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cocklessboy · 3 years ago

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I’m 37 years old. I’ve been on testosterone HRT for a little over a year now and man, this shit is amazing (don’t let anyone tell you that HRT later in life isn’t effective, it fucking IS). But SO MANY THINGS changed that I was NOT told about, and I wish I’d known what to expect a bit better. So, fellow transmascs who have started or plan to start HRT, here’s my list of Shit What Has Changed From The Hormones. Obviously keep in mind that everyone is different, this list is not exhaustive of all possible changes, and you may or may not experience all of these.

Permanent Changes (things which, to my knowledge, will not change back even if I ever lost access to HRT):

Big Clit (this was one of the first things to change - the clit gets bigger, your size may vary, and parts of it get more sensitive; mine is about the size of my pinkie finger and is big enough to “jerk” with a couple of fingers for sexual pleasure)

Hair All Over (my hair growth came VERY slowly and I am only just now finally starting to get a visible beard; this one is dependent in large part on genetics, and may take a while or may happen right away)

Manly Voice (my voice is pretty deep! higher than a lot of men and still sounds a bit teenager-y, and that may not change, time will tell, but I do not sound female at all anymore)

Conditional Physical Changes (physical things which, to my knowledge, will revert at least in part if I ever lose access to HRT):

BIG STINK (I get sweaty and stinky really easily, even right after putting on deodorant, my feet are sweaty and stinky, my genitals smell totally different now and even stink when they’re clean - I smell very MAN now; this will probably reduce over time as I finish “puberty” and get older)

No periods!!! (Menstruation stopped after a couple months; the whole cycle stopped and there are no more monthly fluctuations in mood, no cramps, no PMS, absolutely none of it. PLEASE NOTE THAT TESTOSTERONE IS NOT BIRTH CONTROL! It is theoretically still possible to get pregnant, so BE CAREFUL out there)

Man Face/Body (body fat distribution has become recognizably male; my face looks male, although quite young; my body fat has moved to male places - big ol beer gut!)

MUSCLES (They do NOT happen automatically but when I exercise now, it leads to a visible increase in muscle mass; when I feel my arms, I feel muscle there and it feels AWESOME)

Big Feet (my feet have actually grown significantly, to the point where my old shoes don’t fit and I have to buy new ones two sizes larger; some people have reported hands growing as well, etc.)

Conditional Emotional/Mental Changes (brain things which, to my knowledge, will revert at least in part if I ever lose access to HRT):

Improved Overall Mental Health (this is pretty obvious - relief of dysphoria leads to a massive improvement; former severe depression and anxiety are pretty much just gone now and I generally feel happier and more comfortable in my own skin)

Stabler Emotions (I am less sensitive, have fewer mood swings, do not feel hurt as easily; menstruation-related mood changes are gone and my emotional state changes based on daily circumstances and events rather than on a monthly schedule)

Inability to Cry (this one really messed me up actually; I used to be a BIG crier, easily set off by almost anything, and I was looking forward to maybe not crying so easily; I did NOT REALIZE that testosterone makes it actually DIFFICULT to cry even when you want to; sometimes this is a serious problem because I’m lacking a critical tool for emotional stability; when I can’t let my feelings out by crying I have to turn to other things like physical activity and aggression; I think this one is REALLY IMPORTANT for people to know about because right up until just a couple of weeks ago, I actually believed cis men didn’t cry solely because of trauma and repression, but it turns out their hormones literally make it hard to cry; I can cry SOMETIMES but it takes a LOT to get the tears to come out, they are not always available when I need them)

Increased Aggression (this one is NOT purely negative - the aggression is not uncontrolled! it is simply AVAILABLE; previously I was always very anxious; in a fight-or-flight situation I had only flight available to me, couldn’t stand up for myself or defend myself, allowed people to take advantage of me, couldn’t even watch scary movies or play most video games because the anxiety of feeling in danger made me run away; now I am capable of standing up for myself, pushing through scary situations, fighting monsters in video games without fear; it turns out that when you can’t cry, aggression IS a viable way to stabilize your emotions by releasing them via anger, but it is VERY IMPORTANT to be aware of how you do this and be careful not to do any harm in the process - playing a violent video game or getting intense exercise are safe ways of releasing emotions through aggression)

“THAT’S AWESOME” (related to the previous point, stuff I used to think was stupid is now awesome, like cool special effects in movies, creepy monsters in video games, etc.)

ALL HORNT UP (I am asexual and up until recently I didn’t care about sex at all; I used to get horny and masturbate once every few days or so on average; now I am horny ALL THE TIME and constantly aware of my clitoris, which is analogous to a cis man’s penis; everything makes me think of sex and my thoughts are full of sexual imagery a lot of the time; I wind up masturbating at least once a day, sometimes multiple times; I hate this actually, it’s inconvenient and frustrating; lately I find myself wanting to actually have sex with another person, though I don’t feel sexual attraction and wouldn’t want to have sex with someone I am not extremely comfortable with; I am assured this massively increased sex drive will decrease as I get through “puberty”)

Confidence (just an overall boost in confidence beyond that which comes from feeling at home in my body; this probably ties into the aggression but is not related to any changes in how other people treat me, I just feel less anxious and more confident, full stop)

Social Changes (changes in how other people perceive and interact with me):

Cis male friends refuse to make physical contact with me; friends who used to hug me regularly will no longer do so; these (straight) friends feel that the correct way to acknowledge my masculinity is to treat me the way they have been taught to treat other men, which means that physical contact can only ever be violent (at some level, this includes things like arm punches and back slaps) or sexual (which they would not do because they are straight, though I am not); This is all an aspect of toxic masculinity, but I was not aware that my cis male friends engaged in it until they saw ME as a man, since they were not like this with me when they saw me as a woman.

Similarly, conversations with other men are FUCKING EXHAUSTING. every conversation has to be a competition, a battle with a winner and a loser. no free exchanges of ideas and information. every opinion must be stated as a FACT and disagreements are actually PERSONAL ATTACKS THAT MUST BE DEFENDED AGAINST. This is another aspect of toxic masculinity which I absolutely abhor. It is a learned behavior, not something that comes from testosterone. I find it so exhausting that I avoid talking to guy friends and prefer to chat with female friends instead.

I look very young and probably always will; people will jokingly say “it must be nice to look young” but I am in my late 30s and it is not fun to look like a teenager; security guards in shops follow me around assuming I’m there to shoplift; anytime I introduce myself to new people my age I feel compelled to first tell them I’m older than I look, otherwise they treat me like a child.

I have yet to experience any significant difference in things like respect from other people because of the pandemic - I rarely speak with people I don’t already know really well. However, it’s worth noting that there is ample anecdotal evidence from other trans men that in general, people are more respectful and take you more seriously if they perceive you as male.

Things That Don’t Change:

The boobs don’t go away without surgery. This is my last major point of dysphoria and I am planning surgery soon. Binders can help in the meantime, but the redistribution of fat thanks to HRT does nothing to breast tissue (alas).

I am still the same goddamn person, and sometimes I wish people wouldn’t treat me differently out of some misguided eagerness to prove they are trans-friendly; for me, my transition is about feeling more at home in my own skin, not about any desire to be perceived as fundamentally different; this is quite personal, however, and your experience may vary.

My cat does not seem to perceive me any differently and does not behave any differently with me. I was actually worried about this because previously he was always a bit nervous around men. Animals know what’s up, they know who you are.

Food and drink still tastes the same; hobbies and interests are the same; political and social opinions are the same.

Despite the above notes about things like aggression, I have NOT become more violent or controlling; I do NOT show affection violently; I have NOT lost the need for cuddles and comfort and expressing emotions; these things are NOT inherent to being male, they are aspects of the toxic masculinity that our society teaches.

That’s all I can think of for now. Might add more later. Other trans men, feel free to reblog and add your experiences. Transphobes keep your fucking hands off my post.

#transgender #transmasc #trans man #lgbtqia+#queer #gender #hormones #hrt #transitioning

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absurdthirst · 4 years ago

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So, I've been on my period the past couple of days and my cramps are worse than normal. Those are amplifying my chronic back pain, and I haven't been sleeping well because of feeling so terrible. Then today, I slipped/fell down the stairs (I live in the basement) and SEVERELY twisted/sprained my ankle. It's swollen and hurts like hell. And b/c of all this my depression is back b/c I just feel like nothing is getting better and just getting worse. I'm just..... Having a TERRIBLE time lately and desperately need a hug and someone to tell me that I'll be okay. *curls up to cry*

Better

“Mesh’la?” You can’t even look up, too busy trying to wipe your eyes as you sit at the base of the ladder, clutching your foot with your free hand. You hadn’t realized he was back.

The clomp of his boots ring out against the floor of the Crest. The sole appearing in your vision before he kneels down, leather gloves prying your hand away from your ankle.

“What happened?” You could hear the concern in his voice, through the filter in his helmet. Prodding your ankle and making you hiss in pain.

“I - I’ve been having cramp and not sleeping and now i’m clumsy and stupid, slipping and falling down the ladder.” You whimper out, hot tears splashing down on your legs again. “I can’t do this, nothing gets better, it’s always something.”

You hate the way you feel, but you are so overwhelmed by your hormones and the pain. Not looking up until he reaching out and cups your jaw and lifts your head up to meet the dark t of his visor.

“It will be okay, mesh’la.” He whispers it softly, his thumb stroking your jaw. “We are out of bacta, but come on. We will get your ankle wrapped.”

He scoops you up, carrying you over to the small sleeping alcove and sets you on the cot. Stripping off your shoe and examining your foot again. “You are lucky, it’s not broken but it’s going to hurt for awhile.”

“Great.” You mutter, angry at yourself.

“I’ll take care of you.” He assures you, wrapping up your foot and binding it to keep it from swelling too much. “And you are going to lay down.”

“But-”

“Mesh’la.” His tone is a bit more forceful. Lifting his arm and raising the ramp to the ship to seal you both inside. “You are going to lay down. As soon as I get us headed towards the next planet, I’m going to come lay down with you. Soothe your cramps.”

You nod, his body heat ran high and you loved when he rubbed your stomach, the heat comforting and helping the cramps. He watches your for a moment before he leans forward and presses his helmet against your forehead, giving you his version of a kiss.

“It will be better, mesh’la. I’m here with you.” He murmurs softly. stroking your hair for a second before he steps back. “Lay down and rest. I’ll be back.”

You lay down on the narrow cot, knowing that he would keep his word. He would be back and it would be better.

#the mandolarian #mando #din djarin

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mollygetssherlockcoffee · 4 years ago

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Broken

Pairing: Spencer x Fem!reader

Summary: When Rossi makes a comment which upsets the Y/N, Spencer is there to reassure her

Warning: Mentions of rape and murder. Talk about the medical condition Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome. Sadness. Fluff at the end

Words: 1,824

A/N: As someone who has this condition, this a drabble I have always wanted to read.

Master List HERE!

This last case had been particularly hard for you. You’d gotten your diagnosis three days before you left for California on a case involving an unsub forcing women into pregnancy, only to kill the mother and sell the child. The latest victim to have been found, Amelia Bragg, had been found on in a ditch. She had been raped, repeatedly, but she had not given birth and wasn’t pregnant. However, the signature of the female gender symbol carved onto her hip post-mortem indicated it was the killer you were after.

“Why didn’t she have a child like the others?” JJ asked, looking from the screen where Amelia’s picture was shown to the files in her hands.

“She had a condition which made it difficult to have children… she was ‘broken’” Rossi had replied, glancing at Amelia’s medical records. “PCOS and endometriosis.”

“PCOS? What’s that?” Derek asked, looking towards Reid for an answer.

You jumped in first, not even looking up from the file in front of you, “Poly Cystic Ovary Syndrome. Follicles surround the eggs, making ovulation difficult. As such, their periods are irregular, and they struggle with fertility. Women often experience head hair loss, while gaining excess hair in other places, such as their face, due to increased androgen. Also, they can experience increased pain anytime through their menstrual cycle, on their period or not. People with PCOS tend to struggle with their weight, due to the hormones. Also, they’re more than likely to suffer with mental illnesses such as depression or anxiety due to the imbalance of hormones. Endometriosis is where tissue similar to the lining of the room grows in other places, like the ovaries or fallopian tubes. Endometriosis causes a lot of the same problems as PCOS, but it is known to be much more painful.”

The room is quiet for a moment as the team takes in your words. You don’t look up, you can’t look up. Rossi’s words had hurt you and you couldn’t help but answer before Reid. It was a subject you had knowledge in, you had done for a while. You best friend, Jamie, had endometriosis and you had done your research after her diagnosis in an effort to support her.

“How do you know that, Y/N?” Derek questioned, his voice gentle as he realised you might have experience with the conditions.

You shrugged ad remained silent for a moment. You didn’t really want to tell them all. Sure, they’re your friends, family even, but did you want all of them knowing this? Finally, you settled on a half-truth, “I know people with the condition, so I learned about it.”

You’d caught the unsub in the end, but not before another girl had been kidnapped. Thankfully, the team had gotten to the house, and then into the underground ‘lair’ before she was raped. It was horrific done there. It was dark and with the mass of six women, all in various stages of pregnancy, crammed into the small space, it was dirty and humid.

The women had been sent to the hospital for a check-up and the unsub taken to the police station to be processed. With the case complete, Hotch decided to postpone the flight home until the morning, saying everyone deserved a night of rest.

And that was how you found yourself sitting on your motel bed, arm around your knees, as you cried.

You’d been having troubles for a while now. Your periods were irregular, only having one every few months, and yet you often walked around with pain low in your belly and back. You often had to wax your upper lip, while you often lost long strands of your hair. Your moods swung, and your weight was a like a seesaw.

You’d went through this for more than a year before you went to the doctors. They’d listen to your symptoms before ordering a thorough blood test which came back with results saying you had excess hormones. This wasn’t enough for a diagnosis, and your doctor had sent you for an ultrasound.

And there they were. Little follicles surrounding your ovaries. There was your answer, you had PCOS. You’d been fine with the diagnosis. You had friends with the same condition, and you knew the ins-and-outs of it. However, what Rossi had said really got to you. In that one instance, your entire mental approach changed and your mind told you that your body was broken. That you were broken.

And that hurt.

PCOS was currently incurable. Medication could be taken to help the symptoms, but there was nothing to stop them. When you wanted a child, you could take medication which may help to be able to conceive but there was no guarantee that you would become pregnant. You were broken. The one thing you were designed for, as a woman, was something you couldn’t do. You were a woman, you were meant to bare children. Yes, you’d never through about having children before but now the choice had been taken from you.

There was a knock at the door. You held your breath, keeping the sobs back. There was another knock. A moment passed before the knock sounded again.

“Y/N, open up… please, I know you’re in there” Spencer begged, knocking on the door again. “Please, just let me in.”

Out of everyone on the team, Spencer was who you were closest to. When you had first joined the BAU, he had helped you with your paperwork. He knew you weren’t a huge fan of clubbing, so while the rest of the team went for drinks, he invited you to go with him to his favourite café. You’d get together every week to watch the newest episode of Doctor Who and when the season ended, you would just watch reruns. Spencer was the one you had warmed up to first, and he was still the person you’d consider as your closest friend.

Knowing that Spencer wouldn’t go away, you pushed yourself to your feet. You opened the door enough for him to squeeze through and quickly closed it behind him. Spencer entered the little room, moving to drop the armful of snacks on the bed before turning around to you.

He didn’t speak, just opened his arm. A fresh wave of tears burst forth and you rushed into his arm, burying your face in his chest and letting the tears fall. His arms wrapped around you securely, holding you to his chest tightly. His chin rested on your head as he held you to him, his thumb rubbing over the top of your arm where his arms wrapped around you.

After a few minutes, you calmed down, your snobs turning to quiet sniffles. He gently released you but took your hand, leading you over to the bed. You climbed on, grabbing a packet of gummy bears before you curled in his side.

“So,” he started. “You want to tell me what’s going on?”

You wiped your hand under your eyes, getting rid of another tear. “You remember that I told you I hadn’t been feeling to great and that I had that appointment at the hospital for some tests? Well, I got the results.”

“I know. PCOS” your head turned so quickly that it took your eyes a moment to catch up and focus on your face. “I know the symptoms of it Y/N, and… I had suspicions. Your knowledge of it confirmed those suspicions. You have much more than just a ‘friend offering support’ knowledge.”

“What Rossi said…” your lips rolled between your teeth and you shook your head, looking away from Spencer. “I wasn’t really bothered at first by the diagnosis but when Rossi said that Amelia was ‘broken’… that hurt. Is that how people see me, how I am, broken?”

“Of course, you’re not broken” Spencer reassured you, pulling you tightly into his side. “Rossi didn’t mean it like that. He meant it as broken for the unsub, in the unsubs mind.”

“I know how he meant it” you assured him. “Its just… I can’t help but feel like people will think I’m broken. And who would want a broken girlfriend, or wife? I’ll have these mood changes, weight problem, hair troubles for the rest of my life. And I’ll struggle to have a child too… Who would want someone like me?”

A firm hand grasped your chin and turned your face. Spencer looked at you, his face more serious than you had ever seen it. His jaw was set and his eyes held such an intensity, that you struggled to make eye contact.

“Who wouldn’t want someone like you? You’re amazing” he reassured you, his voice firm and full of sincerity. “You’re kind, funny, smart, a little too sassy at time, generous and…and gorgeous. You’re amazing. You helped me find a place for my mom, you bring me my favourite coffee and a doughnut every time I’m sad. You drive me to and from work because you know I hate to drive. You are amazing. Your mood changes? Everyone’s moods fluctuate, yours maybe a bit more than others, but that doesn’t matter. Your weight? Y/N, you’re perfect. And your hair? That shouldn’t matter to anyone because its not about what you look like, its about who you are. There is nothing saying you won’t be able to get pregnant. Yes, it’ll take longer and you made need help but still, it can happen. And if it doesn’t, there are other options. Like surrogacy or adoptions. And that’s even if you want kinds. You don’t have to have them. And the man you’re with should accept all of these things because they are what make you you. And you are amazing, you’re perfect. If they can’t accept you as you are, this perfect person, then they don’t deserve someone as amazingly brilliant as you.”

Your heartbeat wildly in your chest as you stared at Spencer. Your eyes prickled with tears again, but this time, they were in awe of the beautiful things he’d said about you. The way he spoke about you… you felt warm inside, you felt appreciated, cared for… you felt loved.

Your hand lifted to cup his face and your thumb traced his cheekbone. His eyes were soft as they met yours, the light brown orbs full of warmth. Your eyes trailed to his films, his prefect lips, and slowly, you leaned in. He met you halfway, pressing his lips to yours in a kiss.

The kiss was soft and gentle. His hand trailed from your chin to the back of your neck, tilting your head to allow him better access to your mouth. You sighed into the kiss, the warmth in your heart all consuming.

Slowly, he pulled back from the kiss, his eyes meeting yours again. “Y/N, you’re prefect and… I…I love you.”

You smiled at him. “I love you too.”

You pulled him towards you to kiss him again.

#spencer reid #spencer reid x y/n #spencer reid x reader #spencer x reader #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid fanfic #cm #criminal minds #david rossi #derek morgan #criminal minds fanfiction

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rwhague · 4 years ago

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An Overview of Major Depressive Disorder for Writers

Society as a whole is getting better at understanding mental disorders and sympathizing with those who experience them. I believe that much of this advancement is due to the arts and the fictional portrayal of characters who live these experiences. Fiction is a mirror on society. As we tell our stories, our readers see themselves and those around them reflected back. Which is why I believe having our information about mental illnesses correct when trying to create characters is so important. That is why I have focused so heavily on what mental illnesses really look like in my blog. Today, I’m going to share you a gross overview of clinical depression and what it looks like in a person.

Feeling depressed is something everyone experiences on occasion whether that be through prolonged stress or just having a bad day. It’s not unusual to have a day when you simply don’t want to get out of bed. Generally, pressures of society keep us going and we force ourselves forward to meet our obligations. Often, those around us know we’re having a bad day because we are irritable and just generally unpleasant to be around. This, however, is not clinical depression. Clinical depression is characterized by at least 2 weeks of continuous depressed mood or loss of pleasure in nearly all activities as well as four of the following symptoms: “changes in appetite or weight, sleep; decreased energy; feelings of worthlessness or guilt; difficulty thinking, concentrating, or making decision; or recurrent thoughts of death or suicidal ideation, plans, or attempts” (Videbeck p. 281). These symptoms also impact social, occupational, or other important areas of functioning.

This last part is key, because it separates being sad and having a mental disorder. We all have periods of sadness whether it be from the loss of a loved one, a loss of a job, or broken heart, but depression impacts day-to-day living with a significant impact on the person’s life.

There are many causes of depression: chemical, hormonal, genetic, or depression can come from an extended period of grief. Short term depression if left untreated can lead to chronic depression.

Depression can occur in tandem with anxiety which I’ve written about extensively. Basically, the body has used up all its reserves for the anxiety, so it crashes. It is rare to see chronic anxiety without some form of depression.

Depression does not always look like one would think. It’s not just someone who sits around crying all the time feeling bad for themselves. I’ll paint a quick picture for you:

Anna lays facing the wall, staring at nothing as she has done for the past twelve hours. Outside her door, she hears her youngest squeal with laughter and the thud of footsteps chasing after her. Anna cringes as she draws the covers in closer. Why doesn’t the sound of my own child’s laugh make my smile? I’m a horrible person.

“Mama, would you like some dinner?”?” Joel, her oldest cracks open the bedroom door, but Anna continues to lie on her side in the dark away from the door. She shakes her head, and the door closes back.

Joel shouldn’t have to make his own dinner. I should have made it for him. I just—I feel so tired. Why do I feel so tired? And why can’t I sleep? I’m a worthless burden on my family. I should just end it all so they don’t have to put up with me.

And that is often the case with depression. It’s a lack of motivation, a lack of energy, of joy. It’s not that the person experiencing it is particularly lazy. They literally do not have any energy. This inability to function takes a toll on the person’s self-esteem and the depression feeds into itself making it worse and worse.

There are some treatment options for depression. Unfortunately, these do require some energy expenditure, and there is no guaranteed cure, just management. Sunlight, healthy foods, and better sleep patterns are some of the treatments, but consider a person like Anna who doesn’t want to eat. She lies in bed most of the day, but has trouble sleeping. In order to get sunlight, she has to have the energy to get out of bed. As you can see, the spiral of depression can swallow a person whole.

This does not mean a person should stay in the spiral. Yes, it’s hard living day to day without a functioning incentive-reward center in the brain, but if you don’t get out of the spiral, it will consume you. It will take a bit of faith to get up day after day, sometimes for a very long time without results. But those suffering from depression are not alone. Others have gone before them and succeeded.

Exercising, removing junk food from your life, treating the underlining conditions such as anxiety, and receiving therapeutic help are key to getting out of depression. But you are worth it. Your life is worth it. Get help. Surround yourself with people who will hold you accountable—not by belittling you or abusing you, but by supporting you and your efforts to get better.

I write this last bit to the writer themselves because I have seen many writers speak about their depression and their battles with mental health. Writing is not just for the entertainment of the masses. It can also be a pathway to healing for the writer themselves. As you create these characters living their struggles, reflect on your own life as well. How will Anna get out of the depression cycle? How will you?

Disclaimer: This is a writing blog and not intended to be used as a tool for diagnosing or treating anyone with mental illness.

Psychiatric-Mental Health Nursing, by Sheila L. Videbeck, fifth ed., Wolters Kluwer/Lippincott Williams & Wilkins, 2011.

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bunnys-beetlejuice-blog · 4 years ago

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bangs pots and pans together loudly FIC UPDATE COME GET YALL SOME JUICE

Apparently the vital, missing component to enjoying school was having a friend there. Go figure.

He and Kevin only have that first period class together, but they make the most of it, passing notes back and forth between the two of them, the teacher too tired that early in the morning to notice, or care. Lunch isn’t depressing anymore. They sit together under the shade tree, and Kevin does seem to also appreciate the view. “Can you even imagine working up a sweat, on purpose?” Betelgeuse pats his gut. “You know I can’t.”

“I can’t believe how little the track shorts are. That’s obscene. You think I’d look good in them?” “You join track and I’ll come to every meet, an’ it won’t be for th’ love of th’ sport.” He doesn’t think normal friends talk to each other like this, but he doesn’t actually know. Does everyone flirt with their friends? Are friends just cool people you wanna fuck but haven’t yet? Is it demon hormone bullshit, making him read into everything? Unclear.

It’s all going so good, until it isn’t, suddenly.

One lunch, two months into being there, Kevin pulls a huge and impressive old book from his backpack. “Look what I goooot,” he sing songs, waving it in Betelgeuse’s face, and he sneezes in response. “Smells old.” Emily and Lydia would love it. “It is. It’s very old,” Kevin confirms, and he moves so he’s sitting next to Betelgeuse, shoulder to shoulder, both their backs to the shade tree. “It’s about demons.”

Betelgeuse loses interest immediately, and focuses on not going pink at their shoulders touching, instead. “Z’at so?” he grunts. Kevin doesn’t seem to pick up on his moodiness, though. “It talks about all these ancient beings,” he explains, flipping pages. “Their summoning circles, their aspects,” he gives Betelgeuse a nudge at that, “all the things they can do for you, and the boons they grant.” He feels uncomfortable. “What’s with this? You obsessed with me, or somethin’?” He tries to play it as a joke, but that glint in Kevin’s eyes is back, and he doesn’t like it. “Of course, who wouldn’t be obsessed if they learned all this shit is actually true? It’s like there’s a whole secret world behind a locked door, and I’ve got the key.” Kevin looks back up at him.

He gets the feeling he’s the key. It’s not a good feeling.

“Where’d you even get this fuckin’ thing?” he lifts a finger, and the book slams closed in Kevin’s lap. His friend huffs. “Internet, of course.” “No, I mean… why were you lookin’ for somethin’ like this?” “I want to learn more. Don’t you?” Kev presses, and reopens the book. “I mean, what if there’s something amazing you can do, and you just don’t know, cause you’re not bothering to try?”

“So I’ll never know, so what?” Betelgeuse feels like this is a losing argument, but he tries anyways. “What’s so great about bein’ weird? You’re lucky you’re human.” “Dude, don’t even start with that. You can fly.” “So can humans,” he points out. “Wh- A plane and fucking levitating for fun are not the same, and you know it, BeetleJerk.” Kevin honestly can’t understand why he’s not excited over this. “I just mean… I’d rather be human, than this.” He blinks at his own words, because he’s never expressed that out loud before, ever. But it doesn’t feel untrue. “You’re out of your mind, more so than usual. Every human alive wants to feel special, and do the stuff you can do. Why are you acting like it’s so miserable all of a sudden? You use your powers all the time, I’ve seen you literally teleport five feet because you’re too lazy to walk.”

“You don’t get it.” He’s feeling sullen now, and he wiggles a little away from Kevin, and crosses his arms. “BJ, come on-” Betelgeuse teleports away to under the bleachers, and he eats his lunch there, until the bell rings.

He’s waiting for Emily after school, not feeling particularly friendly, when Kevin approaches. They stand there awkwardly. It feels tense, and weird, and he waits to see what the breather does. “Don’t be mad,” Kevin says, finally. “M’not mad.” “You sound mad.” “You know what mad on me looks like,” he finally turns to look at his friend, amber eyes burning with irritation. “First hand.”

Kevin looks down, and kicks at a rock that might not actually be there. “I thought you’d be excited. BJ, come on, I don’t wanna.. Not be friends over this.”

Betelgeuse signs, and scratches at the scruff on his chin. “It’s not like that,” he relents after a moment. “I just, I don’t care about that stuff. An’ I don’t wanna sit around, focusin’ on it. I don’t exactly like feelin’ different. Yeah, I do tricks an’ use my magic an’ stuff, but it’s hard to control. I lose my temper once an’ I could seriously destroy somethin’, or hurt my family. It doesn’t exactly feel good, knowin’ that. No one else my age can stand me, cause they can tell I’m weird. Before you, it was fuckin’ lonely, Kev.”

He feels a familiar pressure, because Kevin has taken his hand, and the human gives it a squeeze. He accepts it, melting a little against the other boy. “Still friends?” Kevin asks, and Betelgeuse purrs in response, resting his head on Kevin’s shoulder.

It’s not till later, at home, that he realizes Kevin never actually apologized.

```````````````````````````````````````````````````````

It’s like that, for a while. He knows Kevin still has the book. He knows he’s reading it, and sometimes Kevin will bring up demon stuff, but Betelgeuse has almost exactly a minute and a half of patience for answering questions or hearing about it. Still, Kev doesn’t stop. He might feel angrier if the breather wasn’t so god damn cute.

The air is starting to go cold, and leaves are beginning to fall. October is settling in, getting comfortable, and mom’s starting to break out the Halloween décor. It’s the middle of a kind of gloomy, Autumn day, when things get weird.

Kevin has the book open, much to Betelgeuse’s annoyance, and he’s blabbing away about a demon that supposedly grants wealth- “Do you think you could do that?” -when Betelgeuse looks down at the book, and sees Juno looking back at him. It’s not really her, it’s an illustration, but he’d recognize the bitch anywhere. She’s ink, glaring up from the page, those same age lines etched into her face, confirming his private theory that she’d been an old hag even when she was young. The slit neck is prominent, and as he stares, he sees smoke billow out of it. Oh, fuck no.

He grabs the book and slams it shut, startling Kevin, and then he teleports it directly under them, a mile down in the rock of the earth. Kev blinks for a moment, confused, before looking at his friend. “Wh.. Dude, WHAT?”

“Possessed book,” he croaks out, feeling tense, because he can smell cigarette smoke. “And you’re afraid of it? Why? You are also a literal fucking demon!” “That’s why I’m not messin’ with it!” Betelgeuse stands up, uneasy. The ground around the tree feels weird, now. He doesn’t like it here anymore. “Cause I actually understand why it’s a bad fuckin’ idea! God, you should have instincts that tell you not to mess with this stuff! You’re deficient, Kev, seriously.”

“Me deficient? Seriously?” Kev snaps, which hurts in a new, unexpected way. “Whatever, asshole. Give me my book back.” Kevin stands up, too, but he’s not uneasy, he’s angry.

“It’s better off where it is.”

“Which is where?”

Betelgeuse glances down. The grass around the tree is starting to wither. Kevin follows his gaze, but doesn’t seem to notice the dying vegetation. “You buried it? Come on!”

“Leave it, Kev.”

“This isn’t just your cool secret, anymore, it’s mine too!” Kevin glares at him. “You can’t keep me out of it, BJ. That’s not fair. God, at this point, I know more than you! You should be listening to me!”

He feels his volatile temper flare.

“Ex-fuckin’-scuze me?”

He waits for Kevin to take it back. Instead, his friend doubles down. “Demons have to listen to humans,” Kevin crosses his arms. “If they’re summoned. It’s in the book.” “Nobody summoned me,” Betelgeuse snarls, letting his real snake eyes show, an intimidation tactic that works for about half a second. Kevin’s too used to him, at this point. “I’m up here on a deal.” “Bet I could do it. I bet I could summon you. Then you’d have to listen to me.” “Yeah? Well, good luck without your stupid book!” He storms off, leaving Kevin standing there.

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The rest of the day sucks. He’s moody all day, annoyed in the car, grumpy in his room. He cranks metal and wishes he’d learned to play a guitar instead of his rinky, happy sounding ukulele. The instrument isn’t going to produce the noise he wants to express himself, right now. He throws it across the room, into a wall, where it smashes, and reforms a minute later, because… it’s still his favorite, after all. Even if it’s no good for expressing his teenage angst.

He can hear shuffling, and talking, outside his room, though he can’t make out what’s being said over the music. After a moment, though, there’s a knock at his door. “Hey, Bug?” Emily calls. “Can you come give me a hand with something?” He wants to tell her to piss off, go away, to leave him the hell alone, but.. It’s Emily. The CD player lets out a strangled choke and suddenly stops, and the door swings open, all without him moving from his flopped position on the bed. “Sup, ma?” he grunts. Emily peaks her head into the room, and smiles when she sees him, the expression radiating warmth and adoration and.. Oh, God/Satan, bless his sunbeam of a mother. “Just wondering if you’re free to do a little decorating?” She reaches behind her and grabs a fake severed bloody limb from the box he assumes she’s dragged into the hallway from the attic. “Don’t you worry it takes away from the “wow factor” to do Halloween twice a year?” He asks, standing and stretching, before apparating in the hallway behind her, and giving the decor box a nudge with his boot. “What? No way, there’s never enough Halloween!” Emily grins. “Get that, please.” The box floats along behind him as they head downstairs. They pause in the entryway, as Emily thinks out loud. “So, maybe the kitchen should be-” “Functional as a kitchen, please,” Charles calls from the living room. Emily rolls her eyes. “Okay, fine! Spoilsport! We’ll focus on the entryway for now,” she decides. “You wanna put up cobwebs in the rafters?” She gets on tiptoes to reach into the floating box, and he lowers it a bit for her, as she grabs the fake webbing. “I could just instantly decorate the whole room,” He takes to floating next to the box. “Could make sure it’s all normal human stuff, too,” He adds, before she can respond. “I know you can… But I like decorating,” Emily says brightly. “It’s not about getting it done quickly. It’s about, you know, doing it together.” “So why are dad and Lydia slacking?” Her smile doesn’t falter, but becomes softer. “It kinda felt like you needed some mom time, today,” She says simply. God, she can read him easier than Kev can read his stupid book. “We got in a fight,” he admits. She hums at that, because he only has one friend. It’s not hard to guess who he could possibly mean. “I’m sorry, Bug. What over?” He hesitates. So far he’s not let any of his family in on this book business. He’s been sort of hoping it could just go away on it’s own, and not be a thing. Kevin’s made it into a thing, though, and not telling even his mom feels… bad.

“He’s really into demons. Like, really, really into em,” He rasps, floating up and beginning to put up the spiderwebs, as his mother takes down the usual, sort of spooky wall hangings and trades them for her very intentionally spooky Halloween ones. “He’s got this book, an’ it’s all about demons an’ like, how to summon them, an’ their powers, an’ stuff… Sometimes th’ way he talks, it’s like.. Are we friends cause we’re friends, or friends cause you think I’m gonna be... useful?”

Maybe that doesn't make any sense, but that’s how it’s been feeling, like there’s an invisible shoe hanging midair, and it’s about to drop. His mother waits until he’s finished before looking up at him. “And you fought over that?” She prods. “Not exactly.” How the fuck can she even tell that, though? Damn her mom powers. He really, really didn’t want to talk about this, not to her, but… “I saw Juno. In th’ book,'' He lowers back down to the floor, and digs through the box, pulling out fake body parts. Back up he goes, to stick these in the fake webbing. “It was just a drawing of her, but it started like.. Billowing smoke-”

“From the neck,” His mother remembers, suppressing a shudder.

“Yeah. I could smell the smoke. So I got rid of the book, buried it in th’ school yard, but Kev got all pissy about it. He thinks he’s an expert on this shit, an’ he’s gonna mess with somethin’ big if he keeps this up.” “I’m sure you’ve told him that.” “He doesn’t listen. He gets this look in his eye, like it’s a game, or like… I dunno. Feels sometimes like he thinks he’s…” He searches for the words. “Like he thinks he oughta be the boss a’me, or somethin’.”

He rubs absentmindedly at the moss on his nose. It clings, stubborn as ever, same with the patches by his hairline, and he’s found it’s easier to just add another little layer to his glamour than try to do anything about it.

Maybe that’s indicative of a bigger problem. It’s easier to do a bit of magic and make everything look better than to actually fix the underlying problem. Ugh, introspection, how absolutely miserable. He wants to keep thoughts like that locked away tight, but they have a habit of slipping past his mental defenses and making him feel worse. Absolutely no one can make him feel shittier than he himself can. He sinks to the ground, going purple, and he’s instantly wrapped in his mother’s arms. “It’s okay, Beetlejuice,” Emily has both her hands on the back of his head, and he pushes his face into the crook of her neck. “I just.. I’ve only got the one friend,” he groans. “I don’t wanna stop bein’ his friend, but.. Fuck, ma.”

“I know.” Her voice is a soothing balm. She works her hands through the mess of purple hair at the back of his head. “I know, sweetheart. I know it’s lonely at school, but school isn’t forever,” she tries to assure him. “If your friend is treating you this way, well.. He’s not a very good friend. Do you want to be around someone who makes you feel this bad? Does it feel worth it, to you?”

He knows the correct answer is, “No,” but he’s not sure if his self esteem is high enough for that.

“I like him a lot,” He grumbles, and she hums again. “He’s handsome,” She says, and then pulls back far enough to pinch his nose. “But not as handsome as my son, of course,” and it’s silly enough to help knock away his mood, so that’s something, at least. “What should I do?” He doesn’t pull away from her, just soaks up the mom energy for as long as he can. “I think you need to have a talk,” Emily tells him. “Lay out how you’re feeling. Try to get his side of things, and make sure he hears your side, too. Then, at least you both tried, you know?”

It’s such a mom type answer. He groans again.

“I was worried you’d say some shit like that.” She fuzzes his hair, and he feels the tingle in his scalp that means it’s changed colors. Back to green, he assumes. “You know your moss changes color along with your hair? And your creepo-stache?” “Leave the stache alone, it’s tryin’ it’s best,” He pretends to be defensive.

“It makes you look like the founder of a forum for people who marry their cars,” Lydia offers, from the bottom step of the staircase, where she has apparently been just chilling and listening.

“Wh-! Mom, it’s not that bad, right?” Emily tilts her head to the side and gives what can only be described as a condescending smile. “Oh, you’re both in for it now.” He brings the various decor items to life to terrorize them, and then Charles joins his side, sympathizing with his son vis-à-vis bad teenage facial hair, and by the time the whole squabble is over, hardly any decorating has gotten done… But he does feel better. His family’s good like that.

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Monday rolls around, same as it always does, but there’s a weird feeling in the air. Halloween is a week away, barely missing getting a weekend date, but there’s some big Halloween bash the school is apparently throwing. There’s fliers for it everywhere, plastered all over lockers and bulletin boards. He’s not much of a participator, though, and his reaction to his locker being plastered over with invites to a party he doesn't care about is to snap his fingers. All the fliers on all the lockers up and down the hall, all instantly fall loose at once, littering the floor. A few students jump back, but no one looks his way, because why would they?

He’s grabbing his history textbook when he feels a tap on the shoulder, and when he turns, it’s a girl he recognizes, but her name is absolutely lost on him.

“You’re BJ, right?” Miffy askes, and he nods. “Yeah, s’right,” and Margo seems to wince at how gruff his voice is, before continuing. “Um, you and that guy Kevin, you’re like…” Milicent trails off, waiting for him to finish her thought, but sorry, baby, he can barely finish his own. “Like…?” He says, with his gravel voice copying her tone and inflection, and she huffs. “Together?” Marge asks, “Like, all of the time?”

He cocks his head, and squints at her, hands t-rexing at his sides, as Lydia likes to say.\

“Usually,” He concedes, and he gets the feeling he’s dragging this out much, much more than Mango clearly wants, because he spies a group of girls a little ways off, waiting for her. One of them is staring intently, more focused on him, but he pushes that thought aside.

“Look, okay, he’s gonna be out for a few days, and I’m just trying to see if you can take him his homework,” McGrubber has grown tired of having to stand here, talking to the chubby goth loser, apparently. “I’m a student aid in the office and they’re trying to make me do it, but I have track practice!” Thaaaat’s where he knows her from. She looks different, not bouncing and sweating and also not half a football field away. “Sure, fine, I’ll make sure Kev gets his work. Wouldn’t want you to miss out on running in a fuckin’ circle, Maria.” Her face sours. “It’s Blair.” So close. “Who fuckin’ cares,” He replies, and turns back to his locker. He can hear her rejoin her friend group, all of them fawning over her harrowing experience of having to speak to him in public. The last thing he hears from Blair is, “He’s just so goddamn weird,” and then the group rounds the corner.

He closes his locker harder than he maybe needs to.

Kevin isn’t in class that day, or the next, or even the one after. The shade tree has withered and died completely, it’s color sapped and gone, and even walking near it makes him feel uneasy. His new lonely lunch spot is under the bleachers, which feels even more voyeuristic of a spot to watch the track team, but even that activity feels tainted, somehow. He’s back to being lonely.

He can’t stand being lonely.

It gets so bad he contemplates sitting, wait for it, on the bleachers, and maybe even trying to strike up a conversation, but he’s too chicken shit. He’s been going to school with these kids for the past three years, and no one’s wanted to talk to him or chat with him in all that time. He can’t imagine that’s about to change.

Still, on Thursday, miserable and lonely, he gives it a try.

Sitting up here sucks. It’s just a hard metal seat on a gloomy day, and when he’d ventured up and sat down, other people had slowly moved away from him, until he was sitting by himself, all the breathers huddled in a different area, away from him. He'd tried talking, but hardly had a "Hey, how ya doin'?" grated out before the migration began.

Figures.

He finishes eating and lies on his back, resting his hands on his chest, eyes closed, and after a while he feels someone standing over him, and something laid over his hands. He opens his eyes. There’s the most beautiful girl staring down at him. She’s got long, bleach blonde hair, darker at the roots, which is hanging down in a halo around her face, and the biggest, clearest blue eyes he’s ever seen. He glances down, to see she’s placed a daisy over his hand. He looks back up at her, amber eyes questioning.

“You looked so still,” She smiles. Her voice is like music. He thinks he can hear harps. “With your hands folded like that. Kind of like an open casket.” He’d been forgetting to breathe, apparently, which happens sometimes. She thought he looked like a corpse, and she placed a flower over him.

“Sorry, if that’s weird. You’re.. BJ?” She asks, and he picks up the daisy, sits up, and nods. “Yeah, you’re…” “Barbara,” she fills him in. “You’re not so good with names.” “Mmm. Buffy tell you that?” He recognizes her now, from that group of girls. Barbara sits next to him, which makes zero sense. “It’s Blair,” she corrects him gently, but not without a giggle in her voice. “Oh, right.” Her name could be fuckin’ Moonpie and it’d make the same amount of difference to him, but he’d agree with anything Barbara said, if it meant she kept sitting there, talking to him. “Are you going to the Halloween party?” She asks. “Supposed to be pretty killer. It kind of seems like your scene.” “I’m not exactly a social butterfly,” which is the understatement of the god damn century, honestly, but she laughs and nudges her shoulder with his. “Well, I think you should come. I bet you’d have the coolest costume. Maybe think about it?”

“I guess, maybe..” He says lamely, because his brain is short circuiting from that small touch.

“Barb, come on!” someone calls to her from a ways away, on the track. Lunch is nearly over. She stands, and smooths down the long skirt she’s wearing, which is modest but flattering. “Later, BJ,” she smiles, and just like that, she’s gone, like an angel going back up to heaven in a beam of light, off to rejoin her friends. He can hear what she says to them, though. “You guys are mean, he’s not so bad. Just shy.”

He keeps the daisy in a little glass of water on his dresser, and strums love songs on his ukulele.

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Thinking about Barbara and her smile and the way she nudged him is a fun distraction, at least for a little while, but when it’s Saturday, and he still hasn’t heard from Kevin, he decides it’s time to demon up and see what the fuck is happening with him. He’s been just teleporting Kev’s homework inside his room, and he’s sure it’s falling into a pile on the floor each time and startling him, but no one ever said how he had to deliver it. Today though, emboldened by the pretty girl on the bleachers, he appears at Kevin’s front door instead, holding Friday’s work, and he knocks. It takes a moment, but Mr. Loh answers.

Betelgeuse hasn’t had much chance to interact with Kev’s dad. He looks like a normal, tired dad, wholly unimpressive, and kinda short. Chuck could wrestle this guy to the mat, no problem.

“Oh, BJ,” Mr. Loh says, and then glances at what’s in his hands. “Kevin’s homework? Thank you. He’s holed up in his room… won’t come out.. Maybe,” and he suddenly looks hopeful. “You two are friends. Maybe you can try talking to him?”

Well, that’s what he was there to do anyways, so sure. “I gotcha, Mr. L,” he nods, stepping inside, and heading up the stairs and down the hall to Kevin’s room. The closer he gets to the door, though, the weirder he feels. Something stinks, figuratively and literally. It smells like… It smells like the waiting room. It’s that same, veil is thin type air that he can smell on Halloween night, but how the fuck is he smelling it here? He bangs on Kevin’s door. “Hey, Kev, it’s the B-Man,” he calls, trying to keep his tone playful, but he feels like he’s doing a poor job. What the hell is going on? “Come on, man, open up!” He tries again, when he receives no response. He thinks he can hear a shuffle behind the door. “Dude, I will bust this fuckin’ door down,” He growls, all the play gone from his tone. “You know I will. Better yet-”

He appears inside the bedroom, just in time for Kevin to slam shut the closet door. Kevin turns to look at him, back pressed to the wood. There’s a beat, both teens staring at each other, wide eyed, Betelgeuse in that weird way he does, and Kevin looking frazzled. “What,” the demon grates out, “the fuck, are you getting up to in here? It smells like the netherworld, Kev.” Unfortunately, that makes Kevin’s face light up. “It does? Oh my god, that’s perfect! It must be starting to work!” He crosses the bedroom, going to his desk, where an old book is sitting open. It’s not the same one he took from his friend, it can’t be, that book is still a mile down in presumably solid rock. “Another musty ass tome, great,” he growls, but Kevin ignores him, flipping through the book.

He hates feeling ignored.

A black and white striped arm sprouts from Kevin’s desk, and slams the book shut, which makes the breather turn and glare at him. “Get out of my room, BJ,” is all Kevin says, and Betelgeuse ignores that, instead crossing the floor to get a look at that book. “Where th’ hell do you keep finding these fuckin’ things?”

“This one I bought from a one armed man living out of a 1973 Oldsmobile Delta 88 Royale,” Kevin recites. Betelgeuse squints at him, top teeth over bottom lip. “You’re too gay to know what that means,” he says, plainly, and Kevin shrugs. “He wouldn’t stop talking about his stupid car. I now know more about that antique than I know about geography.” It feels fun, for a second, like this drama isn’t happening, and they’re just having a conversation. It doesn’t last, though. He can’t let Kev off the hook.

“So you bought a second cursed book, this time from some amputee homeless guy, and you’re just, doing the rituals inside of it? And this seems like a super good idea to you?”

“I’m practicing,” Kevin replies.

“So what’s in the closet, Kevin?”

“Get out of my room, Betelgeuse.”

The way Kevin says his name is weird. It doesn’t feel like how it normally feels when a breather says the full thing. He shakes it off, and gives his friend a defiant look, before waving a hand and throwing open the closet door. There’s a cleared spot, in the middle of the closet floor, and a fucking summoning circle in what smells like, “Pig’s blood? Couldn’t get human?” He turns to look at Kevin, who is glaring at him intently. He matches the look.

“Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my room.”

That gets his attention. It feels like an invisible hand is pushing him, and he stumbles back out of the room, confused. “W-what?” Kevin is just standing there, staring at him, and Betelgeuse stares back, eyes wild. “You motherfucker,” he hisses, eyes in snake slits, teeth sharp, claws extended. “You wanna do that “real name” bullshit with me? That the choice you’re makin’ here, Kev?”

Kevin doesn’t even look phased. “I’m working on gaining a bit more control, but looks like that works, for now.”

“You’re cracked!” Betelgeuse growls, absolutely furious. “You’re really tryin’ to summon me? Are you out of your head!?”

“You’re wasting your powers,” Kevin storms forward. “You’re a supernatural being, and you go to school and play your stupid ukulele, and don’t even try to do anything bigger. You could be stepping on everyone under you,” his former friend is going red in the face. “You could be leading, you could be ruling, but you just jerk off in your room and play pretend at being human. But someone might as well profit, here. Why not me?”

“I thought.. I thought we were friends,” is all the demon can say, lamely, and Kevin’s smile is the meanest thing he’s ever seen on a breather. “Once you’re fully listening to me, we can be friends again. Betelgeuse Shoggoth, get out of my house.”

He feels that same invisible pull, and he thinks maybe if he was stronger he could resist it, but a demon’s true name is like a lead on a dog, meant to control them, and unfortunately, Kevin has a tight hand on his leash. He makes it to the front door, and stumbles out, covering his face until he can calm himself enough to reapply his glamour.

Shit, he thinks, straightening up, and staring up at Kevin’s bedroom window. He is so fucked. ``````````````````````````````````````````````` Posted this chapter and another over at Ao3. You can read it right here

#beetlejuice fanfiction #beetlejuice broadway #lydia deetz #emily deetz #beetlejuice fic #beetlejuice the musical

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atlafan · 5 years ago

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Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Three

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, and some Angst.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Julia mostly kept her distance from Harry as much as she could for the rest of the week. She was embarrassed by what she had done, or what she had attempted to do. Harry couldn’t wait to get home to you. He felt slightly depressed Friday morning. It was your six month anniversary, and he wasn’t even there to be with you. He didn’t say much at breakfast.

“Everything alright, H? You should be happy, we’ve done great work this week.”

“I’m fine, I-“ His phone goes off. A notification from Instagram and Facebook.

You had edited together a video for him. It was of the two of you, different pictures and videos of the two of you over the last six months with one of your favorite songs in the background. It was a song you two had listened to on the way to New Hampshire. Your message in the caption was short and sweet.

To the man I’m lucky enough to call my boyfriend and the love of my life, six months may not seem like a long time to others, but I have loved nothing more than being with you all this time. You make every day better. I can’t wait to see what the next six months hold for us. I love you, Harry.

Harry put his phone down and put his face in his hands. He starts crying, leaving Christin and Julia deeply concerned and confused.

“Harry?” Christin puts a hand on his shoulder. He slides his phone over to her so she can watch the video. “Oh…honey…” He grabs a napkin and blows his nose. His eyes were red and puffy. “It’s your anniversary?” He nods his head yes. Christin had never seen him like this before. She finally understood he really had it bad. “This was shit timing, I’m so sorry.”

“I need to….I need to go call her, excuse me.” He sniffles and gets up to call you.

“Hi baby.” You coo.

“Hi…saw your video…”

“Are…are you crying?”

“No!” He wipes his eyes. “Okay, maybe a little, but only because it was so sweet and I just wish I was with you.”

“Oh, Harry.” You wish you were there to console him, your sensitive boy.

“Um…before I left I packed away something for you. Can I tell you where it is?”

“You don’t want me to wait until you get back?”

“No, it’s similar to what you did for me, so I want you to have it now.”

“Alright. Where would it be?”

“Go to where all of my picture boxes are.”

“Okay, one sec.” He hears you shuffle around. “Okay.”

“It’s in the box labeled London 2015.”

You open up the box and gasp, a smile grows on Harry’s face. Inside was a photo album with a picture of the two of you on the front. It looked like he had it made himself.

“Printed it at work.”

“Oh my god, Harry.”

“Flip through it later. Just wanted to know you had it.”

“I can’t wait to look through it, this is so sweet. I love you so much.” He feels tears prick at his eyes again.

“I love you too.”

“Only one more sleep baby.”

“I know.”

“I finished my period yesterday, so I’ll be good to go for you.” You joke, trying to make him happier.

“Well, that’s excellent news.” He chuckles, and then sighs. “I have to go…I’ll call you later.”

“Sounds good, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too, love you.”

“Love you too.”

He hangs up the phone and walks back over to the table. He slumps down in his chair. Christin looks at Julia, then to Harry.

“I’ll be fine.” He takes a sip of coffee. “I don’t want a word of this spread, do you both understand?” Christin smiles at him. “What?”

You sit down on the sofa with the book. The picture on the front was him kissing you on the cheek on the London Eye. You open it up, and on the first page was a message from him.

To my light, my love, my everything.

You smile big as you flip to the next page. It was the picture of the two of you laughing on the trail when you went to New Hampshire, just underneath was the picture he had taken of you, and the picture you had taken of him. The next page were of some silly selfies and pictures you had taken of each other when you had lazy days at each of your apartments. There were pictures from England he hadn’t shown you. Some from Christmas morning, and others while you walked around London. He must have been planning this book for a while. He had such an incredible eye, he was truly gifted at his craft. There were some pictures form your work party, and he had even managed to squeeze some pictures in from his birthday. When you were done you hugged it to your chest. You felt tears prick at your eyes, you were so overwhelmed.

You spent most of the morning organizing your linen closets, and medicine cabinets. Niall had been a big help all week. He help set up your wifi and TV. You had some pictures printed and put into frames. You left them on the floor under the walls where you wanted them. You didn’t want to hang anything up without Harry though, just to make sure he liked what you had put together.

During the midafternoon, you finally finished putting away all of yours and Harry’s clothes. You hoped he wouldn’t mind the way you folded his laundry, and chose the drawers each article should go in. Niall said he would meet you for dinner that night. At least you’d be able to go out with someone.

You meet him at an easy going bar after work.

“That video you posted was really sweet.”

“Thanks. He made me this really nice book filled with pictures of the two of us. I felt so bad, he called me crying this morning.” Your phone goes from a notification. “Oh wow.” You smile.

“What?”

“He posted about me on his private insta, look.” It was just on photo, and there was no caption, but it meant the world to you. “God, he’s so sweet.” You and Niall dig in to your food. “Are you seeing Sarah tonight?”

“Yeah, she’s comin’ over for dessert.” You both giggle.

“I’m so happy you guys are together. Do you think you two will ever move in together?”

“At some point. I was thinkin’ of givin’ her a key soon.”

“Oh! That’s great.”

“I have to say, selfishly I can’t wait for you to come back to work Monday. Was a borin’ week without ya.”

“I’m so sorry to have done that to you.” You put your hand over his playfully as you speak with a sarcastic tone.

“I ate in my office all week, the one day I tried to eat in the breakroom the old biddies came in and tried to gossip with me.”

“About what?” You laugh.

“I have no idea! I pretended to get a call on my phone and left.” You both laugh.

Dinner with Niall was the perfect distraction from missing Harry. When you get up to your place, and key in, you notice a pair of black boots in the front hall that weren’t there before you left. You practically run into the living room.

“Harry?!” He turns around to look at you, and he smiles brighter than you think you’ve ever seen.

You run into his arms. He picks you up and swings you around, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He stands there, just holding you as close as he can nestling his face into your neck, taking in a deep breath. He never thought he’d miss the smell of apples and cinnamon so much.

“What? How? I’m delighted, but confused.” You say looking at him.

“While I was talking to you this mornin’…Chris saw how upset I was and she changed my flight immediately. She knows her way around a camera, she covered for me today.”

“When did you get here?”

“Like thirty minutes ago. I’ve just been lookin’ around at everything you did. It’s amazing in here, you did such a great job.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him, you kiss him so hard you figure his lips will be bruised. He groans into you, and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. Your tongues collide, and you suck on his. God you missed the way the mint from his gum tasted. He starts walking you both towards the bedroom. Your lips detach as he sets you down, both trying to catch your breaths. He tugs at the hem of your shirt to lift it up overhead.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much.” He says pulling you close and sinking his teeth down into your neck. You moan out, and unhook your bra for him.

“I missed you too.” You say breathlessly.

His hands go right for your breasts, and he twists your nipple piercings. Your head falls back. He plasters wet, open mouthed kisses down your chest, and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking harshly.

“Ah, fuck.” Your hands reach for his pants. “Want you so bad, Harry.” You undo his belt and unzip his pants.

He shimmies them down his legs, and tugs your pants down as well. He takes his shirt off, grabs you, and practically throws you on the bed. You giggle and take your panties off, throwing them to the floor.

“I don’t even know what I wanna do first, I just want all of you.” He looks down at your body.

“You have me, do whatever you want.” You tilt his chin up so he’ll look at you. “I said you could annihilate me, remember?” You smile. “That is, if you did what I said. Were you a good boy while you were away?”

“Yes, very good. I’m about ready to fuckin’ explode.” He starts to spread your legs apart. “Did you hold up your end? Were you a good girl?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t easy. I was so lonely here all week.” You whimper as his thumb rubs over your clit lightly.

“You were?”

“Yes, wanted you every night.”

“And I bet it was even worse from the hormones?”

“It was torture.” You gasp when his fingers plunge inside you. Your head rolls back into the pillow, and your hand moves to his hair. “Oh my god, oh my god, fuck!” His fingers were already curling up inside you, rubbing against that special spot. His thumb rubs hard against your clit. “Fuck, Harry!” You come on his fingers.

“Jesus, don’t think you’ve ever reacted so quickly.” He smirks.

“Just felt so good.” He takes his fingers out and sucks on them.

“Missed the way you tasted.”

Your tongue peaks out of your mouth and he leans down to kiss you. You wrap your arms and legs around him. He slides his tip against your folds, just grinding against you.

“Please, Harry.”

“Can’t hear ya, love.”

“Please, for the love of god, put it in! Fuck me!”

Harry grins, and pushes inside of you. You both gasp at how tight and snug the fit is.

“Christ, a week without me and you…I mean…this is how it was when I first fingered you.” He bites down on your neck again and you arch up into him. “Feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes into your ear.

Your nails rake up his back as he starts to move. Your heels dig into the backs of his legs as he gets a rhythm going.

“You’re so big, Harry.” You say against his neck. “Love the way you fill me up.”

“Tell me you’ve never been fucked like this before.”

“I’ve never been fucked like this before. No one’s ever fucked me the way you do. I only ever want you inside me, forever.”

“Jesus, shit.” He pulls all the way out of you and flips you over. His ring clad hands squeeze your cheeks and you gasp. “Is this oaky? Can we do this?”

You look back at him over your shoulder, and grin.

“Wreck me, babe.”

His eyes grow wild. He grips your hips, and brings you up closer to him. You prop yourself onto your elbows. Harry lines himself up with your dripping center, and slowly slides in. The moan he makes is music to your ears, but you can’t help but clench tightly around him.

“Just me babe, you’re okay.” You relax slightly. He starts to move in and out of you slowly. “You have no idea how fuckin’ good this feels, and you looks beautiful from this angle.”

You moan in response and grip the blankets, your knuckles growing white. He keeps one hand on your hip and the other slides up your back. He desperately wanted to wrap his fist around your hair and pull you back to him, but he didn’t want to scare you.

“Doin’ alright?” He breathes harshly.

“Mhm.” You weren’t though. It felt really good, but you were struggling to stay in the moment.

He was hitting deep inside you. He lowers himself slightly, and reaches one of his hands around to rub your clit. You back your ass up against him.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He groans. You continue to grind back against him as he rubs your clit.

He fully lays on your back as he pumps in and out of you, making you collapse fully to the bed. The angle of his dick this was delicious and deep. You let out a loud moan, finally feeling like you could enjoy the position. You felt hot all over. Your orgasm was just around the corner.

“Harry, ngh, I’m gonna come. Holy shit! I’m gonna come!”

His release comes at the same time as yours. You weren’t sure what sound you let out, but you missed the way his hot come filled you up so much.

“Put your fingers in after you pull out.”

He does as you say and you arch up into him. He was still trying to catch his breath. You open your mouth for him and turn your head slightly to take his fingers into your mouth. You suck on his fingers and lap around them with your tongue. When you’re done, you roll over onto your back. You wipe your eyes. Your makeup got all fucked up.

“Were you okay?”

“Yeah.” You squeak.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“Yes, baby.” You push the hair that fell onto his forehead back.

“This room is huge.” He chuckles.

“I know! I put all our clothes away today. I’ve been loving the shower too, so much room.”

“Do you have plans tomorrow? Can we just stay here all day?”

“My only plans were picking you up from the airport.” You giggle. He turns your body towards his and squishes his nose to yours.

“Can I take ya out on a nice date tomorrow night? To make up for tonight?”

“You have nothing to make up for. Having you home a day early was the best surprise…but yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Good.” He kisses your lips lightly.

“Your gift was so lovely.”

“You looked through it?”

“Mhm, it was so sweet.”

“S’not all I got you.” He gets off the bed.

“Harry, we said no crazy gifts.” You sit up against the headboard.

“I know, it’s not crazy.” He rummages through his bag and takes out a long box. “Here.”

“Harry…”

“Just open it.” You open the box and smile. “Got you a proper chain for my ring.”

“I love it, thank you so much.” He leans down so you can kiss him.

“Do we have any food, I’m starvin’.”

“Let me make you something!” You switch the ring to the new chain. You gesture to have him help you clasp it. “Thanks. How’s it look?”

“Absolutely perfect.”

“Have you taken your pearls off?”

“Not once.” He smiles.

You get up and grab your robe out of the closet. You grab a brand new one out for him.

“What’s this?”

“Got you a robe of your own.” You giggle.

“I’m honored.” He puts it on, and follows you out to the kitchen.

“My mom said she wants to take us shopping for a proper dining room table.”

“She doesn’t have to do tha’.”

“I told her over and over, but she insisted.” You shrug. “What are you hungry for? I’ve got a salad made up, some leftover veggies and rice, some-“

“Veggies and rice, please.”

“You got it.”

You take the container out of the fridge and put some in a bowl for him to heat up. He wraps his arms around you from behind, and he nuzzles into the back of your neck.

“Mm, so cozy.” You coo.

“Missed ya so much, I can’t wait to cuddle all night.”

“Me too, baby.”

And you did. Harry kept his arms and legs wrapped around you all night. You slept pretty peacefully until you woke up drenched in sweat. He was fully on top of you, with his head on your chest, drool dripping down his chin. You sigh and try to turn over, but there’s no use. You chuckle softly to yourself and try to fall back asleep.

Harry didn’t let you leave the bed for nearly two hours when you first got up. He was like a ravenous animal. But you didn’t mind, you pretty hungry for him too. Distance truly makes the heart grow fonder. His stamina never ceased to amaze you. After another quick fuck in your giant shower, he gave you some time to yourself to get dressed.

He was in the kitchen making you some eggs when you came out in a sports bra and leggings. He plated them up for you, and put some toast on the side.

“Mm, thank you, I’m starving!”

“I’ll bet.” He smirks.

“Shut up.” You shovel the food into your mouth.

“Noticed some pictures and frames lyin’ around.”

“I didn’t want to hang anything up without you, baby. It’s not just my place it’s ours.” He smiles.

“After we eat we can hang some up, yeah?”

“Sounds good, and I left the heavy stuff alone like you said.”

“Good. I’m gonna bring a ton of my pictures up to the loft. Was thinkin’ of havin’ Niall over tomorrow so he could help me put my desk back together.”

“I can do that, I’m pretty handy.”

“Oh really?” He smirks.

“Yes, actually. My dad’s an electrician remember? He practically rebuilt our entire house. I helped him a lot. I know how to use a drill.”

“Okay then, will yeh help me with that today? I’d like to get all my shit up and runnin’.”

“Sure!” You kiss him on his cheek and clean up your plate.

Harry gets the tool box out and you start hanging up various pictures, a mixture of what you had hung up at both of your places. You kept some of the family photos in the hallways so they weren’t so “in your face”. There were a few you had printed of the two of you that you wanted hung up as well.

“Where do yeh want these, love?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be obnoxious with how cute we are…” He laughs.

“We could put them on the book shelves instead of hangin’ ‘em up.”

“Oh good idea. I wanna keep this one on my night table actually.” You snatch one of them and go into your bedroom to put it where you want. You come back out and see him placing the others in various spots.

“Ready to do my desk?”

“Yup!”

You help him carry up the pieces. Your desk was already up there and set up. It was the perfect space, and you enjoyed working up there.

“Can you hold the flashlight f’me, the screw holes on this thing are so fuckin’ dark.”

“Mhm.”

He gets under part of the desk with the screw driver and a few screws between his lips. You hold the flashlight for him how he asked. He gets the screws in, you loved watching him do this, you weren’t sure why. He stands up.

“There, didn’t need Niall at all.”

“Guess so.” He smirks. “Shall we break it in?”

“What?” You giggle.

“Let me bend ya over it.” He grabs at your hips.

“Little sore for that right now, you kept me pretty busy this morning.” He pouts his bottom lip out at you. “Oh stop it.” You swat an arm at him. “Let’s get your monitor and printer hooked up.”

“Fine.” He sighs.

You get him all set up, and move some of his equipment around so it looks nice and organized.

“Still plenty of room up here too.”

“I know! I was thinking when the holidays roll around we could decorate the staircase with lights and stuff, I think it would look really pretty.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He kisses the top of your head and you both go down the spiral staircase.

“Do you think every apartment here has a loft?”

“I don’t know, they could. Be really cool if they were all set up different.” He wraps his arms around you. “I appreciate you gettin’ so much done while I was gone. The place really looks great babe.” You lean up and kiss his nose.

“I was happy to do it.”

“I hope they don’t send me off like that again for a while. I had some fun while I was down there, but it would’ve been better with you.”

“You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your face into his chest. “Where you taking me tonight?”

“Somewhere really nice, way over the top.”

“Oh, Harry…I don’t wanna spend a lot of money.”

“You won’t be spendin’ a dime.” He pats your bum and goes to sit on the couch. He catches you rolling your eyes right as he sits down. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You sit down next to him, turning the TV on.

“Roll your eyes at me.” You turn your face slowly towards him. “Don’t do it?”

“Why? What are you gonna do about it? Spank me?” You scoff. His mouth forms into a straight line. “You’re a freak.” You shake your head and turn back to the TV. Your face snaps back to him.

“What?”

“You won’t spank our kids will you? I don’t believe in that.”

“Y/N…” He sighs. “How did your mind even just go there?”

“I don’t know!” You both start laughing hysterically.

“To answer your question, no I wouldn’t spank our kids. Only person gettin’ a spank to their ass in this house is you baby girl.” Your jaw drops.

“You need to stop.”

“Why?” He smirks.

“Why do you want to spank me so bad?”

“Love watchin’ that ass ripple.”

“Harry!” You smack him in the arm and get up.

“What?” He says laughing.

“I’m very self-conscious about my butt.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He gets up. “You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“But it’s so jiggly.” You pout.

“Yeah…it’s sexy.”

“Stop it.”

“It is! Love that I have somethin’ to hold onto.” You scrunch your face at him.

“Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You know you have a beautiful body, why are you gettin’ like this?”

“I’m not getting like anything.” You pout. “I just don’t like everything about my body…”

“Would you rather have a flat ass?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying…I don’t know. I have stretch marks and-“

“Y/N, please, I can’t listen to you talk about yourself like that.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I wouldn’t let anyone talk about you like that, including yourself. Just don’t.”

“I can’t help that I feel that way sometimes.”

“You take such good care of yourself, inside and out. You’re so beautiful, every part of you is beautiful, okay?” You nod reluctantly. “Thank you.” He kisses your forehead.

“I’m gonna go pick an outfit out.” He nods and lets you walk away.

Harry had been around women his whole life. There was plenty he understood, but the one thing he would never understand is how a woman’s mind could just flip a switch like that. One second you’re having fun banter, and the next you’re talking shit about yourself from simple comment he made. He had no idea you felt that way about yourself. He figured you just preferred the lights off most times because you were shy, not because you were self-conscious. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to go stand in the doorway of your bedroom.

You were standing in front of your closet pondering on what you might like to wear. It was a little colder out, and you weren’t sure you felt like a dress. You had a really nice pair of black dress pants that were slightly high waisted, so you pull those out and lay them on the bed. You turn and see Harry standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” You chuckle.

“Just makin’ sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” You look back at your closest and pull out a few tops that would work with the pants. “Think I’m gonna go for slacks tonight.”

“Anything you wear will be perfect.”

“Alright mooshball.” You shake your head at him. You pick up a long sleeve pastel blue crop top and decide that would look nice with the pants. There was a cute ruffle on the bottom so your skin would barely even be showing. “I’m gonna take some time to do my hair and makeup, okay?”

“Okay.”

Harry goes up to the loft to get a jump on his pictures form Florida. You shake your hair out and run your curler through it. You brush out the curls to get a nice wave. You put your clothes on and start to do your makeup. Harry comes down to get dressed himself. He didn’t see you because you were in the bathroom. He pulled out a white button up and a navy pair of dress pants. You come out of the bathroom and smile as he pulls up his pants.

“Handsome.” You coo. He turns to look at you.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks baby.”

“Love the way my ring looks on that chain.” You twist it between your fingers.

“Me too.” You slip your feet into a pair of one inch black heels. You knew they wouldn’t hurt your feet too much.

Harry tucks his pearls under the collar of his shirt and smile at the way the rest of the dangle. You were happy he was happy with them. He runs his hands through his hair a couple times and turns towards you.

“Shall we?”

“Mhm.”

He keeps his hand on your thigh the entire car ride. He takes you to a fancy French restaurant that you had heard of, but had never been to. You go inside and are seated right away. Harry must have made the reservation when he thought he was still going to be away. Harry has your favorite wine ordered to the table, and you clink your glasses once it’s poured.

“Happy six months, love.”

“Happy six months.” You both smile and take a sip. You lick your lips after. You end up ordering a bowl of creamy tomato soup and a salad. Harry ordered ratatouille.

“Soup and salad is really all you want?” He looks slightly disappointed.

“Yeah, I love cream of tomato soup. I got a whole bowl, I’m excited.” You take another sip of the wine.

The food was delicious. You couldn’t help the small moan you let out when you tasted the soup. Harry told you more about his trip, and what it was like to dive under water.

“Wish I could’ve seen you in the wet suit.” You giggle.

“There was no wet suit, I went in with a t-shirt and trunks on. They hooked me up with some air and I went under.”

“Is that safe?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Water was plenty warm for me.”

“I’m sure Julia enjoyed seeing you in a drenched t-shirt.”

“God, please, don’t say that.” He groans.

“Is everything going to be okay with her at work?”

“I think so. She sort of let me be the rest of the week. I think she was embarrassed.”

“Good, she should be. Trying to make a move on my man like that.” You take a bite of your salad.

“Didn’t seem too upset about it over the phone.” He smirks.

“I’m still not upset. I’m just saying, I’m glad you put her in her place. Hope it’s not weird for her next time I show up at the studio.”

“She’ll probably steer clear of you.” He gasps with excitement. “Maybe this means she’ll bother me less in general. Wouldn’t that be nice?” You laugh at him and shake your head. “I have to go to my old campus Wednesday night by the way.”

“For what?”

“Lou’s gonna pop the question to El.”

“That’s so exciting!”

“I’m going to hide somewhere to take pictures for them.”

“They both have the day off from work?”

“Guess so.” He shrugs.

“The day after that is Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t he just propose then?”

“Didn’t want it to be too corny.”

“I get that, it’s kind of tacky to propose on a holiday now that I think about it.”

“What makes it tacky?”

“I don’t know, if something went wrong the holiday would be tainted forever. You’re also sharing it with everyone else in the world. A day like that should be special and totally your own. Props to him.” Harry takes in everything you’re saying and makes a mental note.

You look over out the window in the restaurant and notice that it’s snowing. You grimace.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, I’m just done with winter I think. I’m counting down the days until I got to Aruba already.”

“Oh.”

“Booked my flight while you were gone, I got a really good deal. I managed to get on the same flight as my mom too. You’d be fine having her spend the night with us before right? We have a really early flight and since you and I live closer to the airport I thought she could stay with us.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. When do you leave?”

“Um, a couple days before Easter I think. Has your mom and sister said if they’re coming here or not?”

“Haven’t exactly had a chance to talk about it with them.” His jaw tenses and you notice immediately.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Just this whole vibe you’re giving off right now.” You gesture in his direction. “You’re allowed to leave for a week for a work thing, but I can’t go on a family trip?”

“I never said that.”

“Well, that’s how you’re acting.” You cross your arms.

“I’m not going to fight with you right now.”

“Who said we were fighting?”

“Y/N, cut the attitude, we’re in a restaurant.” You scoff at him.

“I’m not the one with the attitude, you are.”

“Don’t you think it would be nice for you and I to take a tip to some tropical island together?”

“Harry, of course I would love to do that with you, but my Nannie invited me to come on her annual trip, and I had a lot of fun last year. It’s really hard for her to go there by herself because her and my Papa went there together for like twenty years. She needs me there.” You feel tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Calm down, I never said you couldn’t go.” Your eyes widen with rage.

“As if I needed your permission.”

“S’not what I meant.” You roll your eyes at him. “Jesus, fuck, this was supposed to be a nice dinner.”

“And it is, the food is delicious.” He sighs heavily.

“I feel like I can never say anythin’ right sometimes.”

“You say a lot of things right, but I’m going to call you out of I notice something. I’ve known you long enough to pick up on when you’re mad about something.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah really. The second I saw your jaw tense.”

“It’s so cool how you put your communication degree to work like that. All that knowledge about nonverbal communication and shit.” He says facetiously.

“Alright, I’m done.” You say putting your fork down.

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“Please, get the check from the waiter.” You stand up and put your jacket on. “I’ve lost my appetite.” You reach into his jacket pocket and pull out his keys. “I’ll be in the car.” He grabs your wrist.

“Are you serious?”

“You wanna be a child and act up in a public place? I’m going to sit there and have you talk to me like that.” You yank your wrist free and walk out of the restaurant. You get into the passenger seat of the car and turn it on. You take a deep breath and wait for him. You truly didn’t understand him sometimes.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles angst fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #here you go!#hope it was worth the wait #cant wait to know what you think #i know some of you are going to be mad at me

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justpan · 5 years ago

Photo

Title: Unwilling Bride

Pairing: Peter x Reader

Summary: Pirates are planning an attack and all hands are on board to prepare for battle...maybe even the wrong hands.

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 Part 5 Part 6 Part 7 Part 8 Part 9 Part 10 Part 11 Part 12 Part 13 Part 14 Part 15 Part 16 Part 17 Part 18 Part 19 Part 20 Part 21 Part 22 Part 23 Part 24 Part 25 Part 26 Part 27 Part 28 Part 29 Part 30

Now that Bae had “escaped” the island, it was just a waiting game.

Waiting for him to grow up and meet the product of true love so that they could create the truest believer.

Peter of course kept his eyes on this but there was very little he could do to hurry things along, no matter how much he wished he could have.

You wished that there was something you could do to help him, but there wasn’t anything that you could do either; plus you weren’t sure if he wanted to talk to you at all at this point.

Now that you and Rufio were an item.

It seemed like things around camp were still trying to find a new way to operate; everyone was walking on eggshells either around Pan or you and Rufio. Despite how often you assured the Lost Boys that you no longer harbored any ill feelings for your ex.

Of course you and Peter weren’t exactly friendly enough to spend time together away from camp business but you were at least able to speak with each other directly, which was a huge improvement.

Business was all it was though, it was like he had decided to keep you at an arm's length, and you understood why.

You couldn’t stand to even see him walking toward Wendy’s hut back when you had first divorced, you couldn’t imagine seeing him with her the way he saw you with Rufio.

Laughing by fires, playfully wrestling during training and sneaking off to your little hide away for more...intense making out.

To his credit Peter never seemed to hold a grudge against Rufio, not that he really could without being obvious. Rufio was a great addition to the Lost Boys; he was an amazing hunter and he had even begun training other boys in acrobatics, showing them how to use the trees of Neverland to their advantage.

Things were tense but they were working, you were happy.

Only one thing seemed to be an issue… Wendy.

She had apparently complained and whined enough about feeling cooped up in that hut that Pan had finally caved and given her one simple task.

Berry and herb collecting.

The most basic chore, and it had been basically marked as pointless since the pirates delivered plenty of food and herbs, but the little twit felt like she was contributing to the camp.

You were sitting down skinning today’s kill when Wendy came and sat next to you, staring at you wordlessly.

‘What do you want?’ you asked in annoyance as you stayed focused on the rabbit you were busy with.

‘I want to be friends with you.’ she said quickly.

‘Why? Because I’m the only girl here, want to braid each other’s hair and talk about all the cute boys here?’ you scoffed.

‘No…’

You looked at her from the corner of your eye.

‘Well, we don’t have to braid hair or talk about boys...but it would be nice to be friends with at least one person here, and I have nothing in common with the boys.’ Wendy confessed.

‘You have nothing in common with me, other than what’s between your legs.’

‘That can’t be true, my mother always told me every woman has something in common with another.’

‘Really? Have you ever shot an arrow, or been hit by one?’ you asked.

‘No!’ Wendy gasped in horror.

‘Skinned any squirrels?’

‘No.’

‘Then not a lot in common.’

‘Have you ever...bled through your skirts?’ Wendy tried.

The laugh that shot out of you nearly startled you, you had never thought that she would bring up the thing one the two of you would have in common.

‘Of course I have!’ you laughed.

As you continued to laugh Wendy joined in as well and you thought of how confused all the boys must be to see the two of you laughing together, and that just made you laugh harder.

‘Oh my God! Sit down you daffodil, if you can handle the shit show that is your period then you can handle skinning a few squirrels.’ you invited, handing her a squirrel and a skinning knife.

The girl looked horrified, but she took the two items, holding them like they were poisonous.

‘We are not friends, but I think your life here would be better if you stopped being so soft. That’s why the boys are so annoyed by you, you try to apply your stupid manners to them; manners that mean dog shit in a place like this.’ you explained as you showed her how to cut through the skin and pull it off in one go.

‘I know...it's just hard to forget how I was raised.’

‘Where you from Wendy, Oz? Boys from there always seem to be more polite.’ you conversed as you watched her struggle to remove the skin like you showed her.

‘Oz...no I’m from England.’

‘England? As in my world? Do you know anything about America?’ you asked, suddenly interested.

‘America? Yes I believe that’s where the bad people are sent to work.’ she said as she finally completed her task, proudly showing off her feat.

‘Yikes so you are from WAY back in the day.’ you sighed.

The two of you conversed while you skinned the game, Wendy of course sticking to the smaller animals while you tackled the deer and boar.

Eventually Rufio came up to you and kissed your cheek.

‘Stop it, I'm busy.’ you smiled, making no move to push him off.

‘What if I came to help? Can I stay then?’ he asked, holding up his own knife.

‘Depends, did you sharpen all the weapons, that was your chore for the day.’

Your boyfriend made a completely offended face, showing you his knife again.

‘Look at this beauty, have you ever seen a blade so sharp? I think I might cut myself just by looking at it.’ he boasted.

‘It is a lovely piece of work.’ Wendy spoke up politely.

Rufio sent her a look as if he was only now seeing her right there, then he looked over to you in confusion.

‘We’ve found common ground over the fact that both of our vaginas shed.’ you smiled.

‘Great...is this that feminism you told me about?’ he asked as he took hold of a boar and started skinning it.

‘Part of it.’ you answered.

The three of you made basic small talk as you skinned all your animals and once you were finished Tootles came to take them and make jerky.

‘I don’t understand why everyone still hunts, the pirates bring us plenty of food.’ Wendy said.

‘Keeps my boys sharp, I don’t need a camp full of fat lazy hormonal idiots. This island would eat them alive, and Pan has a reputation that is bound to lead someone with bad intentions our way. If my parents did me any favors it was teaching me to always be prepared for a shit show.’ you said.

‘And it’s fun, not like there is anything else to do but beat the hell out of each other and descend into chaos. We need the organization.’ Rufio said as you all looked over at a random brawl that was taking place.

‘This is organized?’ Wendy asked in horror.

‘Completely organized.’ Felix said as he approached your little trio.

‘Oh looky here, where have you been Fruitcake?’ Rufio smiled.

‘With Pan.’ the scarred boy replied.

‘With Pan as in...with Pan.’ you teased, lowering the tone in your voice.

‘As in we have real business to discuss, come on I’ll fill you in on the way.’ he said as he walked past.

‘His bedside manner needs a lot of work.’ you sighed as you bid your boyfriend and Wendy farewell.

Felix led you toward Peter’s Thinking Tree, a place you were not too fond of, considering he had tied you to it when you first met.

‘What’s going on?’ you asked.

‘Pirates, looks like they might be up to something, deliveries are coming later and shorter and they seem to be getting a bit too bold. Pan thinks they might be preparing to attack.’

‘That makes no sense, from how it was explained to me they got a pretty sweet deal with us. Why attack and risk losing it?’

‘They are dumb adults with too much pride.’ Felix said in annoyance.

‘Now that you know what I do, tell me something I don’t know. Like how are things with you and the Rooster.’

‘Things are great, he’s great and he treats me great. Things with him just flow naturally with no rush and no hesitation. I really like him.’ you answered.

‘So it’s boring.’ Felix hummed.

‘No! It is not boring, it's...safe. I like him and he likes me, we get along and he’s sweet and attractive as hell. Nothing is wrong with us, we are a good couple.’ you defended.

‘Safe? Look at where you live...you don’t like safe (Y/N).’ he said.

‘I do like safe, when it comes to relationships. I like knowing that I’m never going to wake up one day and everything between me and Rufio has just...changed. Or worry that the whole time it was all just some scheme.’

‘I can’t speak on whatever Pan’s plans are or were, but I can say he seemed happier with you. I think it was real.’ Felix reasoned.

‘So did I, but then it wasn’t, then he told me it was. It was all such a yo-yo game and I just can’t get back on the string man. Rufio is safe and I like that...I need that.’ you finished.

‘Fine, your business I guess, but my curiosity begs to know...how safe is my friend.’ Felix asked.

‘What do you mean?’

‘How far have you two gotten? The bastard won’t tell me anything.’

‘Well Nosy, if you must know; we’ve done…’ you paused.

‘You’ve done what?’ he urged.

‘...pretty much the same as I did with Peter.’ you grinned as your friend rolled his eyes.

‘So still no real sex, I honestly don’t know how you’ve waited this long, Lord knows I couldn’t wait to get my hands on a good chunk of these boys.’

‘Even Rufio?’ you gasped.

‘Ew no...it’s practically incest, even I have some morality.’ he laughed.

At last you two arrived at the thinking tree and saw Peter sitting at the roots, twirling the vile of fairy dust he wore on his neck.

About a year ago the Thinking Tree went dry and he couldn’t get anymore so he was saving the last of his supply for an emergency. So that meant no more flying for him and you could all tell that it depressed the hell out of him.

‘Felix filled me in. What’s the plan and what do I need to do?’ you asked as you crouched down in front of him.

‘They’re camping near Mermaid Lagoon, which is risky but smart. If I weren’t so clever I’d never expect anyone to anchor their ship in such a dangerous spot and they could creep on through the woods around the Forgotten Forest and ambush our camp.’ Pan explained as he drew a crude map in the dirt to show the path from the Lagoon to your camp.

‘But you are clever, so what are we going to do when they attack?’ Felix asked as he leaned against the tree.

‘Place the archers in the trees, clubs and swords in the bushes, nice and swift battle.

‘Are you kidding me?’ you scoffed.

‘What is wrong with that plan?’ Pan asked.

‘Nothing, if you want casualties and a boring fight no one is going to think about next week.’ you said.

With a slightly disappointed sigh you wiped away his map and drew your own.

‘Move the camp, leave the clearing empty to make the battlefield, have fences built in to trap the pirates in once they arrive. When that is done clubs and swords drop down from the trees; leave the archers on the ground behind the trees and bushes. Once they are ready to flee we let down the fence and send them off knowing not to attack us ever again.’ you explain as you drew out your plan in the dirt.

‘That’s huge.’ Felix said as he also crouched down to look over your plan.

‘It is...so big no one would even think to expect it… but it might be too big. I expect an attack in a matter of weeks. We don’t have time to build fences and move the camp.’ Pan argued.

‘Then I will magic the camp into a new spot and that will give the boys more time to work on the fences.’

‘I can have our best builders working on it now. And the rest can compact the camp so it's easier for (Y/N) to move.’ Felix added.

Peter looked hesitant but he nodded and sent Felix off.

You were considering leaving too but something in your gut was telling you that Peter was upset about something.

‘What’s wrong?’

‘Nothing.’

‘Try that with someone else who doesn’t know you, you’ve been frowning since you heard my plan.’

‘Your plan is great...perfect even.’

‘So what is the issue, do you think it’s too risky?’

‘No, I just...I would have liked to have been a part of it more but I can’t do much to help with how weak my magic is becoming. If it weren’t for my shadow, I wouldn’t have even known something was wrong since I can’t patrol the island anymore.’ he said as he stood up.

‘Hey, you are doing plenty and we will get through this, it’s child’s play.’ you assured him.

‘You don’t need to placate me (Y/N), it doesn’t help. I’ll just keep eyes on the pirates for now and I’ll let you know when they are close.’ Peter said as he turned to walk away.

‘Wait.’

Peter turned back and looked at you.

‘The boys miss you at camp, and now more than ever they are going to want to see you. It’s nice to see the person you follow into battle and I don’t think they want to see you full of doubt.’

‘I doubt they want to see how useless I am now, do you think they follow me because of my winning personality? It’s my power that they respect and I’m losing it (Y/N), once that’s gone I’m going to lose them.’ he said before walking away.

You wished you could say something to say make him feel better but you know deep down he was right. Every single Lost Boy survived their old lives by being cut throat and while here there was an obvious hierarchy you had to imagine a good amount of them still had ambition.

Without Pan at the helm the island would descend into pure chaos and mutiny.

You had to shake away those thoughts and focus on what was happening now; pirate attacks.

There was a lot of work to be done and thankfully Felix wasted no time on briefing the boys on what was about to go down and got them in action immediately.

‘Pull as much as you can into your tents, its easier to move full tents than everything item by item! Move it boys, this isn’t a game, pack this shit in, fill the tent’s to the brim!’ you yelled as you entered the camp.

It was full on panic as everyone was running around picking up everything they could pick up and placing it in tents. Whenever one was full you would send it off to another clearing that was closer to your little room but further from the Lagoon.

You found it so odd sometimes, your magic still felt as strong as it had always been, but Peter’s seemed to fade more and more as the days went on. You imagined it had to do with his ties to that Hourglass and the island.

Eventually the sun was setting, another thing that was odd to you, daylight felt like it only lasted five hours. At first you wanted to chop it all up to time being useless here and you simply losing track of it, but one day you took the time to pay attention and you knew it for sure.

Plants were drying, animals were becoming harder to find, days were shortening and Peter’s magic was weakening...it wasn’t hard for you to put it all together.

The island was dying, and Peter was scared.

With it being dark now and the temperature dropping you let them all turn in, letting everyone know it was going to be an early start tomorrow.

You noticed Wendy hadn’t been helping too much with heavy lifting but it looked like she was at least trying. Took her about thirty seven years but she was finally putting in the effort to try and help around camp.

For the next two weeks everyone was focused on the tasks at hand, building fences and preparing for the attack.

Everything was perfect and everyone was excited for what was sure to be an easy win and an epic battle; even Wendy who was certainly not fighting in it, but she would play a very big part in it.

You had sent her off to make sure the tents were being sent to the right clearing, in other words you were getting her out of the way.

What you didn’t plan on was her being dumb enough to get lost in the Forgotten Forest, the one place even Pan’s shadow couldn’t navigate and you certainly didn’t think the Pirates were also that foolish.

But at last they were, and they did cross paths.

Wendy stood before this large group of filthy men and their weapons and she felt frozen with fear as they looked at her, taking in her stupid cute dress and defenseless self.

‘Well boys looky what we have here, I guess even Pan needs to have his needs met.’ Hook smiled dangerously as he approached the frozen girl.

He raised his hook and threateningly slid it down her face, leaving a trail of reddened skin in his wake.

‘P-please don’t.’ she said as a tear fell from her eyes.

‘Oh sweetheart what do you think of us? We would never hurt such a young...cooperative girl like you.’ he said with a dark look.

#peter pan imagine #ouat imagine #peter pan ouat #peter pan x reader #Felix #reader x rufio #hook ouat #unwilling bride series

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