#his fans asking why now?? darling its his way to no disappear to be talked about

[louiseyesinsky]

Last thing, less than a week he started to "not disappear"

[lqvesoph]

Right person, wrong time || LN4

lando norris x childhood sweetheart/ex gf!reader

summary: lando and reader haven’t seen each other since their break up 6 years ago, now at a grand prix where her current boyfriend is invited, they meet again

kind of like the "in a room full of people i know who i would run to but i also know who i would stare at the whole time"

masterlist | taglist

You really did hope you wouldn’t run into him today…

But standing opposite of the Mclaren hospitality and inside your boyfriend’s arm, you knew it was a lie. Because who are you kidding? The whole time you have been inside the paddock you looked around you, almost waiting to catch a glimpse of the curly headed McLaren driver.

But now you locked eyes with him from opposite of his teams home and all the emotions dared to come up.

Lando shook his head as if to escape the trance the eye contact with you had put him in and turned around, walking hastily back into the hospitality.

"Right, baby?", you heard your boyfriend Theo smile and felt his hand squeeze your hip. You tore your eyes away from the orange building and put a fake smile on your face. "You never were really into motor racing growing up? That was until you met me", Theo repeated, helping you with the conversation.

"Oh, yes totally! My dad is a huge fan but I rarely watched", you lied. "Of Mercedes, I hope", Toto Wolff joked, making you chuckle. "In fact, he is."

*~*~*~*~*~*

The sight of Lando didn’t leave your thoughts for the rest of the day.

He looked so much different. So much taller, broader and older.

Theo was off with a few team members showing him this years car while you stood back a little.

"Y/n, is that you?", an all too familiar voice asked behind you, making you turn around. "I thought it was you", George Russell smiled, opening his arms to give you a hug. "It’s been ages! I haven’t seen you since you and Lando-", George started talking but let his words trail at the end.

"Anyways, how are you? What have you been up to?", he quickly put a smile back on his face. "I‘m good, thank you! I just finished university", you told him. "Interior Design still?", George smirked, remembering what you had told him over six years ago. You chuckled and nodded. "Yes, Interior Design."

George had always been one of you best mates when you and Lando were together, you just clicked. But when Lando and you called it quits, you disappeared from the paddock, cutting off everyone and everything that reminded you of Lando.

You even stopped watching Formula 1. You tried to but when they showed a nervous small Lando before his first race in Australia, you started bawling your eyes out at the feeling of missing him.

You thought now, six years later, the memories and scars would have faded at least a little while, which is why you agreed to join your boyfriend when he was invited by Mercedes. But now being here, back in the paddock, the wounds still felt as fresh as on the first day.

"Darling, you have to see this!", Theo called, a huge smile on his face. George and you turned around. A frown creeping its way on George‘s face as he connected the dots, figuring out that the guy that had called you must be your boyfriend.

"Coming!", you called, giving George a smile and hurrying over to your boyfriend.

Seeing George reminded you of Lando and of memories you tried so hard to push away.

*~*~*~*~*~*

After Theo had excitedly explained to you the different parts of a Formula 1 car to you, you told him you need to get some fresh air and would be back in a few minutes.

Theo didn’t know about your past in this world, including Lando. You knew every little part of that damn car, you even sat in one when Lando tested the McLaren cars the year before he debuted in Formula 1.

You quickly walked down the paddock, breathing heavily at the thought of all those memories until someone called your name, making you stop in your tracks.

You closed your eyes until you felt a hand on your shoulder, sending sparks through your whole body.

"I can’t believe it’s really you", Lando whispered as you turned around.

Being this close, you could even see the dark stubbles on his chin, smiling at the memory of 17 year old Lando complaining about not being able to grow a beard.

"Hi", you breathed, not quite knowing how to act. Lando chuckled. "Hi."

"Uh- what… what brings you into the paddock?", he then asked, nervously fiddling with his fingers, a habit that he hasn’t broken in all those years.

"I‘m here with my boyfriend", you said, watching as hurt flashed before Lando‘s eyes and a frown sneaked on his face.

"Oh", he simply said, trying to play down the hurt he felt. "That‘s- uh great."

"You wanna come to the hospitality?", Lando changed the topic. And against your better judgment and your head screaming at you not to say yes, you nodded, making a relieved smile make its way on Lando’s face.

You tried to ignore the glance the two of you got when you walked passed the McLaren team members and up to Lando‘s driver room.

You hesitantly looked around the small room as Lando closed the door.

"So, what have you been up to?", he broke the silence, making you move your attention to the curly headed boy. "I- uh just finished university and we‘re moving to Spain this fall", you told him, still avoiding his eyes.

"Spain, huh? Where in Spain?", Lando continued, ignoring the 'we'. "Madrid." Your reply made Lando frown. "Why not Barcelona? You love Barcelona!"

"Well, Theo liked Madrid quite a lot so…", you said, making Lando huff. But you ignored it.

"How have you been?", you asked. "Good, uh, yeah. The car‘s pretty good and the team is just amazing", he smiled, but you could tell it was forced. "That‘s great!", you said, wondering why you even agreed to come to talk to him. In private. In a closed room. In his driver room.

A rather awkward silence settled over you until Lando broke it once again. "What happened to us?", he carefully whispered which made you close your eyes. You assumed this conversation would eventually lead to this point.

"We grew up, Lando", you replied quietly. "But why didn’t we grew up together?", he asked, looking directly at you. "We didn’t want the same thing anymore or more like we couldn’t have the same thing anymore", you said, still not looking at Lando.

You never had a proper conversation about what led to your break up. Maybe it was because you were too young and the pain of it overshadowed all the logical thoughts on how to handle it.

"I, for my part, was so happy for you. I knew this was all you dreamed of. But somewhere between summer and winter of 2018 we started to drift apart. You were busy and away quite a lot, and I‘m not entirely blaming you for that, I also didn’t really put in an effort and for that I’m sorry", you spoke softly, thinking back on your teen years.

"I‘m so sorry, darling. I should’ve made more of an effort, to visit home more often or to at least call", Lando apologized, fiddling with his fingers. "Me too, Lando, me too", you mumbled, feeling the tears forming in the corner of your eyes.

"You were the person who taught me everything. Taught me how to ride a bike, how to have fun and most importantly how to love. But Lando we were kids, merely 18 years old. We both weren’t mature enough to actually hold that relationship. Hell, we weren’t even mature enough to talk about our break up", you spoke, your eyes on the verges of tears.

"But what about now?", Lando asked hopeful and reached for one of your hands, wrapping it in his.

You let out a painful laugh. "I‘m in a relationship and I love Theo, so much", you muttered. "Then why are you still in here with me?", Lando posed the question that you had asked yourself already, not daring to give yourself and answer.

"Because… a part of me will always love you. But sometimes that just isn’t enough", you whispered, pulling your hand away from Lando‘s and standing up.

Walking back to your boyfriend, all you could think about was the conversation you just had and if you had made the right decision.

You forced a half smile when Theo spotted you and opened his arms. "Where have you been, the race is almost starting", he smiled, pressing a kiss to your temple.

"You know just wandering around, discovering the paddock", you lied, settling in your boyfriends’ arms and focusing your attention on the TV.

But without meaning to, your eyes immediately searched for Lando during the national anthem, your heart beating slightly faster when they showed the line up and even more when he overtook Max Verstappen to take the race lead after the first corner.

Still, you stood in Theo‘s arms till the end of the race, watching Lando up on the podium from afar.

masterlist | taglist

@im-an-overthinker @buendiabebeta @hungryhungariann @ohthemisssery @kenopsiababe @sawendel @enjoymyloves @ricsaigaslec @ravenqueen27 @temqr1 @leclerc16s @theamazingsimplethings-blog @coldmuffinbanditshoe @hotchnisscm97 @andtheworldiscrashingdownonme @moneymasnn @justme2042 @amulhermaisfelizdomundo @pleasantducktimetravel @anthonykatebridgerton @lisannehus @hannahholland1811 @lighttsoutlewis @mydutchproblem @dan3avocado @alwaysclassyeagle @cocomiracle @allthisfortommy @soleilgrec @cheeryara-blog @person2345-blog @aquamariene-me @judespoision @sbgal @teti-menchon0604 @darleneslane @flower-name @mehrmonga @paolexsstuff @paolexsstuff @kiskso

[arvinsescape]

Attention.

A/N: I’m back! Felt ready to post something, I’m not sure on a schedule yet but I’m going to try and start posting a few things again! Things are looking better at the minute and I’m in a better head space.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of smut.

W/C: 5.1K.

Your chest tightened the longer you sat there, glass of wine in your hand as you slouched in your chair. The tears you felt building behind your eyes burning your eyeballs as you blinked rapidly to hold them back. You knew he’d been distant recently, spending less time with you over the last couple of weeks but you hoped tonight that’d change, apparently not. You’d been sat here now for forty-five minutes waiting for Tom to show up and so far? Nothing.

The looks you were receiving from the waitress were beginning to annoy you, you hated pity, you really did. She knew who you were and who you were waiting for, she’d served you many times before in this restaurant, she was lovely and probably didn’t mean anything by her pitiful looks. You reached for the bottle of wine as you refilled your glass, the waitress making her way over.

“Are you ready to order?” She asked and you looked up at her with a sad smile receiving one in return.

“I’ll just take the bill please.” You said in defeat as she nodded in understanding and disappeared. You almost jumped in your seat as the one across from you scraped across the floor, Tom making an appearance.

“I’m so sorry darling, I got held up.” He said as he reached for your hand across the table, you gave him a tight-lipped smile and allowed him to place his hand over yours. Not wanting to cause a scene. “You look beautiful.” He said as he ran his thumb along the back of your hand and you smiled at him.

“Thank you.” You sighed out and he furrowed his brows.

“Are you okay?” He asked and you nodded. “You sure? I’m sorry I was fifteen minutes late baby.” Baby it made your heart flip in your chest, he hadn’t called you that in almost three weeks, it was always your favourite pet name he gave you. That and Princess had the ability to make you crumble at his feet but not right now, the ache in your chest intensifying.

“Forty-five.” You corrected quietly and his furrow deepened as the waitress returned, bill in hand. She looked almost as surprised as you had to see Tom sat across from you.

“Do you still want the bill?” She asked and before you could speak Tom interrupted.

“No, sorry to mess you around but I got my times mixed up. I think we’re good to eat now?” Tom asked you and you shrugged in response. Tom and the waitress both looking at you for a straight answer. You felt bad holding her up and messing her around, it was a busy night for her, you could see that.

“Yeah, we’re good. I’m sorry for messing you around.” You smiled apologetically and she smiled in response, dismissing your panic and taking Tom’s drinks order and yours for a second bottle of wine.

“Darling- “

“Don’t Tom, I’m not in the mood.” You interrupted and he nodded slightly in response, neither of you a fan of making a scene in public. “How was your day?” You asked as you took in a deep breath, ready to make this as civil as possible. Tom sensed it, he knew this was going to be short lived, the civility between the two of you would end as soon as you stepped foot through the door to your home.

“It was, yeah, it was good, nothing to report.” He shrugged and your anger brewed, he was late, got held up but didn’t have anything to report? “Yours?”

“Yeah, was good, busy day in the office but other than that it was fine.” You said with a small smile.

This continued on, the dinner being far from what you’d been hopeful for. You ate, made small talk, finished your drinks, paid the bill and walked home. It was cold on the walk home, your arms covered in goosebumps, silently cursing yourself for not bringing a jacket. You rubbed your hands along your arms to try and create friction and warm your cold arms.

“Here.” Tom said as he handed you his blazer, you were feeling stubborn, wanting to give him the cold shoulder.

“I’m good.” You said.

“Y/N,” he warned, he knew he was in the wrong, but that didn’t stop him worrying about you and being his usual protective self. “I know you’re angry with me and we’re gonna talk about it but you’re cold, please don’t be so stubborn, I don’t want you to get ill.” He said as he placed the blazer around your shoulders.

Your heart lifted as you became encased in his warmth, became encased in his scent you’d missed over the last couple of weeks. You pulled the blazer on properly, hands digging into the pockets to try and warm them up, it was working, slowly, nothing like when it was in Tom’s but that wasn’t an option right now. The feeling of dread hit you as you made your way up the driveway and into the house, the inevitable argument you were about to have settling in your chest.

You made your way into the living room, Tom following carefully behind as you took your heels off and greeted Tess, bag finding its way to the floor. You took in the living room, the TV in standby but the orange light of his PlayStation catching your eye. It was in rest mode, a sign he’d been on it before heading out to meet you and showed his intention of firing it back up when he returned. It made your blood boil, that’s why he was late.

“Darling..” he trailed off as he watched the realisation set in on your face.

“Were you late because you were gaming with the boys?” You asked and watched as Tom cringed at how awful it sounded.

“I swear I lost track of time.” He defended and you nodded as you walked passed him and into the kitchen. “Princess, I’m sorry.” He said as he followed you, your eyes moving to the calendar on the fridge. Your hand writing catching your eye, you had written the correct time, you’d reminded him that morning as well. “Y/N/N?” He asked carefully and you spun on your heel to look at him.

“You’re an arsehole.” You stated simply and he let out a sigh as he nodded.

“I know. I swear I thought you said half seven, not seven.”

“You would still have been late.”

“I lost track of time.”

“Thought you got caught up?” You fired back and his face fell.

“Come on, I’m trying here.”

“Really hard, I noticed.” You spat out sarcastically and you saw the flash of confusion behind his eyes.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing, I’m just used to it at the minute.” You shrugged as you walked passed him again and up the stairs, Tom hot on your heels.

“What?”

“It doesn’t matter, go back and play with the boys, I’m sure that was how you wanted this evening to turn out.” You said, voice far more stern than you’d expected considering the heart ache and tears that were starting to take over at the situation.

“I’m confused here, I know I was late today but I feel like I’m missing something else.” He said as you walked into the bathroom.

“Just me.” You mumbled out in hopes he wouldn’t hear you but he did. Your hand moving to the shower to turn it on and let it warm up.

“What?” He asked, a hint of anger to his tone.

“Nothing, just leave me alone.” You snapped.

“I don’t want to, you’re obviously upset with me and I want to know what’s going on.” He said, arms crossed over his chest.

“Makes a change.” You spat at him and his face turned to one of anger, you were both growing more and more irritated with one another.

“You gonna tell me what you mean by that? Or are we gonna continue with the riddles?” He asked, voice stern. Although he knew he’d fucked up, he hated when you got into one of these moods when you were either too angry or too upset to be straight with him.

“Can you just leave me alone while I shower?” You asked and he huffed before making his way out of the bathroom and you slammed the door shut, locking it for good measure. You needed to get your thoughts straight, pull yourself together and allow yourself to cry, you’d wanted to all evening.

You took your dress off throwing it into the basket as you undressed and got into the shower, letting the warm water raise your temperature, the walk home had left you cold. You let the tears fall as you let the heart ache set in, a part of you wondered if he didn’t know he was doing it, but then wouldn’t he miss you too? Wouldn’t he miss the closeness you’d not had for a couple of weeks.

Another, more insecure part of you wondered if he’d met someone else, he hadn’t touched you in a good few weeks, not in that way. It was unusual for you not to be all over each other, not when he was home, so it left you wondering if he just wasn’t interested anymore. It wasn’t that you hadn’t tried, you had, wearing things around the house that usually got him going but recently his eyes would flick from the TV and then back to it. The tears fell faster at the thought, you loved him, god you loved him more than you could bare at times.

You finished up your shower as you tried to compose yourself, letting the anger set in because you couldn’t focus on the heart ache right now. You’d just cry in front of him and you didn’t want to do that right now. You got changed into your pajama pants, they felt strange to wear because you barely wore them, a hoody was pulled over your head as you placed your hands into the pocket.

You made your way back into the living room where Tom was, the TV still off which surprised you. Tom’s head snapped in your direction, his eyebrows raised at your attire, it was unusual for him to see you in pajama pants, you usually wore them when you were ill and trying to cling to any warmth that you could. You couldn’t shift your thoughts from your head, the thought that he just wasn’t attracted to you anymore.

“Tom,” you let out in an almost pleading way, the anger you wanted to hold onto slipping. His eyes found yours and softened at the clear sadness and heart break in them. He moved carefully from the couch, making his way over to you, standing in front of you as you found his feet suddenly interesting.

“Hey,” he said as he placed a hand under your chin and tilted your face to look at him. Your eyes were red and rimmed with tears threatening to spill. “Talk to me.” He almost pleaded, voice soft.

“I” you started before a sob choked your throat. “I miss you.” You said as you fell into his chest and cried into it, your hands fisting his shirt as your tears stained it. One of his hands found your back whilst the other found your hair, massaging your scalp slowly.

“I’m right here princess.” He said as he stroked your hair. Your anger rose at that, he had no idea how distant he’d been.

“You haven’t been.” You said sternly as you pushed back from his chest and took a step back, his hands falling from your frame.

“What? I’ve literally been home for a month.” He said, confusion evident.

“Not really, your precious boys have been more important than me.” You spat, that anger you wanted to hold onto was back and you didn’t want to let go of it.

“What do you mean?”

“Your fucking PlayStation Tom. Your golf dates with them. Your complete lack of any sort of interest in me.” You shouted at him and he huffed, his own anger taking over.

“I think you’re being a little dramatic. I’ve been here, I’ve been with you. I miss the boys too you know.” He said, voice colder than you was expecting.

“I get that, I do.” You acknowledged. “But you don’t come to bed with me anymore, in fact you come to bed when I’ve fallen asleep these days. You fail to tell me when you’re going to play golf with the boys, I find out in the morning when you’re already set to go. I asked you to give me your sole attention tonight and you couldn’t, the boys coming first.”

“I have apologized for tonight, I don’t know what more you want. I’m sorry if you feel like I’ve been prioritizing the boys, I haven’t meant to.” He said that coldness still in his voice.

“It’s not just that. You’re dismissive, if you’re not online with the boys you’re playing some shite and that takes all your attention.” You said, you’d created a distance between the two of you, your arms now folded across your chest, mirroring him.

“So you want attention?” He spat out.

“Don’t patronize me.” You spat back as you pointed a finger at him. “You don’t call me anything other than my name at the moment, the last couple of hours have been rare in the past couple of weeks. You haven’t touched me.” You said, anger faltering slightly in the last sentence.

“What are you talking about? That’s not true. Not touched you? I distinctly remember you straddling my lap the other day.” He shouted at you.

“To try and get your attention Tom.” You said, anger falling from your voice. “To try and get you to notice I’m still here. We didn’t exactly do anything, you didn’t even turn your fucking console off. Tom, you haven’t slept with me in almost three weeks.”

“You know, if you wanted me to come off my console, you could’ve asked.”

“I shouldn’t have to.” You said sadly and his face fell, the anger was disappearing for the both of you now.

“Look, I’m sorry…” He started as you interrupted him, a question that had the room falling to silence.

“Is there someone else?” You voiced your insecurity, your true fear of why he was so distant. He’d been back a month, you’d slept together once and he barely made time for you, what if he had found someone whilst he was away. You knew he hadn’t cheated, he wouldn’t, you knew that but that didn’t mean he couldn’t become attracted to someone that wasn’t you.

“I haven’t cheated on you.” He said softly after a while, stepping towards you carefully.

“That wasn’t what I asked.” You said as the tears started again, your hand that was wrapped in the sleeve of your hoody coming to wipe at your face. It wasn’t long before Tom’s hand encased it and pulled it from your face, his eyes finding your own, the heartbreak in them was so evident you regretted ever asking the question.

“Baby, no. There isn’t anyone else, not for me. I would never, I couldn’t, you’re perfect princess.” He spoke and it was so honest that it pushed that insecurity way into the back of your mind again. “I’m sorry.” He spoke, your hands in his as a tear made its way down his face.

“I just want your attention Tom. Not all the time, I understand you miss the boys, I do. But I miss you too Tom, I didn’t say anything because I thought tonight would fix everything but it just made it worse.” You spoke more to yourself than him. “I just feel like you haven’t missed me half as much as I’ve missed you.” You finished and with that you took your hands from his and made your way upstairs, leaving Tom with his own thoughts.

You went into the bedroom, closing and locking the door as you made your way into bed, pulling the covers over your frame as you cried into your pillow. It was almost half an hour later when you heard Tom try the door, you could almost imagine his face when he realised it was locked, this wasn’t something you’d done even in your worst shouting matches.

“Baby,” he called and you heard his forehead make contact with the wood of the door. “Can you open the door for me? I just wanna hold you, I’m so sorry.” You heard the sadness in his voice, the pure heart break with himself.

“Tom, I just wanna be on my own right now.” You said, it felt contradictory to the argument you’d had but you just wanted to be by yourself at the minute.

“Okay, you know where I am if you need me.” You heard him sigh as he disappeared. It took a while but eventually sleep took over.

**

You woke up to an alarm blaring and Tess barking furiously, it startled you awake as you bolted out of bed, unlocked the door and flew down the stairs. You had to stifle a laugh as you took in the sight in the kitchen, Tom was batting a tea towel across the fire alarm as Tess barked and ran in circles around his feet.

You quickly made your way over to the kitchen door, opening it as Tess shot out, you made your way to the window and opened those too. Tom looked at you with an embarrassed smile gracing his lips as the smoke made its way from the kitchen and outside.

“Sorry.” He said once the alarm had stopped blaring. You laughed as you looked around the kitchen, it looked as though a bomb had gone off.

“What were you doing?” You asked amused.

“Making you breakfast.” He said shyly as he bit his lip.

“That was never gonna be a good idea, unless it was cold.” You teased and he laughed, it was no secret he wasn’t the best cook in the house.

“I’m sorry, I was just, I don’t know.” He concluded as he watched you begin to clean the kitchen. “I didn’t mean to wake you up so abruptly either.”

“It’s okay.” Your heart warmed, you know what he was trying to do and it felt like a small step in the right direction. “I know what you were trying to do.” You said as you made your way in front of him and kissed his cheek. “I appreciate it.” The atmosphere was way better than last night but there was still a sadness in the air.

“You locked me out.” Tom said, voice laced in nothing other than sadness, you felt guilty but you needed to be alone last night.

“I know, I’m sorry. I just, I needed to be alone.” You said, hand on his cheek as you swiped your thumb over it. He nodded, his hand finding your hip as he squeezed it slightly.

“I get it. I’m sorry.” He said as he carefully leant forward and caught your lips in his own, you smiled into the kiss, it felt nice to have everything out in the open, a weight lifted. “I love you.” He murmured as he pulled back, forehead resting against your own.

“I love you.” You smiled before taking a deep breath and looking around the kitchen, lightly patting his cheek with your hand. “We should clean this place up.” You laughed and he nodded.

**

Almost twenty minutes later and the kitchen looked normal again, your laughs filling the kitchen as you tried to work out how he’d done half of the things he’d done.

“Do you wanna go and grab something instead? I don’t think I should try cooking again.” Tom teased and you grinned.

“I’d love to.” You said as you made your way back upstairs to get changed, Tom joining you.

“I’m sorry.” He said and you looked at him, ready to respond before his phone rang. “Hey mate.” Tom said as he placed the phone against his ear, you busied yourself with fixing your hair. “Not today.” He said, you knew he was talking to one of the boys and your heart hammered in your chest, was he gonna ditch you for them again? “Taking Y/N/N out.” He said, happiness lacing his tone. “Maybe mate, I’ll see what she wants to do.” He said, phone between his ear and shoulder as he fixed his belt.

“Been a bit of a shit boyfriend recently.” Tom said and you heard the laugh that filled the speakers, Harrison. “Shh.” You suddenly heard Tom interrupt his friend, “she’s literally right here.” He said and you felt your chest tighten, what could Harrison have to say that you couldn’t maybe overhear? “I will, cheers mate, bye.” Tom said as he put the phone down and placed it in his pocket, you shook your thoughts away as your eyes met his in the mirror. “Ready?”

“Yeah.” You said as he held his hand out for you and you took it as he interlaced your fingers.

You made your way towards your local café, a place you absolutely loved and Tom found endearing, a lovely old lady ran it and it was cheap and cheerful. A stark contrast to the usual places you and Tom would eat, but you loved it here.

“Y/N.” Mary said as you both walked through the door, a warm smile on her face. “You brought Tom too, I feel underdressed for an A-list celebrity to be here.” She said and you giggled.

“You know he doesn’t care.” You said as you hugged her, she was like a grandmother to almost everyone who stepped through the door.

“Thank you by the way, my grandson was over the moon when I took him your autograph.” She said to Tom who smiled, a small blush creeping up his cheeks, he may have been famous but he was forever humble.

You ate your usual and drank your coffee as Tom focused his attention on making you laugh. It worked as he placed some icing sugar on your nose that was on the tip of his finger. You shook your head as you wiped your nose with a laugh. You’d really missed him over the last couple of weeks and you couldn’t be more thankful you’d finally said something last night.

“Tom, I’ve told you before, you don’t need to tip me so much.” Mary said as she watched Tom place a ten-pound note in her tip jar.

“The service was exceptional as always.” Tom shrugged as he placed a kiss to her cheek in goodbye. He used to tip a lot more but Mary had in return started not charging for the two of you to come in, the ten-pound tip seemed like the most she’d accept without throwing in freebies.

“You are a charmer Mr Holland.” She smiled as she hugged you.

“Is he?” You teased and Mary laughed.

“He is, however, he’s lucky to have you.” She smiled as she pinched your cheek. “About time he got down on one knee.” Mary teased and you saw Tom tense slightly, your heart sinking at his reaction, was that not something he wanted?

“Don’t scare the poor boy.” You teased, trying to lighten the mood in your heart.

“Not scared.” Tom said with a smile as he took your hand in his and laced your fingers together.

**

You had an amazing day, went for a walk and talked to each other, it felt nice, normal. You still had a heavy feeling in your heart, thoughts of what Harrison had said that had caused him to quieten him so quickly invading your mind. You tried your best to shrug it off, it could be anything, your insecurities getting the better of you. You were cuddling on the couch watching a film when he suddenly got up.

“Where are you going?” You asked.

“I’ll be back in a minute.” He waved off as he made his way out of the room.

It wasn’t long before he placed himself next to you, envelope in his hand. You furrowed your brows as he handed it to you.

“I know I’m a few days early but here.” He said and you opened the envelope, pulling out two tickets to the Maldives.

“Tom, what?”

“Happy birthday.” He said as he kissed your cheek and you smiled, looking at the date on your ticket, you were set to go on your birthday, a ridiculously early flight time stamped on the ticket. “I know how much you love it there and I wanted to get you something nice.” Tom said and you smiled at him.

“Nice is a bottle of perfume. Tom, this is so expensive.” You scalded and he laughed as he pulled you into his chest.

“Nothing’s too expensive when it comes to you.”

“You cheesy fucker.” You laughed as you kissed his t shirt covered chest. “Thank you. Is that the surprise Harrison wasn’t supposed to ruin?” You asked and Tom laughed.

“Yeah.” Tom lied through his teeth, the actual surprise was currently in his office drawer. The black box hidden beneath scripts he’d been reading over. He was glad that you hadn’t asked about his golf trip last week, it was never a golf trip in the first place, he’d gone to your parents to ask permission, Harry promising to cover if you asked if they’d been together.

**

“It’s gorgeous.” You said as you sat on the decking outside your hut, feet in the clear water below. Tom sat next to you, taking your hand in his.

“Yeah, it is.” He agreed as he played with your fingers. “That’s why I was so caught up with the boys, I wanted to make sure this trip was perfect, we were running through ideas.” Tom suddenly said and you turned to look at him.

“How much planning can one holiday take?” You teased and he shrugged as he placed a kiss to the back of your hand.

“You know me.” He said and you laughed. “The lack of sex though, there was no excuse for that, I’m sorry. My mind was elsewhere.” He said with a small smile and you placed your free hand on his chest as you laid your head on his shoulder.

“It’s okay, you’ve made up for that.” You bit your lip, your legs still aching from the activities that had taken place no less than ten minutes ago. Your thighs, neck and chest covered in marks he’d left, you bit your lip thinking about it as you removed your hand from his chest and traced the marks on your thighs.

“I suppose I should let you in on a little secret.” He said and you furrowed your brows looking up at him. He smiled before standing and bringing you with him. “I’ve been distant because I’ve been planning something.” He said, both of your hands in his. You gasped as he got down on one knee in front of you. “I wanted it to be perfect.” He said as he fished around in his pocket. He pulled the black box from them.

“Tom.” You gasped, heart soaring, you were at a loss for words.

“When you asked me the other day if there was someone else, I was so heart broken. Princess, I’m sorry, I’ve been so stressed about asking you this question, so scared I’ll get it wrong that it sort of took over. I love you more than anything, you are the only woman I’m interested in, I’ve never in my life felt more at home than I do when I’m with you. I have never met someone who understands me the way you do, who’s as supportive as you are. I want to give you everything you deserve and more, I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Y/N L/N, will you do me the honour of becoming my wife?” He asked and you were both crying, both letting happiness consume you as he opened the box.

The ring was the most beautiful thing you’d ever seen, it was all too much, the happiness you felt was too much and you fell onto your knees in front of him, hands grasping his back as you pulled him into you. Head finding his shoulder as you cried into it. He held you close as he too cried into your hair.

You pulled back after a while, looking into his eyes and you swear you couldn’t be happier. That’s what Harrison had mentioned that he didn’t want you to hear, that’s why he tensed in the café, he was probably worrying you’d mention you didn’t want that.

“You gonna keep me hanging?” Tom asked as he wiped at your eyes. It dawned on you that you hadn’t given him an answer.

“Of course I’ll marry you.” You said and he released a breath he’d clearly been holding. He took the ring and slipped it onto your finger, the sun catching it and making it sparkle in the most brilliant way.

He lifted you both to your feet, hand finding your cheek as he pulled you in for a kiss, your hand slipping into his hair as your other held his bicep. He deepened this kiss as he slipped his hand to cup your neck, his other finding the curve of your bum as he squeezed. You giggled as you pulled back slightly.

“Wanna go for a swim?” You asked and he raised a brow.

“Right now?”

“Yeah.” You shrugged and he laughed.

“Okay darling.” He said as he stepped back slightly, he was so close to the edge of the decking that you couldn’t help it. You bit your lip mischievously as you placed your hands on his chest, he looked down at you and his eyes widened, he was too late to act as you pushed against his chest. He lost balance but not before grasping your hands which meant you fell with him, both your bodies hitting the water which made for a large and loud splash.

You both resurfaced, your body gravitating towards his own as you wrapped your legs around his waist, arms loosely hanging from his shoulders. His hands finding your thighs, your hands making their way into his now wet hair, he smiled up at you and pulled you in for a kiss.

“I love you.” You both said in unison, pure happiness filling both of your hearts.

[words-for-holland]

Always Yours

Pairing: Tom Holland x Reader

Summary: Sometimes dating a celebrity is hard...but Tom & Y/N have always said no matter what happens they could get through anything. Some angst but a lot of fluff.

A/N: So sorry for leaving yall hanging! Life is just crazy right now and this blog needs a lot of TLC tbh!! Also ehh I def dont think this was my best work but enjoy?

“Oof” Y/N lets out as she plops on to her boyfriend who was lying comfortable on the couch. Tom groaned at the impact with a cheeky smile on his face, his arms instantly wrapping around Y/N’s frame.

“Y’know..there are empty seats right there.” The soft brown-eyed boy gestured with the flick of his thick head as Y/N raises her eyes looking down at him, pretending to be slightly offended.

“Oh I see how it is then. It’s cool...Ill just cuddle with Tessa instead. I know she would welcome me with open arms instead of—” As she slowly starts getting off his chest, Tom is quick to pull her back in, securing her with his strong arms. “No baby, I was just kidding. I want you right here, and Im never letting you go.” he pleas.

The only thing Y/N could manage was letting out a fit of giggles into his chest, a sound that Tom adored and would do absolutely anything to hear every minute of every day. They stay like this for a while enjoying the feeling of each other as they both run their hands into each others hair, the feeling of their chests moving up and down, the subtle thumps of their heartbeats, and the little slips of adoration that came out of their mouths. It was peaceful. A moment that nobody could really take a way because it was theirs.

Y/N casually pulls up her phone, and scrolls through Twitter when she noticed a particular tweet on her timeline. Her eyebrows furrow, as she read the 160 character message.

Why Tom Holland Should Be With Aaliyah Cole and Dump Y/N: A Thread.

She knew it wasnt a good idea to open up the thread. She knew very well that everything within the shallow string of tweets would be a complete waste of her time because it was made up by fans who just wanted to satisfy their fantasy of shipping Tom with his co-star. Who can blame them? They always had great chemistry, but it was part of the job and thats all it would ever be.

“You’re awfully quiet.” Tom murmurs, as he places soft kisses at the crown of her head. “Whats going on?” She was lucky her phone was facing away from Tom, quickly closing the app and pretending to be on one of her many tabs in Safari.

“Mmm..nothing.” Y/N lies softly, a tight-lipped smiled plastered on her face.

“Absolute bullocks. Youre not a very good liar.” He chuckles. “Tell me darling. Whats on your mind?”

Y/N rolls her eyes in response. She’s heard that comment one too many times in her life from everyone shes known. After not giving it much thought, she gives in, sighing heavily. “Dont judge me for what Im about to say.”

“Mmm...I think it might depend on wha— Ow” Tom reacts as he playfully rubs the side of his chest that Y/N hit. “Okay too soon for jokes. Go on.”

Again, Y/N sighs as she props herself up. “Its just ... well a lot of your fans keeps talking about wanting you to get with Aaliyah.” She looks down trying not to make eye contact with Tom, who she’d imagine was looking at her with annoyance.

Tom rolls his eyes at the ridiculousness. Not so much at Y/N but the fact that some of his fans just didnt want to accept the fact that he was happy with Y/N. If it had to come from his mouth to stop the stupid rumors and give his girlfriend peace, then hed gladly yell it from the rooftops for everyone to hear. “Thats it Im making a statement about it.”

Y/N’s eyes widen in fear, scrambling to prevent him from grabbing his phone on the table next him. “No no no no.” She repeatedly declines. “You’ll only make it worse.”

“Darling, Im not going to stand here and watch you get all insecure because of their delusional ship.”

“Yeah well Im not gonna be the reason your fans hate me because Im getting in the way of your friendship with Aaliyah Cole.” She fires back.

Tom was ready to open his mouth only to be cut off once again. “And you know better. That is how your fans will always see it.”

“Okay, are you done?” He calmly asked, cautiously observing her. Rarely did Y/N ever get worked up about anything, but when she had her tangents, Tom always made sure she got off everything she needed to say before he becomes her voice of reason.

“Yeah, I guess.” she says feeling defeated. “Look its whatever and Im tired, can we just let this go and forget this whole conversation even happened?”

Tom was unconvinced, but didnt want to push her further. So reluctantly, he gave in and wrapped his arms around Y/N as they both tried to lull themselves to sleep.

***

Y/N wasnt sure how she ended up in the Tube. It was strange how the lights flickered off the rusted tile floor. The train was no where to be seen, but off to the side of the railroads was pitch black, she could hardly see beyond. To her right she noticed herself standing in the corner of the room, and to her surprise Aaliyah was there. Her milk chocolate kissed skin, and fashionably long frizzy hair dropped down past her shoulders. Her figure long and poised, as she wore a rain jacket and sweats. An outfit only she could pull off and make it look like she was a model for Vogue. Aasliyah smiles brightly at Y/N.

“Hey Y/N.” She says cheerfully as a genuine friend would.

To Y/N’s surprise she greeted her back in the same tone. “Hey Aaliyah...uhh whats going on?” Y/N wasnt sure if she wanted the answer of how they both ended up in the Tube or if she truly wanted to know how her day went.

“Well Im getting ready to present at the Oscars.” She replies, a smile plastered as if she was so excited about it, almost too excited like she was keeping a secret.

“Really? Oh my god, that’s amazing! Im so proud of you Aaliyah! Who are you taking?”

Aaliyah pauses for a few moment looking back and forth, making sure no one else was around. “Okay can you keep a secret?” She whispered.

Y/N nods her head slowly, not having the slightest clue of what was going on. “Im taking Tom. I think he really likes me, and well...I like him too! Do you think maybe I should ask him when we go?” Aaliyah asked genuinely. It was almost like she had no recollection of Y/N and Tom being a couple. “I think we would look good together. Everyone is already making rumors and ships about us.”

Y/N backs aways lowly only to bump into a broad figure. As she turns around she sees Tom, emotionless and almost sad. “Y/N.” He speaks out. “I dont think this is going to work out. Im leaving you.”

Y/N’s heart quickens, and her breaths become shorter as she tries to find a way to run. Running and running into the darkness, until all she could hear was Tom’s faint voice calling out her name.

***

“Y/N! Y/N! Baby wake up please.” Tom cries as he gently shakes his girlfriend from her disturbed sleep.

Quickly Y/N opens her eyes and clutches on to Toms hoodie firmly. Back home, and in Toms arms. It was a dream was all she thought. A sigh of relief escaping from her mouth.

“Darling...” he speaks softly, worried about his girlfriend. “Are you okay?”

Y/N looks up at him and nods frantically. “Mmm..bad dream.”

“Yeah it seemed like it. You were so frightened...I was scared. What happened?” He’s looking at her, trying to read her saddened eyes, wanting to desperately understand what scared her so he could make it all go away for her.

Y/N looks down at her fiddling hands, as she sits on the couch. “I uhh...” she lets out a chuckle, thinking of the ridiculousness of it all. “I uhh...dreamed about Aaliyah going to the oscars and saying how she loved you and how you two are perfect for each other. When I turned around I saw you but you werent happy and said you were leaving me.”

Tom doesnt say a word, all he could think about was how sorry he felt to put Y/N in this position. Though both of them knew, It wasnt Toms fault, or anyone’s for that matter. Feelings are feelings and that was okay. No human being was ever born perfect and without insecurities.

Y/N always tried to be a good sport with situations like this knowing every shippers theory and evidence were hardly ever true, but at some point there was only so much she could take before it all came out like an oil spill. Maybe it was a sign that she wasnt good enough to be with Tom if half of his fanbase thought this way as well.

Tom cradled her into his arms again, holding her tightly and kissing the top of her head. “Darling, I know youre still doubting yourself about all of this, but please believe me when I tell you that I love you so so much and no matter what happens...Im always yours.” He whispers gently in her ear. “It was only a dream and these ridiculous rumors and theories are just that. No one woman in the world could ever make me feel the way I feel for you.”

Y/N blinks softly, as she stares into space. Afraid and in a weird way ashamed, its funny how something so small and so minimal could affect her self-esteem so greatly. Tom gently brings her head up, so her eyes can meet his. He rolls his thumb on the bottom of her soft lips. “Hey, I love you.” Tom smiles.

Time stopped for the both of them the moment Y/N looked into his eyes, she felt safe. All the bad words and thoughts slowly disappear. Tom was right, none of the things that anyone said about their relationship mattered. She knew Tom loved her, and how much she truly loved him. Isnt that enough? Of course not. It was more than enough. A smile slowly forming on Y/N’s face. “Theres that smile I love so much.” He comments.

“Im sorry, for being such a —”

“No. Its okay. You have a right to feel the way you did.” He picks up her hand and leaves a gentle kiss.

“I love you so much Tom.” She says pressing her lips to his. “I dont deserve you.”

“Darling, its me that doesnt deserve you. Im always yours.” Tom proclaims as he kisses her back.

[onlyfreds]

I Told You to Behave | F.W.

Title: I Told You to Behave

Requested: Yes/No

Summary: We all know that Fred has trouble behaving

A/N: A huge thank you to Holly for sending me the prompt that inspired this fic! I had so much fun writing this and I hope that I did this justice.

As soon as I wrote down the concluding sentence of my essay, I threw my quill on the table as I leaned back on my chair, breathing a sigh of relief.

I then heard a small knock on the dorm room door, thinking it was one of my roommates I immediately answered, “Come in!”

But, instead of Angelina or Katie or Alicia, the person who came in was none other than my handsome, lovable, sweet, caring (and did I mention handsome?) boyfriend, Frederick Gideon Weasley.

I smiled, my mood immediately being uplifted, while I lazily pushed my chair away from the table, standing up and walking over to him as I wrapped my arms around his torso and breathed in his scent.

“Hey darling.” He cooed with a small smile, combing his fingers through my hair.

“What have you been up to?” He asked.

I looked up at him, “Just finished that 12-foot essay for Transfiguration.”

“How about you?” I then asked, “What brings you here?”

He raised a brow, “What brings you here? She asks. I missed you. Isn’t that obvious? Why else would I be here?”

I shrugged, giving him a small smile, “Dunno, maybe you need something from me?”

Fred gasped as he placed a hand over his heart, feigning offence, “How could accuse me of such a deed?! Honestly woman, you call yourself my girlfriend.”

I laughed, pressing a small kiss on his lips, “I’m just joking love. Besides, I know how clingy you could be.”

“Hey!” He protested, “You’re clingier.”

I stuck his tongue out at him, “Am not.”

“Yes, you are.”

“I’m not.”

“You are.”

“Am not.”

Fred rolled his eyes, knowing that I wouldn’t back down because of how stubborn I could get. He crashed our lips together, causing me to stumble back slightly from the force of the kiss.

He sunk his teeth on my bottom lip, nibbling it gently, causing me to moan softly against his mouth.

He placed a hand at the back of my head while I rested my hands on his chest. While he deepened the kiss we slowly walked backwards until my back hit the wall.

The two of us pulled apart, breathless and the temperature of the room rising up by a few degrees.

I looked up at him, feeling my cheeks being painted a tint of pink, “Is that your way of telling me to shut up?”

He grinned sheepishly, “Maybe?”

I giggled, “Then maybe you should shut me up more often.”

Fred smirked, leaning closer that I could practically feel his breath fanning over my face, “What if I shut you up now?”

I bit my lip, feigning innocence, “What’s stopping you?”

My boyfriend was about to reconnect our lips, when a knock on the door caused him to jump slightly.

“Oi Fred!” The familiar voice of his twin could be heard from the other side of the door, “Are you in there?”

Fred muttered something about wrong timing as he answered, “I’m kinda busy at the moment.”

“Well, now’s not the time to be making babies.” His twin retorted, “This product needs your immediate attention. Emphasis on immediate.”

“Why don’t attend to it?” Fred asked, rolling his eyes.

“I have a date with Angelina you oaf! Now, stop your baby-making, get your arse here and fix this.”

“Fine.” Fred huffed as he opened the door and took the box from George.

I sat down on the edge of my bed while Fred sat down on the floor and starting to figure out what was wrong.

“So much for the mood.” I said with a small laugh, moving to sit down in front of him.

“This fever fudge has been on trial for weeks.” He groaned, looking over the ingredients of the product again.

“What’s wrong with it?” I asked, resting my chin on the open palm of my hand.

He frustratingly ran a hand through his hair, making it even messier, “It malfunctions. Once you eat it, your temperature will rise up to 40 degrees. Then within mere minutes it’ll go back down to your normal temperature even without the cure.”

I reached out my hand, “Can I see the list?”

He nodded, handing me the piece of parchment as I read over the messy, but thankfully eligible, handwriting.

“That’s why.” I muttered once I’ve finished reading the whole list.

“What is it? What’s wrong?” Fred asked as I handed it back to him.

“You’re missing an ingredient.” I explained, “That’s why it malfunctions.”

“What ingredient?” He asked.

I shrugged, “Just a mandrake leaf. Though, I’ve run out of stock. I’ll go ask Hermione if she has some.”

We then started making the potion again, now all we needed was the mandrake leaf.

I walked towards the door and before leaving to Hermione’s dorm, I warned my boyfriend, “Whatever you do. Don’t add anything else to the potion. You behave until I get back with the mandrake leaf.”

Fred nodded, giving a mock salute, “Yes Ma’am!”

I playfully rolled my eyes at him before shutting the door behind me.

(Fred’s POV)

As soon as the door closed, I looked back down at the parchment in my hand, double checking the whole process to make sure that we did it right.

I took a glance at the bubbling potion that was sitting in the cauldron, that’s strange. If I wasn’t mistaken the potion had to be orange, not purple.

I went over the list again and thought that we’ve must’ve added a little less unicorn horn powder than required

Unscrewing the jar, I was about to add a dash of the powder when I stopped in my tracks remembered what my girlfriend told me.

“Whatever you do. Don’t add anything else to the potion. You behave until I get back with the mandrake leaf.”

I hesitated, the ladle hovering above the cauldron.

She did say that I should wait for her, but I’m pretty sure that nothing will go wrong if I just add a dash, right?

Right?

I sighed, quickly tipping over the ladle, watching the powder drop into the potion.

I waited a minute, but nothing seemed to happen.

At that moment, I realized that I should’ve listened.

Fireworks started to explode from the potion, bouncing off the walls and knocking stuff over.

Once the fireworks disappeared, the room was a mess. I mean a literal mess.

Before I could think of a solution to make it look like that nothing happened, I saw the door knob turn.

She was back. I was dead.

(Reader’s POV)

“Thanks Hermione!” I called after the girl as she headed down to Ron and Harry.

I then opened the door to my dorm, only to see a wreck in front of me and my boyfriend with the look of a guilty puppy.

“What in the name of Godric Gryffindor happened here Freddie?” I asked, staring at him agape.

He gave a shy smile, “I may have added a dash of unicorn horn powder to the potion.”

I glared at him as I took out my wand and waved it, the room cleaning itself up, “What did I say?”

He seemed to cower a bit, “You told me to behave.”

I crossed my arms over my chest, “And what did you do?”

Fred gave a small, innocent smile, “The exact opposite.”

I sighed, suddenly remembering my Transfiguration essay and rushing immediately towards the table. I let out a sigh of relief, seeing that the essay was perfectly fine. I tucked it away in my bag before any damage could be made.

I was aware of Fred staring at me with big doe eyes, silently begging me to forgive him.

I gave him the silent treatment, fixing up the rest of the stuff until the room was back to its natural glory.

I suddenly felt a pair of arms wrap around my waist, breathing in Fred’s scent as he rested his cheek on my shoulder, his hair tickling my ear.

I looked at him, once again seeing those big doe eyes.

“I’m sorry.” He said, almost in a whisper, “I should’ve listened to you.”

I licked my lips, “You’re lucky the essay I worked on for three hours didn’t get ruined.”

Fred’s eyes lighted up, “Do you forgive me?”

I playfully rolled my eyes at him, “I’m talking to you now, aren’t I?”

He chuckled, pressing a kiss to my cheek, “See? You can’t stay mad at me for long?”

I raised a brow at him, “You want to test that theory out?”

His eyes widened, shaking his head vigorously, “No thanks.”

𝚃𝚊𝚐𝚕𝚒𝚜𝚝:

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[chaos-writes-fanfiction]

I’ll always love you

Pairings: Oikawa × Fem!reader (established relationship)

Warnings: angst to fluff, heart break, (fluff ending)

You and Oikawa have been dating for over a year and a half. Hes recently recovered from a knee injury and even though hes promised that he’ll take it easy. You know he won’t.

So one night after school you are waiting for him to go home. When the most of the team had already left nearly thirty minutes ago. You walk in and see your boyfriend and Iwaizumi.

“Toru!” You scold seeing him still practicing

He freezes hearing you and walks over.

“Hey cutie” he said “you’re still here?”

“Yes you were supposed to walk me home” she said “and the rest of the team left almost a half hour ago”

“Well you se-” he started

“Enough, you just recovered from your last knee injury” you said “you promised me that you would take it easy so you wouldn’t hurt yourself again, but here you are doing extra practice”

“But I am” he said

“No you’re not Toru, if you were you would be home” you said “I know you love volleyball, but I can’t sit by and watch you get hurt again”

“Wait baby, you don’t mean that” he said

“But I do Toru, I can’t sit by and watch you do this to yourself” you said “so tomorrow, I need you to come to my house and I’ll give you, your stuff back”

“But I love you so much” he said tearing up “I dont want this I dont want to break up”

You kiss him on the cheek before taking off his volleyball jacket and giving it back to him. After that you run out tears falling down your face. When you get home you start putting all of his things into a box, his clothes you had been given and that you had stolen. Some of the gifts he had given you. You touch the necklace around your neck, it had been your one year anniversary gift from him, it was a small pendant with a circle charm that had his first name initial ’T’ stamped into the metal. Taking off the necklace. You give it a kiss before putting it in your jewelry box, not having the heart to give it back to him. Its not that you didnt love him anymore, quite the opposite. You loved him too much that you couldn’t bare to watch him hurt himself. You take down all of the pictures and random polaroids from your room putting them safely in your desk. You end up crawling into bed and cry yourself to sleep. In the morning your eyes are red and slightly puffy from crying.

You hear a knock on your bedroom door. That pulls you out of bed.

“Come in” you said pulling your hair out of your face and tying it back

The door opens and you see Toru and he doesn’t look like himself, his hair is a mess, his eyes are red but hes not looking at you.

“You told me to come get my things” he said his voice sounding rough.

“I did” you said standing up and picking up the box from your desk

“This it?” He asked

“That should be everything, if I forgot something I’ll return it” you said

“I’ll let Iwa know, I wont be coming back here” he said “he can get whatever it is left”

“Right” you said nodding.

You looked at him holding the box. Your body itched with the need to throw yourself into his arms and not have it end like this. But you couldn’t bring yourself to do it. You watch him turn and leave. You end up spending the weekend alone in your room, thinking about your decision to end things. On Monday morning before school you decided to go on a morning run and while on your run you see most of the boys volleyball club running.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi said slowing to run over to you.

“Hey” you said stopping

“You okay?” He asked

“Not really” you said

“Wanna talk about it?” He asked

“No, not right now, maybe later” you said

“I’m here if you need me” he said “I’ve got to catch up but I’ll see you in class”

You sighed a little bit and headed back home to get ready for school; you really didnt want to go knowing that once word got out about the break up you’d get harassed and bombarded with questions. Not just from his fans but nearly everyone, and they all knew you had been dating not exactly easy to hide a relationship with him being as popular as he is.

You unwillingly walk to school trying to make it appear as though nothing had happened. Instead of meeting Toru at his home room and staying until it was time to get to your own. You go straight to your own and lay your head down on your desk, covering your head with your arms. When suddenly there was a light tap on your shoulder.

“Yeah?” You asked lifting your head up to see one of his fan girls

“Is it true?” She asked looking at you

“Is what true?” You asked

“That you broke up with Oikawa?” She asked

You look down “yeah, we broke up” you said

“If you still care about him, please consider getting back with him” she said

“What?” You asked your head snapping back up

“They had a practice game on Sunday and like I watched like I normally do” she said “I’d never seen him play the way he did that day”

“How do you mean?” You asked

“He couldn’t focus and his normally powerful serves were weak barely making it over the net and his sets were a mess” she said

“Did he really play that badly?” You asked

“Yes he did” Iwaizumi said from behind you

“Oh God” you said turning and looking at him

“He misses you” he said “a lot”

“Iwa, I didnt brake up with because I stopped loving him” you said

“I know” he said “just think about it”

Almost a week has passed its Saturdag and you were at the mall when you see a Takeru, Oikawas nephew he seemed to be lost.

“Takeru?” You asked approaching him

“Y-yeah?” He asked

“Do you remember me?” You asked

“You’re the girl dating Toru” he said

“That’s right, did you get lost?” You asked

“Yeah the crowd got really big and I got lost” he said

“Take my hand so you dont get lost again” you said holding out your hand

“Okay” he said taking your hand

“Who were you with when you got lost?” You asked

“Toru” he said “can we get ice cream?”

“Sure thing, let’s go to the ice cream shop and I’ll call him” you said

He nodded and you started walking with him to the ice cream shop. When you pulled out your phone and called Oikawa to your surprise he answered.

“Now’s not a good time” he said his voice a little panicked

“I have Takeru” you said

“You do? Oh thank goodness” He said relieved

“I found him at the mall, said he got lost in a crowd” you said

“Yeah…” he said “where are you?”

“I’m taking him to get ice cream, I can take him back to your house afterwards” you said

“Its okay I can come get him, I’ll meet you at the ice cream shop, I’ll be right there” he said and he hung up.

You get to the shop and its empty besides the people working. You get an ice cream cone for Takeru and yourself. You both take a seat at one of the little tables and eat your ice cream while waiting for Toru.

“Are you sad?” Takeru asked

“Hmm? No I’m fine” you said “just stressed with school stuff”

“But that’s not really it is it?” Oikawa asked

“That’s part of it” you said looking up at him

“Thank you for finding him and calling me” he said

“Of course, take care boys” you stand to leave

“Wait” Takeru said taking your hand “can you walk back with us?”

“Taker-” Oikawa starts

“Its, fine I can walk with you back to the house” you said “that’s okay right?”

Oikawa just nodded. Takeru finished his ice cream and wiped his hands with a wet wipe then took your hand.

“Let’s go come on” Takeru said pulling you towards the door

You follow him throwing away your napkin after finishing your ice cream. Once out of the mall you swing his hand that’s still holding yours, as he talks to you about school and his friends. Oikawa watches you smile and talk to his nephew. His heart hurt, he wanted to take your hand in his and kiss you. But you weren’t his anymore and he couldn’t do that.

You get to Oikawas house only to realize that he was yet again missing. Thankfully you had Takeru which is was the important thing. You knock on the door and his mom answered the door.

“Oh darling what are you doing?” She asked you

“I found Takeru at the mall he got lost, so I took him for ice cream and we met back up with Toru, and on our way here he disappeared again” you said

“Thank you again for the ice cream” Takeru said releasing your hand

He took off his shoes and walked further into the house.

“Thank you for making sure he was safe” she said “Would you like to come in for some tea?”

“Oh I dont want to intrude” you said

“Please I insist darling” she said

You walk in and take off your shoes and follow her into the kitchen.

“I know it must not have been easy spending time with Toru and Takeru, since I know you’re no longer dating my son” she said

“Not really, but Takeru insisted, and I’ve never been good at telling him no” you said

“Do you want to talk about the break up?” She asked handing you a cup of tea

“A little yeah” you said taking a sip. “I still love him so much, but he’s just recovered from hurting his knee and I found him over working himself after he promised me that he would take it easy”

She nodded and listened placing one of her hands on yours

“I dont want to see him hurt again, because I know how much volleyball means to him, and if he keeps getting hurt he’ll have to stop playing” you said “I just want him to take better care of himself…”

“He went through the box you gave him, and he was surprised that the necklace he gave you wasn’t there” she said

“I know, I kept it” you said and pulled the chain from under your shirt “I’m still wearing it”

“Why?” Oikawa asked you hadn’t heard him come in.

You turn to look at him on the verge of tears.

“Because I’m still in love with you Toru, that’s never changed” you said

“You broke up with me” he said

“Because I don’t want you getting injured again or to the point where you have to stop playing volleyball” you said “I know now how much it means to you, but you have to stop over working yourself”

“I was only staying late that one night because I had missed practice for two months” he said “I know Iwa and a few of my fans have talked to you”

“They have” you said

“So you heard about the pitiful practice game?” He asked

“Yes” you said

“You still love me, you said it your self right?” He asked

“Yes, I do” you said

“Then take me back, cutie, I love you so much” he said “I’ll take care of myself so I don’t get hurt, I’ll do anything I just need you back”

He had tears falling down his cheeks. You gently cup his cheeks and wipe his tears, bringing him down into a gentle kiss. He wrapped his arms around your waist pulling you close before slowly pulling away resting his forehead against yours.

“I’m taking that as a yes” he said

“It is a yes” you tease him

“Good” he said and he looked at his mom

“She can stay the night, I’ll call her mom” she said

“Thank you” you said

Oikawa led you to his room and laid down on his bed pulling you with him. The night was spent with cuddles, kisses and whispered ‘I love you’s. The next Monday at school things were back to normal walking to school with him attached at the hip when his team found out they were happy to have their captain back to his normal self.

[tossawary]

Chapter 26 “ What You Want” of “pride is not the word I’m looking for” quotes and commentary. Not a full list of favorite quotes or full commentary.

Oh, this got so long, though. I was like, “An opportunity to wax poetic about Moshang dynamics and characterization? An opportunity to talk about why my interpretations of Mobei-Jun and Shang Qinghua are Like That? SIGN ME UP.” 

-

【Beginning next mission stage.】

【Death of the Author - Part 2: The Secret Basement of Shang Qinghua.】  

【Mission objective: place the Weeper’s Eye on the pedestal.】

Shang Qinghua slowly sits up on his sofa. He stares at the pop-up window for however long it takes his brain to roll over completely.

“I don’t have a fucking basement?” he says finally.

- 

AN: I have been waiting to use “I don’t have a fucking basement?” for months. Also, it’s been years for him, so Shang Qinghua is a little oblivious, BUT I would like to point readers all the way back to some paragraphs from Chapter 2. 

Excerpt from Chapter 2: “A Horseshoe Nail”:  

Shang Qinghua considers the point loss. What are his excuses character motivations here? Why is his unmerciful System not completely skewering him for this?

He is the servant of a demon lord, Mobei-Jun, the future Northern King, so he has a greater investment than most cultivators in the future of the Demon Realm, so it’s not unreasonable for him to seek out any bastards of Tianlang-Jun without handing the demon baby over to a righteous sect. He’s also a Peak Lord of Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, so it’s not unreasonable for him to be interested in any rumors of the whereabouts of Su Xiyan or what happened to her, for political leverage or whatever. The character of Shang Qinghua originally was and still is a spy - on top of being a shameless coward willing to cling to anyone’s thighs and then stab them in the back, in order to stay alive or advance himself.

There are plenty of magical artifacts in this world that might give a power-grubbing weakling like Shang Qinghua an insight into the future. As Peak Lord of An Ding, Shang Qinghua is, in fact, in a pretty good place to get his greedy hands on one of these magical artifacts. Isn’t that what a good spy and overall ambitious snake would do?

 Especially a spy serving a demon lord extremely likely to get fed up with him and kill him at some point? While also serving a righteous cultivation sect extremely likely to execute him for eventually betraying them? Of course Shang Qinghua would obviously want to know how to save his own ass from these ticking time-bombs! And how better to save his own ass than shamelessly clinging to the golden thighs of the protagonist, who will one day conquer every other demon lord and all righteous sects?

Following Luo Binghe means being on the endgame winning team!

Shang Qinghua looks over the pop-up window’s numbers over again, in regards to the loss of points. True, how exactly he tracked down Su Xiyan’s half-demon baby when the Huan Hua Palace Master failed is a bit of a plot-hole, but the rest can be easily explained away with a bit of creativity!

Oh, the rest of the cultivation world didn’t know Su Xiyan was pregnant? Well, Shang Qinghua is a slimy, sneaky spy, who would of course guess that a female cultivator might suddenly disappear like that for months-on-end due to a secret pregnancy! And given that Su Xiyan’s reputation had been linked to a passionately self-destructive Tianlang-Jun… Okay, he can feel the anti-fan rage at that mildly sexist line of thinking, but it stands! It stands!

Now, Shang Qinghua just has to… actually decide… whether or not he wants to take the point loss, in order to save the life of his protagonist son’s adoptive mother, Luo Jiahui. 

Shang Qinghua, my darling fool of an Author God, your System is listening to the things you say and think. 

I have been WORKING here to foreshadow where I’m going with this story. I’m pretty sure that every single endgame plot point has shown up and is now in play in PINTWILF. Shang Qinghua, due to situational awareness, is dealing with too much in-world shit to narrow things down easily, but it’s all there! It will hopefully not seem as though I’m pulling things out of nowhere in the next and final part (Part 4) of this fic. 

-

“This makes me look crazy, bro,” Shang Qinghua  complains to the System. “It really does. I already have to be careful about talking to the secret, world-controlling system that lives in my head and this? This is not making me look any more stable! Where did this come from? Where the fuck did I even get it?! ”

Oh, things are coming together in Shang Qinghua’s head and he doesn’t know if he really likes the picture. On one hand, it’s always nice to actually have someone or something to blame for things beyond the fucking System. On the other hand, he really doesn’t know how the fuck he’s supposed to sleep at night with a full-length, polished silver mirror with an ornate golden frame under his house. 

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua, have you noticed that you’ve stopped losing points for continuity errors and plot holes? Shang Qinghua, you know that the people in your life have noticed that you know too much. They’ve just decided not to question you about it because you always look like you’re going to faint when they do, then you laugh and change the subject. 

But now Shen Qingqiu is on to you and he’s not so easy to shake. 

(Plus Shen Yuan! They’re terriers, SQH!) 

- 

He turns away from the mirror, only for a second System window to pop up in front of him. Only… the design of this one is different. Familiar, though! It takes Shang Qinghua a second to place it as Peerless Cucumber- as Shen Yuan’s Transmigration System.

 【 Users cannot be injured, killed, or trapped inside the looking-glass! The user will not be able to touch or be touched by anything inside the looking-glass! The user will be returned from the looking-glass within thirty minutes, unharmed! A substantial point reward is attached to this bonus mission. 】

“Right,” Shang Qinghua says.

This second pop-up window then shifts colors and is ruthlessly closed before his eyes. Ah, wow, Shang Qinghua kind of feels like he just saw someone get murdered here.

“...How many points?” he asks finally, reluctantly curious.

- 

AN: Having the Systems fight is so much fun. My setup here in PINTWILF has it so that there’s a main Worldbuilding System that does its best to maintain the world, then each transmigrator has their own personal Transmigration System managing their case. 

This is so the Worldbuilding System can maintain the world without the presence of transmigrators, and so the personal Systems can potentially follow their transmigrators into another world. All the Systems interact with each other in order to try to manage things and there are... issues.  

Look, the thing about simulated (or managed) realities for me is... someone coded the thing (or did some equivalent of coding the thing), and whether or not this thing in question is the world or just the System, if there are multiple entities trying to manage things, there’s going to be fuck-ups. You can’t have two cooks in the kitchen without points where the two cooks get in each other’s way at least a little bit. If there are multiple Systems, then you’re going to have friction, and that friction can be funny. 

Inspired by me trying to run two heavy art programs on my computer at once and being like, “Oh, boy, please don’t burst into flames while duking it out in there. Oh, man, you two were NOT made to operate together, huh?” 

- 

He knows he’s right when he walks away from some kind of important-looking procession, stepping into the next room at the same time as someone else, who looks directly at him and doesn’t look away. Shang Qinghua freezes in the doorway and doesn’t let himself stare so much as he can’t stop himself.

 “Oh, no,” Shang Qinghua thinks.

There’s a man standing in front of him, tall and broad-shouldered, with an ageless youth, but a sharp gaze and no youthful roundness to his features. His curly black hair has been cursorily held back from his face by a golden ornament, but is otherwise loose, and he wears his ornate red and black robes well and correctly, but like a man with a hundred more.

The man flicks a strong hand at the doors behind Shang Qinghua, which slam shut with a bang, like he’s done this a thousand times before.

He smiles unkindly. “Shang-Shishu,” he says, like he’s tasting the title, considering tearing it apart with his teeth. “So it's true. How curious.”

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen this face before, but he’s never seen it like this. The man looks like an emperor. He looks like a god. The red mark of the Heavenly Demons burns like a crown in the middle of his forehead.

Shang Qinghua takes an unwilling step back.

“What are you afraid of?” the original Luo Binghe says, still smiling. “We’re only talking.”

- 

AN: I tried to make this meeting mirror Shang Qinghua and Luo Binghe’s first scene in Part 3 of the fic, in which we finally meet the Luo Binghe (Shang Qinghua’s nephew) who is going to interact with the PIDW plot. 

Excerpt from Chapter 18: “The Inevitable Plot”: 

The restaurant is closed when Shang Qinghua lets himself in. The tables in the dining room are still packed up, lit by dim light through shuttered windows, and the only sign of another person are the chopping sounds coming from the brightness of the kitchen. Shang Qinghua stops in the doorway and lets himself stare.

There’s a young teenage boy standing at the counter, thirteen going on fourteen, still not yet near his adult height (taller than Shang Qinghua, a fact he's still not prepared to face), still carrying a youthful roundness to his features. Shang Qinghua has seen him like this a hundred times before: curly black hair tied back, a kerchief covering his head to keep it out of his eyes, a slightly yellowed matching apron neatly tied just the way his mother taught him, and intent on the work in front of him. His hands are quick, the knife sharp and sure, and the movements of food preparation work slide right into each other like he’s done this a thousand times before.

When did the boy get so big? It didn’t happen all at once; it snuck up on them, hiding dastardly in plain sight! Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew barely came up to his waist. Fuck, Shang Qinghua remembers when his nephew couldn’t walk. What is this? Who allowed time to pass like this?

Luo Binghe scrapes the chopped vegetables off the board and into the basket beside him, before putting down the knife and turning around. He smiles.

There’s no way for Shang Qinghua to count how many times he’s seen that before.

“Uncle,” the protagonist says fondly. “You’re here.”

- 

“Let’s talk,” Luo Binghe calls out, cajoling now. “Stop running and speak to me and perhaps old hurts can be forgiven. All that condonation and betrayal is so far in the past now. This lord can be merciful, Shang Qinghua. Just speak: how many things have you been hiding...?”

- 

AN: This is PIDW Luo Binghe, by the way. 

Once I realized I was going to have a room full of fortune-telling devices, I was like... “Ooh! Bing-Ge scene! I should have a Bing-Ge scene!” Because, like, that’s the curse of SVSSS transmigrator protagonists who trip into caring about Luo Binghe, baby! 

- 

Shang Qinghua takes some deep breaths to calm his poor, weak heart, and nearly falls to the floor anyway! But he catches himself!

And then a large, cold hand wraps around his arm to steady him. It’s the cold that keeps him from lashing out and probably breaking his own hand. Instead, he looks up, heart still pounding in his ears, into the frowning face of Mobei-Jun.

“Oh, you have the worst timing,” Shang Qinghua breathes.

Mobei-Jun’s expression twitches and he lets go.

“No!” Shang Qinghua chases the hand with his own, catching it before the man can get too far. “My king, I’m so glad to see you! Thank you for finally coming! I have so much to say,” he says quickly. “I-”

Before he realizes that he’s essentially holding Mobei-Jun’s hand for no reason now - ah, now that’s something he never would have dared to do like twenty years ago - and carefully drops it. He takes a deep breath, trying to calm the panic still racing through his veins. And then promptly realizes that Mobei-Jun is here. The demon lord is here in this secret basement.

- 

AN: Moshang in this fic is... hmmm... a little weird sometimes, because a lot of it has been happening in the background. A lot of it has been unspoken until Shang Qinghua’s breakdown and until now. 

Shang Qinghua isn’t actually as scared of Mobei-Jun in this fic as he is in SVSSS, and I hope that comes across. When he had his breakdown, part of it was fear, but a large part of it was also actually anger. Shang Qinghua was afraid of how the System had changed his life, but he was also angry about this loss of control. Yes, he was terrified of Mobei-Jun because he didn’t know if it was still his Mobei-Jun, which brought lots of old memories and old anger to the surface, in which Shang Qinghua was kind of like, “How dare you think you get to freely touch me after the things you did and never apologized for?” 

BUT the status quo in this world, before the World Update, is one in which Mobei-Jun touches Shang Qinghua’s hip without SQH flinching. It’s one in which SQH and MBJ drink and relax together. It’s one in which SQH isn’t afraid to reach out and grab MBJ’s hand, because he misses MBJ. 

They’re so close, they just need to actually talk it out. 

- 

Shang Qinghua glances at the ladder and the open hole in the floor. “Ah, my king, did you… climb down here looking for me?”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun answers, looking around with sharp eyes. He doesn’t seem to be very impressed with what he’s seeing. “...What is this place?”

“My, ah, my basement,” Shang Qinghua answers, leaving out the part where he didn’t even know he had one until about an hour ago. The System is determined to make him look like a bit of a madman, huh? “It’s just… just some artifacts and tools. I don’t… I don’t really come down here a lot…”

Mobei-Jun finishes studying the room, then stares at him again, his gaze more piercing than ever.

“The future concerns you this much?” he says.

Shang Qinghua is totally prepared to deny everything, but the phrasing of that cuts off every story he might try to tell. He glances around the room, full of these broken, desperate, stolen things. It’s… reflecting.

“...Yes,” he admits, hoarsely. Then coughs. “I… my king, we should… talk.”

“Yes,” Mobei-Jun agrees.

“But, ah, not here? I don’t… like it here.”

“Yes.”

-

AN: Mobei-Jun is one of the people who has noticed that Shang Qinghua knows more than he should. And now, thanks to this secret basement, Mobei-Jun has an explanation for why Shang Qinghua knows more than he should! 

If you don’t know about the System element, then this basement is actually pretty in-character for the new Shang Qinghua of PINTWILF. 

He is so scared of the future. He’s invested in the story now. 

- 

Shang Qinghua isn’t surprised at all when the special item speaks again as soon as it’s back in his hand.

Why would it shut up now, after all?

 “He has no name but the position he has been promised to, which he may not live to see,” the Weeper’s Eye says, which pulls Shang Qinghua’s gaze back to the demon lord waiting for him. “His father uses him as a tool. His mother is long departed. His uncle wants him dead. He has long known that these broken promises cannot be undone… but he knows new promises may yet be made.”

Mobei-Jun is frowning at the crystal eye in Shang Qinghua’s hand, looking between it and Shang Qinghua’s own eyes.

He’s not dressed-up the same way he was the last time Shang Qinghua saw him - no especially fancy robes or ornaments or jewelry. He looks like himself this time.  

 “If these ones are not kept, there will be nothing for the nameless man who will be king.”

Shang Qinghua doesn’t move.

- 

AN: I mentioned exploring Mobei-Jun not having a name in the commentary on the previous chapter. I guess that’s my take on PIDW Mobei-Jun... that the man doesn’t really have anything outside of his position. He’s a king, in service to a tyrant, and he’s never going to let anyone in. He’s just... cold... the whole way through. PIDW Mobei-Jun has an icy throne and nothing else. 

PINTWILF (and SVSSS) Mobei-Jun has the Airplane version of Shang Qinghua. When Airplane saved MBJ’s life, the System wasn’t making him do it, he made that choice for himself. The System was willing to let MBJ die (and, in my headcanon, be replaced by some ice demon cousin or LGJ). So, MBJ turns around and chooses Shang Qinghua for himself. 

Shang Qinghua was like, “No! This character can’t be replaced! You can’t just dress someone else up as Mobei-Jun! You can’t just let the character die! It has to be this man in that role! No one else!” 

When Mobei-Jun is coming to talk to Shang Qinghua in this fic, in this moment, he is making this choice for himself, the nameless man who has been promised a position he might not live to see. That’s what the Weeper’s Eye is getting at. If Shang Qinghua doesn’t want to hear the promises Mobei-Jun is will to make him, there might as well not be anything in Mobei-Jun’s future to make him an individual, more than a cold figure acting out a part. 

- 

“...Shang Qinghua,” Mobei-Jun says finally. “I will not hurt you.”

Shang Qinghua’s gaze snaps from the crystal eye in his hand, back to the demon lord standing by the exit to this secret basement.

“We will speak,” Mobei-Jun says solemnly, slowly, like someone repeating the lines of a script. “I wish to be understood by you. I have not known how. Yet I must try now… in my own words… and you must listen.”

Shang Qinghua swallows.

The anger - the frustration - breaking through at the end there sounds more like the man he knows. He’s pretty sure that’s meant to be a request, but it sounds like an order.

-

AN: After their last conversation, Mobei-Jun had a lot of soul-searching to do, and one of the conclusions he came to is that he can’t take anything for granted. He has to made explicitly clear, using words, which is apparently what matters with humans and with this human in particular, everything he feels. He can’t take the risk of continuing to hurt Shang Qinghua by letting the man think that he doesn’t regret hurting him or may hurt him again someday. 

-

He puts the Weeper’s Eye down.

He’s really sick of this thing. He doesn't want to carry it around all the time.

It only tells him things he knows, anyway.

- 

AN: We’ll get into the Weeper’s Eye in future chapters, but it’s... it’s not really a mind-reading device. It kind of is. It is a little bit. But part of the reason it’s so informative here is that Shang Qinghua is holding it and Shang Qinghua actually knows a lot about his characters and the people in his life. 

Even the original characters, like Fanli, he knows well. She’s his family. He’s privy to Fanli’s problems through Jiahui and Liu Qingge if nothing else. 

With Shen Yuan, he doesn’t know the kid well yet, but his fellow transmigrator isn’t that difficult to read and he’s been where Shen Yuan is. 

Shang Qinghua putting the Weeper’s Eye down here is a show of trust of sorts. It’s a way of telling himself to get out of his own head, away from character roles and exaggerated panic, and put himself in the moment with someone he knows and... well... trusts and wants to trust even more. 

- 

Shang Qinghua follows Mobei-Jun out of the basement, removing the spiritual seal from the wall, which makes the creepy basement entrance disappear, then replacing the flower that covered it. He hesitantly follows the demon lord back to the main room of his Leisure House. He has no idea how to stand, suddenly, or where to stand.

Mobei-Jun looks very determined.

“So, ah, should we… sit?”

“No,” Mobei-Jun replies, then abruptly says, “Shang Qinghua, you do not have to fear me. I do not wish to cause you any pain. Now or in the future.”

Shang Qinghua stares, wide-eyed.

That’s not… something he ever expected to hear explicitly.

Good! It's good, though! Very good.

It's great, really.

“...Thank you,” he says, stunned. “I don’t want to cause you pain either?”

“You have shown as much. Many times.”

This is probably not the time for an “Yes, I did tell you so” in any form!

Instead, trying to remember all the speeches he prepared while waiting, Shang Qinghua says, “You have too! In your own way! I just… my king, last time you visited was a… it was a very bad day for me. I apologize for my behavior! I was speaking from a place of-”

“Fear,” Mobei-Jun interrupts darkly. “Well-deserved.”

“Ah, well…”

“You believed that I would hurt you, in your state,” Mobei-Jun says.

“I was… it was very a bad and confused state, my king.”

“...You do not trust me.”

Shang Qinghua’s voice dries up on him. He wouldn’t put it that way, exactly! That sounds pretty terrible when said in such a blunt way. They’ve moved past that, haven’t they? It’s more that he trusts different people with different things! He trusts Luo Jiahui to be Luo Jiahui, and Liu Qingge to be Liu Qingge, and Mobei-Jun… to be Mobei-Jun.

- 

AN: Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun got really far without explicitly talking about things, but at some point that stopped cutting it. 

- 

“I have hurt you before,” Mobei-Jun says, looking at him directly. “From a place of fear… of anger… of… misunderstanding. I am… sorry for this. I will not do so again. I was wrong to treat you in such a way.”

Shang Qinghua takes in a deep breath… and out again.

Fuck, it feels like his eyes are burning.

“You have my respect,” Mobei-Jun says quietly, urgently, not letting up on getting all of these words out into the open. “You have my regard. You have my trust. Yet I have not shown this in a way that you have understood, so you could not share this. I have demanded your loyalty without being deserving of it.”

“My king,” Shang Qinghua protests, taking a step forward. “I was- I should have said-”

“You did. Many times. In many ways. I did not understand.”

“I wasn’t very clear either-”

“It was my responsibility to be clear. I must be clear now.”

“You’re being very clear now,” Shang Qinghua agrees quickly. If things get any clearer here, if any more of the things they’ve left unspoken get said, his heart won’t be able to take it. “Thank you, my king. It means- thank you."

Mobei-Jun nods. He looks relieved.

-

AN: I wanted to write a version of Moshang that felt... a little more mature? Shang Qinghua has developed a lot in this fic. He has grown as a person. And Mobei-Jun has seen this growth over the years. 

Mobei-Jun has also been able to see into this Shang Qinghua in a way that wasn’t available in SVSSS canon. I think that SVSSS Shang Qinghua was locked the fuck down. I think he was almost completely inaccessible and offered very, very few openings for connection. 

But in this universe, Mobei-Jun actually knows a lot more about Shang Qinghua. He knows what motivates Shang Qinghua. He knows that Shang Qinghua is a doting uncle and a doting older brother. He knows that Shang Qinghua has come to care for his sect. He knows that Shang Qinghua is intelligent and resourceful and funny. They drink together and talk politics! Mobei-Jun knows that Shang Qinghua is loyal and tired and trustworthy. 

So... there was an opening here that didn’t exist in SVSSS canon. 

And Mobei-Jun took it. 

- 

Shang Qinghua knows that cultural differences are a hell of a thing here, but everything being understandable in hindsight didn't make it not fucking hurt. It still hurts, even finally having the apology he never thought he'd get.

"...We’ve been pretty bad at understanding each other, huh?”

“It has often seemed as though we were not meant to meet,” the demon lord says softly.

Shang Qinghua, who can't imagine getting through his transmigration experience without meeting this man, thinks over all the unknowing irony in that statement.

"...Maybe."

“The differences are… significant.”

Shang Qinghua laughs, almost disbelieving. “That’s a word for it!”

"But not impassable."

"Ah… I… hope not."

- 

AN: I’ll probably make a separate post for this, but I love Moshang transmigrator reveals. Bingqiu transmigrator reveals are mostly about the Abyss, which is great, because that needs clearing up. MOSHANG transmigrator reveals are like, “My weak human husband is a god???” 

Also love it when MBJ is like, “Yes, this makes sense.” 

- 

“I have never known what you have wanted from me,” Mobei-Jun says next, like a confession. “Your life, you have said, time and time again. Though I am only alive by your grace. You demand none of what you deserve of me.”

“...I don’t think ‘deserve’ is a good word for this,” Shang Qinghua says, which probably isn’t the right thing to say, but he’s really too stunned to come up with anything better. He really didn’t prepare for the right conversation here. “Aha, sorry, my king. It’s just… I don’t think I like to think about it in terms of ‘owing’ anymore. Between us. At least… not like some sort of strict balance? I do something nice for you, you owe me. You do something bad to me, I get to hurt you. Not… not like that.”

Mobei-Jun thinks about it.

“Sorry, I don’t really know what I’m saying-”

“You are deserving of better than what I have given you,” Mobei-Jun insists, determinedly. “I do not understand you. I have never understood you.”

Shang Qinghua feels the same way.

“But I would like to,” Mobei-Jun says next. “I would if you would allow it.”

- 

AN: Mobei-Jun is only alive because Shang Qinghua saved him and he knows it! And Shang Qinghua has never made the demands he should have made, having that kind of leverage over Mobei-Jun! 

I’ve always wondered if this is deeply romantic by demon standards. Like, not inherently romantic. But I would bet that Mobei-Jun really likes the idea of a relationship where no one is keeping score... no one is granting favors to use like a leash of obligation... no one owes the other things they don’t want to give. I would bet that Mobei-Jun really, really likes the idea of a relationship where affection is freely given because the people in it want to give it. 

He does feel as though he owes Shang Qinghua, but I think Mobei-Jun likes the idea that his favor is his to give just because he wants to give it. 

-

Mobei-Jun lifts a hand, slowly, and holds it out.

Shang Qinghua thinks about it.

He thinks about it again.

He reaches back and puts his hand in Mobei-Jun’s own, which is as cool to the touch as always, and moves over his skin carefully. His hold is so light that Shang Qinghua could break it without any issue at all.

They stay there, like that, looking at each other.

Looking at their hands, holding without hurting, after everything. It's such a small gesture.

It feels kind of like a miracle.

-

AN: I am... a huge fucking sucker for Mobei-Jun holding Shang Qinghua waaaaay too lightly because he won’t risk hurting Shang Qinghua again. Like, this man is going to take it from the top. No more assumptions. 

- 

“What do you want, Shang Qinghua?” Mobei-Jun says, voice turning up at the end, in the closest thing that the man might ever come to helplessness. “What do you want from this?”

“I…” Shang Qinghua wipes at his burning eyes with his free hand. This is kind of pitiful. “Fuck.”

Mobei-Jun lifts his free hand and uses his own sleeve to wipe at Shang Qinghua’s tears, like his robes aren’t important to him at all. “Ask,” the man says, in the tone of a promise. “You do not have to fear the future. Anything I have to give is yours.”

Shang Qinghua gives up on trying to speak and just moves forward to bury his face in Mobei-Jun’s chest. Fuck it. The demon lord who was supposed to kill his character lets him do it. Mobei-Jun holds on to him, arms heavy but still so careful, the man’s chest moving in a sigh that sounds like relief.

This really was too many unspoken things to finally say aloud all at once.

- 

AN: So, yeah! That’s what I’m been building up to with the Jiahui/Qingge marriage and the Qijiu fights and makeup, getting Shang Qinghua to think about what he wants from his relationship with Mobei-Jun. Luo Jiahui and Shen Qingqiu have basically been throwing the question at him repeatedly: “What do you want from this life, Shang Qinghua?” 

Because it can’t all be plot! You’ve taken your family for yourself, but you can have more than that! You’ve made so many choices already... you can take this last step and make this choice too. Let Mobei-Jun in. 

A lot of Moshang plots end up being “Shang Qinghua’s inability to communicate versus Mobei-Jun’s inability to communicate”. Which is great! That’s Moshang! And some external issue (a rival demon lord, Linguang-Jun, etc.) will end up being the secondary plot which acts as a scenario pusher for the primary plot of the Moshang relationship. Again, great stuff! 

But since the romance isn’t the focus of this fic, I decided it would be fun to have a more “Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun versus the problem” take. (Which also shows up in lots of Moshang fics! Definitely not exclusive to this fic at all!) I’m looking forward to having Shang Qinghua and Mobei-Jun actually try and tackle problems together, as a couple, inside the main “Family of Choice” plot. 

Which isn’t to say that Moshang have totally worked out their relationship here. They have only just gotten together. Mobei-Jun still has issues. Shang Qinghua still has many issues. They’ve got a lot to work out together. They’ve never been in a relationship like this before and there’s a lot of people out there who would object to their relationship! Their relationship is going to continue to grow as the fic continues. They’re going to have a few bumps in the road. 

But I really like the idea of Mobei-Jun being Shang Qinghua’s rock in this fic. This man has been so stressed. He needs a hug from his ice demon boyfriend who can soothe headaches with a hand. 

-

When Shang Qinghua feels like he has himself more under control, he draws back just far enough to say, “My king, will you kiss me?”

Mobei-Jun’s expression is already soft, at least by his standards. His gaze turns hooded before he leans down as Shang Qinghua leans up. Shang Qinghua takes the man’s face between his hands to kiss him. It feels nice, if uncertain, with the hunger of something a long time coming at the end of it. There's years worth of wanting in this.

It has been so fucking long since Shang Qinghua kissed anyone.

He breaks the kiss and has to stifle laughter, clinging to the front of Mobei-Jun’s robes, which the man never closes properly, so now Shang Qinghua is never going to be able to not thinking about touching it. It’s a very nice chest to touch. He knew it would be.

Mobei-Jun’s brow furrows slightly, his hands staying on Shang Qinghua’s hips.

“What?”

Ah, sorry! Sorry, my king! It’s just- this is such a ridiculous detail to get stuck on, but your lips are kind of cold? I’ve, ah, I’ve always kind of wondered,” Shang Qinghua confesses quietly, without really meaning to actually say it. Holy shit, he’s going to blame saying something like this after that on the fact that he’s had a very long and very weird day. “Sorry. I'm really tired. It's fine. It's good.”

Mobei-Jun snorts and kisses him again, as if to say, “Deal with it.”

- 

AN: Cute! Mobei-Jun likes it when Shang Qinghua laughs. I stand by this.

[prongsies]

Come Home to You • Harry Potter

PAIRING: Harry Potter x Reader REQUEST:  Hi there! I was wondering if you would write a Harry x reader where Harry and Y/N slept together for the first time (you don't have to write the steamy part) before he went to the horcruxes hunt with Ron and Hermione and when he comes back he finds out that Y/N is pregnant with his baby? Can it have a happy ending please? This idea just popped up in my mind and won't leave me alone :(❤️ - ANON WARNINGS: a bit steamy in the beginning, mentions of the war and vomiting, mild language A/N: It took me sooo long to complete this request because of everything going on in school (I’m so sorry anon) I hope you enjoy it tho!

The small room you had rented out for the week was quiet, bringing a smile onto your face as you snuggled deeper into Harry’s chest, his arms wrapping around your waist tighter. It was a rare occurrence, the two of you finding peace and quiet among your busy schedules. With Bill and Fleur’s wedding drawing closer each day, Mrs, Weasley had everyone working twice as hard to ensure everything falls perfectly into place.

The Burrow was packed with people since the entire Weasley family had returned home, so you and Harry decided to rent out a small room in the village inn nearby, where, for once in your relationship, you were allowed to do anything you wish. So after a hearty dinner with the Weasley family - and endless teasing from Fred and George - you had treated back to your room, falling back into each other’s arms.

“I love you, you know?” Harry whispered as his hand moved to trace patterns onto your bare arm with his finger. The weather was quite warm tonight, so you had decided to pull on a tank top.

“I love you too, Harry” you breathed out, smiling when you felt him chuckle at the goosebumps that had appeared onto your skin,

You basked in the silence of the room, enjoying each other’s company before you submerge yourself in the chaos to come tomorrow, especially with the Delacour family arriving. Most importantly though, you took advantage of the few moments you have with one another, before another day introduces another round of worry for you.

See, Dumbledore had given Harry a very dangerous task, something you didn’t really approve of, but had no choice but to accept. Dumbledore had asked Harry to look for horcruxes - little items that kept a part of You-Know-Who’s soul, which had kept him alive for all these years.

“What are you thinking about, love?” Harry whispered in you ear, feeling you tense under his hold. Reaching up briefly, he moved your hair to the side, revealing your bare shoulders so he could plant sweet little kisses onto it, effectively calming you, even just a little,

“Nothing,” you replied breathlessly as you craned your neck further, allowing his lips access to the spots you both know will make you weak at the knees.

“You know you don’t need to hide anything from me, darling” Harry whispered once again, gripping your waist so he can turn you to face him, you eyes meeting his green ones. He smiled at you for a moment, pecking your lips, before returning his journey down your collarbone, nipping and licking any exposed skin he could reach, “Please tell me,”

“It’s just” you gasped as his teeth suddenly enclosed around a patch of skin, “I don’t understand why I can’t go with you on this mission”

“We’ve talked about this,” He replied, voice soft as he pulled you closer towards him, pressing his body firmly against yours under the soft covers, “I don’t want anything happening to you”

“We’ve been together for two years” You continued to reason out, trying to keep your head clear as Harry’s lips started making its way lower, teasing you just above your breasts, “I think I can handle it- oh, Harry”

“Yeah?” Harry ceased his movements, looking up to give you a teasing smirk as his left an open-mouthed kiss over the spot he just bit, “you like that, darling?”

“We’re not done talking, Harry” You tried lightly pushing him away, but he only pulled you closer, his shoulder flexing under the palm of your hands as he kept you in place. “Harry”

He pulled away, sincerity in his eyes as he moved up to come face to face with you, noses brushing at the proximity. His breath fanned you face as he spoke, “you are my life, (y/n). I wouldn’t know what I would do if anything happened to you”

“But Harry-“

“I know you want to help, love” Harry interrupted, knowing what you were going to say after weeks of arguing with him about him not allowing you to join him on his journey. “And I know it will still be dangerous even if you stay behind with Molly” his thumb reached up to trace your bottom lip, now pouting, “but it’s much worse out there, especially when there are people who know how much you mean to me. You remember what happened when you joined them in flying me back to the burrow, right?”

Of course, you remember. It had happened only weeks ago before everyone else had moved in the cozy Weasley home. You had volunteered to fetch Harry in Number 4 Privet Drive, being among the few who didn’t get to take the Polyjuice Potion and change into Harry. A Death Eater had recognized you as someone dear to Harry, and had targeted you the entire journey home.

If you weren’t quick enough to defend yourself, you would’ve never made it back in one piece.

Harry took your silence as a yes, his lips dropping into a frown as he pulled you against him again, burying his face into your neck as he continued kissing, “don’t worry, my love” he bit another patch of skin, releasing a soft moan from your lips, “After all of this is over, I’ll come home straight to you”

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

—

You lips were pulled up into a smile as you recalled the events of last night - the intimacy you shared with Harry as you moaned each other’s names in profession of your love for one another. Sure, you had done it a couple of times already, but it had always been in secret, with the constant fear of getting caught lingering over you shoulders.

Last night was different. Last night, you didn’t have to hold back as you screamed his name for everyone to hear - which you were sure they didn’t due to the strong muffling charms you had to do.

Merlin, you swear you could still feel Harry’s lips burning through your body, hear his groans in your ear as he praised you for how amazing you felt around him, how good you were taking him.

You could tell he was thinking the exact same thing as your eyes met across the room. His smirk had grown deeper on his lips as his eyes raked over your dress-clad body, and judging solely by the way he was looking at you, you were in it for another couple of rounds tonight.

Of course, everything was cut short when the first few members of the Order of the Phoenix arrived, and Arthur had asked Harry to see Molly so they could disguise him to look like one of their own - ginger hair with freckles dotting his face, an uncanny Weasley.

You were separated for the rest of the day, Harry joining Ron in welcoming the rest of the Weasley family, while you were with Hermione and Ginny making sure everything’s in proper order.

However, everything started falling apart when evening struck. It was in the middle of the reception when a wisp of light appeared in the middle of the room. Harry, who was across the room from you speaking to some guests, had taken the liberty to make cautious steps towards you, ready to protect you at any given moment.

That’s when Kingsley’s voice spoke, “The Ministry has fallen. The Minister of Magic is dead. They are coming”

All hell broke loose as dark figures suddenly appeared in wisps of black smoke, corning everyone in the tent as they attempted to disapparate. Harry was quick to your side, his features morphing back into the raven-haired boy you love as he pulled you into a kiss.

This was it, you thought as your lips moved against him briefly, a gut-wrenching feeling in you stomach as you pulled away, eyes meeting your once more as he whispered a rushed. “Be safe. I’ll come home to you. I love you”

He pushed you towards George who was quick to protect you, you snapping back to reality as you fired spells towards the Death Eaters surrounding you and the family you had come to love. Casting one last glance towards where Harry had left to, you could see him joining Ron and Hermione in the middle of the room, grabbing each other’s arms as they disapparated away.

—

The Shell Cottage was quiet, peaceful as the waves from the nearby sea crashed along the shore. Bill and Fleur Weasley had been kind enough to let you stay under their roof as your belly grew larger each month, the human forming inside of you growing more and more real by the day.

It’s been six months, six months since you’ve last seen Harry. You knew, not because you’ve counted, but because you were six months along the way. When you’ve awoken everyone in the Burrow with your hurling a few weeks since Harry had left, Molly instantly knew what was happening.

She was quick to provide you with everything you need - the support, the help, and the protection. As the months progressed and more Death Eaters were spotted around their household, Bill had graciously took you in, being the Secret Keeper to their new home called Shell Cottage.

From then, it was Fleur who had cared for you.

That’s also when Ron arrived. You were thankful your baby bump hadn’t shown then so he hadn’t noticed even a bit, and it was a relief for him to tell you Harry and Hermione were both okay despite him leaving them a bit earlier.

“(Y/n)” Fleur’s soft voice called out to you as you stood in the kitchen, peering out the window towards the sea. You turned to look at the beautiful woman, a kind smile adorning her face, “Bill and I are heading to Diagon Alley to fetch some things. Do you need anything?”

“I’m alright, Fleur. Thank you” You replied softly, still nursing the glass of juice you’ve prepared for yourself a little while ago. Fleur hummed a response as she disappeared out the front door with Bill, a soft pop following soon after as they disapparated away.

Turning back towards the window, you were surprised to see figures standing by the shoreline. At the sight alone, your heart started besting faster. How did they find you? And how timely is it that they arrive just when you’re alone.

You prepared your wand beside you as you squinted towards the approaching figures, trying to make out which Death Eater it actually was that had located this supposed concealed home, when you recognized one of them immediately.

“Harry?” You whispered upon the realization, your feet immediately taking you outside, onto the soft sand.

“Harry!” You called out as you neared them, not believing your eyes when you saw him alive and well. However, the grin disappeared from your face upon seeing he was carrying a little creature in his arms - Dobby.

The funeral you held for Dobby was small, honoring the death of the beloved former house elf- now eternally free. After that, you led everyone back inside the house, starting the kettle to prepare them tea.

Harry still hadn’t spoken to you - even looked at you - since they had arrived, even after Bill and Fleur had returned almost an hour later. But you understood. He must have been through a lot. These few days of peace was what he needed.

Hermione, however, was quick to pull you into her roo, a grin on her face as her eyes looked at your growing belly, “(y/n) are you...?”

She didn’t need to ask, she knows that. But the thrill of announcing it never ceases to feel exhilarating. A squeal left her lips as you nodded you head, grinning as she pulled you into a congratulatory hug. “Why haven’t you told Harry?”

“He’s been through a lot” Your shoulders sagged in disappointment. Of course, you wanted Harry to be the first to know. But with everything happening around him, everything going on in his mind, you knew this could wait even just for an hour.

“He’s going to be ecstatic. Promise me you’ll tell him”

“I mean, my growing baby bump can’t really hide the fact,” you joked, earning a giggle from the girl, “anyway, how are you?”

She proceeded to tell you everything, from the day they landed into London where they were located by Death Eaters in a small muggle cafe, to how they escaped the Malfoy Mansion. Tears had ran down your face by then as Hermione showed you the cut Bellatrix Lestrange has done on her arm, which was now healing after Bill helped her tend to it a little while ago

The conversation was cut short, however, when the door swung open, “Hermione, I think- oh, (y/n)”

“It’s great to know you still remember me” You attempted to tease, yet Harry didn’t exactly respond the way you wanted to.

Seeing your need to talk, Hermione stood from her seat to leave the room, making sure to nudge Harry further inside as she left. It was awkward when the door finally shut behind Harry, him standing by the door, not knowing what to say.

Since when was it this hard?

“Hi” Harry finally spoke.

“Hi, Harry”

“I just wanted to-“

“Speak to Hermione, yes” you interrupted, now growing annoyed. “It’s alright, I was about to start dinner anyway”

You made a sudden move to stand up, which you regretted immediately due to the pain you felt in your belly. Your arms wrapped around your bump as soon as it happened, supporting the weight of the baby as you hissed in pain, “fuckin hell, James Potter, you’re not yet even born and you’re already causing trouble”

“What did you say?” Harry asked, surprised the name of his father left your lips. When his eyes darted towards your belly, he need not ask anymore, “is that mine?”

“Bloody hell, Harry James Potter, of course it’s yours!”

With a chuckle, he took long strides to where you stood, wrapping his arms around you in the way you had missed terribly. It didn’t take long for the two of you to start tearing up as Harry placed a palm over his future baby, his eyes holding astonishment that he was going to be a father - much earlier than anticipated, yes, but he was happy nonetheless.

“Why didn’t you tell me, darling?”

“I couldn’t write to you” you whispered, “i wanted to, but it’s too dangerous”

“So you’ve dealt with all of this on your own?”

“Nonsense,” you grinned as his lips planted a lingering kiss on your forehead, ”Mrs. Weasley and Fleur took care of me”

The moment was broken abruptly when footsteps ascended the stairs in a rush, and Ron appeared into the room panting, before exclaiming, “I CAN’T BELIEVE I DIDN’T NOTICE YOU WERE PREGNANT”

—

James Sirius Potter was born weeks after the Battle of Hogwarts, and was dubbed by your friends as the “son of the brave” after everything that had happened. See, everyone had seen how hard you’ve fought in the war, even with the baby weighing you down.

A smile was brought to their faces upon seeing you wobble through the halls of Hogwarts, throwing Death Eaters against the wall with the strongest magic anyone has ever seen. You were practically harmless when the war concluded, and they reckon it was because of the magic your baby possessed - sort of a shield surrounding his mother.

James’ birth was the happiest you felt in your life, especially upon seeing Harry’s teary eyes as he held his son for the first time.

“You alright there, Harry?” You asked, still watching him gaze down at his son with so much love it made your heart clench.

“I’ve never been better,”

[cherryonigiri]

when and where (oikawa tooru) - part one

Summary: Tooru can’t seem to understand you loneliness, and you can’t understand his desire to sacrifice anything to be by your side again. In which the words ‘opposites attract’ are both your beginning and end. (Inspired by the song/lyrics of Undone by Haley Reinhart)

word count: 1.8k 

“Stars fade away, they just crash into space, disappear from my life, like you and I.” 

“Tooru,” you whisper. The numbers ‘5:00′ glare back at you in red, reminding you of the sleep that continues to evade you, despite feeling utterly exhausted. Your phone is glowing against the pitch black, the blue light acting as a substitute for the moon, which hides behind wispy clouds. “I miss you.” There is an ache that starts in the back of your throat, winding its way down to your chest where it stays, pushing, prodding, pounding against your sternum. Thankfully your voice doesn’t crack, but the tears are still there, trailing down your cheeks. You’ve steeled your resolve, but your heart is still drowning in the loss that is yet to come.

“I know darling,” he laughs. “I miss you too.” Another light-hearted chuckle. You can hear him shuffling through his bag. Seconds later, after the tap of shoes on tile, keys jingle and you hear the thump of the door shutting. It’s almost evening in Brazil (you know because you’ve long since memorized how many hours are between Sendai and Rio). The sun is probably setting on the beach Tooru just returned from, in complete opposition to the flickering stars keeping watch over your sleepless figure. 

That’s how it is between the two of you. Day and night. Tooru was more than happy to revel in his overwhelming brightness - embracing his role as the best setter in the prefecture and his popularity amongst his fans. He always had that smirk, the one that was always plastered on his face that screamed confidence in who he was. 

On the other hand, you clung to your shyness - you’d never liked large crowds to begin with, and you were happy with the small, close-knit, group of friends you’d made. You weren’t closed off, but new things were met with caution. Tentative touches and long gazes to determine whether an unfamiliar addition would disturb the peaceful familiarity you’d woven. 

The words ‘opposites attract’ made you snort, but you couldn’t deny that you’d been drawn to Tooru’s effervescent energy. (A year after you’d started dating Tooru had admitted he’d found a quiet refuge in his relationship with you.) In the beginning, Tooru had coaxed you out of your shell. Never forcefully, and always done with an observant eye. He ignored his team’s teasing, only inviting you to watch them practice after introducing you to each member individually outside of the university gymnasium. He’d rush you home in a heartbeat the minute you looked overwhelmed or uncomfortable. Like two planets, gravity had drawn you together, pushing you closer and closer with every orbit.

Now it’s different. Gravity is chasing after you, bringing your heart catastrophically close to disaster before flinging it into the distance. Your whispered ‘I miss you’ wasn’t an attempt to impart a fleeting bit of affection, or to reassure Tooru that your heart still beat for him every second of the day (which it did). No, it was meant to hide an unspoken plea that was begging him to return, to once again indulge in hour long phone calls late into the evening; to be present. Of course, you weren’t expecting him to pick up on that. After all, you’d dedicated your time alone to perfecting the art of not letting anyone know of your unravelling.

It started slowly—long video chats in the evening became less frequent, replaced by a dwindling number of rushed phone calls on the train to work. Short texts, snuck between sets and during water breaks, became the norm, erasing your habit of sending each other paragraphs about your days. You knew he felt guilty for missing the small snippets of time that he could spend with you. At the core of his being, Tooru is a caring person: he would run himself ragged and work himself to the bone for someone he loved. It was a double-edged sword; working harder and dedicating more time to accelerate his progress so he could return to you faster meant he was inevitably drifting away. 

“Tooru, I can’t do this anymore.” You wince as you throw your plan out of the window, foregoing any kind of verbal cue that would let him know that this was serious. That you were talking about more than having a mundanely horrible day at work.

“Love, what happened today? Was today a bad day? I thought work was going better…” Your boyfriend trails off as you remain silent. 

“This. Us. I think,” you gulp down the sob that threatens to erupt from your throat. “I think we should break up.” You have to force out those two words, break up, because saying them out loud makes it real. Makes this whole conversation real. Grounds it reality, in the realization that this is really happening, that your heartbreak is rushing towards you much faster than you ever wanted. 

You expect him to protest. To at least exclaim loudly and object to the separation. Maybe a part of you wants him to plead, to experience the same hollow loneliness of missing him. To tell you that, yes, I am suffering just as much, and feeling just as broken as you are. Maybe you are desperate, hoping that he’ll convince you that the exuberance he expresses over the phone is one of his carefully constructed facades.

“Can I at least know why?” You catch the slight uptick of his voice, the crack that he tries to hide from you. 

And that’s when your heart truly shatters. 

Because, by asking that question, he reveals that somewhere between his last night in your apartment and today, at five in the morning, the two of you stopped inhabiting the same realm of separation. In a way, Tooru had confirmed what you’d started fearing with every passing day: that he was stronger than you’d ever be. That he could bear the weight of being separated by continents and oceans while you were crumbling. You couldn’t do it. You couldn’t endure the pile of missed calls followed by rushed texts of apology. You can’t stand that the only time you can talk to him is on crowded subways where the ever present bustle of other commuters intrudes on your conversations. God, now that you think about it, when was the last time you’d talked to Tooru for more than five minutes? 

“We barely talk anymore Tooru,” you begin, hunching over as both the tears and words begin to flow freely. “I—”

“But you know why y/n!” he responds. He’s pacing, the thumps of his feet echoing through the receiver. He lets out a sigh and you know he’s running his hand through his hair. It’s one of his habits that you have memorized. It’s painful how easy it is for you to imagine Tooru; all his little gestures and mannerisms etched deeply and intimately into your memory. 

“Yes, I know why,” you hiss. “But the fact that you never told me outright? That hurt Tooru.” It still does. It’s his strange blend of selflessness and ambition that has led you here. You thought you’d be sad, that this conversation would leave you with a heavy heart. Instead, a small spark of anger lodges itself in your chest. 

“How was I supposed to?” He retorts. “It’s not like I can ask you to give up your time with me. I’m trying my best to get back to you sooner!” But how can he say that when he’s already left you behind? Instead of extinguishing your anger, he only fans the flames, truly setting you alight. 

“Did you ever think to ask me? Did it ever occur to you that I would rather have waited for longer if that meant you could actually have time for us?” Your rage is dangerous and all-consuming, centering you within the bitterness of the isolation that Tooru had forced upon you.

Silence. And then,

“Y/n…” The way Tooru says your name nearly breaks your resolve. “Please, just wait a little longer. I’ll figure something out, I can train more so I can come back in less than a year. I’m just asking you to be patient.” No, no, no. What he’s offering is worse. You want him to make more space for your relationship, not less. In his quest to hasten his return, he’d turned to a method that consumed the time you occupied in his day. Slowly but surely, the space you’d taken up was sacrificed, leaving you with nothing but those five minutes on the train ride to work.

“That’s not what I want!” You shout. Why is his solution to make things worse? 

“Then what do you want?” He screams back, his thinly veiled irritation blooming into confused anger. “You’re lonely, so I’m trying my fucking best to go back to you as soon as possible. “Why…” he pauses, as if he’ll regret his words, before plowing on, “can’t you just accept that?” 

Suddenly, all the air is knocked out of your lungs with a whoosh. You barely have time to realize you’d stood up in the midst of your argument before you’re sagging against your bed frame, wilting until you’re sitting on the floor. 

You’ve given up, because Tooru’s stubbornness has manifested itself as an irremovable wedge between the two of you. Blinded by his belief that all you desire and yearn for is his physical presence, he can’t even begin to see that all you want is to be given a semblance of space within his life. To have a few hours of his voice, rather than the fleeting promise of reuniting sooner. To accompany him, rather than wait for him at the end of his journey. He is unwilling to bear witness to the different kind of loneliness you suffer; unwilling to peer into the parallel, yet utterly different, dimension of suffering that branches from his own longing for you.

“Tooru…” I’m being selfish, “This isn’t working. Just let us go,” whatever we are now, before it gets worse. You’re not sure if he can hear the shaky inhale of your lungs as you try to steady your voice. 

“I can’t,” he sobs. “Why can’t you see I’m doing this for you?”

Because you can only see me as the finish line, not as someone who runs beside you. Because somehow, you can only worry about the me you see in the future, not the person who is speaking to you now. “I’m sorry,” you say, your voice still wavering despite your best efforts.

‘No, please, y/n—”

One last reassurance. “Thank you for everything.” I love you.

“Y/n wait, please, don’t do this.” His pleas are tearing you apart. “I can take a break, fly back—”

You refuse to be the reason he halts his momentum. “Goodbye, Tooru.” A broken whisper. 

Equal and opposite, two stars crash into each other violently. Flickering in and out, they vie for the chance to exist as they clash against each other, emitting white sparks.

A press of a red button. 

Both of them are gone.

[kamosweasley]

Not that damn song again (George Weasley x Reader)

Description : It's Christmas time so a cute fluffy fic about it sounds right. And I'm a simp for George (and Christmas songs), I hope you'll enjoy it as much as I enjoyed writing it.

Words count : 2.5K

Author note's : lyrics from All I want for Christmas by Mariah Carey are in italics.

Tag list : @memekingofwwiii

It's terribly cliché but you can't lie, you love Christmas. There is no better time of year, with snow, hot chocolate, big sweaters, cinnamon cookies and decorations everywhere, how not to love it ? You don't understand people who prefer summer with its sweltering heat and sunburn and all those damn mosquitoes. But unfortunately for you, your boyfriend is a man of the second category whereas you are a woman of the first category. Which makes some things a bit complicated, like you grumbling when he wants to pull you out in the July sun or like him not being able to stand the Christmas carols that you play over and over again from the first of November.

“Not that damn song again …” he mumbles, hiding his face in his hands. “Darling I love you, but if you play this song one more time ...”

“Come on Georgie, it’s Christmas time ! Listening to Christmas songs is essential to my mental health right now. It's either that or stuff myself with cinnamon cookies with the delicious icing and not fit into my favorite sweaters anymore. You really don't like it ?”, coming to give him a back hug with puppy eyes. He never resists you with those eyes, he loves to see them disappear to give way to a big smile.

“I'm sorry my love, but at the end of the fiftieth listening of your playlist I started to hate Santa Claus and the sound of the bells.”

You're both sitting on his bed, he's finishing his potion homework but he's not getting very far with you in the same room listening to the same songs for over a month. He hates it because he loves you with all his heart, but he's starting to wish he could go deaf so he can't stand those melodies which haunt him even in his sleep. He would love it as much as you do, but the more the days go by, the more he understands this will never be the case. And he doesn't want to put limits on how you enjoy this time, he knows how much it means to you.

You put your hands under his sweater to warm your hands, the contact of your cold skin on his abdo makes him startle as you let out a giggle.

“Sorry, my hands are cold and I know that your mother's sweaters keep me warm so I took advantage of it …”

“I know darling, it's absolutely not to satisfy your wandering hands.” he says as he turns his head to kiss you, “I'm going to ask my mother to knit you some mittens, since it's very warm.”

“Good idea, I'm freezing to death right now.” George begins to turn around with a grin on his face, ready to warm you up in his own way but you haven’t noticed his purpose, “I'm going to go make hot chocolate in the kitchen, do you want some too ? I can bring you a cup, I make the best hot chocolate you've ever tasted. No offense to your mom who must make really good ones too, but mine is better.”

You often take him by surprise, changing the subject or not noticing how the situation is turning out and he always found it charming. You make him think of Luna a little bit, on another level but just as clueless as her sometimes. Your boyfriend smiles at you, returning to his potion homework. “Anything to please you darling.”

“You'll see, it's fabulous! I have a secret ingredient, if you're nice I might tell you what it is.” you put on one of his sweaters that you take from his suitcase before you wink at him and leave the room. He should take advantage of the silence of your absence to finish his damn homework in a hurry but he can't concentrate. Potion is boring and he really loves it when you wear one of his sweaters, it's way too big for you and that's what makes you so adorable. And you will come to spend a few days at the Burrow, meet his parents as his girlfriend and receive your own sweater knitted by Molly. He hopes that you will continue to steal from him even if you have your own.

“Here it is ! Taste it and tell me.” you say while putting the cup in his hand. You already know what he’ll say of course, everybody loves your hot chocolate, there is no reason for your boyfriend not to do the same. He thanks you before taking a sip of the hot drink, ready for a chocolate too sweet with some spice in it. And it is, but he has to admit that it is particularly good. He nods his head before he smiles at you. “You're right, it's the best I've ever tasted.” He puts his cup on the bedside table and returns to his parchment.

“So why don't you keep drinking it ? It doesn't look like the best hot chocolate you've ever tasted.” You're sure George didn't lie to you, but you still hoped he would act on his words. When he tells you it's the best hot chocolate he's ever had in his hands, you wish he wouldn't let go of the cup until he's finished it. Maybe you have a misplaced ego but this chocolate is your personal pride and you want your boyfriend to treat it well.

He runs a hand through his hair, not even taking his eyes off his homework. “I've never been a big fan of hot chocolate or Christmas cookies and certainly not of all those bell-filled songs. I’m sorry darling but I never liked any of this.” You melt before his eyes, he is sincerely sorry he doesn't like what makes you so happy and you think it's too cute.

"I'm just not a Christmas person. It's good because we saw family and have presents but still don't get what you found in this period.” You come and join him on the bed, sitting in a suit in front of him. “It’s simple. Let it snow, Jingle Bell Rock, All I Want For Christmas, it’s all about a magical time.” In his eyes you can tell that he doesn't understand at all what you're talking about, which is amazing when you consider how much time he spent listening to all those songs. “We are wizards. Our whole life is magical, I'm not sure I understand you on that point.” You grab a roll of parchment and hold it as if it were a microphone, looking at him with a glim in your eyes.

The best thing you can do to help him understand is to show him. You’re not a good singer, at least George never complains about it, perhaps because he tries very hard to keep his mind upright since he doesn’t like your playlist. It's unlikely you'll be able to change his mind, but a little a capella karaoke should put a smile on his face.

“I don’t want a lot for Christmas, there is just one thing I need. I don’t care about the present, underneath the Christmas tree.” While keeping your fake microphone close to your mouth, you point at your boyfriend with the same expression as Mariah Carey in the clip. “I just want you for my own, more than you could ever know ! Make my wish come true, all I want for Christmas is you !”

As it is impossible to sing Mariah Carey without playing the diva, you give it your all and when you see George's smile, you do it well. It must be your acting more than the words of love that make him smile like that, it's like he's trying to restrain himself from laughing.

“'Cause I just want you here tonight, holding on to me so tight.” On all fours you come and sit between his legs, facing him. He puts his cold hands on your hips passing them under the elastic of your jogging, a smirk on his lips. You shiver from the sudden cold on your skin but don't stop singing, your face getting closer and closer to his. “What more can I do ? Baby, all I want for Christmas is you ! You, baby.”

He's right in front of you. Your noses are touching, your eyes are immersed in each other and you melt like snow in the sun at the intensity of this moment. Damn you love him.

The hunger in his eyes devours you before his lips reach yours. A passionate, fiery, kiss that will get you high. Your head empties itself of all words and thoughts, your hands naturally place themselves in his hair and behind your closed eyes you imagine his smile, his eyes shining with mischief, his hand holding yours and all those little things that make you fall for him. Over and over again.

Gasping for air, the kiss is stopped. You're almost dizzy, head spinning with butterflies messing around in the belly. Liking George Weasley drives you crazy, there's no telling, you've never felt that way about anyone else. Before him you'd never been that high, you'd never had a simple kiss that made you tremble, you'd never dreamed of spending the rest of your life with someone. George Weasley is the kind of man you should treasure, marry and have as a father to your children. For the simple reason that he will be wonderful in all these roles, with him everyday life will never be boring, he will always have the words to make you laugh or smile. He will give love like no one else to his children, an exemplary father who will take care of his children as if they were the greatest wonders in this world.

You have no doubt about it, your boyfriend will offer a wonderful life to the woman he chooses. That's why you're not going to let him go. Your lover.

You suddenly open your eyes as you feel yourself tilted to the side with George, he's still holding you against him and you land softly on the comforter and pillows. You're lying against each other and George slips one of his legs between yours so that they get tangled up. “Now we’re good darling.” He kisses your forehead and plays with a strand of your hair, it's so peaceful. “I haven't finished the song.” You feel his mouth smiling against your forehead. “Who cares ? Certainly not me, I heard what I needed to hear. I think I understand now.”

“Do you ?”

“Yes, but I still hate Christmas songs.”

You lean on your forearm to look down on him, looking pouty. “C’mon ! You’re overreacting, this song is brand new. It's only been out for a month, you can't already hate it.” He grabs you by the shoulders and applies pressure to force you to lie down, not softened by your pouty air. “You listen to it all the time and if not, you sing it. Believe me, one month is enough to get sick of it.”

After being a diva a few minutes before, you're having fun being a diva again because after all, you can't talk about Mariah like that. And you can't help but defend the honor of your favorite Christmas songs. With a burning gaze, fists on your hips and a somewhat condescending tone, you fight back. “It’s Mariah Carey so it will be a massive hit, I’m sure of it. And at least, I’m sure you will think of me every time you’ll hear this song for the rest of your life.” Smiling at you, he adopts the same facial expression and flutters his eyes saying to you in a sweet voice: “The only way I'm going to hear this song again is from you. It's a Muggle song, no one is going to know it among wizards.”

Rolling on yourself to be flat on your stomach, half on George given the proximity that the bed offers you, you give him a charming wink as you rest your chin on your hands.

“That’s what I’m saying. At the end of each year you will hear this song many, many, many times and you will think of that moment when I sang it to you in your dorm at Hogwarts. You will see the scene again as you hear me singing it from the other side of our house. Because we're going to spend our whole lives together.” Since you're already half on top of him, he has no problem placing you on top of him, kissing both your cheeks and your forehead as you go by, making you giggle. “You’re a genius. You really thought of everything.”

You mess his hair before wedging your head in his neck, breathing in his scent. You smile against his throat and you know him well enough to know that it makes him smile back. “How could I want to live without you ? You know how to make yourself indispensable Georgie, it's almost annoying.” You love it when he runs his hand through your hair, it's the most relaxing thing ever. His other hand traces back and forth in your back, making you a little sleepy. This man knows how to deal with you. “Because you thought you were the only one who thought of everything? I would never let you go.”

If you could stop time and stay like this forever, you would do it without hesitation. You're comfortable in a bed, just the two of you, your hearts are beating at the same rhythm and you're in love. Then it smells like hot chocolate and you've managed to make him smile to a Christmas song. You never want to forget this moment. “Fine by me Georgie.”

You can't resist the temptation to hum Last Christmas, but George's caresses make you fall asleep little by little. You stop before the end of the song and in a few minutes you fall asleep on him. He kisses the top of your head, finding you absolutely adorable. You always manage to fall asleep quickly when you are being tickled, which makes him very tender and amuses him a lot. He often teases you about it, it always annoys you and he finds it even cuter.

Feeling your body rise slightly to the rhythm of your breathing, he starts humming the end of Last Christmas. He takes advantage of you being asleep, so you won't be able to talk to him about it someday. Continuing to run his hand through your hair and humming Christmas music, he smiles as he looks up at the ceiling. You are with him, alone and calm, in perfect harmony and he always liked to feel the beat of your heart when you cuddle. It's that kind of perfect moment. And he wishes it would never end.

[pregnant-piggy]

Walking in the wind

Harry Potter x reader

Words: 3000+

Warnings: it’s not happy, sorry babes :)

after the song: Walking in the Wind by One Direction

A/N: I’m a 1D fan, don’t judge me... 

-------------------------------------------------

He had broken up with you a week ago. He had been convinced that it wasn't working anymore and that you both knew that. He had broken you in scatters convinced you had known it was coming.

‘Harry, what do you mean?’

‘We both know it, (Y/N). It's not working anymore.’

He looked at you with those greens eyes. The eyes that used to fill you with butterflies every time you saw them. The eyes that had been a guide in the dark to you. In your darkest moments you had relied on those two green eyes.

And now they were the eyes that looked at you in sincere, as you felt your heart break apart.

He had broken up with you a week ago and had turned your shared home into his. It wasn't your place anymore. It was a stranger's house. You couldn't go there anymore. What had once been the place where you had felt at home, was now the home of someone else.

He had broken up with you a week ago. You were not whole anymore. You felt like a part of you was missing. The emptiness in your heart filled you with sorrow and left you down in your life.

- -- -

Harry reached over to the left side of the bed only to find it empty, realising that you were gone. Though there was some part of him sad about not being with you anymore, he knew that it hadn't been working. The fire that had been there for so long had faded into the slightest spark.

Rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, Harry lookes around in the room. There were so many memories there. Past memories.

You giggled happily as Harry pulled the sheets off you.

‘Five more minutes! Please?’ you asked with a pout.

Harry leaned forward and placed a kiss on your mouth, making your grip lessen. He pulled the sheets away and you yelled. With a smirk on his face Harry brought his cold hands closer to your body.

‘No!’ you cried out as you realised what Harry was doing. ‘Harry don't!’

But he didn't listen to you and placed his ice cold hands on your skin, sending a shiver across your body. You laughed and pushed Harry away.

‘Fine! I'll get up!’ you said and swung your legs out of the bed.

Harry let go of you and watched as you sat up straight in your bed.

‘That's all I asked for,’ he chucked and turned around. ‘Breakfast?’

‘Sounds lovely, honey,’ you said behind Harry's back as he left the bedroom, very much aware that you were back in bed before he had disappeared.

- -- -

Harry's chest was cold as he walked into the kitchen in his boxers. He made himself breakfast in silence.

That was one of the things that had made the most difference; there was silence in the house. When you had still lived here, there had always been some kind of noise. Whether from the TV, the radio or just you talking to either yourself or Harry. But now those sounds weren't there and Harry really appreciated the silence.

He watched the news while wolfing his breakfast and then quickly got dressed. He was late, but he always was.

‘You're late,’ you said, looking at your watch as Harry walked up to you.

You were standing impatiently at the door of the apartment building, waiting for Harry.

‘I had to finish something,’ Harry said, already feeling annoyed.

He was only ten minutes late. Could he help it that you always wanted to be on time? No one bothered it if you would come ten minutes later that planned.

You frowned your eyebrows. ‘You're always late,’ you spoke coldly.

It was a fight that you often had. A small thing like this, could throw you off and suddenly Harry found himself attacked on things he didn't even know he did. It annoyed him greatly, but he never said it because it would just make the fight bigger and Harry didn't want to fight.

‘I said that I had to finish something,’ Harry repeated himself. ‘Can we go now?’

‘Fine,’ you said sharply and ignored Harry's looks as you walked to the car.

Now he had broken up with you, there was no one that complained he was late. No one told him to hurry or would get angry because he would miss something.

And yes, of course the break-up had its consequences on Harry's life but you and him had split on friendly terms. There were no grudges. No necessity for apologies. You and him were friends, like you had been before you had started dating. Harry could just walk into you and it would be like nothing ever happened.

- -- -

On the other side of the city you woke up, stretching out to have the lonelines wash over you as you felt emptiness next to you. The place where Harry used to lie.

After he broke up with you, you had gone to Hermione’s and Pansy’s place. They had let you in and had taken care of you, telling you to stay as long as you wanted and needed. You had spent the nights on their couch, but had not slept a lot. It was weird sleeping without Harry next to you. You missed the warmth of his body, his breathing and his hands.

‘Rise and shine, darling,’ Pansy said as she walked into living room wearing Hermione's shirt.

‘Ugh,’ you said, rubbing your eyes.

Pansy opened the curtains and stumbled to the kitchen, giving you time to properly get up too. You crawled off the couch and put on two different socks before follwing Pansy to the kitchen.

‘Coffee?’ Pansy asked, while flipping through the pages of an old fashion magazine.

‘Yes, please,’ you said, placing yourself on one of the barstools at the kitchen island.

You grabbed the magazine and mindlessly browsed through it, not even looking at the pictures.

You had finally convinced Harry to come shop with you. It had taken you three weeks but now he was finally walking with you through the mall.

Harry's wardrobe desperately needed change. For the past five years he had worn nothing but black jeans and old T-shirts. And while he had grown and gained more muscles over the years, his clothes had stayed the same.

‘How ‘bout this?’ Harry asked and he spun in front of you.

He was wearing blue, slim fit jeans with a red shirt and, God bless, a leather jacket. It looked good on him. The colour of his shirt made his eyes brighter and the jeans was tight around the muscles of his legs. It looked really good on him.

‘You look great,’ you said, grinning at your boyfriend.

‘So great you want to take it off?’ Harry asked and he winked at you.

‘I don't know,’ you said smirking. ‘Show me some more.’

The doorbell rang.

‘I'll get it!’ Hermione yelled from the living room, where she apparently was.

Pansy placed a steaming cup of coffee in front of you and rested her arms on the kitchen counter while she watched you burn your mouth on the drink.

‘It wouldn't hurt you to sleep. You know that, right?’ she asked you.

You smiled. ‘I know. I just can't.’

Pansy turned around and started on breakfast. ‘Hermione got some sort of tea that's supposed to make you sleep better. Maybe you should try that.’

‘Yeah, maybe I should...’

Staring at Pansy's back you listened to the sounds Hermione and the person who rang the bell were making. They were having a heated discussion it seemed. After a few minutes they conversation stopped and the front door closed.

Hermione entered the kitchen, fully dressed and ready for her day.

‘Who was that?’ Pansy asked, kissing Hermione goodmorning.

‘Morning to you too, honey,’ Hermione chuckled before she muttered something you couldn't hear and neither did Pansy because she asked,

‘What?’

‘It was Harry. He's going to the ministry too and he offered me a ride. I told him to meet me downstairs in five minutes,’ Hermione answered while avoiding your look and she took the toast Pansy was holding up for her.

‘Okay, have fun at work, love. I'll see you at lunch?’

Hermione placed a quick kiss on Pansy's lips and made her way out of the kitchen.

‘Bye, Hermione!’ you yelled.

‘Byebye!’

The front door closed and the apartment filled with silence.

‘You wanna see him?’ Pansy asked and she nudged her head to the window.

You got up from your seat and hesitantly walked to the big window that gave view to the street. There, below on the sidewalk, you recognised a mess of black hair as Harry. He was wearing the leather jacket you had given him for his birthday last year. You sighed and looked away; he looked good. It seemed he was doing way better than you, like you had been a burden to him all those years.

‘You don't know how he is, darling,’ Pansy said next to you, like she could read your mind.

‘He looks good,’ you admitted to her while you sat back down at the kitchen island. ‘I miss him.’

Pansy snorted and shook her head. ‘You shouldn't. He broke up with you and he never told you why! He is a pathetic jerk!’

‘But he was my jerk,’ you sighed playing with the spoon in your coffee.

‘Oh, cut the bullshit. I wish I could stay here all day, trying to remind you of what a douche he is, but unfortunately some of us have work to do!’

Pansy danced out of the kitchen leaving you alone with you thoughts.

- -- -

‘You never tell me anything!’

‘How was I supposed to know you wanted me to tell you?’

‘Because this is important, Harry!’ you breezed. ‘This is your job we're talking about!’

‘It's nothing! Why do you always make things three times bigger than they are?’

‘I don't! I just wished you’d told me!’

‘There was nothing to tell! Stop being such a pain in the ass and let me live my own life for once!’ Harry growled and you stepped back.

‘I'm sorry for trying to love you! Guess I'll just stop then, huh?’ you asked, raising your voice.

‘I can't let you take over my life! (Y/N), I love you, but I need my own space and my own time.’ Harry's voice had gotten softer but his words still hurt.

‘I understand, Harry. But I want to be there for you. And I can't help you if you don't let me into your life.’

You looked at Harry as he stared back at you. This argument had been happening often lately and both of you were sick of it, but neither wanted to give in. You wanted Harry to tell you more and Harry wanted you to give him his time.

But this day, it was too much for you. The past months of little arguments had tired you, both physically and mentally. You loved Harry, but if this was what the future would be like, maybe it shouldn't be the future.

So you broke. You broke and fell on your knees. The tears streamed down your face and your breaths turned into sobs. Harry quicky sat down next to you and took you in his arms. The two of you stayed there all night, whispering how much you loved each other, promising to listen to the other's wishes and telling each other that this was forever.

- -- - 

‘Happy birthday, mate!’ Harry congratulated Ron.

All Harry's friends were there, each and every one happily and carefree talking. It had been awhile since all of them had been together, but it felt like nothing had changed.

‘I would like to make a toast, everyone!’ Seamus spoke, silencing the group. ‘Let's raise put glasses to the birthday boy-'

‘Man!’ Ron interrupted him.

‘Sure, whatever makes you sleep at night. We have all known him for a long time and...’

Seamus went on but Harry's attention shifted to something else; you. You weren't here. While you were such good friends with Ron. Why would you miss his birthday?

‘...to Ron!’

‘To Ron!’ the people around Harry said and toasted.

Harry lifted his glass to and took a sip like everyone else, but then he turned to Hermione, who sat next to him.

‘Where's (Y/N)?’ he asked her.

‘At home,’ Hermione answered curtly.

‘Why?’

‘You're kidding right?’ Pansy said before Hermione could answer, though her face was the same as her girlfriend's.

‘No,’ Harry spoke slowly.

‘You broke up with her! Why would she want to see you now?’

‘But we're friends! I broke up with her because as a couple we didn't work! But we stayed friends! I don't know why she has been avoiding me the past week. I did nothing wrong!’

‘Harry, you are unbelievable,’ Hermione said and then walked away.

Pansy gave him a final angry look and then followed Hermione to the other side of the bar. Harry was left alone and in doubt. Did he do something wrong? But what? You and him had both known that you weren't working together.

- -- - 

It was raining. Or better said the sky was falling down on earth.

Hurriedly you ran down the street. You had been working all day and had promised Pansy and Hermione to cook, but you had to get the groceries. Completely soaked you gave up on running and slowed down.

The second the door closed behind you Harry hurried into the hall with a big towel. The water was dripping from the edge of your hair on the floor, creating puddles around your feet that were wet too.

‘Oh, babe, c’mere,’ Harry said and he wrapped the towel around you after you had taken off you coat. ‘I told you it was going to rain.’ Harry’s words were strict but his voice was soft and he chuckled.

He took you to the bathroom, not once letting go of you. He helped you get dried up and brought you his favourite sweater. As he was rubbing the towel on your head to dry your hair his eyes fell onto your lips. You blushed and placed them on his mouth.

The towel was soon forgotten as Harry wrapped his arms around your body, puling you close to him. His hands rested on your hips as his tongue roamed your mouth. You felt a heat spreading in your body that had nothing to do with the heating in the room. Harry had the ability to make your inside turn into fire. And back to ice the second he let go of you.

‘I’ll make you tea,’ he said as he broke the kiss.

His hands lingered on your body before he left the bathroom.

It was at the end of the street when you turned the corner and saw him.

Harry was walking in your direction. His head bowed forward for the rain, but he would definitely see you if you walked past him.

You had not spoken to him since that awful day he broke up. And you had not seen him since he had picked up Hermione a week ago.

He had come by though. Multiple times. But every time Hermione or Pansy had sent him away. He had tried to contact you too. Your phone was full of missed calls and unopened texts. But you wanted nothing to do with him anymore. It was over. He had made that clear.

And yet as he came closer you felt a tingle in your stomach. The thought of him seeing you and immediately forgetting why he had broken up flashed your mind as you watched him look up. But when he saw you, the tingle made you nauseous.

‘(Y/N)! Wait!’ Harry said as you had tried to make your way to the other side of the street.

You turned around and watched Harry approach you through the rain. His black hair was sticking to his face and his jacket was soaked from the rain.

But his eyes, his eyes were still the same. Still that safety-place. Still home.

‘Why have you been avoiding me?’ Harry asked.

Roughly were you pulled out of your trance.

‘We broke up Harry. That usually means you stop seeing each other,’ you replied.

‘But why? We're friends!’

‘We're friends? Why would you think that?’

‘Because that's why we broke up remember? We weren't working as a couple so we went back to friends.’

‘No, Harry! You broke up with me! When will you realise that I never wanted to break up? I loved you! And then you sit down next to me one day and you rip my life to pieces.’

The rain kept falling and with the drops so spilled your words.

‘We had everything! I loved you so much! I gave you my everything. All I ever wanted was for you to treat me with respect. But you never even gave a reason why! Why did you stop loving me, Harry?’

‘I never stopped loving you,’ Harry said softly, his words almost inaudible by the rain. ‘But it costed too much effort. Things weren't going smoothly. And maybe we could've worked on it, but I never felt you wanted to. I thought you knew it too.’

‘Well I didn't.’

There fell a silence over you as you took in his words. You really hadn't known the reason and it hurt even more now you did.

‘Can't we just go back to how it was before we got together?’ Harry asked, a hint of desperation in his voice.

You smiled painfully at him. ‘No, we can't. You broke me and I don't know how long it will take to fix me. You can't just go back to the past because it's familiar,’ you spoke. ‘Goodbye Harry.’

You walked away and left Harry behind in the rain.

Yes, you would see him again. In places you had never been, for reasons you would never understand, walking in the wind.

---------------------------------

Taglist:

@kitkatkl @girllety @yuptha-tsme

[sparkandwolf]

In My Body (read on ao3)

Pairing: Stiles Stilinski/Derek Hale & Magnus Bane/Alec Lightwood Rating: General Summary: “Magnus! You’re okay…” Another voice chimed from the doorway, clearly out of breath. Stiles froze when he saw Derek and his heart clenched when he walked straight for him and pressed their lips together. Stiles’ eyes widened and he pushed Derek away with a blast of magic, wondering for a second time that day how in the hell Derek knew Magnus.

“Not Magnus, oh god, I am-- Derek, why are you trying to kiss Magnus?” Stiles asked because he wasn’t about to let that slide without an explanation.

“Because I’m not Derek, I’m Alec,” he said as took a step backward, embarrassment reddening his face as he glanced around the room.

“If you’re Alec, that means--” Stiles turned to Alec’s body and raised an eyebrow in question.

With a sigh, he said, “I’m Derek and I am very confused.”

A gift to one of the greatest people I have had the pleasure of meeting through fandom, @notquiteascrazy!

Stiles wasn’t really sure how it happened; one second he was relaying his daily adventures to Lydia on the phone and the next he was thrown into a swirling hole of magic. When he stumbled out of it, he landed on a hard wooden floor and stars flooded his vision. The pain in his head wasn’t the worst he ever had, but the confusion at being caught in another supernatural booby trap had Stiles’ mind reeling. He had moved to New York for college to avoid getting kidnapped again and Stiles was starting to think his luck was seriously running out.

“Derek didn’t tell me he was so adorable,” a smooth voice chimed from a few feet away. At the mention of Derek’s name in a seemingly friendly way, Stiles was relieved but still utterly confused.

“Well, he wouldn’t because he doesn’t think so,” Stiles retorted, ignoring the laughter that followed. He shook his head to rid the cloudiness in his vision when a beautiful, vibrant man came into view. “How do you know Derek?” Stiles asked because he wasn’t exactly the kind of person he had ever seen Derek hang out with. First off, this man had a smile on his face that could have anyone on their knees in three seconds flat, and secondly, Derek went for the gruff type when he chose his friends if his pack was any indication.

“The Hale pack and I go way back, Mr. Stilinski, farther than Derek and his current pups,” the man said with a noncommittal wave of his hand. “But that’s not important. I got a rather strange phone call from the alpha telling me that one of his human packmates was in immediate danger and that he was cashing in the favor I owed him. Now,” the man said, snapping his fingers before a drink appeared in his hand, “my favors are of insurmountable worth so it has me wondering why you are so important.”

Stiles shook his head as he stood and said, “You and me both, buddy. I’m not in any danger, why would Derek--” Before he could finish his thought, the front door flew open and a man who, at first glance, Stiles thought was Derek, came bursting through the door.

“Magnus! Backup?” The drink that was in the man’s - Magnus’ - hand disappeared and a flurry of blue light replaced it. Stiles was momentarily awestruck by how stunning the glow was until the man who looked like Derek shoved him in the chest and knocked an arrow into place.

“What is it?” Magnus asked as his magic seemed to hiss in the space around him, swirling from blue to red as a sharp howl echoed down the hallway.

“Demon, we think. He’s after something, but we can’t figure out what. He’s never tried to kill us before, just fight us and run,” the man said and Magnus turned to glare at Stiles. He held up his hands in defense and glanced around the apartment to try and find something to use as a weapon.

“What have you brought to us, Stiles?” Magnus said and the other man shot him a questioning glance. “Alexander, meet Stiles, a member of an old friend’s pack. Stiles, this is my husband, Alec,” he introduced quickly and Stiles’ wave was only met with a glare from Alec.

“Is he what the thing wants?” Alec asked and when Magnus nodded, he added, “Why?” Stiles didn’t have time to be offended when the demon finally made itself known. It barely fit through the doorway, the spikes on its spine slicing into the wood to barge into the apartment. Alec fired one arrow and then another, Magnus’ magic enveloping them with a glowing red light. When the arrows sank into the demon, the howl was almost too much for Stiles’ ears to bear.

“Before you ask, I don’t know why either!” Stiles yelled as he jumped behind the couch to avoid a flying spike that flung from the demon’s palm. He grabbed at the side table, breaking off the leg in case he needed it, ignoring Magnus’ unreasonable complaints.

“What do you think you’re gonna do with that?” Alec asked as he crouched behind the couch, readying another arrow for flight.

Stiles shrugged and responded, “Hopefully not die.” Alec gave him a considering glance before taking a deep breath and standing surely. He took careful aim and fired his arrow and the demon’s howl of pain shook the apartment floor. Stiles peeked over the edge of the couch in time for an orange mist to cloud his eyes again. The demon collapsed in defeat but as Stiles reached for Alec, the three of them collapsed and Stiles’ sight went dark.

-------------------------

When Stiles awoke, he was on the other side of the apartment with the worst headache he could ever remember having. Like a flash, the memories of the demon attack and the strangely beautiful pair of husbands surged through his mind and panic overwhelmed him. He felt like he was overheating and scrubbed at his face to wipe the sweat that was dripping down his cheek to find fingertips covered in makeup and facial hair he didn’t recognize. He glanced down at his hands and they were accessorized with rings of all sorts.

“As if this day couldn’t have been strange enough,” Stiles said only the voice didn’t belong to him. In fact, it belonged to Magnus. He turned quickly to see Alec groaning beside him, opening and closing his eyes slowly. When he glanced past, he saw his own form inspecting his hands.

“What the hell is happening?” Stiles yelled, “One of you had better start talking because I am about to--” He felt something rise within him and took a deep breath to calm himself down, thinking it was just another panic attack he had almost grown out of.

“It seems as though we’ve been switched,” his voice soothed. When Stiles glared at himself, the voice explained, “It’s Magnus. I’m in your body and you’re in mine.” Stiles didn’t know how to respond but it didn’t matter because Alec was shooting up from his sitting position, staring down at his hands.

“Magnus? Stiles? What the hell is--”

“Happening?” Magnus guessed, walking over to Alec and cupping his chin in his hand to inspect for injury. “It seems we have a bit of a bodysnatchers situation on our hand, my darling, but don’t you worry your pretty little head about it,” Magnus said, leaning in to kiss Alec comfortingly. Before their lips could meet, Alec’s eyes widened and he backed away quickly with his hands raised.

“Stiles, I--”

“Not Stiles, me Stiles,” he said with a small wave in Alec’s direction.

“Then you’re--”

“Your husband, Alexander. I’m hurt that you don’t recognize the way I speak or the way I hold your face,” Magnus said with a raise of his eyebrow.

“No, you don’t understand,” Alec said, holding out his hands as Magnus took a step closer, “I’m not--”

“Magnus! You’re okay…” Another voice chimed from the doorway, clearly out of breath. Stiles froze when he saw Derek and his heart clenched when he walked straight for him and pressed their lips together. Stiles’ eyes widened and he pushed Derek away with a blast of magic, wondering for a second time that day how in the hell Derek knew Magnus.

“Not Magnus, oh god, I am-- Derek, why are you trying to kiss Magnus? ” Stiles asked because he wasn’t about to let that slide without an explanation.

“Because I’m not Derek, I’m Alec,” he said as took a step backward, embarrassment reddening his face as he glanced around the room.

“If you’re Alec, that means--” Stiles turned to Alec’s body and raised an eyebrow in question.

With a sigh, he said, “I’m Derek and I am very confused.” Stiles let out a huff of laughter and went to run a hand through his hair, flinching when the cold metal on his fingers touched his scalp. “Why am I-- What hap-- Why am I looking at me?” Derek decided, his eyes falling to Alec which shouldn’t have been surprising because at that moment, Alec looked like him, and man, Stiles’ head was really starting to spin.

“Eyes over here, handsome,” Magnus called, waving his hand in a way that looked awkward coming from Stiles’ body. “It seems the little demon problem you were worried about decided to play a trick on us with its last breath.”

“A trick? What do you--” Derek’s eyes widened and Stiles thought it took him long enough to realize what was happening. “Are we all…?” He glanced over at Stiles who shrugged in response.

“You are Alec, Alec is you, I’m Stiles, and Magnus is me. Isn’t this just fun?” Stiles said with a faux grin on his lips. He might have been in New York to escape the supernatural but he was very much a fan of ignoring the problem until it went away and this was a problem he was ready and very willing to disregard.

“What the hell kind of demon does this?” Derek asked as he stood, a bit more wobbly on his feet than was usual for him. Stiles was at his side in a moment, sliding his arm around Derek’s waist to steady him. “And why does my entire body feel like I got hit with a truck?” He added with a wince.

“Because whatever gave the demon the ability to switch us hurts like hell to humans and shadowhunters, apparently,” Magnus said with a wince. Alec was quick to rush to his side, holding his face gently in his hands. For a moment, Stiles was frozen again. He watched as Derek’s - Alec’s - hands stroked over his - Magnus’ - body as if checking for injury and recalled the few times Derek had done that to him before. There was a gentleness to the touch that Stiles had wished for on many occasions and when Alec leaned in to kiss Magnus, he cleared his throat quickly.

“Sucks to not have your magical healing abilities, doesn’t it, fellas?” Stiles joked if only to ease the tension he suddenly felt in his shoulders.

“Oh, I don’t know. Being cared for by a big strong alpha werewolf doesn’t sound so bad,” Magnus said teasingly. Stiles didn’t like the flirtatious inference of the words as they rolled off Magnus’ lips even with the wedding ring weighing heavy on his finger.

“To answer your other question, we’ve never seen it before. The only demon that we know of that has the ability to bodyswap is the magraon demon. Izzy and Underhill are hitting the books now to figure out if that’s what we killed,” Alec chimed in. Derek nodded consideringly and leaned into Stiles’ touch.

“And who am I? Who is… me?” Derek asked, his eyes moving from Alec to Magnus unsure who to look at and seemingly just as uncomfortable seeing his body so close to Stiles’ body as Stiles had been.

“You, my dear, are my dashingly handsome husband, Alec Lightwood, Head of the New York Shadowhunter Institute, and the person who most likely saved your little human over there,” Magnus said with a vague gesture toward Magnus.

“Now that we’ve all been confusingly introduced, is there any way to fix this?” Derek spat and Stiles couldn’t contain the soft laugh that escaped his throat. Derek and Alec looked at him accusingly and Stiles only shrugged and laughed harder.

“I’m sorry, I just-- I don’t think I’d have ever been able to tell the two of you were switched. You’re uncannily similar with how you scowl at me, it’s--” At both of their unamused looks, Stiles licked his lips and glanced at Magnus. “You can’t tell me I’m wrong,” he said. Magnus glanced between the two of them and shrugged.

“I definitely have a type, don’t I?” Magnus said and both Alec and Derek gaped at him. “Relax, my darling, Derek was only ever a gorgeous piece of eye candy to call on when I needed a wolf’s expertise. You know I can’t control how handsome my supernatural contacts are,” Magnus eased with a grin and Alec rolled his eyes and kissed him quickly. Stiles felt like the breath was knocked out of him seeing his lips connect to Derek’s.

“What do we do?” Stiles asked, hoping the desperation in his voice wasn’t too obvious. Magnus glanced over at him with a look on his face that clearly meant he knew something was up with Stiles and raised his eyebrows.

“I will conjure us up some magical texts and cocktails and we can spend the rest of the night trying to figure out how to fix this,” Magnus said and with a snap of his fingers, stacks of books flooded the apartment. “Oh, dear, this is rather excessive,” he said consideringly.

“How can you still do magic with your body over there?” Alec questioned, shock clear in his tone. Stiles had the same question, but seeing his body conjure objects from thin air struck him too dumb to ask.

“I’m honing in on Stiles’ magic, but it doesn’t seem you use it much, huh?” Magnus said before glancing at Derek and adding, “And you told me he was human.”

“He is,” Derek corrected, his eyes darting to Stiles almost accusingly.

Stiles held up his hands in defense and squeaked, “I have no idea what the hell is going on.” Magnus hummed and took a few steps until he was in front of Stiles, holding out his hand. Stiles glanced down at it like it was a predator enticing him into being its next meal and Magnus laughed.

“I’m not gonna bite, Stiles, I just wanna try something,” Magnus said, curling his fingers at Stiles to urge him to grab on. Stiles did as he was asked and the moment their hands connected, he felt fire sizzle in his veins.

“Oh my god,” he whispered, eyes widening. Derek gasped beside him and Alec smirked, crossing his arms over his chest. “Why are you looking at me like that?” He asked Derek in a panic, pulling his hand away from Magnus’ as quickly as he possibly could.

“Your eyes. They were--”

“That of a precious little feline, so I’ve been told. Right, darling?” Magnus interrupted before glancing back at Alec for reassurance.

“Absolutely,” Alec agreed steadily, winking at his husband. They were sickeningly sweet and Stiles was increasingly uncomfortable with having Magnus in his body with Alec around.

“I wanna see!” Stiles yelled, searching the apartment for a mirror. When he found one, he bounded over, his hand instinctively covering his mouth in surprise. “This is the coolest thing that has ever happened to me,” Stiles decided as he turned back around.

“We share a similar magic, Stiles. I was born with mine but from what I can sense, yours was a gift of sorts,” Magnus said softly, turning back toward Derek. “You truly didn’t know?” He asked hesitantly as if worried for Derek. Stiles was briefly warmed at how much Magnus seemed to care for his alpha.

“We didn’t, no idea,” Derek said quickly, “I’ve suspected for a little while that he wasn’t exactly human, but--”

Before Stiles could stop himself, he shouted, “You what?!” Derek winced at the sound and peered guiltily at Stiles. “You’ve suspected? You’ve been spending way too much time around Deaton, Derek. Why didn’t you tell me?” Stiles asked, stepping forward until they were almost toe to toe.

“You said you wanted out, Stiles. I wasn’t about to tell you to stay because I thought maybe you had some magical powers I couldn’t quite explain!” Derek shot back. Stiles went to argue but he realized that Derek had a point. Stiles would have left Beacon Hills whether he knew about the supposed magical ability or not and Derek would have known that. He always knew how Stiles’ mind worked better than anyone else in the pack.

“I didn’t mean to cause a lover’s quarrel…” Magnus muttered as he stepped back into Alec’s arms.

Both Stiles and Derek turned to Magnus and yelled in unison, “We’re not lovers!” Alec and Magnus shared a look that he couldn’t quite figure out before Magnus gestured to the array of books behind them.

“Either way. Stiles’ magic may have given us an answer to how we get back into our bodies and quite frankly, it hurts to see someone that isn’t me wearing my favorite studded jacket,” Magnus commented with clear distaste. Stiles shot him an offended glare before stomping over to the couch and grabbing one of the texts.

“I was promised some alcohol?” Stiles said and Magnus grinned back in response.

-------------------------

Even after a few hours had passed, Stiles still wasn’t used to being in Magnus’ body. He was overwhelmed by the power he felt soaring inside of him and annoyed by the heavy makeup on his eyes and the rings on his fingers. Magnus let him take off all but one, not liking how his wedding ring looked on the side table that he had taught Stiles how to fix with magic. He also wouldn’t let Stiles take off his face full of makeup, but it was pretty easy to deal with until his eyes started to blink more rapidly with fatigue.

The other thing Stiles wasn’t sure he would ever get used to was seeing his and Derek’s bodies so close. Even when they weren’t themselves, Magnus and Alec seemed to have a need to be connected; whether it was their fingers laced together or their thighs pressing against each other or even a reassuring kiss to the other’s shoulder or cheek. Stiles had to watch the way that Derek’s body leaned into his own, nuzzling into his neck while Stiles heard his own bright laughter filter through the air. Knowing the bodies didn’t currently belong to them made no difference.

He sensed Derek’s discomfort beside him and couldn’t help but notice the way that Derek’s eyes seemed to dart to their physical forms with an unreadable expression. They’d been doing research for hours and had made it through most of the books that Magnus had conjured using Stiles’ magic - which was another thing Stiles wouldn’t let himself focus on with everything else going on - and all of them seemed to feel the day catch up to them.

Magnus slammed a book closed and said, “Well, I think that’s enough for one night, don’t you?” Stiles nodded and yawned, stretching his arms above his head and relishing in the crack of his spine. “I’m afraid I only have one spare bedroom but I can show you both over there with no trouble,” Magnus added with a smirk on his face that Stiles really didn’t like.

“You want us to--?” Before Stiles could finish, Derek chimed in.

“I can sleep on the couch!” Disappointment rushed through Stiles, but it only made sense. There had been a handful of times that the two had to sleep in close proximity and unfortunately for Stiles, it was when they were either both kidnapped or pulled into a pack pile on the floor of Derek’s loft in Beacon Hills.

“Don’t be silly, Derek. That couch is a mess!” Magnus noted, gesturing to the aforementioned piece of furniture. It wasn’t a lie by any means; there were still a few spikes sticking out from the cushion, dripping black goo onto the cloth, and as it was, there was no way someone could sleep on it. Luckily, Stiles knew that magic was readily available to them.

“Can’t you wave your hands and magic them away?” Stiles asked his voice filled with pleas. Magnus shook his head and held up his hands, magic sparking from his fingertips like an engine sputtering to start.

“I’ve used your power to its breaking point, it seems, my dear,” Magnus said in mock sadness that Stiles caught onto immediately. He glanced over at Derek and saw a small amount of panic flash through his eyes and sighed heavily.

“Can’t you just… show me?” Stiles asked, holding up his own hands, trying to control the amount of power that surged to his fingertips. Magnus shrugged and grinned at Stiles before stepping behind him and trailing his fingers down Stiles’ arms until their hands rested together. It was oddly intimate and Stiles couldn’t stop himself from glancing between Derek and Alec nervously. He expected Alec to look annoyed at their closeness, but he continued smirking down at the book in front of him like it contained an inside joke no one else was privy to. Derek scowled and crossed his arms over his chest as he stood.

“You have a husband now, Magnus, and you’re still flirting with anything with a pulse?” Derek spat, but Magnus chuckled in response, clearly unphased by Derek’s words, and circled his fingers around Stiles’ wrist.

“Oh, my darling, is that jealousy I hear in those salty words?” Magnus teased and Derek rolled his eyes expertly in return.

���I don’t see why this is necessary. Can he do it or can’t he?” Derek asked sternly.

Magnus shrugged his shoulders and leaned in close to Stiles’ ear to whisper, “What do you think, Little Red? Think really hard about what you want to do on that couch and let the magic guide you.”

Stiles did exactly that. He thought about it being cleaned up and fluffed to the perfect comfort level and imagined an array of soft sheets and blankets covering it for a good night’s rest. He imagined himself peacefully sleeping on the makeshift bed he had conjured for himself and felt the magic bubbling inside of him. He made the mistake of glancing over at Derek to see if he approved and suddenly, his mind went haywire.

As if a grenade went off in his mind, new images appeared. Derek was on top of him, kissing him within an inch of his life, his fingers grabbing onto the sheets Stiles had dreamed up a few seconds earlier. He could hear Derek’s groans and feel their skin sliding together as they touched where they had never felt each other before.

And when Stiles opened his eyes, the couch was burnt to a crisp.

Magnus’ laughter filled the air before he said, “What has my couch ever done to you?” Stiles pulled away from him and glared, but it didn’t seem to phase Magnus. As if he had planned for this to happen, Magnus said delightedly, “I promise the bed in the guest room is big enough for the both of you. Come along now!” He sauntered down the hallway with Alec close behind him, leaving Stiles and Derek alone with the charred couch in front of them.

“I’m sorry, I really tried--” Stiles began, but Derek held up a hand.

“It’s okay. We can stand to share a bed for one night, right? We’ve been pack for half a decade now,” Derek said reassuringly, resting a hand on Stiles’ arm as an attempt to ease his panic. The words were less than comforting because Stiles didn’t need a reminder that he had been practically pining for Derek for over 5 years; he was well aware of that fact, especially with the day’s events as a constant reminder.

“I’m usually a pretty good bed partner, but who knows what Magnus’ body does in its sleep,” Stiles joked, running a hand through his hair nervously. Derek laughed and shook his head, gesturing down the hallway for Stiles to follow the other men.

“At least our bodies are used to sleeping together,” Derek added but that fact did nothing to ease the rapid beat of Stiles’ heart. When they reached the end of the hallway, Stiles felt his cheeks heat with embarrassment as he saw Alec press a gentle kiss to Magnus’ forehead before their lips moved slowly together. Stiles felt his chest ache with longing and his stomach bubble with want at the love in their eyes when they pulled away.

Alec saw them first and backed away, biting down on his lip before he said, “Magnus made up the bed for you. There’s-- We left some of our clothes out so we know they’ll fit you.” Stiles smiled at him and nodded in thanks while Derek sent a gruff okay to them as he walked into the room to grab the clothes before making his way to the bathroom.

“Thank you, guys,” Stiles said before the two men could walk away hand in hand. “I don’t really know what happened today or what is going to happen tomorrow, but you apparently saved my life and I wouldn’t be me if I didn’t make sure you knew I was grateful,” Stiles said truthfully, smiling at Alec and Magnus. Magnus took a step forward and took Stiles’ hands in his, squeezing tightly as his eyes filled with sympathy.

“I cared for Derek’s family and I begrudgingly care for Derek,” Magnus began as a huff of laughter left Stiles’ lips. “I was close with Talia before she passed and I see so much of her strength and resilience in her son, but I also see her distrust and hesitation in him. Talia found that person who pushed her outside of her comfort zone and I have witnessed that in you today, Stiles.” Magnus pulled Stiles into a tight hug and whispered, “Hale’s care deeply about so few - much like my husband over there - but keep being who you are. I can tell Derek is close to letting you in.”

Stiles nodded but stayed silent as the two men walked away. Alec wrapped an arm around Magnus’ waist and pressed a gentle kiss to his temple before they disappeared into their own room for a good night’s sleep. Stiles hoped he would be able to do the same. He heard the bathroom door click open and shuffled into the bedroom, smiling at Derek who had changed into a t-shirt and sweatpants.

“No shower?” Stiles asked, noting his hair was still dry. Derek blushed and shook his head.

“It felt incredibly weird to even get undressed let alone clean a body that isn’t mine,” he said and Stiles’ eyes widened. He hadn’t considered that but the warm shower he had been looking forward to was quickly becoming less and less appealing. He reached for the clothes Magnus had left for him and rolled his eyes when he saw the yoga pants and tank top.

“Magnus and I have very different tastes, but I guess it's his body, his rules,” Stiles noted with a dry chuckle before moving to the bathroom. After he had shut the door, he stared at Magnus’ face in the mirror and took a deep, calming breath. Alright, Stiles, you’ve gotta get it together. This isn’t going to last forever and then you and Derek can go back to your own personal bubbles, Stiles thought to himself, giving the pep talk he needed as he got changed.

He glanced at the full-length mirror and was momentarily grateful for Magnus’ body. Even with magic to do whatever he wanted, he apparently still found the time to keep in shape. He flexed his arms and poked at the muscles before humming appreciatively. Stiles didn’t consider himself out of shape, but he had never truly grown out of his lanky teenage body. Sure, he could take care of himself in a fight, but it didn’t show as much in his arms as it did for Magnus.

With one more readying breath, Stiles opened the door and his heart stopped when he saw Derek under the covers on the bed they were expected to share. It was so domestic in a way that Stiles would never admit to dreaming about and he was truly pissed they weren’t in their own bodies. He shuffled over to the bed and tentatively slid under the sheets as close to the edge of the bed as possible. Derek chuckled beside him and Stiles glared over at him in response.

“What?” Stiles asked as he reached for the lamp beside him to turn off the soft glow that seemed to make his head ache.

“You’re gonna fall off the bed if you stay that far away from me,” Derek said with a raise of his eyebrow. Stiles rolled his eyes and moved an almost microscopic inch closer, staring up at the ceiling as the room went completely dark. He felt Derek mimic his position, both of them on their backs and looking up at nothing, and closed his eyes to try and calm himself.

“This doesn’t have to be awkward, right?” Stiles asked, but before Derek could answer his rhetorical question, he continued. “We just watched our bodies cuddle and kiss for like the entire night so we can sleep together without any qualms,” Stiles muttered, turning his head to glance at Derek. He could barely see the outline of his face, but it was all too noticeable to Stiles that it was Derek who was next to him.

After a few moments of silence, Derek admitted, “This isn’t exactly how I planned to come visit you.” Stiles gaped at him before turning on his side to face Derek.

“You planned to visit me?” He asked softly. He knew that Scott and Isaac had planned a trip and that Lydia was petitioning Jackson to make their summer vacation in New York, but there was no part of him that expected Derek to go that far out of his way.

“Of course I did. It’s hard for an alpha to be far from his-- pack,” Derek responded. Stiles was stuck on the pause, though. He racked his brain to figure out what Derek could have considered saying, but he came up empty. Instead, Stiles considered the words Derek did say.

“Why didn’t you tell me that my leaving would be tough on you? I wouldn’t have--”

“You needed this,” Derek interrupted before Stiles could say anything else. “You’ve been through so much and you had a chance to figure out if being in my pack, being in Beacon Hills even, was how you wanted your future to look,” Derek added. Stiles knew he was right. As much as he wanted to say that he wouldn’t have left if he knew it would hurt Derek, he realized the minute he stepped foot in New York that leaving was exactly what he needed.

What Derek didn’t know was that it solidified Stiles’ place in the pack and his future in Beacon Hills.

“I’ve missed you,” Stiles admitted because he wasn’t sure he could hold it in any longer. Derek let out a breath, turning so he could face Stiles, and even in the darkness, Stiles saw the small smile on his lips.

“Yeah,” Derek agreed, “I’ve missed you, too.”

“And I’m glad you’re here,” Stiles added quickly, “even though you’re not really you right now and I’m not really me. I’m just-- happy to have you here. I guess, if I had to be thrown into another supernatural crisis, I’m glad it’s with you.” Stiles felt a blush creep up his neck and tried to shake it away even if Derek couldn’t really see it. But Derek reached out and cupped Stiles’ cheek in his hand and Stiles was sure he could feel the heat taking over his face.

“When we’re back in our own bodies, there’s something I want to try,” Derek whispered and Stiles nodded slowly in response, his eyes closing as Derek’s thumb stroked across his cheekbone. “I think we both need to sleep, okay?” Derek asked, but Stiles already felt the heaviness of fatigue clouding his mind.

“Yeah,” he muttered, taking a deep breath in before mumbling, “‘Night, Der’k. Love you.”

Stiles thought he heard a whispered, “me too,” before sleep overtook him.

-------------------------

Stiles woke up slowly, his body aching in ways it hadn’t since he’d gotten to New York. He stretched his arms above him and let out a deep breath as his head fell to look at the person beside him.

“Derek, wake up. We’ve got to get going on--” Stiles froze, his eyes widening comically, “--research?”

“Stiles?” Derek asked and it sounded like Derek. The man beside him looked like Derek and when he glanced down, he saw Derek’s arms wrapped around his waist - Stiles’ waist. He untangled Derek’s arms and shot up out of the bed, surging toward the vanity and squealing with delight when he saw his own face staring back at him.

“Oh, thank god,” Stiles said as he glanced back over to the bed. Derek had pulled himself to sitting and was glancing down at his hands in awe, clear relief flooding his features. “We’re us again!” Stiles cheered. “You’re you and I’m me and we’re us again,” Stiles repeated as he felt his body relax for the first time in hours.

“We are,” Derek said as he leaned back against the headboard. He stared at Stiles with a gaze that Stiles couldn’t quite place, but then sleep-clouded memories flashed through his mind. “Caught on yet?” Derek asked, a slightly teasing tone in his voice that had Stiles blushing all over again. He made his way back to the bed and sat cross-legged next to Derek, playing with his fingers that were thankfully void of jewelry again.

Stiles nodded and said quickly, “I was half asleep.” It was a lame excuse considering he was well aware of what he had admitted to Derek the night prior and it was the absolute truth if he was honest with himself. He had known he was in love with Derek since before he left Beacon Hills but to admit it out loud - especially to Derek - was something he had never planned on doing.

“So was I,” Derek agreed. After a moment of uncomfortable silence, he added, “But I meant it. And I do want to try something.” Stiles leaned forward as Derek pushed himself off of the headboard and as if their minds had the same train of thought, their lips connected softly. Stiles could only describe the kiss as tentative, unsure, and possibly the most memorable moment he had ever experienced. Derek’s hand traveled up his arm to cup his cheek as it had the night before and it felt so much better on Stiles’ skin. He leaned into the touch and reached out to rest his hands on Derek’s bare chest, feeling the way his heart beat steadily in his chest, unfaltering unlike Stiles’ that stuttered out of control.

Derek leaned closer and pushed Stiles until he was lying back on the bed, Derek’s body morphing to every curve of his like they were meant to fit together. Analogies of fireworks and puzzle pieces and all of that romantic crap Stiles had never been a fan of burst through his mind as Derek kissed him until they were both breathless. When Derek pulled away, it was only because a throat cleared in the direction of the doorway.

“Well, now that we’ve got that settled, would you two like to join us for breakfast?” Magnus asked as if he hadn’t interrupted the most perfect kiss Stiles had ever had. Derek rested his forehead in the crook of Stiles’ neck with a laugh and Stiles sent a deadly glare in Magnus’ direction. He laughed and snapped his fingers and like magic - Stiles had so many questions - their clean and slightly warm clothes appeared next to them in the bed. “Come along now, boys. You can’t stay in bed forever, especially when that bed in mine,” Magnus said with a wink before floating away.

“We should--” Derek began as he rolled off of Stiles. Before he could get too far, Stiles gripped onto his hand and when Derek turned to see what he wanted, Stiles kissed him one more time. He wasn’t sure he would ever get used to the feeling of Derek’s lips on his, but there was a small part of him that hoped he could just kiss Derek forever and never stop.

“I was always going to come back to Beacon Hills,” Stiles said to make sure Derek didn’t have any questions. “I am part of your pack whether you want me to be or not,” he added with a small smile. Derek grinned back at him and, to Stiles’ surprise, wrapped his arms around Stiles’ waist to pull him into a tight hug. It was an awkward angle and Stiles was sure Derek’s back must have hurt from the way it twisted, but it felt too amazing to have Derek’s arms around him so intimately so he waited for Derek to pull away.

“I want you in Beacon Hills and I want you in my pack, but if that means letting you take some time in New York, then I’ll make as many trips as I need to,” Derek said and it sounded like a promise that Stiles knew he wouldn’t break.

They got up and dressed together, sneaking small kisses and touches when they could before making their way out of the bedroom. Magnus and Alec were sitting on the balcony at a table filled with an array of breakfast foods that had Stiles’ mouth watering and when Magnus saw them, he beamed delightfully.

“Alpha, Little Red, nice of you to grace us with your presence,” Magnus teased with another sly wink as he sipped on a cup of what smelled like very strong coffee. Stiles laughed at the names but slid into the seat beside Magnus happily as Derek walked up to Alec with an outstretched hand.

“Since we didn’t really get to ‘meet’ yesterday, I’m Derek. Thanks for, uh, loaning me your body?” Derek said carefully, shivering as he remembered what it felt like to not be himself. Alec let out a sharp laugh and reached for Derek’s hand, shaking it firmly.

“I’ve been looking forward to meeting you. Magnus has told me all about his history with your family and what a great leader you’ve turned out to be. He neglected to mention how attractive you were, though,” Alec added with a narrow-eyed glance at his husband. Magnus shrugged and held out a plate of pastries to Stiles who grabbed for a chocolate-filled croissant.

“I haven’t seen Derek since he was practically a teenager, Alexander. How was I supposed to know he’d grow up to look like that,” Magnus said, feigning complete innocence. Stiles snorted out a laugh as he ate his pastry, smiling when Derek sat down beside him and rested a hand on his thigh. It had already felt so normal to share space with Derek and he supposed he had Alec and Magnus to thank for that.

“So, do either of you know why we’re back to ourselves again?” Stiles asked because the question was lingering in the back of his mind.

“The only thing my sister could find on the magraon demon is that it can only be summoned by a true mate and it doesn’t usually happen on purpose,” Alec said with a shrug as he sipped his own coffee. Derek’s nails dug into the skin of Stiles’ thigh and he seemed to freeze in his seat.

“I’m sorry, a what?” Stiles asked, his eyes searching Derek’s face. Derek sent a panicked glance to Magnus who smirked in return.

“A true mate, dear,” Magnus repeated, but the phrase wasn’t what Stiles had questions about. Magnus linked his fingers together and crossed his legs before continuing, “True mates are quite rare nowadays. They usually only show themselves when an alpha has an unwanted but great distance between them and the person they desire the most.”

“Come again?” Stiles said breathlessly, his chest contracting with each word. There was something about the words that didn’t really register in Stiles’ brain. It might have been ‘mate’, could’ve been ‘unwanted but great distance’, maybe even ‘the person they desire the most’, but the only alpha Stiles could think of was Derek. He thought back to the pause he decided to brush off earlier and gaped at Derek, smacking his shoulder roughly.

“Ow,” Derek muttered, but nervousness was clear on his face.

“I’m your mate?! And you knew this? And you still let me leave? Without telling me?!” Stiles had so many questions but most of all, he wanted Derek to tell him the truth.

“Mates aren’t what humans think they are,” Derek began with a sigh, holding Stiles’ hands in his. “Wolves mate for life, yes, but the feelings have to be reciprocated. When you decided to leave, it was-- I don’t know-- a test?” Stiles raised his eyebrows hoping his stare would urge Derek to continue his weak explanation. “Time and distance can lessen a mate bond. I figured because you didn’t like me--”

“I did like you, you idiot!” Stiles yelled and Derek had the audacity to chuckle.

“I know that now!” Derek argued and before Stiles one of the other many questions that floated in his mind, Magnus chimed in.

“A true mate arises when neither time nor distance can break the connection between two souls. It’s quite romantic if you ask me,” he noted, but his eyes never left Alec’s. The love they had for each other would have been sickeningly cute to Stiles if he wasn’t so frustrated with Derek.

“So, we’re mates,” Stiles said.

“True mates,” Alec corrected and both Stiles and Derek glared at him. He shrugged and pouted as Magnus started clearing the table, shuffling over to place a chaste kiss on his husband’s lips.

“We’re true mates, then. What does that… mean?” Stiles asked, tilting his head at Derek.

“It means that, if you choose to accept the bond, you’re stuck with me forever,” Derek said carefully and Stiles narrowed his eyes.

“And if I don’t?” Stiles asked, but Derek hesitated a moment too long and Magnus sighed from where he had his arms wrapped around Alec’s neck, his chin resting on the top of his husband’s head.

“If you don’t, Derek will live out a life of loneliness, never truly feeling whole until the day that he meets his bitter end,” Magnus explained with a noncommittal shrug of his shoulders.

Stiles inhaled sharply and whispered, “But no pressure, though.” Derek squeezed his hands and nodded, making sure his eyes connected with Stiles’.

“There is no pressure. I have no doubt in my mind that you’re my true mate and that for some reason, we’re fated to be together. Even if it takes you years, I’ll never stop waiting,” Derek said seriously and Stiles would have melted if it wasn’t for the chorus of ‘awe’s that left Magnus’ and Alec’s lips. Derek shot a fiery glare at them before turning back to Stiles with so much love in his eyes, Stiles wasn’t sure how to handle it.

“Why don’t we start with a date? Have you ever walked through Central Park?” Stiles asked as he wrapped his arms around Derek’s neck, “It’s like the preserve but fancier.” Derek laughed and shook his head, placing a delicate kiss on Stiles’ lips. “Well, we’ll start there,” Stiles decided, a large grin taking over his face.

“Mind if we crash? Alec here refuses to do the touristy venues with me but I’d bet he’d come along if you asked nicely,” Magnus teased as he pressed a soft kiss to Alec’s cheek.

“The more the merrier, right, Derek?” Stiles asked and Derek, of course, begrudgingly agreed.

Stiles couldn’t stop the smile that widened on his face as his eyes met Derek’s once more. Derek’s grin was wide as he listened to Magnus tease Alec relentlessly while Alec’s face held barely a hint of annoyance. Looking at them had Stiles thinking about the future; more importantly, his future with Derek. He wondered if he and Derek would ever feel for each other what Magnus and Alec had so clearly, but then Derek smiled over at him and brought his hand to his lips, and Stiles thought maybe they already did.

[babybottlepop96]

A/N: a cute mini fic with Alastor from Hazbin Hotel! SFW

Word Count: 851

YOUR POV

I remembered it like it was yesterday, the day we met. I was just some loney (demon type), demon, working in a Cafe owned by one of the Elite Socialites in Pentagram. He was different, his aura was... Dark. But I always was attracted to the more bad boy type, the ones who didn't give a shit and never cared about what they did, who would give the finger to anyone who told them no. But he was a bit different, charming, a gentleman. They way he would be polite even with a sinister smile, half of what I went for and half of something I never knew I needed in my dead life. 

"Hey, Al! Whatcha want?!" The famous pornstar, and my most frequented customer, Angel Dust, called from the counter.

"I don't find that I care." The red deer demon, that I now know as Al, said. His grin was bigger than ever but the tone of his voice was a bit creepy, but Angel Dust didn't seem to give a rats ass. 

"Two strawberry chocolate frappes, frozen, double the fresh strawberries and extra whipped cream with white chocolate drizzle on top." Angel said, even though I had his order memorized. I added the other one and smiled at him.

"They'll be done in about five minutes, on the house." I smiled at him and he grinned back. 

"Thanks, Doll. This is why you're my favorite." He patted my head and went to sit next down to Al. I paid the bill and cleaned up the counters. After a few minutes, I grabbed the drinks and walked them over to Angel and Al.

"Here you go, enjoy." I smiled and caught the eye of the one called Al. He looked at me like he could devour me alive and I shivered at the thought. 

"Thank you my dear." He took a sip and his face scrunched up in disgust. "My, Angel, what in Hell did you order?!" I couldn't help the giggle that escaped my mouth.

"I take it you're not a sweets fan? How about a cup of regular black coffee?" I offered and he smiled at me.

"That sounds much better, thank you dear." I nodded and walked off to grab the new order. As I walked back, I noticed that Angel Dust had disappeared and Al was left to himself, humming to himself.

"Here you go, sir." I placed the mug down and he gestured to the seat across from him.

"Would you please sit?" I looked confused for a second but decided to do it anyway. Fuck the rules. 

TIME SKIP

Everyday since that day, Alastor had come in during my break and we could talk about everything. Mainly him and his hobbies and his contribution to the Hazbin Hotel. I didn't mind though, I loved hearing his voice. It was so… how do you say it? Soothing, comforting almost, the radio filter reminded me of the old movies I used to watch with my grandfather when we were both still alive. "So, (y/n), would you like to accompany me to the ball we are throwing at the Hotel next weekend?" He asked suddenly. I sat there shocked, taking in his words. He wants me to go with him to a ball? As I sat there, he just stared back and smiled, patiently waiting for an answer.

"I… I would love to." I smiled. "I'll just have to make sure it's okay with the boss and-" but I was cut off.

"Do not fret about that, darling. He won't mind, especially after he sees that I'm the one you will be going with." He smiled and I just smiled back. This was going to be fun.

TIME SKIP

ALASTORS POV

I awaited the beautiful (y/n) to arrive, standing by the front door and greeting the party attendees. Suddenly, (y/n) arrived wearing the most beautiful scarlet red dress I've ever laid my eyes on. The strapless sweetheart neckline, the way it hugged her midsection and then gracefully flowed to the floor, slitted up the side of her right leg stopping mid thigh. The way the lights caught the mild sparkles making it shine as if she were a movie star. If I had a heart, I'm sure it would've stopped beating at the sight of her. Absolute radiance, pure beauty at its finest.

"Alastor?" I was snapped out of my thoughts when I saw her face looking up at me, her cheeks tinted a light pink. 

"I'm sorry, darling. I was just entranced by your beauty." I smiled and she blushed even more and looked down. Yes, absolutely radiant. We danced the night away, from slow to swing and everything in-between. I felt…. Lighter. How do the youngster's say it? On cloud nine! I didn't know what this feeling was called, but I know I've seen it before. Adoration? Love? All of the above? I wasn't sure, but I did know I wanted to be around this beautiful creature for the rest of eternity. My own charming demon belle.

[masterofmunson]

falling

Harry Styles x Fem!Reader

Summary: Falling for someone means you have to accept the inevitability of heartbreak. Too bad you’re too stubborn and proud, and a bit scared to accept it, even if it’s about Harry.

Warnings: language and angst

Word Count: 6k+  

AUTHOR’S NOTE: There may be a part two if this fic is well received! enjoy and tell me what you think! 

He watches you carefully. The music fills Harry’s hotel room as you stare at the blank TV in front of you. He’s studying your reaction carefully. He doesn't want to hear your opinions about the album until you’ve listened to it all the way through. It would be the first time hearing most of the songs on the album and you were excited to hear each song. What you hadn’t expected was for the album to make you cry. You had to take a small pause after listening to Falling. 

“What is it, love?” Harry’s voice is soft and he reaches for your hand, squeezing it gently. It sends a jolt through your body. You look at him with tears in your eyes. It blurs your vision and you take a deep breath. 

You know Harry loved Camille. She made him happy when they were together, it was clear on his face whenever you saw him. It didn’t matter that you had a feeling she was using him for fame and money. He was happy, and you learned to be happy for him, despite how much it hurt. 

Flashes of the break up are at the forefront of your mind. Harry’s red rimmed eyes and swollen cheeks as he mourned the breakup and drank himself stupid. The way his hands wandered on your hips when you were both a little too drunk to care and the way you felt afterwards. You pushed the memory to the back of your mind. It didn’t mean anything. You were both drunk and you wouldn’t allow yourself to be a rebound, despite how much you enjoyed feeling his hands on you. 

You let out a small, nervous laugh. You swallow hard and tear your gaze from his to look out the window. “I’m sorry,” you whispered. 

Harry’s eyes pinch together in confusion and he reaches to hold your chin. He forces you to look at him and he brushes away your tears. “Why in the world are you sorry? You have nothing to be sorry for.”

“You were so heartbroken. I should’ve done more to be there for you, to be a better friend. I should’ve told you the truth. I should’ve been honest.”

Harry stares at you with an unreadable expression on his face. “What are you talking about?” 

“I never liked her. When I first met her, something was off. I couldn’t tell what it was, but now after listening to just this portion of the album, it makes sense. I didn’t say anything because I wanted you to be happy and you were, despite how I felt about her.”

Silence falls between the two of you and you swallow hard. You let out a nervous breath and break away from Harry’s intense stare. 

“What are you getting at?”

Your eyes plead with his. You don’t want to say it. Not to him. You’re just digging yourself a deeper hole that you can’t get out of. “She used you, Harry. She got what she wanted from you and then she threw you away like you were trash. She’s a golddigger.”

“You don’t know what happened,” is his curt reply. 

You roll your eyes at him and scoff. “Yeah, but I can certainly guess. You wrote an entire album about her.” 

Harry glares at you and pulls his hand away from your skin. You let out a nervous breath. You didn’t mean for it to come out like that. You are not jealous of Camille. She broke his heart. You never want to put him in that kind of pain. 

“Are you jealous? She’s my ex, you’re just my friend!”

“No!” you shout at him, shaking your head. “I just never want to see the pain that she put you through! It broke my heart! I didn’t know what to do to help you! I love you, Harry. You’re my best friend. I care about you. I just hate what you went through. That’s it. It came out wrong. I’m sorry,” you apologize, standing up from your spot on the bed. You reach for your phone, wallet, and hotel key from the bedside table. 

“Where are you going?” Harry asks you. “You haven’t finished listening to the album and it’s late.”

“I need to get some air. I’ll be back later,” you tell him, fighting back tears before opening the hotel door and disappearing out of Harry’s view. 

The second you step into the elevator, a sob escapes your throat. You bite on your knuckles to keep the noise down and you hate yourself for it. You just want what’s best for Harry. You want him to be happy, and you want him to be happy with you. You want to be the reason he laughs and smiles everyday. You want him to love you as deeply as you love him, despite the fact that you mask it as friendship. 

Making your way through the lobby, you step outside and make your way to the park you drove by earlier in the day. You take a seat in front of a water fountain, watching the water flow out of the top and crashing into the bowl beneath it. Lights shine on the inside of the fountain and despite the fact you’re in southern California, you shiver against the cold night. You should’ve brought your jacket with you. Silent tears coat your cheeks as you cry. 

You pull out your phone from your back pocket and stare at the screen. It’s an old photo of you and Harry that Anne took of the two of you just after the last One Direction concert. You’re grinning from ear to ear and Harry’s arms wrap around your torso, holding you close. You let out a careful breath and open the music app, finding Harry’s album in your library. You press play and listen to the rest of the album in the quiet park. Another wave of tears fall upon your face once you finish listening to Fineline. You just want to give Harry a hug and tell him that he deserves the world. 

Wiping away your tears with the back of your hand, you let out a breath before standing up from the park bench and heading back to the hotel. Stepping into the elevator, you press the button for your floor before the doors close. 

When the doors open again, you walk down the hall and hesitate when you pass Harry’s room. You backtrack and stand at the door. You let out a careful breath before knocking softly. The door is nearly ripped off its hinges at the force Harry puts behind him. Your eyes meet his and you swallow hard. You don’t know what to say, so instead, you throw your arms over his shoulders and hug him as tightly as you can. Harry lets out a soft grunt before his arms snake around your torso, pulling you closer. He drags you into his dimly lit room before closing the door. 

Neither of you say anything. You just hold each other in a warm embrace. His grasp tightens and you breathe him in. Your damp cheeks touch his neck. You pull back just enough so that his arms are still secure around you and your eyes meet. 

“You deserve the world, Harry,” you whisper to him, feeling another wave of tears creep their way to the corners of your eyes. Your breath fans over his warm cheeks. He grins. “You deserve someone that will treat you right. You deserve someone that doesn’t use you for money or fame. You deserve to be happy.”

Harry smiles and hugs you tightly. He presses a kiss to your forehead. “So I take it that you listened to the rest of the album?”

You nod your head. “It’s amazing, Harry. I love it. You did a fantastic job. You’re going to kill it at the concert.”

Harry laughs and you gently pull yourself out of his gentle grasp. You can’t let your heart wander too much.  “Thanks, honey.” 

You snort and gently pat him on the chest. “You’re welcome, H.”

He captures your hand in his and threads your fingers together. He kisses your knuckles and gently brushes a loose strand of hair out of your face. It makes you breathless and you swallow hard, staring at him with wide eyes. Your heart starts to beat a mile a minute the longer he stares at you. 

“I--um, I should go. You need to get some rest. You have a big day ahead of you. I’ll see you in the morning,” you stutter, stepping away from his warm grasp towards the door. Harry’s face noticeably falls and you bite the inside of your cheek, feeling bashful and embarrassed. 

Harry nods his head in agreement. He takes a step away from you and rings his fingers together before scratching at the back of his neck nervously. “Right, right. I’ll--uh, I’ll see you in the morning for breakfast. Goodnight, darling,” he tells you, leaning to kiss your cheek. His lips brush against the warm skin and you swallow hard before bolting out the door to your room. 

...

Breakfast is awkward in the morning. Everyone is eating in a private room and you’re sitting across from Harry typing away at your computer and drinking coffee. You still had finals for your grad program for med school. After the concert, you would be on the next flight back to Johns Hopkins University. You could barely sleep last night after what happened between you and Harry, so instead, you stayed up and studied for your finals. 

Sarah nudges your shoulder and you glance over at her. “How long have you been up?” she asks you with a growing smirk. 

“What do you mean?” you ask, taking a bite out of your bagel. You blink rapidly and take another sip of coffee. 

“Did you study all night?”

You grown. “Is it that obvious?” you grumble, reluctantly closing your laptop and leaning back in your chair. She chuckles and glances over at Harry. 

“You have one lucky friend here, Harry. Can’t believe you made her come to the concert when she’s studying to be a doctor!” Sarah teases, sticking out her tongue. 

“Oi! I made her do no such thing. I told her she didn’t have to come because I knew she had finals. She’s a stubborn little thing and insisted on coming to support her very best friend,” Harry retorts with a mouthful of cereal. 

You bite the inside of your cheek and roll your eyes at him. Warmth spreads across your cheeks and a weird feeling twists inside your tummy. “Shut it, Harry. It’s a special occasion!” 

He grins, taking another bite of cereal and you finish the rest of your bagel. You talk tiredly amongst yourselves until Harry’s pulled away to do a phone interview. You smile encouragingly at him before taking your laptop and heading out to the pool to study. Despite the early morning chill, it’s sunny outside. 

Pulling out your headphones, you put Harry’s album on shuffle before opening your laptop. You relax against the pool chair and stretch out your legs. You pull up a number of documents before reading through your work. 

A few hours pass before a hand gently presses itself against your shoulder. You grunt sleepily, turning to face the other way. A chuckle reaches your ears. 

“Time to get up, doctor,” Harry teases, shaking you again. 

You sit up suddenly, rapidly rubbing your eyes. “Shit,” you cursed. “I don’t remember falling asleep. What time is it?”

He grins, gently moving your legs so he can sit with you. Your hair is nearly all out of the bun you put it in earlier in the day. You look absolutely adorable. “Almost two.”

“Ah, fuck. I should’ve studied somewhere else.”

“Heyyyyy,” he draws out, poking you in the leg playfully. “Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’ll do great on your finals. I believe in you. It’s okay to sleep.”

You smile softly at him and gently shove his shoulder. “What’ve you been up to, rock star?”

He groans, leaning his body weight on top of you. It makes you giggle. Heat spreads across your body and you swallow hard. His loose brown curls brush against your face. You bite the inside of your cheek. 

“Stop that. It’s just Harryyyy,” he whines. 

“What, so you can call me by my future profession but I can’t call you yours?” you tease, gently shoving his chest. He pulls himself back to look at you. “I can call you Mr. Baker if you want? Maybe you still have a position at that bakery you worked at as a kid. You are Harry Styles, after all.”

He grumbles under his breath, rolling his eyes at you. He sits up and you wrap your headphones around your phone before hugging your laptop to your chest and walking out of the pool with Harry by your side. His arm brushed against yours and a jolt runs through your body. 

“Will you come visit over holiday break?” Harry asks you as the two of you step into the elevator. 

You turn to look at him. “To LA? Harry, I—”

He shakes his head. “No. To England. Gemma and my mom would love to see you. You haven’t been in ages.”

You bite the inside of you cheek. The reason you haven't was because you felt like you were crossing a line you shouldn’t whenever he had a girlfriend. You don’t want to be the reason women break up with Harry because of how close you are with him and his family. 

You let out a careful breath. “I dunno, H. Flights are expensive and I saved up just enough to come here and then have enough money saved for gas to drive home to New York to be with my family.”

“I’ll pay.”

You shake your head. “I can’t ask you to do that. It’s too much”

“It can be your Christmas gift.”

You raise a brow at him. “Harry, I—”

“Hey, Harry, you have another phone interview in ten minutes,” Jeff approaches the two of you in the lobby as you stand in front of the elevator. Harry sighs and you smile apologetically at him. You nudge his shoulder gently. 

“Go on, rockstar. We’ll continue this conversation later,” you tell him before stepping into the elevator. He smiles at you warmly before the doors close. 

You let out a careful breath and lean back against the elevator wall. You shake your head. You can’t entertain the thought of Harry’s bright smile and gentle, lingering touch. 

Entering your hotel room, you relax your shoulders and set your computer on the desk beside the TV. Crawling into bed, you pull the comforter up to your chin and close your eyes. You fall into a restless slumber. 

You’re woken up sometime later to a gentle knock on the door. You groan, annoyed that you’ve been woken up. 

Kicking off the comforter, you walk to the door and pull it open. Harry laughs. 

“You went back to bed?”

You roll your eyes and open the door more so he can step inside. He grins and makes himself at home on your bed. You open up the blinds and grab your computer before joining Harry on the bed. 

“What are you wearing for the show tonight?” Harry asks you. 

You shrug. “Something in my suitcase.”

Harry rolls his eyes and shoves you gently. “Okay, smartass.”

You giggle and grin at him. He reaches for your sides and tickles you. You let out a surprised scream and Harry laughs. His fingers poke your sides and you shove at his chest. 

“I need to study! You’re being distracting. You can pick out what I should wear. You’re the fashion expert.”

Harry climbs off the bed and scurries over to your suitcase. He pulls out a baby pink dress and throws it at you. You roll your eyes. 

“You want me to wear a dress? I’m going to be dancing the whole time, H.”

He grins, holding it up for you to look at. “It’ll look good on you, pet. You should wear it.”

You bite the inside of your cheek, smiling bashfully. He always makes you feel beautiful. “Fine, just because you’re being nice I’ll wear it.” 

Harry grins and throws the dress at you. You laugh and he climbs back on the bed. You turn your attention back to your computer as you look over your study guide. Harry’s scrolling through his phone before you feel his eyes on you again. You turn to look at him and he grins. 

“What?” you ask him with a raised brow. You close your laptop and smile gently at him. 

“I’m just glad you’re here. I know you’re stressed about finals, but it means the world to me that you took the time to come out. Thank you,” he answers sincerely. You grin in reply and shove him gently. 

“You’re welcome, Harry. I’m glad I could make it out. This is a special night and I wanted to be here for it.”

Your hand brushes against his and you jump when there’s a knock at the door. You climb out of bed and open the door. You’re met with Sarah standing outside with an eager smile. 

“You busy?” she asks you. 

“Not currently, no.” 

“Good. You’re coming with me.”

Sarah grabs your arm, tugging you out of the room, leaving Harry behind. The door shuts loudly behind you as she pulls you down the hall into her room. 

“Do you mind telling me what’s going on?” 

She steps towards her suitcase and pulls out a floral blouse. She throws it at you and you catch it against your chest. You hold it out to look at it and you raise a brow at her. You shake your head. 

“Respectfully, Sarah, I won’t be caught dead in this blouse. Nothing holds the shirt together! My boobs will fall out!” you tell her, feeling your face grow hot. 

She grins, laughing at you. “I bought this with you in mind. It’s your size. You’re wearing it.”

You raise a brow at her and cross your arms over your chest. “Why did you get me this shirt? Why do you want me to wear it?”

“Consider it a gift for finishing the semester.”

“Sarah. What’s going on?”

Sarah groans, stepping towards you and shaking your shoulders. “It’s so obvious that Harry has feelings for you. I’m trying to work my magic.”

Your eyes widen and you laugh uncomfortably. You shake your head. You take a gentle step away from Sarah. You swallow hard. “No he doesn’t. We’ve been friends for years. It’s not like that. It’ll never happen,” you tell her firmly. Your heart starts to race and the blood rushes up your neck. “I don’t see him like that,” you lie. 

Sarah frowns. Her shoulders deflate in disappointment and she sighs. Her eyes meet yours in a gentle gaze. “You guys would be so good together. You bring out the best in him.”

You laugh again, biting the inside of your check. You nod. “Thanks for the gift, Sarah. I’ll see you later.”

You open the door and nearly topple over Harry. He’s standing right outside the door and the wind is knocked out of you. Harry laughs softly, steadying you with a gentle grasp on your arms. You swallow hard and your eyes meet his. 

“You okay, Doc?” he laughs. 

You nod your head. “Yup. I’m perfect,” you stutter before squeezing out of the room. You scurry to your room again and slam the door shut. You let out a sigh of relief before throwing the blouse on the bed before stepping into the bathroom to take a cold shower. 

The cold water sends shivers down your spine as you stand under the shower head. You wash your hair and body before stepping out of the shower. Drying off, you change into a pair of tight black jeans. You stare at the blouse on your bedside and groan. You carefully slip on the piece of fabric, adjusting it over your chest so your nipples don’t show. You let out a careful breath before stepping into the bathroom to do your hair and makeup. 

You stare at yourself in the mirror. You’re shocked to say the least. You’re known for dressing fairly modest. Hell, you want to be a doctor. Your wardrobe consists of a plethora of dress pants and modest blouses. You dress professionally. You’re not meant to stand out. You’re boring. 

The shirt fits you well, showing off your cleavage. It matches well with your eyes. 

You do your hair and makeup like you normally do, concealer for your blemishes and a light coat of mascara, and let your hair down naturally. Music plays softly from your phone as you apply chapstick. Your phone dings. 

Harry: you almost ready to go? 

You’re quick to respond. 

Y/n: yes, mister. let me grab my purse. i’ll meet you in the lobby. 

Harry: ok miss grouchy >:( 

You laugh, shaking your head. You bite the inside of your cheek. 

Y/n: ok goober. 

You slip your phone into your back pocket and turn off the bathroom light. Grabbing a light jacket, you slip it on and zip it up, hiding the blouse underneath. You slip on a pair of old tennis shoes before grabbing your purse and heading out the door to the lobby. 

You’re the last one to the lobby. Harry’s waiting on one of the couches near the reception desk. He’s dressed in a plain t-shirt and jeans. He grins at you and stands up, greeting you with a warm hug before linking his arm through yours. It momentarily caught you off guard, but you ignore it. 

…

“Good luck, H,” you whispered to him as everyone filed out of his dressing room. “It’s not like you need it. The fans will love it.”

He laughs and you carefully rest your hands at your sides. You resist the urge to rest them on his chest or shoulders. You can’t cross any boundaries. You’re just friends. 

“Thanks. I’m a bit nervous,” he laughs anxiously, biting the inside of his cheek. You smile reassuringly at him and hug him gently. His arms wrap around your torso and he squeezes tightly. It makes your heart race. 

“You don't need to be,” you mutter in his ear softly. “The songs are amazing. You’ll kill it out there like always.”

His soft laughter sends a shiver down your spine. He pulls away, but leaves his hands on your waist. Your eyes meet and you lean to press a kiss to his cheek. 

“For good luck.”

His face flushes a warm pink and his forehead rests against yours. He grins cheekily. “You missed,” he states. 

“What do you mean I missed?” you ask. Your brows pinch together in confusion. You lean back to get a better look at him. 

Harry laughs, reaching to caress your face. Your face burns with warmth as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear. He tilts his head. “If you want to kiss me, you can ask,” he answers, his mouth brushing against yours. 

Your eyes widen and your face burns. You hadn’t expected that kind of an answer with his mouth nearly on yours. It makes you weak in the knees. Harry wants to kiss you. Your best friend wants to kiss you. The most sought out rock star on the face of the planet wants to kiss you. 

“Harry,” you whispered softly, gently scratching the base of his neck. 

He grins at you and it makes your insides jump. 

The door to the dressing room opens and you jump away from him, far enough so that whoever is on the other side of the door doesn’t suspect that you and Harry were about to kiss. Jeff peeks his head into the door before pushing it open. You hold your arm awkwardly and stare at the floor. Your face burns with embarrassment. 

“Oh, sorry,” Jeff apologizes with a soft smile. “You’re on in five, Harry.”

That’s your cue to leave. You bite the inside of your cheek. “See you after the show, H,” you tell him before slipping out of the room. You don’t wait for a response. You’re too embarrassed. You don’t want to admit you nearly kissed Harry and he wanted you to. 

You disappear down the hall without looking back. 

… 

You couldn’t focus on Harry’s performance. Your mind was elsewhere the entire show. It didn’t matter if you were dancing and singing along to the music. You wanted to act like what Harry said had no effect on you. 

Once the show’s over and you make it back stage, Harry’s chatting with the band and the rest of the crew. Stevie Nicks stands nearby and you're star struck. 

Harry grins at you, pulling you in for a sweaty hug like nothing had happened before the show. You laugh softly, gently patting his back before pulling away. Harry sips at his water before speaking. 

“So, what did you think?” Harry asks you, taking a breath. 

You laugh. “You did great, Harry. The crowd ate everything up as expected,” you answer, complimenting him. You stick your hands in your jacket pockets. You didn’t have the courage to take it off during the show. He bites the inside of his cheek. 

“Thanks, Doc.”

You nod as he walks around, shaking hands with everyone. You try your best to disappear into the background. You watch Harry and the band laugh with each other. Stevie Nicks hugs Harry before walking out the back. You feel out of place and you’re tired. You’re not meant to be here. You should be studying for a final you have on Monday and packing for your flight in the morning. 

You sigh quietly. The thought of being with Harry in whatever aspect scares you shitless, despite how much you want it. Fans will eviscerate you. You’re not good enough. You’re not pretty enough. You’re a golddigger because you’re in school. 

Besides, you’re not Harry’s type. He likes older women and you’re two years younger than he is. You’re not conventionally attractive like all the women he’s been with. You’re not famous either. 

Plus, if you were together and things went south? The chances of him writing songs about you and painting a picture that you were to blame like he had with Camille are high. You don’t want to be another Camille. 

“Hey, are you okay?” Sara asks you, sipping at her water carefully as she looks at you. Her brows are pinched together in concern. 

You blink out of your daze and smile at her. You nudge her playfully. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking of all the things I need to get done when I get back to the hotel.” 

She laughs. “Well, that’ll have to wait until after we go out and celebrate!”

You laugh too and nod. 

“This jacket needs to go!” she exclaims, reaching for the zipper. “Show off your hot bod!” 

You roll your eyes and pull the jacket off. You drape it over your arm and spin around, showing off the shirt to her. She whistles and you laugh joyfully. 

“You’re absolutely gorgeous! This is beautiful on you,” she compliments you, smiling genuinely at you. 

You grin and curtsy at her. “Why, thank you. My friend has impeccable taste,” you grin as you hug each other. 

Harry glances over at the two of you. He momentarily forgets how to breathe. Your eyes meet momentarily and you scrunch your nose at him playfully. It makes his heart race. 

… 

An hour or so later, you arrive at a hole in the wall club that celebrities often frequent. The music is loud and smoke fills the room. It smells of alcohol and marijuana as you enter the building. 

You follow Harry into a sectioned off portion of the club as he walks straight to the counter. It’s set up with beer and champagne. Harry hands you a flute of champagne. You thank him quietly as the rest of the band as well as Jeff and a few other record executives grab glasses too. 

You cheer and congratulate Harry before sipping out of your glass. You watch Harry finish the drink and reach for a beer. 

“You want one?” he asks you. You politely decline and he shrugs. 

He takes your hand and drags you to the dance floor with the beer in his hand. You laugh and carefully put the champagne glass down. You have no desire to be hungover for your flight tomorrow morning. 

You dance for what feels like hours. You’re sweaty and hot as you dance with Harry. The two of you shout the lyrics playing overhead as you dance. It makes your heart race with adrenaline. Harry spins you around and you throw your head back and laugh loudly. You lose your balance, stumbling over Harry and he laughs, carefully catching you at the waist. Some of his beer spills on your jeans. 

Your grip on him is tight as he pulls you up. Your throat tightens as your eyes meet and flicker to his pink lips. You swallow hard.  

Harry’s hands tighten on your waist and you bite the inside of your cheek. His hand moves to your cheek and he brushes your hair behind your ear. Warning bells blare in your ears the closer his mouth gets to yours. It doesn’t matter that he’s looking at you like you’ve hung the moon. You can’t. You can’t let things change. 

You gently place your hand on his chest, creating distance between the two of you. You shake your head. The dressing room flashes in your mind. That was too close. 

Harry frowns and you can barely breathe. You have to get out of here. You can’t be this close to Harry in this way. It scares you too much. 

You turn your back to him and run out the door. Harry shouts your name, running after you. Anxiety runs through you. 

The door screams open as you stumble out of the club. It’s cooled off drastically since this morning. It makes you shiver. You left your jacket inside and you have no desire to go back in and get it. You need to get the hell out of here and away from Harry before you say or do something stupid. 

“Y/n, wait!” Harry shouts, reaching for you. You spin around and stare at him. 

“Why?” you ask him, raising a brow at him. 

“Why what?” 

“Why were you going to kiss me?” 

Harry stares at you and says nothing. He rocks back on his heels uncomfortably as you stare at him. He stutters, biting the inside of his cheek. 

“I thought you were going to kiss me before the show so I thought, since I think our feelings are mutual, that I would kiss you,” he answers, looking to his right. 

You blink twice and step back. “You have feelings for me?”

He stares at you, nodding with flushed cheeks. He grins, taking a step towards you. You take another step back. He frowns. “Of course I do. I love you.”

Your heart stops. You feel like you can’t breathe. “Since when, Harry?” you snapped. Anger runs through you. How dare he say he loves you. He hasn’t given you the slightest hint that he has feelings for you or that he loves you romantically. “Why are you acting like I should’ve known?”

“I always have,” he answers with a gentle gaze. 

You roll your eyes and scoff in disbelief. “Yeah, right. You have a funny way of showing it. You just wrote an entire album about your ex girlfriend whom you told me that you loved. How the fuck am I suppose to believe you when you haven’t shown the slightest interest in me? I’m not your fucking type, Harry,” you spat. “I’m younger than anyone you’ve been with. I’m not fucking famous or conventionally attractive. Why the sudden interest now? Are my feelings for you that fucking obvious?” 

“Why does that matter? I’m not with her anymore!” Harry argues, raising his voice. “Why are we arguing? I want to be with you and I think you want to be with me!”

You shake your head. “Well I don’t!” you shout. 

“Why? What’s holding you back? Why are you so afraid?”

“I don’t want to be another Camille! I don’t want you writing all these vulnerable sad songs that paint me as a monster for breaking your heart if things go south. I’m scared shitless. I’m scared that I’ll be reduced to a handful of songs instead of having people coming to their own conclusions about me when they meet me. Your fans will eviscerate me. They already do.”

Silence falls between the two of you and tears form at the corners of your eyes. You can barely breathe. Your chest hurts. 

He takes a step away from you. 

“You think that lowly of me? You think I’ll try to ruin your reputation?”

You wipe a tear of frustration off your face. “That’s exactly what you did to Camille. Has it really not crossed your mind what your fans are saying about her right now? They’re eviscerating her like they will with me. They already think I’m not worth your time anyway.”

He shakes his head. Tears linger in his eyes. “Stop it! I love you! I want to be with you! Stop pushing me away because you’re scared!” he shouts. “You don’t mean any of it.”

“Yes I do! We’ll never work, Harry. I’m in school. I have clinicals and residency and so many other things I have to do to be who I want to be. You’re touring and always traveling. I can never drop work to visit or see you. I have to make sacrifices if I want to be a doctor. Our jobs will get in the way of a healthy, meaningful relationship. I can’t do that to you. You need someone that will always be there for you. I don’t want you.”

Silence falls between the two of you as you stare at each other. Tears coat his cheeks. You let out a careful breath. You swallow hard. The silence is deafening. You don’t know what else to say. You broke his heart. 

“So is this it, then?” Harry asks you, breaking the silence. He wipes at his face with the back of his hand. His eyes plead with yours. He just wants you and you’re doing everything in your power to drive a wedge between the two of you. 

You sniff quietly, nodding carefully. “It’s what’s best, Harry.”

He sighs in defeat, laughing bitterly. He shakes his head in disbelief. Harry rolls his eyes and scoffs, despite the lingering tears. “Right, because being happy is so far out of reach.”

“Harry—”

“No, you don’t get to Harry me, Y/n. You’re scared. I get that. I understand. I feel the same way, but what you don’t get to do is pretend that hurting me is what’s best because you’re too much of a coward to admit that you love me just as much as I love you,” he spat, interrupting you. 

His sudden outburst startles you and you don’t know what else to say. You’ve already broken his heart. You’ve already pushed him away. You did what you had to. 

“Have a safe flight home”

He turns his back on you, returning to the club. You stare at his retreating figure and let out a staggered breath of air. He turns his head one last time to look at you. You hold your breath, watching him open his mouth. 

“Oh, and don’t worry,” he says with a watery smile, “I won’t write a song about this. It’s not worth the pain you’ve already put me through.”

The door to the club is pulled open as he steps inside once more. It slams shut as you stare at the black door littered with stickers and graffiti. 

You order an Uber after walking a block. When the driver arrives, you climb in silently. He doesn’t say anything about your disheveled appearance or sad eyes, which you’re grateful for. 

You cry silently the entire drive to the hotel. 

[buckyownsmylife]

There’s a Light Over at the Frankenstein place - Sebastian Stan fluff

The one where you’ve been set up on a blind date with Sebastian Stan, with whom you had briefly worked and considered to be a friend. The only problem is, does he feel the same way?

Warnings: light angst? I’m incapable of writing anything without a happy ending, so do not worry.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“Seb?” I asked, honestly surprised to find him walking in with who I assumed to be his mother, by the similarity of their constitutions. His eyes met mine and I could swear he blushed, before looking down to his shoes and averting his eyes to his godmother, who stood next to me.

“You two are witches, do you know that?” He provoked, to which the two women simply giggled. I looked from one woman to the other, not being able to contain the sheepish smile trying to fight its way into my expression.

“I can’t believe this,” I teased Anastasia, who simply rolled her eyes at me, before nudging me with her elbow. 

“Well, you couldn’t stop talking about him since you two met, so we decided to help,” she explained and it was my turn to roll my eyes. 

“So I say that I finally met your grandson and that he really is nice and you read that I’m in love with him? Remind me to never say something to you again, Lord knows how you’re going to interpret it,” she blushed at the comment, but it was obvious by my smile that I was only joking. “Listen, if I have to go out with anyone tonight, I’m glad it’s with you, Seb.” I winked in his direction and didn’t miss the fact that he, yet again, blushed under my gaze.

Georgeta, Sebastian’s mom, grinned at me like I had hung the moon in the sky. I remembered he had told me how big of a fan of my work she was and so I made sure to hug her and introduce myself since he didn’t seem to be too eager to do so at that moment. Soon enough, both she and Anastasia kissed us goodbyes and with their last reminders to behave, finally left us be.

I wasn’t lying about what I had said. I was so incredibly grateful that my blind date turned out to be Sebastian, not only because I thought he was actually cute, but because he was someone I was already comfortable with and I hated the idea of spending my Thursday night with a complete stranger who could bore me to death. There was absolutely no possibility that was going to happen, though, since he was my company.

Despite the fact that we hadn’t known each other for that long, the two weeks we had spent together on set was one of the best experiences of my life. He was simply so freaking funny and considerate and I couldn’t forget the feeling that filled my heart when we spent the whole night looking up at the stars and talking about our greatest fears. It was so nice to find someone who understood my problems with anxiety so well, but every time I thought about the suffering this incredible human being went through because of it, I wanted to wrap him in a blanket cocoon and never let him leave my arms again.

“So…” I started, seeing as we were both still one in front of the other and he hadn’t made any movement that indicated his decision to sit down at the table Anastasia and I had picked when we arrived. “Do you want to stay here or would you rather go somewhere else?” I asked, watching as he finally looked me in the eyes, scratching his nape.

“Whatever you wish, darling…” he stated, but I could still see the clear discomfort in his stance. I looked around me once, weighing the trendy restaurant his godmother had brought me to before voicing what I had already decided. 

“Let’s get out of here,” I pulled him to me by the sleeve of his coat, locking our arms together before we let the cold air of Los Angeles’ evening hit us.

“Where are we going?” he questioned and I simply glanced at him, a smile on my lips.

“You’ll see.” Was my only answer as I quickly made my way towards the spot I had in mind. The walk was silent, despite the fact that I tried to come up with something to say a thousand times, but his disquiet threw me off completely. I knew blind dates were awkward, but seeing that we already knew each other, I was expecting at least some kind of conversation, since I considered us to be friends.

My feet took me to a well-known path and soon enough I found myself in front of my favorite bar in LA. I spent too much time during my visits here, but I had never brought any of my friends here before.

“What is this?” Sebastian asked, his bright blue eyes shining under the bar’s neon sign.

“The favorite place in this city,” I explained, pushing in the doors to let us in. Instantly, the familiar buzz of excited voices and the dim lights welcomed me to the environment I came to know so well.

“Hey, Peter!” I shouted over the other voices gathered around the bar, excitedly waving at the barman.

“Y/N! I wasn’t expecting you around here these days!” The muscular man behind the counter shouted back, his hands occupied with wiping down a few glasses. I simply shrugged, sticking my tongue out.

“You know I’m full of surprises.” I giggled. 

“That I do. What can I get you today?” I glanced at Sebastian, but as he was too occupied staring at his feet, I decided to let it go.

“I’ll have a beer, please.” 

“And your friend?” I remained quiet, not looking at Sebastian as I waited for him to say something. To be honest, I was getting pretty pissed now. 

“Oh, nothing for me, thank you.” That was it. As I accepted the bottle Peter offered me, I walked around the bar and chose a seat right in front of the barman, just under the tv, so I could get a good view of the game that was playing.

“Do you want me to look if there’s a soccer game on?” The bartender knew me too well.

“Yes, please,” I smiled gratefully at him, taking a swig of my beer. From the corner of my eye, I could see Sebastian changing his weight from one foot to another. Oh, so he was getting uncomfortable. Good. Maybe now he’d understand how I felt.

“Do you want to stay by the bar?” His voice reached me and it sounded timid. I raised an eyebrow.

“Well, seeing as I wasn’t expecting you to stick around, I figured it’d be better for me to remain here than to be left alone at a table.” Sebastian frowned at my words as I cursed myself for being mesmerized by the blue in his eyes.

“What do you mean?” I took a deep breath when I realized he truly looked confused.

Turning in my chair, I abandoned the game I was only pretending to watch and fixed my attention on my date for the night. “Sebastian, it’s okay. You can go back to your place. I promise I won’t tell your godmother, we can just say it didn’t work out or whatever. I just can’t bear this vibe anymore, I hate to see how uncomfortable you seem to be by me even though I thought we were friends until tonight.” I scoffed, feeling incredibly silly under his piercing gaze. I had to look down at my shoes before continuing.

“It’s so stupid, I was expecting to have a terrible night. And then when I saw you getting into the restaurant with your mother, I was hopeful that at least I would have fun. After all, I love your company.” Huffing, I straightened up on the chair, still not looking him in the eyes. “I’m sorry if you felt embarrassed at the prospect of going on a date with me. This could have been simply a night out between friends.”

“I don’t want to be your friend.” The words froze me in my spot, making my insides feel like they would burst and kill me on the spot at any minute, now. The shock finally made me look up to meet his eyes, and the encounter made it seem like he was surprised by his own words as well. “Shit. That’s not what I meant.”

Trembling, I left my chair and reached for my purse blindly, already turning around in search of the bar’s exit. “It’s okay, you don’t have to explain,” I whispered, despite knowing he probably wouldn’t listen over the loud sounds surrounding us. 

Quick steps took me outside of the building and the cold wind from the night sobered me up. What the fuck was that? My mind wasn’t working fast enough to catch up with what was going on, but my heart felt up to date, as I could feel it breaking into a thousand pieces.

It was stupid, but I knew I had a crush on Sebastian. And despite knowing he’d never feel attracted to me, I just never expected him to not even want to be my friend.

Sebastian’s P.O.V.

I was stuck on the same spot Y/N had left me, mulling over my own stupidity when at last something clicked and I found myself running out of the bar to look for her. Thankfully, she wasn’t very far so I managed to reach her just before she crossed the street.

“Wait, please,” I asked, grabbing her by the shoulder. I was expecting her to pull away or at least yell at me, but when she turned around with tears in her eyes, I knew I had screwed up. “Shit. Fuck. C’mon, doll, please don’t cry over me.” I pulled her for a hug, which she thankfully didn’t refuse, but she didn’t reciprocate either. Well, small steps. At least she was still here.

I let her cry against my sweater as I pondered over my own stupidity. Why was I like this? I hurt the only person in the world I didn’t want to hurt and now my own heart was heavy, not only with regret but also with fear. I was terrified of the prospect of losing Y/N.

Her cute little sobs started to soften and I felt it was safe to pull away from her just enough so that I could get a clear view of her face, which I quickly held between my hands. “Doll, I’m so sorry. God, I’m such an idiot, and I understand if you hate me and don’t want to see me ever again, but please just let me explain. When I said I didn’t want to be your friend… What I meant was… I would love nothing more than to be more than friends. I was actually the one who asked my mother and my godmother to set us up on a date.”

She blinked once and then twice, her lips stuck in a pout as the tears disappeared from her eyes. “I-I don’t understand…” She raised her coat’s sleeve to wipe her face as she stared up at me, her brows furrowed as she tried to make sense of what I had just shared.

Y/N’s P.O.V.

“I’ve had the biggest crush on you since we met.” My eyebrows rose all the way to my hairline at those words. I even snorted, 100% not believing what he had just said.

“Well, you have a weird way of showing that, Sebastian.” He chuckled, looking down at his shoes before meeting my eyes again.

“You’re not wrong. I… I am so bad at dealing with what I feel about you, in fact, that I had to resort to my godmother’s matchmaking skills. And you saw how she gets… But I wanted to get through with it, because otherwise, I wouldn’t know how to ask you out.” Narrowing my eyes at him, I tilted my head as I crossed my arms, the picture of annoyance.

“Then why the hell did you treat me like a nuisance? I mean, you’ve barely said a word to me all night!” It was hard to ignore how cute he looked with his cheeks slightly tinted pink, but I tried to. I wanted to be angry, I had every right to be irritated!

“Yeah, well… Turns out my plan wasn’t as great as I thought. When I saw you in that restaurant…” His phrase was interrupted by a low whistle. “I could only think something along the lines of shitfuckshit she looks too great ohmygod I’m gonna ruin this fuckfuckfuck abort mission abort.” Now, I had to laugh. And just like that, I could feel that warm fuzzy feeling that took over me whenever I was near Sebastian, and he knew it. His small, shy smile was begging me to forgive him when I had already done it.

“You’re too cute for your own good, Stan.” Pulling him by the lapels of his coat, I stood on my tiptoes and pressed a quick kiss on his lips, before separating our heads to gather his reaction. He was wide-eyed, but obviously not displeased, as his gaze kept traveling from my own eyes to my lips while he licked his.

“Well, so far I’d say it’s been highly advantageous to me.” Giggling, I allowed him to embrace me until our chests were pressed tightly together. “Think you can spare me another kiss?” I frowned in fake confusion at his question.

“Before you take me out on a proper date? You must be confusing me with another woman, good sir.” Now, it was his turn to laugh.

“That’s fair. Where to, milady?” I accepted the arm he was offering me while giving him a mischievous look.

“Anywhere, as long as you talk to me, silly.” The smile he gave me made me melt as I hugged his arm and allowed him to guide me through the night.

[tomsrebeleyebrow]

Oh I have one! Tom or Haz gushing out about you during an interview? Pretty please with a cherry on top??

A/N: here is a cute blurb with Tommy boy 😌 enjoy and stay safe 💖

‘Stay safe, Cheer up’ blurb event

The flashes of the paparazzi come from anywhere, almost blinding Tom as he advances on the red carpet. He tries keeping a smile on his face, not an easy matter when your name is literally shouted by fans and interviews, hoping to catch the attention of the young actor.

After posing for at least fifteen minutes with his co-stars, Tom’s publicist waves to him to pick an interview and start promoting the movie by himself. As much as he wants to stay focus, Tom can’t suppress his thoughts of you touring with your own cast on the other side of the planet.

Massaging his neck, he walks towards the first interviewer he sees. Typical questions were asked as always, such as how the filming went, if he had a great time with the crew and the cast and so on.

Until they mention the name of a specific someone.

“So (Y/N) has been participating to the premiere of the movie she’s been recently featured in, right? Do you know how she is? Do you guys call each other a lot?”

A big and bright smile makes its way on Tom’s face at the sound of your name. It’s like his limp mood disappeared in a snap to bring back his joyful nature.

“Obviously (Y/N) and I chat whenever we can! Fortunately we had some time together before we left for our premieres, and as we know the months to come are gonna be crazy, we’re making sure to call or FaceTime once a day. And I’m sure she’s doing super fine right now, she always does anyway, and in every things she does! And she-”

Tom just couldn’t stop gushing out about you, actively moving his hands here and there, eyes shining with some much enthusiasm. The interviewer has not a single chance to interrupt him after a few tries, and just lets Tom brag about you.

“-and that’s why I love (Y/N) so much. A true kind heart, lovely, talented, strong woman, definitely beautiful inside out and she- umh, maybe I’m talking too much, right?” finally realises an embarrassed Tom, chuckling as the interviewer joins him saying it is alright.

“Anyway, go see both our movies! You’ll be quite surprised but definitely entertained!”

Finally Tom proceeds with two more quick interviews but now, in a better mood than when he started the evening. He will call you after he finishes his day for sure.

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