#if i wasn’t miserable and stressed for other reasons i would feel a weight lifted from my shoulders. lol 🥲 but im proud of myself and i know

[pepprs]

update counselor breakup email scheduled to send at 8:48 am tomorrow 🥳

[twinklelilstarkey]

“Please don’t go” with Freddie Andersen 🥺

"Please don't go" - Frederik Andersen

Words: 3.6k+

Type: ANGST

Warnings: A lot of crying from both Y/N and Freddie. Break up. Mentions of long distance relationships.

It was a tough decision to end your relationship with Freddie.

You two had dated for a few months, after being extremely good friends for years. The whole relationship was a quite sudden decision, but right as it started, it felt so right that you felt stupid for not admitting your feelings sooner.

You feel like it’s fair to say that everything, absolutely everything, was just pure perfection when you were together. And that is why what you two shared will always be kept in your hearts:

All the smiles, all the laughter, all the hugs, all the kisses. The way one would always support the other on whatever decision. Or the way you two believed in one another, no matter what. 

There was just nothing bad about it. There were no arguments. If anything there was just disagreements, which if they did escalate, you two would fix it or just calm down in the same breath. 

Ending it, even though expected, was as painful as anything can possibly be. Both of you cried, constantly itching to comfort one other, feeling as helpless like never before.

You two sat opposites on your couch. Freddie looked at the ground, elbows over his knees as he listened to you, and you stared at a wall to contain your tears. Yet as soon as the first one escaped, you were done for.

Sobs in the middle of sentences, almost as if your heart was pleading your brain to stop you from putting an end to it. To what made you happy. 

An imaginary weight, which would always be lifted off when together, had now set over the two of you again. As well as the cold of familiar loneliness, and the horrible pain of heartbreak.

But it was for the best... right?

You got a huge offer for your job, some kind of promotion, which consisted of you moving to America.

It has been so many years since you started calling the Toronto streets your home, that you just know that this change will be unfamiliar and hard, yet the outcome always seems worth it. 

In your eyes, there’s absolutely no way for you to refuse it.

But for you to have it, you have to lose a lot too since work never makes it easy for anyone to take days off. Especially if those few days are to be in another country. Canada, in your case.

And sure, you had holidays and a week or two offered to you as some sort of vacation in a whole year of work. But not enough for you to try and leave everything behind you intact and act as if it will stay like that while you're away.

Whether you like it or not, strong friendships will become weak, the constant communication with your family will not even seem like half of what it used to be, and when it comes to relationships, trust will be tested. And god, even if you trust someone with your life, nothing can stop your brain from thinking of all awful possibilities. As well as your heart from hurting due to missing them so much.

Long-distance relationships are painful and you do not want to go through them. You would prefer to let the love of your life live his life with someone else, then let them wait for you for only God knows how much time.

That decision is the opposite way of looking at life selfishly. You prefer to go through an immense amount of pain if that means that the ones you love will be happy. Something Freddie always loved about you and sometimes would bring it up in conversations.

He also wouldn't let you refuse such an offer and you know it. The opportunity of you going after your dream was more important to him than anything, because it is your dream. He just didn't really know what would come with it.

He didn't know how much he would cry, how much he wouldn't want to open his eyes in the morning to see an empty bed, how much he would come to hate the silence in his home, or the absence of your perfume in his hoodies. It was a whole list of horrible things that he feels while following the same routine as before, yet all it gives him is pain. 

While you were packing your whole apartment to move far away, fighting off tears, Freddie had to work.

In morning skates, he would find himself skipping almost half his playlist when stretching because everything would remind him of you. He wouldn't look up at the clock in anticipation to go home. Or even be quick with getting off the ice when the last minute of work ends.

Sometimes he would sit on the bench for so long that the lights would eventually turn off around the arena. But he would just sit there. Head hung low with his eyes either closed or staring at nothing in front of him, letting his head run free.

Those weeks were rough. If rough could even come to describe half of what you two felt.

Today is your last day. The day to get on an airplane and not be sure when you're going to step foot into Canadian soil before Christmas. Or even see your loved ones before that too.

Your family and your friends have texted you a lot this morning, letting you know that they'll meet you at the airport. As well as asking how excited you feel.

You truly aren't even slightly excited to leave. All you feel is regret. And it's heavy and painfully stabbing its way into your back while closing its fists around your heart.

Why didn't you start dating way before all of this? Maybe that would've worked out in a way. You two could've argued and hated each other for what you've swarmed it could be forever. 

Or why did you have to meet him at all? Why didn't you ignore him like every other guy that talked to you on that specific bar? It would've made your friendship impossible and he would be nothing but a goalie you would see on the TV.

Getting up from bed today was just as bad to you as it was for Freddie. You two both dragged your feet into your separate bathrooms and undressed, pulling yourselves under the water of the shower. The water would soak you but neither of you moved to actually start doing anything else, you just stood there for a minute.

And with that, a loud sob jumped out of your mouth and you're back into your circle. Back to doing the same things with the same make-up-less face, your eyes swollen from tears and gaze fixed in nothing but the tiles of your floor.

Freddie didn't sob, but he isn't sure if he didn't cry either. If tears fell they left with the water falling from on top of him. The water that is trying to embrace him back to comfort, but failing miserably.

You throw the rest of your things inside your last bag and close the zipper slowly. Your gaze lifts up to the mirror of your bathroom and the reflected image breaks you as reality sets in.

You have to leave.

Walking around the apartment to check on everything was difficult as you continue to battle your emotions and throw all the memories to the back of your mind.

After that, you leave the key on the place you had previously planned with your landlord, and off you went into your Uber to the airport with your last belongings in your bags. Ready to leave home.

The driver was nice. He made small talk about where you were going and how he had gone there with his family last summer. He also must have sensed your uneasiness, so he decided highlight how nice the locals were and how everyone would always be ready to help you.

It relaxed you in a way, but not entirely as that wasn't even what was on your mind in the first place.

On the other hand, Freddie's late. Stuck in traffic to be more precise. His leg bounces with stress as he hides his face under his hat and hood of his shirt. All he could think of is how he won't get there in time.

His driver is silent, bobbing his head to the soft music playing on the radio while he stares at all the cars in front of them.

When taking a quick peek at the lines of cars in front of him, Freddie's starting to lose hope, no matter how hard he tries to be more optimistic.

He unlocks his phone as his fingers itch to text you, but he freezes at the picture of his home screen. He still doesn't have to heart to change anything he had with you, not even his god damn home screen.

A picture just a few weeks old, before you even had told him about the job offer. You were smiling at him behind the camera while holding a puppy up to your chest, eyes bright and wide with excitement. And your smile... just as breathtaking as heart-wrenching.

Freddie blinks harshly at the painful happy memory and looks ahead of him as the car moves ever so slightly. He has to at least say bye to you.

"You're going to love it, I know it!" Your mom says excitingly.

She squeezes you into another hug and you close your eyes at the feeling of her squeeze. Your hands are shaking for some unknown reason so you hesitate before wrapping your arms around her as well.

"You'll meet so many new people and learn so much new stuff."

She's starting to sound more excited than you at this point, yet you don't do anything but a short nod against her shoulder.

When you pull away, you look down at your phone, expecting to see any sort of notification... but there's nothing.

"Hey, I want a hug too." Your friend says over everyone's voices as she elbows her way to you.

You offer her a broken grin and she sadly smiles at you, throwing herself and her arms around you. 

Freddie almost rips the door open as the Uber parks right in front of the airport's main doors, not even realizing that he hasn’t acknowledged the driver verbally ever since he got inside the vehicle. 

His feet feel heavy and his legs tired, even though they have no reason to feel that way, yet he drags them into the building.

He walks fast-paced through the airport, looking through every group of people. His eyes scanning every single backpack, shirt, head of hair, beanie. Everything to find you.

You unwrap your arms from around another one of your friends and she smiles at you while cupping your face in her hands.

"If you ever need anything, I'll be on the first plane to you." She tells you and you grin at her.

"Promise?" You ask.

"I promise."

She kisses your nose and that's able to make your scowl break onto a smile, making everyone around you feel a sudden weight being lifted off the air around them, relief.

You adjust your backpack on your shoulder as you look around the group to see if you've hugged everyone and it sure seems like it. Your heart tightens in your chest and you take a deep breath.

"Are you ready to go?" Your mom asks you, laying her hand over your shoulder.

"I think so." You tell her.

She gives you a light squeeze in comfort and looks over behind her to see the line where you need to do your check-in.

"Well, I believe you just need to go over there," She starts, looking back at you, "and get your-"

She stops talking out of nowhere and you lift your gaze from your bag at her. She’s staring at something behind you.

Your heart quickens and at the sudden bit of hope runs through you. You look over your shoulder and your eyes meet Freddie walking towards you.

He's wearing grey sweatpants, a black hoodie, a hat over his head, and the hood of his shirt over it. If it wasn't for all the light coming from the large windows beside you, you wouldn't have noticed his reddened eyes and the broken look he's giving you.

Without any sort of hesitation, you take the backpack from your shoulder and lay it on the ground, taking steps towards him.

Freddie meets you halfway, wrapping his arms around you as yours move up to wrap around his neck and cling onto him. He holds you by your waist securely and lifts you in the air to hold you as close to him as possible.

A soft sob you’ve been holding in falls from your lips, sounding slightly muffled by his clothes, and you lay your head over his shoulder. Freddie closes his eyes to stop his tears from coming up again, snuggling his face close to you.

Your family and friends, when seeing and noticing you two, let sad smiles appear on their faces and decide to step aside, giving you two some space and privacy.

"I ran the whole airport to find you." He says, some humor deep in his tone.

A small smile lifts over your face as you cry your eyes out again, more out of relief than anything else.

One of his vacant hands lays on the back of your head, almost as it holding steady and his thumb caresses the nape of your neck, softly and carefully.

"I thought you weren't coming."

You pull your face away from his shoulder and take a look at him, locking gazes with him. Your hands rest over his shoulders and Freddie looks back just as directly.

"I got stuck in traffic." He explains.

Your hands come up to his bearded cheeks, a small pout influencing your forced smile, and your thumbs caress his skin.

His hand also rises up and he quickly wipes the tears off your cheeks.

“Don’t cry, come on.” He tries to tell you in a whisper over the sound of everyone’s loud voices around the airport.

“Sorry.” You tell him almost automatically, voice slightly cracking.

“No, don’t be sorry.” He corrects you. “I just don’t want to see you sad.”

You sniffle, your hands still over his cheeks, and give him a little nod, almost as your way to acknowledge his words since you’re not really trusting your voice right now.

Freddie kisses your palm and you lift your hands to wrap your arms around his neck again. He holds you as well and tries to swallow the ball of emotions at the back of his throat as your body shakes as you let out another overpowering small wave of silent sobs.

His eyes water ever so slightly and he blinks the tears away. 

“Do you feel ready to go?” He asks against the fabric of your hoodie, leaning his head closer against you.

“No.” You tell him.

Freddie swears his whole body reacted to your words. Maybe it was because you said it so close to his ear and that was the reason why he felt all those chills, but in a way, he knows it’s more than that.

He gives you more squeeze and your heart aches over what it could possibly mean. His hand rests over your leg and he leans forward to motion you to get back on the ground.

You do as requested but your body almost acts as if in denial when you order it to let go of him.

Freddie’s hands lay loosely by your waist, while your arms still hug his neck close to you, making him have to lean down over you.

“You still want to go, right?” He asks.

He doesn’t even know if he’s just checking on you or if he’s just hoping for an answer that would mean that you could go back home with him, but either way, he awaits it.

“I think so.” You try to say, but your voice falls in a whisper.

He forces your arms a bit away from him and you lift your head from his shoulder, sending him a look so broken that Freddie swears it broke his heart even further. He stares back into your eyes silently and observes your expression.

Without thinking twice, you close the small space between you two and lay your lips against his.

The sweet kiss is more than welcomed by Freddie, who can’t help but feel the small bit of hope course through his veins. The relief he felt over feeling you just hugging him again was able to destroy so many doubts in his head, and now that you’re kissing him, it’s like he’s falling in love all over again.

His hand rests in the back of your head, not letting you pull away just yet from the kiss he has been thinking about and needing for the past few weeks.

When you do pull away, you two just feel reality wash over you like a ice cold bucket of water. It’s heartbreaking to the point of you to want to gasp for air. 

You feel horrible.

Freddie looks back into your eyes as he pulls away further and he feels his eyes well up in tears again. And this time, it doesn’t go unnoticed.

Why do you have to go?

Your hands lay over his shoulders even when he stands upright and his hand continues rested over your head, against your hair, feeling it under his fingers.

He breaks his gaze from your eyes to check the time on the screen a few meters behind you. You follow his gaze, hands now sliding and resting over his chest, and your heart skips a beat at how the time flew since you had gotten there.

You don’t have much time left.

Your eyes go back to Freddie and he looks absolutely broken. And that is not making anything feel any easier for you.

“I love you.” You decide to tell him, “So much.”

He looks down at you and brings his hands back to your cheeks, holding your face.

“I love you too.” He answers.

His voice is so much lower and so much weaker than you’ve ever heard it before, it feels like a nightmare. 

It feels so unreal and so scary that it seems like something only the back of your mind can create to terrify you.

You grip onto his shirt and pull him down to you again, ignoring how the tears are starting to come up your eyes once more. He does as you request him to and this time doesn’t even even think twice before kissing you.

Your lips press against his as he lays various small pecks onto them while holding your wet cheeks in his larger hands.

“Please don’t go.” You hear him plead after a kiss.

You reopen your eyes and stare back at his. A tear has been able to escape his eyes and you’re quick to wipe it with the end of your sleeves.

“I need to go, Freddie.” You tell him, fighting off a sob. “I already signed everything.”

Frederik lays his forehead against yours and looks back onto you.

“Then I’ll wait for you.”

No.

You shake your head at him as a sob escapes your lips again and he fights off your denial with a nod.

“I will. I’ll wait for that contract to end, or I’ll retire early, I don’t care.” He tells you, feeling some more tears wet his face again, “We’ll be together again. I’ll visit you as many times as I can. I promise.”

You wipe his tears and quickly lean back to just pull him into another hug.

You cling onto his shirt, feeling more powerless than anything. 

The pain you’re feeling due to leaving is so strong that you almost don’t feel like yourself. Your body is shaking, you feel light headed, your chest is aching as your heart beats just as fast as your mind runs through all your options. 

You didn’t want it to be like this. For you to feel so sad and in so much pain. 

Freddie holds you back before you pull back, squeezing you close to him.

“Honey, it’s time to go.”

Your mom’s voice.

You quickly wipe your tears and lift your head from Freddie’s shoulder. He lets you go and a sudden rush of cold fills your body. The lack of his warmth is almost able to freeze you.

After that and a harsh and hard swallow of all your emotions, you pull your parents and friends into another set of hugs. Rushing back to Freddie for a last hug.

His hand is over your back, moving up and down to try and comfort you. You lay your wet cheek over his shirt, not caring if you wet it. And as soon as you look at him, your chin over his chest, he kisses your cheek.

A last squeeze later and you step back, offering everyone a small smile. Freddie grabs your backpack from the ground and gives it over to you. You take it silently and look up at everyone once more.

A small broken whisper moves past your lips as a small ‘bye’ to everyone that is looking at you and you soon turn on your heels, and... leave.

You don’t look back. Scared that if you do, you’re not able to keep going. And with that, Freddie stays back, standing right next to your family and friends.

Your mom has her hand over his back, comforting him just like he just did to you, in silence. And as soon as you’re out of the view from everyone’s eyes, she doesn’t hesitate to pull him into a hug.

“You’ll be together again. I’m sure of it.” She reassures him.

I hate this, but it can’t stay on my drafts for longer than it already has. Hope you like it...?

[pirate-au]

A Pirate's Life for a Prince (Part 2)

Summary: Roman was a dashing Captain, content with his exciting life out at sea, diving head first into adventure both on and off land. He wouldn't give up his life for anything, and yet he found himself...lacking something. He was never sure what.

When he meets Virgil, a seemingly common traveler in an old tavern, that lacking feeling in his chest goes away for the first time in a long while. So surely there's no harm in offering the stranger and his friend a ride, right?

Notes: TW for panic attacks, brief suicidal thoughts, mentions of abuse

Thank you again to @cheshirevalentine for editing being the best

part 1 part 3 part 4 part 5 part 6

Virgil lowered himself to the bed, hands trembling as the weight of his decision finally dawned on him.

He pushed thoughts of Roman out of his mind for now, how the Captain had just given up his room for him, and instead turned his attention to an exhausted Patton who clearly just wanted to go home.

“They said they aren’t leaving until morning,” he said, watching as Patton lowered himself to the chair across the room. “You can probably still sneak off. I’ll be fine, I’ll… make up some excuse for why you left.” Patton looked up at Virgil as he spoke, lowering his hands from where he had been rubbing his eyes under his glasses.

“What do you mean? It's much too late to be out and about, and I'd make it heck for myself getting back on the ship before they leave."

“You wouldn’t need to get back on the ship.” Virgil leaned forward, fighting the urge to fall back on the bed and close his eyes. He could feel the exhaustion weighing down on him, thick and heavy. “You’d go back home. I’d just rather I get to say goodbye than you being gone when I wake up tomorrow.”

Virgil stared at his lap, painfully aware of Patton’s eyes on him, hands clasped in his lap as he tried to ignore the ache in his chest, pushing down a sob at the thought of losing Patton. The man had been there nearly as long as he could remember. To be without him would be foreign and terrifying.

“Why would I be gone in the morning?” Patton asked. “I’m not goin’ anywhere, kiddo, c’mon.”

Virgil couldn’t help but roll his eyes. He really wasn’t in the mood to be given false hope out of kindness. Patton wouldn’t rat him out, he knew that, but he wasn’t going to uproot his entire life when Virgil couldn't even repay him. “You’re not coming with me, Patton. I’m never coming back.”

“I figured you weren’t coming back, Virge,” Patton said, his concerned frown only deepening. “Do you not want me to come with you? I figured you might, I know you hate being alone around new people."

“No, I… of course I want you with me,” Virgil said. He’d always known that one day he’d have to say goodbye, and it hurt, but Patton was… really not making it easy. “Pat, I'm spending almost everything I have on this ride. I'll barely have anything when we make it to Deigh. I can't pay you anymore.”

Patton just shook his head, leaning back in the chair. “I don’t care if you pay me, Virge. It’s not about the money.”

Virgil blinked, wondering if the stress and lack of sleep was making Patton delirious. "Pat, that's… that's why you're here. You stay with me because someone pays you to, and I can't do that.”

“I stay with you because I love you,” Patton said softly. “Not because of my job. You know I’d follow you to the ends of the Earth if you asked me to.”

Virgil let out a shaky breath, unable to look at Patton as he wrapped his arms around himself. "You don't have to do that. I've known you were paid to stay with me since I was a kid, Pat. I just… really would rather say goodbye now than never get to."

“We’re not saying goodbye. I don’t care about my job, Virgil. I care about you. I stayed with you because I loved you, not because I got paid.”

“Right,” Virgil scoffed, desperately trying to keep himself from crying. “You don’t care about getting paid. So if the king offered you more money than you’ve ever seen in your life to bring me back, you wouldn’t take it?”

“I wouldn’t take you back for all the money in the world,” Patton said firmly. Virgil knew that if he cried Patton would follow, so he had to hold it together for both of them. Patton’s voice seemed to falter for a moment, the man looking down at his hands. “You don’t know how much I wanted to get you out of there.”

Virgil sniffed, rubbing his eyes and staring down at his lap, listening to the creaking of the boat as people moved around above them.

“We used to talk about it a lot,” he mused. “When I was younger. I always asked you when we were running away, and then I... “ He trailed off, wiping his face insistently. He couldn’t cry. It was for both of them. “I grew up and I never... thought we actually would.”

“Well, we are,” Patton said. “You’re not going back. Not ever again.”

Virgil hunched his shoulders, still refusing to look up. “You�� you have a life, Pat. You have responsibilities. I’m not worth leaving all that behind.”

“You’re worth the world, kiddo. You’re worth so much more than any amount of money the King could offer. I love you more than anything, you know that. I’m here to stay, just like I always have. I promise.”

“You have family—”

“You’re my family,” Patton interrupted. “You’ve been my kid since you were six, Virgil. I love you.”

Virgil swallowed, pulling his knees up to his chest. “You have pretty bad taste, Pat.”

“No, Virge,” he said. They’d had this argument more times than Virgil could count. “I don’t. I- I’m sorry. I know what they did and I’m… I’m so sorry I didn’t get you out of there sooner.”

"It's not your fault." And it wasn't, Patton had done everything just right. Virgil wouldn't have made it this far without him. "You did everything you could. I never… knew why you were so nice to me.”

Patton had been the first one to be kind, to not try to hurt or use him the second he met Virgil, and up until tonight, he’d been the only one.

Roman’s hadn’t tried either. He hadn’t seemed to consider it, not even once. And maybe it was stupid to trust him so easily, to jump on a ship with a man he’d only just met, he’d never get an opportunity like this ever again. It was worth the risk.

Patton sighed, shaky and small, and Virgil suspected he’d catch a glimpse of stray tears if he lifted his head. “I could have done so much more for you.”

“You did everything you could,” Virgil said again. “You made sure I wasn’t alone and that’s… that was what I needed.”

He heard Patton stand and make his way over to the bed, lowering himself beside Virgil. Shakily, he reached out, taking Virgil’s hands in his own. "I'm not gonna let anyone hurt you like that again, okay? I couldn't stop it then, but I can now."

He squeezed his eyes shut, hating himself for being the reason Patton sounded so miserable. Patton never should have seen the things that happened to Virgil, he’d be so much happier if he’d left it all behind years ago.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he admitted, barely a whisper. “But you can still change your mind. I won’t be mad.”

Patton lifted a hand, cupping Virgil's cheek, his thumb brushing gentle strokes as he watched him. “I won’t. I’m not going anywhere without you, kiddo.”

“What if someone finds out?”

“They won’t,” Patton said. “You’d know if Roman was suspicious, and I spent some time talking to Logan while you two chatted. We’re just two common travelers, and we’re gonna make it to Deigh and figure it out from there. Anything you want to do, we can do it.”

Virgil laughed, wiping his eyes and dropping his head on Patton’s shoulder. “We’ll be okay,” he agreed, closing his eyes again when Patton cradled the back of his head. “We made it out.”

“This is a whole new start,” Patton said. He pressed a kiss to the crown of Virgil’s head, holding him like he had since Virgil was a kid. “I can’t wait to adventure with you.”

-

The next few days at sea weren’t as peaceful as Virgil had imagined they’d be, but the excitement was something new to him and he found himself watching everything intently, awestruck.

Casting off that first morning had been hectic, Virgil woken up by booming yells and thundering footsteps above him, he and Patton clambering out of the bed they were sharing to hurry up to the deck to watch.

The crew had been scuttling around to their respective places, all smiles and jovial chatter, Virgil stepping back to watch them work.

The crew was loud and a little intense, but each one had smiled or nodded pleasantly when they passed, Virgil returning the gesture with a quiet wave. It took a bit of getting used to, and he knew Patton could tell he was caught off guard. Virgil had never been surrounded by this much kindness in his life, everyone pleasant and free.

Roman was busy directing the ship and his crew, too busy to really spend much time with his passengers those first couple days, so Virgil was careful to give him some space.

He was always polite when they did see each other, just as charming as he’d been when they’d first met, no sign of him dropping the facade for something more sinister now that Virgil was practically trapped on his ship.

It felt… genuine.

The Captain would stop what he was doing when he saw Virgil or Patton, hurrying over to say hello and check in, asking how they were faring on the voyage.

He’d get called over by a crewman eventually, bidding Virgil farewell as he rushed back to work, and Virgil would sit by the rail with Patton and watch the waves crash against the side of the ship.

Even in a new environment, Patton knew when Virgil was overwhelmed or anxious, always ushering him over to hold him at the perfect moment. Virgil still sought him out on his own when he needed the reminder of safety, but Patton always seemed to have some sixth sense that let him know when Virgil needed to be held.

He was grateful beyond words that Patton had stayed with him.

It was still taking Virgil some time to get his “sea legs” as Roman had put it, stumbling with each step when the wind would pick up, the ship rocking against the unpredictable waves.

That first morning, Logan had put down his work and made his way over to teach Patton and Virgil how to work on keeping their balance, as well as some methods to keep them from getting seasick.

Logan was… nice. Virgil was a little wary of him, and he knew Patton would keep a close eye on the first mate for a bit, but he didn’t seem to have any ill intent, intimidating as he was.

A few days into their voyage Virgil had gone exploring by himself, Patton busy with introducing himself to as much of the crew as he could.

Roman was up on the bridge, smiling as he gave orders to his crew, the wind tangled in his hair, eyes lighting up when he caught sight of Virgil.

The ship had chosen that moment to tip, almost sending Virgil stumbling right into the Captain’s chest, and Roman had leaned forward and swiftly caught him around the waist.

He’d had to spin a little to keep them from falling, leaving Virgil feeling wonderfully lightheaded, and when they’d steadied themselves Roman had given him an infuriatingly pleased smile. He’d held him around the waist just long enough to wink before he let go and returned to watching the sea.

Virgil had run right back to Patton after that, face burning bright red, refusing to talk about what had gotten him so flustered.

It had only been a few days, but Virgil had never felt so content. Unfortunately, this much excitement and change was making it nearly impossible to get any sleep.

Patton was sound asleep on the other side of the bed, but Virgil was stuck staring blankly at the ceiling, plagued with thoughts of his new freedom, his future, and Roman's stupidly innocent flirting (that absolutely did not make him blush) his head running wild after the last few days of a brand new life.

There was no point in laying here all night, listening to the endless creaking of the ship. Besides, he kind of wanted to see the ocean at night.

He was careful not to wake Patton when he eventually crawled out of bed, creeping across the cabin and slipping out the door to make his way out onto the deck.

He was still a bit unsteady on his feet, holding his arms out a little to steady himself, but the night was beautiful, stars scattered across the midnight sky, the air crisp and the breeze pleasantly cold.

He almost wasn’t surprised when he found Roman leaned against the railing, facing out towards the sea with the wind in his face. Virgil froze when Roman turned around, but immediately relaxed when the Captain smiled, laughing softly at Virgil’s unsteady movements.

“Why’re you up?” he called, motioning for Virgil to make his way to the railing. “It’s pretty late, isn’t it?”

Virgil really hoped his blush wasn't visible under the moonlight, and he wondered if Roman would be proud of himself if he knew he was the only person to make Virgil genuinely flustered. Not that he’d mention it.

“I could ask you the same thing,” Virgil said, finally making it to Roman’s side. “You’ve got a whole ship to run.”

With the moonlight dancing between the two of them, Virgil could swear he could count the specks in Roman’s eyes. He felt his cheeks flush and he quickly turned towards the sea, closing his eyes to the wind, the light spray of the salty water stinging pleasantly.

“The ship isn’t run solely on me,” Roman said. “I don’t get much sleep, anyways. I’ll be alright. What about you, don’t you need your beauty sleep?”

Virgil's blush definitely darkened at that and he smiled at the cheesy line against his will. He could feel Roman staring, and he ducked his head to let his bangs fall into his eyes. "I think it's pretty clear I don't get much of that as it is."

Roman turned and Virgil glanced over to him, the Captain giving him a soft, almost private smile.

“As if you were on fire from within,” Roman recited, putting his chin in his hand with his elbow up on the rail. “The moon lives in the lining of your skin.”

Virgil turned to him, laughing softly when he briefly caught Roman's gaze. For once, someone staring didn't make him feel tense or exposed. "I didn't know you liked poetry, Captain. Pablo Neruda?"

Roman froze, his face going beat red, and Virgil grinned as the Captain realized he’d been found with his hand in the poet’s journal.

“You caught me,” Roman laughed, his smile guilty as he straightened up and wiped his face with his palm. “Where did you come across Neruda?”

“Relax, it sounds better coming from you, anyway.” In the face of Roman's embarrassment, Virgil found himself much less nervous to respond with a teasing smile. “My, uh…my uncle always wanted me to be well read. Ever since I was a kid.”

“And he thought Neruda was a good place to start?” Roman teased, leaning forward. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d assume you were a royal, Virgil.”

Virgil knew he was teasing, that it was just another lighthearted joke. He hadn’t meant to react with anything other than a scoff, but suddenly his throat was dry, face paling as he tore his gaze from Roman to watch the sea again.

“Oh please,” he forced out, hoping his brief panicked stumble went unnoticed. “Can you imagine that? Me? Living up in a fancy castle?”

He felt Roman staring, the silence stretching on a moment too long, and Virgil clutched at the railing with suddenly unsteady hands.

“That would be crazy, of course,” Roman said slowly. “You wouldn’t be running away on a pirate ship if you were a royal.”

Virgil laughed again and- shit, his hands were shaking now. Maybe he could blame it on being a walking anxiety attack all the time. “Of course not. I’m just teasing you, Captain. Why don’t you recite more of your poetry?” He said, his nervous laugh catching in his throat.

Roman stood up straight now, and his smile was gone when Virgil glanced over. “Surely you’re not a royal. That would be crazy. You’re not a royal, are you Virgil?”

Virgil clenched his jaw, clutching the railing and keeping his eyes on the ocean. “I’m… I’m not a royal.”

He couldn’t look up when Roman took a careful step forward, setting a hand down on Virgil’s shoulder. His breath caught in his throat, and he just hoped Roman couldn’t tell he was shaking.

“I need you to look at me and tell me that you’re not a royal, Virgil. This isn’t a joke. I can’t kidnap a member of the royal family on a whim.”

Even now, shaking on the deck of an unfamiliar ship and desperately trying to force himself to just get it together and lie before everything fell apart… he couldn’t help but feel grounded with Roman’s hand on his shoulder. “I…you’re not kidnapping me.”

“I am, Virgil,” Roman said, his frown deepening. “Unless you were specifically given permission, this is kidnapping. Did you-” he paused, lifting his hand from Virgil’s shoulders to run it through his hair, turning to step away. “Did you get permission? Or did you just leave everything on a whim?”

Virgil still couldn’t meet Roman’s eyes, feeling a bit like he was going to be sick. His heart was racing in his ears, beating so fast and so loud he wondered if Roman could hear it too. “I didn’t… actually think I would get out of the city so quickly.”

Roman froze, barely a heartbeat of silence passing before the Captain’s voice took over the deck, no longer excited and jovial.

“So you climbed on the first ship you found?” Roman whirled back around, arms thrown out to the side. “You can��t just abandon your duties like that! You have responsibilities, don’t you? Shit! I’m so fucked if I get boarded by a Navy boat!”

Virgil shrank back when Roman raised his voice, watching as the Captain began to pace the deck, first away from Virgil and then back. He mourned the loss of Roman’s touch more than he probably had the right to.

“I’m sorry,” he tried, letting go of the railing in favor or wrapping his arms around himself. “I just...I- you were nice and you offered me a ride and I—”

“You can’t trust everyone who’s nice to you, Virgil!” Roman turned back, his face a furious mask of frustration. “You ran away! Next you’ll be telling me you were the fucking Crown Prince!”

Virgil flinched back a little too fast, his breathing picking up. He felt small and cornered, the feeling unfortunately painfully familiar.

“I- uhm…” he trailed off, warily looking up to meet Roman’s eyes, not quite sure how to answer with words. “I’m sorry.”

“No.” Roman dropped his arms to his sides, staring at Virgil with eyes wide in disbelief. “No. You’re not the heir. You did not run away from the crown of your kingdom on a whim. Surely.”

Abruptly, Virgil wondered if Roman was going to hurt him. He was angry, and rightfully so, much larger, and they were all alone- up on the deck in the middle of the night.

He wondered if he could make a break for it and get to Patton before the Captain grabbed him. Probably not.

“I’d been…thinking about it for a while,” Virgil said quietly. “So it wasn’t technically on a whim.”

Roman stared at him for a moment, the air between them tense, the only sound coming from the crashing of the waves below. "We're turning around. I'm taking you back. Go tell Patton, we'll be back by the end of the week."

“What?” Virgil felt everything screech to a halt, panic and dread hitting full force as Roman’s words settled and the Captain turned on his heel. He was moving to intercept his path before he could stop himself. “No! No, you can’t do that!”

Roman stopped, just for a moment to look down at him. “Yes, I can. You should get to bed now, it’s late.” He stepped around him, a hand on Virgil’s arm to get around. “Sleep well, Virgil.”

“No!” Virgil wasn't thinking anymore, acting on pure panicked instinct as he reached out to grab Roman's arm, desperate to keep him on the deck. “Please, please you can’t. You can’t take me back, I- I can’t go back. Roman, please.”

“Let go of me, Virgil.”

Virgil didn’t move, despite being acutely aware of how much bigger Roman was, and how close they were. It wasn’t pleasant anymore. “Please Roman, please. I’ll—” he hesitated for a moment, considering his desperate words. “—Roman, I’ll do anything. I’ll do anything.”

“I don’t want anything from you, Virgil,” Roman said before the words were even out of Virgil’s mouth, the Captain tensing in his hold. “You have to go back. Now let go.”

“I can’t.” Virgil couldn’t move, still clutching Roman’s arm, and he distantly realized he couldn’t catch his breath either. “I’m- I’m not going back. I’m not going back, Roman I’m… please don’t make me. I can’t- I can’t do it again.”

Roman finally turned, firmly taking Virgil by the shoulders and bending down slightly to be eye level with the smaller man. “You have a duty, Virgil. And so do I. This is bigger than you and it’s bigger than me. I know you’re scared, and it’s ok to be, but you have to go back. I know it’s hard. Believe me, I do. I understand more than you know.”

“No you don’t.” Virgil was crying now, hot tears streaming down his cheeks, but he couldn’t find it in him to care. He twisted out of Roman’s grasp, frantically backing away. “You-you don’t, I… they’ll just hurt me again if I go back and it’ll be worse and I can’t- I’m…I can’t do it again, Roman!”

Roman let him go, quickly pulling his hands away like he’d been burnt when Virgil started to back up. There was a moment of silence, the furious waves once again the only sound on the deck, overshadowed only by Virgil’s quick, panicked breathing.

“Again?” Roman repeated, voice quiet. “What- who hurt you, Virgil?”

“Everyone!” Virgil couldn't breathe, he couldn’t… he couldn’t go back. Not after finally coming so close to getting away. “They all- they all keep…they won’t stop and I hate it! You…you didn’t hurt me. You didn’t even try so I trusted you and- and now you’re taking me back.”

“You’re shaking, Virgil,” Roman said softly. He reached for him, freezing when Virgil scrambled back again. “I won’t hurt you. I… I’ll figure it out when we get there, you're not without help.”

Virgil could barely hear Roman at this point, too busy frantically trying to remember how to breathe, shaking uncontrollably as the Captain spoke.

All he knew was that Roman was still insisting on taking him back.

Because nobody cared if Virgil was hurt or used or trapped. He was the Prince. He was just property made to look pretty, wasn’t he? A pretty pawn to be placed on the throne.

He found himself glancing at the railing, the only thing separating him from the endless sea. “I’m not going back.”

“You have to go back, Virgil.” The Captain took a few steps towards Virgil, slow and steady, his hands out in front of him. “It’s the only option. You’re not safe out at sea or with me.”

Virgil took a step back as Roman approached, eyes darting between the Captain and the railing of the ship, tears now running freely as the hopelessness set in. Because no matter what he did, as long as he was alive he’d end up right back where he started. “I- I don’t care. I can’t do it again, Roman!”

And then, before any rational part of his brain beyond the panic could talk him out of it, Virgil darted forward towards the railing, eyes on the dark water below. He made it to the edge, lifted himself up and—

And then there were arms around him, grabbing Virgil by the waist just as his hands closed around the railing, hoisting him up and back away from the edge.

“No!” All he could register were hands wrapped tight around him, grabbing him, dragging him onto the ship that was taking him right back to the place he’d been trying to escape since he was a child.

He twisted and kicked and thrashed in Roman’s grasp, chest screaming in pain as he fought to catch his breath, but the Captain’s hold never loosened. Virgil’s stomach dropped when they both went crashing to the ground, the sick feeling in his stomach rising up into his throat until he felt like he was choking. Roman’s hold only tightened when they fell, Virgil’s back against his chest.

“Please,” he begged, the words falling from his lips without his permission, terrified and desperate. “Please, Roman not you too. Not…please don’t, please don’t do this—”

“Do what?” Roman asked, incredulous. “I’m trying to keep you from jumping off the ship! I’m not going to hurt you!”

“You’re making me go back.” Virgil couldn’t breathe. It felt like his lungs were being crushed every time he struggled to take a single breath. “You…you can do whatever you want to me just please. Please don’t make me go back. Please, just help me.”

Roman didn’t respond for a long moment, or maybe Virgil just couldn’t hear anything over his own panicked breathing, but after a moment the Captain’s hold loosened slowly until his arms were just loosely draped around him. Virgil didn’t have the energy to make a run for it, and he was terrified of the consequences of getting caught again.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Virgil. I don’t want anything from you, I—” he paused for a moment, his breathing heavy, and Virgil squeezed his eyes shut. “I’m not taking you back.”

Virgil still couldn’t catch his breath, lightheaded from the pain in his chest, so it took a moment for Roman’s words to register. He froze, stopping any futile struggling, eyes flying open again.

Slowly, still hesitant and cautious, he reached up with a trembling hand to clutch weakly at Roman’s wrist. “You…you’re not…really?”

He’d begged before, countless times to countless people over the years, but nobody had ever bothered to listen.

“No, I’m not.” Roman tightened his hold just a little, but it felt more like comfort than restriction. “If you’re that desperate not to go back, I’ll trust that it was that bad. I’m not taking you back.”

The flood of relief was dizzying, somehow more exhausting than the panic, and Virgil took in a desperate, shaky breath which quickly dissolved into a sob.

He twisted around, the Captain’s hold loose enough to let him turn until he could wrap his arms around Roman, holding on as tight as he could manage and dropping his forehead to the other man’s chest.

“Thank you.” Distantly, he figured he should be ashamed of how badly he was still shaking, but he couldn’t seem to stop. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“Don't thank me,” Roman said, hugging Virgil to his chest. “It’s just human decency. I’m sorry I scared you.”

“It’s not,” Virgil said, voice muffled by Roman’s shirt. “No one…no one else would. So thank you. Thank you so much.”

He still couldn’t stop trembling, cold and terrified, and he no longer had the strength to keep his eyes open on his own. Roman maneuvered slowly to rest a hand on Virgil's head, carefully running fingers through his hair just like Patton always did to calm him down.

“It’s okay,” he said softly. “You’re safe here. I promise.”

Virgil melted into the embrace, letting out another shuddering breath as his own hold on Roman began to loosen against his will. He felt himself being dragged down to sleep, exhaustion weighing over him like a blanket. He didn't mean to say anything else, but he wasn't exactly thinking clearly right now. "I… I don't want to be hurt anymore."

“I won’t let them hurt you ever again,” Roman said. Virgil felt him reposition his hold to have one hand under his knees, the other against the Prince’s back. “You’re safe.”

Moving slowly, Roman stood up and took Virgil with him, holding the smaller man against his chest. The Captain’s arms around him were the last thing he registered before everything faded, and he let himself drift off to sleep.

Taglist: @i-really-like-dragons @stitches-system @poettheythem @remy-the-lemon-berry @shrubs-and-bushes @i-sexually-identify-as-a-mistake @wordsmithandworm @the-dead-and-the-decaying @hope340 @winterwynd @thomas-sanders-tothe-standers @angstysunshine @sunshineandteddybears @pixelated-pineapple

[jean-does-not-have-a-horseface]

Hello!! Could you please write an scenario where Levi got hurt (not badly) during an expedition but he refuses to go to the nursery when they got back, making the reader worried for him so she asks if she can tend to his injuries and he lets them? (Maybe while she's at it they kiss if u want) Just some care for our Levi:)) Sorry if my English isn't good, it's not my main language

Yoooo that was a rather hot thing to write 👀👀👀👀 I hope you enjoy, also, don't worry about your English. In fact English isn't my first language either❤️

Pairing: Levi/ Reader

Tags: fluffity fluff, smooches, slurpy hot smooches, yes I'm doing God's work, awkward Levi brrr

The Moon Is Full, I Guess

It was outdated at this point. Your hand clenched in a fist probing onto the dark mahogany door, the beating of your heart that throbbed inside your chest as the though of the person on the other side of the wall swirled through your mind, your ratched breaths, gulped by the lump in your throat, everything was tiring, dull.

The feeling was embarrassing and overwhelming. They way it overtook you, they way it threw you off tracks at his mere presence was causing anger to dwell in the pits of your stomach. But even if you had to look past that, you couldn't get over yourself for wanting to be of help.

It was an egoistical act before it was a selfless one. You wanted to be the first to reach out to him, you wished to be the only one to help him and you felt disgusted with yourself that your twisted brain created scenarios in which Levi felt enamored by your generosity. But love did that to you. And even if you despairately wanted to fight it, you couldn't realistically pick a fight a feeling.

Because if you could, love would have gotten your fists.

"State your name business."

"It's (y/n)." You puckered your lips as your name sourly slipped out of your mouth.

There wasn't anything that didn't plainly scream mechanical and awkward as Levi's grumpy voice ordered you to state your name and business and you anathematized it, cursing softly under your breath as your shagged, hardened palm reached for the door handle upon hearing the familiar grunt of approval to your request. That was it. The small victory of your ego dwelled inside you, poisoning the spit under your tongue.

You panicked, only momentarily, and only at the thought of a sour breath that tingled on the top of your tongue. Your eyes widened below puckered eyebrows as your mind repeatedly alarmed you of the bitter taste inside your mouth canal. Your cool though wasn't bugged further, with a stern inhale you composed your weaker side in the binds of your fond chest.

"Levi."

You stuck your palms to the door, bum extended on them as you leaned with your back on the wood, your goal to simply shut the door tenderly achieved as you heard the tiny click of the handle. It was your footstep that was heard next, the heel of your boot that clashed with the mahogany tile overpowered Levi's hiss of your name. You simply let your footing roll naturally in trying to approach him, although your lungs, agreeing with the part of your brain that accused you of being a rotting egoist, protested.

"Sit." He hissed and your breath hiccuped.

"No, Levi, I won't." Refusing to sit on the loveseat by his desk you set your fiery gaze onto him. "In fact, I'm not here for any reason you'd like to hear."

The movement of Levi's orbs was adorned with a short blink of his eyelids. It caused you to bite the side of your top lip harshly but your heart was already heaping at the sight by the time you felt your canines dig into the soft piece of flesh. You figured Levi didn't notice, whereas it was usual for him to pick up on any reluctancy in your antics, it seemed as if the pain of his injury overpowered his mind. And somehow, in some twisted way, you were thankful for that.

It meant you couldn't really degrade yourself more to him.

"Why didn't you line up for the infirmary when we arrived? You got injured!" You pouted, (e/c) eyes burning brightly into his.

"There were too many who were heavily injured and needed immediate help. My minor injury is not something anyone should be bothered by, probably a shitty broken rib, I'll be fine if I lay on the low for a while." Levi sighed and kept his voice low as he spoke to you calmly.

He averted his gaze off of you for a moment, his own foot started tapping obnoxiously without any certain rhythm on the floor beneath him. In a nervous movement he run his hand through his hair. There was sulk written on his face after he licked his lips. In an attempt to mask his pain, he even bit his own lip, mimicking your previous actions. Whether you considered this a symbolism or not, was completely up to you.

"You're not serious."

"I'm shit serious."

"I figured you'd deny anything actually, but," you sighed "can you at least let me tend to you?"

You were hesitant as you extended your arm to him, (e/c) eyes meeting his for the upteenth time in such a short period of time. There was no denying; the confidence it took for anyone to handle Levi like was something you didn't lack of, you could blame that for having spent half of your life with him in the underground but your stubbornness made up for that abomination of self respect you had. Thus yet, when you were definitely sure you'd have to pull your empty hand back to your embrassed self his palm confidently clasped over yours and your stubborn stomach immediately started churning in a mixture of emotions.

In only a matter of seconds you felt your head drifting and Levi's gaze somewhat softened as it landed on your linked palms, the man finally deciding to balance his weight between his foot and your grip. You forced your strength to gather on your hand to support him as he slowly got up, never letting his hand go off his side.

Levi's boot missed numerous steps as you took the task of carrying him onto yourself and grunts of pain filled the air with every marching you made towards his private quarter. The small chamber smelled incredibly strong of lemon and vinegar, but you chose to ignore it with a scrunch of your nose. You knew what it meant; Levi had pushed himself to meticulously clean the room in the early morning before the expedition began, probably due to his immense amount of stress and you were in no place to bring it to his attention right now. You shouldn't even try to interfere with anything else other than tending to his injury.

But that tiny little day dreamer in your head refused to let you get through with what you had in mind.

Setting him onto the edge of his bed, you clapped your hands on his thighs in a silent instruction for him to stay put. Levi simply bored his eyes into yours, watching as you bucked on your knees in order to straighten your posture and then marching straight to his dresser. You stopped absurdly, seemingly puzzled as you balanced your weight on your right leg, popping on your hip at the process.

His gunmetal gaze was nervously averted at the sight and his cheeks stung as if a thousand needles were punched through his skin; he felt noticably guilty and vague when he caught himself looking at you in such way. It was definitely something he could manage to hide well, he had figured that much at least, because he didn't want to cause anything awkward to inflict between the two of you.

"Where do you usually keep gauze and bandages?" You inquired, throwing your head over your shoulder to look over to his direction.

"In my underwear drawer, top right corner." As Levi spoke, you puckered your lips, despairate to turn your hot head away from him, setting your goal to find the medical supplies you needed to tend to him.

Turning around in triumph, you suppressed a smug smile from spreading on your face as you held the bundle of bandage tightly in your hand. Levi shot you another bored look followed by a sigh as he pushed his lips in a thin line. You couldn't figure if he seemed disappointed in your actions or he was just as bugged as he'd be most of the time, and your stomach punched the insides of your torso in quick anxiety.

Sitting next to Levi on the bed did nothing to stop your coiling stomach, if anything, it sent your whole body in churning fury. You felt miserable and vague, bringing yourself in this very position, but you couldn't simply resent it in the last moment, it probably would make things look worse for you.

Nevertheless, you let out a sigh and avoided his look as you brought your hands on top of his shoulders, quickly slipping them on the inside of his camel leather jacket and sliding them down his shoulders in order to push the piece of clothing away from him to save him from excessive movements. Levi darted his chin away from your direction as not to have his head collide with yours and you almost let out a hitched breath at that.

"Wait," Levi said as you tagged on the collar of his button down shirt. "I have broken rib, bandaging me up won't do any good."

Your head dropped when he finished speaking, your gut burning in the somehow gory defeat of your ego. You sweared under your breath and onto his clothed collarbone, cussing your silly clouded brain for not even considering his actual injury. Your lungs demanded to punish you by refusing to be satisfied with any oxygen you would try to fill them with and you knew you deserved it for being so engrossed with the thought of taking care of him instead of actually doing so.

"You good, brat?"

"Yeah, I- I'm just stupid aren't I?" You spoke, lifting your chin up to meet with his gaze.

"Once a moron, always a moron." He confirmed, almost playfully.

You fondly inspected the skin on his face and neck, trying to worry your guilty eyes away from his; you felt as if he was reading you like an open book, which he could easily do, yet your chest was dwelled with too much pride to allow him to speak any other word of concern.

Pushing any poisonous thought to the back of your brain you demandingly bit on your lip and pulled a few inches away, just enough so you could directly look into him. With another look at his gunmetal eyes you stopped your next breath from exiting your body, feeling your heart throb inside your whole body. With trembling hands you searched for his, engulfing his short calloused fingers into your palms almost immediately upon your blind discovery.

It was now or never.

Yet, you barely spoke. The inability to utter even the most incoherent sounds was conquering your body, probing you to duel with it in any case you wanted to expose the nature of your feelings. Nevertheless, you stomped your foot on the mahogany floor and furrowed your brows dangerously before you parted your lips. Though the line you chose to utter was supposed to be nothing more than an internal thought.

"Thinking of you is a poison I drink often."

"You into poetry yet or what (y/n)?" Levi blinked his eyes boringly into yours as he spoke, never flinching for even a mere second.

You knew, under any other circumstance you would have burst laughing in his casual sarcasm, but as all air exited the room, you weren't sure you could bring yourself to make another sound.

"The moon is full, I guess," Levi sighed, pulling his hands to his face, causing yours -thst never loosened their grip on him- to tag along. Your pointed and middle fingers delicately hung from the space between his thumb and his face, lingering just enough to make your presence still know to him. "I'm a lost cause. If you're looking for romance that is. That's as much as I can do."

Nervously looking back and forth you contemplated on the meaning of his words for a couple of moments, your heart churning as your mind hazed over every single syllabus he had just spoken.

Reluctantly, and only when you made up your mind, your hands came to loosely cup the sides of his sharp face while the gaze you were set to spared on his lips was hesitant and lingering. Your thumb idled with his cheek in soothingly soft circles as your breaths paced back and forth, forming uneven masses of fog inside the frozen room. Yet despite the jawbreaking cold that smothered the two of you in the well known piercing manner, in this very moment everything around you seemed to have gone extinct. Time was slowing down, just for the two of you.

You didn't know what pushed you to act upon that little flicker in your heart, but your head was immediately sent in vertigo as you felt his pointed button nose bump into yours. Nothing could break that moment, nothing could rip you off him now that your lips were hovering dangerously over his. With your trembling hands you pulled him closer, hoping on closing the gab between the two of you.

Your heart hammered in your chest as you steadily engulfed his bottom lip with your own mouth; you moved mellowy, painfully slow as you tried to warm him up, eliciting occasional whines to come out of your own self. It was painful and overally miserable to think about how you managed to drag the actions of your lips against his but your knees were weak with every passing second as you savored his taste.

There wasn't another way to make Levi understand how this over the border peck ignited every flame you had inside of you, but you wished the looked you spared him as you parted could do the job. His gaze was furiously set on you, eyes blinking hard into yours as if trying to predict your very next move. You couldn't simply leave him hanging; there was hunger in his eyes, you recognised as much because you knew him so damn well, thus as if on cue you pressed your lips to his, briefly.

And then you did it again.

And again.

And once more.

And then, before you could repeat the -now familiar- peck you felt his own hands cup the back of your head and in furious movements you were pulled into him, lips colliding and teeth clashing against eachother. It wasn't a serene kiss just like the ones you shared before, this one was sloppy and raw, it took all the air out of your chest and it made you unable to try and seek for oxygen.

Your head was prohibited from moving freely, yet you were mostly dominating over the kiss. With a speactacularly quick wit you sucked on his lips roughly, passionately enough to make him gasp more than a few times. Pulling away from each other wasn't an option -no- you weren't going to take such dispicable chance, you simply tagged on his shagged raven locks before daring to dart the tip of your tongue out of the crevice of your own mouth.

Levi accepted it eagerly, sending his own tongue to welcome yours inside his mouth, occasionally pressing it into his pallette before guiding it on the underside of your tongue. You couldn't know, but he wished your tongue was longer, long enough to reach deeper, simply because he needed it to. There was no explainatiom as to why he enjoyed such sloppy, saliva dripping kiss, but the way you scouted every single inch of his mouth was exciting to a point of no return.

It was only after letting you win over his mouth completely that he pulled back, his hands finally letting go of their grip on the back of head. You stayed in your position, however unable to move, unable to speak, unable to find enough oxygen to fill your lungs with.

"That much.. Sure I can do." Levi coughed.

You simply moved your orbs towards him, wide in despair and surprised by his unmatched sarcasm. Out of breath and flustered enough to ignore the fact that your brain had completely shut off, you hung your head lower before muttering something about having to bring him a cool pad for his injury. Now, you really needed to tend to him in order to repeat that again.

You couldn't help the enchanted smile that masked your face as your finger grazed over your lip, making sure to mesmerize the tingling sensation that boiled inside your swollen pieces of flesh.

Taglist go off 👉🏻👈🏻: @sasageyowrites (love you thanks for reading half of this hshshshhs and telling me it's good) @nobody-knows-anymore (full credit for the line you sent me to include my dear) @ladyofpandemonium @ackermans-freedom-inc @hawkssnugget @berrijam @callmepromise @alrightberries still am I forgetting anyone :( pls tell me if I forgot you, I only have one brain

[kairos-polaris]

Revelations and not so secret crushes

A little gift for @bunathebunny . Also @miraculousmelodies , like I promised

People make mistakes all the time. And it's okay! Failure is a part of progress and if you never fail, then you don't do anything at all.

One may argue that mistaking potions for milk and eating someone's special macaroons wasn't this type of mistake. "He should have been more careful," they say. But did you try to make coffee in a kitchen littered with potions while also being sleep deprived? No? Thought so.

The last paragraph was specifically written for Dick's younger brothers, Jason Todd and Tim Drake. Those two decided that it was a great idea to make fun of their dearest elder brother and his very unfortunate mistake. And even if Tim was perfectly aware of struggles that came with making coffee while being sleep deprived, he didn't have to worry that white liquid may be a potion, not milk.

But in the end Dick was very grateful for that small mistake. It has resolved several conflicts and had very unpredictable consequences.

***

It was morning. Just a normal winter morning. You know, when it's too dark and far too cold and you don't want to leave your bed? That was a morning like that.

Normal men don't get up at six a.m but Richard "Dick" Grayson wasn't one. And it's good, because his family was neither normal nor sane.

"Being normal is boring," his girlfriend, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, would say. If it were someone else, Dick would wholeheartedly agree with them while hanging upside down from the chandelier in the manor.

But because it was Marinette, Dick had to immediately assume she hasn't been sleeping or eating healthy for the last 48 hours. Usually, he was wrong, but he did enjoy taking care of her.

Another proof that shows how much Dick Grayson isn't a normal or sane man is vigilantism. You see, normal people deal with trauma by talking about it with a therapist or their friends. And do you know what did Dick do? He donned his family's colour and decided to beat up criminals. What a great idea! And Bruce Wayne allowed it because, apparently, fighting crime is an appropriate hobby for a nine-year-old boy. (Don't worry, Brucie, we know that Dick Grayson is too stubborn and he forced you to make him your sidekick, we don't blame you much)

No matter how much not normal or insane Dick was, he was a good man who wanted to help people. That's why he didn't complain to Bruce about being tired after patrols. Much.

It didn't mean he didn't complain to Marinette though. Hugs and kisses were an added bonus to her being a very good listener. But that morning Marinette was too busy to even notice him. Dick tried his hardest to swallow his disappointment. He knew how important every commission was to Marinette. It was her passion and her life.

He sighed with the most miserable expression he could muster but Marinette didn't even look up. She continued sewing and ignoring his brilliant performance. Dick huffed with annoyance. How could she ignore him when he was sitting on their bed looking so sad and exhausted and hot?

***

Kitchen was the best room in their apartment. It was also the safest one because of Marinette's protection charms and spells. There was always a faint smell of pastry and delicious food.

Preparing coffee was completely mechanical. His tiredness didn't let him comprehend his own actions. That's why he didn't notice the strange taste of the drink as he should have.

Dick immediately felt better after finishing his coffee. He felt like a burden was lifted from his shoulders. It made him think about Marinette. His lovely girlfriend. He wanted to, no, he craved to see her. He could bet she smelled amazing.

Marinette was still working when he entered their room (she preferred her bedroom to any office). His heart swelled with tenderness at the image before him. Marinette was biting her lip, strands of hair in her face. She was also wearing his sweater, which made him roll his eyes, because it was the very same sweater he had lost. She was so concentrated that she didn't even notice him entering their bedroom.

Dick slowly approached Marinette to not spook her. "I love you, Cupcake," he confessed out of blue. Marinette jumped at the sound of his voice making Dick cringe internally. "I'm sorry for startling you, Mari." The woman just laughed and took off her glasses. Apparently, sewing in deem light isn't good for your eyes. And how could she know that?

"No, don't be sorry. I should pay more attention to my surroundings," Marinette suddenly stopped mid sentence. "I'm sorry for ignoring you earlier, Birdy. Do you want a hug?" Dick grinned at her offer and immediately scooped her in his arms.

"I know it's been a stressful week. What do you think about staying in bed the whole day? We can watch a movie. We can watch the Ladybug one and make fun of inaccuracies. Or any other superhero movie," he ranted excitedly. Marinette laughed a little and pulled back slightly. Dick's was adorable, but Marinette had a feeling that he wouldn't appreciate her laugh.

"I have to finish this dress for Clara, you know that," Marinette sighed tiredly. She really wanted to take a break and spend the day with her boyfriend. He always knew when she was too tired to continue working. Maybe, today was a day like that?

It was unfair to keep Marinette from her passion and Dick knew it. But! He wanted to spend some time with his wonderful girlfriend. It wasn't his fault she was the cutest person he has ever met. And he still couldn't make her choose between her passion and him. Dick sighed and started moving slowly to let Marinette out.

"Hey, I didn't say no," Marinette laughed at his hopeful gaze. "Yes, I would really like to spend more time with you."

And that's how Marinette found herself suffocating in a tight grip of her boyfriend. She actually didn't mind it. Feeling his weight on her body was the best feeling ever. It reminded her that he was with her, grounded her, when she was too concentrated on her work.

Marinette didn't really focus on the movie that was playing. Something was off and she couldn't focus. Dick was talking but she couldn't understand a word so focused on her feelings.

"...Marinette? Marinette?" Dick's worried voice drew her out of haze. She could see concern in his eyes so she tried smiling as reassuring as possible. Dick didn't seem convinced but hard lines on his face relaxed a little bit.

"I'm sorry. I dozed off. Cuddling with you always makes me sleepy, you know that." Dick sighed and hugged her even tighter. "What were you talking about?"

"I wanted your opinion about the next Titan's mission. You see, Wally has offered this strategy…"

Marinette listened to his every word very attentively. His excitement was obvious in every line and small movement. He was proud of Wally and his ideas, he wanted to share it with her.

"Do you know that you've spent more time complimenting Wally than actually relaying his strategy?" Marinette asked with a teasing smile. His face and neck were immediately covered with red spots.

"I… I… I have a crush on Wally!" Dick blurted out and Marinette felt like all air from her lungs disappeared. Colour left Dick's face immediately after realising what he had said. He started babbling how much he loved her, how important she was for him, he kissed her cheeks and hands. But all Marinette could focus on was that… she had lost a bet. Jason would be unbearable for the next several weeks. Or maybe even months. Marinette shuddered at the thought.

"Marinette, please, say something. Please. I'm sorry," Dick was clearly panicking and for a moment Marinette wanted to prank him. Pretend that she was hurt and then explain that it was because of her bet with Jason. But it felt too cruel, so she took his hand and smiled reassuringly.

"I knew it," she said, and Dick's bewildered expression was worth her honesty. "And it's okay, because it's possible to love multiple people at the same time. You loving Wally doesn't mean you don't love me." Dick stayed still for a long moment before leaning to her and knocking her breath out with a kiss. Marinette tried to lean away but he chased her lips every time, continuing kissing her.

"I love you so much. I don't know what I have done to deserve someone like you, but I will keep you until the end of the Universe," he whispered into her lips when they finally pulled a part.

"I love you, too. And falling for you felt like the easiest thing in the world," she said breathlessly, making Dick snort. He let out an involuntary whine when she leaned even further away.

"Why were you so upset?" Dick asked after several minutes of silence. Marinette murmured something into his shirt but he couldn't understand a word. "Can you repeat it please? I didn't understand a word you've said."

"Because I've lost a bet," she repeated just barely louder, but thankfully Dick heard her clearly this time.

"A bet?" he asked with the most confused and bewildered expression possible.

"You see, both Jason and I knew about your crush on Wally. And one day we were bored, so we started talking about you two. Jason said that you would blurt it out during an inappropriate moment but I thought you would sit me down and explain everything. So now, because of you I will have to give Jason 10 dollars," Marinette explained, carefully gouging hir reaction.

Dick prepared himself to hear a lot of different explanations. They varied from "I was surprised and didn't know how to react" to "I am unhappy with this and everything I said was for your comfort". He did not expect that the reason for her surprise was a bet. A bet. With his brother. His brother who also knew about his crush on Wally.

"How… How did you two find out? I thought I was doing a great job concealing my baby crush."

"Oh, it was so hard! You totally don't look at him with a stupid lovesick grin. And you totally don't laugh at his stupid jokes. You don't hold hands and touch each other all the time. You don't look both at me and him when you make jokes or laugh. Oh no! You do all of that and more!" Marinette exclaimed with a fake surprise.

"...I do?" Dick asked, his voice so small. "And you really don't mind it?"

"I really don't mind. As I said before, I'm secure in our relationship and I know that you love me. Also, I really like Wally. You have a good taste," Dick's smile at her words was brighter than thousands of suns. He picked her up and started spinning her around. Marinette's laugh filled their apartment, and in that moment Dick knew everything was going to be alright.

***

Later, much later, Dick was panicking. Everything sounded so easy when Marinette was with him. "Just go and confess to him,"she said. "I'm sure he feels the same," Marinette said, patient as ever, when Dick was panicking about every possible negative outcome.

"What if he rejects me? What if he wants me to break up with you?" he asked Marinette then. He tugged his hair from the frustration, but Marinette just smiled and took his hands.

"If he rejects you, I will hold you until you feel better. We will eat ice cream and watch cheesy movies. And Wally is a good person, I'm sure he would never ask us to break up." Dick briefly thanked all gods for giving him Marinette before leaning in to kiss her.

"I love you," he murmured into her lips.

But now he was alone in their apartment, because, unlike him, Marinette had a job to do. Dick sighed the tenth time in a row. He didn't have to worry about Marinette's reaction to his confession, because she was the one who had asked him out. "I don't hesitate anymore," she had said with a brilliant smile.

Well, Dick knew one thing for sure: he was a coward and would never confess to Wally without Marinette being there. And he couldn't ask anyone for advice. How does one explain that they are in love with two people at the same time? Should he just google it?

His musings were interrupted by a series of long knocks and a loud voice. Was it Jason screaming. "Hey, Dickhead, asking someone to hangout with you and then not showing up is such a dick move!" Yes, that was Jason. Dick scowled before remembering that he had invited Jason and Tim to spend time together.

He grinned and leaped out of the bedroom. Hanging out with his brothers would be a perfect excuse to not confess to Wally! A great timing on their part.

"Hey, guys..!" he was rudely interrupted by a shirt thrown into his face.

"Get dressed, Dickie bird. I don't want to see proofs of you and Pixie having a healthy sexual life." Dick flushed bright red when he realized that he was naked. He ran back to his bedroom followed by both Tim's and Jason's laugh. God, how embarrassing.

***

Wally was bored. He felt like he could die from boredom. And the day had started so nicely. He woke up early and prepared himself a very tasty cup of tea. Wally finished every small task around his apartment. He started reading several different books but none of them piqued his interest. There was nothing interesting on TV.

Wally sighed again. And again. And again. He felt like an aristocrat, laying on his coach with a wine glass full of water in his hand. The only thing missing was a manor. And nicer clothes. And servants. And wine. Actually, a lot of things were missing.

Jason's invitation to hangout felt like a blessing. Finally, something interesting to do. His heart totally didn't flutter in his chest when he found out that Dick would be there, too. No, sir, no. Dick was his best friend and nothing more. He was also dating Marinette, Wally's another very good friend.

Wally was the first one to arrive at the bar Dick had offered to meet in. It took all of his mental strength to not start bouncing from all the energy.

"Hi, Wally," Wally's smile dimmed a little when he realized it was Jason, not Dick. "I thought Dickie would be here first. You know, considering it was his idea."

Wally nodded at Jason's words. He thought he would have at least several minutes alone with Dick, who seemed to avoid him lately. And if he did pay attention to Wally, Marinette would always be there. It wasn't a bad thing per se, because Marinette was amazing, but Wally wanted some alone time with his best bro.

"I wonder why," Wally mussed at loud. Jason smiled in agreement and started talking about neutral themes. Wally could do that. After a day of pure boredom everything was interesting.

Twenty minutes later Tim was there, but Dick was nowhere in sight. Wally frowned. Did something happen? Dick would never miss family hangouts.

"You are late, Replacement," Jason chided Tim, conveniently forgetting he himself came later. Wally laughed at the sheer hypocrisy, but it was a very Jason move.

"Well, Dick is not here, so I don't think it counts," Tim shrugged. He was holding a half-empty cup of coffee (what else could it be?) and clearly needed more sleep. Wally internally shook his head. Sleeping as little as Tim was surely wasn't good for his health. Where were Dick and Bruce looking?

"Where is Dick anyway?" Jason asked, letting out an annoyed huff. "Did he do that so Timmy and I could hang out together? Not a very smart move, because I can just leave now and he will never know."

"He could have just forgotten about it," Wally suggested. He was met with two doubtful gazes. "Yeah, it's very unlikely. Something has happened and he can't leave?"

"Why didn't he say anything then?" Jason asked. He was leaning down on the wall of the bar with a small frown. "We should call him or Marinette."

"Marinette is working so she can't know where he is. We should call Dick directly," Tim said, already holding his phone. He was the one who dialed Dick, but Dick didn't answer not after the first call, nor the second, nor the third. Wally was worried. Dick always answered when someone called. Something must have happened.

"I was right. We should go and check on him. Should we walk or should I run to his apartment?" Wally asked, worry laced in his voice.

"Let's ride. I parked my car nearby," Tim said and turned around, walking to his car. Wally looked at Jason who just shrugged and went after Tim. Well, it seemed like he didn't have a choice then.

The ride to Dick's apartment felt longer than it should have. Wally was burning from all the anxious energy. What if something has happened to Dick? What if they were too late? What if Dick just didn't want to see them? Wally didn't know what would hurt more.

The apartment's doors were locked, which was a good sign. It meant that nobody had broken inside. It also meant that they couldn't enter. Fortunately, Tim had his own key so it wasn't a problem. ("Marinette gave it to me," Tim answered Wally's silent question. "She wanted me to know that I'm always welcome here". "Oh, Pixie didn't give me my own key! Does she not want to see my handsome face?" Jason asked more dramatically than needed. Wally totally wasn't disappointed that he didn't have his own key. It didn't mean that Dick didn't trust him, right?)

The apartment was clean, no visible signs of someone breaking in. Wally looked around, trying to find some clues that would help to understand the situation. Jason yelled something, but Wally didn't pay enough attention to understand him.

Wally turned around at the sound of Dick's voice only to look away immediately. He did not expect to see Dick naked. Wally blushed, thinking about the man's muscles and biceps, small scars on his chest and arms, scratches, and hickeys… Wally paled immediately. Oh, yes, hickeys, because Dick Grayson, his best friend, was dating Marinette Dupain-Cheng and Wally couldn't let himself forget.

It was easier to think after Dick had left. Now, Wally didn't have to use all of his mental strength to not ogle his best friend. Wally wondered why he had reacted this way. It's not like he had never seen Dick naked before. "You saw him when you were changing. You were both naked then. But here, it's much more intimate," his traitorous mind whispered.

"I'm not waiting for the golden boy to get dressed. I'm going to the kitchen. Pixie always has something sweet there," Jason said and walked out of the living room. Wally looked at Tim who just shrugged and followed his brother. Well, it seemed like he had no choice but to go to the kitchen.

The room was full of light and delicious smells. The table was littered with numerous vials, pastry, herbs, and other things Wally couldn't identify. He breathed out, feeling more relaxed than ever, despite his complicated feelings. Marinette's presence and influence were obvious there, and she always had the way to make people feel better. She was just magic that way.

"Wally! I didn't know you were here," Dick's excited voice interrupted his thoughts. Wally didn't even hear him coming in. Do not think about his body. Do not think about his body. Do not think about his body. "I'm really sorry about forgetting our hangout. I'm deeply ashamed."

"You wish I said "it's okay, I forgive you". But I won't! I will always tease you about it, so get ready!" said Jason, while rummaging through a freezer. "Where is milk, Dickhead? I wanted to make a cup of tea for myself, but I can't find anything here."

"Oh, we ran out of milk," Dick replied easily before a panicked expression settled on his face. "Wait… If we ran out of milk, then what did I add to my coffee this morning?"

"Welp, I hope it wasn't one of Marinette's potions," Wally offered sympathetically, but one look at Dick's panicked expression hinted that it was most likely what had happened. And wasn't that funny? Judging by Jason's laugh, he also thought it was hilarious.

"We can call her and ask about the effects of that particular potion?" Tim offered, trying to be serious but burst out laughing. Dick did not appreciate the lack of concern from his brothers. What if the potion hurt him and the effects could never be reversed? "It's very funny, but we really should call Marinette. We don't know how it can affect Dick. It could be really harmful," Tim said after calming down. Even Jason stopped laughing.

They did call Marinette. It must have been the smartest decision in several hours. But she didn't answer. Calling her five more times didn't help. They just were directed to voicemail. Marinette's cheery voice telling them "Hi! You've reached Marinette Dupain-Cheng. I'm very sorry, but I'm busy and can't answer you right now. You can leave me a message and I will call you later! Bye!" didn't help.

"And what should we do?" Wally asked, interrupting the awkward silence. Well, it wasn't awkward per se, but Jason desperately trying and failing to suppress his laugh did make Dick feel uncomfortable.

"You can try and recall everything that happened. This way we can know how exactly the potion affected you," Tim offered with a small shrug. "Start from the morning and up until this moment."

"I was really tired after patrol last night, so I tried complaining to Marinette, but she was too busy so she ignored me. I decided to make a cup of coffee. I actually felt better after it, but I had this strange need to go and hug Marinette, tell her how much I love her." Wally totally didn't feel a pang in his chest. He wasn't jealous. He didn't want Dick to confess to him, because they were best friends and nothing more.

"What happened next? Or are you hiding something?" Seemingly innocent questions (especially, considering it was Jason who asked) flustered Dick so much he was completely red. He's so handsome…no, bad, Wally, stop. "Oh, you are hiding something."

"Marinette and I cuddled, while watching movies," Dick answered, still as red as a tomato. "And then we had sex!"

Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't jealous Wally wasn't… Oh, he was so jealous

This time silence was certainly awkward. Very awkward. Dick was burning from embarrassment. Wally was trying to convince himself he wasn't jealous. Tim was thinking about anything other than his brother's love life.

And only Jason was amused. The day was working out great for him. He won 10 dollars. Yes, it wasn't much, but the satisfaction of winning the bet with Marinette was worse so much more. It would be even better if Dick blurted out that he has a crush on Wally with him nearby. But it seemed that his dearest older brother would rather embarrass himself than confess.

"Is it everything? Because I think you have left out something," but Dick just glared at him. Well, time for big guns. "Were you and Pixie talking about something? Something very important? Something that will have a big influence on your relationship?" he then feigned a scandalised gasp. "Did you confess that you have cheated on her?! Did you cheat on Marinette?!"

Dick's glare was the funniest thing in the world, and Jason's snickers just made him angrier. "Nothing like! I just told her that I have a crush on Wally!" His satisfied expression slowly morphed into one of shock. "I meant to say that I had told her about my crush on Wally! No, not that! About patrol! Yes, patrol!"

"Your crush on me?" Wally asked, his voice small and soft. He clearly was shocked by Dick's confession. He looked even more surprised than Dick was. "Are you serious?"

Tim felt like he was in a tv drama. Secret crushes? Check? Oblivious main characters? Check? Mean brother Jason? Check. The drama of the reveal? Check. Friends to lovers? Check? Another love interest? Check. The only difference was Marinette. That woman certainly wasn't the "evil and annoying wife". He briefly wondered how she had reacted, but judging that Dick was still alive she was very nice.

"How unpredictable, how surprising," Jason stage whispered, leaning down to Tim. This time both Wally and Dick glared, which was somehow even more amusing. Even Tim was cackling.

"Get out of here. I… Wally and I have to talk about my stupid slip. Go!" Dick shouted, basically throwing them out of the kitchen. Tim and Jason exchanged a knowing look and burst out laughing. Knowing that it pissed Dick off made them laugh even harder.

Dick didn't know what to say or how to react. He wanted to wait for Marinette to confess to Wally. She would know what to say and how to explain his feelings better than he could ever do. Her presence would give him strength and courage. He didn't want to blurt it out. Again. He was an idiot and Wally would never like him back.

"So, you like me?" Wally asked with a nervous chuckle. His crush liked him. His crush liked him. His crush liked him. Wally could not believe it was real and he wasn't dreaming.

"I..yes. Yes, I do," Dick stated, more confident than before. "You are smart, amazing, and incredible. You have a beautiful smile that lights up every room. Your plans are brilliant, but you don't always see it. You are very important to me so yes, I like you."

Wally felt like his head was spinning from Dick's compliments and the sincerety in his eyes. Blush rised to his cheeks. He was at loss of words. How should he react?! Compliment him back?

"I… I really like you, too," Wally finally answered, his throat dry from nerves. Dick broke in a brilliant, brighter than the sun grin. "How did Marinette react to that?"

"Do you want her exact words or just generally?" Dick asked, raising an eyebrow.

"Generally."

"Well, she said that polyamory exists and that me loving you doesn't mean I love her any less," Dick answered with the same gentle smile he always had when talking about Marinette. But this time Wally didn't feel envious or jealous. Dick suddenly looked more nervous than before. "Would you date me? You don't have to date Marinette, but I don't want to break up with her, you know?"

Wally didn't know. He has heard about polyamory and open relationships before, of course. He didn't know what to do or how to act. Would he and Marinette have to share Dick? Would they have a schedule, so they could spend time with Dick? Would they have to be together all the time? But Wally did know that honesty was important in every type of relationship so he took a deep breath and explained everything to Dick.

"Well, neither I nor Marinette have the experience of dating two people at once, so we will have to figure it out. Trials and errors, you know?" Dick offered with a small 0shrug. He looked away, suddenly more nervous than before. His main concern was confessing to Wally, he didn't think how the whole thing would work. "We can try anyway."

"We can try, yeah," Wally repeated with a small smile.

"Now kiss!" Jason groaned from annoyance and lack of patience. Dick felt blush from embarrassment (the amount of times he blushed today was concerning). Jason was not affected by his glare at all. "Well, I'm waiting. Marinette wanted to see your first kiss and I promised her to take a picture," he said gesturing to his phone.

"We won't kiss on camera. We can wait for Marinette," he growled before realising that he hadn't asked Wally how he would feel. Dick could hope the sudden realisation wasn't obvious, but judging by Jason's and Tim's expressions they both have noticed. Nothing to lose then. "Would you mind kissing me with Marinette there? I don't want to make you uncomfortable."

Wally was silent for a moment before shrugging nonchalantly. "We can try, I guess," he said before realising one very crucial detail Dick had missed. "When did you two return? Because I remember Dick throwing you out of here."

"When Dick confessed to you? I'm not sure," Tim said with the same tone one would discuss weather, not their brother's love life. Jason nodded in agreement. "Now, we can leave you two alone. Right, Jason?"

"Eh, we all have to make sacrifices for the happiness of our elder brothers," Jason said with a dramatic gasp, but nothing new, nothing new. "Let's go, Timmy, let's go. We are not welcome here." Wally could swear he had heard Tim mutter "it's not like I am the one who suggested to leave" under his breath.

"So, are we waiting for Marinette?" he asked with a nervous chuckle. God, having Dick's undivided attention and being completely alone with him was a nerve-wracking experience. Wally locked his eyes on Dick's lips. They looked even better than usual. Was it because he could kiss him now? Must be. "No, I wanted to kiss you for too long to wait even a second more," Dick murmured before leaning towards Wally.

Kissing Dick blew up his mind. It wasn't something Wally hoped would ever happen but desperately wanted to. Dick's lips were a little bit chapped, just enough to notice but not enough to make their kiss uncomfortable. Wally didn't want to lean away even for a second to take a breath. If it was his last kiss with Dick (and it certainly wasn't), he would enjoy for as long as he could.

"It was just like I imagined it," Wally blurted out when they stopped kissing. He felt breathless and higher than ever.

"So you imagined kissing me?" Dick asked with a smug smile. "Well, I am me and I'm awesome."

"Where was the confidence when you were panicking about confessing to Wally?" Dick and Wally immediately wiped their head towards the voice. There was standing Marinette with a teasing smile and a Polaroid in her hands. "Don't worry! I wasn't standing here creepily and watching you two make out! I just took a photo and left immediately. Didn't want to intrude," she explained upon noticing Dick's and Wally's reaction.

"Why did you take a photo?" asked Dick.

"For my scrapbook, my heart. I have a photo of our first kiss, our first date, from the day we moved in, and when we finally organized everything. And I wanted to have photos of every important milestone in your relationship, too," Marinette explained, while moving gracefully around the kitchen. Her chaotic moves seemed to have a complicated system Dick couldn't understand.

Wally… didn't know what to say. Sure, he knew that Marinette wasn't against their relationship, but he didn't expect her to be so supportive and kind. He felt warmth bloom in his chest. He wasn't in love with Marinette, but right at that moment, in hers and Dick's cluttered kitchen, he felt like falling for her was the easiest thing ever.

But they still had some questions for Marinette to answer.

"Marinette, you love me, right?" Dick waited for Marinette to nod in agreement before continuing talking. "I may or may not have drunk one of your potions! But it was an accident!"

Marinette sighed tiredly. Then she sighed again. And again. And again. Wally stopped counting after five consecutive sighs. She pinched the bridge of her nose before talking again. "It's okay. I shouldn't leave my potions in the kitchen if I don't want anyone to accidentally drink them. I'm not mad, not disappointed. Accidents happen and it's not your fault. I just need you to tell me from what vial you took it and how it affected you, okay?"

It didn't take long for Marinette fo realise what potion Dick had taken. And when she did, she burst out laughing. Unfortunately, Dick and Wally didn't share her knowledge of magic, so they couldn't appreciate the irony of the situation without her help.

"I've been trying to make a way to free kwami. Tbe potion you've drunk? It's a result of my experiments. It didn't free kwami but it freed you," Marinette explained before laughing again. And this time Dick and Wally did join her.

[cuddlepilefics]

The lights went out

Fandom: Stray Kids

Sickie: Felix

Caregiver: mostly 3racha

 request by @kilixsstuff

Noone’s POV.:

It was late at night, when Felix startled from his sleep. He was drenched in sweat and disoriented. It was still dark outside, so the young Aussie had no idea what had woken him up. Seeing he still had three hours left till they needed to get up, Felix tried to go back to sleep but sleep wouldn’t come. Instead he became more aware of his sweat-soaked shirt and decided to change it quickly. The moment he got off the bed however, the room spun and his stomach turned along with the shift of his vision. Once he became of the nausea licking at the back of his throat, it was impossible to ignore it. Figuring it was better to move to the bathroom, just in case, the boy supported himself against the wall and snuck off as quiet as possible to not wake his roommates. On shaky legs he stumbled to the bathroom, flinching when the light stabbed his eyes. Only now did Felix become aware of the headache pounding mercilessly behind his brow. Switching off the light again, the dancer sat in the dark room, leaning against the bathtub close to the toilet. His mouth was watering and getting too tired and nauseous to swallow it all back, he hung his head over the bowl and just let it drip. True, he felt absolutely disgusting doing it but the boy was still sleepy. His eyelids kept closing and he was slowly drifting off again, when suddenly his body convulsed, sending a stream of last night’s dinner past his lips with barely any warning. Being startled awake again, the Aussie tried to suppress the next gag that pulled at his throat. He soon lost the fight, retching up more. Felix desperately tried to stay quiet, despite always craving comfort when he wasn’t feeling well, he didn’t want to wake any of his members. They were all exhausted and needed their sleep. His plan to let them sleep started to waver when a forceful heave scraped his throat and brought tears to his eyes. The soft sniffles turned into weak sobs, which turned into stronger hiccups that shook his frame and upset his stomach more, causing him to choke up small waves every now and then. By now his throat was on fire and his head thumped more than ever. Felix wouldn’t have found the strength to get up again, if it wasn’t for the chills, convincing him he wanted a warm shower and one of Chan’s sweaters over anything else, even if that meant he had to move.  

Getting his shirt of was a struggle. The damp fabric clung to the dancer’s back and his arms were felt weak and heavy. When the shirt finally came off, his arms shook from the effort. Felix sat in the shower and let the water run down his head and back, making his hair stick to his forehead. The hot water soothed the both, the chills and his aching muscles, when did they even get so sore anyways? The dancer completely lost track of time, not getting around to washing his hair because lifting his arms sounded way too exhausting to him. Instead, he stared into the drain for what felt like forever, dozing off, only to be brought back to his senses by the clenching of his stomach. Barely even trying, a weak gag brought up some bile. Dazed, Felix watched the small yellow trickle make its way to the drain. With a sigh, he turned off the water and forced himself up on shaky legs.

Wrapped in his towel, the young Aussie snuck back to his room, putting on loose sweatpants and stealing one of Chan’s hoodies from the leader’s closet, before curling up on his bed. They’d have to get up in thirty minutes anyways, so going back to sleep was not an option. Today their schedule consisted mostly of recording, so he was glad about not having to move too much. What he dreaded though, was the concert they’d have that night, which was also the reason he couldn’t tell his members about not feeling well. If he did, they’d probably nap while waiting for his turn to record but they’d also make him sit out during their concert and that was not an option. Felix loved Stay and would feel guilty if he didn’t give them his best, so he had to hide his struggle from his friends. He was mostly worried about Chan finding out, because the leader was so attentive and would always notice such things. The younger of the two Aussies usually hated when the other was stressed but today it was exactly what he hoped for, so the older wouldn’t pay as close attention to him.

When their alarm rang, Felix was immediately got up and got ready to ensure nobody would get the feeling he was lagging behind. “Hey Lix, are you not going to have breakfast with us?”, Changbin questioned, making Chan frown at the younger Aussie. The dancer paled at the thought of food but quickly managed to come up with an excuse: “I woke up really early today, hyung. Sorry, I already got hungry and didn’t wait for you.” The rapper accepted this with a nod, knowing the younger hated to resist his hunger and would usually eat right after getting up. To Felix this was the perfect strategy because he couldn’t possibly throw up again, if there was nothing inside him. Not being able to be around food, the boy went back to his room to wait for the others to get ready to head out. Being alone in his room also allowed him to let his guard down for only a bit, so he curled in on himself hugging one of his plushies and closing his eyes. “Hey, are you sure, you’re ok, Lixxie?”, Chan asked when he walked into their room to change. Startling, the younger sat up and forced a small and tired smile onto his face: “Don’t worry, hyung. I couldn’t sleep properly and was awake really early, so I’m kinda tired.” – “Ah, it’s ok. Maybe you could nap for a bit when it’s not your turn to record”, Chan offered, lifting a huge weight off the younger’s chest. Felix would get the chance to sleep at least a bit of his illness away without anyone noticing because they knew he was tired. “Thanks Channie”, he nodded and they both headed out.

The car ride to the studio was hell for Felix, the movement of the vehicle made his stomach churn and he could feel the small amount of liquid he drank slosh painfully with each turn of the road. Quietly, he rested his head on Jeongin’s shoulder and closed his eyes. The maknae giggled cutely and pet his hyung’s hair, whispering: “You really didn’t sleep much, hyungie?” The dancer shook his head, keeping his eyes shut. His members frowned in sympathy. They barely got enough sleep with the tight schedule they usually had, so not being able to sleep during a more relaxed night really sucked. Especially when there was a concert the next day. “If you want to, you can sleep on me when we’re at the studio, so you’ll be well rested for the concert later”, Changbin chuckled, smiling at the small “please”. They were all fine with Felix taking it a bit slower than usual and not being as energetic as usual. The dancer was glad about the affection he got from his friends without them even knowing how miserable he really felt.

Felix took Changbin up on his offer of becoming the Aussie’s human pillow as soon as they arrived at the studio. He was scheduled rather late anyways, so might as well get some sleep now. Only waking up again, when Changbin had to get up to record, Felix was hit with a wave of intense nausea and quickly got up. He tried to walk at a natural pace till he exited the room, then he darted down the hallway and bursting into the restroom. The dancer barely made it in time to retch up some watery bile. He was stunned that he even had anything in him to bring up but didn’t have much time to ponder on it before hunching over again. The strain made his already achy head pound harder and his throat burn. The dancer fought to settle his rebelling stomach, which was still trying to bring something up when there was nothing inside. When he was finally able to stop gagging, Felix tried to get up to rinse his mouth and wash his face but the combination of fever and skipping breakfast, not to mention the amount of sleep he lost, he was too weak and just fell back down. The Aussie was ready to break into tears right then and there but held it together. Trying again, Felix used the wall to pull himself up and took a second to get used to being upright. When the ground stopped moving under his feet, he quickly cleaned himself up and hurried to get back to his group, planning to find some gum to rid his mouth of the rancid taste.

“Hey, just in time. It’s your turn”, Seungmin announced when Felix walked in, “Whoa are you ok? You look shitty.” The young Aussie nodded and walked past his dongsaeng, ignoring a giggling Hyunjin: “And that, Felix, is exactly why it is called beauty-sleep.” – “Hey! I tried”, he whined, his voice even lower than usual. The poor boy was too out of it to notice the concerned frowns from his hyungs, while he was ushered into the recording booth. With his abused throat still on fire, the dancer did not have a good time recording. The notes wouldn’t come out clearly and his voice just sounded weak and flat. Of course, the producer was not amused, urging Felix to try harder and of course the Aussie did. Despite the dark spots dancing in his vision, he stayed upright, going over the same line again and again and again. Being a rapper, he had to pronounce words in a language that wasn’t his native fast and clearly. “Felix-si, you’re slurring your words. Once more and try to put some more power behind it. Your voice sounds flat”, the producer instructed, annoyance showing through.

Not really knowing what was happening, Felix was pulled from the recording booth before even getting to try again. Jisung had their arms linked and gently guided his twin back to the couch, while Chan spoke to the producer. The leader’s face was serious and his voice stern before he nodded and thanked the producer. “Hey mate, you don’t have to finish today. The producer agreed to let you do it tomorrow when you caught up on some sleep”, the oldest smiled comfortingly. He was taken aback when a small tear spilled from his dongsaeng’s eye and quickly wrapped the younger in a hug. Felix returned the hug, although he wasn’t strong enough to hold on as tightly as usual. Chan got closer to his ear, whispering quiet enough for only the dancer to hear: “You feel pretty warm to me, are you sure you’re alright?” Nodding against the older’s chest, Felix straightened up and dried his eyes, only to be met with the worried ones of his friends’. “It’s just the lack of sleep making him emotional and more sensitive”, the leader answered the unspoken question and Felix breathed in relief that his cover was still intact. Jisung came over, a small frown still present on his face when he announced: “Yah! Squirrel wants cuddles. Innie still needs to record anyways, so it’s your obligation to cuddle me.” Felix gave a small smile and gladly curled up in the shorter boy’s arms. It didn’t even take him a full minute to nod off, while his friend stroked his slightly sweat-dampened hair. Jisung came to the same conclusion as Chan when his hand lingered around the younger’s forehead for a moment. He made eye-contact with the leader and they agreed without words to keep a close eye on their dongsaeng. While cuddling Felix’ stomach growled loud enough for Jisung to hear, so the rapper gently rested his palm on the younger’s middle and felt it rumble uncomfortably beneath his fingers. It might just be hunger but with the unnatural heat the boy was radiating, he was almost sure his friend was sick. Now that he thought about it, Felix had also spent a pretty long time in the bathroom earlier.

Felix stayed asleep, even when Chan carried him to the car that would take them to the venue they’d perform at. He had apparently slept through lunch, which worried Chan because his alleged breakfast had been a long time ago and Felix was already weak from the lack off sleep and possible illness, so going on stage without a proper meal was probably not the best idea. The dancer still didn’t wake up when Jisung got him situated in the car and buckled his seatbelt. Despite most of the members chuckling at how wiped their friend was, they agreed to let him get as much sleep as possible before the show. When they arrived at the venue, everybody entered, except for Changbin, who was tasked with waking Felix up. The younger didn’t seem very pleased at being pulled from his rest but let the rapper pull him along anyways. “Are you sure you can do this, Lix? If you’re not up for the show, I’m sure we can have you sit out somehow”, the older worried. He knew something had to be up because he had seen Felix sleep-deprived before and it wasn’t the same. “Of course! Binnie-hyung, we’ve all performed with even less sleep before. I’ll be fine, just….”, Felix hesitated, “can I have cuddles tonight? I just.. I always…. You know, it helps me sleep…” – “Sure thing, just don’t hurt yourself during the show”, Changbin smiled, giving the younger a quick side-hug before walking into their dressing room.

The time passed without Felix even noticing. He barely payed any attention to his surroundings because his nausea had reached another peak and he was debating whether to go and get rid of some stomach acid before going on stage. The decision was made for him, when he was pushed and suddenly found himself on stage, stage lights burning down on him mercilessly. He felt bile rising in his throat, the sensations of a screaming crowd and blinding lights too much for his fever frazzled brain. Felix took deep breaths through his nose, willing the nausea away, while Chan greeted the crowd. Soon the first song started to play and they got onto their starting positions. The dancer was terrified, remembering all the spins and turns he’d be doing in the next two hours. The first song went unexpectedly well and the young Aussie’s nerves eased a bit. His movements were a bit less sharp than usual but the only people who could tell were his members. Felix head swam, he felt way too hot for comfort and no matter how much he breathed, it didn’t feel like there was enough air. He knew he was probably dehydrated but he didn’t dare to even touch his water bottle. The dancer was proved right when after a jump, his stomach lurched into his throat, filling his mouth with pure stomach acid. He quickly swallowed it back down, which only burned his throat once more, without missing a single beat with his steps. Dancing was truly his element but right now it was one of the last things he wanted to do. With each grueling choreo, the dancer kept bringing up small amounts of bile, always facing them back down. He didn’t think anyone really noticed but it certainly showed in his voice. His voice got weaker and hoarser, despite him straining to make it sound powerful. They hadn’t even reached the half when his members had to start giving him background vocals. Mostly it were Changbin and Jisung, sometimes Chan.

Felix impressed himself when he walked off the stage after the last stage, without passing out somewhere in between or covering the stage in puke. Having sweat a lot from all the dancing, the boy finally allowed himself a drink. The cool water felt soothing on his throat and it washed away the bitter taste that he hadn’t been able to get rid of. Before he knew it, Felix had chugged the entire bottle, already gulping down the second when he was stopped by Chan’s hand on his wrist: “Hey, slow down mate! You’ll make yourself sick.” The dancer suddenly paled, noticing how bad of a mistake he had made because his hyung was certainly right about worry. “You ok?”, the leader frowned as he noticed his dongsaeng standing completely frozen. The younger replied with an urgent shake of the head before giving a wet burp. Chan silently cursed, dragging Felix towards the closest restroom. The younger knew, he wouldn’t be able to make it in time but he still made an effort to quickly follow his hyung, not wanting to make a mess. They almost made it, when the dancer suddenly stumbled, catching himself with an arm against the wall. A gush of water shot past his lips, splashing onto the ground, only to be joined by another, bigger wave. The sick boy, coughed, choking as he tried to get a breath in before bending over with his hands on his knees and throwing up again. Chan had an arm looped around the younger’s waist to steady him, while his other hand delivered firm pats between the younger’s shoulder blades to clear his airways again. Having caught his breath, Felix straightened back up, gripping onto Chan’s arm as his world was sent spinning. The leader switched from patting his back to rubbing it comfortingly as he took in the younger’s appearance. The dancer was even more drenched in sweat than any of them, his eyes were glazed over with circles so dark that not even his concealer could hide them. Felix swallowed thickly, chapped lips forming a small pout when the tears finally came.  Heart clenching in sympathy, the older pulled him close to both comfort and steady him because the dancer looked like he’d topple over at any second. The moment only lasted a split second though, because Felix was quick to push Chan away, heaving violently. Despite the obvious effort, only a small stream of water came up. He spat, trying to get rid of the stubborn string of saliva that dangled from his lips, when suddenly the lights went out and his knees buckled.

The only thing that kept Felix from falling into the puddle by his feet were Chan’s strong arms around his small waist. Although he was incredibly worried, it wasn’t like the leader hadn’t expected him to faint at some point, so it didn’t come as too much of a shock. Carefully, he pulled the younger a few steps away and sat down on the ground with an unconscious Felix in his lap. The older used this opportunity to feel for a fever before lightly patting his dongsaeng’s pale cheeks. With the scalding temperature of his forehead, one would expect Felix to be sporting a noticeable blush but he was just so pale that the makeup looked wrong on him. His breathing was still quickened and shallow when his eyebrows twitched, wrinkling his forehead. “Lix, hey you with me?”, Chan asked gently, glad that they were in an empty hallway away from the chaos of their dressing room. The younger just groaned before blinking his eyes only to squeeze them shut again. Felix took his time to fully wake up, while Chan glanced at the puddle of sick a few feet away. It was plainly clear water, not even a hint of undigested food residues. That’s when he remembered the younger sleeping through lunch. Now that he thought of it, he also hadn’t seen Felix have dinner and with how hard the dancer was trying to cover up him being sick, that could likely have been a lie. The dancer tried to sit up, falling right back into the older’s lap before rasping a confused: “Hyung?” – “It’s ok, Lixxie. You just blacked out for a second”, Chan soothed, trying to sound as calm as possible, “you’re also sporting quite a fever. You were aware you were sick?” Defeated and ashamed for lying, Felix gave a small nod before covering his face. The leader ran a hand through his dongsaeng’s sweaty bangs to let him know it was ok before speaking up again: “Do you think we should go to the hospital? You passed out and you still don’t look to great.” The younger shook his head, this time succeeding to sit up. “Can we go home? I wanna sleep and Binnie promised me cuddles”, the dancer mumbled.

Chan agreed and ended up carrying Felix back to their dressing room. The younger had used up more energy during the show than he had to begin with. Changing and getting his makeup removed happened in a blur for Felix but he recognized Chan’s hoodie, when he was carried to the car. He was sitting between Changbin and Jisung, the younger stuffing a few plastic shopping bags into the slit between the seats for quick and easy access, should Felix need to be sick again. Chan had told the members about what happened and why they had been gone for so long. The group had quickly come down from their post-performance hype and discussed whether taking the young Aussie home was really that great of an idea. The leader had shushed them stating, they could still take him to a hospital later, should he get any worse. The oldest knew about Felix hatred for hospitals and wanted to give him the chance of recovering in a surrounding he was comfortable with.

Felix slept through the entire car ride, staying asleep when Changbin carried him into the building and up to their dorm. They had been debated on whether the dancer should still take a shower before bed, because he had sweat the most out of all of them and would definitely not be able to rest comfortably like that. Reminding them Felix wasn’t able to stand by himself, Chan proposed letting the other have a short cool bath, that way they might as well lower his fever. It would make all of them wait for their shower longer but nobody minded, pitying their sunshine after learning why he had been so drained today. Jisung ran the bath, using only lukewarm water and a soap with a very discreet scent, not wanting to overwhelm his twin. Changbin helped a drowsy Felix out of his clothes and supported his weight when the dancer struggled to climb into the tub. Chan soon returned with a fresh set of clothes, consisting of a set of his sweatpants and a large sweater from Changbin. The younger Aussie was already starting to drift to sleep in the water, so the leader gently helped him sit up and washed his hair, as he both tried to make it feel nice but also finish quickly, so the dancer could get his much-needed sleep. As soon as they had Felix in his fresh clothes, the oldest carried him to the room they shared with Changbin and tucked the younger in. Changbin was the first of them to be granted with a shower, so he could make up on the promise he had given to Felix. Finishing up as quickly as he could, the rapper snuck into his room, quiet so he wouldn’t wake Felix, who was most likely already asleep. Chan had already placed a bucket next to the dancer’s bed and there were an electrolyte drink and a bottle of plain water on the nightstand. Changbin carefully slipped into bed next to Felix and held him close after a quick kiss on his feverish forehead.

[nicolewoo]

Yo, Jamie!!! It’s almost done.

Pairing: King Roman Reigns X Female reader

Warnings: None

My average day was a controlled chaos. Everyone wanted an audience with the king, and I had to know what issues were pressing, which nobles I could and couldn’t talk to, and a million other details. All of these things weighed on me daily. Now, with my mother and the church pressing me to take a bride, I’d reached a breaking point.

 After I had yelled at a servant for no reason, Charles the Lord of Sussex and my most trusted advisor and friend, suggested we take a few hours to go riding this morning. He’d been right, too. A few hours away from the castle and the nobles was exactly what I needed.

 We’d tried to slip out before the sun rose so we could avoid anyone, but as we prepared to leave the grounds, the Captain of the Guard saw us. Christopher was a tall lanky man with almost no hair anymore and an unfortunate habit of rubbing his face when he was nervous. Now, as he insisted that the king should not ride un-escorted, his hand brushed over his face repeatedly.

 “Your highness, we have hundreds of nobles arriving this week. I’m afraid there will be more thieves in the forest. I’ve got plenty of guards on the road, but if you’ll be avoiding the road,” he eyed me suspiciously, knowing I never stayed on the road, “I insist you take a couple of guards.”

I begrudgingly agreed but told the guards to stay far back from us unless we encountered other people.

Charles and I enjoyed a very peaceful ride, stopping once for a cleansing swim in a river and to eat some bread and cheese Charles packed. “My friend, you’ve done me a great service today.” I said as I lounged shirtless on a patch of grass soaking in the sun.

 Charles cocked his head a bit as if surprised to hear a compliment. “It’s my pleasure, sire. You needed a break.”

 “I guess we should head back.” I admitted as I stood and finished getting dressed. Charles finished a minute before me and packed up the rest of the food. Once mounted on my horse, I hesitated to leave. “I wish I could do this every day, like we did when we were kids.”

 Charles smiled at me. “You were never destined to a life of leisure, Your Highness. God chose you to be a wise and fair king who is building a greater country and a greater world.” He whistled to the guards I’d forgotten were even with us, and they mounted their horses to follow us. “Besides, you’d be miserable if you lived a quiet, boring life.” We both laughed.

 Finding a slow trot, Charles and I continued talking, mostly about Charles’s sexual conquests. As a young, unmarried titled man, he had his choice of lovers in the court, and none of them ever kept his attention for more than a few months. Knowing I’d be married off one day in a probable political move, I’d chosen to be much less adventurous. I’d enjoyed the affections of a couple of women, but I never knew if it was because they liked me or the idea of becoming a queen. Now that I was king, I was too busy, too stressed, too careful. I noticed the ladies at court. There were a couple of fetching noble women, but none that sparked anything even close to passion.

 I knew it was time to marry. I wanted to get married, but for love. Instead, women from around the world were invading my castle, and I was to meet every single one of them in a week-long quest to find a wife. Not only would my attendance be necessary at every meal and every social occasion, I was to meet each potential candidate in person and in private (with a chaperone), a task I was dreading. Meeting after meeting of women throwing themselves at my feet trying to become the next queen.

 “Are you ok, highness?” Charles’s voice broke me out of my worry.

 “Just thinking about this week.” I admitted to him.

 Charles thought for a moment before talking. “I envy you. You’ll have your choice of women. If I were you, I’d bed whichever ones I wanted. You could have a wife and mistress by the end of the week.”

 Of course, he was excited about the prospect of more women at court. “My friend, I believe you’re going to bed many of them this week.” I chuckled.

 Charles laughed with me, “Not until Your Royal Highness has ruled them out as your future queen.”

 “Well then, I’ve finally found the worth of being a king. I don’t have to accept your discarded women.” I stopped my horse at a river so both of us could drink. Charles pulled up besides us and jumped off his horse too.

 Charles’s laugh rang out over the forest. “Would that be so bad?”

 “Your prowess is well known, and I’ve seen ladies after you’ve spent an evening with them. I’d be afraid I’d disappoint.” I said.

 Charles smiled shyly. “Sire, you know whomever you choose must be pure.”

 I laughed now, “Are there any pure women anymore?”

 “On my oath sire, I’ve tried to ensure there are no virgins in this country. That’s why we are importing new virgins from other countries to meet you.” Charles teased before becoming serious. “I have a great feeling about this week, sire. I honestly think you’ll meet a fetching young bride from some exotic country that needs an alliance with us and you’ll find some measure of joy in your marriage.”

 “An alliance?” I looked down in disappointment and patted my mare on the neck reassuringly. “I’m afraid that’s all my marriage will be about.”

 “I’m telling you sire,” Charles said as he bent low to fill his water skin, “I believe you will find someone who will give you a cordial marriage.”

 “Cordial? I guess love is too much to hope for.” I hopped back on my horse.

 Charles mounted his horse too and we began a slow trot through the woods. “That’s what the mistress is for.” I knew he was jesting, but the seriousness of the whole situation fell on me again as we rode.

 Why was I forbidden to marry for love? Why was I born to be king? “Let’s speak of other things. Our ride was supposed to distract me.”

  Charles was always quick to raise my spirits. “The delegation from the Arabian Peninsula is bringing you a dozen stallions when they arrive. It’s said their horses are the best.”

At my happy expression he continued. “As soon as they arrive, I’ll let you know. Maybe you can find a few free moments to go see them.”

That sounded great. “Thank you. Not just for letting me know when the horses arrive. Thank you  for today. I needed this.” Charles gave me a respectful nod as his answer. I inhaled the forest air, trying to etch the memory of it into my mind to carry me through this busy week.

“Care to race, Your Highness?” Charles challenged. I didn’t answer but tapped my horse’s side to gallop full speed. I heard Charle’s call of “Not fair.” As I took the lead. He caught up quickly and we raced for a long while.

Realizing I was only hastening my journey back to the castle and my royal obligations, I slowed us down again and we rode in silence for a few short minutes before we heard the ping of metal hitting metal.

“Let the guards go first” Charles suggested.

Metal on metal usually meant swords, so I agreed. I motioned to the guards, and they rode ahead of us for a minute. As we neared the top of a hill, one of the guards motioned that it was safe. I looked ahead and saw a carriage with a wheel off on the King’s Road. “Let’s go help.” I said to the guards.

Peter, a thin young guard with messy hair and a patchy beard answered. “Your Highness, I can take care of this.” He motioned to the younger guard next to him. “William can protect you on the way to the castle if you’d like.”

In that carriage was surely one of my potential brides coming to the castle to meet with me. Yes, I wanted to escape, but maybe I could sneak a peek. If she was fetching, it could go a long way to easing my fears. If she was unattractive, at least I’d be prepared for my meeting with her. I trotted closer to the guard and took in the whole scene in front of me.

Not only had the wheel fallen off; it was stuck under the now emptied carriage. The ladies in waiting and an elderly man I assumed was the driver were seated on a blanket off to the side while what seemed to be the lady of the carriage tried to lift the vehicle.

She’d managed to get a small log on a rock and was trying to pry the carriage up using her body weight. It wasn’t working, but from where I was standing, I got a full view of a truly amazing bottom swaying with her efforts. I was so amused, I pondered not offering her help just to see how she’d do.

 Just as I was about to speak, she defiantly stuck her chin out and looked around my guards locking her eyes on me. “Must I ask for assistance or will it be offered?” She spit the words out like weapons.

 She was the most beautiful woman I’d ever seen, despite the dirt all over her and hair falling out of it’s restrains and trailing down her neck. Her dress was beautiful despite the oil and dirt covering it. It was wrecked though.  

 She dabbed at some sweat on her forehead with a ragged piece of cloth and ended up smearing dirt on her face.

 Charles leaned forward a bit, “It will do you well to watch your tone in front of...”

 I interrupted, “The Lord of Sussex.” I had stolen Charles’s title, and he gaped after me in confusion. I shot him a look that convinced him to keep quiet.

 She seemed more contrite now. “My apologies, My Lord.” She curtsied a bit.

 I smiled down at her. “Think nothing of it.” I looked at Charles now. “Mister Brandon, Shall we assist this damsel in distress?”

 Charles smiled. “Yes your Lordship.” We dismounted and handed the reigns of our horses to the elderly driver.

 We made short work of lifting and replacing the wheel. After a quick survey of the road, the guards found a missing bolt. With that in place, the carriage would be fine.  

 “Why have I not seen you in court?” I asked as I held the carriage still While Charles and the guards.

 She exhaled haughtily “I’m afraid I’m not very welcome at court, nor do I care to go to court.”

 I lifted my brow “And why is that my lady?” I tried to suppress a laugh. She was so direct, so plain-spoken, unlike most of the women at court. Court could probably do well to have some women with backbones like her. It would at least make court more interesting.

  “I have an unfortunate habit of telling the truth.” I laughed hnow. Seeing that I was genuinely amused, Charles relaxed and laughed too.

 “Well now, telling the truth is a virtue, even at court.” I smiled as Charles chuckled under his breath.

 “My Lord, I’ve seen many things in court, but virtue isn’t one of them.”

I leveled her with my gaze. “Are you saying The King lacks virtue?”

 I caught a brief glimpse of annoyance in her voice.  “I said nothing of the kind!”

 “Are you saying the courtiers are without virtue?” I asked.

She blanched when she realized that as a Lord, I could be a regular at the palace. “My apologies My Lord. No. I simply meant that matters of piety are not a priority to all who attend the court.”

 I glanced over at Charles who was laughing under his breath at her stubbornness.” This is a fun game and one I didn’t want to end just yet.

 “Well, gentle lady, would 2 non-virtuous gentlemen of The King’s Court offer their assistance to a lady in distress?” I asked as I gestured to her now repaired carriage.

 “I tell you truly, sirs, that many in His Magesty’s Court would not assist, but to serve their own purposes.”

 I walked a step closer to her in a show of power, but instead of looking away, she stared me straight in the eye defiantly. “And what, pray tell, do I have to gain from helping you today?”

 “My Lord, I didn’t mean any offence to you or your friend.” She nodded to our party. “You have indeed done me a great favor today.”

 Was she finally breaking? “And what have I asked in return?”

 She smiled now. She was breathtaking when she smiled.

 @mindofasagitarius   @lclb13 @serenityfiretrash @lustyromantic @reigns-5sos @bigpsychicbagelauthor @omg-im-such-a-masochist @marlananicole @wickedsunfire

[barbasbodaciousbeard]

Love you to the Moon and to Saturn

Summary: Caring is not an advantage. To Mycroft, this was a belief he found through the calculated logic that ruled his life. If was analytical and detached and certainly had nothing to do with Sherlock or the childhood neighbor. 

A/N: In a break from my regularly scheduled SVU writing, here’s a four part Folklore inspired Mycroft Holmes thing.

Please, picture me in the weeds Before I learned civility I used to scream ferociously Any time I wanted

“Mycroft, promise you’ll remember me here,” Ruth whispered, laying on the blanket beside where he sat with his legs before him. It was wholly undignified, but it was the clearing they spent their free time in the summer when Sherlock wasn’t there for them to watch over.

“Why here?” he asked, brow lifted as he watched her carefully weaving the bevy of flowers she’d picked. It had made their walk three times as long, but he was content to watch her as the sun shone on red curls and the yellow sundress flowed in the wind. Uncle Rudy wouldn’t approve of the way he was beginning to think of her. The neighbor girl in the summers who helped him watch over his precocious brother and never knew the sister that still haunted his nightmares. He was sixteen now, but the tension was not yet gone in the Holmes house. Ruth’s insistence on dragging him to the clearing always served as a reprieve.

“You don’t act so stuffy, so it’s where I’ll remember you. I want our memories to match when you go off to school in a couple years.” He might have taken offense if she weren’t right, something she must have known because she added, “It’s probably good one of us already acts politely. But I like seeing you when you don’t look so stressed.”

“I’m under no stress, Ruth.”

“You’re a good liar. But we’ve also spent four summers together now. You always play quite serious, but I’m learning to read you.”

There was no reason she needed to know what weighed so heavily on his shoulders. His parents had yet to realize the weight their pressure put on him. He’d been scolded for not watching Eurus more closely, not watching Sherlock and Victor as they played. Then, Uncle Rudy had decided two years before that fourteen was man enough to know the reality and partake in taking care of the family. 

Rudy would always claim he occupied a minor position in the British government, but whatever it was allowed him to put Eurus somewhere far, far away. In a few years, Mycroft would go to Oxford, study something that prepped him to join Rudy. When the time came, managing the secrets would be his job. He would minitor Eurus at Sherrinford, hide the secrets away from his parents, let them think their daughter dead and maintain the illusion she was. At least he would give her creature comforts, gifts on birthdays. 

Mycroft wouldn’t lose the humanity or kindness Rudy had. It took work to learn it, but it was carefully curated and hidden away, reserved for a select few, and Ruth was one of them. He didn’t want to tell Ruth all the darkness Rudy kept tucked away or the way he had to monitor Sherlock to ensure he didn’t remember Eurus or that redbeard wasn’t truly a dog.

“I am unknowable, Ruth,” he nearly hummed, allowing the corner of his mouth to lift. “But I promise to remember you dirtying a perfectly lovely dress in order to weave flowers into a wreath.”

“It’s a crown, Mycroft,” she said emphatically. “I bring blankets now so you won’t dirty your slacks.”

“What a kindness.”

“You used to be more like me.”

“What do you mean?”

“You act like a teacher. All serious and proper and wearing slacks and a sweater and a collared shirt to spend a day in the yard.”

“I’m just trying to act like an adult.”

“We’re not adults.” 

He wanted to tell her he wasn’t allowed to be a child anymore. That he wanted to go with her to get drunk at bonfires and snog and do all the things his peers did. But, between his intellect making most people simply unbearable, the jealousy he wouldn’t acknowledge when some lad talked to Ruth, and the fact that would mean risking something happening to his brother, he couldn’t. If Sherlock were hurt, his parents would blame him, as they did with Eurus, so Mycroft hovered over him. Luckily, he seemed to like the attention from his big brother, often snatching books he knew Mycroft had finished and devouring them to discuss them proudly in earshot of Mycroft.

“I suppose you’re correct. I still have no intention of going to one of those bonfires with you. Sherlock will be home soon. We ought to go back.”

“You’re not his parent.”

“I just enjoy his company.”

She squinted, placing her newly finished ring of flowers atop her head, and he smiled despite himself. It was probably good she made him take these breaks in the summers. Otherwise, he’d never take the time to breathe or feel the sun on his face or anything else. One day, he wouldn’t have the option. Caring wasn’t an advantage. That’s what Rudy kept telling him, but Mycroft couldn’t see how this could be anything but.

Sweet tea in the summer Cross your heart, won't tell no other… Passed down like folk songs The love lasts so long

“This isn’t tea, Ruth,” he said, distaste apparent as she set the pitcher before him. 

“It’s sweet tea, Mycroft. Just try it.”

“You were raised by Americans. This is a bastardization of tea. I won’t have it.”

“You take your tea with so much sugar, anyway. It’s hot out, and I wanted something that wouldn’t make me hotter. There’s mint in it. And sugar. Just try it. For me?”

Mycroft made a noise of dissatisfaction, taking the offered glass and sipping it. He didn’t want to admit it was bearable, but when he took another sip, he could see the look of pride on Ruth’s face. Expectantly, she crossed her arms, and he sighed as he realized she’d wait until he answered.

“It’s acceptable. Still a bastardization. Hot tea is perfectly lovely on a hot day.”

“I’ll take it. Especially given how easily you’re drinking it.”

“Impossible.”

“You love me,” she sang playfully, and he wanted to tell her he was becoming quite sure he did. She was who came to mind when he heard love described. Ruth was who he trusted, was comfortable around, and made him want to be less of a miserable pain. She was also beautiful and smart and interesting, not like everyone else he’d dubbed as goldfish as of late. It was infuriating. 

“To the moon and to saturn,” he said softly, mirroring the way she’d said the same thing affectionately to both him and his brother. His eyes were closed as his head rested against the back of the patio swing, and he felt the tickle of Ruth’s braids before he felt her press a kiss to the top of his head. His heart pounded, and Mycroft was suddenly more aware of her closeness as he opened her eyes. The sound of Sherlock calling out to his audience of toys as he played echoed to them, but for once they were the background noise to his mind and all he could focus on was Ruth’s soft laugh as she watched his brother from her place beside him.

“To the moon and to saturn,” she smiled. “You’re my best friend, Mycroft.”

He didn’t like the word friend in that moment, but saying as much would mean admitting he was smitten with her. There was no way he could keep that from mummy and father. He wasn’t one for affection, but he let her rest her head upon his shoulder, a dignified hand pressing to her cheek before returning to his lap. 

“And you are mine, Ruth.”

“You mean that?”

“I do.”

“Thank you.” 

Ruth stayed against his side, only sitting up when Sherlock ran up clutching some piece of a broken gardening trow he seemed quite proud to have found. Ruth took it gladly, promising she’d try to think of a way to give it a handle again. In the fall and spring, it was always harder for him to keep up with his younger brother; mummy and father both taught at the university and found their time researching and writing indispensable so they could enjoy the winter break and summer. They said the boys would be fine on their own, but what they meant was Mycroft would be watching. It was better with Ruth, who genuinely seemed to enjoy helping to make Sherlock feel included. 

With Eurus gone and Victor dead, the ten year old only had his brother and their neighbor. He also had the same distance Mycroft remembered so well, the sea between himself and everyone else because their minds simply worked differently. People could be so boring, especially if they were unwilling to deal with the Holmes’ peculiarities. Everyone was so delicate, still learning who they were and building self esteem, that Sherlock and Mycroft with intelligence to rival the teachers and eccentricities abound didn’t know how to interact, especially given how long their mother had kept them home schooled. Victor had always understood his brother, and now he was gone. Ruth was the first close friend Mycroft had found, the only one where he didn’t have to calculate what his next move should be.

“Mycroft,” Sherlock asked, pulling on his brother’s sleeve. He was still all dark curls and blue eyes. It was still admiration on his face instead of the annoyance that would take its place ten years later. “Do we have any of the big wooden dowels left? Ruth says we could use them to make a handle!”

“We do,” he said softly, straightening the boy’s collar. “You’re quite lucky she’s always so willing to assist in your restorations. Her father does restorations for museums. I’ll fetch the dowels. You help Ruth set up your work station.”

I’ve been meaning to tell you I think your house is haunted Your dad is always mad and that must be why I think you should come live with me  And we can be pirates, then you won't have to cry

“Why are you hiding?” 

Mycroft looked up from his book, back against the wall of the attic. It was the first Christmas since he’d left for Oxford, and he was pleased to learn both families would spend it as they did their summers. If anything had been confirmed for him, it was that he was irrevocably in love with her. He’d now kissed and slept with a couple of people and each time he wondered how it would be if it were Ruth. 

Rudy had made it apparent that until he was needed at a job once he graduated, his summers were his, and he was pleased to know he had three summers with her before Eurus was his responsibility. Sherlock had been acting out since he left, and he had a feeling soon enough the boy would be his responsibility from afar.

“I’m not hiding,” he argued as she settled beside him. “What, no hello?”

“Hello, Mycroft. I missed you terribly.”

“I missed you too, Ruth.” 

“You never call me. We don’t get to run into each other when you’re at school. So we’ve got to put in effort.”

“I’ve nothing terribly interesting to say.”

“Call and bore me then, okay?”

“You require quite a lot of attention.” His tone was as playful as she’d ever heard, though to anyone else she was certain it sounded monotone. But, the corners of his mouth weren’t turned down, even if he did seem more exhausted than she’d ever seen him.

“I just wanted to make sure you’re okay, Mycroft.”

“Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I could hear your dad.” Mycroft sighed, placing his bookmark and setting the novel aside. His hands came to rest on his lap, fingers laced, and he just couldn’t quite bring himself to look at her. “Was it about Sherlock?”

“He’s been acting out with regularity. Mummy and father think I should come back more. That he misses me. I do not know when they expect that I will be able to, but I’m going to make an effort to.”

“Mycroft, he’ll find something else to act out over. He’s only turning eleven. It’s a change he’ll have to get used to because one day, you’ll be prime minister or something and never have time for any of us.”

“Don’t wish that upon me.”

“Sometimes, I think something bad happened here. And that the energy gets to your dad. He isn’t like this in the city from what you tell me.”

“Are you implying ghosts make my father angry, Ruth?”

“Maybe,” she shrugged. “You should come stay with me. I’ll sneak you in through the window.”

“Your father would have me killed. He’d assume I had nefarious intent.”

“He left,” she muttered, picking at the loose thread of the rug. 

“Ruth-”

“I’m fine. He still visits me, and I visit him. It’s just so strange being here for Christmas without him. He met a woman at work…”

“How’s Catherine?”

“She’s taken it well. She stays out a lot. But she’s been home for the holiday since we came out here.”

“I am always here if you need to talk about it. You could have called me.”

“I know,” she said, squeezing his fingers. “Are you ready to run away from responsibility yet? I still think we could have a lovely roadside stand somewhere. A cottage.”

“You could always come to Oxford.”

“Maybe I will.”

“I’ll always have a place for you.”

“I’m just pleased I get to see you. It’s been too long. You’re my favorite person, you know?”

“And you’re mine.”

“No, Sherlock is,” she teased, nudging his side. “But that’s fair.”

“I love you.” The words tumbled out before he could stop them. He’d said it dozens of times, but always in response to her. There was something else behind it now as they hid away from their families. It felt comfortable. He felt at home now that she was here. Wasn’t that a sign? That he still felt unstable when surrounded by his parents and Sherlock, but a peace washed over him when Ruth’s head poked out from behind the attic door. 

“Mycroft-”

“It’s perfectly alright if you don’t.”

“I do.”

“What?”

“I said I do. I love you too, Mycroft Holmes.”

He didn’t know what to do now. Oxford was the first place someone had kissed him, a brunette boy at a party his roommate had held. There was also a woman, one much older than him, who he met at the library. Those had been simple enough because the weight of his feelings wasn’t attached. He’d worked so hard with Rudy to control them, to remember caring isn’t an advantage. It was acceptable to love his little brother; Rudy reminded him that would make everything easier. But loving Ruth? He’d always made their friendship an exception, but as he realized he had the opportunity to kiss her he took it. 

Long fingers cupped her jaw, and his heart soared as he realized she was looking to his lips. She leaned in before he could, hands going to his sides as she kissed him sweetly. Each kiss he’d had before had a purpose. It was hard and wanting and found the inexperienced Mycroft in a bed somewhere. Now, he could just hold his lips to hers like this forever, never progressing, and be happy. When they did separate, she buried her face into the crook of his neck, and his arms circled her waist as he savored the closeness. He could feel her heart pounding as his was. 

“I love you, Mycroft.”

“And I love you, Ruth.”

“Promise?”

“To the moon and to Saturn.”

[hellomynameisbisexual]

“Faggot.” “Cocksucker.” “Femboy.” “Abomination.” Gay. The list of names I’ve been called since coming out as bisexual in June 2020 doesn’t stop there — nor did it stop when I went public with my sexual identity either.

From a young age, I knew I was different from my peers.

Maybe it was the way I walked. Or the way I talked. Or the way I dressed. I just knew I stood out to them like a sore thumb — or perhaps a rainbow of color in a sea of dull gray.

My differences became evident to me when other children at the preschool I attended in suburban San Diego, California, would forsake my company in favor of each other, already forming cliques and inciting drama at such an innocent age.

When my family and I moved to dreary Erie, Pennsylvania, I knew my struggles would only get worse.

Many of the children in my kindergarten class had already known each other for several years before I entered the picture.

They quickly noticed differences in my mannerisms, speech patterns, thoughts and ideas. I wasn’t like the other boys, but I wasn’t like the girls either. I was an outlier, a foreigner and a stranger considered dangerous and unwelcome.

Though I made friends the following few years — including some who would become lifelong companions — most of those primary friendships mirrored the kernels of a neglected ear of corn: delicious when ripe but quick to harden, rot and flake off.

By my fourth grade year, I was teased and bullied nearly daily for being too feminine, too weird, too annoying to fit into my school’s social circles.

When I told my teachers about my struggles, their solution was to attempt to masculinize me by placing me in groups of athletic boys in my class, boys I had nothing in common with and who certainly had nothing in common with me.

Even my grandparents — then and now my caretakers — noticed my un-boyish behavior and enrolled me in the local little league baseball team — whether to also attempt to instill in me a sense of masculinity and male toughness or to help me make new friends I knew not.

I would grudgingly participate in the sport for six, nigh on seven grueling years, never making a single lasting friend and crying almost weekly from the torment it caused me.

Needless to say, I felt like a floundering fish without fins in a sea of angry, hungry sharks during those years.

It wasn’t until the final year of my elementary education that I was introduced to the concepts of puberty, adolescence and sex.

I was told that very soon, I would start noticing the girls in my class and would begin to want to form meaningful relationships with them. Eventually, I would become sexually attracted to them and want to have children with them.

But in those coming years, though many girls would pique my interest, it wasn’t them who ignited the fire in my soul and made me feel the burning passion of desire — it was men.

I quickly realized it was this that set me apart from my male peers and resulted in me being shunned by the girls. I was a boy — soon to be a man — in every physical way, but I wasn’t attracted to or passionate about girls like the other boys in my class were. I was obsessed with men.

But I couldn’t possibly be gay, could I?

Growing up in a household of religious relatives, I was always taught that sex before marriage was a wicked abomination and that being anything but straight was a sin comparable to none.

I distinctly remember watching a news broadcast with my family around the time I was transitioning to my middle school years. The ABC World News clip showcased LGBT marriages being performed out west and contained affirming remarks from then-President Barack Obama on the matter.

“The Bible says marriage is between a man and a woman,” I remember my aunt saying in utter disgust at the television, murmurs of agreement echoing her around the room.

I resolved then to hide my feelings and my pubescent curiosity from my family at all costs, lest I be scolded, shunned or worse: abandoned.

During middle school, I relentlessly dug deep within myself and attempted to alter what I thought was but a simple mental barrier to social normality. All thoughts of being with men were forcibly suppressed in my mind before they could even become tangible, and each of my increasingly urgent bodily needs went ignored and unsatiated.

I even resorted to religion, the only weapon I thought strong enough to aid me in the war raging inside myself.

Day and night, I attempted to “pray the gay away,” but to little avail. Much to my chagrin, I realized that even divine intervention could not “help” me: My homosexuality seemed to be an immortal, malignant tumor infecting each and every one of my thoughts.

Thus, the preliminary years of my second decade of life became miserable and unfulfilling — I was engaged in a fierce battle with an integral aspect of my identity and was inadvertently shattering the chains that bound a beast capable of obliterating every fiber of my cognitive being — anxiety.

By my high school years, men — mean, nasty and indifferent but awe-inspiring, mystifying and oh-so-gorgeous men — had begun to control my deepest, darkest desires and fantasies. My lust had grown large enough to thwart even my most furious attempts at diminishing it.

As I slowly came to terms with the realization that nothing in the universe could “fix” me, my mental situation severely worsened. I fell into a dangerous downward spiral of self-doubt and woefulness.

My relationship with my grandparents quickly began to deteriorate, as did my relationships with my friends. Every day brought with it a new reason to hate my existence — the constant verbal altercations, the continued teasing and even bullying at school, the countless lonely nights spent sobbing quietly into my pillow.

And, to make matters worse, the true nature of my sexuality seemed to express itself in each of my social mannerisms. It wasn’t long before despicable rumors about me spread through the student body of my high school like wildfire.

My teachers noticed my strife, and some took the time to speak with me about a few of the different mental illnesses they suspected I had. But not even they could halt the hordes of horrifying thoughts racing through my head or the string of ruthless comments that would assault me in the hallways.

Soon, however, the light at the end of the long, grueling tunnel that was public education began to shine: I was graduating from high school and about to start fresh. Nothing could have contained my excitement at the prospect of escaping the largest source of my daily torment.

As I digested the freedom going to college offered, idealistic daydreams began to flood my mind — I could live how I wanted with whomever I wanted, and no one could judge me or tell me differently.

How wrong I was.

My first year as an undergraduate student at Penn State Behrend was a living hell.

Though the petty and immature teasing of high school was no longer an issue, standing up for my newfound political identity was, as well as dealing with my growing anxiety.

I was constantly engaged in polite yet heated political debates with those in my dorm. I felt like they were blatantly attempting to oppress me with their own beliefs and had grown to hate me for mine.

The same situation occurred with my grandparents, and we grew increasingly distant over the course of that year.

It didn’t help that I was still “in the closet,” so to speak, and contemplating methods of publicly revealing my true sexual identity. I hadn’t yet officially told anyone I was bisexual, and it remained my most closely guarded secret.

Needless to say, my social circumstances and the added stress of my adjustment to college academics and lifestyle allowed my mental state to reach an unprecedented low. I needed help.

That same year, I saw my family physician and then a psychiatrist, who prescribed me antidepressants in an attempt to lessen my now untameable anxiety. I took them with gusto and also began attending therapy sessions to teach me how to manage my thoughts and emotions.

For a small while, I felt better — I was actually happy in my skin and even happy with my bisexuality.

But then, even my long-awaited mental comfort abandoned me, and I slipped into the deepest, darkest pit of my life.

I became suicidal but never acted on that petrifying potentiality.

I didn’t trust myself to be alone, so I constantly sought the company of others, which only made me feel like a nuisance and waste of time, energy and space.

About a month later — in October 2018 — I got into an accident.

I was barrelling down the highway, escaping a particularly heated verbal altercation with my grandfather. It was raining that day, and the roads were slippery.

Going around a curve, I lost control of my vehicle and flew into a small ravine, flipping not once, not twice but three times in midair before landing upright — dazed, but alive.

Escaping relatively physically unscathed from the incident, with only a broken right clavicle, I was not mentally the same for weeks afterward.

I decided at that time I would come out and reveal my true sexuality at the soonest possible opportunity — I blamed my silence on every terrible situation that had occurred in my life up to that point. If I didn’t come out, I quite literally thought I would die.

Telling even my closest friends was difficult, but I managed, and the relief I felt was paramount to that of the titan Atlas in Greek mythology: I felt like the weight of the entire world — sky and all — had been lifted from my shoulders.

Fast forward to the present: I’m alive, well, out and proud. I’m no longer ashamed of my innate traits or of my thoughts.

Being a bisexual man has taught me many lessons, but foremost among them is that the people who can’t accept me for who and what I am don’t deserve to be in my life.

My anxiety made it difficult to let go of toxic relationships over the years — I learned that the primary source of my mental strife is a fear of abandonment by those I care about — but doing so opened the door to newer, healthier relationships that build me up and boost my confidence instead of chipping away at it.

I’ve since improved tremendously, and not even the onset of the coronavirus pandemic was able to pause my progress. Every day is a learning experience, and I’ve grown so much from the helpless boy I was mere months ago that if you showed me a map of my mentality from 2018, 2019 or even 2020, I wouldn’t recognize myself at all.

Revealing my bisexuality to the world didn’t solve all my issues — there were and still are other factors that contribute to my anxiety and mental health — but coming out was perhaps the most profound, life-altering moment in my 21 years. Nothing compares to the freedom I now enjoy, nor will any other experience compare to the relief I felt following my announcement.

[corpse--diem]

Can I Be Your Memory? | Marley & Erin

TIMING: Current PARTIES: @detectivedreameater​ & @corpse–diem SUMMARY: Erin tries to lift Marley’s spirits with a horror movie marathon. It doesn’t work. Marley’s condition only continues to worsen. CONTENT WARNINGS: head injury tw, memory loss tw, car accident tw (mention only)

When Marley opened her eyes, for a moment, she couldn’t even remember what day it was. The jarring nature of the thought made her sit up a little too quickly for the pain that was still stabbing her sides. Wincing, she laid back down, rubbing her head. The clock told her it was still daytime. Morning, actually. Almost noon. God, how long had she slept? She couldn’t remember. It was becoming an increasing problem. Maybe Erin was on to something, maybe she really should get here head checked out. She hadn’t thought she’d hit it that hard, that bad, but the blackouts were getting more and more frequent, and she was feeling more and more lethargic. Stiffly, she sat up and managed enough to pull her sweatpants on-- god sweatpants, she hated sweatpants-- and shuffled out of the room and towards the kitchen. She heard someone moving around and had to remind herself that this was Erin’s apartment and there was supposed to be someone in the kitchen. Probably. She came around the corner and stopped in the doorway, rubbing her eyes again. “Got any coffee?” she grumbled.

Work had beckoned her out of bed early that morning. It was Saturday and technically, Erin didn’t need to squirrel away in her office for a few hours, but she’d wanted to clear as much of the weekend as she could manage to spend time with Marley. The other woman hadn’t hid how miserable she was and it felt just as miserable not being able to do anything to truly help her pain. But she could force her to take care of herself, to rest and to distract her from the mind-numbing boredom she was surely incurring. It’d help distract her from the ever-increasing stress pains that came with watching her symptoms slowly but very surely deteriorating. “Morning, sleepyhead,” she glanced back as Marley trudged in, her sleepy voice bringing a quick smile to lips. She nodded to the pot on the counter. “Do I ever not?” Sleep was never a guarantee under this roof, doing what she did. A constant cycle of coffee was basically essential. She watched her warily, pulling out a pan from the cabinet. “How are you feeling? Do you want me to pour some for you?”

Marley looked blearily around the room. Erin was always doing something, keeping her body moving, and it made Marley exhausted just watching her. “No, I got it,” she mumbled, shuffling over to the counter and picking up the pot and one of the mugs Erin kept out. It felt almost routine and she couldn’t help but smile fondly at the thought. Marley hadn’t had routine in her life for a long time, even when Anita was around. Her hand shook the longer she held the pot and she set it down, deflating as if it had been the heaviest weight. Her ribs ached with the breath. “I feel like someone’s squeezing my insides, actually,” she grumbled, lifting the cup to her mouth to take a long swig. The hot liquid warmed all the way down her throat into the pit of her stomach. A small relief, but one all the same. She rubbed her eyes again. “Are you working today?”

Erin felt guilty for the way she watched Marley out of the corner of her eye, not completely trusting her assurances about handling the coffee on her own. The slow speed and shaky hands weren’t a promising start. But she was smiling for some reason so she kept her distance, giving her space to do it without pressure, but close enough to step in to stop a potential mess. She winced. “Yeah, that sounds about right,” she replied, understanding all too well. Wasn’t all that long ago she’d felt the same lung crushing pain after Roy had thrown her around like a rag doll. Her brows narrowed and she stifled the flare in her chest, busying herself again with readying the ingredients she needed. “Not if I can help it,” she said, tossing her a quick smile. “I took care of some paperwork while you were sleeping, and I have someone on-call, so…” She gave pause, making a show of setting the butter and popcorn kernels on the counter next to her. “I’m all yours today.” Arms crossed, she rested a hip against the counter, grinning with earnest now. “How about that movie marathon?”

“Oh, did you finally hire a new receptionist? Or...whatever job that scrawny kid had?” Marley asked, holding the cup with both hands when she noticed a tremor in them. She felt more exhausted than she figured she should, considering all she did nowadays was fucking sleep. Hadn’t she just woken up? Her eyes went down to the objects Erin proudly set on the counter next to her, and Marley had to squint at them for a moment before she understood what they were. “Guess it can’t hurt,” she said, shrugging. Winced as her ribs gave a stab. “Okay, well-- it might hurt a little, but--” she rattled the bottle of pain pills she’d brought with her-- “that’s what these are for.” She felt as if she’d been on them forever, despite the bits of time when she’d refused to take them. She didn’t know what kind of human medications she could actually take, but this Oxycodine seemed to be working very well. “Can I watch?” she asked suddenly, looking over at Erin. “Watch you make the popcorn. Never seen it done before.”

Erin snorted a small laugh at that. “Rio,” she corrected her, though the smile didn’t last long when her mind drifted to his replacement. “I did,” she said, the words drawing out longer than they should have, biding her timing as she struggled over the best way to explain herself. “She’s good. Not that Rio was bad at his job or anything but life experience makes a difference in a position like that.” She paused, tapping against the counter, then moved to tug a stool closer to the counter for Marley to sit and watch. “Her name’s Chloe. Chloe Brown,” she said simply, turning her back to start. She wasn’t sure how she’d take that bit of news, if she’d even remember the woman’s name from the news article, but her nerves wouldn’t allow her to stand still while she waited. “Warning you now though, it’s not the most interesting process. A lot of it’s just waiting for the kernel’s to pop.” Tossing a smile over her shoulder, she shrugged and started to put the butter in the pot.

Marley moved gratefully toward the stool, sinking onto it and wheezing out a breath of pain. She put a hand to her ribs and felt the stiff ace wrap under her shirt, forcing her to sit up straight and keep her ribs in place. Couldn’t put a cast on broken ribs, after all. She looked across the counter to Erin as she began preparing the popcorn, nearly choking on her coffee as the name was said. Chloe Brown. The only survivor of Lydia’s ordeal. Her hand tightened on the cup and she set it down hastily, gripping the handle probably harder than necessary. “Chloe Brown? As in--” she didn’t want to say her name, she barely even wanted to think about her. What would Marley think, now, every time she saw that woman’s face? Every time she came to Erin’s? She tried to push those thoughts away and looked down. “How’d that happen?”

Oop. Yep. Marley remembered. Erin confirmed it was the same Chloe Brown with a nod, though she remained silent as she watched her try to figure it out on her own for a few moments. No doubt a few other unpleasant thoughts came to mind. It was part of the reason she’d been waiting to share the news. Her brows narrowed. “She’s a friend?” The answer came out like a question but it wasn’t. Chloe was a friend, at least on her way to one. A work in progress. “We met online, talking about bad movies, that kind of thing. She came over once even, to watch Sharknado.” Erin smiled at the awkward but pleasant memory. “I mentioned I was hiring and she put in an application. It’s not easy to find good help, especially with the reputation the place has now and--I didn’t know she was the Chloe Brown until the interview.” The kernels clattered into the saucepan along with the butter and some spices, breaking the momentary silence with the noise. “Things got even more awkward after that, to say the least. Explained why she made me touch an iron pendant the first time we met, though.”

Marley was quiet as Erin explained. She didn’t know how to feel about it, but she didn’t know how to feel about a lot of things. Some good her stupid behavioral sciences degree did, huh? She looked down into her coffee cup, trying to figure out what it meant. Was it guilt? For all the times Marley was at Lydia’s place, and didn’t know, didn’t care, to check around the house. To look any further than the ten steps it took to get to her staircase and the fifteen to her bedroom? Was she responsible for Chloe’s suffering, just as much as anyone else who knew her but didn’t know her? Kernels ricocheted off the pan and Marley snapped to attention, sagging in the chair. “I didn’t know you were friends with her,” was all she said after a long moment. The smell of butter and crisping kernels filled the air and Marley wondered, again, if there was any part of this life she deserved, when most of herself had been crushed in a warehouse and the rest of if left town for Mexico. “Iron? Oh, right, cause…” she trailed off, swallowing. Her head felt bloated. “I’m glad you found someone.”

“Believe it or not, you’re not my only friend,” Erin teased lightly, trying to edge out some of the tension that’d filled the room. Marley was quiet--that wasn’t anything entirely new. She was a woman of few words and Erin had learned to read between the lines. “Me too. She’s been having a hard time finding somewhere to work too, with her uh--history. It worked out for the both of us.” She managed a small smile, and when the popcorn was ready to go, she turned the burner on, covered it with a lid, and stepped back to let it work its magic. The coffee on the counter beckoned her name. “What are you thinking?” She asked, taking a slow sip, sidling up next to Marley’s stool. She couldn’t always read between the lines.

The words passed through Marley’s head without her really hearing them. Sometimes she couldn’t help it, it just happened. Her brain wouldn’t focus because it was fucked up and liked to steal her away from the present. She blinked and looked up and Erin was sitting at the table. When had she gotten there? She couldn’t recall. The lid was on the pot now and she blinked. “What?” she asked, turning to look at Erin. “I-- sorry. What did you say? I didn’t…” hear it? Comprehend it? She wasn’t sure. Her brows creased together and she drew in a breath, holding it for a moment. These episodes were getting worse and worse and she didn’t know if it was because of the accident or something else. She hadn’t fed in a while, either. She could feel the hunger in her bones. “Do uh-- do broken ribs usually make people this out of it?” How would she know? She never really paid attention. She never really understood.

Alarm shot through Erin and at the genuine uncertainty in Marley’s features. “No,” she answered, trying to hide the fear in her voice. Her eyes shot to the still healing cut on Marley’s forehead and she sat up a little straighter. “What just happened?” She asked, trying to understand what was going on behind those eyes. The blankness in them didn’t do anything to quell those fears or lessen the stress building in her shoulders. God damn it, she cursed to herself, ready to pull out her phone and call the doctor. They should have done this already. They shouldn’t have waited. “Where’d you go?”

Marley finally let go of her cup and pressed her palms into her eyes, as if she could just push away the confusion and pain. She blinked and looked over at Erin again. “I-- don’t know. It’s just--” she let out her breath, and ran her hands through her hair-- “I’m here and then I’m not and then I’m back, and I don’t remember any of the time in between. That’s-- that’s it.” It was happening again, like when her head had first been messed up. Losing chunks of time, not knowing how long she’d been out, forgetting what she had been doing. She shifted and looked over at Erin, eyes nothing but tired and worn out. She was so sick and tired of being sick and tired. “It feels like before, but...worse.”

Erin stopped, really stopped, and took a long hard look at Marley. She wasn’t alright--that much she knew already, but her injuries and the stress they brought were so clearly taking their toll. And now it was getting worse? Erin’s chest tightened and her mouth felt dry as she nodded, blinking, trying to sort out their next plan of action. That was her role here and she was more than happy to fill it. She didn’t trust anyone else to. Not even Anita, when they’d briefly discussed her taking some of the load from Erin’s shoulders. Turns out her instincts had been right on that one. “I’ll call your doctor,” she said quietly in response, knowing there was nothing else they truly could do. It was out of their hands at this point. She willed her voice to sound more sure as she continued. “We’ll see what she has to say and go from there. I’m sure hitting your noggin after what you already went through didn’t help anything.” Her eyes scanned over her again, soft and concerned, like she’d find something helpful, a clue, anything she’d missed before. “Is there anything else? How often is this happening?”

Marley could feel the concern in Erin’s gaze without even having to look at her. It wouldn’t have mattered much, anyway, considering her vision was blurry, and getting blurrier each day. She blinked and tried to focus. The smell of popcorn began to permeate the apartment. She barely heard Erin say she was going to call the doctor, too fixated on her own thoughts and the scent filling the kitchen. She really wished she could’ve kept it together for like a few more hours before her head messed up shit again. Wasn’t it enough that her ribs hurt? She’d just wanted to give Erin a break, she deserved a break. She’d been taking care of Marley constantly-- probably nonstop since Marley had shown up at her apartment, half-dead and one-hundred percent drunk. Erin’s voice broke through the stream of conscience and Marley blinked again, turning to look at her. “How--” often, her brain reminded her. How often is this happening. “Daily,” she admitted quietly, unable to hold Erin’s gaze. “More than once a day.”

Erin ignored the popping in the background as best as she could. She didn’t want it now anyway. Her stomach turned at the smell and her throat tightened, more frightened than she’d been for Marley since she had watched her collapse onto the warehouse floor with a freshly cracked skull. Just as helpless now as she was then. “And you didn’t--” she started, trying to conceal some of the emotion leaking through. Stopped. Tried again. “Why didn’t you say anything?” She asked, her voice only marginally calmer. Her head shook slowly and she reached forward, grabbing her hand in an attempt to ground both of them, though if Erin was honest, she needed it more for herself right then. “You have to tell me this stuff, Marley. I don’t care how tired or busy I am. I need to know. I need to know so we can keep you okay and al--” She stopped abruptly, her face flustering as she pulled herself together. Again. “I need to know, even if you’re scared too.”

Marley could hear the concern choking Erin’s voice and it made her own throat close up and her own eyes water just slightly. She turned away and pretended to rub her head as a cover for wiping her eyes. “Because I-- wasn’t sure they were real,” she mumbled, swallowing thickly as she looked back over at Erin. “I wasn’t sure if I just...imagined it. Or something.” It was a terrible excuse, she knew that, but when she couldn’t trust her own head, how could she trust what she was feeling was real? What she was seeing was real? She rubbed at her eyes again. The popcorn made a loud noise and she startled, jumping in her chair. Her gaze fell back to Erin. To her hand over Marley’s. It felt warm. She wanted to hold it back. She didn’t move. “What if one day...I’m afraid that one day I’m going to wake up and have nothing of myself left. I-- I think I’m losing myself.”

She couldn’t trust herself. Couldn’t trust her own mind to see things for what they were. “Tell me anyway,” Erin managed, her nearly whispered words finally breaking the heavy silence that fell between them. The pan popped in the background, growing more incessant as time drew on, and she knew she’d have to pull away and take care of it before it burned eventually, but it would take something short of another fire to drag her attention away. “You won’t,” Erin assured her quickly, almost too quickly, but even for the way her voice strained, there was nothing but a calm resilience in her words. The how’s of it didn’t matter. She’d figure it out. She always did. This wouldn’t be any different.  “You won’t. I won’t let that happen,” she promised, familiar guilt trickling in, reminding her that she’d done this. That it was Erin’s fault that Marley was like this, that she was suffering. Her hand squeezed tighter around her fingers and a tight smile replaced a deep frown. “You’re Marley Stryder. You’re the most badass, intelligent, bravest detective I’ve ever met.” She raised her other hand, pointing a finger before Marley could interrupt, realizing she was sniffling herself now. “And no, you’re not the only detective I’ve ever met. Last year made sure of that,” she chided, her smile softening. “But if you need it, I’ll remind you of all of that too.”

Erin was being a lot more confident about all this than Marley, but she was just so tired. Maybe, for now, she’d just let herself believe Erin’s words. She didn’t have the energy-- or the heart-- to fight her on this. To tell Erin that she felt as if she were losing more and more of herself every day. As if something were draining her away. Taking the pieces of herself that she understood and eating them. She rubbed her eyes and found her hand came away wet. Oh, when had she started crying? No, she wasn’t crying. There were just tears clouded in her eyes. She blinked them away. “Sure,” she said finally, “I’ll tell you. Everything.” If I remember. She didn’t add that part. The popcorn was yelling every few seconds now, but Erin wasn’t moving. Marley glanced over at the pot and saw the lid dancing with each kernel explosion. “Uh, should you-- get that?” she asked, turning to look back at Erin. “If you burn my first ever homemade popcorn, I don’t know if I can forgive you.”

Erin let out a breath--it wasn’t exactly full of relief but she supposed it was the closest thing to it in that moment. Marley’s promise helped though, even if watching her eyes grow wet like that always made her chest sting. “Right,” she sighed, a faint chuckle on that same breath. The popcorn. She pulled her hands away, back into herself, and jumped up to grab the popcorn off the burner. After inspecting the bounty in the bowl, she was glad to see that only a small portion of it had reached the burning stage. Generally edible. Her stomach still turned and the smile she greeted her with, bowl in tow, felt hollow. “Did you, uh, still want to--” She gestured towards the living room. “I can meet you in there after I call the doctor?”

Marley looked behind her when Erin gestured and remembered they were supposed to have a horror movie marathon today. She had all the movies set out on the table in a little display. Something tumbled into Marley’s chest, a familiar feeling that she thought, perhaps, she’d just imagined. But if she was feeling it again, then maybe it was real. “Yeah, yes,” she said, turning to look back at Erin. “We gotta do something with our Sunday, right?” She wasn’t exactly hopeful that things would pan out well, especially with what the doctor would say, but she wasn’t going to let that ruin the day if she could help it. “Sure, yeah,” she nodded, standing back up and grabbing her coffee cup. It was helping a little, the coffee. She didn’t feel completely exhausted, even if it still hung on her bones like a curse. “I’ll meet you in there.”

For all the bravado she’d thrown Marley’s way, Erin deflated the moment Marley hobbled into the next room. The energy she’d started the day off with, the flicker of excitement of the afternoon she’d planned was snuffed out in one heaving blow. She was usually better at this, about hiding her stress and worry from Marley. Something about this didn’t feel right, though, and it was a feeling she couldn’t shake. Marley didn’t look or sound good, and the way her worry made her stomach roll was hard to ignore. She was thankful she’d already seen most of those movies a dozen times. Her mind wasn’t here at all. “I’ll bring out the popcorn--and don’t start without me!” She called after her, trying to insert some enthusiasm into her voice.

This was fine. This was nothing a cat scan or an MRI or whatever they needed from her couldn’t find. It was nothing they couldn’t fix. This was fixable. Marley would be fine and continue positively progressing like she had before the car accident. She pulled out her phone, dialing the number to her doctor, repeating it over and over until the words, feeling and sounding like a broken record, carried her through this phone call.

[revalise]

Afterdate | UshiOi

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x Oikawa Tooru

Genre: Fluff, first date

Rating: SFW

Words: 6900+

A/N: This was for UshiOi Week (@ushioiweek2020​) but I wasn't able to make the deadline. I wrote Ushijima and Tendou scenes on a writer's block, phew. Thank you to Risa for beta reading this! I owe it all to you!I have quite a number of Haikyuu one-shot ideas, including thrillers and angst, I still need to write. But uni is taking a lot of my time and I haven't fully surpassed my writer's block yet (hence, why I've been posting less and less). If you enjoyed it, don't hesitate to comment. See you on the next! Nevertheless, I hope you love the story as much as I loved writing it!

Masterlist 

Ushijima stared at the slightly breathless wonder in front of him as he skidded to a halt. His eyes twinkled, just a bit—in a way they usually did when he was amused but tried hard not to be. Oikawa looked spectacular. Utterly and completely spectacular. A little stiff on the edges, but spectacular

It was a terrible date. Until it wasn’t.

The usually loud metropolis was quiet as a wraith as Tendou and Ushijima waited for the bus home. The kiss of smooth, cold breeze enveloped them both, making Tendou shiver.

Tendou rubbed his hands on his arms as the condensation of his breath blew against the low temperature before whipping his head to the side, only to see Ushijima dart his gaze to the road, patiently waiting. He didn’t care at all about the freezing temperature, standing still as the bus finally arrived, making Tendou frown at their differences.

He would always find himself beside Ushijima as it seemed they always came in a pair. And he knew how different they were. Tendou was the lively one, while Ushijima remained as composed as ever. For a moment, he thought he’d never outdo the captain of the team, but Tendou had a girlfriend waiting for him, waiting for a message regarding his whereabouts.

That alone was enough to make him think he was ahead of the stoic captain. And as a serial dater, Tendou knows how girls turn into something else when their boyfriends don't text back in two minutes.

But when he took out his phone, it was dead.

So the horror that produced sweat on his forehead cascaded down from his neck, even in the temperature, was accompanied by a hammering chest. He knew he needed to shoot his girlfriend a message.

He was left with no choice but to ask Ushijima to borrow his phone. As he fumbled through his friend’s phone after he had no choice, something piqued his interest.

Tendou paid a short glance beside him and his mouth formed a sly smile. The shock mixed with amusement on his face was inexplicable when he saw the Tinder app on his best friend's phone. He covered his mouth to stifle a snort, careful not to wake passengers in their slumber in the back row, late at night from volleyball practice.

Ushijima directed his attention at Tendou, who was looking at him maliciously. The moment his eyes landed on the phone, he understood why.

He tried to hide his surprise, but failed miserably as he quickly tried to retrieve his phone back from Tendou.

Thanks to all the blocking techniques Tendou learned from the team, he held the phone as high as he could out of Ushijima's reach. There was no way Ushijima could retrieve his phone without pushing Tendou over and making a scene since he sat on the window side.

"Hm," Tendou teased. "Since when did you have this?"

"I don't know why it's in there. Give it back," Ushijima argued with a straight face, but the falter in his voice was enough to prove that he was lying. And he wasn't a good liar.

Tendou wiggled his brows, tilting his head. From Tendou's above peripheral, the app successfully loads, and he immediately turns his attention to it, raising it further from Ushijima's grasp.

He pressed on Ushijima's profile. Gods above, did it make him cringe, not to mention the photo Ushijima used for his profile taken about four years ago.

Ushijima, 20

Miyagi Region

"Ugh," Tendou released a sigh. "Have you ever dated anyone from here?"

Ushijima sighed, sitting straight as he set his head down, "No, I don't understand it. I only swiped, and then nothing."

So nobody swiped for him, Tendou thought, feeling both sorry and amused for his friend at the same time. He should change his picture on the app. He looks like an annoying know-it-all, 15 year old. Nobody would go for him.

"Well, that's why you have me," Tendou grinned and head-locked Ushijima. "I'm going to help you get a date!"

The volleyball captain slowly looked up at his friend, "How?"

Tendou only smiled, "Leave it to me."

All Ushijima could ever do was sigh and look over the window as the bus moved further away. He kept his eyes on the bright and warm lights of establishments outside that elongated from the bus’s movement.

He knew that fighting Tendou was futile. In all these years, he had known how the redhead always did whatever he wanted, and how he was good at getting all that. Besides, Ushijima felt too tired to argue anyway.

The continuous clicks of the camera brought his conscience back from almost spacing out. Immediately, he turned his head over to the source beside him to see a smiling Tendou holding his phone as if he’d just come up with something interesting of some sort.

“Did you know it's rude to take photos of somebody without their knowledge?”

The redhead only rolled his eyes with a grin, turning the phone over to Ushijima to show the new profile he’d arranged. "And did you know I only did that as a favor?"

His new bio now read:

Ushijima, 20

Miyagi Region

I must be in a museum because you are a work of art

The four year old photo he once had as his profile picture was now replaced with the one Tendou took.

It was Ushijima's side profile looking outside over the window. The lights of the establishments they passed through created a nostalgic aesthetic along with the slight blurriness of the photo, but never missing his straight, high nose and the sharpness of his jaw. Oh, and that aura of both seriousness and mysteriousness that Tendou knew would catch the attention of anyone who’d look at it.

Ushijima stared at the phone closely, reading the new bio Tendou wrote for him, "That doesn't feel like me at all."

Tendou ignored his friend's remark, giving the phone back to him. "Now try swiping again."

Ushijima took his phone back, observing what buttons to press as he had forgotten how to use the app between the long months since he used it. Finally, the profiles load and he's greeted with a certain boy with light brown hair looking rather cheerful in his picture.

Oikawa, 20

Miyagi Region

If nothing lasts forever, can you be my nothing? ;)

Ushijima scrunched his nose, making Tendou roll his eyes as he grabbed the phone back from him.

“You don’t just stare at it, okay?” He swipes right and a match appears, “See? You swipe and then that will appear if they like you too.”

“Why would they like me if they don’t even know me yet?” the captain asked, tilting his head to the side.

Tendou grimaced, looking a little funny at the innocent question asked of him. “They like your face, okay?” he replied. “Okay?”

*

Oikawa couldn’t remember how long he’d been talking to the brunette he met on Tinder. Yes, Ushijima was a dry texter, but for some reason, for some reason, he couldn’t stop himself from talking to him. Not even when every topic shifted to thinking if they’d ever had milk from the same cow. Because Ushijima took him to a place where he only knew two things: that he couldn’t stop smiling and couldn’t stop looking forward to all his replies.

The smell of sweat and the sounds of bouncing balls and shoes scraping against the gym floor sang around Oikawa as he made himself comfortably seated all alone on the bench, taking advantage of the fifteen-minute break the coach lent the team.

He laced his phone around his nimble fingers while the other danced around the clean, white towel he used to wipe his forehead before setting it down beside him, placing it along various colored tumblers that belonged to his teammates.

Iwaizumi watched Oikawa from a distance, gulping down on his tumbler, rivulets of water running down from his lips to his Adam's apple, all the way down to his chest. He narrowed his eyes at the flamboyant big shot as he lowered his drink.

He didn’t know why exactly, but there was something different about Oikawa today.

One could say that there was something quite off about the confident captain of the team. Usually, he’d be socializing with the team, or annoying Iwaizumi during breaks, but today he chose to confine himself in the corner, craving what little quiet the noisy gym could offer. Of course, underneath the winks, smiles, exaggerated swagger, and childish antics lies a much more serious persona for when a situation demands it, channeling all that bravado in his pursuit.

But what was so important that could possibly bring Oikawa’s tenacity and attention completely locked on his phone, which he hasn’t put down since the first minute? What could possibly have Oikawa on edge that he couldn’t keep his right heel from lifting and dropping over and over, restlessly?

Oikawa couldn’t stress how long he’d been waiting for Ushijima to ask him out. He wished to have Ushijima beside him, wished he could inhale his scent—and how he probably smelled of dark wood with a hint of vanilla, wished Ushijima’s fingers threaded his hair, and how he wished they were something more.

Truthfully, he couldn’t explain why he’s so intoxicated with the man. He couldn’t determine or distinguish the weight of various reasons why, as if translating them into words would be translating symbols into letters.

Perhaps, the first time Oikawa let himself be swayed by the awkward and dry texter was after he had only slipped into his blanket. Ready to go into a deep slumber after reviewing tapes of his enemy team a day before the match to chalk out strategies, when his phone lit up, the light coming from the screen illuminating a halo around the corner.

From: Ushijima (sent at 9:43pm)

No. You’re the only one I talk to.

His breathing hitched, and he rose as quickly as he laid on the bed. In the small light, his bronze eyes glittered. A corner of his mouth twitched upwards and he wondered, Only me?

Oikawa had teased Ushijima about staying up late to reply to others. Vague, but just the right words to get the exact answer he wanted from the male: if he’d been talking to anyone else other than him. But he found himself kept up by the lingering messages from Ushijima.

A few weeks after that conversation, and at the mention that Ushijima also played volleyball, here he sat anxiously alone on the gym bench, trying the same scheme yet again.

Another word, another hint that he was interested in meeting Ushijima.

To: Ushijima (sent at 4:30pm)

Yeah, volleyball is good! But I miss hanging out sometimes >_<

Oikawa bit his bottom lip, anxiously staring at his phone that had just shifted to a black screen as he waited for a reply. He sighed, dropping his eyelids as he slumped his shoulders back from all the tension he didn’t know had been building up.

His phone pinged, almost sending his body into a full gallop, immediately raising his gaze to the screen. His heart jumped at the sight of the text preview, Do you want to…

This is the moment. He’s finally going to ask me out. Oikawa smiled to himself, regaining his composure as he sat upright. He inhaled slowly, swiping his fingers to unlock the message. Nevermind the smell of sweat. This is the moment.

From: Ushijima (sent at 4:32pm)

Do you want to play volleyball?

Oh. The corners of his mouth dropped just as soon as they pulled upward at the reply. His shoulders sagged, setting his head down in disappointment. Oikawa couldn’t quite make it up, but sometimes, Ushijima seemed to be out of place.

Sometimes, he’d read signals as fast as he misinterpreted others.

This is hopeless, Oikawa laughed to himself. The array of possibilities he set for himself and Ushijima smeared like oil in the air, drowning out his suave as he tried to shut them all down. Then he tipped his head back, breathing in deep. Breathing in the disappointment, taking it into his head that Ushijima was most likely not at all interested in that way. Anxiety and embarrassment mingled into his chest.

But his phone pinged another time, and it sent his body into another jolt.

From: Ushijima (sent at 4:33pm)

I mean, do you want to go on a date?

And for a moment, he couldn’t breathe under the crushing weight that pushed in on him.

*

“Are you going on a date or to a Sunday morning service?” Tendou cackled as he watched Ushijima put on his necktie over his deep violet long sleeves he paired with black slacks, sitting comfortably on the bed.

Ushijima reciprocated Tendou's gaze through the full body mirror, his eyes squinted, fingers securing the knot of his tie, “What's wrong? Isn't this presentable?”

“Formal. Too formal!” he said as he raised his hands up to stress his remark, barely unable to stop the wide, malicious smile.

“Then tell me,” Ushijima sighed in defeat, realizing that his friend might be right. “What should I wear?”

He was so hopeless that Tendou wondered, What would he do without me? What would have become of him if it weren’t for me guiding him in the big world out there?

Tendou could go on and on about teasing Ushijima with the kind of clothing he chose to wear. Who goes to a date wearing a church outfit? But he saw how Ushijima needed genuine help and pushed his remarks to the side, lending his friend a helping hand on his first Tinder date.

Actually, his first date in general.

“You sound like that time when you finally asked your match out on a date,” Tendou chuckled. “Oh, it was thanks to me.”

Ushijima turned to face Tendou, “I thought it was obvious.”

“Obvious?” Tendou’s hand reached for his stomach as he laughed at his best friend’s words. “How is asking someone to play volleyball flirting? How is that considered flirting?”

Thanks to Tendou, Ushijima was able to make a correction. He was fast to take the latter’s phone in his hand and send another reply. The shock that reverberated into Tendou’s body only dispersed once they received an enthusiastic reply. A feeling that Ushijima would never have felt because of his inexperience.

“But I don’t just ask anyone to play volleyball,” Ushijima replied, tone low and neutral, completely clueless. If he was embarrassed, it didn’t show. Rather, his face remained distant as usual.

The red-haired cleared his throat. It was one of those rare moments when he thought he should be honest with Ushijima before he ventured into a world he hadn't stepped into: dating.

“You’re hopeless. But there’s one thing I can tell you,” Tendou clicked his tongue, eyes shifting left and right trying to search for the perfect words.

He weighed in the list of possibilities that could happen to Ushijima and his date. Of course, there was already a high probability that both of them would be as awkward as ever. But Tendou took notice of the amount of emojis Ushijima’s date uses, so he couldn’t be that boring.

Sometimes, there are just people who could make everything boring. Unfortunately, Ushijima was part of that.

Tendou chuckled inwardly at his thoughts.

Ushijima was intimidating, and he doesn’t speak much. But when he does, he can come off as blunt. He was the kind of man who spoke no lies. He didn’t hesitate to speak what’s on his mind. He didn’t have any concerns. Only that he disliked things he didn’t understand.

He had the oozing air of confidence and reliability about him. He was a fantastic player on the court, but he was just a regular person outside of that. And sometimes, Tendou wondered if Ushijima had any fun at all.

His scrutinizing gaze brought Ushijima’s eyes to meet his through the mirror as the lad unbuttoned his shirt to change. “Have fun.”

*

Oikawa’s blood pumped through him in a strange rhythm. With every step he took, his feet felt heavy, lightweight, soft, and hard all at once, dragging them to move. He was tizzy as he approached the cinema—where he and Ushijima agreed to meet, biting down on his bottom lip.

The man walking in front of him paid him a short glower as if he’d been suspecting Oikawa for his stalking gait. Oikawa reciprocated the man’s hostility with an apologetic smile, halting his steps and embracing the frigid weather around him.

He took in a few deep breaths as he closed his eyes. Then he opened them, and the big ‘CINEMA’ sign glowed red in the light of the dark and the busy streets and youth passing by.

The first snow still hasn’t touched the ground, but it was felt in the frigid cold. He posted himself beside the entrance. He could feel the warm temperature coming from inside the hall whenever the doors opened. There was that burning need to invite himself in, but he stood outside, patiently waiting in the cold.

All around him, there were laughs and smiles from people around his age. Mostly couples, but he spotted friends who came in groups. Some were buying tickets from the booth manned by a straight-faced fellow, who impassively bid goodbye by saying, “Enjoy your movie.”

Some, he guessed, were waiting for someone. The restless tapping of their foot against the ground, the constant checking of time, and the biting of their lips. All of which Oikawa recognized. Because he was doing the same thing.

He raised his left hand, pushing aside his long, blue sweater sleeves to reveal his leather watch, “6:47…” he whispered.

There were still thirteen minutes left to see Ushijima for the first time. Thirteen minutes to hold on to his dear sanity.

He tapped his foot restlessly against the pavement once more, releasing another breath that condensed in the air, making him push his khaki scarf upwards to cover his mouth.

As soon as he raised his gaze towards what’s in front of him, he saw the man he’d been yearning to see. Behind the screen. Behind all those words. Behind all the smiles. And on that cold night, he saw him for the first time.

Oikawa’s eyes widened as he watched Ushijima from only eight feet away.

Ushijima’s body was turned to the side, giving Oikawa only the picture of his long coat, cropped light-colored trousers, and loafers. His side profile boasted that high nose and that brown hair—and Oikawa wondered if it was as smooth as it looked.

It’s literally unfair how attractive he is, Oikawa groaned in his thoughts. He knew how strange it was to look at Ushijima. But he found difficulty in not staring at him. He couldn’t find the courage to tear his gaze away from him. Not when Ushijima had that mesmerizing aura about him.

He was all too aware of how cliche he sounded, and he smiled like a fool when he realized that, maybe, he liked it. And he was still smiling like a fool when Ushijma whipped his head in his direction, locking their gazes.

Ushijima narrowed his eyes, making Oikawa’s smile drop as soon as he realized. But Ushijima was already walking toward him, and Oikawa couldn’t breathe.

“Good evening,” Ushijima greeted as soon as he was in front of Oikawa. If he was nervous, if he was shy, it didn’t show.

Oikawa noted the aura Ushijima emitted. He was, perhaps, more than what he had expected. A little too unreal, maybe. He swallowed, but his throat was too dry. “Hello…”

Ushijima’s lips twitched a little upwards. Even as he smiled, there was still something serious left in the air. “Have you been waiting long?” he checked his watch then returned to the speechless Oikawa.

He’s so pretty. I think I’m gonna faint, Oikawa thought before he realized he was asked a question. He shook his head to disperse himself of unwanted thoughts, creasing his brows as he leaned a little forward. Ushijima’s scented soap caressed his nose, a touch of wood… and is that baby powder? “I’m sorry. What was that?”

“Have you been waiting long?” Ushijima repeated.

“Oh. No,” Oikawa retreated. “No, I haven’t. I just got here,” he chuckled, trying to conceal the awkwardness in his tone. Feeling a little anxious, he asked, “And you?”

“I also just got here,” Ushijima answered dryly. Then his eyes went past Oikawa, and both felt the warm temperature from inside the hall, the noises sounding louder as the door swung open before it shut on its own and the noises died down with it.

Ushijima brought his gaze back to Oikawa, “Would you like to go inside? I’ve got the tickets.”

“Sure…” Oikawa smiled awkwardly.

Ushijima pushed the door open for Oikawa, to which he thanked him for. As soon as Ushijima couldn’t see his face, he closed his eyes in frustration. Say something!

Oikawa found himself speechless around Ushijima. It seemed like all of his confidence had died at the very sight of him. There was something intimidating about Ushijima that he couldn’t quite explain.

Yes, he’d been waiting for this moment for so long. And he hated himself for feeling as if he wasn’t even trying hard to connect with him.

The thundering drum in his heart pulsed through his ears, drowning out the sound of talks and the smell of popcorn invading his nose. He was shifting his weight from one foot to another as they waited in line for the cinema room, pocketing his trembling hands as he started at his feet.

He squeezed the bridge of his nose with two fingers, then lifted his head as he smiled at the staff that manned the entrance to the cinema room before following Ushijima ahead. His throat was tight in nervousness—a feeling he wasn’t very much familiar with—even as they sat in their seats.

Oikawa shifted his gaze over to Ushijima, and found he kept his eyes on the big screen, the flickering light from the changing scenes illuminated the planes of his face. He could watch Ushijima the entire time. Nevermind that Romeo and Juliet movie using the original dialogue. He couldn’t even understand it.

Then his eyes shifted towards his hand that rested on the recliner, making him frown. Since the movie started, he already placed his hand where Ushijima could hold it. But the movie was probably half over already, and nothing.

A child’s cry drowned the actors’ voices and shook the whole cinema, turning everyone’s attention to the source in the row behind them. Only Ushijima did not bother to pay a glance towards the disturbance.

Oikawa thought, Why make a child watch Romeo and Juliet?

He stifled a laugh and his hand flew to cover the corners of his mouth from twitching upwards as cheese popcorn fell from right above Ushijima’s head.

That was all it took to have Ushijima turn his attention to the annoying child. The audience expressed annoyance through angry muffles, but Ushijima remained calm and collected, politely accepting apologies from the man, whom Oikawa guessed as the father, as he tried to soothe the crying child.

Ushijima caught Oikawa’s attention, but it was too late for him to hide his smile. Oikawa laughed awkwardly, then hoisted his drink he hadn’t touched from the recliner to hand over to Ushijima.

“Drink water,” he said even as he himself was dehydrated.

*

Musicians took up spots inside the restaurant that Ushijima booked for the date. The room was filled with a blend of soft conversations, the clang of plates, and violins. Such a beautiful sound, if only that one musician knew how to carry a tune.

Oikawa and Ushijima kept straight faces, looking at each other as if they could tell what the other was thinking.

It was grand, but terrible. The dishes were too small. Certainly not enough to satiate their hunger. And that music? Gods above.

He registered the change in Ushijima’s face as he watched him intently across the table that separated them both. His ears were turning a little red, his forearms braced on the table. While Oikawa, on the other hand, leaned on the back of his chair, sitting like a king.

“How do you do it?” Ushijima asked quietly, his eyes almost pleading.

“Do what?” Oikawa grinned, raising his head high, teasing.

Ushijima gave him a slow smile and a flicker of light moved across his eyes, “How do you ignore that irritating sound?”

“My teammates are louder, and much more annoying than that,” Oikawa laughed, stealing another glance at the stressed-out musicians who wasted no time in poking at the one who couldn’t play the right strings. He would’ve felt sorry for him, really, had it not sparked an interesting conversation between him and Ushijima.

Ushijima traced the rim of his glass, “Louder and annoying?” his brows narrowed slightly.

“So,” Oikawa tilted his head, keeping a smile on his face as he recalled moments he spent with the team. “There was this one time when we went to a training camp. And I couldn’t sleep on the bus because they were all so obnoxiously loud and kept singing.”

Oikawa was the leader of that fiasco, but he would never admit to it.

“I had to snap their foreheads one by one to make them stop,” he shrugged. “It was fun though.”

“You have a very different definition of fun,” Ushijima chuckled, so soft and so mellow. The sound was better than the horrible quartet playing in the background, and Oikawa wanted to hear it again.

“Well,” Ushijima started, “do you want to get out of here?”

Somehow, it didn’t seem like goodbye.

*

“Wait!” Oikawa laughed when the tail of the scarf around his neck got caught in between the restaurant door they walked through.

Ushijima took a step closer, opening the door for Oikawa to pull out his scarf. A slash of a grin spread across his face, “What are you doing?”

Oikawa could only laugh as Ushijima stared at him with the same intensity. They stood in front of each other. No words, just stillness. But they were sure something changed. Even when they’ve only had a short time to get to know each other.

From the short distance that separated them, Oikawa watched as Ushijima’s brown eyes turned molten from the warm lights all around them. He couldn’t brush off the rush of having Ushijima look only at him, trying not to get lost in those strange, enticing eyes.

Oikawa winced as a gust of icy wind blew the tail of his scarf and froze his ears. He took that sign as an opportunity to pull it tightly around him.

“Walk with me?” he asked gently.

“I would love to,” Ushijima nodded. “But I’m afraid you would have to lead me instead. I’m not quite familiar with the road down there.”

Oikawa smiled even as he rolled his eyes, “Don’t tell me you’re the kind who gets picked up?”

Ushijima tucked his hand behind his back as they strode forward through the cobbled streets. He fumbled for words, but he did not drop his grin as the golden lights twinkled across the city, “Not really.”

“And I’m supposed to believe that?”

“Do you have a reason not to?”

“Okay, you’re good,” Oikawa complimented when he couldn’t counter his quick remark.

“Thank you,” Ushijima chuckled, deep and slow.

Oikawa frowned, “You actually look more handsome with honesty on your face.”

“I do?” Ushijima grinned, boasting those white teeth, brows knotting.

“Yeah, yeah,” Oikawa waved him off. “You’re cute. Stop smiling at me like that,” he added, averting his gaze from Ushijima. “Your lack of self-awareness is deeply troubling.”

Ushijima pocketed his hands, “And you? Are you honest?”

“Yeah, I mean,” Oikawa shrugged and smiled roguishly, keeping his gaze on the lights ahead. From a distance, he could see the head of the illuminated fountain by the park they were nearing. “Maybe I’ll just be straightforward about taking advantage of you.”

Ushijima laughed but said nothing. No one spoke as they realized that the space between them felt strangely intimate.

“What about the violin in the restaurant earlier, huh?” Oikawa followed with a tease.

“What on earth,” Ushijima drawled, sounding exasperated, “is all I have to say to that.”

With a turn around the hedge, the gush of water from the fountain park enticed them both. A strong gust of wind made them feel that the air had turned colder with the time, ripping through them as they observed the golden lit decorations surrounding the park.

“Do you want to..?” Ushijima didn’t finish the words, extending his arm and pointing his index towards the brightly lit fountain.

Their date should have ended the moment they stepped out of the restaurant. But the beautiful fountain in the center illuminating their faces signaled that it had only just begun.

Before Oikawa could sit on an empty bench—only a few feet away from the fountain, Ushijima dusted it with his hand, making his date smile appreciatively at the effort. In the touch of freezing cold, it became their spot to just sit and watch the fountain as a silent acknowledgement that neither were ready to part ways just yet.

“So,” Oikawa said as he crossed his legs, turning to Ushijima as the latter sat down. “Tell me more about you.”

“About me?” Ushijima’s brows creased, setting his eyes on his hands that rested in his lap. Oikawa realized how there was no progress in terms of skinship between them, but he wasn’t complaining. “There’s nothing much about me, really.”

“Impossible,” Oikawa shook his head. “There’s never nothing about anything or anyone.”

Oikawa’s eyes glittered as he stared at Ushijima’s hand, and his heartbeat quickened when his gaze rose to his face.

“How about us?” Ushijima asked.

A flush of pink bloomed on his cheeks as his heart hammered against his ribcage. He hadn’t been expecting such an honest question, such a question that flushed all the bravado he tried so hard to muster.

“Is there a reason you’re blushing like that?” Ushijima tilted his head.

Oikawa kept his gaze averted, biting his full bottom lip. Because of you!

“Oikawa?” Ushijima called.

He tried not to let it show what it did to him to have Ushijima remember his name. Or to hear him say it. To have him let out the words from his lips.

“Are you okay?” Ushijima asked, but made no move to touch him.

Good. Because Oikawa wasn’t entirely certain he could handle his heat hovering against him. He took a breath, and that same impish grin swiped back. “You should know by now,” he teased.

The silence that followed after didn’t lay as heavy as it used to be. Instead, Oikawa straightened himself, resting a hand on the bench in the short distance separating both, gazing at the fountain that kept them company.

“I like mushroom risotto,” he said out of the blue.

“Mushroom risotto?”

“Mushroom risotto,” he repeated, still keeping his eyes averted.

There was a short pause before Ushijima spoke, “Did you know that mushrooms are made up of 90% water?”

Do you want to go try mushroom risotto next time? Do you want me to bring that for you one day? Do you want me to cook that for you? Such questions were what he thought would’ve followed next. Questions that would make them meet each other again. Never a random fact he didn’t expect.

Oikawa turned his head towards his date. “What?” He choked on a laugh as he asked it.

“Yeah,” Ushijima gruffed, completely unaware of what left Oikawa in disbelief. “They’re also a fungus. Did you know?”

“No,” Oikawa shook his head. “I didn’t.”

“We should forage for mushrooms next time.”

Next time, the words rang in Oikawa’s head. Next time.

“And you?” Oikawa followed. “What’s your favorite food?”

“Curry,” his date answered plainly, his free hand discreetly traveling towards Oikawa’s hand on the bench.

A faint warmth bloomed in his chest. The brief touch of Ushijima’s fingers through Oikawa sent a pang of desire through him so strong he wanted to pull him in closer. It had taken all of him, all his self control to keep his breathing steady as he gazed back at the fountain.

That was all it took to have Oikawa’s gaze back at the fountain again, “These lights are familiar,” he started. “From my recitals from those years ago. It’s kinda nostalgic.”

When Ushijima didn’t say anything, he took it upon himself to turn his head back towards him. With the look written across Ushijima’s face and those eyes, he understood.

“I will pretend I haven’t heard the question in your eyes,” he groaned.

“No, tell me,” Ushijima leaned a little forward.

“It’s nothing, really. I just took up dancing a while back. Then I shifted to volleyball,” he eyed him, searching for any sign of mockery.

“Dancing?” Ushijima pondered, running a finger along his lips—the sight making Oikawa swallow—before returning his gaze to the other, “Could you, perhaps, show me?”

“What?” Oikawa asked in disbelief, turning left and right. “Here?”

Ushijima nodded.

“What?” he shook his head. “No!”

But Ushijima stood up and offered his hand. Oikawa stared at it for a moment, creasing his brows, but a ghost of a smile remained plastered across his lips. He looked around, searching for prying heads.

“There are people,” he argued in a whisper.

Ushijima shrugged, “People are too busy to care about anyone other than themselves.”

Oikawa let out a long sigh before he took Ushijima’s hand. Narrowing his eyes, he said, “Fine.”

He cleared his throat and lumbered, positioning himself in the center from where they stood. Ushijima could never tell him, but he looked like a perfect decoration in front of the fountain behind him.

Oikawa gazed across the stone pavement. Sliding his foot back and the other forward, he extended his arms in front in a smooth motion that truly suggested he had some background in the art. He was dancing, then his arms were flailing in the sky with feline grace. His scarf spun around him as he whirled, and he was thankful for the cold that he wouldn’t sweat. He felt like flying, until the ground was beneath his feet again.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d done this. And why did he stop?

Ushijima stared at the slightly breathless wonder in front of him as he skidded to a halt. His eyes twinkled, just a bit—in a way they usually did when he was amused but tried hard not to be.

Oikawa looked spectacular. Utterly and completely spectacular. A little stiff on the edges, but spectacular.

Oikawa picked up his scarf that fell on the ground. Then his eyes rested on Ushijima, whose hands were pocketed in his coat. A tug on the corner of his lips issued the bravado he’d been keeping.

“What? Amused?” he teased with a conspirator’s grin when he closed the final distance between them.

Ushijima just stared at him, taking in the warm gleam in his eyes. He said nothing, but his hand flew to Oikawa’s scarf. Both said nothing as Ushijima wrapped the it around him, “It always becomes loose when you’re the one putting it on.”

A delicious heat kissed its way down Oikawa’s neck to his spine as if there was some warmth left despite the winter.

“Perhaps I will take up dancing again,” he said in a little more than a whisper, his throat constricting at the moment.

A hush had fallen between them, but Oikawa felt as if there was something inside him that found it to be a perfect piece in their merriment. It went beyond his expectations. He enjoyed his time with Ushijima.

“Let’s take you home,” Ushijima said and Oikawa only nodded.

The streets were too quiet this time of the night—so quiet that only their footsteps and chuckles and moments of conversation lingered in the sleeping city. They were still talking and laughing, and it had been that way since they left the park, stepping forward with the wings of conversation.

“What was your favorite part?” Ushijima asked, his eyes not on the streets before him but on Oikawa. Such wild ecstasy, he noted.

Oikawa paused, his brows creasing as Ushijima waited for his answer, thinking. Then his eyes widened and met Ushijima’s, “Oh, you mean the movie?”

Ushijima only chuckled, “Yes, the movie.”

“Not the baby?”

“Yeah, and maybe that too,” a faint smile stretched Ushijima’s lips.

“Hmm, let’s see,” Oikawa looked forward, brows knotting yet again as he acted. His finger tapped on his lip in a way that forced Ushijima to remind himself to keep his focus on Oikawa’s eyes, “I like the part where the dad,” he stared back at Ushijima, “picked up the baby and they went outside. That scene was amazing!”

Ushijima chuckled, looking away from him and Oikawa realized how manly Ushijima’s voice was. Then Oikawa’s eyes scanned the street before him, how the establishments and the crooked, dark streets were becoming more and more familiar to him.

“You laughed at me earlier,” there was a hint of a smile on Ushijima’s lips.

Oikawa felt a little embarrassed, but he laughed, “You’ve gotta admit. It was kind of funny.”

“It was fine,” Oikawa answered seriously.

“Same here.”

“No way. I thought you liked Shakespeare,” he said in disbelief.

“I thought you liked Shakespeare,” Ushijima countered.

He assumed that Oikawa was interested in Shakespeare because, sometimes, he would post quotes from Romeo and Juliet. What Ushijima didn’t know was that: it was Oikawa’s literature teacher who originally posted those, and he only wanted to get on their good side.

“It took me some time to understand the words,” Oikawa admitted.

Ushijima’s smile widened, revealing his white teeth, “For saints have hands that pilgrims’ hands do touch, and palm to palm is holy palmers’ kiss.”

Oikawa’s hand flew to his mouth that went agape, “How did you memorize that?” he asked with amusement in his eyes.

“Say your lines,” Ushijima urged him.

“You are reciting Juliet’s lines,” Oikawa narrowed his eyes in thought, but the grin didn’t disappear from his lips.

“Say your lines,” Ushijima repeated, ignoring his remark.

Oikawa rolled his eyes, his brows knotting trying to remember the right words, “Have not saints lips, and holy palmers too?”

“Ay, pilgrim, lips that they must use in prayer.”

“You’re annoying. Mine is long,” he frowned at how fast Ushijima replied and how long he remembered the next line was. But it took only one grin from Ushijima and he started speaking.

“Something. Something,” his eyes almost bawled upwards trying to remember the words. “Let lips do what hands do. Uh. They pray grant thou, lest faith turn to despair..?” he finished with uncertainty. “Wait. How do you even memorize these?”

“Saints do not move, though grant for prayer's sake,” Ushijima continued.

“Then move not, while my prayers’ effect I take,” Oikawa grinned with how fast he recited the lines as he halted in front of his house and Ushijima did the same.

“Thus, from my lips,” Ushijima said hoarsely. Oikawa didn’t mean to, but his eyes went down to Ushijima’s lips, “by thine, my sin is purged.”

His heartbeat quickened when his gaze rose to Ushijima’s eyes, “Then have my lips the sin that they have took,” he said in a little more than a whisper.

The night was honest and his eyes whispered of how they met, how there was an unspoken understanding between them. And being with Ushijma was like staying in the rain, he still wanted to be in it one more time.

Through a clearing in the skies, clusters of stars could be seen and the sliver of the crescent moon shone above them as they stepped into the pool of moonlight.

“Good night,” Ushijima said. “You’re probably tired.”

But he was not tired, he was not done. There was still greed and want inside of him that made him want to pull Ushijima closer. The longing for a wave of touch and friction of joy that only grew bigger and bigger by the minute.

“Good night,” was all he replied, his voice so soft and mellow.

Oikawa turned his back on Ushijima, his steps feeling heavier by the minute as he trudged away from him. But he looked back, and the greed must have shown because Ushijima stood there, watching him, thinking.

He grinned and crossed his arms, “You do realize what time it is, right?”

Ushijima shrugged and pocketed his hands, “I just want to see you walk in.”

That was all it took for Oikawa to do the opposite. He went closer to Ushijima, closing the gap between them. There was only the absence of conversation and how much he wanted to touch Ushijima.

“It was enchanting to meet you,” Ushijima said quietly before his ears filled with the softness of Oikawa’s laughter.

“Do you know how cliche you sound, Romeo?” he teased.

Oikawa watched the way Ushijima’s lips widened in a smile and died down slowly.

“I think,” Ushijima started, the words were barely more than a strangled whisper, “I like you a lot.”

The longing blinded him, and he flung himself on Ushijima, breathing in his scent and the slight trace of cheese in him. He memorized the feel of him and the heat of Ushijima’s body hovering over him.

“We probably should just go to McDonald’s next time,” he teased.

“As long as I’m with you,” Ushijima chuckled against Oikawa’s lips. “I would like that very much.”

It was only that, and their lips touched.

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Wishing I was her

(not my gif but look how cute it is)(requested by anonymous)

(D- The reader has had a crush on Nick for a long time and realizes just how much she likes him after he gets together with Lindsay)

- It all started in middle school when you first laid eyes on Nick Andopolis. Back then he was less perfect, all gangly limbs and dorky smiles, but it was only a matter of time before you fell for him. And though your friends would tease you endlessly for it, you were never able to completely shake your attraction. Not even when he made friends with Daniel Desario, not even when he became a freak, not even when he dated Heidi Henderson and now not even as he dated Lindsay Weir.

- You felt utterly pathetic being so hung up on a guy who probably barely even knew you existed. You weren’t a freak, you weren’t even close to him, you were just y/n y/l/n the girl who was in his English class.

- What made it even more frustrating was that you could have gotten close to him just as easily as Lindsay had; maybe even easier. You’d been friends with Kim in the early years of middle school. How hard would it have been to ask her to hang out again?

- But you weren’t jealous, it was strange. You didn’t resent Lindsay or Nicky or anyone; you just felt like you missed an opportunity, one you’d never have again because him and Lindsay were perfect together. He was seriously in love and she, well you didn’t know Lindsay all too well but she seemed like a sweet girl.

- All you wanted to do was get rid of your feelings once and for all. To end what was going to destroy your chances of finding real love where you could.

- That’s why you were where you were now, standing at Kim Kelly’s locker, waiting for her to show up to get her books. She looked mildly amused seeing you there, looking completely out of place and awkward. She slowly sauntered up to you and you gave her a small smile, telling her that you’d been doing some reminiscing and was wondering if she’d want to hang out sometime.

- Perhaps it was because hanging out with you would make her look good to her mother or because a sliver of her actually wanted to be your friend again but she smirked, winked and said “You want to roll with the cool kids, huh? Alright, let’s get out of here.”

- Maybe it was a bitch move going through Kelly to fix your issues but you weren’t going to just dump her when you got the closure you felt you needed. You would still be her friend, would probably be all their friends if they actually accepted you, you just needed an easy way to get in.

- Your plan had been to become friends with Nick, crush that stupid crush you had on him by actually hanging out around him. You hoped that your feelings would just fade because you would finally know what he was actually like. He would no longer be some mysterious dream guy you could fantasize about. He would be a real person to you and one you might not like as much as you thought you did.

- And so, for the past week and a half you had been a certified member of the freaks. You’d been avoided by some of your classmates and insulted by others but you knew that that was just the way things were going to be from now on.  You really didn’t mind.

- You were sort of surprised to find that you really liked hanging out with the freaks. They were a nice change from everyone you had ever been friends with and oddly enough you seemed to just fit right in. It seemed that you particularly got along with Nick when he wasn’t hanging around Lindsay and being stoned out of his mind. 

- But during your time of hanging out with him you really started to figure things out and come to terms with your feelings. 

- You’d hung out with him, was able to see and hear about every stupid or disgusting thing he had ever done and yet... nothing changed. You still liked him and you realized that you were even worse off than before because now you knew for certain that you didn’t just have a crush on him. You were absolutely in love.

- He was no longer a mystery to you but you liked the real him even more than the version of him you had come up with. He really was your perfect guy in so many ways and you had probably lost any chance you might have had with him by not acting sooner.

- Everytime you saw them together you longed to be her. Sometimes it physically hurt to look at them. But then the unexpected happened. 

- Nick broke up with Lindsay and everything went to shit. He was depressed and completely hung up on her yet she didn’t seem all that hurt. It was as though the roles were reversed, as though she wasn’t the one who had supposedly been dumped.

- Then you learned the truth as to why they called it quits and your heart broke for him. Could he get more amazing? At this point you weren’t sure.

- But it hurt seeing him like that because you knew what it felt like to be in love with someone who really didn’t love you back. It hurt even more because you would have killed to have him yet he couldn’t even see what a great guy he was or how obviously in love with him you had been from the start. 

- Maybe you’d never had a chance with him but you would rather die then sit around and watch him mope. Yearning for a girl that just wasn’t into him as much as he hoped.  

- You wanted to support him, you really did, but hell it bothered you. More often than not you were the one to hang out with him because you felt an obligation to that no one else in the group really did. Perhaps they were used to it but you weren’t so you wanted to help him as much as you could. You felt like you owed it to him in some weird unexplainable way; to help him when no one else helped you, even though his situation was admittedly worse than yours. 

- So here you were, sitting in his basement watching him listen to music and lay on the couch like a corpse, limp and depressed looking. You couldn’t stand it. You shuffled across the couch so that you were sitting closer to him or rather to his head that was buried in a pillow. 

“Nick?” he groaned in response, the low sound muffled by the pillow. “Come on Nick, get up. You can’t suffocate yourself in a pillow all day.” 

- He pushed himself around so that he was laying on his back. The front of his hair stuck up and around in wild direction, you had to fight back the urge to reach out and fix it. Instead you patted his shoulder.

“Nick, you’re the greatest guy I’ve ever met. You’re funny, handsome, talented; any girl would be lucky to have you. And if Lindsay can’t see how amazing you are then maybe she just wasn’t right for you.”

“But she was the only girl whose ever understood me.” He replied.

“Well don’t I understand you?” You asked shyly, almost hopefully.

“I mean yeah but... you know what I mean. She was the only girl who understood me and loved me and wanted to be with me.” he said miserably.

“Well I’ve got news for you buddy.” You muttered almost under your breath as you looked at your hands, the floor, the walls; anywhere except for him.

- The couch squeaked and all of a sudden he was sitting up, his eyes locked on the side of your head. You could feel his gaze on you and it made you want to disappear. He’d obviously heard you. 

“What do you mean?” He asked. You wondered if you could make up an excuse and escape. 

“What do you want me to say Nick? That I love you? That I have loved you for a while now? Look I’m sorry. I know you don’t want to hear this right now, not from me at least so... so I think I should just go.” You sighed.

- You stood up and quickly gathered your things, heading up the basement steps as he sat silently on the couch. You weren’t sure what you thought was going to happen but deep down you think you knew this was how it was going to end. 

- You had managed to make it outside and a little ways down the street when you heard his door open and him emerge from behind it. He called after you but you didn’t stop, you just kept going, too embarrassed to face him and the rejection you knew he was bringing. Your mind was already searching for all the ways that you could fake your way out of going to school tomorrow

- In an instant you were being pulled back and into a hard chest, his arms wrapped around you and kept you close to him. You felt more than a little awkward as he held onto you for a long moment before he finally pulled back.

“I’m sorry, I... I didn’t realize that you liked me like that and well I... I’m not sure what to say but I’m uh, I’m happy, I’m really happy. I like it.” He laughed that awkward, unsure laugh of his and you couldn’t help but smile in return.

“Listen, I know you still like Lindsay and that’s alright. I’m not going to try to rush you into something just because I want it. If you want to do this then we can do it slowly, take things one step at a time. But first I think you need some time to be on your own and think everything through. As soon as you know what you want then I’ll be here alright? Just please tell me if you don’t want anything to do with me, I’d rather know then continue to hold out for no reason.” You said sincerely, giving him a small smile as he nodded at you. 

- He agreed and the two of you said goodbye to each other. When you got home it felt like a huge weight had been lifted off your shoulders, just letting him know how you felt had eased away so much of the stress that you had been carrying.

- It was a few days later that Nick had asked to talk to you. You were a little worried but the shy smile on his face kept you hopeful. Soon enough you were standing with him outside of his house, watching him lean against his car and search for the right words to say.

“I did some thinking like you told me. Good advice by the way, it really helped,” He laughed, his cheeks twinged a light pink. “But um, I’ve realized a few things about myself and about you and I just have to get them off my chest. Well I’ve realized that I don’t really miss Lindsay anymore and I don’t think she ever really missed me as much as I used to hope she did. And during that time? When I was thinking? I also realized that we were like really good together, you know? And that I don’t think I’d be whole without you like, like Zeppelin without Bonham. So Y/n....”

- You held you breath as he struggled to find the words. Your heart stopped beating and you wanted nothing more than to jump into his arms. 

“I love you and I want to be with you and I’m hoping that you’ll still take me.” He finished. 

- You grabbed his hands to make him look at you, your heart going back to normal and starting to beat quicker than before after hearing his final words. His gaze met yours and he shook his head with a smile, pulling you into him and wrapping his arms around you. You knew the pleasant feeling of being able to get something like that off your chest and you could see that pleasure written all over his face. 

“So do you want to go out sometime?” He asked jokingly yet you could still hear the twinge of uncertainty in his voice.

“I’d love to.” you assured and his arms tightened around you.

[gustafsnightangel]

Shattered Lives Ch 12 Pt 2

She heard Gustaf talk to Lily while she made some mashed banana and smiled. She was so relieved he was home, the weight of the week ahead had already lifted a little. She wasn’t alone and that made her emotions catch in her throat.

He watched Sildie in the kitchen as she placed food on the table ready for lunch. She was only just holding it together, those raw emotions seconds away from spilling from her. He knew she was trying to not let the week ahead consume her today. Knowing she’d planned something for his return and those plans were abruptly put on hold hadn’t made the day easier for her.

“Come on miss Lily bear. Let’s go see what we can get to settle in your tummy.” He sat up and Lily hung on tightly. There was no getting her to let him go for the moment.

“She’s going to get you all dirty if you have her in your lap.” Sildie smiled, knowing the kid wouldn’t be going anywhere without Gustaf.

“Well it’s that or crying because I don’t think she’s going to let me put her in her chair.” He said softly as he looked at the tiny hand fisted in his shirt.

They ate and talked about Friday and the trip to the snow, anything to keep her mind off the grief. After some coaxing Lily finally ate, even if it was only half of what Sildie had plated for her, half was better than nothing. Sildie cleaned up the table, while Gustaf took Lily to change her hoping she’d fall asleep soon.

“You’re not feeling the best are you Lily bear.” Her eyes were red, nose starting to stuff up. The only blessing was she hadn’t thrown up again, yet. “Come on let’s get a nap on on the couch huh?” He could see her eyes drooping and curled her into him.

Gustaf came out to find Sildie curled up in the one seat with a book and smiled. Down time, even though the mind was busy it wasn’t work, it wasn’t fried from stress, and it wasn’t the kids. Without a word he kissed her head and moved to lay on the couch. Her hand found his and she squeezed it. Sometimes words weren’t needed to convey the simple thank you.

He gave her a returned squeeze and stretched out on the couch. He curled Lily into him, resting her along the back of the couch for support. Putting her favorite cartoon on he turned the volume down low. He toyed with her hair, soothing, calming and watched as she eventually closed her eyes and let sleep take her.

She watched him from over her book the sight warming her heart. Those long legs stretched out, Lily cuddled in tightly, his huge hand so gentle as he soothed her to sleep. With a slight smirk she continued with her book. There would be no way he could detach himself from her for them to have some one on one time now, that was just how life went today.

A couple of hours had past and when she put her book down to go and make tea she smiled looking at the beautiful man fast asleep on her couch, Lily still cradled to him as if she were his own. She remembered Quinn doing the exact same thing with Brendan and that thought lodged a rock in her throat.

She let him be and went to make tea, she’d have to pick the boys up soon and was warring with whether to wake Gustaf and take Lily with her or just leave them be. She wanted to leave them snuggled comfortably but there was always that apprehension, that doubt. She thought it through, chewed it over and over in her mind. She had to trust him if this was ever going to work and she knew deep down he’d never hurt them.

She wrote a sticky note for him and toyed with it. Biting her bottom lip she pulled out her phone and smiled. She took a photo, she had to have it, it was such an adorable sight. Would he be like this to our kids she wondered.

“Whoa! Where the fuck did that come from.” She muttered and snapped her mouth shut. She didn’t want kids, or did she now she had Gustaf? That wasn’t a thought she was entertaining right now and was furious at herself for even thinking of it. He might not even want kids she though abruptly. She wasn’t sure she wanted kids and it was the first time she’d ever felt conflicted about it.

“Fucking hormones.” She muttered as she got dressed. “Fucking emotions.”

When she was ready to head out the door she gently placed the sticky note on his chest and kissed his brow. He didn’t stir, one of those rare moments he was out cold, vulnerable, and it made her smile. He was just as at ease here with her as she was with him.

He woke to a quiet house, eerily quiet like it was just him and Lily. His hand brushed paper and found a sticky note. He saw her elegant handwriting and smiled.

Back in 30 or so, picking up the boys.

It was progress he thought for her to leave him alone with Lily. Her trust in him meant everything, more reason to not fall back into bad habits and old demons. He couldn’t, wouldn’t, fuck this up.

“Oh little lady you’re burning up.” He murmured as he brushed his knuckles across Lily’s forehead and kissing her brow. “Here’s hoping it’ll burn right out of your system by tomorrow.” He knew that was wishful thinking.

He watched as those bright blue eyes fluttered open and knew she was miserable. She tried to sit up and couldn’t and the sobs soon told him how miserable she was.

“Easy there Lily bear.” He cooed and sat up, pulling her gently into his lap.

He let her get her bearings before standing and taking her to run a tepid bath. He turned the water on for a bath in Sildies bathroom and sat Lily on the change table. She wasn’t screaming but her gentle sobs were enough to break his heart.

“I know love, you’re all hot and feel crappy. Let’s see how you’re doing after a bath huh?” He said gently as he undressed her. He sat her in the water and let her sob it out, that tiny fist clutching his finger.

Scooping water into his hand he let it run over her back, hopefully taking the heat of the fever with it. He splashed water over her legs and after a while he could see her start to come around. She started slapping her hands onto the water and looking at him, occasionally splashing him. She was still glassy eyes and feverish but obviously felt better.

Those big blue eyes held his. She was such a sweetheart and he felt the emotion catch in his throat. Could he live up to her expectations of him he wondered. Could he really be the father she’d asked him to be? That thought scared the shit out of him really. He could be the big brother, the dad like person in a heartbeat, but to Lily he was essentially her father. How could he live up to that with a past like his, demons like his?

“You put way too much trust in me little lady.” He sighed and smiled at her as she splashed his arm. “I don’t think I’m cut out for what you’re asking me to be, but I’ll try. For you I’ll try.” His murmur was soft and she answered him with a soft dad dad. “I don’t want to let you down Lily bear.”

He heard the front door and figured Sildie would find her way into the bathroom eventually. He continued to sit with Lily and let her splash and play. It was better than the fever spiking further and tears, she seemed happy for the moment. He also needed time to let his darker thoughts vanish.

“Here you are.” Sildie said smiling from the doorway.

“Yeah I woke up a little bit ago and her fever was high. She’s doing better now though.” He said as Lily said a quiet dad dad.

“I’m hoping it burns out tonight.” Sildie sat on the edge of the tub and ran her fingers across Lily’a forehead.

“Me too. You still want me to stay?” He asked knowing she would.

“Yes. If you have other things to do I’ll understand.” She smiled at him thankful he was able to do this much.

“I just need to go home and change out of jeans if I’m going to sleep on the couch with her.” He chuckled.

“Go grab some clothes while I sit here with her. It’ll be the only time she’s not crying for you.” Sildie smirked and he chuckled.

“You have a point.” He stood and kissed Sildie before she had time to move. “I’ll be back love.” He murmured.

She watched Lily splash in the tub and smiled. Lily still wasn’t feeling the best but at least she was happier. She couldn’t explain the tears that suddenly fell, they just fell. They weren’t sad or happy tears they were just falling. Relief maybe, relief that she had Gustaf to lean on. Or maybe they were just tears because of the week it was going to be.

He said hello to the boys on his way back to Sildie’s bedroom. All three with huge smiles on their faces that he was home. They were good kids and hoped he could give them what they needed as well.

Watching her from the doorway he could see the tears run down Sildie’s cheeks as Lily played. He said nothing and sat on the edge of the tub while she quietly wept, gentle fingers stroking through her hair. Lily chattered a dad dad and he smiled at her.

“Could you grab her towel please.” Sildie asked as she collected herself and started to lift Lily out of the tub.

Gustaf bundled Lily into his arms and blew a big wet raspberry on her belly which made the kid giggled.

“Someone’s feeling a little better.” He murmured as he sat Lily on the change table to dry her off.

He was dressing her when he heard the tub drain and Sildie’s arms snake around his waist, her head resting in the dip of his shoulder blades. He took her hand in his and brought it to his lips to kiss her knuckles before placing it over his heart. She just stood and breathed, reeling in the emotions to get some sort of handle on them.

“Now little lady, shall we go help Ama with dinner?” He said softly and Lily clapped her hands together with a happy mum mum. “That’s right.”

He turned and scooped Sildie into his arms. Those ice blue eyes looked back and he drowned in her. With a hand under her sweater at the bare skin of her lower back he kissed her with all the love he had for her.

“I love it when you kiss me like that.” Her voice soft.

“I know.” His growl was playful, anything to see a glimpse of that smile this week.

“Come on I gotta go make food before the boys start raiding the fridge.” She sighed and let go of him.

“Sildie?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re beautiful.” He grinned that mischievous grin.

“Only to you.” She laughed shaking her head and went to the kitchen.

“That’s what we gotta do this week Lily bear. Keep Ama smiling and laughing as much as we can.” He kissed the child on the neck and let his scruff tickle her which had her giggling.

They all sat at the table for dinner, and Sildie couldn’t help the overwhelming pull of emotion. They were a family, yet it shouldn’t look like this. She missed Quinn and Dana, this is what their family should’ve looked like. Gustaf’s hand gently gripped her knee in a venture that clearly said I understand and I’m here for you.

She watched the boys eat and laugh and ask Gustaf all sorts of questions about his travels this past six weeks. He happily told them almost verbatim what it was like. Lily ate a little more than at lunch which had her hoping for a smooth night tonight and tomorrow.

“Can we stay up late so Gustaf can play games?” Liam asked as they ate.

“We talked about this Liam.” She said gently. “School nights are school nights, no exceptions.” The boys were about to argue until they saw her face and the don’t push it look and thought better of it.

“Are you sleeping here tonight?” Brendan asked Gustaf quietly.

“I’d like to, if you’re all ok with that? If not it’s cool and I’ll go home and see you tomorrow.” He wasn’t going to pressure any of them. He wanted to stay but they all had a say in when that happened.

“I’d like you to stay.” Brendan’s voice was barely there.

Gustaf looked at the twins and they nodded. “You ok with that love?” His knuckles brushed her knee gently.

“Sure.” She breathed out relieved.

“I guess I’m staying for breakfast then.” He grinned at the kids and those smiles lit up his world as he started to clear the table.

“I got it.” He said to Sildie and kissed the top of her head hoping she’d sit down.

She sat down as his lips met her head and the boys looked back, a little wide eyed but smiling. Brendan nodded as if to say it was all ok and her nerves settled. She let out a shuddered breath and smiled at them.

“You’re ok with this? You’re sure? No turning back remember?” The boys nodded. “Ok then.” Her smile soft as her heart did flips. We’re they really ready for this? “Homework done?” She asked the boys and Brendan nodded. The twins still had their math to get through.

“Bring it out here and we can finish it together.” She said to the twins as Brendan grabbed his book and curled up on the one seat.

Sildie hauled Lily out of the high chair and went into the kitchen to find Gustaf loading the dishwasher. She slipped her arm around him and he turned to kiss her tenderly.

“Thank you.” She said quietly.

“Anytime love, you know that.” He murmured and continued to stack the plates.

She sat at the table with the twins and went through their homework with them, Lily happy in her lap. She squealed a dad dad as Gustaf came into view and she watched the boys carefully. She knew how Finn felt about it but he seemed to be ok with it now. Things were settling with time.

Sildie was explaining a math question to the boys when Gustaf silently stood beside her, clapped his hands together quietly for Lily to see and she reached for him. He took her into his arms and the little girl chattered to him while he went to change her for bed time. He hoped she’d go down without fuss even though she’d slept half the day.

He came out to a commotion and giggle fest in the bathroom, the twins were having a water fight in the bath. He stuck his head into the bathroom and the twins settled down.

“Are you supposed to be goofing around?” He asked gently.

“No.” Liam said with a grin.

“Well it’s your hide but you might not want to push Ama this week guys you know she’s already stressed enough don’t make it worse for her. Scrub and out ok?” He said goodnight to Brendan as he passed the kid’s bedroom and sat at the table with Lily in his lap for tea.

“Thanks for talking to the twins I was about to go in there and haul them out by their ears.” She said taking a seat.

“Team work.” He grinned and Lily clapped her hands and then patted them against Gustaf’s face. “Now to get this one to sleep.”

“Yeah good luck. She’s probably going to be up half the night with the amount of sleep she had today. She’s looking better than earlier though.”

“Hopefully just a 24 hour bug.” He kissed her temple and she squealed.

“Fingers crossed and thank you. It would have been a hellish day had you not been here.” She sipped her tea and saw the twins walk into their room. “Be right back I have to get the boys tucked in.”

His hand caught her as she went walk past and he tugged her to sit on his thigh.

“I like not having to worry about kissing you in front of the kids.” He murmured and gently kissed the nape of her neck. “I’ve missed the feel of you love.”

“Me too.” She sighed as his hand slipped under her sweater to cup a lace clad breast. “I’ll be right back.”

She left him sitting there while she read to the twins. His touch had already ignited a fire within her which was crap. That fire had been on a slow fucking burn for weeks now. SA If she was being honest she wanted him to fuck her senseless.

The afternoon with the kids had gone well apart from the twins testing the waters of what they could get away with, she’d expected that though. She knew there would be moments that were less peaceful but for the most part they gelled pretty well. She came back into the living room to find Gustaf sitting on the couch with Lily snuggled into him again, she was almost asleep.

“Mr Baby Whisperer over here.” She chuckled and sat next to him.

“I simply explained to her she had to go to sleep so you and I could have wild monkey sex.” He muttered and Sildie laughed, how he loved that laugh. “And that she wasn’t allowed to wake up when I made you scream my name.”

“It also might be the paracetamol I gave her in her juice at dinner.” She said and brushed her fingers over Lily’s hair.

“Drugged her up.” He raised an eyebrow in humor.

“Had to get the fever down and keep it down, so I’m hoping she sleeps the rest of it off and wakes tomorrow back to normal.” She watched Lily as she clung to Gustaf. There would be no other for that kid now. In her world he was her dad.

He let his hand wander her legging clad thigh as they talked. She seemed relaxed since it was decided by the boys he’d stay. It’s how he wanted life for her, relaxed and as stress free as he could possibly make it.

With Lily asleep in his arms he went to put her down. She didn’t stir but he sat on the floor anyway and made sure she wasn’t going to wake. Her tiny DIA gripping his finger tightly again. A little while later he heard Sildie come in and shut the door. The quiet click of the lock made him smile.

“I put your phone next to mine.” She whispered as she sat down beside him.

Leaning into him she rested her head on his shoulder and watched Lily sleep. His lips pressed to her head and he lingered breathing in that scent he’d missed so much. Damn he was so in love with her.

“I’ve missed this.” She whispered. “Having you close.” His kiss to her hair was all the answer she needed.

“Kids asleep?” He asked softly as he started to pry his finger from Lily’s fist.

“For now. We’ll see how many times the twins get up in the middle of the night to check if you’re still here or not.” She turned and kissed him on the cheek sweetly before she stood. She stripped the sweater and leggings off but his hand stopped hers gently as she reached for her crop top.

“Leave them on.” He growled quietly that low timbre sending a shot of lust to her core. He tenderly stroked his knuckles down Lily’s cheek and pulled the blanket up to cover her.

Standing quietly he saw Sildie sitting on the corner of the bed, legs spread apart by the ninety degree angle. His goddess in black lace with her halo of copper, she was a vision. He stood between her legs, knees resting on the corner of the mattress, not taking his eyes off her.

His gaze drew her in and made her pussy tingle. She knew that gaze, he was going to fuck her, and hard. She’d been aching for it all day. A single finger trailed the underside of her chin mimicking the gesture from the single gerbera petal at the hotel. Lifting her chin she looked up at him.

She was even more beautiful in the soft glow of the lamp, those curves begging for him to touch. He dipped his head down and kissed her with a tenderness she’d never felt from him before. It held a promise of love, of trust, of vulnerability. He was giving himself to her completely and it rocked her, simply saying trust me, love me.

Her hands slipped beneath his shirt and he let her remove it. The feel of her fingers against his chest made his cock twitch in the constraint of the denim jeans, he’d missed that touch. So sensual, so erotic without even trying to be.

He deepened the kiss and leaned forward so she lay back against the mattress, pressing his chest to her. Without a word he kissed his way down her throat, over her collarbone, until his lips found the edge of the lace at her cleavage. He hooked a finger in the strap and pulled the lace down enough to expose her nipple. He gently sucked it into his mouth and rolled his tongue over it until it was a hard nub and her breathing changed to a moan.

As he devoured the other nipple his fingers danced over lace and flesh, arousing, seducing. Slipping under the scrap of lace at her crotch his fingers slipped over her clit and a quiet gasp left her lips. He gently worked the g string from her hips with that one finger and guided her legs up one at a time so he could slip it off her.

His mouth teased its way down her torso until he was kneeling at her feet, and without warning feasted on her soaked folds. The strangled cry had him smiling as he gripped her hips, pulled her down to the very corner of the mattress, ran his hands along her inner thighs to push them up and positioned her feet on his shoulders. The feel of his palms on her inner thighs had her relaxing them which opened her up to him.

That clever mouth, how could she have forgotten what that did to her. The feel of his tongue swirling at her entrance before darting in, the way it licked her from pussy to clit and then sucked there until she was ready to explode. His hands gently squeezed her breasts under the lace, pinched her nipples until they were sensitive and eager for his mouth again.

He toyed with her until her soft whimper begged him for more. Slipping out of his jeans and briefs he kissed his way up her body, busy hands taking the crop top with it. She raised her arms for him to remove it completely but he left it at her wrists, twisted around enough for her to feel but not hurt, a silent ask for her to leave it and her hands where he’d bound them.

Tangling his fingers into her hair he kissed her, tongue teasing hers.

“You’re so beautiful Sildie.” He murmured against her lips, his eyes finding hers.

“Only to you love.” Her voice soft.

“Let me have you.” He breathed and lowered his body so it was just brushing hers. “All of you.”

“You’ll always have me.” She said quietly and kissed him sweetly, tongue teasing.

It was that sweetness from her that made his heart yearn for her more and more. She knew he was asking permission, permission to fuck her hard. He’d always ask because he’d never forgive himself if he hurt her. Ever.

He kissed his way down her body, savoring every curve and dip, every shiver of anticipation, every sigh and moan. Standing to that towering height her eyes roamed that chiseled body that was about to bring her undone. Her eyes feasted where her hands couldn’t.

He placed his hands at her knees and gently pushed them up and out so her feet were almost at her hips. Taking his already rock hard cock in his hand he ran the tip along her glistening pussy and saw the shudder run across her body.

He positioned himself at her heat and spread his feet further apart, at this angle he’d have purchase and power to fuck her deeply and hard. That thought alone made his cock throb.

He leaned over her and kissed that mouth he craved. He’d wanted her bound and laid out for him for a long time. Supporting himself on his hands he slowly fucked her with the tip of his shaft. Watching her as the sensation flowed over her.

She dropped her arms to curl around his neck, the lace crop top still binding her wrists. She pulled her to him and kissed him. She felt his finger hook around the lace and he gently but forcefully pulled her wrists back to where he wanted them.

“Keep them there love.” He growled and nipped her jaw roughly.

He tormented her with his tip, that was the only body part touching her and it was driving her mad. She wanted to feel that body against her, she loved the feel of him moving as he claimed her. That thick cock inside her.

He gazed into those ice blue eyes as he felt the need and arousal rise in her. Her pussy clenched and begged him to plunge inside. Keeping his arms straight he dipped his head down to claim her mouth, desperation kissed him back.

“Gustaf.” She breathed.

“Not yet love.” He kissed her softly. “I want you soaked and begging before I fuck you.” He murmured and grazed his teeth over her jaw.

She went to lower her arms again out of sheer desperation to feel him but he repositioned his hand between her wrists. With the lace of her crop top secured she couldn’t move and it sent a thrill up her spine. A touch of fear flashed through her body before it settled into arousal. She trusted him and knew he wouldn’t hurt her.

He watched her carefully as he secured her wrists with the lace tangled in his hand. Saw the flash of fear turn to arousal. Those eyes flicked to his looking for reassurance. He lowered his head to her and kissed her with tenderness, a promise of pleasure not pain, to trust him.

Her fingers brushed his and she squeezed them in a silent response.

“Have I ever told you how beautiful you are love?” He murmured at her ear and kissed that spot just below it that he knew made her shudder. “All laid out for me, ready to pleasure, ready to devour, ready to fuck.”

“Please.” She whimpered as his words washed over her making her squirm to try and get closer to him. He could charm a fence post with those words, that tone.

With his thumb hooked into the lace binding her wrists he pulled it further up the bed taking her arms with it. His free hand stroked a finger under her chin and she tipped her head back to look at him, desire looked back. He bent down so his lips ghosted hers before kissing her tenderly.

That free hand not supporting his weight trailed down her body to squeeze a breast before it traveled further south and slipped over her clit. He saw her bite down on her lower lip to stop the loud cry that she wanted to let escape. It made him groan all the same, he kissed her chastely and freed her lip by sucking it from between her teeth.

“Don’t test my patience love.” His throaty growl made her pussy quiver and it wasn’t lost on him.

He stroked his finger against her clit until she was on the brink and then stopped, her body writhing to try and find release. His thighs pressed against hers to keep her from pulling them together and waited. He dropped his head to brush his lips against hers.

“Please.” She whispered as she moved her hands against his, the lace that bound them cutting in, stopping her from touching him.

His cock was still and the lack of movement was driving her insane.

“What do you want love?” He whispered, ghosting his lips over hers.

“You. I want you to...” She said between her shuddered breaths.

“Want me to do what?” He murmured in that seductive tone.

“I want you to fuck me.” She finally got out as her body came down from the almost orgasm.

Without warning, without another thought he gently pulled her wrists so her arms were stretched above her head flush against her ears and thrust his hips hard. He couldn’t stop the groan of pleasure as he filled her, his cock bottoming out at her deepest point. That groan was mixed with a strangled cry of pleasure as she took him inside her.

It was a brutal thrust but she only felt the pleasure and ecstasy as he claimed her. He filled her, stretched her wide, caressing her inner most points. He didn’t pause, he pulled out just as fast and slammed back into her.

His rhythm was unrelenting and deep as he pounded into her. Hips pistoned and the shock of his body meeting hers made her whole body quiver and wobble, the bed shaking violently in response. He looked down her body as he claimed her. Those soft curves shaking in time with his thrusts, those gorgeous breasts bouncing, his cock spearing into her.

“Gustaf, please.” She whimpered, she needed release, it was right there tormenting her.

“Soon love.” He breathed, he was enjoying the feel of her, the look of her. She fulfilled every fantasy he’d ever had as the memory of her boudoir photos flashed before his eyes.

He lowered his arm between her bound ones and thrust deeper, she felt so fucking good. Her cry as he bottomed out, the twist in his hips grinding against her clit made her struggle against his hand. She was writhing beneath him struggling to claim that one thing that would tip her over.

“Please.” Her whimper was close to tears.

“Sildie.” He breathed as he pounded into her. “Come for me love.”

“I can’t.” She choked as her body started trembling, so aroused her release was hovering just out of reach.

He brushed his lips against her ear. “Relax love, let take you.” He murmured in that low tone he knew made her weak. “Let it claim you.”

He quickened his pace and stroked his hand down her body, pinching her nipples hard. He heard the choked breath in and felt her body tense.

“Let go and come for me love.” He murmured and pinched her nipple again, moving from one to the other until her body shook uncontrollably. She was right on the edge. “I want to watch you come.”

As he slammed into her taking her as hard and deeply as he could, his finger slipped over her clit. He watched as the pleasure shattered her. He covered her mouth with his, swallowing her scream as she came so hard he thought her spine would snap as she arched.

Her breathing was erratic as he continued to fuck her in search of his own release. As her pussy gripped him like a velvet vice he tensed slightly before his own climax thundered through him. He only slowed to a stop when they were both spent.

He looked down at her, those ice blue eyes captivating him. He gently released her wrists and unbound them from the black lace, kissing where the lace had cut in, her wrists slightly red.

Her hand grazed his cheek and he leaned into it wanting to feel it against him, her tenderness. He massaged each shoulder to work the stiffness out as the other hand cupped her face. Her eyes locked on his and held him there.

“You ok love?” He asked kissing her sweetly, those eyes searching.

“Yes.” Her breathing was still erratic and shuddered in and out, her body shook.

“You sure?” He kissed her gently now as his brow knit with concern.

“It was intense.” She said quietly and toyed with the scruff at his jaw.

“Did I hurt you?” He asked softly, that was what terrified him the most.

She shook her head. “No, it was just more intense than I thought it would be.” She looked into those Nordic blue eyes and saw the concern.

“I like giving myself to you.” She said softly and that statement almost stopped his heart.

“And I like it when you do. I like pleasuring you love.” He kissed her with that deep love he had locked away. “Watching you let go, it’s beautiful.”

He pulled out of her and helped her to her feet, legs still shaky. His arms wrapped around that curvy body and he kissed her tenderly. She went to the bathroom while he got settled under the covers.

He was almost asleep when she climbed in beside him. His hand blindly found her hip and guided her to him. He wanted her close, curled in. Be damned if he was sleeping without her warmth and love pressed against him tonight.

“You sure you’re ok?” He asked, he hadn’t expected her reaction and kicked himself, he probably should have given her emotional state this week. She was a little quiet.

“I’m sure.” She looked at him as her head snuggled against his shoulder. “I’ll tell you if there’s something I don’t like.” She kissed him so his toes curled.

“You can’t kiss me like that when we need sleep and I just fucked you like I did.” He chuckled softly and she grinned.

“Oh yes I can.” Her quiet chuckle was playful.

“Thank you for staying.” Her voice already sleepy as she closed her eyes and relaxed into those strong arms she’d dreamed about.

“No place I’d rather be.” He kissed her brow as she settled into him, his warmth and scent lulling her to sleep.

“I missed you.” She slurred.

“I missed you too love, sleep now.”

[puddygeeks]

Wᴇ Cᴏᴍᴇ Rᴜɴɴɪɴɢ - Tʜᴇ 100 Bᴇʟʟᴀᴍʏ x OC - Cʜᴀᴘᴛᴇʀ 22: Uɴɪᴛʏ Dᴀʏ

Masterlist

Episode: Unity Day

Rating: Mature

Summary: During her time in the Skybox, Indigo formed a precious friendship with fellow outcast Octavia Blake, the girl under the floor. At first they thought their departure from the oppression of the Ark was a blessing, but quickly came to rely on Indigo's keen survival instincts. The 100 struggle to meet the challenges of Earth whilst Bellamy strives to lead the wavering teenagers and his irresponsible attitude fuels constant conflict with Indigo. Their only shared interest is in protecting Octavia and Indigo beings to suspect that there is a deeper cause to Bellamy's seemingly irrational choices. As the consequences of his actions mount up around him, he finally begins to confide in her and she discovers more than she ever bargained for. 

Fandom: CW’s The 100

Pairing: OC x Bellamy Blake

LONG TERM ONGOING PROJECT :)

My writing is entirely fuelled by coffee! If you enjoy my work, feel free to donate toward my caffeine dependency: will work for coffee

Warnings: Mature content. Non-consent, language, sex, self harm, suicide, anxiety, helplessness, torture, captivity/confinement, alcohol/drug use.

Chapter Twenty-Two

I stalked into the tent and dropped onto my bed, unable to stop the tears from coming now that I’d opened the floodgates. I cradled myself and cried as I allowed myself the time to release the feelings whilst I was alone. Just as I was feeling relieved that Ocavia wasn’t in the tent, the entrance opened and she stepped in.

“Indie!” What’s wrong?!” She gasped as she rushed to my side and squeezed me into her grasp.

“It’s nothing, it’s just been a hell of a day.” I muttered as I wiped at my face and tried to stop the flow of tears. I tried to downplay the stress that I felt but my body refused to comply.

“It doesn’t look like it’s nothing.” She acknowledged as she rubbed my arms soothingly. “Come on, you’re always there for me, let me return the favour.” She remarked as she surveyed my miserable expression and I felt my lip wobble. I stayed in her arms and cried without saying anything for a while. I conceded to allow her to comfort me and she sat in silence at my side. Once I finally started to feel calm, I dried my face and looked over to her with a tired stare. 

“It’s just been a lot since we got here.” I sighed in the hope that she would allow me to leave it at that, but she studied me closely.

“Yeah, you can say that again. Maybe it’s time to practice what you preach and stop trying to be so tough all the time.” She scoffed, before softening her tone and squeezing my hand reassuringly. I tried to hold in the words that fought to escape me and once I met her sympathetic eyes, I knew it was useless. 

“It would help if you and your brother weren’t the most stress inducing creatures known to man.” I groaned openly and I genuinely meant every word. “When I first entered the Skybox, I couldn’t imagine ever having someone to care about again. Now I’m here and I have you, Bellamy, Monty, Jasper, I care about all of you and it’s so stressful. Then you add the rest of camp and I don’t know any of them that well, but I am just desperate to not lose anyone else.” I rambled. “I’m starting to think it was easier to not care.” I mumbled as I felt her assessing eyes on me. I felt genuinely exhausted from all of the worry and I wasn’t sure if I could carry much more of it.

“You include Bellamy pretty high on that list?” She smiled coyly and even though it was genuine, I couldn’t help but feel that she was still trying to suggest something.

“God, yes! I care about Bellamy.” I breathed, unable to avoid her infuriating questions through my exhaustion. “You want me to say it so bad? I'll say it! I care. He’s an exhausting, unpredictable idiot but he isn’t a bad person. He makes bad choices, absolutely. But since I’ve been here, I’ve seen that he is capable of deep kindness and compassion, and that he really does care about people so deeply that he has to constantly focus on acting like he doesn’t. And I understand that better than I’d ever like to admit.” I spat, allowing my annoyance at her prying to come to a head. “I want to help him make better decisions and it is the most thoroughly frustrating, mind fucking experience of my life.” I confessed in a more spiteful tone than I’d intended. Octavia laughed in response and I looked at her in surprise. 

“Yeah, you’ve got him sussed completely.” She smiled with a refreshing attitude and peeked at me in understanding. “I’m glad he’s got you to talk to. He doesn’t deserve it, but I’m glad.” She added with a hint of bitterness. I did want to find out what had happened between them but I was too overwhelmed to pry into that right now. I sighed and looked at her in exhaustion. 

“You lied to him earlier. Why?” I relayed what I had witnessed with a feeling of dread in my stomach. I knew I wasn’t going to be able to sleep as long as this played on my mind and I really did need to sleep.

“What choice did I have? Tell him I did it?” She looked at me in bewilderment and I shrugged in response. It was a struggle to think of something to say that could guide her to reflect on her decision in my current state. I rubbed my eyes and groaned at her with annoyance. 

“You need to talk. I’m sick of carrying both of your secrets and being stuck between you all the time. You’re a family, trust each other.” I spoke as if it were the most obvious answer and she glowered at me in response. “I don’t care how you do it, but you need to tell him. And he needs to tell you everything too. You can’t just keep hiding things from each other forever. Put your grudges aside and clear the air, for my sake.” I pleaded, before fidgeting in a way that indicated that I wanted to go to sleep.

“I promise I’ll think about it.” She breathed and I decided that this was good enough for tonight.

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

I woke the next day feeling fresh from practically passing out in exhaustion the night before. I sat up to see that Octavia was gone, but I didn’t panic as she’d been doing that a lot lately. I decided to take my own advice and trust her, as I knew that I couldn’t continue living with the level of stress that I had been since we arrived. I took my time to get dressed, clean myself up and brush my hair as best I could. 

I emerged from the tent to find that it was almost midday and surprised myself at how long I’d managed to sleep. I collected some rations and settled in a quiet spot to eat. I watched the others milling around camp and I was relieved to see that there didn't seem to be anything particularly going on. It made a pleasant change to the chaos that had been almost constant lately and I absorbed the quiet atmosphere gratefully.

“Hey, I missed you last night.” Bellamy appeared from behind with a fond smile and sat beside me comfortably. “I can’t even believe I’m saying it, but the plan worked. The Chancellor pardoned me.” He announced quietly as he kept his view trained to me. Everything about his demeanour had changed and he seemed more relaxed than I’d ever seen him.

“Oh so I’m talking to the newly pardoned Bellamy Blake?” I asked in a dramatic tone and he chuckled back in an easy manner. “How does it feel?” I enquired with a hopeful interest.

“Surreal.” He answered as he gazed thoughtfully out into the camp. “But good, like a weight has been lifted.” He confirmed and I smiled earnestly at him, watching his calm expression. 

I could feel the relaxation in his body and it seemed as if it was washing over me too. I couldn’t tell if it was simply because being around someone calm helps to put others at ease, or if it were actually seeing him look so much happier that relieved my stress. We sat in a comfortable silence, enjoying each other's presence before Bellamy noticed movement and seemed to suddenly remember why he approached me.

“You missed the gun training groups this morning.” He clocked me casually and I felt myself involuntarily straighten up at his words.

“That’s fine, I don't want a gun so I don't need the training.” I declared without facing him. I tried to still sound relaxed, but even the very mention of guns had caused tension in me. He made a quizzical expression and raised a brow at me as I tried to pretend that I didn’t notice.

“You need to have a gun Indie, just in case. I think there’s some more sessions this afternoon so I’ll let you know.” He explained in a matter of fact tone. I smiled at his easy use of the nickname, noticing a slight fondness in his voice as he said it, but I couldn’t focus on that now.

“I’m not going to class Bellamy, I don’t want a gun.” I repeated firmly and I could feel myself becoming guarded against him. I didn’t want to be shirty with him but I was unimpressed that he was pushing the matter. He sighed at my reaction and adjusted his voice to speak gently. 

“Are you afraid of guns?” He investigated as I found myself enthralled by something in the distance that just happened to be in the other direction from him. 

“No.” I defended as I tried to convince myself as much as him. I didn’t like the idea of admitting that I was afraid of anything, especially something that would paint me as foolish. “I’m just more of a hand to hand kind of girl, I’m perfectly fine with my dagger.” I remarked in a poor excuse as I shifted uncomfortably. I slid myself slightly further from him and he clearly noticed it.

“Daggers aren’t always going to do it though. Wouldn’t it be better to be able to keep people from getting close enough to keep giving you black eyes?” He argued, brushing a hand on my cheek. His tone forced a smile out of me and I knew from his words that this was coming from a place of concern for me. Before I could argue any more, he got to his feet. “I’ve got a couple of hours free, come with me.” He suggested and I couldn’t think of a believable reason to decline his offer. 

I followed Bellamy into the woods in a confused silence. He was still relaxed and I took this as a good sign, but I had a slight knot in my stomach as I followed him into the unknown. He led me into an opening where there were some empty metal containers set on tree stumps and my stomach lurched at the sight. Although I couldn't admit it, the very idea of shooting a gun set a terror in me. I was comfortable with defending myself and in doing what was necessary to survive, but there was something about guns that gave me a feeling of unpredictability that I didn’t get from knives. I could only think it came from my lack of understanding around them, but I felt that there was a monumental amount of responsibility involved in owning one. Bellamy turned to face me with an encouraging smile. 

“If you don’t want to go to class, I’ll teach you myself.” He drawled with confidence and I squinted at him in uncertainty. 

“Bellamy, I appreciate what you’re trying to do and I’m totally behind the idea of guns for the guards, but I don’t know if I can do this.” I mumbled as I stepped backwards defensively. He followed me encouragingly and carefully took hold of my hands. 

“If you really don't want to do this, I won't make you.” He remarked, earning a breath of relief from me. “But it’s dangerous out here and I would feel better knowing that you were able to shoot and had a gun on you. Just indulge me and give it a try.” He requested and I took a deep breath before nodding reluctantly.

“Okay, come on, I’ll be right here the whole time.” He reassured as he led me into the clearing. He pulled out the pistol that he usually carried in the top of his trousers and I flinched involuntarily at the action. “Don’t worry, I’m not expecting you to do anything crazy, we’re just gonna try a pistol. I want you to try holding it first, you’ll realise there’s nothing to be afraid of.” He instructed and I tried to contain my nerves. “Before we do that, I’m gonna tell you the first rule, only put your finger inside the trigger guard when you are ready to fire, alright? For now, just take the trip and get a feel for it.” He detailed as he gently placed the firearm in my hands and I felt myself shake slightly. It felt as if I was holding a bomb and I peeked at him with insecurity. “ Not so scary, right?” He asked hopefully and I simply stared back with wide eyes. “The safety is on so it won't go off, you can breathe.” He added with a smile and I had to remind myself to let a breath out.I held the pistol for a few moments, trying to steady my heartbeat and allowing myself to adjust to the idea. 

“Okay, what’s next?” I asked nervously in a failed effort to force some confidence and he smiled back.

“Alright, let’s get you ready to shoot.” He confirmed and I felt my stomach flip at the casual way that he said this. “Don’t worry, I’ll help you. You’re not always going to have time to get into a proper stance, but we’ll do that today to give you a chance to get used to it. So, put your dominant leg forward, and lean forward just slightly.” He demonstrated and I mirrored him with a growing nausea. “Hold the gun up in front of you, your shooting arm should be fully extended and locked in place, and then this arm is bent holding here.” He showed me how to move my arms and I tried to do the same but my building nerves caused me to struggle with understanding what he wanted. He smiled at me as he noticed that I was still petrified and he stepped behind me to adjust my arms into the correct position. Although I appreciated the additional support, his proximity to me only caused further distraction. 

“Here, you need to lean a little more.” He put a hand to my waist in a gentle movement and guided me into the right position by bringing his chest to my back. I felt my face flush in response, but he seemed to be completely focused on the task at hand. “Right, here is the safety.” He stated as he moved closer so that his arms were around me to put his hand over mine and show me how to use the safety. As he did this, I realised that his body was completely pressed against mine and when he spoke his hot breath brushed my neck, causing my hair to stand up on end. He flicked the safety off and showed me how to tell it was off. “Now, you’re ready to shoot.” He announced and I felt my stomach flip.

“I’m scared.” I whispered, finally admitting how I felt.

“You don’t need to be. I’m right here; this is my gun. You don’t think I’d give you something dangerous, do you?” He asked, his breath tickling my ear. I considered his words carefully, remembering all the times that he’d protected me already. If I couldn’t trust myself with this gun, I could instead rely on my trust for Bellamy to keep me safe. I took a deep breath and squeezed the trigger in a braced position. The gun fired, causing a loud bang that startled me and the impact of the recoil threw me back. 

“Shit!” I screamed as I lost my grip on the weapon. Fortunately Bellamy caught it in midair and it was clear that he expected it. As soon as the gun was out of my hands, I turned to face him with an apologetic expression. “I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have dropped it, that’s so dangerous!” I gasped. He chuckled lightly and smiled at me. 

“It’s fine Indie, that’s perfectly normal if you’re nervous. How do you feel now?” He checked and I felt my hands shaking from the rush of adrenaline.

“That was terrifying.” I breathed with honesty. “I didn’t expect it to push me back like that.” I admitted.

“Even pistols have a recoil, it’s one of the challenges to learning to aim. Now that you’ve got your first shot out of the way, are you ready to learn to actually hit something?” He asked and although I was hesitant, I forced myself back into position and allowed him to set me up again. He explained where the aim was and how to use it, then helped to prepare me on how to deal with the recoil. I was amazed at his patience, as he continued to allow me as many attempts as I needed to completely miss every target. I started to expect that he was partly taking advantage of the excuse to hold me to him, but I quickly forced this thought from the mind. After several attempts I began to get frustrated. 

“God I suck at this!” I blurted out and he laughed. “I’m sorry Bellamy, I just can’t imagine actually shooting someone. I don’t know if I’d be able to trust myself to not hit someone else.” I groaned in disappointment and he hummed thoughtfully before speaking again.

“When it comes to guns, only ever point a gun at something you are willing to kill. I know that right now you’re thinking that isn’t necessary but let me help you.” He leaned in close and moved my arms to aim at an empty container. “Imagine that target is a man holding a knife to Octavia.” He spoke in a deep, threatening tone and I felt myself blanch at his suggestion.

I took a deep breath and closed my eyes. If someone was threatening Octavia and I had the chance to get in close enough to attack them, I knew that I would stab them without even considering it. There was something about using a gun that felt more lethal, more final. But Bellamy was right, there would be times that I wouldn’t be able to get up close and the risk would be high enough that I’d be forced to act. I opened my eyes and stared at the target, forming an elaborate vision in my mind. I focused on it, staring down the aim as he’d taught me to do and let out a slow, long breath before squeezing the trigger. This time when it fired, I was prepared for the feeling and held my stance firmly. The bullet launched the container from the stump and I gasped in shock.

“Damn Indie, you’re a better shot than me!” Bellamy laughed in disbelief. “They should’ve asked you to shoot the Chancellor.” He teased and I laughed back.

We spent the rest of the afternoon practising shooting and Bellamy taught me the essentials, like how to change the magazine and how to maintain the gun. When it started to get dark, he handed me the gun and moved to start towards camp. 

“Hey, this is yours, don’t you want it back?” I asked as I followed him.

“You can have it, there’s plenty back at camp. Like I said, you know I wouldn’t give you anything dangerous, maybe that’ll make it easier to get used to?” He smiled and I tucked the gun into my trousers awkwardly.

“Okay, thanks.” I breathed, surprised by the well considered gesture. “How did you come to know so much about guns?” I asked with interest.

“I was a guard once.” He answered and I nodded as I remembered that he did mention his time as a guard before when he told me about Octavia’s arrest. “They use the shock batons mostly, but they make sure to train every guard to use guns, just in case.” He explained and I was surprised by this information. 

“Well it’s a good thing that you had that experience with them then.” I commented thoughtfully and he surveyed me in confusion. “Now you can train us, I doubt anyone else here would've had a clue what they were doing otherwise. Silver lining, right?” I smiled and he was pleased with this realisation. 

❖ ── ✦ ──『✙』── ✦ ── ❖

The next few days were a blur of gun training for everyone and it had a particular focus on those who would be guarding the camp learning to use the larger weapons. I didn’t see much of Octavia, who seemed to be continually busy and so I kept myself occupied with tasks. I rose from the tent in the morning to find a small group gathered around the comms screen, listening to the Chancellor give a speech. I moved just close enough to hear some of what he was saying and gathered that they were celebrating Unity Day. I rolled my eyes at the crowd that had opted to join in, disappointed that anyone was still upholding Ark traditions when we were finally out of their reach. I was about to return to my tent when a loud steaming followed by Jasper’s excited cries drew my attention. He emerged from the tent carrying a huge pot that poured steam violently. 

“Whoo! Yeah! Monty strikes again!” He announced and I laughed at the sight of him in the goggles he’d been wearing the day that we arrived. “Hey, call this batch unity juice! Who’s thirsty?!” He slid the goggles up into his hair and ran into the centre of camp, immediately becoming surrounded. I watched with an amused smile as people gathered with genuine joy. Jasper occupied himself with filling cups as people clambered for some of the moonshine and even the people on guard duty put their guns aside to join the celebrations. “Happy Unity Day!” He announced dramatically. I groaned at the celebrations and instead passed Jasper to head into Monty’s brewing tent. Monty was filthy and surrounded by ingredients. 

“Hey, you’re not hiding from Unity Day alone in here are you?” I asked playfully as he wiped the sweat from his brow and noticed me with a smile.

“Is it that obvious?” He quipped back and I was glad to find him in good spirits. 

“Come on, you can’t just make the whole camp happy and not be out there to enjoy the praise.” I declared in an effort to tempt him outside as he busied himself with clearing up the mess that covered the entire space. “You can come hang with me, we’ll start an anti Unity Day corner.” I suggested with a coy smile.

“Sounds good to me. You find a spot to get started and I’ll be right out.” He agreed with a keen voice and I made my way back outside. I found a small collection of seats and dropped myself down in a boyish fashion. It wasn’t long before Jasper approached with an excited bounce to his step and tried to hand me a fresh cup of moonshine. 

“No thanks, I don’t drink.” I answered as I pushed it away with a smile. He made an overdramatic display of disbelief, falling backwards into a seat opposite me. 

“Wait, what did you just say? I can’t have heard you correctly!” He exclaimed with a hand to his chest and I laughed.

“I’ve seen how it makes people act and I’m quite happy not to humiliate myself.” I winked at him, remembering his declarations to Octavia when under the influence of the nuts. Although I wasn’t particularly against drinking on the whole, I didn’t feel that it was the right environment for me to indulge in the experience for the first time. There were numerous ways that it could go wrong in a camp filled with drunk teenagers and I shivered at the idea of doing something I would later regret.

“But it’s Unity Day? How else are going to celebrate our first and last ever free Unity Day if not by making an idiot of yourself?”  He teased, still speaking in a false manner of offense and I sniggered at his dedication to trying to convince me.

“Haven’t you heard? This is the anti Unity Day corner.” Monty announced as he stomped over to us with a smile. “But I will take some of that, thank you.” He grabbed the cup that Jasper had offered me and made himself comfortable in the seat beside mine.

“Oh now I understand, that is how you got him out of his den.” Jasper connected, looking between the two of us. “How did you know that was his thing?” He probed and I raised a brow at him,

“I actually didn’t.” I admitted, inspecting Monty in surprise. “I was just kidding with him since I hate it. Well, not so much Unity Day itself, but basically the Ark and all it’s associated traditions.” I struggled to convey my thoughts without simply coming across as bitter and Jasper widened his eyes with interest.

“Woah Indie, that’s intense.” He breathed as he shuffled. “But not unjustified.” He shrugged and learned back in his seat. “Still, you might as well enjoy today, in a couple of days the Ark and all its associated crap will be here.” He suggested, before sipping at the moonshine poignantly. “You might even want to experience getting a little wild before the moonshine becomes outlawed again.” He winked and I grimaced, shaking my head at him. 

I spent the rest of the day hanging out with Jasper and Monty only to be joined by several others as everyone mixed and took the time to get to know each other a little better. The broadcast from the Ark cut out just after the Chancellor’s speech and I was pleased to see that no one was particularly interested in re-establishing it. Although I wasn’t overly interested in making friends, I enjoyed getting to know a few more members of camp; it helped it to feel more like a home. I didn’t see Octavia all day and I considered that she was probably enjoying alone time with some helpless camper.

As it grew dark, I took time to wander around and spotted Bellamy standing at the edge of camp speaking to Clarke. I caught the tail end of their conversation as I neared them and Clarke appeared to be leaving.

“I’ll have my fun when the grounders come.” Bellamy smiled at Clarke as she stopped and turned back to face him again.

“Alright.” She conceded as she turned to leave fully this time. I raised my brows at him inquisitively  and he smiled as he noticed me. 

“Bellamy Blake turning down the opportunity to party? Surely that can’t be right?” I teased as I stepped closer, enjoying the chance to mock him and he laughed in response.

“Somebody has to keep an eye on things.” He smiled fondly at me as he spoke and I felt a warmth in my chest. 

“And somebody can, but if you’re asking me, you deserve some time off.” I replied as I held his sparkling gaze. “Tell me you at least got some of Monty’s Moonshine?” I grilled and he shook his head in an entertained manner. “Let me grab you a cup, it’s soon to be contraband don’t you know?” I offered with a playful smile as I tried to tempt him into some down time. He glimpsed me with a suspicious look and stepped closer into my space. 

“That almost sounds like you’re trying to get me drunk, Indigo?” He suggested as he fixed me with a shameless smile. 

“I mean, I certainly wouldn’t mind seeing that.” I winked with a hint of sass in my voice. “I’m very intrigued to see what kind of drunk you are.” I studied him with coy interest. I couldn’t imagine Bellamy not in control, although from the rumours I’d heard of his partying so far, he was rather bold.

“Well I’m afraid I can’t answer that for you, so you’ll have to wait for a time when we can find out.” He admitted with a slight pang of bitterness and I was surprised by his confession.

“Wait, you’re telling me that you’re the only real adult here and you’ve never been drunk?” I asked in implied shock causing him to chuckle and shake his head. “Well, now we really have to prioritise getting you a drink.” I suggested and he still declined. I sipped from my cup as I considered his words and tried to think of another way to tempt him away from guard duty. He bit his lip as he watched me and his voice dropped to a suggestive tone. 

“Sounds to me like you’re a pushy drunk.” He pointed to the mug in my hands and I almost choked in an effort to get my words out quickly enough. 

“It’s just tea actually, Monty fixed it up for me after I mentioned that I missed it. It’s handy having someone so into herbs around.” I clarified and he laughed in response.

“So you’re not even drinking yourself?” He questioned with amusement dancing in his eyes. I found myself getting lost in them as they glowed in the distant firelight and I had to force myself back into the moment. I shook my head guiltily. 

“I don’t drink, I like to be in control.” I answered honestly, before my eyes widened at the connotations of my words. Inwardly I kicked myself for saying something so suggestive and I felt a knot of dread as I waited for his response.

“I’m sure you do.” He drawled causing all of the hairs to stand up on the back of my neck at his tone. I stood awkwardly in silence for a minute, sipping at my tea as I tried to think of something to change the topic. “Have you seen Octavia today?” He asked in an effort to fill the silence.

“No, but honestly...in situations that revolve around horny teenagers and alcohol, I don’t consider it a bad thing to not know what your best friend is up to.” I replied and he shrugged in agreement, shaking his head in an effort to force out whatever thought I’d just planted. “So, are you gonna come and take a break for a bit, or are you staying on the perimeter like a workaholic?” I asked, jabbing him playfully in the arm. He sighed thoughtfully as he scrutinised me. 

“Maybe later.” He conceded and I smiled. “You’ll be the first to know if I do. Now go have some fun.” He insisted and I smiled as I hesitantly left him to his guard duty. 

[gyllenhaalics]

Pygmalion

This is for the lovely and inspiring @jakegyllenhaalsupportgroup​ (a.k.a @ijustreallylovezebras​)’s Crisis Writing Challenge

The prompt was: “I loved her against reason, against promise, against peace,  against hope, against happiness, against all discouragement that could be.” - Great Expectations by Charles Dickens

A/N: I registered under my main natdoesthings

Warning: This is trippy af. It's loosely based on the story of Pygmalion and Galatea. Don't worry, no drug is involved, Jake just decides to trip his balls reading a script.

Pairing: Jake Gyllenhaal x imaginary lover

Summary: If her eyes were beautiful, she didn't have the right nose or the right lips. If she had an ideal body shape, her voice was off by ten miles. If he found nothing to complain about her appearance, then her acting was atrocious. And when she succeeded in capturing the essence of the role? He saw nothing but a blasphemous mockery of HER image.

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters. This is purely fictional.

Word count: 1200+

Tag: @realovesthings​ (it’s not smut, but definitely caffeinated)

"Jake, you have to make up your mind."

"About?"

The director pinches the creases between his eyebrows and lets out a long sigh. He lays down a list of names in front of the actor. These are the actresses who have auditioned for the leading female role. Jake takes a look through the names and the written notes next to them. Many of the names are unfamiliar, but some stand out. Either they are famous in the industry, or he has worked with them before.

"I think I've made myself clear about this."

Jake tries to be as polite as possible, but he almost can't hide his displeasure. None of these women fits the role. The director starts to regret letting him take part in the casting process. But since the actor is also the EP who single-handedly finances this whole production, he couldn't say no to Jake's request.

"Jake, I'm going to be blunt. You're being difficult."

"No, I'm being thorough. You know how important this project is to me."

Jake stands up from his chair and takes long strides outside. He needs to get some fresh air. He finds himself just as annoyed and frustrated as the other man. The actor buries his face into his hands. He exhales, trying to relieve the stress.

Jake knows it's unfair of him to reject everyone like the way he did. Some of the auditions were genuinely great, but none feels right for him. There is always something amiss. If her eyes were beautiful, she didn't have the right nose or the right lips. If she had an ideal body shape, her voice was off by ten miles. If he found nothing to complain about her appearance, then her acting was atrocious. And when she succeeded in capturing the essence of the role? He saw nothing but a blasphemous mockery of HER image.

...

Her.

His eyes strain on the actress in front of him, trying to take in everything. He can hear her voice, but he cannot pay attention to the words. The resemblance is too striking. Her face, even down to the imperfections, looks like it has been carved out from the script. Her voice seeps into his mind like the sweetest nectar, exactly how he has imagined it. And her body. God, what he wouldn't give to hold her in his arms, to feel the warmth of her body against his.

After finishing her line, the actress turns her head and meets his intense gaze. Jake swallows his guilt. He feels like he has defiled her with the way he looks at her, but she doesn't look like she was offended. And then she smiles at him. A jolt of shock runs down Jake's spine.

...

Jake springs from his bed. His shirt is damp, his ears are ringing, and there is a terrible thumping in his chest. The script slightly crumples under the weight of this hand. He must have fallen asleep reading it last night.

"You feeling alright?"

The actor quietly shakes his head. The director pats Jake on his slouching back. He has agreed to reassess some of the auditions in the hope of finding something. Jake has no clue what he wants to find, but he's even more miserable than before.

That night wasn't the only time she appears. Since then, she has frequently come to him in his dream. Sometimes she is a nobody actress auditioning for the role. Sometimes he sees them both on the set talking to each other, though he can never remember what she says. But the worst ones are the nightmares of him sitting alone in the dark auditorium, watching her on the silver screen. Her images fill his vision as she wraps her arms around "him", and "Jake" has her in his embrace as well.

"I understand, I do. But don't let this get to your head, Jake."

He knows what his colleague is going to say next. Jake shuts his eyes as if that would also block the words out of his mind. He doesn't want to hear it. He doesn't want to accept it, even though he knows how irrational it may be.

"She isn't real, Jake. She's just a..."

"I love her."

If it has gotten to this point, he doesn't care anymore. It was a bad idea to confide his feelings to the director. He soon understood nobody could understand. How can they? It is too bizarre to claim he is in love with a fictional character. Even Jake knows that, but he cannot stop loving her, cannot stop yearning for her. And every day, he has to wake up with the realization that she doesn't exist. That is the true nightmare.

"That makes no fucking sense."

The other man scoffed as he pushes a glass of brow liquid toward Jake. How does anyone expect him to respond to that?

"I loved her against reason."

Jake mumbles, hiding his face on the bar table. The rest of his words is unintelligible.

"Excuse me? Was that Charles Dickens?"

Jake doesn't respond. He has finally lost it. The director thinks to himself as he downs the whole shot of whiskey, then proceeds to pour himself another. This project will most likely get scraped if they cannot agree on the leading actress. And while he has a few names in mind, it's useless if Jake refuses to work with her.

"Hey, why did you write her that way?"

It takes a moment for the director to register that Jake was talking about the script.

"I thought I told you already, did you forget? I didn't write it."

Jake lifts his face. It seems he did forget about something like that. The director never repeated that piece of information because he didn't think anyone would care. After all, it's not like they're stealing from anyone, they're still going to give the writer proper credit.

"A friend of mine wrote it. I read the script and immediately thought of you, it's like it was written with you in mind, Jake. So I made an offer and told her I would try to get you onboard."

"And?"

"She was thrilled, but when I asked her to come here. She declined."

Just when the director is about to take another sip of whiskey, Jake grabs his shoulders. The actor starts bombarding him with questions. Half of those questions may have been too private for him to answer. He may have told Jake that she is currently in this city to work on another of her projects. And he may also have blurted out she's renting his apartment. Jake rushes out of the bar, grabs his coat, and stumbles a few times on the way.

He finds himself standing across the street, looking at a moderately sized apartment building. He kind of regrets now. For all he knows, this has only been a hazy daydream for him. What if she looks nothing like the woman from his dream, which is most likely the case? Maybe he has had one too many drinks. Maybe he should go now before someone thinks he's a stalker.

As Jake moves his feet, planning on leaving, he hears a burst of familiar laughter coming from the other side of the road. He frantically looks for the source of it, and there he finds her. She is greeting the doorman, her back facing him. He can only see the outline of her cheeks and jawline, and the body frame that's well hidden underneath a thick winter coat.

But that's enough.

[angstarella]

(for you) i will try // Harry Styles Fic Exchange Short Story

A ex-lovers reunion ou where ex’s are ex’s for a reason, weddings are near-on soul destroying and Harry and Indigo together are just a massive cause for disaster ~ 17k

trigger warning: cheating, toxic relationships and alcohol abuse described. 

Indigo never predicted she’d be in this predicament – that her entire life could be flipped around in a measly 48 hours.

She never thought she would doubt everything about herself but now she did.

She never thought her career took precedence over her relationship.

She never thought that she would catch her girlfriend of two years cheating on her in their bed.

She never thought betrayal could cause this much pain.

And what may have topped it all, Indi never thought in a million years that she would agree to help Jack and his now–fiancé plan their surprise wedding for them with none other than Gemma’s little pop star of a brother  – who was a whole different subject of issues.

All Indigo knew was that she needed a drink and a cigarette – immediately.

i. let’s have a (surprise) wedding

It wasn’t the fact that social gatherings bothered me that put me off being here. It was the fact that it was the first time six years I had been back home. The whole village of Holmes Chapel seemed to be here in Mr and Mrs Twist’s house and all they wanted to know was when I would move back and settle down with a man and have kids with him. It was miserable enough to have those expectations put on you by your own parents, let alone the whole village. 

It’s also something nice to hear when you’ve just been dumped by your girlfriend (...well, ex-girlfriend, I suppose) two days ago. I craved nothing more than to rifle through my bag and pull out a pack of Malboro Gold, light up and inhale the ever-calming smoke that put my anxiety to ease. The e-cigarette I bought twenty minutes before leaving London would have to do. There was no way I was going to give my mother another reason to be on my case. Being a bisexual millennial was enough to make my mother to sprout grey hairs. I didn’t need to add being a closeted smoker to her stress list. The best I could do was a flimsy version of a healthy cigarette to keep my nicotine addiction at bay. 

The fiery orange skyline settled down into it’s dark violet dusk as I sneaked out to the veranda overlooking the back garden; trying my best to get a moment's peace from the party inside. Strawberry vapour filled my lungs as I dragged from the sleek black pen, wishing nothing more than to smoke whatever the hell I wanted back at my apartment in London. 

“I see you still haven’t quit smoking.” 

My body tensed as I felt his presence saunter closer. His sweet yet spicy smell seemed to overtake the lasting lingers of vapour. It was infuriating how it hadn’t changed since the last time I had seen him; almost like he wore it purposely just to piss me off. 

“Mind you,” He finally stopped by my side as I ignored him, looking out as far as I could see. “I suppose this is the healthier alternative.”

Rather than the sickly sweet vapour that had filled my lungs just moments before, annoyance replenished every fibre in my body. It was only something that he could do and he absolutely knew it. He was the only person in this entire universe that could flick this switch inside of me and he had great pleasure in doing so whenever he could get the chance. 

“Harry Styles. What a surprise.” 

“Really?” Harry chuckled as he turned, leaning against the wooden rail of the veranda and staring at no other than me. “You’re surprised to see me at my Mum’s house, at my sister’s birthday party.”

My silence spoke volumes. 

“If anything, it should me surprised to see you here. It’s been like, what – four years since you’ve been back here in Holmes Ch–”

“I didn't realise you kept count of my comings and goings Harry.” 

My eyes finally met his. Since the last time I had seen them in person three years ago, they had only grown into a richer forest green which knocked the wind out of me. His hair still held those chocolate curls that I ran my fingers through so many times before, it was impossible to keep count. I felt sick that these memories flashed back into my body in such a quick moment. Anxiety pulsated through my veins to the point where my fingertips were on fire. 

“Indigo Palmer,” Harry’s eyebrow arched upwards in smugness. “There’s no way I can’t help but keep my eyes on you and wherever you go.”

“Ugh, Harry!” I groaned. “You can’t just say that to me. Not anymore.” 

Harry’s eyes dropped mine own, slipping down to where his scuffed up boots crossed together. “You’re right.” His lips rolled inwards for a second, his shoulder jerking slightly. “Sorry.” 

The noise of Gemma’s party quietly bounded outside of Harry’s parents house, all while the back veranda offered us the mere silence of our breathing. It was something we had done many times before. Through all of these years that we had known each other, we could talk endlessly about everything and on the other hand, say nothing and appreciate what we had and what we had around us. Now, everything about him hurt me. 

“So where is Emily? I thought she would of been here.” Harry lifted his hand to scratch at the nape of his neck, a nervous tick he had ever since we were children. My throat instantly tightened as soon as I heard her name leave his lips. It was two parts of my world that I did not want to mix ever again. 

“W–we, uh… She…” My voice fumbled, trying to grasp at any sentence that would make what trying trying to say sound the tiniest bit better. 

“We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh,” Silence thumped in my ear drums. I watched as Harry’s eyebrows furrowed down, frown lines denting his smooth olive skin. 

“Sorry to hear that. What happened?” 

As hard as I fought, my eyes found themselves rolling at his ridiculous question. Who the hell did he think he was? My therapist? But as soon as Harry saw them roll, his eyes seemed to follow my lead and rolled back while he shook his head. 

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what’s gone on but it looks like you need to talk to someone.” Harry shrugged. 

“And that someone should be you? Just like old times then, yeah?” I scoffed maliciously. 

The wind rustled against the leaves as Harry thought for a second or two, before shrugging his shoulders once more.

“Well, yeah. Why not talk to me? You always used to talk to me.”

Inhaling deeply, I looked him once more dead in the eye. I hated doing that because all I saw was trust and love every time I lost myself in those eyes of his. That’s why I hadn’t looked him in the eye the last time I saw him and it was all it took for me to break down.

“S–she, uh… She thought I spent too much time at work and focusing on being an associate at the firm I’m currently at. Apparently that qualifies her to… cheat on me I suppose.”

“Fuck,” Harry whispered so quietly, I almost never heard him. “That’s so shit, Dig. I’m really sorry she did that to you.” 

Tears welled in my eyes while guilt instantly poured in my lungs. I had felt this three years ago but it still felt fresh –  a old wound reopened. I suppose I deserved it. I finally got my karma. I looked up to the sky where the stars were beginning to peak from the night sky, blinking as hard as I could to get rid of them. 

“Y–yeah, it only happened a few days ago.” I sniffed. “So if you can like– not tell anyone? That would be great. Mum’s already on my case and I just don’t have the energy to deal with this situation, let alone have her meddle in it.” 

Harry’s head nodded profusely. “Yep, sure. You got it. No problem at all. In fact, consider this–”

Before Harry could continue his rambunctious rambling, the door behind me creaked open. Instantly turning around, I watched as Jack and Gemma stumbled out of the house giddily; not realising that their younger siblings were also catching a moments peace on the back veranda until Harry coughed aloud. 

“Oh! Here’s where you two have been hiding.” Gemma clapped her hands together. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Turning around, I leaned against the rail beside Harry trying my hardest to discreetly slip my hand that held the e-cigarette behind his back. Thankfully Harry had caught on and shuffled forward slightly so I could do so. 

“Well, you found us!” The weight of Harry’s arm suddenly dropped onto my shoulders, pulling me closer into his side. “What’s going on?”

Jack pulled one of the chairs that sat by the back door, scraping its legs against the outdoor tile before plonking his arse in it. 

“Need to talk to ya about the wedding.” Jack drunkenly mumbled as he pulled a giggly Gemma down to sit in his lap. 

“What wedding?” 

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I looked at Harry to see if he knew what in the world my brother was talking about but he looked just as confused as I did. 

“Our wedding.” Jack shrugged, wrapping his arms around Gemma’s waist. “Mine and Gem’s. You’d both know that if you were inside five minutes ago.”

With a wide grin, Gemma held out her hand that had a small but sparkly diamond on her ring finger that shimmered despite the lack of light. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s gorgeous Gem.” A shocked smile grew on my face. 

I hated how miserable I felt. I should have been ecstatic that my brother and his long-time girlfriend were finally getting married. I put on a mask and played my part despite feeling like I was rotting from the inside out. 

“Congratulations you two.” 

“Yeah, Congrats.” Harry beamed, shaking Jack’s hand before leaning over and kissing Gemma’s cheek. “It’s about bloody time!” 

“Yeah, yeah. We’re getting there.” Jack grinned. “Anyways, we came to talk to you about the wedding.” 

“We want to have a surprise wedding!” Gemma jumped in, her grin reaching from ear to ear. 

“Uh,” my eyebrows furrowed. “I’m a bit confused. How do you expect to have a surprise wedding when you’ve just told everyone in that house you’re getting married?”

“Well, that’s kinda where you two come in.” Gemma began to explain. “We’re wanting to throw a party in a month’s time and while everyone else will be thinking it’s an engagement party, we will surprise them with it being the actual wedding ceremony!” 

Before Harry and I could object (or say anything really), Jack piped up. “What Gem’s trying to ask is if you’ll plan our wedding for us.”

‘We’ll pay you for your time and effort!” Gemma assured us. “It’s just, some of the best times we’ve had with each other have been at some of those parties you used to throw back when you two were together.”

“And honestly, if it weren’t for the two of you, Gem and I probably wouldn’t be together. There’s no one else that we trust more than you two to do this.” Jack shrugged as Gemma looked at us with hope beaming from her eyes, making me feel worse by the second. 

I took one look at Harry who looked just as unsure as I felt but I knew him. I knew he would do anything for them and while I would have like to say I would too, I wasn’t entirely sure I could. 

Harry looked down for a second before looking at me, searching for an answer I wasn’t sure I could give. As soon as the corner of his mouth pulled up, revealing a small smile that would be a true smile truly for the first time in 48 hours, I knew what his answer would be… what our answer will be.

“Sure. We’ll plan your wedding.” 

ii. let’s get a game plan together

It was a rare occasion for the sun to be out in London, so it was fair to say that I was making the most of it. Actually, a lot of people were. I sipped at my coffee as I sat outside of the nearly full café, watching people bustle by. My legs rarely felt the instant warmth of the sun and god was I loving it. It would have been great, if Harry Styles actually was on time for once. 

After learning about Jack and Gemma’s plans for their wedding which they were basically leaving Harry and I in control of, Harry and I had made a plan to meet a week later and get this underway. We only had a month to make this miracle happen for our siblings after all. 

Despite the street being filled with people, I instantly spotted Harry’s chocolate curls bounding towards me. If it wasn’t for the tiny blonde child in his arms, I swear I could have murdered Harry on the spot. 

“You’re late.” 

“Really?” Harry exasperated sarcastically. He somehow pulled the chair out from underneath the table with his foot, all while shooting me a very unimpressed look. “Nothing about the kid in my arms isn’t giving you any clue as to why I might be late?” 

“Nope.” I shrugged. “Absolutely none.”

The small girl giggled as Harry lowered her into the seat across from me, his nose instantly following the noise. 

“Alright, enough out of you cheeky-monkey.” His palm flattened her wispy strays of blonde hair  “What would you like to eat, huh?” She bit down lightly on her bottom lip, her wee eyebrows furrowing as she grew deep in thought. 

“A muffin please.”

“A muffin? A fruity one?”

“Yes, A muffin. I’ll pass on the fruity though.” The blonde girl nodded decidedly. “Chocolate will do.”

That sentence alone caused Harry to belt out a full-bodied laugh, to the point where his head tilted back, eyes shut closed with little crow's feet rippling on the outer sides and his palm grasping at his protruding belly. If people weren’t looking at Harry Styles before, they certainly were now. 

As Harry got over his laughing fit, wiping away y few stray tears that had rolled down his cheeks, he looked down once more at the girl. 

“You be good for Dig, okay? I’ll be back in a few.”

The curve of her ponytail bounced as she nodded profusely before Harry made his way into the cafè, ignoring all of the stunned looks others were giving him. I could only shake my head at him, trying my hardest to hold back the scowl that was threatening to appear. If it wasn’t for the kid staring wide eyed at me, I might have just let it appear. 

“So who might you be?” The little blonde thing grinned at me, two of her upper teeth and one on the bottom clearly missing from her smile. 

“I’m Lux!” 

“Oh.” I hadn’t been expecting that. 

The last time I had seen Lux, she had only just been a baby; Fast on her feet and hiding away from Harry and I any chance she got. The only reason the memory had stuck with me for this long was because Harry and I had literally lost her in the house for a solid hour and a half. 

It was one of the most frightening moments of my life. Here Harry and I were, naïve adults who thought they could look after a baby for the night and we literally lost a child that was under our care. Thank god she hadn’t been taken or had let herself outside! She probably had been laughing at us the whole time as she hid behind the bookshelf in the living room.

“We’ve actually met before.” 

“We have?” Lux gasped.

I nodded before taking another sip of my coffee. “You were just a baby the last time I saw you.” 

“That’s cool!” She threw me another grin. “Are you Uncle Harry’s friend?”

My lips pursed into a small frown as my eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up in thought. 

“Uh… kind of?”

“Oh.” Lux looked down at her lap before snapping back up towards me. “So is your name really Dig?”

“Excuse me?” I frowned once more in confusion.

“Is your name Dig? Because that’s what Uncle Harry’s been calling you today. It’s a little strange if you ask me.”

Inhaling deeply, I rolled my eyes at Harry’s idiocy. Of course he couldn’t just call me by my name properly, could he?

“No. I think that’s just Harry trying to be funny.” That comment seemed to pull another giggle from Lux. 

“He’s not very funny, is he?”

“No, he isn’t.” I agreed, giggling quietly along with her. “He’s the type of person you end up laughing at because he thinks he’s hilarious.”

Lux burst out laughing, which pulled a small smile out of me. Before she could add anything else, a chocolate muffin on a porcelain plate was slid in front of Lux. Both Lux and I looked up to see Harry holding a very unimpressed look. 

“Excuse me Dig but for your information, I am hilarious.” Harry placed a glass on orange juice in front of Lux before sitting in the chair next to her. “You know that.”

“You are not Harry. You are the opposite of–”

“So what’s your name then?” Lux cut in before I could finish insulting him. I was actually taken aback by it. 

“Oh,” I stammered. “My name’s Indigo but most people call me Indi.” I couldn’t help but snare at Harry who just rolled his eyes at me. 

“That’s a really nice name.” Lux smiled at me before she promptly turned towards Harry with a frown. “Why don’t you call her by her name? It’s pretty.”

“Because I’ve called her Dig for most of my life. I’m not going to stop now just because you say so.” Harry said as he pulled out his phone from the front pocket of his hoodie. “Now play a game on this while me and Dig sort somethings out, yeah?”

Lux happily took the iPhone out of his hand and tapped away to her heart's content. 

“You got that email from Gem, yeah? The one about–”

“What they want for the wedding and what they’ve already got sorted?” I finished Harry’s sentence off, irritation slowly seeping in my veins. “Of course I did. They also asked me to help me plan their wedding, not just you Harry.”

“Woah!” Harry leaned back slightly, eyes wide open in shock. Lux wearily looked over the phone screen, her eyes flicking between Harry and I before focusing on the game she was playing.  “That’s not what I meant Dig.” 

I knew that wasn’t what he meant. Truly; but I couldn’t help but have my guard up around him. The situation we were in was nothing like we were in before and I couldn’t understand why he was acting like we were best friends again. He had to know I wasn’t in the best state of mind.

“That’s how it sounded.”

From one look, I knew he wanted to argue back. His lips slightly pursed in a small scowl and his nose scrunched to the left. Having knowing Harry for as I had, I instantly picked up on his tells and I could only pray for the sake of Lux and I that he just kept his mouth shut for once. 

I slipped my notebook out from my handbag that sat on the only free chair at this table, flipping immediately to the pages where I already jotted a few notes and ideas down since Gemma and Jack had asked us to perform a miracle. 

“I think since they’ve already emailed through their guest list, we should just get a start on a booking a venue.” Despite the frown still etched on his face, Harry nodded in agreement as a waitress placed a coffee in front of him and another cup in front of me. We both mumbled our thanks to the waitress before getting back to the subject at hand. 

“We could just have it at Mum’s and Robin’s. Don’t have to book anything in advance and no one will think there will be a wedding happening if they turn up there.” Harry commented after he had taken a sip of his black coffee. “Everyone will just think it’s a generic engagement party.” 

Harry’s nose twitched when I sighed aloud. “They want our parents to be surprised as well H. The moment a set-up crew and catering turn up to your parents place, they’re suddenly in on the secret.” I shrugged. 

“And in my opinion, it’s probably a lot easier to book a venue that can cater for our needs and have everything all in one place than transport everything to your Mum’s and then take it all back. What do you think?” I left the ball in Harry’s court, trying my hardest to not make it seem like I was taking over as the project manager. We were doing this as a team. 

Harry sat there for a few moments before nodding to himself. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It was a right pain in the arse waiting on others to bring stuff to us and then wait for them to take it away.” 

A wave of relief overcame me when he had agreed with my suggestion. This whole wedding planning business wasn’t going to be an easy ride in the park but at least I could see he was trying too. 

“So where do you think we should go?” I asked Harry, ready to write down a list of venues to check out. 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip as he thought, a few silent minutes passing by. “I don’t think we should go with venues like Crewe Hall or Colshaw Hall. Seems a bit obvious to have a surprise wedding somewhere like that innit’?”

“Yeah,” I nodded in agreement. “You’re right.” 

“What about somewhere like Oak Tree of Peover? I went to Jamie-lee’s wedding there last August and it’s was pretty but not like – overwhelming y’know? It was very low-key.” Harry suggested as he stole a bit off of Lux’s barely touched muffin. 

“That’s a really good idea, H…” I said, quickly noting down The Oak Tree of Peover as a venue option. 

From memory, I remember it being a lovely venue for a wedding. The Oak-framed barn made it one of the most gorgeous treasures that Cheshire had to offer, overlooking the picturesque countryside that captured our little hometown perfectly. Ideas began popping off in my head, immediately spurring more venues around Holmes Chapel. 

“We should probably go do some research on more venues and shortlist the ones we like.” I suggested as I finished writing down the last venue idea I had. Harry nodded before taking a sip of his coffee. “And maybe go to HC next weekend and check out the venues we shortlist?”

“Cool,” I picked up my phone, immediately opening the trainline app to book a ticket back home. “Do you want me to book you a train ticket?”

“Uh, no thank you.” Harry shook his head. “I was thinking you and I could carpool up there.  Y’know, since we're both going to the same place to do the same thing.”

“I suppose that make sense. Ooooh! We can go to Dad’s and do the invitations to.” The pen dropped loudly onto my notebook, causing Lux to look up from Harry’s phone. “He’ll have everything we need to do it!”

“Can’t we just get them printed like normal people?” Harry groaned. “We’re already short on time as it is?”

“What’s the point of having a Dad that owns his own art supply store? He’ll love having you around.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question Dig.” Harry quipped. My shoulders dropped in disappointment. This wasn’t like him. Normally he would be all over this type of stuff. It used to be me that protested in time-wasting.

“Oh come on Harry! Dad will be thrilled! His daughter visiting him twice in the same month except with his most favourite ex of mine! He’ll love it! And he can help! Pleeeease H?” 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, deep in thought with doubt written all over his face. 

“Look, I’m not budging on the handmade invitations. It’s something I want to do to make this wedding special. But if you don’t want to do that, that’s fine too. I’ll do them myself and you can research into some photographers and DJ’s maybe?” A sigh escaped from me. “Seems more down your alley anyways.” 

“Okay then. Sounds good.” Harry just shrugged his shoulders, slowly annoying me. It was like he almost didn't give a shit. I mean, of course he cared about Jack and Gemma’s wedding but when it concerned me and doing my bit to help create this wedding, he just… couldn’t care. I didn’t think that it would affect me so much. 

“Harry…” I pleaded. “Please work with me here. I’m trying my best.”

“I know you are.”

iii. let's (try) start the invitations

If it wasn’t the sun peaking through my half-shut curtains waking me up from my deep slumber, it was the birds that were happily chirping away in the tree outside my bedroom. Well, my childhood bedroom at my Dad’s. There was no chance of any birds chirping outside my flat in London.I ached from head to toe.

My body felt stiff as I lay in the measly king-single bed. I could only really narrow it down to a few reasons why that might of been. 

I had a non-stop day in the office working on the McNealson case yesterday, trying my hardest to get everything done before focusing solely Jack and Gemma’s wedding; but I had to spend a further 3 hours and 45 minutes making awkward conversation with Harry. Also, the argument I had with Emily minutes before Harry knocked on the flat door didn’t help. 

As soon as I stepped into the flat yesterday, I could tell Emily wanted to have another argument. She sat on the couch with her legs crossed at the ankle, nursing a half-empty glass of red wine with a scowl on her face. Now while we still lived together technically, we really didn’t. Since the moment I got back from Gemma’s birthday party in HC, I had avoided the flat like the plague. I hadn’t found it within myself to kick her out of my flat and I couldn’t tell you why. There was something about our relationship that made me act like I was clinging on to a drowning boat, hoping that it would keep me or rather our relationship afloat… but it was the suitcase that had finally sunk it.

“Where are you going?” Emily snided as I pulled my suitcase out of the storage cupboard in the lounge. 

“Back to HC.” I mumbled quietly, my lungs concaving out of the pure pain they felt. 

“Running away again yeah?” From the corner of my eye, I could see her scoff before finishing the last of her wine. “Don’t know why I’m surprised. You always run away, even to a place you haven’t been back to in six years.” 

“I don’t know what you expect me to do Em.” I couldn’t help but snap back. “You’re the one who cheated on me, remember?”

“Of course I remember Indigo! You haven’t let me forget it since.” She drunkenly yelled back. “What I want to know is when you’re going to get over it!”

My jaw dropped in shock. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me the first time Indigo.” She slammed the wine glass back onto the coffee table. “When are we going to get back to normal? When are we going back to being Em and Indi?” 

I shook my head despite every part of me being stunned at what she was saying. “I’m not doing this now. I’ve got to pack before Harry gets here.”

This only sparked Emily’s fury. 

“Harry?!” She spat viciously. “As in Harry Styles?! Your pop star ex-boyfriend? That Harry?!”

“Jesus Christ Em.” My eyes bugged out at her outburst. “Why does that matter?”

“It matters because it’s him!” Emily nearly screamed. “He’s the only other person you’ve loved besides me, Indi! Can you honestly not see why I’m scared? You left him for me and now you’re just running back to him to spite me.”

“I am not Emily!”

“Yes you are!”

For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why Emily was nutting off at me, about Harry nonetheless. We were only carpooling. It just made sense to go there together. Besides, wasn’t she the one I caught cheating on me with another woman in our bed? Why was it all my fault? 

And then there was the knock on the flat door. Now it may well could have been Mrs Dowley from across the hall, ready to give us another growling for having an argument this late at night in which I totally agreed with, I had a feeling it might have been someone else that would have fueled Emily’s anger. 

It was obvious from the moment Harry knocked on the door that he had heard a decent part of our argument. I noticed his cheeks flushed red and was overall antsy about getting on the road from just his body language. Emily looked past me and just glared at him. Thankfully, I was that angry I didn’t even let him in the door. In fact, I left the empty suitcase sitting in the middle of the lounge. 

“You need to be gone by the time I get back on Monday, Em.” My mouth moved before I even realised I was speaking. “You and your stuff. I want it gone. I can’t deal with this anymore.” 

“I’m sorry, are you kicking me out of my own home?” Emily choked out, shock evident in the lack of breath she had. I don’t think she quite believed I’d be the one to kick her out. 

“My name is on the lease. You’re the one who cheated on me. This was my home before it was ours. You’re the one who’s got to go.” 

Silence was the only sound that could be heard. Tears threatened to burst over my inflamed cheeks. Harry stared on uncomfortably, trying to ignore what was happening in front of him. 

“If you’re that concerned about where you should stay, may I suggest you–“ 

“Just stop lawyer talking me Indi! Talk to me normally! We can work this out.” Emily pleaded. 

“I suggest you go to that slag whose face you were sitting on top of in our bed and ask if you can stay with her. Tell her that you ruined what was good here and now have nowhere else to go. But as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have to do anything for you anymore. I’m done. We’re done.”

Emily began to sob, tears rolling down her cheeks, begging me not to do this. As much as it hurt to see the girl that I had loved cry in front of me, the tiniest bit of relief made me feel like I could breathe again. 

“Jack is staying here for a few days while I’m away. You can leave your key with him. Don’t call me.” 

Before I could go back on the impulse decision I had just made, I slammed the door behind me, grabbed Harry’s wrist and began to drag him towards the elevator, mumbling a quick “Let’s go.” 

I probably pressed the elevator button six or seven times in a row, my fingers shaking as angry tears rolled down my cheeks. I just needed to get out of this building as soon as possible. I just couldn’t bare being in here any longer than I needed to.

“Hey, hey, hey…” 

Harry grabbed hold of my shaky hands, turning myself around to face him. His arm curled around the back of my head and suddenly my face was smothered in the confines of the crook of his neck, a place I used to consider a safety net years ago. 

“Shhh, you’re okay Dig. I promise.” 

It was like he knew exactly what I needed. I let out the deep breath I hadn’t realised what I had been holding. He had offered to go back into the flat and get some clothes for the weekend but I didn’t want him to face the wrath of Emily alone. Thankfully, I had left some spare clothes at Dad’s when I went up for Gemma’s birthday. 

In all honesty, I was thankful that Harry had turned up when he did. I’m not sure what I would have done if he hadn't. Everything about yesterday was just as traumatic if not more than when I caught Emily with another woman. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about it; about her; about the betrayal.

A loud bang from downstairs had broken my mental reliving of yesterday. Moments later, a hushed “Fuck!” could just be heard, causing me to forget my tragedy of a life for one second and bring the first genuine smile to my face in days. 

“Dad! I hope you’re making what I think you’re making!” If I knew my Dad as well as I did and from judging by all the racket coming from the kitchen, we were having his famous blueberry pancakes. Throwing the covers off, I made my way downstairs with a rumble in my stomach. 

“I’ve been craving these all week! I–” I immediately choked once I saw the mop of chocolate curls scarfing down a stack of my pancakes. Harry smirked as he felt my snarl from across the room. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Prinny! That’s no way to talk to a guest.” Dad gasped in shock, taking one look over his shoulder to look Harry, whose smug expression still hadn’t left his big head. “Especially a scrawny pop star one at that.”

“Oi! I’m not scrawny!” Harry protested. “I’ve been working out… a lot!” 

My eyes couldn’t help but roll backwards at the both of them. There was a time where Harry used to be afraid coming to my Dad’s house, purely because my Dad was overly protective of his only daughter and young Harry was shagging her; and now here they were. The chummiest of buddies. Unbelievable.

“Why are you here eating my pancakes?” Glaring at Harry, I took a seat next to him before snatching the fork out of his hand. “Don’t you have your own Mum to make you your own pancakes?”

“For your information Prinny,” Before I could stab the fork into the fluffy pancakes on his plate, Harry suddenly snatched the fork back. My nose twitched as I cringed at the horrible nickname leave Harry’s mouth. “My Mum’s in London for a girls weekend with Gem. That’s why Jack’s been booted to your flat. So I’ve come to eat your Dad’s pancakes instead.” 

“God, I wish you two wouldn’t call me that. You know I hate it.” 

“It’s a wonderful name!” Dad stated with certainty. He slid a plate of my very own pancakes in front of me, handing me a fork so I could also gain some sustenance. “I put a lot of thought into that name when you were born.”

“It’s not that hard to put Princess and Indi together Dad. Anyway, that isn’t the point. The point is that I am a 24 year old woman and I shouldn’t have to be ridiculed by that ridiculous nam–” I tried to argue but before I could continue, a fork full of pancake was rather rudely shoved into my mouth. 

Harry tried to hold back his laugh but I could see his cheeks twitching. “Shut up and eat your pancakes, yeah? Your Dad and I don’t have time for this nonsense. We’ve got invitations to make and party venues to look at.”

“I’ve got to agree with young Harry here Prinny.” Dad thought to add his opinion, all for Harry to grin ear to ear. “We’ve got to get down to the art shop before ten if you don’t want to be caught with Harry by Mrs Birchingham. Who knows what rumours she’ll spread around Holmes Chapel if she catches you two in the same shop.”

“Yeah Prinny, we can’t have that.” Harry chided, getting his kicks from agreeing with my Dad and more so by annoying me. I was just glad he had changed his attitude within the week since I saw him last and oddly, it was rather nice to be sitting here at my Dad’s with his company and my favourite pancakes. 

iv. let’s find a venue to party in

“So I got the photographer, videographer and DJ booking confirmation just before.” Harry said as he chewed through his burrito, barbeque sauce slowly dripping down from the corner of his mouth. My eyes rolled as I lifted my hand up to his mouth, wiping away the brown sauce that was irritating me. 

“Oh,” I wiped the excess sauce onto the side of Harry’s jeans, as we walked towards the church. “Who’d you get then?”

Harry stumbled over his own feet, bumping into me slightly as he tried to correct himself. “One of Gem’s friends works for a photography company in Manchester and her colleagues is going to do the photography and videography.”

“You sure Gemma’s friend won’t find out. They’re both really adamant about people not finding out the wedding.”

“Yes, Indigo. I’m sure.” Harry’s chest rose as he deeply inhaled, letting out possibly the loudest sigh anyone on earth had heard in its entirety. “Madeleine and Seth are going to the job as freelance photographers, so the actual job doesn’t go through the company. That way Francesca won’t find out about the wedding.” 

“That’s good. What about the DJ?”

Harry’s nose scrunched slightly as he thought. “Well, there’s this guy James that Nick is kind of mentoring with the whole DJ-ing thing. He actually did a really great job at Nick’s New Years party so I thought I’d ask him and he said he’s good to go for the 27th.” Harry shrugged. “And I figure since Nick is invited, he can help out if anything goes wrong.” 

My neck immediately snapped towards him. “Are you expecting things to go wrong with him? Why on earth would you hire him if you think he’ll do something wrong?” 

Harry’s eyes bulged out in astoundment. “Jesus Dig, I didn’t say that.” 

“Yes you did!” My voice grew higher in annoyance. “You said that Nick would be there if any–” 

“I said that Nick would be there to help out if anything god for bid goes wrong. It’s not a bad thing Dig. You need to calm down.” He huffed, taking another bite before storming off in front of me. I didn’t reach him until I got to the magnificent french doors that lead into the foyer, the door just slamming in my face as Harry walked through.

I walked in the moment the young blonde girl at the reception say “Oh my god! You’re Harry Styles!” You would think that by now people would be used to Harry popping his head up every now and again around Holmes Chapel, but for some reason there was always one twenty-something-year-old girl that would make the biggest deal of him being in his hometown.

I watched as his mouth instantly lifted into a smile but into one of those fake smiles to appease people from his true feelings. I could tell he felt uncomfortable all from the slightest movement of his nose twitching to the left. Years ago, he would used to tell me how he hated being recognized as Harry Styles from One Direction in his own hometown. In his head, he was just Harry; a normal chap with a not so normal job, returning home to see his family and friends. To have people make a big hullabaloo 

“We’re booked under the name Palmer to view the wedding ceremony and reception areas.” 

“Oh,” the young girl frowned instantly as I stood besides Harry. “Your getting married to her? I thought you were with Cami–” Her mouth couldn’t help direct at Harry with some disgust. She couldn’t have possibly known how close that reality could have come true. It hit me like a rock sinking to the dark depths of the ocean, except in my heart. 

“No,” Harry coughed uncomfortably, interrupting her before she could finish off saying his last girlfriend’s name. “We’re here to plan a surprise engagement party for our friends.”

“Is Evelyn here? We were booked in with her to show us around.” I tried my hardest to redirect us to what Harry and I were actually here to achieve today. 

“No sorry. She went home sick today. I can help you out today though. Follow me through here.”

She pointed her oddly creepy smile towards Harry, completely ignoring me as she opened the door behind her. “My names Charlotte, if you wanted to know.” 

Charlotte showed us around the grounds and the venue which seemed to be fine. It was a little country motel that would’ve needed an entire book out just to get the venues, but the set up on the riverbank made up for that. It was one of the things that had caught my eye when Harry and I began researching venues and unbelievably, Harry and I agreed that it completed the vision Gemma and Jack wanted for their special day. 

However, it was obvious that she had no care for why I was around. It was all about Mr Popstar himself. Now while she happily informed Harry that they could organise rain cover if needed for the ceremony and that they had an onsite vendors that we could use to execute our vision, the venue could not hold the number of guests that had already RSVP’d back, let alone the number of people who had been invited to the engagement party/surprise wedding and we had no availability to valet parking. 

Despite the few hiccups the venue provided, we were seemingly moving towards the agreement that this would be the right place to have the wedding. We could book the out of town guests into the available accomodation and undoubtedly Jack and Gemma’s family could bunk in at our parents houses. The kitchen was more than satisfactory for any catering company to use as their facility. It was ticking most of the boxes on our checklist. 

Harry and I had been standing in the corner of the ball room, discussing where the best possible place to put the DJ booth while Charlotte had briefly run off to get some more information for us when my phone had let off a message notification. Scrambling through my handbag, I finally found my phone and was met from a message from Emily. 

Emily Xx:

so that’s it huh? You’re fucking him again? You fucking HATE everything about him Indi! I fucking knew you would do this Indigo! Let me remind you one of the many reasons you left him for me! Here’s another article ridiculing you for hanging around the UK’s biggest womaniser http://www.thesun.co.uk/tvandshowbiz/762998/harry-styles-rekindles-romance-with-childhood-sweetheart-indigo-palmer/

My throat instantly tightened as I read every word in her text, tears threatened to spill from the rims of my eyelids. My thumb shakily tapped on the link she had oh so graciously shared with me all while my anxiety heightened. 

I had already read the article and was already twenty hateful tweets in when Harry noticed the tears that had escaped, most likely dragging down my non-waterproof mascara down my cheeks. 

“Hey, hey Dig?” Harry hushed as he instantly stood in front of me, the pad of his thumb running underneath my eye. “What’s wrong?” 

“W–we c–can’t have the wedding here.” I managed to choke out. 

“What? Why?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“B–because Charlotte or whatever her name was has b–been posting pictures of us the whole time we’ve been here.”

“No she hasn’t, has she?” I nodded sorrowfully. I said nothing more, just handing over my phone to the endless amounts of reactions that seemed to be popping off every millisecond. I couldn’t even look him in the eye. He knew how hard I took everything to heart and it was one part of his world that played part in destroying our relationship.

But somehow, I picked my head up.

My eyes flickered up with very little movement, just to gauge any indication of how he felt, despite in my bones knowing how upset he would have been. It was most likely the worst decision I had made today. 

Why? 

I watched how his face remained stern when he had finished reading the link, tapping the top left of the screen to return to the message thread between Emily and I; only to drop the moment he had began reading that message she had sent. 

“So I’ve got the booking information here for you. A deposit will need to be paid of course. So I was thinking we–“ 

“I’m sorry.” Harry began warily. “We’re going to have to go somewhere else.” 

“B–but, I’ve got the b–booking forms here.”

“Sorry.” Harry said bluntly. “I can’t hold a private event where staff are going to be posting pictures online before the actual event happens.”

He took hold of my hand, ever so gently and guided me back out to the entrance and carried on holding it until he had opened the passenger door of his car for me, waiting to get in. 

We only could’ve been driving for two minutes in dead silence, only the noise of the tyres crackling over the loose gravel could be heard until Harry coughed uncomfortably.

“Dig, I–“

“Are we stopping for a cigarette?”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

I took a deep breath in, the oxygen filling my lungs trying it’s best to ease the anxiety flowing through my body. What my body need was a tequila shot and a hit of nicotine to stop me from going crazy.

“It’s just an article.”

“It’s not just an article.” Harry said, anger seeping through his tone. “Our trust was betrayed; especially yours.”

I couldn’t argue that. 

“And I know you had your reasons for leaving me–“

“Harry–“

“But she had no right to try manipulate you with that article like that. It actually makes me sick to think she’s treated you like this for who knows how long.” 

Harry swiftly pulled his car onto the side of the road. “Please Harry, just–“

“Indigo,” The calluses on his hand softly scratched at my skin as he held my chin towards him. Sympathy poured from his forest green eyes, while mine were already bloodshot from the tears I couldn’t seem to hold back. “You deserve better… actually no, you deserve the best. And what she gave you just then was certainly not it.”

Before he could go any further, I quickly unclipped my seatbelt and threw my arms around his neck, my nose hiding in that crook I would find comfort in so many years ago. His lips pursed against the shell of my ear, peppering light kisses there as his arms wrapped themselves around me.

“I just – I need you to know that and no matter what, I’ve still got your back. You’ve got to know that.”

I sniffled there for a few moments, the beating of his heart the only noise being the only thing I could hear. 

“Can we have that cigarette now?”

“Yeah Dig. We can.”

v. let’s find someone to cook us some food (but I want cake)

“Jesus Dig, could you hurry up? I am starving.” Harry complained, lying on my bed staring up at the millions of fairy lights that scattered across the ceiling. I rolled my eyes at his childish antics, clipping the butterfly to the back of my earring. 

“I’m literally ready. Let me just get my shoes on and then we’ll go.”

“Well it’s about time.” He leaned up on his elbows. “You told me not to eat breakfast before this. Why would you tell me that if you planned on being this late.”

“We’re actually right on time. Our appointment isn’t until 11, which is 20 minutes away.” I slid on one shoe before throwing my foot up into Harry’s lap, saving me from bending down and buckling my own shoe. 

“You do know it will take us more than 20 minutes to get there.” Harry couldn’t help but snide as he slid the leather strap into the gold buckle. “You’ll be lucky if we get there in half an hour.” 

“Oh calm down, would ya?” I sniped wittily. “I Google Maps’d it this morning. It’ll take us 22 minutes to get there by car.”

“You can’t trust those things Dig. They’re not 100%–“

“Your mother really should have named you Harold, you know. You have the personality of a cynical 84 year old man.”

He glared up at me as he finished buckling my shoe. “I am a cynical 84 year old man.”

“Well, be a not cynical gentleman for once and do up my other shoe please?” The shoe hung from my fingers in front of him, the gold buckle clinking together as it swayed side to side. Harry huffed, almost snatching the shoe away. I nearly toppled over when I lifted my other foot up, Harry immediately getting hold of my hands and placing them on his shoulders to balance myself. 

“Right, that’s you ready to go.” He released my foot from his grasp. 

“Thank you.” I patted his shoulders once, his snarl slowly forming into a discreet smirk. “Can we go now? I don’t want to be late.”

“Oh, so it’s now you don’t want to be late?”

I didn’t even give him the satisfaction in answering, leaving him behind in my old bedroom at my Dad’s to get in his car. 

I had been surprised at how easily we had fallen into this weird friendship we had going on. We still argued almost every chance we could get, but  since that text message Emily sent last weekend, we were still able to get along just fine for the sake of planning this wedding. Even though Harry was most likely acting out of pity, I didn’t mind spending my free time with him. If anything, it reminded me of why I had fallen for him the first time. 

“Would you look at that! We’re here with time to spare.” 

We had pulled up to Scoundrels two minutes earlier than Google had anticipated, a smug smile perched right up on my face as Harry parallel parked outside of the café. Harry had no trouble in telling me to fuck off which had just made me more smug. 

The bell rang behind us as we walked through the doors and memories flooded in like a tidal wave. Scoundrels hadn’t changed one bit. Both Harry and I looked to the right where our table sat. 

I remember we could have only been about fourteen when our Mum’s had first dragged us there. Mum and Dad has only just divorced and Anne was wholeheartedly there to support our family in need. While Mum cried about the inevitable end of her relationship to Anne, Harry and I were forced to awkwardly sit with each other to the table in the right while Jack and Gem were out with their mates and over time, by sitting at that table playing the most stupidest games with each other, Harry and I used to both agree that it was one of the best things that had happened to us, because it was the beginning of us; the beginning to our adventure. 

“No fookin’ way!” A loud voice boomed from the counter, both of our heads swiftly turning towards the loud noise. “What are you doing here?! Are you two shaggin’ again?”

Harry burst out in laughter, clutching at his stomach as ZZ stood behind the counter, pure and utter shock written all over his face. 

“Zima!” Darcy squealed as she ran from behind  the kitchen and stood in the doorway. “You can’t just ask them that!”

“Well why didn’t you tell me they were our 11 o’clock appointment?! I would have had time to freak out before they turned up here.” 

“It was meant to be a surprise!”

“Nice to see you too Zuzima.” Harry grinned as he made his way over to ZZ, wrapping him up in a big ol’ hug. “And it’s nice to hear you still care about our sex life.”

“Harry!” I exclaimed, whacking his arm with the back of my hand. 

“What?!” With his eyes wide, Harry tried his best to act like he didn’t know what he had said. 

“Ignore them love,” Darcy quickly wrapped me up in a sweet hug. “Their brains operate at a far slower rate than ours. Makes us girls superior, I reckon.”

“Oi!” ZZ piped up. “You best take that back. Gender equality and all that.”

“You’re right darling, I’m sorry.” Darcy huffed playfully as she let me go and set her eyes on Harry. “Now get over here you. Haven’t seen you in months H. How have you been?”

I walked over to ZZ with a small smile on my face. I hadn’t seen him and Darce in years. I think the last time I might have visited would have been when I was visiting H on tour with the One Direction lads at one of their Manchester concerts, which was well over four years ago. 

“Hiya Zeez,”

A lot like Scoundrels, ZZ and Darcy hadn’t changed a bit either, so it wasn’t like I was nervous about that. I on the other hand had changed and from what I could tell, it wasn’t for the better. But ZZ just stood there with his kind smile and his arms out ready to give me a hug. We stood in each other arms for the longest time, just swaying side to side, holding each other tight. I actually hadn’t realised how much I had missed the both of them.

“Long time, no see sweetheart. You alright?” He mumbled quietly.

“Could kill for a decent coffee and a bit of cake.”

ZZ bellowed out a laugh, letting me go. “That I can sort that out for you. Go take a seat and I’ll bring us some.”

We all settled down on the larger table in the middle of the café, about two tables away from our self proclaimed spot. The bitter yet familiar aroma of ZZ’s coffee filled the café and I could already see from the look on Harry’s face, he was bloody happy about getting some coffee and food into himself. 

“So I’m a bit confused, like…” ZZ slid my Mocha in front of me and promptly sat down beside me while Harry and Darcy chatted amongst themselves on the other side of the table. 

“Are you guys, y’know… getting married?”

My eyes bulged out in shock as I sipped my coffee. I got that much of a shock, I ended up choking mid-sip. Harry had to pat my back rather brashly to help ease my coughing fit. ZZ immediately sat up straight, ready to explain himself in the fastest way possible. 

“D said this appointment was a engagement party sampler and possibly a cake tasting. I see that there’s no ring in your finger, but I thought you and H were keeping it secret.”

“Zima!” 

“What?!” He exclaimed, confusion written all over his face. 

“We’re not getting married, ZZ.” Harry said so carefully, as if he were trying not to break his own heart again with the subject of us and marriage. If anything, it added another crack into my own shattered heart. Darcy’s eyes flickered between the two of us as if her eyes were following a tennis match. 

“Jack and Gems are actually getting married and they wanted to have a surprise wedding as soon as possible. So they asked us to plan it for them.” He managed to snap back to normal, the knuckle of his index finger rubbing at the tip of his nose. 

“Oh.” ZZ responded disappointedly. There was no secret that he was definitely one of our #1 supporters. We had our first date in his café. Of course he was disappointed that it wasn’t us reuniting our love. “That’s well good innit’?”

“Yeah,” Harry looked over at me, a small smile reaching towards me. “We think so.”

“So what were they wanting to have for food?” Darcy asked after she finished sipping her tea. “Do they want to serve a big lunch or dinner, or kind of have a smorgasbord of food throughout the afternoon?”

“Well they’ve kind of left that up to Harry and I, so we were thinking that we could have smorgasbord set up on the day.” I explained. “That way people can help themselves throughout the day if we were able to do that.”

“Absolutely!” ZZ clapped his hands together. “We’d probably need to bring our portable container with our gear in it if your venue doesn’t have a decent kitchen in it.”

“We’re waiting to hear back from two venues and one of them won’t have a adequate kitchen, but they will have the room for the portable container to be onsite.” 

“Great,” Darcy wrote down in her notepad. “Now what kind of food requirements were you hoping to have?”

“Well ultimately, we would like a vegan menu if possible.” I tried to elaborate. “A lot of Gemma’s friends are vegan, but there are a few of Jack’s rugby mates and a couple of my Uncle’s that like a good roast.”

“What Dig is trying to say is that we’d like the best of both worlds.” Harry laughed, resting his arm on the back of my chair. “And we’d rather like it if you could make the wedding cake to

“Harry darling,” Darcy curled her fingers under his palm and squeezed his hand gently. “We’d do anything for you lot, especially after you helped us out a few months ago H. It be a pleasure to do this for your family and yours too Indigo. We’re really honoured that you both chose us to help you with your siblings wedding.” 

“Right,” ZZ clapped his hands, standing promptly out of his seat. “With that being said, I’ll bring out what I’ve prepared, yeah? There’s a killer red velvet I want you to try Indz. Come give me a hand Darce?”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as ZZ and Darcy both walked into the kitchen. 

“What did Darcy mean when you said you had helped them out?” 

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, acting as if it were nothing of importance. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on Harry. Tell me.”

His chest rose as he inhaled deeply, his eyes shining a vibrant forest green my way. “Mum told me Scoundrels was going to close just after Christmas, so I popped in for a visit to see why ZZ and Darcy were shutting up shop. The people that used to own the building were going to put the price of their rent up astronomically and they couldn’t afford to keep running the business when Aaliyah was going to go university next year.”

“So what did you do?”

“I bought the building. Well, I was going to gift it to them but being the people they are, they wanted to pay rent. So I agreed given that I was allowed to put the rent into a university fund for Aaliyah. But the building is theirs. They just don’t know that their names and Aaliyah’s is on the deed.”

I could hear ZZ and Darcy bickering in the kitchen but that hadn’t deterred my attention from the sweetest boy I knew, if not - the sweetest on this earth. 

“You are too good for this earth, Harry Styles.”

I remember first saying that to him when we were sixteen. 

He had been in the middle of the live shows for X Factor and was loving everything about his new life - the girls, the city, not going to college at eight in the morning. But he had heard through Anne that my Dad had just moved back to Holmes Chapel two years after his divorce with Mum to be reconnect with me and Mum was not dealing with it well, to the point where she nearly had a mental breakdown. So, he and Gemma invited me up to London for the week and any free time he got was spent with Gemma and I doing all the tourist-y shit around London. 

So I said the words at the end of my trip - “You are too good for this earth, Harry Styles.” He laughed boisterously, and shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal. It was just one of those things that stuck with us. To this day, I would say it was one of the best weeks I’ve ever had.

“N-no, I’m not.” He almost never replied to what I had just said, disbelief stricken all over his face. I could see his mind racing at one million miles per hour. 

My hand went to his knee, the pads of my fingertips applying the slightest of pressure in comfort. 

“Just because you don’t think so, doesn’t mean it’s not true Harry. You are inconceivably good.”

vi. let’s get everyone on the same page 

We were only a few days away from Jack and Gemma’s wedding and while everything seemed to be ticking along just fine, I had to go back to London for the last two trial days in court for the McNealson case.

I had already anticipated that my boss Mr Rodgerson would call me in to stand apart of the defence team when it came to the end of the trial. Thankfully for Mr Rodgerson and I, Judge Heatherly had come out with his verdict in our favour just before three, meaning I’d be back in Holmes Chapel just in time to meet Harry, Jack and Gemma at the pub. It also helped that Jack had lent me his car to use for the week, meaning I didn’t have to wait around for another 45 minutes for the next train back to HC.  

I didn’t think anything would go array when I pulled into Dad’s driveway, especially when all I was doing was dropping off a some clean clothes and my dress for the wedding; but as soon as I opened the car door and I heard two voices yelling at each other, voices so familiar it threw me back to my childhood, I just knew I’d be running late for the pub. 

“Why didn’t you let me know Matt?! For fuck sakes, she’s my daughter too!”

“I thought you knew Jules!”

It was almost like I was 12 again. 

Mum was stood in the kitchen, red in the face and fuming while Dad stood in the doorway to the dining room, arms out in disbelief, not knowing what he had done wrong this time.

“Why are you two at each other’s throats again?”

They both froze when they saw me come in the back door. Before Dad could even say hello, Mum directed her fury towards me. 

“Why have you been staying here on and off for the past month?” Mum spat viciously. “Actually no, why have you not bothered to come see me once since you’ve been back?”

My shoulders dropped as I let out an audible sigh. “It’s not what you think Mum.” 

“What do you mean it’s not what you think? What else am I meant to think when the only parent you see after six years of not coming home is the one who left you and your brother for two years of your life?”

“Julia! You can’t ju–“

“Mum,” I cut Dad off, knowing that they were both just egging each other on for a bigger and worse argument. “You obviously know that I’ve been helping Harry plan Jack and Gem’s engagement party then, yeah?”

Mum pursed her lips into a small scowl before nodding her head timidly. 

“And you know that while I’ve been doing that, I’ve also had the big McNealson on as well right? We found out this afternoon that we won the trial.”

Mum and Dad stayed silent, both of their faces showing small telltale signs of guilt. 

“I’ve just been busy Mum. I’m not trying to ignore you or cut you out of my life. From what Jack’s told me, you and Steven have his girls every other weekend and that’s okay. I just thought Dad’s was the most convenient place to stay because he has the room. If I’m honest, Dad and I have hardly spend any time together while I’ve been back and forth; but I’m sorry I made you feel like I was leaving you out of my life.”

Mum’s lip quivered as a small tear rolled down her cheek. Dad looked down at his boots sorrowfully as he leaned against the doorway. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you caught Emily cheating on you before Gemma’s birthday, Indi? I could have helped you with that.”

“What?!” Dad stood up immediately, his eyes running wild with outrage. “She cheated on you?!”

Mum’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know!” Dad huffed. “Would’ve driven up to London myself and let her and the world know she isn’t and would never be good enough for my girl. Would have shat in her shoe too if Indi wanted me too.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the complete 180 degree change between the two of them. While I had known for the longest time that they really didn’t get along, they were both ever so protective Jack and I. This was a good reminder to how lucky we were to have parents like them despite their flaws. 

“Look I appreciate that you guys are both so protective of me and I love you both so much, but Emily and I… that was something I just had to deal with myself. There wasn’t anything or anybody that could fix how things turned out or how I felt. Only I can do that, okay?”

Dad bit down on his lip and nodded his head while Mum ran her thumb under her eye to get rid of the stray tears that had rolled down her face. A messenger notification popped off my phone holding the conversation to a stand still. I knew who it would be and I knew I was now running late. 

Harry: Where are you? 

“And Mum,” my voice shook as I entered unknown territory with my mother. “You’ve got to let the whole Dad disappearing for 2 years thing go. Your feelings are validated about the whole situation, but Jack and I have made our peace with Dad. So if you’re going to have a go at him, express your feelings to him and move on. Don’t use Jack and I as ammunition against him. He’s never done that to you, okay?”

Mum sniffled as she nodded, relief seemed to pour out of me considering she hadn’t gone off on another tangent. 

“Right.” I coughed in the uncomfortable silence. “I only came to drop some clothes off. I’m running late to meet Harry, Jack and Gemma at the pub.”

“Hey kiddo,” Dad stopped me in my tracks waving me toward him, my suitcase still sitting on the back step. “Come here.” 

I walked into his arms and wrapped my arms around his torso. “I’m so proud of you. Congratulations on winning the McNealson case.”

“Yeah congrats Bubba.” Mum said after Dad let me go, wrapping me up into her own big warm hug. “Love you so much.” 

Harry: seriously? Why is it always me that’s on time? Why can’t you or your brother or my bloody sister make it to planned things on time?

Me: calm ur fucken chill mate, OMW. B @ G&D in 5 mins. Also, b a darlin and order me a cider 

I left my parents together but not as how I had arrived. They were both sat down in the lounge with a cup of piping hot tea in front of them, calmly talking things through. Jack was not going to believe me when I told him what state I had left our parents in. 

The G&D had been every Holmes Chapel child’s first legal drinking hole, except my own. I had one drink there the day I turned 18, a glass of Pinot Noir with the Toad in the Hole I had ordered along with dinner. Three days later, I had moved all of my belongings from my Mum’s house to my small studio apartment in the middle of London and began my life there. 

So it wasn’t like I knew the ins and outs of the place, but I could spot Harry sitting at the far left table with a half drunken pint of beer and a cider on the table. 

“You alright, H?”

“Would be better if you lot turned up on time.” Harry snarled, sliding my cider over before taking a decent sip of his pint. “How’d your trial go?” 

“Judge Heatherly went in our favour. Ms Cindy Stewart will receive a reparation payout of £2.6 million from McNealson and Sons and another investigation into Mr Carter McNealson’s workplace harassment claims will start next month.” I shrugged before downing half my pint of cider in one go. “A good day's work if you ask me.”

“So the bastard and his father got what was coming for them, eh?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

“I–I uh,” Harry lifted his arm up to scratch the back of his neck. “I ordered some food. Wasn’t sure if you had dinner or not. I haven’t. So I… ordered food?” A laugh that began at the core of my body escaped me. 

“You and pub food? I can’t quite believe it!”

“Shut up.” Harry quipped. “Nothing wrong with pub food.”

“That’s where you draw the line. Pub foods okay but when it comes to a 6 pack of Chicken McNuggets and sweet and sour sauce at one in the morning, it’s suddenly a catastrophe.” Harry glared at me briefly as the young waitress placed our food on our table. At least she got something that resembled a smile out of him.

“Get over it. I’ve got important things to talk to you about before Jack and Gems get here. Mrs Birkenridge called and said if we still wanted to book her homestead, we could. Her daughter is going to be around looking after the place while she’s visiting her son in America.”

“That’s good news!” And it really was. There were so many places around Holmes Chapel that we loved but with it being a small town meant that the venues were even smaller. The only other venue that could hold the number of people we were accounting for was the hotel that caused my meltdown a few days ago – and we certainly were not going back there. It was fair to say we were kind of banking on the Birkenridge Homestead. 

“She also said that we can use the bedrooms if we need which I thought was lovely of her.”

“That is lovely of her to do that.” I agreed. “Did you give her the deposit?” 

“Transferred it on the spot. Told the set up crew and ZZ and Darcy to meet us there tomorrow so we can get it set up and sorted.”

He was acting odd. We had been counting on Mrs Birkenridge to come through and she had. I couldn’t understand why he was acting… grumpy. 

“What’s going on Harry?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, frown lines deciding to make an appearance on his forehead. 

“Nothing.”

“Harry,” I tried once more. “What’s making you grumpy?”

His chest rose, uncertainty written all over him.

“Dad doesn’t think he’s going to make it.” Harry said, defeat laced in every syllable. “No matter how hard I’ve stressed to him how important it is for him to be here, he just… says he won’t come.”

Sadness seeped in my lungs, weighing my chest down all because I knew how the very act of Harry’s father not coming to his sisters engagement party/wedding hurt him to the core.

The topic of his Dad was an ultimate mess for not only Harry but for anyone who had the pleasure of dealing with his Dad. If it weren’t for the positive mindset Anne had instilled in her son, there would be no relationship with him at all. 

“Do you want me to call him myself? I have no problem doing so. I’ve done it before.” 

“Nah,” It was the first smile Harry had cracked since I arrived at G&D. “Gem reckons she doesn’t mind if he doesn’t turn up but like, I do. Like, if I were a Dad, I’d want to walk my little girl down the aisle. I don’t know why any father wouldn’t want to be at their daughter's engagement… or wedding. I don’t know. It’s all a mindfuck innit’?”

I nodded understandably. He was right. It was a mindfuck.

The messenger noise halted our conversation.

Jack: won’t be making it sis. the girls have turned up for drinks with gem so i’m off 2 deano’s 2 have some drinks with the boys. tell h he’s more than welcome 2 join 

Me: wow thanx 4 the invite arse. U 2 better be at mrs birkenridge’s @ lunch. xx 

“Well, guess who’s bailed on the meeting they planned?”

Harry rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of disappointment. “Bloody typical.”

“Well,” I clapped my hands together. “I don’t see why we should waste the rest of our night.”

“What do you mean Dig?” 

“I’m saying we should make the most of our free night not planning this wedding. I don’t know about you but I could do with a decent night drinking.”

Chewing on his bottom lip, he pondered the possibility of spending the night with me. 

“Fuck it.” He smiled once more, before necking down the rest of his pint. “Well go on then. To the bottom.”

That’s all it took for me to chug the rest of my cider and order us 2 shots of tequila each and another round of drinks, a start to interesting night.

vii. let’s get a start on this wedding

I could hear chirping.

Why could I hear chirping?

I took three deep breaths, my head thumping and my mouth drier than the Sahara desert. I couldn’t even bare the thought to open my eyes. If it weren’t for my turning stomach, I would have stayed in my deep slumber. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the weight on top of my abdomen, pressing all the wrong places 

“Get off.” I mumbled, squeezing my eyelids shut tighter as the daylight outside woke me up. Trying my hardest to push the weight off, I began to breathe quicker, my mouth watering at an insane rate as my turning got worse than before. “Get off. Get off. Get off.” 

A sigh of relief escaped me when I managed push the weight off me. Flinging the sheets off me, my eyes shot open and I ran to the bathroom, my stomach emptying into the toilet as soon as I collapsed in front of the toilet. The bathroom was beginning to spin once I had finished, so there I stood at the basin, stark naked brushing the remnants from the night before off my teeth. My thighs ached to the point where without the motivation to vomit, I wasn’t sure I could walk. 

I spat the remaining toothpaste into the basin, the running tap washing the foam down the drain. As I looked up into the mirror, I saw Harry standing behind me in the reflection, still half asleep and stark naked as I was. He reached around me, twisting the tap to the point the water stopped running. 

“Turn around.” His voice croaked. It had always taken a bit for his gravelly voice to warm up in the morning. 

Harry guided my hands to hook behind his neck, before running his own down my body, leaving a wake of goosebumps, settling at the back of my thighs. 

“Jump.” 

My legs locked around his body, while my eyes found comfort in the darkness of the crook of his neck. 

“You’re game.” I mumbled as Harry carried me back to my bedroom. “Walking around like this in my Dad’s house.”

“Calm down.” I heard him kick the door to my bedroom, as it bounced off the wall and back into us. “Your Dad left for work a couple of hours ago. He’s not exactly quiet when he leaves for work.”

My back hit the mattress gently as Harry lowered me down, a kiss placed on the very corner of my mouth which melted all my limbs to jelly. He draped the sheets over my body before occupying the space next to me like he had the night just been. His head rested by my right shoulder, eyes already shut closed. The calluses of his hand tickled at my hip as Harry pulled me closer to him. 

“H?” I asked so quietly, I wondered if he had heard me. My fingertips ran through the mess of his hair. Harry seemed to have liked it because he had shuffled closer to me and did this weird, purring thing. 

“Mmmm…”

“We had sex.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled smugly. “We did.” 

We lay in silence for a bit, the only noise was from the birds chirping outside my window. And while it seemed quite slow and steady out there, in here my brain could not stop running at one million and one miles per hour. 

“Do you think Dad would of heard us last night?”

“Oh yeah no doubt.” Harry chuckled. “Remember that time he stayed with us? The night of your graduation? You were almost louder than that night, I reckon.”

“Oi, no I wasn’t.” I disagreed. 

“Whatever you say Dig.”

Yesterday seemed like forever ago. While bits of it were a haze, there were times last night that were clear as day. I remember when Harry backed me into the corner, telling me how beautiful I looked. I told him to piss off. I remember tasting whiskey off of his tongue when he kissed me on the taxi home. I remember feeling so satisfied with colour purple that grew on the crook of his neck, admiring the handiwork I had done on him. I remembered what it was like to just have him in such a vulnerable state, the intimacy we shared almost identical to what we used to share with each other all those years ago. 

Rather than the experience being soul-shattering and painful like I thought it would turn out to be, I felt loved; something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Without knowing so, Harry and I fell into another deep slumber, where I had dreamed that we were about to go skydiving and I was about to jump off the plane when a phone began ringing.

“What?” Harry grumbled beside me. His heartbeat echoed in the shell of my ear as he listened to whoever was interrupting our time. “Shit! Yep, yeah. We will be there in ten minutes.”

“Who was that?”

“It was Gemma.” Harry slipped out from under me, making me whimper from the loss of contact and warmth. 

“Come on Diggy babe. You’ve got to get up. Everyone’s at Mrs Birkenridge’s.”

“What?!” That made me instantly sit up. I couldn’t recall in the whole time that I had known Harry for him to dress himself as quickly as he did. Me on the other hand still felt drunk. He threw on his clothes and then helped me into my own before putting me into the car and drove speedily towards the Birkenridge Homestead. 

“I’m so sorry we’re late.” Harry instantly apologised to the woman I assumed was Mrs Birkenridge’s daughter. 

“It’s no problem. I’m Rosemary, Mary-Louise’s daughter. You must be Harry? We spoke on the phone.”

“Yeah I am. Nice to meet you.” Harry grinned, holding his hand out for her to shake his hand. “This is Indigo, Jack’s sister. We’re both planning the engagement party together.”

Despite every cell in my body functioning at a 45% success rate, I pulled a smile on my face and shook Rosemary’s hand. “Hiya! Nice to meet you.”

”You too.” She smiled politely as she lead us around the property. “Jack and Gemma are just around the back by the pond. They were telling me that you used to throw pretty great parties back in the day.”

“That was mostly Harry,” I admitted. “I was too busy studying for my exams most of the time‍. All I would do was make sure there was a enough booze and food for everyone.”

“Don’t you listen to her Rosemary,” Harry was quick to dismiss. “She was a vital part of the team. Was always there ready to play an impromptu game of drunk twister and always made sure nobody felt left out.”

“Oh there they are. Took you two long enough to get here.” Jack said in a smarmy tone, all to arrogant for his own good. Gemma slapped his chest with the back of her hand. If Jack was gonna play this game with me, I was gonna play and beat him at his own game too. 

“Oi, pipe down pet. It’s not like we’ve done everything else for this bleeding wedding.” 

Rosemary looked warily between the two of us, I sure if we were being serious or not. 

“Ignore him.” Gemma grinned over at Rosemary. Harry just threw a warning look my way, as if he were saying ‘just shut your face for once, would ya?’ through the smallest movement of his eyebrow. “He gets a bit cocky when he hasn’t been fed.”

“Well, I say we get into it.” Harry clapped his hands. “You tell us how you want things set up,” he looked towards Gemma and Jack before aiming his attention at Rosemary. “And you can let us know if that’s okay or not to do on the property,” Then his neck snapped my way. “And Dig and I can sort the rest.”

For the next three hours, Gemma and Jack explained how they wanted their ceremony area and reception area set up, while Rosemary sat at the table with Harry watching the decorators do their thing. By the end of the afternoon, Rosemary was besotted with Harry and couldn’t stop gushing to her husband how sweet Harry was. 

It looked absolutely beautiful. 

Baby pink satin curtains draped against a frame that stood on a platform at the end of the aisle. Fairy lights glimmered in the tree’s and bundles of pink and white roses bloomed all over the show. What had impressed me the most was the smiles that just seemed to keep on growing on my brother and his fiancé’s faces. 

“Uh, Indigo?” I turned around to see Rosemary who looked unsure about what she was going to say next. “There’s, uh… Emily’s come to see you? She’s quite adamant on seeing you, uh… now?”

My heart dropped in a instant. I could feel my skin turn pale and my breath held still in my chest. I was in shock. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of how she knew where I was. 

“Hey, hey, hey…” Jack stood in front of me, his hands rubbing the sides of my arms to shake me out of the shock I was in. “What’s going on Prinny? You look sick. Is your hangover finally kicking in?”

I wanted to speak… No actually, I wanted to scream; but I couldn’t. I just wanted to be left alone for one goddamn minute to grasp what was happening.

“A girl’s turned up here to see Indigo. Her name’s Emily.” Rosemary patted my back comfortingly as Jack’s green eyes bulged out in disbelief. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “Do you want me to go get rid of her? Because I will. You know I will.”

“No.” I managed to shake my head and took a step back. I needed space for my own well-being. “I–I just wasn’t expecting her.”

“Well do you want me to go with you then? We’ll go tell her to bugger off together.”

“N–no thanks.” I shook my head before turning around to Rosemary. “I’m so sorry if she’s given you any trouble. I’ll make sure she goes home.”

She nodded at me with a sympathetic smile. “She’s in the front entrance. Good luck.”

I could hear her before I could see her. She was pacing up and down the entrance her normally pristine hair was messily thrown up into a bun. She looked like she hadn’t even changed clothes in the last couple of days. It was more scary than it was worrisome. 

“Emily what are you doing here?” 

She stopped in her tracks, her piercing eyes going right through me. “You need to come with me now.”

“I can’t Emily.” My voice wobbled. “I’m busy.”

“Yeah, with that fucking prick from One Direction.” Emily spat venomously. “It’s fucking everywhere Indi. Harry Styles back with his former childhood sweetheart. Do you know how stupid that makes me look?”

“What about how stupid I looked when you cheated on me, huh?” I cried so loudly, it echoed within the entrance. “Do you ever think about how awful I felt when I caught my girlfriend of two years in our bed being eaten out by your co-worker?” 

“I only did it because you stopped loving me!”

“That is such bullshit Em.” I angrily wiped the tears rolling down my flushed cheeks. “The worst thing about all of this is that I still fucking love you, even after everything you’ve put me through. I still fucking love you.”

“Well if you loved me, you would have never kicked me out of my home. You would have stayed in London and sort things out with me. We would still be together.”

“No we wouldn’t.” I spoke honestly. “You know, Harry never did anything wrong while we were together. Sure, his job sucked at times but he always made me feel loved. And I still ran away from him because my parents had fucked up the idea of marriage for me. All your cheating did was bring everything to light, Em. You never loved me the way I loved you and I’ve realised that it’s not enough.”

“Do you know how hard I’ve fucking tried over the last two years Indigo? Because let me tell you, it’s fucking tough when your girlfriend is still in love with her ex-boyfriend.”

“I’m not in love with Harry!” I sobbed. “I’m not.”

“You are though. You’ve never fully let him go and all you’ve done is run back into his arms. Forget me though, I’ll just act like everything you’re doing is fine.”

“For fuck sakes Emily!” I shouted, a lie bubbling up in my stomach. “All he’s done is help me with this near-on soul destroying wedding! He’s not even being that great about it. If it weren’t for the fact that my brother and his sister were getting married, I would have absolutely nowt to do with him.”

I could see the rage in her that had built up so much, it was about to overflow. 

“You need to go, Emily.”

Harry stood leaning against the hallway wall, a mixture of sadness and anger showing on his face. Emily scoffed as she spotted Harry a few metres away from us.

“Well here’s the big man himself! Suppose you’ve been trying everything in your power to woo our little princess here. Not that hard of a job to win her over is it?”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll get my security to escort you off the property and you’ll be given a restraining order.”

“You know what?” Emily paced back and forth for a bit, quietly laughing to herself. “Fuck you both. You two fucking horrible people deserve each other.”

Just like that, she was gone… and Harry wasn’t far behind her.

“Harry!” I ran up behind him as best as I could in my heels, yanking on his bicep to pull Harry back. “Could you just stop for a second?”

“Why should I Dig? All you’ve done this whole time is second guess me! I want the best for our siblings too! I want to do the best I can possibly do for their wedding! I don’t know what I have done for you to not trust me!” Harry puffed, his cheeks instantly flushing red as tears built up in his eyes. 

“Actually, fuck that. I proposed to you Dig! I proposed to you and you ran away and it was the last I saw of you. For the last two years I’ve tried to understand what I did wrong; what I possibly could have done to stop you from leaving me. All for you to not be loved like you should have been loved since. That fucking breaks my heart Indigo, it fucking does. We could have never felt this pain if you had just let me love you.”

“Harry, I–“

“Ever since I saw you sitting out on Mum’s balcony with a fucking e-cigarette in your hand, you’re all I’ve wanted since. But I’m never going to be good enough, am I Dig?”

I wish you knew Harry. I wish you knew that you were too good for me… too good for this earth in this lifetime anyways. It was never about you not being good enough for me. It was about me not being good enough for you. 

In this lifetime I’ll always love you but will never be good enough to match what you deserve. 

I wish you knew. 

viii. let’s have a wedding. 

“Get up.” My body shook from the sharp jolt that moved my mattress.

I lifted my hand in the air, middle finger flying high and proud as I squished my face as far into the pillow as I could. “Fuck off Jackson.” 

“Seriously Prinny. Get the fuck up.”

“I don’t want to deal with you right now.” I seethed, glaring at Jack with as much hatred as could muster this early in the morning. “Fuck off and get ready for your wedding.”

“I want to!” Jack exasperated. “But I can’t when both me and the woman I’m about to marry are worrying about our siblings.”

“Stop worrying and let me go back to sleep. There – problem solved.”

“Indigo.” Jack sat on the edge of my bed, tucking my hair behind my ear. “He loves you.”

No he didn’t. He didn’t know what type of person I had turned into. If Emily couldn’t love me, Harry certainly couldn’t. If anything, my worst fear had come true. I was unlovable. There was no need for Harry to take one for the team and brainwash himself into thinking he loves me.

“It’s been two, nearly three years since he proposed Jack.” I croaked, tears heavy on my eyes and my throat tightening to where it was becoming hard to breathe. “I’m a horrible person. He doesn’t love me. He loves this made up version of me that he’s had in his head since.”

“He loves you Indi, he told you that yesterday. You just don’t love yourself… or you don’t love love.” He argued. 

“Trust me, I know our parents fucked up our idea of love but in all honesty, it was you and Harry that changed that for me. Not Gemma, you and Harry. I knew that it was the whole marriage idea that triggers you but I thought if you could happily accept the amount of love Harry had for you by opening your heart up, I could do the same. And in a few hours time, I’m going to marry the love of my life, and it’s going to be great.”

The clock read 8.43am, which meant I had only stopped crying four hours ago. Of course Jack had to go set me off with the sweetest of arguments I’ve ever had with my brother.

“I just want you to have the best love you could possibly get and give and I really think Harry is your shot at that. But you need to fight for him Indz, because I think he’s lost all hope and from what I can see, you’ve got a little bit left in ya.”

And like the annoying brother he was, Jack was right. I did have a little bit of hope left for Harry and I. 

“Right, okay.” I flung the sheets off me, wiping the ugly tears that were drying on my rosy cheeks. “Move out of my way. Got to tell someone I love him.”

Jack grinned, throwing his keys on my lap. “See you in a couple of hours then.”

I wish I had more time to think, but it only took me three minutes to drive to Harry’s parents house. I wanted more time to think of how to say sorry; to apologise for disappearing after he got down on one knee in our living room and asked me to marry him; to think of all the ways I could show Harry how much I loved him; and most importantly, to talk myself out of doing this because deep down, I was still so unsure about me chasing after him. All of my insecurities were still there but so was Harry… for the meantime.

Gemma gave me a knowing look as she let me into her Mum’s house, whispering a quick good luck in my ear as she let me go from our hug. Ny heart pounded so loudly in my chest with every step I took up the stairs, leading myself to Harry’s bedroom. 

My hand anxiously wavered by before it knocked three times again the wooden door. I could hear the graspiness in his voice the moment he mumbled ‘come in’. 

My hand turned the golden knob and I visibly cringed as the door freaked while I opened it. But as soon as I saw him, leaning up on his elbows over at me, still half asleep not knowing who was at the door, tears fell heavy on my eyes. 

“Hey…” I choked out, all the words I wanted to say the moment I saw him vanished in a second.

“Hi.”

Rather than the scowl I was expecting to see on his face, Harry smiled and all it did was make me break down in tears. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Come on now. Come get into bed.” Harry hushed from his bed, lifting up the covers and invited me in. It was safe to say I near on ran getting into his warm bed. 

“I’m so sorry H. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I never–“

Harry shushed me gently, his lips peppering kisses on my forehead. His arm instantly wrapped around my waist, pulling my body right against his side, the shell of my ear right above his racing heart. 

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve never made you feel guilty for not accepting my proposal.” Harry whispered so carefully.

“I should have never run away from you in the first place.” I shook my head. “I should have stayed and told you how afraid I was of turning out like my parents. Instead I hurt you and I don’t know if I can forgive myself for that.”

“I think there is a should have and shouldn’t haves in our past babe,” Harry sighed. “The question we have now is do we see a future together…”

Before I could get my answer in, Harry carried on. “Because if I’m being 100% honest here, I’m in. With or without marriage, I want to spend this lifetime with you.”

Sniffling hard, I threw myself on top of his body, attacking his body in the biggest hug of love I could give. 

“I love you. Fuck, I’m so fucking in love with you. I’ve never stopped, I never will.” I muttered on like a mad person in the crook of his neck. Tears continued to roll down my cheek and onto his warm skin. 

“Love you too, Dig. So much.” 

***

“Could I get everybody’s attention please?” Jack's voice boomed over the group of people that had gathered in the backyard. Gemma stood proudly by his side, her smile beaming as she looked up at the man she was about to marry. 

Harry and I sat off to a table on the right of the aisle, bunched up together like two peas in a pod. Our fingers were intertwined, resting on Harry’s thigh under the table. Thankfully, the tablecloth covered out hands so not even our mothers could use that as an excuse to pry in our newly founded relationship. My head rested on his shoulder, partly due from the lack of sleep I had the night before, but mostly due to how exhausted planning this wedding had made me. 

Anne has burst into Harry’s bedroom earlier this morning, just like when we were kids. While we may of been sleeping for ten minutes at most after reconciling, she told us to both get out of bed and join her and Gemma for breakfast. She had made pancakes, and made me my own special blueberry pancakes. 

Things would have been great if Harry didn’t insist on eating my pancakes. We were thirty minutes into our new future that we couldn’t wait to see what would come from it, and we were already arguing. For the first time in a very long time, I felt happy and that in itself was an overwhelming emotion. 

“We want to thank you for turning up today. It means a lot to Gemma and I that you all could make it. But there’s two people we really want to thank from the very bottom of our heart.” Jack looked over at Harry and I from the platform. 

“As you know, my brother Harry and Jack’s sister Indigo have spent the last couple of months planning this engagement party for us. Haven’t they done such a wonderful job?” Gemma said, her grin never leaving her face. A applause broke out from the crowd in front of them. 

“If you didn’t know, they used to date! And like the annoying siblings they are, they would make Jack and I hang out with them all the time. It was like being an awkward double date.” She laughed, before turning her attention back onto Jack. “But little did we know what would come our way and what we would turn into. So in saying that, we have a bit of a surprise for you all.”

Gemma quickly ran off stage and pulled another lady up onto the stage with her. 

“This is Diana. She’s a marriage celebrant.”

A gasp came over the guests, while Harry and I chuckled between each other. 

“And since we thought Harry and Indi have done such a great job and all of the people we love and cherish are here, we thought why not just get married now!” 

Both of our Mum’s looked between in each other in shock, tears forming heavily in their eyes. Dad threw his head back, boisterously laughing his head off, pointing at us as we sheepishly grinned like we hadn’t known this was the plan all along. 

“You knew, didn’t ya! Ya little fucking shits.” 

Diana stood in between Jack and Gem, harping on all things love and how the very act of love made the world go round and more specifically, how it came to bring them two together. I didn’t expect Jack to be as emotional as he was. His voice quivered on almost every third word when he was saying his vows, sneaky tears being hastily wiped away by this big stocky fella who I hadn’t seen cry in almost twenty years. As for Gemma, well – you couldn’t get the smile off her face if you tried. 

“...I now announce you as husband and wife. Now snog each other, will ya?”

A surge of pride filled my chest as I watched my brother and new sister-in-law whisper ‘I love you’ to each other before kissing each other. Jack had said earlier that there was hope in seeing love. Now I knew what he had meant, and it pained me to say but my big ol’ brother was right. 

I turned my face towards Harry, resting my chin on his shoulder as I looked up into those lovely eyes I had been in love with since I was fifteen. 

“I love you.” I whispered, the most smug of smiles gracing Harry’s face.

“I love you too.”

ix. epilogue 

Harry thought to himself he had never been so thankful to see a door before. The moment he walked out, all he wanted to do was walk back in and stay there for as long as he could.

But Indigo was sick of hospital food. All she wanted was some baked ziti from the little Italian restaurant down the road and given the last twenty four hours she had been through, Harry would do anything for his love. That however meant Harry had to drive across town to get it, and while he was near home, he might as well pick up the gift he forgot and left at home. 

Harry quietly crept into the hospital room, trying his best not to drop the food his girlfriend desperately wanted, or all of the other stuff he had brought from their home. Despite the curtains were drawn shut, the sunset managed to peek through, setting the room into a nice auburn red that wasn’t too harsh on his eyes. 

“Hey.” Harry whispered, a moment of relief falling over him when he saw Indigo sitting upright, her hair tied up messily on the top of her head, happily gazing down at the little bub that had only entered the world just a few hours ago. 

Indigo looked away from their little angel, her smile turning into a grin when she saw Harry standing there with a paper bag of food and about three stuffed toys in his hand. 

“Hi. How was the traffic?”

“It was fine.” Harry walked over and placed the toys at the side of the hospital bed, the food put on the bedside cabinet, and a kiss promptly placed on Indigo’s lips. “How’s our girl doing?”

“Well she’s been a hungry little bugger for the last ten minutes, haven’t you sweet girl?” Indigo turned her attention back down to her little bubba, currently latched on and eating to her heart’s content. “But she’s been a good girl nonetheless. The nurse and I were really impressed at how well she latched on this time.”

“Not sure where she gets being good from. It certainly isn’t from you or me.” Harry snided, his wit still coming through despite most of his attention was on this little girl of theirs. He went to pat the apple of her cheek ever so gently with the knuckle of his finger but she was to quick for him, her tiny hand wrapping around his finger. Harry’s heart hadn’t melted quicker than it did in that moment.

“The nurse wants you to do some more skin-to-skin tonight too.” Indigo smiled at her little girl’s hand wrapping around her daddy’s finger. “She said it may help her settle a bit better when we put her down for a sleep, rather than nursing her to sleep all the time.”

“Count me in.” Harry beamed. “I’d do anything for you, little girl.”

Indigo’s free hand lifted up to Harry’s cheek, feeling the scratchy stubble on her palm. Admiration filled Indigo’s heart to the brim when it came to Harry’s love for anything, but it had been amplified when they had found out about their little bub growing in Indigo’s tummy, and then so much more when she finally decided to enter the world. In all honesty, Indigo thought she had peaked. There was absolutely no way she could be any happier than she was in this very moment. 

“Sweet girl wrote you a card while you were gone.”

“Did she now?” Harry’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “You know, we’ve got to give her a name at some point.”

“It’ll come in good time. Just can’t decide if she’s a Grace or a Georgia.” Indigo shrugged her shoulders, dropping her hand from his face, and back down to their baby. Her little bub looked content and full, so Indigo broke her suction and quickly replaced her nipple with the knuckle of her finger in between the baby’s gums. “Her card’s just up on the cabinet if you want to read it.”

Harry didn’t want his sweet girl to let go of his finger but he slid his finger out unwillingly. His curiosity got the better of him, wanting to know what his daughter (and Indigo) wanted to say to him. 

He picked up the baby pink envelope, flicked his finger under the paper and pulled out a card that read ‘To the Best Daddy in the world!’ on the front. His thumb pulled the card open, and with his heart beating ever so loudly, Harry began to read.

To Daddy. 

Aren’t you happy I’m out of the womb now? Now we can chat and have kisses at what ever ridiculous time of night without waking Mummy up! I’m so glad that I get to be your’s and Mummy’s sweet girl forever now.

While I’ve been growing in her tummy, me and Mummy have been having some serious talks about our future - just stuff like not being fussy with food and going to bed properly the first time. I said to her I couldn’t promise that but I did say I would help her ask something. 

Mummy said she loves you very much and has loved you the moment you gave her a pink rose outside of Scoundrels when she was 15. She said you tried to do this once before, but she got really scared and ran away. She hopes you’ve forgiven her for it, she never meant to hurt you. All she wants is to give you as much love as she can. What she’s trying to ask is if you’ll marry her… but she thinks it’d be much cuter if I asked - so here it goes. 

WILL YOU MARRY MY MUMMY? xo

By the time Harry looked up from the card, Indigo held open a ring box, that hand the most stunning carvings within the black coated ring. 

“So what do you say?” Indigo said with a nervous smile on her face; their sweet baby angel cooing in her arms. 

“Will you marry me?”