#last wedding i went to i was at a table w all of my cousins on one side we talked and it was chill nice catching up w them

[crunchycrystals]

the concept of being at someone else's wedding is more exciting to me than me getting married

[idkthisisjustforfanfic]

too soon to tell, chapter t w o

You dropped your bag in the foyer of Harry’s house after work on a Thursday. It was quiet--he wasn’t home yet and you’d keyed in knowing that you’d have some time to yourself.

You felt a vibrating in your pocket when you shrugged off your coat, your visible reflection told you it was a FaceTime call, Alyssa’s name danced across the screen until you slid your thumb to answer.

“Hello, hello,” you greeted, walking to find a seat on the couch.

“Where are you?” She furrowed her brows as she took in your surroundings.

“At Harry’s--he’s out, though.”

She wiggled her eyebrows suggestively. “I will never get sick of you lounging in his house when he’s not there.”

You rolled your eyes at your old roommate’s antics--she’d always been the number one supporter of your relationship and when you texted her earlier saying you needed advice, she promised to call on her lunch break.

“I’m not lounging,” you informed with a shake of your head. “I just got out of work, we’re having dinner tonight.”

“Mr. Popstar isn’t too busy?” She teased, aware of the tension both of your schedules had been causing.

“Apparently not.”

She forked a bite of food into her mouth, the sun was shining through the window behind her, the walls of your old apartment were redecorated now with the art of your replacement. “Is that what you wanted to talk about?”

“Sort of,” you leaned back and let out a breath. “I mean, it’s all connected--”

“What is?”

“I’m getting to it,” you made a face at her through the phone. “So--don’t freak out, okay? Cause I don’t even know if anything will come from it and Harry doesn’t know yet.”

She nodded and gestured with her hand for you to get on with it.

Knowing Alyssa, she was already jumping to conclusions in her head. You were pregnant, you were engaged, you quit your job, you had a huge fight with your sister. No, no, no.

“I interviewed for a job in LA...and I haven’t told Harry because all our friends have been so excited about us being in the same spot again but--”

Her eyes went wide at the mention of a US city, she did her best to hold back her smile until it faded when you said: “I don’t know. Something feels off between us.”

“Off between you and Harry? More than just being busy?”

“I’m probably overthinking it but,” you looked around his living room. Pictures of his mum, his sister, his cousins--even his manager--were tucked in frames and placed on shelves. There wasn’t a trace of you in his house except for the toothbrush upstairs and the key on your keyring.

“It feels like we’re not moving forward. And we’ve both been busy, like I’ve told you, but since we don’t live together sometimes we go days without seeing each other and it’s fine, I get that he’s busy, obviously, but--”

“But you want to move in with him.”

“Well, I don’t know--I did, sort of, I think--but then I heard about this job in LA and it sounds amazing but Jessie just moved here and no one will shut up about how great London is.”

Alyssa offered a sympathetic frown and repositioned the bowl in front of her to get another bite. “What’s the job?”

You almost didn’t want to tell her, sure she’d get excited and eager to have you back in the same country. You winced a little, bracing for her reaction. “S’with E! News,” you shrugged. “It’d be on-air.”

“Shut up! Are you serious?!”

“Yes m’serious,” you rolled your eyes. “But I haven’t told any of them because you know how they are.”

She nodded, “Jessie will not want you to take it.”

“God love her, but of course not. And Harry spends time out there, so it might be okay, but it’s not like I could ask him to go with me.”

“Why not? He’s famous, Y/N--he belongs there.”

“It’s too soon,” you whined. “He’s not my fiancé and we don’t live together, so--I don’t want to make it weird.”

“But you love him,” she reasoned.

“Yeah, but s’been weird lately!" You tried to drive home the point. "He’s made no mention of moving in and we’ve been dating for a year and a half, I’ve been in London for over a year now. He’s not even mentioned it, Alyssa, I swear. He’ll say things like ‘one day we can go on vacation,’ and ‘what should we do for Christmas?’ But he’s made no concrete plans to actually have a future with me.”

“Maybe he doesn’t think you’re ready.”

“Maybe he’s not ready,” you volleyed.

“Maybe,” Alyssa shrugged. “But you won’t know if you don’t ask him.”

“But if I ask him and he’s not on the same page I’ll look like an idiot and he’s busy with the album and now I’m thinking about moving to LA and--”

She watched you, waited for you to say more, but you were out of words. You changed gears.

“Maybe we’re just not meant to be long term.”

“Oh come on,” she groaned. “Not this again.”

“What do you mean by that?”

“Your whole ‘we should have left it in New York’ shit.”

You lifted your eyebrows to demand further details.

“You were freaked out in the beginning that you’d move back there and it would be weird.”

“And?”

“Was it weird?”

“Not at first, I guess. But I mean, come on---don’t you think we should have taken some kind of step forward by now? Even just mentioning the idea of moving in together?”

“I don’t know,” she said truthfully. “Maybe it’s different with someone like him.”

You rolled your eyes--what if that’s what you were sick of?

People always said that: it’s different because of his job, it’s different because he’s on the road, it’s different because he’s famous.

Of course it was, and that was fine, for a while. But what if Harry’s job always got in the way of feeling normal? What if you couldn’t have a real wedding because of it? What if you could never send your children to summer camp because of it?

Were you willing to sacrifice your own future to live an unconventional life with someone just because you loved him?

“When will you hear back about the job?”

“Dunno--talked to them last week on Monday and they said this week at some point. S'been a while, so hopefully soon.”

You’d been keeping busy, trying to avoid your personal email at all costs and also making sure that Harry had limited visibility of your screen at all times.

“Do you want it?”

You thought on it for a second. Being offered a job at a company like E! would certainly be an ego boost, but the mere thought of having to explain to all of your friends that yes, you’d been back in London for 18 months and now you were packing up and moving even farther away than before wouldn’t be easy. That seemed to be the one certainty in the whole situation: no one would take it well.

“I don’t want to leave everyone here, especially Harry--but I also don’t want to be stupid and think that this relationship is going somewhere if it’s not.”

Alyssa nodded and let out a sigh. “I get that, I mean, of course you have to do what’s best for you. But I’d hate to see you not be with him just because things are hard right now.”

You leaned your head back on the couch and sighed. You didn’t want to break up with Harry. If anything, you wanted to move forward and move in with him and do what you’d always imagined: have a good job, have a few kids, try to be happy.

But what if you’d been naive enough to think you could have all of that with Harry and what if this is how you were finding out that you couldn’t?

Were you still stuck in your teenage fantasy of marrying the boy you'd long been crushing on?

She watched you for a second before she reassured: “you’ll figure it out.”

You smiled, glad you’d called Alyssa if only to have someone talk you off the edge a little bit. You missed waking up one room over and her love for basketball games and New York 99 cent pizza.

“Well it’s not like I have to make a decision right now,” you said. “I haven’t even heard back from them. For all I know they could never reach out again because I bombed my interview.”

She rolled her eyes at your self-deprecation and offered a few final words of encouragement before you hung up and promised to catch up soon.

Ever since you’d left, Alyssa had taken it upon herself to keep you up to date on the ins and outs of New York. New restaurant? She’d send you pictures and a 200 word review. Crazy subway rats making the news again? Articles and video proof would be sent your way in a matter of hours.

She’d gotten a new roommate to fill your bedroom and apparently things weren’t always peachy between them. Peyton was quiet and shy--according to Alyssa. She was up every morning at 6am and in the shower at 6:30. She did yoga in the living room and hated it when Alyssa left empty beer bottles on the coffee table.

Alyssa was starting to lose her shit, swearing up and down that she needed to either pull the trigger and move in with Owen or find a new place altogether. It was my apartment first, she’d say. She should leave, not me.

It had been hard that year to leave the city you’d grown to love but harder to leave Alyssa and Carly and the things that made New York feel like home. It was also, in hindsight, hard to leave the place where you and Harry reconnected and built the foundation of your current relationship.

You heard commotion from the front door only a few minutes later when you rummaged through Harry’s kitchen for a snack.

“Hi,” he called from the other room, a close-lipped smile when you stuck your head around the corner to greet him.

“Hi! How was the photoshoot?”

“Good,” he nodded, watching as you stuck your hand into a box of crackers. “What time are we meeting everyone?”

Right--Thursday also meant dinner somewhere downtown with everyone in tow.

“7pm--but Jessie said we should try to get there early since it’s a new place and no one’s ever been.”

He nodded in acknowledgement of your words but seemed distracted, like his mind was somewhere else and his body was the only thing tying him to the room.

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah,” he nodded, looking back up at you. “Just a busy day and a busy week.”

You nodded, unsure if he wanted to say more or if you were supposed to have more of a reply than a simple nod of your head.

You’d both been stammering out awkward sentences and trying to dance around the elephant in the room for a few weeks, but now, under his gaze, you felt more uncertain than before.

“Are you okay?” He turned the question around and watched you closely.

“Yeah,” you shrugged, moving to sit on the couch.

“You seem--off.”

You didn’t know what it was. Could he possibly sense the tension in your shoulders as you waited for an email either way? You got the job! We regret to inform you…

Or was he just aware that you felt awkward since it had been almost two weeks since you had any considerable amount of alone time and even longer since you were able to have a date night that wasn’t interrupted by Jeff or Erica or someone who needed something from him.

He took a few steps closer towards you, a look of concern etched on his features. “What’s wrong?”

The words were on the tip of your tongue when he looked at you, eyebrows lifted as he waited for you to spit it out.

“I guess I feel like we’ve been distant.”

He pushed his head forward, almost like he hadn’t expected that to be the issue. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know,” you shrugged, caught off guard by his pushiness. Maybe you shouldn’t have brought it up.

“You don’t know?” He pressed.

You broke eye contact with him for a minute, wondering why you had to state the obvious. “Well, you’re busy all the time, Harry.”

He let his shoulders rise and fall in defeat, looking around the room in frustration. “I told you that finishing the album would be busy.”

“Yeah, but you forgot to mention that you’d also be busy when the album is done once promo starts and then tour,” your voice was quiet, not so much angry as you were upset.

You were tired. You wanted nothing more than to spend a night on the couch with him and only him, tell him about LA and about the sudden itch you felt to see more of the world than just London.

But with Jake and Adam always around and Bryn and Jessie, too, paired with interruptions from Jeff and Erica--it felt as if there was no hope for a private or honest conversation.

He came to sit closer to you on the couch now, took your hands in his. “I know my job is a lot, okay? I know it’s annoying that I don’t necessarily get weekends off or have a typical schedule, but once the album is out and the promo is done I’ll have a bit of a break before the tour. We can go on vacation somewhere, just us.”

It sounded nice, maybe a tropical island or a cabin in the woods. But before you could nod in agreement the thought of Los Angeles popped into your head.

His album was due out in December, promo from now through the New Year, some time off in February and March for both of your birthdays and then tour. You had no clue where you’d be by then.

Would you be in LA? Would you be in London? Would you be stuck in this same spot on his couch with decision paralysis and a crushing sense of uncertainty about the future?

He knew you were over-thinking and tilted his head. “What?”

You blew out a slow breath of air, twisted a ring on your finger and then looked up at him again.

You didn’t even have a chance to be more honest, a buzz on your phone on the coffee table in front of you both broke the room in half, the name of the woman you’d spoken to was in bold next to your email icon. You reached for it quickly, Harry’s brows furrowed when you pulled it close to your chest so he wouldn’t see.

“What’s that?”

Hi Y/N, thank you so much for your patience over the last few days. We would love to offer you a position with NBC Universal - E! News as an on-air correspondent in our Los Angeles headquarters.

You looked up at him quickly, cheeks red and heart racing.

“What’s happening, are you okay?”

“I got a job offer,” you said quickly, still holding the phone close to you.

“What?” He smiled, “why didn’t you tell me you were looking? I didn’t even know--”

“It’s in Los Angeles.”

His smile faded instantly, he blinked a few times like he must have misheard you. The leather of his couch felt cool beneath your legs, a clock on the wall ticked and for a second, you wondered if he could hear your pulse as loudly as you could.

He pulled his eyes away from you but then quickly scanned over your face. “Are you taking it?”

“I don’t know,” you said honestly.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

Silence, words filled your brain and crawled up the back of your throat, desperate to be said out loud, in real life, instead of just circling in your head.

Because I don’t know what we’re doing or if we’re moving forward. I don’t know where I want to live. I don’t know if I can stay in London forever. I don’t know. I don’t know. I don’t know.

Only the last part made it out between your lips. “I don’t know.”

“Y/N,” he stood up, more angry now as he looked around the room and scratched at the base of his neck. “This kind of feels like a bombshell to drop on someone.”

“I was going to tell you--but we haven’t had a second alone, I just didn’t want to have to tell everyone before I knew what was happening.”

“You didn’t even tell me you interviewed,” he said.

“The last time I saw you alone we got interrupted by Erica three times in one conversation.”

“Probably for a good reason--”

“But you seriously can’t even put your phone down lately when we have dinner, even when everyone else is there!”

“I can’t help it that my work is insanely busy right now!”

“I don’t want to fight with you,” you said this quickly, voice higher than usual and a heat on your skin that he normally didn’t provoke, at least not in a bad way. You stood from the couch and put your hands on your hips. “I don’t know what I’m going to do and I don’t even know if this job is right for me and under no circumstances are you allowed to tell anyone. Especially Jessie.”

He rolled his eyes at that.

“What’s the eye roll for?”

He shrugged his shoulders. “Everyone just got back and now you might leave and--”

“I said I don’t know if I’m going to take it.”

He was quiet at that, clucked his tongue in thought but then disappeared upstairs to shower and change.

The car ride over was awkward, he asked how your day had been and you told him you talked to Alyssa, he bristled when you admitted you told her about it.

It wouldn’t be the end of the conversation, you were sure of that. You’d likely end up at his for the night and he’d apologize for being busy, you’d apologize for not telling him and maybe, you hoped, he’d ask you to stay over.

When you greeted Adam with a hug, you ignored Harry’s sour mood and opened the menu in front of you.

“My first dinner as a Londoner,” Jessie smiled, shimming her shoulders in excitement when Bryn looked over the specials across the table from you.

“This is on you, right? New job, new salary?” Jake teased.

“Maybe if I hadn’t just bought a whole new bedroom set,” she rolled her eyes.

“How’s everything with you?” Adam eyed Harry, his question veiled to avoid too many details in public.

Luckily, Harry’s ability to go out in public in London was similar to that in New York. As long as a private room or a table in the back was requested, he could typically get away unscathed if dinner was less than 2 hours and if he had his back to the dining room.

“Fine,” he shrugged, eyes still down at the drink menu.

“Fine?” Jessie leaned forward, her tone insinuating that she didn’t believe him. “You’ve been working really hard all summer and now all you say is ‘fine?’”

He glanced up at her, lips in a forced smile. “S’all good, Jess--just tired.”

Bryn gave you a look, one that asked what stick is up his ass?, before she changed the topic.

“Let’s not tell our server how fit she is tonight, yeah?”

Jake let out a snort of a laugh and sipped at the water that had already been brought to your table. “Alright, you thought the one last week was just as hot as I did.”

“I did,” Bryn agreed seriously, “but I didn’t offer my number unsolicited. How do you know she’s even straight?”

“She’s got a point,” Jessie chimed in. “Remember when you asked that girl to dance in the club when her girlfriend was right there with her arm around her?”

“I thought they were just mates!” Jake defended.

“You also have the worst radar for gay women ever,” Bryn nodded.

“When was this?” Harry asked, the hint of a smile on his face when he watched Jake adjust his napkin on his lap.

The words came out of your mouth without thought. “You weren’t here--you were in LA.”

He met your eyes when you replied, nodded, and then leaned back in his chair, effectively bowing out of the conversation without saying another word.

You weren’t trying to be short with him. You looked over to Jessie, who undoubtedly sensed the tension, and offered a smile. “How’s the flat?”

“Good,” she nodded. “Glad that all my furniture got put together without any scratches,” she reached over and patted Adam on the shoulder.

“We’re not children, Jessie, we can handle some furniture.”

“You broke my dresser when I asked you guys to move it into another room,” Bryn reminded, a look of confusion on her face at Adam’s retort.

“Only because it was already half broken and a piece of shit,” Jake said. “I love you, Brynnie, but that dresser was already knocking on Heaven’s door.”

Harry let out a laugh at that, another memory that he had missed while on a trip to a studio somewhere north of London. He excused himself to the bathroom after you placed your orders, and once he was out of earshot, Jake leaned down and looked at you.

“What’s going on with him?”

You forced a cheesy grin and blinked a few times. “He’s just grumpy.”

“‘Bout what?” Bryn asked.

“Guys,” you leaned back in your chair, hoping you didn’t have to say too much. “I can’t tell you every single thing that happens in our relationship.”

“Well, when it affects us I think we have the right to know,” Jessie shrugged, playing the typical we don’t like when our parents fight card.

“It’s not affecting you,” you shook your head, eyed her seriously over your glass of Pinot Noir.

Adam shrugged, a smirk on his face let you know he was trying to rile you up. “He’s grumpy at dinner and we’re all here and we’re all aware of it. We don’t like tension between you two.”

“Alright, leave the woman alone,” Jake waved them off. “As long as everything’s alright.”

“It’s totally alright,” you nodded, wondering when you’d gotten so comfortable lying to them. “He’s just busy with the next phase of work.”

With Harry’s album yet to be announced, you couldn’t sit around in a London restaurant and divulge details--even if you were all acutely aware of the work he’d put in and the upcoming announcements and events.

Adam let it go. “How’s work for you, Smalls?”

Another shrug of your shoulders, “s’good--I told you all about my November cover story, right?”

“Yeah,” Jessie sipped a glass of Cabernet. “But you said you didn’t know who it was going to be with.”

“Well, s’cause I had to drop the bomb on him first,” you nodded in the direction of the bathroom. “I’ll be sitting down in a few days with Ms. Gigi Hadid,” you lowered your voice and leaned forward to say her name.

Bryn’s eyes went wide, Jake grimaced.

“How’d he take that?” Adam asked.

“He’s not thrilled,” you admitted. “But I’ll talk with his team about what to avoid specifically, I guess. Her team will probably have a list of off-limits items too.”

Bryn let her elbows rest on the white tablecloth. “Yeah, but, you can’t just ignore the fact that she’s dating Zayn.”

“I also can’t just barge in and stir shit up,” you said.

Harry pulled his chair out next to you and sat back down. “Who are you stirring shit up with?”

Everyone chose to be quiet now--Adam looked down at his phone and Jessie reached for her wine again.

“Just telling them about my cover story,” you admitted, watching his face for a reaction.

He nodded, a tiny smirk in your direction. “I’d appreciate it if you didn’t stir shit up,” he said, reaching to put a hand on your thigh beneath the table.

Those were the moments that made you feel less panicky--the realization that he was still choosing you and even when the tension was high and the mood was low, he’d reach over and remind you that yes, he cared. Even if he was late to dinner or distracted.

Which is why, when you got back in his car that night and headed for his house, you were surprised when his mood shifted again.

“I’ll just drop you at yours?”

“Oh--yeah, sure.”

“Did you want to come to mine?” He looked over at you like he hadn’t expected any resistance to sleeping separately.

You were quiet for a second--not if he didn’t want you there. “No, it’s fine.”

“I can’t read your mind, Y/N.”

“You don’t have to,” you said quickly, a prickly tone to your words when he made an unreadable face.

He drove in silence for a few minutes, closing in on your neighborhood when the street lamps disappeared for the sake of suburbia.

Eventually he cleared his throat and that sent you over the edge.

“What do you want me to say, Harry? Do you want me to apologize for interviewing for this job?”

“No,” he said simply. “I just don’t know why you thought you didn’t need to tell me about a huge decision like that.”

“It wasn’t a decision until today when they offered it to me.”

“Just seems like something you talk to your boyfriend about.”

You looked over at him in the dark of night, the glow from the dashboard didn’t help you see his features as he turned left onto your street.

“Well, sorry that we didn’t have the opportunity to talk about it between your work schedule and Jessie moving in and group dates--”

He slowed down on your street, put his flashers on when he stopped in front of your building. “I don’t want to keep secrets from each other,” his voice was softer now. “I don’t want to not know what’s going on in your life. I did enough of that for two years when we weren't talking.”

You sighed at this, the sentiment broke whatever anger was lurking inside you and when you looked up to see him, you wondered if you should ask him.

Are we ever going to move in together? Are we ever going to get engaged?

You figured the lead up to his sophomore album wasn’t the best time for that conversation. He pressed a kiss to your forehead and you climbed the stairs to your flat alone.

**

A few days later you sat nervously in a conference room and watched as beads of sweat formed on the water glass in front of you. Tyler had brought you in, offered you a breath mint, and promised you’d be fine. When you asked him if the whole room was hot he said it was just you and your nerves--but the droplets of water that raced towards the wooden conference table begged to differ.

You’d gotten email after email this morning: one from Jeff with the rules he and Harry had come up with and eight from Gigi’s team with requests for snacks, topics to discuss, topics to avoid, lunch request, arrival and departure time, and a few extra regarding booking her photoshoot the next day.

A text lit up your screen when you tried to smooth your your hair in the reflection of your screen.

Jake Newcomb (10:42am): In case you’re wondering what to get me for my birthday, a video of Gigi Hadid saying she loves me would be perfect!

You ignored his text and felt a pang of disappointment in your gut, you thought it would have been Harry with words of encouragement.

He was fine with you doing the interview, he seemed to come around to the idea when he met with Jeff and had a chance to mark some things as off limits.

So far, his list was as follows:

Don’t publish anything too negative about anyone in the band (if she says anything negative about anyone in the band)

Harry and Jeff got to listen to the taped interview

Harry and Jeff got to read the article before you sent it off to your editor and could make suggestions to cut things if they felt it necessary.

It seemed silly, but you’d long been used to the lingo of contracts and riders and ground rules for things like these. You knew both Harry and Jeff trusted you, in fact, Jeff was now choosing to see this as a good opportunity for press before the announcement of Harry’s album.

Your biggest concern, truly, was not looking/sounding/acting like an idiot in a room alone with Gigi Hadid. Your second biggest concern was conducting a unique interview and writing a unique article.

You knew that Naomi and Tyler were nearby for support if needed, Tyler had already walked by the conference room three times to see if your subject had arrived and likely to make sure you hadn’t sweat through your blouse. You thought the commotion in the hallway was him until you saw a group of busy-looking people with cellphones and sunglasses.

“Hi,” you stood from your chair, extended a hand in her direction and offered your best professional smile. “It’s nice to meet you, Gigi, thanks for doing this interview.”

She seemed hesitant at first, smiled a little and shook your hand. “Happy to,” she said. She turned over her shoulder and locked eyes with the woman who seemed to be the most in-charge of the group. “I’m good,” she nodded.

They hustled out quickly, you stood frozen in place and watched as she took off her coat before sitting in the chair you’d pulled out for her. Once the door was shut behind her posse, she let out a sigh that bled into a frustrated laugh.

“I could never do an interview with all of them just loitering around--wouldn’t that be so weird?”

You nodded, mirrored her smile and had to remind your body how to move. Left foot, right, breathe, sit in the chair.

You weren’t really one to get star struck, but then again, you didn’t spend too much time with celebrities that weren’t Harry or his close friends. You certainly never sat down with a model like Gigi to have a conversation that could be as awkward as this one.

She checked her phone quickly but then put it face down on the table. “I am happy to do this, I know it might feel weird for us to be hanging out--but boys are stupid anyway.”

You smiled at this, immediately relaxed when she leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs.

“Did you also get a whole list of things to not talk to me about?”

She stifled a laugh and rolled her eyes. “Zayn can be a man of few words but,” she looked down at your phone on the table. “Off the record--he had quite a bit to say when I told him you were doing the interview.”

“Off the record,” you laughed, “Harry did too. But how is Zayn?”

“He’s good--thinking about getting back in the studio at some point to start working on a new album, he’s been writing a bunch. Harry’s doing the same I assume?”

“Yes, yeah, he’s been really busy.”

“I know things might not have gone great between all of them at the end, but I don’t want this to be awkward for us.”

“Me neither. You can say as much or as little about the band as you’d like.”

She nodded, you figured it was time to give your pre-interview spiel.

“So, I’ll record us in a few seconds, you can obviously say ‘off the record’ if there’s something you don’t want me to include, but I like my interviews to be like conversations, basically. I’ll send someone on your team the recording when we’re done and a typed transcript. You’ll have 48-hours to look over it and revoke any statements that you don’t want me publishing or to clarify anything. After that I’ll write the story, send a final copy to your team before it gets finalized here, again, 48-hours to look it over and request any changes but at that time we don’t have to approve the requests. This is all in a document somewhere that someone probably signed for you--I’m sure your team is used to it, they know what they’re doing.”

You reached forward and pressed a few buttons on your phone, she watched until you looked up and told her: “It’s on now, so we’re recording and today is September 10th, 2019.”

She smiled like you were old friends. “Where do we start?”

“Is there somewhere you want to start?”

She leaned her head to the side. “We can jump right to it--”

“To what?”

“Oh come on,” she laughed. “Us talking about One Direction will make headlines for weeks.”

“Yeah,” you shrugged. “It’s funny that us just sitting down together will be a big deal, right? As if we’ve got nothing better to talk about than them.”

“Sexism at it’s finest,” she admitted.

“Do you find that a lot in your industry?”

She thought on this for a second, looked out the window but nodded. “It’s unavoidable, in a lot of ways. I think there have been a lot of changes over the last few years to at least move us in the right direction, but we’ve got a long way to go.”

“How would you want to see it change for the better?”

“Well, I’d love to have more privacy about my love life, for one,” she caught herself, looked to you quickly as if she felt bad. “Off the record, we can talk about it here, it’s fine. It’s different to talk about it with a woman, number one. And you’re you, you get it.”

“We don’t have to talk about it,” you offered.

“No, I don’t mind. Unless you plan on asking me stupid things like how amazing is it to be dating someone as handsome as him or do I find that his job overshadows mine, we’re good. We can be back on the record, too,” she looked down at the numbers on your phone, eyeing the ticking of the recording clock.

“But do you know what I mean? No one asks guys questions like that--or they’re different, at least. People just want to know everything about your relationship when you’re a woman and they view you in the context of who you’re sleeping with.”

“Yeah,” you nodded. “I get that.”

She smiled, “it’s hard to date someone famous, isn’t it? Lots of rules around it.”

You were surprised by the genuine look in her eyes, despite her own status and contracts and income, she seemed to be acknowledging that the two of you shared a unique experience and were now brought together under strange circumstances.

“It’s definitely hard for me--but, isn’t it easier seeing as you also have an assistant and a manager and people to, I don’t know, facilitate things? Not to invalidate how hard it still is.”

She laughed at that, “Yeah, in some ways, probably. He’s really private though, which is good for us. We focus on ourselves and do our own thing most of the time.”

“Right--you seem pretty private about it for the most part.”

“Yeah,” she shrugged, reflecting on your words for a second. “I think to me it feels weird that my relationship status can make so much news, you know? Modeling is my job and obviously that’s not your typical nine-to-five but--I like to focus on my work and when male journalists are continuously obsessed with my love life, I find that weird. I mean, you get that, right? I’m sure it’s no different with Harry.”

You bit your lip, embarrassed at how she’d managed to turn it around. She was right--you’d been getting more and more annoyed with how much your relationship with Harry was dictating your life--and for some reason, you admitted this to her.

“People are much more interested in me because I’m dating him--but they’d be just as interested in you even if you weren’t.”

“Would they?” She tilted her head to the side, another rise and fall of her shoulders as she looked around the room. “I get what you’re saying, but sometimes it feels like dating him gave my career a huge boost. I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t have said that.”

“No, I totally get it. I feel the same way. I was building my career in New York and it was going well and I was writing fun stuff and making a name for myself and then I started hanging out with him and--”

“Everyone started to care more about you?”

“Exactly.”

You thought about the headlines, the articles, the pictures in tabloids that undoubtedly helped your name spread like wildfire through London and New York. You had to ignore it, most of the time, reassure yourself that you were a good journalist and a good employee and the good things in your career were not just a byproduct of the boy who slept in your bed.

She smiled knowingly, her lips in a thin line when she looked down to the tape recorder, almost like she felt guilty for steering the conversation in a different direction.

“Sorry,” you cleared your throat, sitting up straight. “Back to business.”

The conversation bled into more normal things: the upcoming fall fashion week, how she manages self-care when she’s busy jetting from city to city, and, try as you might, the two of you wound your way back to your commonalities a few times: sexism in your industries, life as young women dating famous men.

You thanked her profusely at the end and promised that Tyler would be in touch to confirm the date and time for her corresponding photoshoot later that week. She draped a Versace leather tote over her shoulder and seemed to float out of the office with a posse of beautiful people behind her.

You stood--still awestruck--in the hallway and watched as the elevator doors slid shut.

“She’s prettier in person,” Tyler said from beside you, a notebook in hand as he stared at the air she’d once occupied. “I didn’t know if that type of thing was possible but she’s definitely one of the prettiest humans I’ve ever seen.”

“She was nice,” you turned around to see Naomi behind him, also eager for more details. You headed back for your office in a trance, they scurried behind you as you thought aloud. “I mean, I didn’t think she’d be rude--but I didn’t know what to expect with the whole band history stuff.”

“Did you talk about that?”

“Less about the band and more about--” you blinked a few times and sat down at your desk, “sexism, what it’s like to be a woman dating a famous man and how that affects your career.”

Both of their eyes went wide, a smile tugged at Naomi’s lips when Tyler put a hand over his heart in shock.

“I’m sorry, so you’re telling me that you just had a heart to heart with Gigi Hadid about sexism and your boyfriends and--”

“I guess so,” you shrugged, just as surprised as they were.

**

You gave Harry fewer details that night over FaceTime as you brushed your teeth. He was somewhere in New York, disappointed that he’d miss Jake’s birthday dinner and celebration, but he promised to make it up to him when he got back.

He lifted a cup of tea to take a sip, light shone through the window behind him on your screen and he scrolled through emails on his laptop.

You spit into the sink, an ocean between you.

“Have you thought at all about the offer? You have to tell them by tomorrow, yeah?”

You nodded, wiped at your mouth with a towel and then crossed your arms. “I can stay, I mean--if you want me to.”

He made a face at that, leaned forward and furrowed his brows together. “Of course I want you to stay, Y/N, but I don’t want to be the reason you pass on something important."

You were quiet for a second, uncapped lotion before spreading some across your forehead.

"I'm sorry I didn't react well when you told me. I'm proud of you and it sounds like a phenomenal opportunity...I don't know, it's just the timing of it--"

You cut him off, “well none of this is ideal timing, Harry.”

“Do you mean with my album?”

“I mean with any of it,” you said truthfully. “The album, the job offer--”

“Well the album existed before the job offer,” he trailed off.

Only a matter of seconds and a handful of words had managed to get you elevated and angry and ready to fight. That was happening more easily, these days.

“So what am I supposed to do? Always come second? Make every decision in my life based off of your career and your music?”

“S’not what I’m saying.”

“Then what are you saying?”

“I’m saying that--I dunno--I thought you knew what you were getting into.”

Quiet, your hands gripped the counter in your bathroom. Your bare feet were on the floor and you wondered why you were trying so hard to make everything work if things were only getting harder.

“That came out wrong,” he shook his head, the look on his face let you know he wanted to take it back.

“No, it didn’t." You let out a sharp laugh. "I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

“Take the job,” he said quickly, like he saw you reaching for the button to end the FaceTime call.

“What?”

“Take it. If it’ll make you happy, take it.”

“And what about us?”

“We figure it out,” he shrugged. “We try.”

You sighed, unsure what to say.

"It's Los Angeles," he said. "Not Antarctica."

You blew air between your lips, looked up at him for a second. The curl of hair that dipped onto his forehead, the way his mouth pulled up in the corner like it always had.

“I love you, Y/N. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”

His words didn’t offer any relief and you spent most of the night staring at the ceiling, tossing and turning and wondering how on earth you were supposed to make a decision.

Leaving him in London felt stupid. A few bumps in the road and you were ready to jump ship?

But staying and hoping for a ring or a shared address felt even stupider, somehow. You couldn’t pass up a dream job and hope that things would go well for your career if you weren’t going to work for it.

A few hours of rest came after 3am, your morning coffee was a tad bitter and the clouds in the sky seemed to match your mood. Maybe you should have spent more time thinking it over, talking it out, even calling your mum or Katie for advice.

But you couldn’t have told everyone about the job offer without a certain answer, and unfortunately, the person you wanted to talk to the most didn’t seem like he could be impartial.

You’d been upset, you’d been feeling disconnected from him, but that didn’t erase all of the good times and the happy memories you’d made, right?

Naomi and Tyler locked themselves in your office for lunch on Friday, they promised that they’d never tell your boss and they swore they supported you either way. Tyler used an expo marker to make a pros and cons list of staying in London and Naomi came up with a points system for each bullet on the list.

You stared at it, looked at the names of all of your friends, your family, your favorite cafes and restaurants in London. At the very bottom of what had become a long list of reasons to stay was his name.

And on the other side, Tyler’s poor drawing of an engagement ring sat beside a big question mark.

You didn’t know what the future held for you and Harry, and maybe that was okay. You didn’t know what would happen when you packed your life into a suitcase and moved to New York, but you’d survived to tell the tale.

They were quiet, eyes darting from the board back to you as they waited for you to say something.

You sighed, Tyler shifted on the couch in your office and Naomi smoothed out her blouse.

“I can’t take it,” you said.

Tyler’s eyes went wide, “really? You’re staying?”

“I can’t leave,” you shrugged. “I can’t leave him behind and leave my friends and start all over in a new city right as I’m really finding my groove here again.”

“Okay, I know we said we’d support you either way but I would have been fucking pissed if you went,” Tyler admitted, moving closer to wrap his arms around you.

You laughed, let him squeeze you before Naomi joined in.

“Me too,” she confessed, a smile on her face when she pulled away. “But I would have at least faked happy for you.”

You bit back the doubt and second-guessing, used their excitement to fuel a regretful email.

Thank you so much for the opportunity, but after careful consideration I cannot accept this position due to the geographical location.

Your thumb hovered over the small blue arrow, a wave of panic flooded through you when you hit send, like somehow, something inside of you knew that everything was about to change.

join the tag list here | talk to me

tag list: @thurhomish @styles217 @ursamajor603 @mleestiles @determined-overthinker @g0bl1nqueen @hsfics @sing-me-a-song-harry @theresnooneheretosave @cronias13 @rainbowbutterflyboy @unknown7549

AN: apologies in advance for the cliffhanger......except I'm not sorry lmao

[tahdashi]

HAHDHSD SORRY I DIDNT MEAN TO SCARE YOU

but ughhhh there was this art, i can't find it now but maybe you've seen it, seijoh 4 went to pick up oikawa and iwa from the airport and mattsun was wearing this blue shirt and his tits.. his buttons were open. his tits were screaming to be let out i think i should save them ..

ANYWAYS can you imagine him w the black kurta and rolled up sleeves. or or or this is kinda unrelated and stupid but i was thinking about matching lehengas right. who would be the shyest to touch your waist and why is it iwa. mattsun is shameless does not care about what your aunties will say ur going to marry him anyway. oikawa and makki too but he tries keeping it close to your blouse lol . iwa would rest his hand on your waist cause thats how he usually holds you but now there's skin in public so he tries to keep it on your back but there's more skin and if he keeps it at his side there's boobs. so he just kinda hovers around lmao. i feel like yams would be the same but he would eventually be ok w ur waist and would not let go. omg imagine dashi in a deep green sherwani . with gold embroidery.

KDKSK KDKSK sorry for ranting off topic lol .

NO IT'S OK when i saw the notif all i saw was "why would you put..." and i was like oh shit i'm getting canceled aren't i

i know the art... oh i def know the art pls you and i are the same (and tbh, i don't really think about mattsun like i've never been attracted to him but all this kurta talk is making me !!!!!!!)

NONNIE YOU CAN'T DO THIS TO ME LEMME SCREAM UNDER THE READ MORE

ok if you know me, you KNOW i'm a sucker for physical touch i love it i need it. iwa would be SO SHY ABOUT IT he'd have it on your exposed skin at first, but once an elder's eyes land on his hand, he realizes what he's doing and starts moving his hand away sobs mattsun def just has it on your waist the whole time he's just claiming what's his </3 i think oikawa's the type to sneak a finger under your blouse when he holds your waist i'm gonna scream

YAMS.... IN A SHERWANI...... NONNIE. i'm on my knees rn. the half up half down hair too.... i think yams not letting go of your waist is so sweet :(((( touchy clingy boy

also i have story this reminded me of JAKSHF so i went to my cousin's wedding last month right !! and i brought my boyfriend (he met my entire family for the FIRST TIME there. he isn't indian. there was a lot to unpack.) BUT he's a touchy guy normally which ofc i don't mind bc physical touch is my love language yk and he's like that when my parents are around too so he thought it was okay! it wasn't :,) my oldest aunt came up to me and told me it would look bad to the other family SJDSHFJ IT WAS SO EMBARRASSING she came around to our table so many times to check and i 100% know oikawa would get scolded for it too you can't tell me he wouldn't

[sonnetthebard]

You know that headcanon about Crispin getting into fights by accident? And his worst one being with Vern at a wedding? Could you maybe please write a fic about that? And maybe throw some Crispin x Odie in there if possible? Thank you!

Oh lord, here we go-

Genre: Fluff/ Angst/ Comedy/ Romance Words: 2283 TL;DR: Crispin really, REALLY should start talking when people want to fight him. TW: Fighting, swearing, drunkeness

__________________________________________________

Crispin bit his lip, sitting silently during the wedding reception. He didn't like weddings. He actually didn't like big events at all. Too many people. It made him anxious. But... this was Vern's sister and Mary Jo's brother's wedding. Not that he was friends of either of those people (he didn't even know their names, and that should say a lot considering the size of the town they were in). But he was Ellis' cousin and Vern was his friend, so he had to be there. Plus Odie loved weddings, and he would walk to the ends of the earth for that man. so... here he was. At a wedding reception. The last place in the world he'd want to be on a Wednesday evening. Vern had even done him a 'favour'. He'd made a little 'boys' table with all the people he knew Crispin considered to be friends. It was him, Vern, Ellis, Donny, Odie, Desmond, Aubrey and Sybilus. Apparently Ellis had insisted Vern talk to his sister about it because he 'didn't want his little cousin getting lonely'. Little did Ellis know that Crispin would really rather be alone right now.

It was a good party. And the food was good- especially since he didn't have to pay for it. Vern had made sure they had the best cuts of meat for the dinner, and god was it delicious. Like, the beef option was this melt-in-your-mouth prime rib and it was perfectly cooked. It was almost enough to make Crispin not regret that he'd come to the wedding. But on the downside... everything was so, so loud. Everyone was talking, which meant that naturally everyone was talking over each other. And everything just got louder and louder. It gave Crispin a headache. There was a reason Crispin didn't speak, and it was because he liked the quiet. He liked to be able to hear the voices in his head and think clearly. And words... they complicated things. Especially love. Crispin had seen love go wrong so many times because of words that hadn't been thought out properly. At least with signing you really had to think out what you were going to say. Odie and Crispin did just fine without verbal communication, thank you very much. He wished the rest of the world give it a try.

Crispin had sort of zoned out of the conversation. After all, with so many voices coming at him from every direction... it was hard to follow one set. He just looked around the room, taking everything in. he had to admit, the little tent they'd set up for the reception was lovely. It was pristine white. And inside, Ellis and Mary Jo had decorated it with some gorgeous flower arrangements. Nothing too overwhelming in scent though. And the music... their DJ was good. The whole ambience of the wedding was lovely, save for the voices. Now, if you could just funnel all that noise out and get Crispin a book... things would be great. Yeah. He could go for a book. And another one of those prime ribs. That was good. He hoped the cake was that good. So many wedding cakes just tasted like soap. He was abruptly snapped out of his thoughts by a rather sharp nudge from someone. Crispin blinked, snapping his head to see who it was. It was Odie.

"What're you giving me that look for?" Vern glared at Crispin. Crispin blinked in shock again. Was his face doing that thing again?

"I'm sure he didn't mean to give you any look, Vern... Right, Crispin?" Odie prompted. Crispin nodded, genuinely confused and a little scared. What had he missed?

"No, he did this sassy little eye-roll thing!" Vern insisted. Oh shit, had he? He knew he did that when he was thinking sometimes. "You didn't think my little sister looked good, did you?"

"N-n-n-now Vern... let's not be r-rash..." Sybilus tried to soothe him.

"What was wrong with how my sister looked on her wedding day, Crispin?" Vern asked. He took a look at Vern's place. Ah. He'd gotten some beer. How much had Vern had to drink already? Because depending on how drunnk he was... this could be very bad for Crispin. He frantically signed at Odie, Donny and Ellis.

'I wasn't even listening! I zoned out thinking about how nice this place would be to read in!' Crispin signed.

"You should really stop doing that." Odie advised him. "It never ends well."

'I know...' Crispin signed. 'Just... the whole ambience is great in here except for the voices. I can't help it that I just want to curl up with a book.'

"Well thank god." Ellis sighed in relief, relishing in the drama of it all. "Vern, he-"

"No. No, I want to hear him fucking say it." Vern almost growled. Crispin went pale. No, he didn't want to speak.

"Language!" Desmond chided.

"Vern, you know he doesn't do that!" Donny rolled his eyes.

"I want to fucking hear it from him!" Vern demanded, standing up. He grabbed Crispin by the collar of his shirt. Crispin gulped nervously. God, Vern was so much bigger than him. "What the fuck was wrong with my sister, you little shit?"

"Vern... I think it would be best if you set him down..." Aubrey attempted to soothe. Crispin gave a pleading look to Ellis, knowing that as a relative of the groom maybe he'd be able to talk Vern down.

"Vern, Crispin doesn't speak. And I know he didn't mean to insult your little sister." Ellis stated. "He was lost in his thoughts."

"Fucking creep... were you thinking about the bride on her fucking wedding day?" Vern spat, his words just a little slurred. Shit. Oh, he was drunk. Crispin was fucked.

"Vern... Vern, what's going on?" The bride asked, scared.

"This little shit wants to get in your pants!" Vern glared at Crispin.

"No... no, Vern, he wasn't thinking of her!" Ellis cut in. He liked drama, but he wasn't going to ruin any marriages. "He was thinking about how nice it would be to read in here."

"You fucking expect me to believe that?" Vern rolled his eyes.

"Vern, it's true." Odie insisted.

"Maybe it's what he's saying to you, but that doesn't make it the truth!" Vern growled. No, no one was going to talk Vern down at this poin.

"Vern, think about who we're talking about for a minute. This is Crispin. He doesn't have it in him to insult anyone." Odie pointed out.

"Well..." Donny countered. Odie mouthed a 'not helping' to him.

"Not to their face." Vern grumbled, eyes trained on Crispin. Crispin hated this. But... he couldn't find his voice. At this point, if he could he would.

"Listen, Vern, there's like... literally nothing to insult." Donny shrugged. "I mean, sure, the whole look was a little... old."

"Is that what you called my little sister with your fancy little hand dancing? Did you call her old?" Vern glared at Crispin. Crispin shook his head.

"Old can be beautiful." Aubrey tried. "That's why we study history. There's a lot of beauty in the past."

"Vernie, I was going for a historic wedding." The bride told him. "That was a compliment!"

"Stop trying to fucking vouch for him!" Vern snapped at everyone.

"Vern, enough!" Desmond demanded. "Put Crispin down!"

"No!" Vern shook his head. He focused on Crispin again. "You little shit... no one gets to insult my little sister."

And with that, Vern threw the first punch. It his square in the jaw. Crispin yelped, and everyone gasped. Ellis looked absolutely scandalized- which was a fact Crispin wasn't entirely sure why he'd noticed but he was a bit out of it. His brain was focusing on a lot of weird things. Like how weird Dr. Edwards' laugh was. He was snapped back again when Vern threw another punch. Crispin tried to block it... to no avail. He dodged a third punch. Then Crispin was slammed onto the table... and that was all that Crispin could really remember clearly. He remembered he'd started fighting back in self defense. he hated to, and it hadn't done much good, but... he had to do something. He remembered everyone- including the bride- begging Vern to stop. But... Vern was pissed. Like, drunk and very angry. He was an angry drunk to begin with. It was just Crispin who had gotten his anger that night. He should've known better than to drink at his sister's wedding.

Anyways, they fought until he literally knocked Crispin out. Crispin remembered waking up very briefly in Dr. Edwards' office, but it was late and he was tired so he just went back to sleep. The next day when he woke (still in Dr. Edwards' office) Odie was sitting on the bed beside him and dabbing at something on his face. Or maybe he was cleaning it. God, his face was so tender. Were those stitches? Shit, how bad had things gotten? Crispin groaned quietly. He didn't like this. He had a massive headache- and he hadn't even had a drop of alcohol. It seemed Vern had had enough for the both of them. He'd kind of hoped that the night before had been a nightmare. But here he was. His jaw was killing him... which meant Dr. Edwards probably hadn't given him any pain meds. Odie smiled softly, being a bit gentler.

"Hey, Cris." Odie sighed. "Sorry about last night... we tried. But... I guess the groom got Vern's favourite beer in for the wedding. We didn't really think anything of it until... well, you know what happened."

'Did I win?' Crispin tried to sign. But his right arm was really sore.

"No... no you did not." Odie chuckled softly. "Hey, don't sign if you don't need to. You bent your wrist back trying to punch Vern last night."

'O-H G-O-D (Oh God)' Crispin fingerspelled, before starting to laugh. 'I A-M S-U-C-H A W-I-M-P (I am such a wimp)'

"No, Crispy... you're just a bit smaller than Vern." Odie chuckled along with him. He cupped Crispin's face gently, dabbing a few final tiems above Crispin's eyebrow. "You just lay back and relax. I'm going to take care of you."

"Is he in here?" A voice called in. Crispin tried to sit up and found that he was very sore. That made sense. Vern had kicked the shit out of him. He laid back down. Now he understood what Odie had meant when he said he should lay back and relax. Odie turned his head, sighing before letting go of Crispin and standing up.

"Yeah, he's here." Odie sighed. "Cris, it's Vern."

"Hey..." Vern bit his lip. he came and sat on the bed. Crispin immediately tensed, still a bit scared. "Hey... I am so sorry for this."

'It's okay.' Crispin tried to sign.

"He says it's okay." Odie translated.

"I took it way too far... man, I was so drunk... and my hangover is terrible." Vern sighed. "But like... I'm guessing it's nothing compared to what you're going through. God, I am so sorry..."

"It's fine." Crispin sighed. "Really."

"Hey, you don't have to do that." Vern told him. "I was so out of line, asking you to talk... and assuming that you thought my sister was ugly... man, I was a total idiot."

"Well, that's what too much alcohol will do." Odie chided.

"Yeah..." Vern agreed. "Listen, I just wanted to be sure you're okay... I know I can get really intense when I'm fighting."

"It'll take him time to recover, but... he'll be fine." Dr. Edwards slurred from where he was slumped over in the corner.

"Good." Vern sighed in relief, looking over Crispin again. "When you're feeling better, you come by the butcher shop. I'll give you anything you want."

'You don't need to.' Crispin signed.

"He says you don't need to." Odie translated.

"Yeah I do." Vern chuckled. "Just take it, okay bud?"

'Fine.' Crispin signed.

"He gave in." Odie told Vern.

"Hey, I've been meaning to ask... last night got me thinking... would one of you mind teaching me how to talk with the hand thing?" Vern asked.

"I can show you how to sign." Odie nodded. "Ellis, Donny, Rita and Sybilus also sign if you ever need help."

‘S-Y-B-I-L-U-S signs?’ Crispin blinked. 

“Yeah! He went nonverbal for a while when he was younger, remember?” Odie smirked. He looked back at Vern. “Anyways... any of us would be happy to teach you. Just ask, any time.”

"Thanks." Vern smiled softly. He got up, heading for the door. "Well, I'll leave you two to it. Feel better soon, Crispin. I am so sorry."

'It's okay.' Crispin chuckled.

"He says it's okay." Odie smiled.

"Okay, bud, you're coming with me." Vern sighed, scooping up a somehow already drunk Dr. Edwards.

"But I'm gonna miss the good part!" Dr. Edwards whined. "Wanna stay until they kiss!"

"Not happening." Vern rolled his eyes, smirking. he called back to Odie and Crispin as he left. "Bye guys!"

Crispin waved.

"Well that was nice of him." Odie smirked. climbing to lay next to . "I like Vern."

'M-E T-O-O W-H-E-N H-E-S S-O-B-E-R (Me too when he's sober).' Crispin teased, fingerspelling so he could rest his arm.

"Which is most of the time." Odie chided teasingly.

'Y-E-A-H. (Yeah)' Crispin chuckled. He sighed. "Thanks for doing this."

"Well... you're a lot of trouble, but you're cute... which kind of makes up for it." Odie teased. "So I guess I don't mind so much."

'Y-O-U K-N-O-W Y-O-U L-O-V-E M-E (You know you love me)' Crispin rolled his eyes, grinning like an idiot.

"Yeah. I do." Odie shrugged, equally as teasing. He leaned in and gently kissed Crispin, who blushed. "Maybe it's a good thing that we're teaching him how to sign so that this doesn't happen again."

Crispin couldn't have said it better himself.

[georgemackayhey]

Like Real People Do

“Hii can you do an imagine, "Your first time with George" maybe as an insecure/uneasy reader"

"Can you pleeaaassse write more nsfw stuff? More Than A Night Out gave me my rights"

Alright yall, heed the 18+ warning! 

Seriously, I really don't want to block anyone (I love yall!) On that note... I wouldn't say this theme is my strong suit, nor have I been in a good headspace, but boy did I try my best ♡ 

w/c: 3k

───※ ·❆· ※───

You didn't date.

You called off meeting up with strangers in bars and listening to them tell half-assed life stories, embellishing in hopes they'd get to have their way with you in the same evening.

You were happy to mingle among friends on weekends and at parties, but going home alone felt safe. Keeping to yourself was the best bet, having learned your lesson by now. You recalled more unpleasant domestic experiences than ones that left you daydreaming of more. So you simply stayed single.

Some of your friends didn't regard your limits, tricking you into double dates and the like. Other friends understood but still gushed over their brothers and cousins in hopes you'd be intrigued by their qualities and demand to be introduced with wedding rings on standby.

And then there were the friends who never asked or bothered you about it at all. George was one of those friends.

He was your ride to your friend groups monthly movie theater meet up's. And he always let you take home his leftovers after dinners he wasted chatting with your mutual friends about books and culture.

In turn, you let George borrow your favorite albums. And you'd always saved him a seat in the back of bars you had to show up to for friend's birthday parties, while they threw themselves between strangers on the dance floor. Times like then were when you got to know George best.

And during the last month of summer, George invited everyone to take over a beach house big enough for your ever-expanding group and more. Apparently some of his distant family owned the property but were hardly ever in the area to enjoy it. So they gave George a spare key, and insisted he treated the place like his own.

And thankfully, then, between your friends racing to the shore in the witching hour, and when everyone split up into pairs for the evening, George kept you company. You made a habit of joining each other on the rickety front porch, sharing a drink, and usually sitting in silence.

But there were nights you talked about the constellations you could see above the roaring ocean. And where you'd like to live if you had an unlimited budget. Where you'd come from and what you wanted, and didn't.

You went home to the most dreary September of all time. You used to adore the solitude of your dull apartment. But you missed waking up to your friend's laughter, having someone, if not many more, to enjoy market runs and mealtimes with. You had never felt more lonely. And you couldn't stop thinking of George.

When he came round to give you a lift to the movie theater, your usual ride together was quiet. The silence between you was heavy- you wondered if he noticed. You sat together in a boring film. Or maybe it was the best of all time. You could only focus on how close George was to you, how you'd recognized the feeling of his company. You wondered how to ask him to come around more often, without sounding pathetically desperate.

Luckily birthday parties and Halloween bashes kept coming. And you kept finding quiet places to listen to George tell his stories. And he would always share his drink, and ask about your family, and how you were doing.

One night when he invited everyone around to his flat and only a couple of your friends managed to show up, they headed out soon after dinner. You were left alone in George's kitchen to help clean up and wonder what to do with the rest of the early blue evening.

And even though your heart beat in your throat, and everything you thought to say sounded stupid in your head, you determined it was time.

During a much too easy card game at Georges table, when a conversation about some of the horrifically silly things George had witnessed you manage in the past; you decided to stop testing the waters, and address them.

"I can't believe you put up with me." You grinned, peering past your hand of playing cards to the guy sat beside you.

"I just like you," George answered simply, his ocean eye flickering up to meet yours for a beat.

"Really?" You asked, pushing for him to say more, hoping he got the hint.

"I really do." George grinned shyly, turning his attention back to his hand of playing cards he kept accidentally giving you glimpses of. You watched George bite his lip and fiddle with the cards as if he were arranging them just so.

"What if... I like you too?" It wasn't just his tousled yellow hair, or the way his smile was warmer than a ray of sun. It was his lame jokes. His soft answers. Him.

"You don't date." George rose a brow, keeping his eyes turned away. He wasn't bittered or mocking. He was accepting. George laid down his cards, to a game you weren't focused on at all anymore.

"I like you, George." You admit in a hush. His stunning eyes met yours. He seemed to consider your words, and much more. He started to speak a couple of times as he searched your features.

"So maybe... we can start slow..." You offered. You had never planned on opening up to anyone. But George had stuck around. He was always there when you needed him even when you hadn't known what you needed. He didn't make fun of your unreasonable anxieties and he always laughed at your jokes. Even the ones you knew weren't funny. You hadn't expected to ever let anyone close enough, you hadn't trusted anyone could feel like home. But before you could even decide, it was as if your heart grew a mind of its own and lept right out of your chest into George's orbit. So since he already seemed to have you, it seemed like common courtesy to at least let the guy know.

With a shy smile, George bore his brilliant blue eyes into yours, searching them for assurance. As you looked to each other you felt his knuckles brush yours, the back of his hand nervously creeping closer. George took one of his fingers and looped it around one of yours while he agreed that it would be silly for two people who felt the same way about each other to do nothing about it. So you did.

George started coming around when there wasn't any reason to, sometimes bringing take away, or asking you on walks around the park. Sometimes you'd sit in silence next to your favorite old tree and enjoy that last purple swirls in the dusk sky. And sometimes you'd watch films, one after another, pausing only to argue over the ending or make silly predictions.  And times like then, you curled into George's side like a sleepy cat. He'd carded his warm hand through your hair as you drifted off, content.

You got snowed into his flat when you showed up a few hours before the first-holiday party of the season; to help bake treats for everyone. As ice froze everyone's doors shut, the party was swiftly canceled but your plans for the evening weren't ruined at all.

George set up his den with extra blankets, finding the holiday channel on the telly, standing to refill your cup of tea during commercials so you didn't have to move. He kissed you that night, soft and kind, and slow. You both fell asleep on the floor among the mess of all the blankets he owned, while snow piled up and over the window sills.

You spent New Year's Eve much like the past couple before, watching your wild group of pals take shots and dance to bad music. George listened to you talk as you waited for the new year to set in, and he kept one of his fingers looped around yours almost all night long.

When the snow started to melt and your group of friends started squeezing into their cut off jeans from the year before, George invited everyone back to the beach house. He set a date and sent out invitations in the mail like it was the damn 1800's. Most every rsvp got sent back with the box labeled "going "grossly marked up.

George offered to give you a lift there, a day early so he could stock up on emergency snacks and soaps and even more DVDs in case the rains came and ruined your fun on the shore. You agreed happily and walked through the isles of a department store together, picking out essentials based on how well you knew your group of friends who might need them.

And while you laughed and helped and listened, you grew increasingly more fucking terrified. Because you'd never spent so long enjoying one person's company. You were enamored with George yes, but what's more, was- you trusted him. You never thought it was possible. But you really did. And the thing that you were most scared of, was having to accept the possibility that he didn't feel the same way.

Things like this had gone wrong before. Granted, things had never gone remotely close to this right before, either. But you still prepared yourself to hurt. It was always a possibility you were too afraid of risking. But George was different. You somehow knew even if he hurt you, it would be the loveliest heartbreak you'd ever feel.

You got to the beach house, completely abandoned since the last time you left it. You found your someone's favorite lost t-shirt in one of the bathrooms, and a lot of dust on the shelves. After clearing away some of the cobwebs and unloading all your groceries to their respective places, night began to fall.

The sky was still blue enough to admire the roaring ocean from the front porch. George brought out a couple of drinks, and you sat there together like you had the summer before. Only now, it was a little too chilly. So you said goodnight to the scenery, making a note of spending extra time to soak up its beauty the next morning.

And on your way inside you joked about how someone was bound to forget to pack something they needed, or bring one of the things George asked them to. You were wrapped up in laughter as you turned out the lights and drifted to settle in.

When you headed to the bedroom where all your bags had been discarded, you scurried off to the ensuite shower. This was the room George stayed in last year, a space you'd never stepped foot near until tonight.

And when you stepped back out into the bedroom, you realized you didn't want to leave.

George was busy turning down his bed covers to the dim night light in a far off corner. A dark shine beamed in from the moon in the window next to the quilted bed, and George never looked more beautiful- perfectly tousled hair. Kind, sleepy eyes. Yeah, you'd let him break your heart.

"What?" He laughed in a warm low rumble, catching you staring. You bit back a chuckle and crossed the room to meet him.

"I just love you. That's all." You informed, circling one of your fingers around his, gazing up to the guy.

You'd said so in passing, during game nights he helped you win and in the middle of lunches he'd managed to talk you into ordering. But nothing prompted you now, and the statement held an all-new kind of weight.

"I love you, too," George whispered in turn, raising his other hand to your cheek.

"Can I stay in here? With you?" You asked, keeping your gaze set and your voice low even though no one else was around to hear.

"I'd like that." George assured with a tiny grin.

You clamored into the big bed, pointing out the window to the moon over the ocean. George eased in behind you, gazing all the same. You tangled your hands together staring out the window for a while, giggling over nothing every now and again. He was so impossibly close, so warm next to you.

"George." You turned your head slowly, catching his attention. He looked at you, silently wondering what you wanted. But somehow you didn't need to say.

Somehow he knew to lean in for a kiss, soft and sweet. When he pulled away, you could tell he didn't want to. When George looked at you, you could tell he longed for more, but still kept his distance, kept your meek nature in mind. He was too kind, too considerate. There weren't words to convey how you felt. You knew what came next. You wanted George.

You reached for his hand, and brought it to rest in the dip of your waist. He kept his eyes steady on yours while his thumb brushed over the skin exposed where your shirt had ridden up.

"Kiss me again?" You asked, barely a whisper. George leaned in, almost before you could finish asking, to press his mouth against yours. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt to pull him closer while George let his hand travel to the small of your back, holding you perfectly against him. He kissed you slow and deep like he was trying to put you in a trance.

Whether he meant to or not, you wondered if it worked, as you melted into the mattress all while lazily pulling him almost all the way on top of you. This was as far as you'd ever taken things with George, yanking at each other's clothes while you kissed until you couldn't breathe.

So when you gently pushed George away, he started to retract back to his side of the bed without putting up a fight. But you sat up too. And George watched on in wonder when you sheepishly slid into his lap, your knees on either side of his hips.

Without a word you pulled George's shirt up, silently suggesting he take it all the way off.

When he did, you didn't relish the sight long before you dove in for another kiss. His skin was burning, and you could feel his heart hammer when your hand traveled across his chest. You moved your kisses to his neck, reveling in the feeling of being so close. George kept one arm gently wrapped around you as your teeth grazed a spot under his ear that made his breath catch in his throat.

"Y/n. Are you- Do you..." George began, keeping his hold around you all the same. You pulled away, gazing to George through your lashes while your heart teetered on the edge.

"Do you not want to?" You worried. You were so finally sure. But George might not have been. So you prepared to be let down gently, knowing George would at least be kind enough to break your fall.

"Yes." George let out a breathy laugh, reaching to hold your head in both of his hands. "Of course I want to do this. But I know how you feel and if you don't-"

"I trust you, George." You nodded, searching his eyes while a smile bloomed across your face. You'd been so nervous for a moment like this to come true. But everything was different with George. He made you laugh when you never expected to, he made you think about things in ways you'd never even considered. He was so the one for you.

You wrapped your fingers around George's wrist, bringing his plus to your lips. You watched George's eyes flutter as you planted a small kiss there, before moving his hand to your hip.

"Just go slow." You nodded, watching George's eyes open to meet yours. You leaned your forehead against his while he nodded, making you laugh.

He decorated your cheeks with gentle pecks and moved his hands under the hem of your shirt as you leaned in to capture his lips with yours again. And because you spent a while that way, you weren't nervous to act upon taking things even further.

Kisses turned seering as George wrangled your shirt off. His lips traveled down your throat as you settled deeper into his lap, shocked by how easy this was. Your kisses grew longer and sloppier while your layers started to collect on the floor.

You impressed yourself by how effortlessly you reach to pull away George's trousers. He managed to kick them aside while you kept your lips on his, laughing between breaks for air.

But when he pulled you back into his lap, when his fingers danced around your waistband, you were suddenly swept up in the realization that this was happening. Like, really happening.

"Uh, wait a second." You halted in a shaky breath. You didn't want to stop, not completely. You just needed to assess things for a moment, to catch up with this new reality in which this wasn't upsetting or dull or any of the things being with anyone else ever was.

George stalled in an instant, nuzzling his head into the crook of your neck. "Do you want to stop?" He asked gently, hands firmly pressed against your back, eyes glowing right into yours.

"No way." You breathed with a grin. You knew it would be better than before, with George. Probably the best. It already was, you realized with a smile, encouraging George one more time. Your hips rolled against his, causing his heavenly sigh in your ear.

He wriggled you out of the last of your clothes and made you feel like a wonder of the world, tracing the shapes you were made up of with his pretty fingers. By the time you were laid against the pillows admiring the halo of light ringing around George's waves of hair, he asked again if you were sure about this.

"So long as you are." You swallowed.

"Of course I'm sure. God, I'm so sure." George pressed a kiss to your face between sentences, making you giggle and swoon all at once. "I've never been so sure of anyone but you. I'd like to keep it that way." George rambled, peppering a few more loving, gentle kisses to your cheek. "But if you want to stop for any reason, we'll stop. Just say so."

"Thank you, George." You grinned after a beat, knowing he really meant it. Recognizing how deeply he really cared for you, watching him search your face for validation. Watching George watch you, contentedly, like he had dozens of times before now. He gave you a slowly sleepy blink, ocean blue eyes shining brighter when they opened again.

George leaned closer, hovering over you with his eyes locked on yours. He molded a kiss to your lips before anything. Then to your cheek. Then his eyes fluttered to meet yours once more.

"Slow." You rose a brow, whispering a reminder, but it was really more of a green light for him to finally take the next step.

George repeated you, in a barely audible hush, soaking up the look in your eye. A lithe grin painted his lips while you held your breath. You accounted for the feeling of his fingers loosely tangled in your hair, his thumb brushing across your temple every now and again. You'd nearly forgotten everything else while swimming in those warm icy eyes of his. He didn't break you from your reverie when he gave a small nod. The gesture only settled you further, as you responded by lacing your fingers around the back of his neck.

George kept his hand nearly cradling your head as he pushed closer. His thumb brushing across the pulse of your temple was keeping you grounded while your heart threatened to soar into the clouds. While your breathing grew deeper, while he moved as close as he could until he couldn't anymore.

"You okay?" George asked, his voice beautifully strained.

"Uh-huh." You gazed at him through hooded eyes as you adjusted everything, including the realization that this was happening. He wasn't even moving yet. And he waited until you had to ask him to, with his head buried in your neck. After a couple of breaths, you looked to George, giving him a nod. He pressed his forehead against yours and moved his hips.

A tame, steady pace set in as you stopped George from asking if you were alright, again, assuring him you were really, very good. Your raspy encouragement must have given George the sound authority to go about awing you further.

He kept one hand against your temple while his other trailed down your side, fingers deliberately pressed into your skin as he brought your leg around his hip. George's strong-arm hooked under your back to keep you secured against him. He picked up the pace as your hands tangled in his hair, around his shoulder, holding on to the moment. To George.

You wondered why you waited so long to feel this damned good, while George spoke low in your ear. He listed off all the things he liked best about you, and why. He planted clumsy kisses to your lips. He made you see stars brighter than all the far off constellations you were used to pointing out from the shoreline. You seemed to float among them, above everything. Time slowed down while your heart sped up, somehow, and while everything around you faded into an impossibly dull background, you still had George.

His weight was warm and secure. His breath was hot on your neck. His voice was saccharine in your ear.  When he eventually eased next to your side in a heap, the cool of the night was still shielded by him.

You snuggled to his chest, like an old sleepy cat while he kept repeating how he loved you. You said so too, as many times as you could manage before drifting to sleep all tangled together.

The next morning came slow. You made coffee and watched the sunrise above the waves from the porch. When your friends started showing up in pairs and trios and more, they all seemed sort of relieved to find you and George attached at the hip. They greeted you as if you'd always been a packaged deal, and they didn't bat an eye when you stuck together to roam the vast empty beach. There was no fighting over choosing partners when someone broke out a new board game that night. When your friends were all gathered around the dinner table, and all the extra snacks and gifts and surprises for the summer were stored away, you still had George.

Maybe things wouldn't always be so easy. There would likely be fights and upsets and questions that didn't always have answers. But George was worth it. You had him now, you loved him and he couldn't stop reminding how dearly he loved you. Nothing had ever hurt so good before. You decided to keep it that way.

───※ ·❆· ※───

[papichriscnco]

I Object ~ Zabdiel

For @zabdielmuch writing challenge. It’s super late but I wanted to write it anyway.

Summary: You've always been the romantic type. Expecting to get married and live a perfect suburban life but being with Zabdiel destroys that idea for you.

Part Two

You had been with Zabdiel for almost two years and even though everyone around you said things wouldn’t end well the both of you ignored their pleas for you to just stay friends. Zabdiel wasn’t the kind to settle down and get married. After his parents' messy divorce he would often say that he wasn’t sure he even believed in marriage. You were the exact opposite, infatuated with the idea of a beautiful white gown and kids, the both of you weren’t a likely pairing. At the start of your relationship, you figured Zabdiel would get over his hatred for all things wedding related or you move on from your future with a white picket fence. The longer you were with Zabdiel the more you wanted that future with him. 

You had been together for six months the first time it had caused a small fight. You were laying in bed watching a romance movie when you looked up at him and said, “I can’t wait to marry you one day.” As soon as the words escaped your mouth you felt the energy in the room shift and you immediately apologised, “I’m sorry, I don’t know what came over me.” you blushed moving away from his arms. 

Zabdiel wanted to comfort you and tell you that he wasn’t upset and that you hadn’t frightened him like you had thought but he couldn’t bring himself to do it. As much as you needed him to wrap you in his arms, he instead decided to pour himself a drink. He didn’t respond to you and your confession, he just stood up and muttered, “I’ll be back.” You sat anxiously in the next room waiting for his return. He took ten minutes to pour himself a drink of water and you began pacing the floor. As much as your head was telling you to run out to him and talk about what just happened, your legs told you to continue pacing the floor of his apartment. When he walked back in the room, his eyes were hardened and he looked at you almost coldly. Your expression showed how nervous you were but that didn’t stop him from letting the words fly from his lips. “You know I don’t ever want to get married.”

“I-I know.” you looked down ashamed. “I’m sorry.” 

You didn’t remember much about the fight but you remembered the way Zabdiel sighed before walking over and hugging you. He kissed the top of your head soothingly as he rubbed your back. 

“I’m sorry. I know that’s what you want.” You and Zabdiel had been friends for years before you started dating. He knew you had always pictured a wedding for yourself. From your dress to the gift that guests would take home. “I just can’t think about that kind of thing right now.”

You looked up at him smiling, grateful that he was taking you in his arms. “The next time you take that long to pour yourself a drink, I’m going to kill you,” you joked. Zabdiel laughed and you sat back down to watch the movie. 

The next time it became an issue, it was because of Zabdiel. You had been invited to his cousin's wedding and you were excited to say the least. You had known his cousin for a little while and you loved weddings. You dressed up, looked amazing and felt great. Well you did until you sat down at the church. Zabdiel had a hand on your knee and every few minutes he would crack a joke at the expense of the couple. When the bride walked down the aisle, you felt tears springing in your eyes until Zabdiel began humming the Jaws theme song in your ear. You rolled your eyes, giggling at first but as the day went on the jokes hit you harder and harder. 

You were sitting down about to dig into your dessert when his aunty asked Zabdiel when he was going to ‘pop the question’. You knew the question would trigger Zabdiel but you hadn’t expected him to be so rude. 

“Oh gosh,” he turned to you almost aggressively, “did you pay her to ask me?” Everyone at the table watched the interaction cautiously. Your eyes turned dark and hard. You had never once pressured Zabdiel into proposing so you weren’t sure why he even bothered to ask the question. His aunty quickly jumped at your defence, “I was just asking,” she laughed trying to ease the tension but as soon as Zabdiel’s eyes left yours, you stood up quickly excusing yourself for some air. Zabdiel rolled his eyes following after you. You were practically running while he calmly followed you outside. “What’s wrong?” he asked once no one else was around. You whipped around to him, a few tears escaping your face as you patted them gently careful not to ruin your makeup.

“What’s wrong?” you retorted. “What’s wrong?” you asked again. “You just humiliated me in front of everyone. I was so excited to be here and you’ve done nothing but mock this wedding the whole day. I let it slide. Every. Single. Time.” you spoke helplessly. “But then you turned to me like I’ve been asking for a ring for months and almost scolded me like a child because somebody else asked when you were proposing to me. I’ve tried to let all of it go. The ideas and fantasies about getting married but you don’t need to throw it in my face like that Zab.”

Zabdiel wanted to speak but he was careful to make sure you had finished your speech first. Once he was positive you were done, he guided you against the wall of the venue, his hands on either side of your head and he leaned down to kiss you passionately. Neither of you were touching each other but your lips were moving rushed and in perfect unison. He knew that kissing you would calm you down so when he pulled away and carefully wiped away your tears he began speaking. 

“You’re right.” he nodded, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’ve just been a bit overwhelmed today. I was nervous.” he admitted, “I was nervous that today would set you off and so I’ve been trying to-to…” he couldn’t figure out what he was trying to do but you already knew. 

“You were trying to make sure I knew where you stood on it all.” you spoke sadly. His eyes looked down at yours and he could see how much this was hurting you. He didn’t want to say it but he couldn’t help but think, ‘maybe everyone was right. Maybe you would have been better as friends.’ Before he could even think of saying it you did. 

“Maybe we’re just in over our heads.” 

As soon as he heard the words, he knew that this wasn’t what he wanted. He didn’t want to be apart from you. So he quickly moved to kiss you again, this time his hands cupped your cheeks. 

“I love you. I’ve never said that before but I love you.” The words had surprised you. Not only had he never told you he loved you but you knew he had never told any girl he had loved them. “Not just love but I’m in love with you.” his words were almost rushed and you weren’t sure how to respond at first but you knew how you felt.

“I love you too.” you smiled. 

In that moment you had thought that was all you would need. His love. But as another year passed you found yourself often wishing that Zabdiel had the same adoration for marriage and weddings as you did. You were sitting on the couch watching another reality show when one of the contestants proposed to another. Your eyes teared up and within a few moments you were sobbing on your couch. Zabdiel wasn’t home so you let yourself have some time to mourn the wedding you had always wanted but your crying was so loud that you hadn’t realised when he walked in the door. He heard you and ran into the living room afriad for what he would see. When he looked at the TV and saw a wedding unfold, he had thought you were just emotional about the wedding so he made a joking comment.

“You're really sensitive huh?” His voice had surprised you and you quickly turned the TV off. He had expected your tears to stop but when he saw your bloodshot eyes he knew what this was about. It had been almost a whole year since his cousin's wedding and neither of you had spoken about marriage since. He had thought you had moved on but you were just pushing your feelings deeper and deeper. This was a year of pent up emotions. “Mi amor,” he spoke sadly. He wanted to hug you but he could feel how distant you were from him in his moment. The last thing you wanted was for him to hold you and tell you it was going to be ok because it wasn’t. Of course it wasn’t. You wanted to marry him and he never wanted to hear that word again in his life. 

“I just can’t Zabdiel. Not anymore.” you calmed yourself down, wiping the tears away before moving into your bedroom. You took a small suitcase from under your bed, wiping away some dust before you started packing your belongings. Zabdiel walked into the room a few moments later.

“Baby,” he started but when his eyes saw you packing your bags he froze in his spot. His eyes looked from your bag to the open dresser and up to you. “W-what are you doing?” he asked. 

“I told you,” you muttered looking down. “I can’t do this anymore.” your tears were threatening to spill again but you couldn’t take it. You couldn’t let yourself cry for another minute. 

“So you’re just going to leave?” he asked, disappointment and anger lacing his tone. 

You sighed, stopping in your tracks. “We keep doing this back and forth. I love you. I really do but I’m not ever going to be fulfilled without marrying you and I know it sounds stupid but it’s what I want. I want to get married and if you can’t do that for me then-”

“Then what?” he spat out, “you’re just going to go find someone else? I’m so easily replaced.” he scoffed, rolling his eyes. “That’s why I don’t want to get married. People are replaceable and if you can walk away this easily we shouldn’t be thinking about marriage. Don’t you get that?”

His words hit you in the chest and you took a step back from the blow of them. 

“You are not replaceable. I will never feel for anyone how I feel for you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you but if you can’t understand that part of that involves getting married then I can’t be with you. Getting married isn’t about just love. It’s making sure that whatever problems we have, we decide to work through them and not just break up.”

“That’s what you’re doing though! You’re leaving me instead of working through this problem.” 

“Zabdiel!” you shouted. “I’ve tried to work through this for so long! It’s really hard to work through a problem alone. You’ve never tried to meet me halfway. You’ve only ever expected me to change my mind.”

He didn’t respond. He couldn’t. He knew you were right. He wasn’t sure if it was his pride or his disinterest in marriage but whatever it was, it drove him out of the room. He picked up his keys and he walked out. It was the last time you had ever seen Zabdiel. You had sent your friends to pick up the rest of your things and he never tried to contact you once you had permanently moved out. That’s why it was a surprise when you were stood in a beautiful white dress, the one you had always pictured in front of a man that wasn’t Zabdiel when he stood up from the crowd at your wedding muttering ‘I object’. He spoke softly enough that people couldn’t tell where it was coming from, their heads bouncing around the church but he was loud enough that you knew exactly who it was.

---

tag list x

@rosebud213 @sapdfrpimentel @stellastyless @cncos-baby @joelpimenteljs @lostinzabdielito @h-bea92 @marinohr @chrissycallejo @ericksmamita @mind-of-tavia @stressedkitkatttt @prettyboypimentel @la-undercover-latina @stripzabdiel

[shuatoyou]

hello!! can i request a fake dating f2l au with joshua w a bit of jealous joshua and mainly fluff with a teeny bit of angst thanku!

here’s the long awaited request anon! thank you for this i hope you enjoy reading as much as i enjoyed writing.

fluff with some angst i think?

joshua x reader 

wc; 1,896

“y/n are you bringing a date to the wedding?” your mom curiously asks while you observe the dress you had on in the mirror in front of you. the question makes you turn around to face her.

“um no?” you hesitate and your response makes her look up at you.

“bring your boyfriend sweetheart.” she smiles diverting her attention to the dress you had on. “that joshua kid, he’s your boyfriend right?”

“yeah! o-of course” you stammer on your words hoping your mom would take no notice and turn around on your heals swiftly facing the mirror watching your reflection panic.

you and joshua were not dating in fact you doubted he would have any feelings for you whatsoever seeing as you were best friends, however he was a regular plus one to the family events because of them constantly getting on your case about dating and it would be embarrassing for them if their only daughter kept attending these events alone after all they boasted about your social life. so joshua continuously offered to attend alongside you and pretend to be your lover which was a role he played successfully to your luck.

you walked out of the dress store shortly parting ways with your mother to go back to your home with the new dress for the upcoming occasion.

you walk in to your humble abode dropping all your bags down beside the sofa and letting yourself fall onto the soft seat. truthfully you dreaded asking joshua to go to this wedding with you as your date mainly due to the fact you had some unrequited feelings you’d recently develo=ped towards the other but you knew it would be even more awkward asking someone else from your friendship circle so he was the only answer at the end of the day.

picking up your phone you dial joshua’s number startling once you hear his soft voice come through. 

“hey y/n whats up?” joshua asks cheerfully making you close your eyes tightly at the tone of voice that always gave you butterflies.

“nothing much, i was just wondering if you were free this weekend?” you ask him as confidently as you can.

“are you asking me on a date?” at this point you knew he was smirking as he asked that.

“no but i do need someone to go with me to my cousins wedding this saturday. you’re being weird though maybe i’ll ask jeonghan instead” you somewhat tease knowing the boy will object.

“you better not, of course i will be there as your date” he emphasises on the date and you can feel a blush creeping up to your cheeks

“yes you will. my dress is light blue” you state nonchalantly notifying the boy.

“bet you’ll look great, i’ll find a tie to match.”

his sudden compliment catches you completely off guard and its evident as you barely manage to let out a small ‘okay’ a few seconds late causing joshua to chuckle over on his end knowing he had this effect on you.

“bye y/n” he exclaimed before abruptly hanging up. 

you groan into a pillow frustrated wondering how you would get through the weekend, the answer should be like all the other times but you felt nervous nevertheless.

joshua eyed you intently watching you walk over to him with your dress flowing all princess like around you and every little detail such as the colour and the fitting of the stunning material complementing all your features.

“hi” you both breathed out at the same time making eachother giggle in unison.

“you look amazing” joshua smiles opening the door to his car on the passenger side, a gentlemanly courtesy from the one and only gentleman. you blush getting into the car ready to return a compliment to him as he gets in to the driver seat to drive you both to the venue, however nothing leaves your mouth. perhaps it was the nerves.

the drive is filled with joshua talking about his week with you commenting here and there whilst trying to avoid glancing over at him, nodding your head to the music playing quietly from the radio.

thankfully the journey wasn’t longer than twenty minute, at the hall you step out of the car only to be greeted with joshua offering you his arm which you shyly accepted either way as you walked in and began greeting your family with joshua beside you attracting stares left and right.

“y/n sweetheart!” your mother rushes up to you giving you a hug which made you untwine your arm from joshua’s to return it.

“i see you brought your handsome boyfriend” she winks causing joshua to widen his eyes and laugh at the suddenness of her compliment. you glanced up to him to see his cheeks flushed which you found endearing to say the least.

“you guys are sitting over there” she points over to a table a few steps away. “whenever you’re ready come join us” the last words are spoken and soon enough your mother is gone to deal with other business.

joshua turns to you, instinctively you turn around to face him.

“should we go sit down now?” he speaks out watching your gaze soften as you listened to him speak.

you nod so he reaches to hold your hand and leads the way to the table, the sudden action shocked you so you stopped at a halt making joshua stop with you.

“is something wrong?” he asks eyes showing worry.

“no... just- you’ve never done that before” you mutter looking down at your intertwined hands.

“sure i have, but i’m especially your date for tonight so i think i have the privilege to hold your hand even more.” he winks before continuing the way to the table and even pulling out your chair for you to sit making the adults at the table coo at his gentlemanliness.

the entire night joshua spent talking to you, making you laugh here and there at the little jokes he would throw in, hearts doing backflips unknown to one and other but you couldn’t help enjoy the company.

he left momentarily for the bathroom leaving you alone until another figure approached you tapping your shoulder to gain your attention you respond by turning around to see your childhood friend who you immediately stood up to greet the individual.

“seungcheol? it’s been a while!” you exclaim, eyes widening trying to adjust to the new appearance of your long time friend before pulling him into a hug.

“yeah we’ve both changed a bit clearly.” he chuckles looking down at his own suit once pulled away.

“sit, im sure my parents would love to see you again!” you speak out pointing towards the nearest chair as you sit down on your own.

joshua returned to see you in deep conversation with the boy unknown to him the pang of jealousy hit hard causing him to frown at the male at the center of your attention making you laugh like he was earlier. silently he approached taking a seat in the next vacant chair as his previous one was now occupied by the stranger.

it wasn’t long before you to noticed joshua’s presence and you wasted no time introducing the two to each other.

“joshua this is seungcheol, we grew up together and seungcheol this is my date joshua” you introduce the two boys to each other both of them passing on friendly smiles before turning their attention back to you.

“oh are you guys dating?” seungcheol asks genuinely curious.

you stutter unable to answer the sudden question however joshua speaks up anyways. “yeah we are” he reaches to hold your hand repeating the action that turned you into a flustered mess but you nod anyways going along with him.

“im happy for you y/n! i hope you both last a long time” 

seungcheol’s words had more of an effect on you two than expected and it was the same for joshua who you felt squeeze your hand gently.

“anyways, i’m going now but i’ll see you around?” seungcheol gives you both a little wave and you nod in return before watching him walk off. you turn around to joshua straight away only for the boy to let go of your hand and more immersed in a glass of wine.

“you’re gone red” you poke at his cheek snickering ever so slightly making joshua put down his treasured glass to look at you with a blank expression before turning away again. you huff getting up hoping for a slight change of expression from the boy but to your dismay - nothing.

a slow tune started playing and you glanced around to see guests getting up to join the slow dance at the centre of the hall. you sit back down only for joshua to get up this time and hold out his hand to you. puzzled, you give him a questioning look.

“dance with me” he mumbles and you dont waste anymore time giving into dancing with him despite your heart racing like crazy.

to be honest you could barely concentrate on dancing with joshuas hands resting on your waist with yours around his neck. his touch felt like fire and you couldn’t help but feel warm inside despite your nerves now skyrocketing.

“you haven’t given me much attention tonight” joshua spoke with a low tone down into your ear as you both swayed to the gentle music.

“w-what do you mean” you pull back slightly to see his face better but regret it almost immediately realising how close in proximity your faces were.

“i thought it was obvious.” he chuckled and you could feel your heart racing at a dangerous number of miles per minute. sure you were a little bit oblivious but you were scared of misunderstanding his words so you stayed silent not breaking eye contact waiting for him to continue which he did.

“i like you y/n” he muttered once again into your ear, you felt his breath fan your neck sending shivers down your spine and your cheeks burning. the fact that your feelings were not so unrequited brought a lot of shock to you but you couldn’t help the smile now taking over your expression out of happiness.

joshua examines your face searching for an kind of indication you were okay with his confession before setting his gaze onto your rosy lips. you dont hesitate before reaching up to connect your lips that went together perfectly.

the both of you pull away first aware of your surroundings and it wasnt long till both of you were betrayed by the visible blush forming.

the song finally came to a halt and joshua led you outside where it was quieter.

“so what do you say? we should date for real now right?” he’s close to you again and hoping you cant hear the pace of his heart.

“not how i expected to be asked out at someone elses wedding but yes dummy we should” you laugh out lifting up your hand to push back his hair messing it up as joshua’s arms find their way around your waist again pulling you closer to him.

“good” he whispers connecting your lips once again both of you smiling into the kiss feeling pure bliss and completely content with the events of the night.

[foronceleavemealone]

Long time no see

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

A/N: I feel like this is my favourite part so far. I mean, I don’t think the writing improved, but the the concept for this part seemed a lot easier to write for. Also I’m not a slut for sunsets and the golden hour, but who knows. I just think they’re neat. Also, I suggest you listen to Heart of Glass by Blondie before this. I do like that song a lot. I hope this part is enjoyable. I apologise for any mistakes.

Summary: OC and Javier explore the town and talk about relationships, cringy ones and the big ones.

Pairing: Javier Peña x OC

Genre: fluff

————————————

To say that he had a good night’s sleep would be questionable. It bothered him that all that was separating them was a wall. He could’ve walked to her door, knocked, she would’ve opened the door and then... And then what? What was he feeling exactly? He cared about her, that he was certain of. Ever since they became friends at the academy and later even more when they bacame trainee partners. It only seemed natural to care for a partner. But they weren’t partners anymore. They hadn’t been for a long time. They also didn’t see each other that often anymore. Yet he still cared about her. He still wanted her to be healthy, to be safe and secure, to be happy.

But what else? What were all of these other feelings and emotions? It wasn’t that he didn’t know what they were, he was just reluctant to face them. Did he...like her? That seems ridiculous, teenagers like each other, and he was a grown man. Did that mean he...loved her? He got scared at that thought.

It started off fine, but somewhere along the way he fell for her. He couldn’t tell when that happened, it just did. He wasn’t sure on what to do. It didn’t seem that she felt something for him. She was just nice with everyone, and since he was her partner they naturally spent more time together and that’s why she was sweet to him. He rationalized everything. And then she met that guy. Jeremy. They started dating and she seemed in love. Javi wasn’t going to ruin that for her, so he kept everything to himself. The second they moved up from just being trainees he agreed to a transfer and their ways parted. He thought that all of those feelings would go away. But they still kept in touch and they would run into each other at the HQ and with every meeting the feelings would wash over Javier once again.

And yesterday. The whole day. From his aunts thinking they were a couple to their conversation on the swing and how everything ended up. It was a lot to take in. He thought about how they parted ways. Gosh... Should he had done something? But she was in a vulnerable state. Yes, it was a good decision, she was hurting and he didn't want to bring any confusion to the table.

So he woke up feeling a bit groggy. He looked at the clock. It was already 10am. Considering his usual schedule he had overslept. Besides, he said he'd help his dad around the property and he knew his dad was an early bird so he either went out without him or he's still waiting for him.

He got up, got dressed. He walked past her room and got the urge to check up on her, but supressed this urge. He was walking down the stairs when he heard music playing. 'Is that...?' he thought to himself. It was exactly what he thought it was. Heart of glass by Blondie was playing. He reached the first floor. The music was coming from the kitchen and that's where he headed. What he saw brought a huge smile on his face. She was dancing and singing along while cooking something. He leaned on the door frame and admired this moment.

"In between~ What I find is pleasing and I’m feeling fine~ Love is so confusing,, there’s no peace of mind~ If I fear I’m losing you it’s just no good~ You teasing like you do~” she sang along and swayed her hips to the music. She did a spin and saw Javier standing there. Her cheeks turned red and she turned down the music a little bit going back to the pan where she was cooking some bacon.

"Someone’s in a good mood" he said still smiling.

"I did sleep a bit better. But you weren't supposed to see all of... that"

"Can't blame you. I love 'Heart of glass' too" they both chuckle "have you seen my dad?"

"Oh he said he had some work to do on the property and left about an hour ago"

"He could've woken me up" he mumbled to himself.

"We decided to let you sleep in and have a peaceful day. Afterall yesterday was intense" she plated him bacon and eggs and poured a cup of coffee.

"Wow, you didn't have to do this" he really didn't expect something like this.

"Oh it's nothing” she leaned on the counter with a cup of tea in her hands “it’s a thanks for yesterday”

Suddenly he was reminded of all of the events.

“So... what are your plans for today?” he asked trying to avoid all of his thoughts.

“Thought I’d just go explore the town a bit. Your dad already showed a lot, but I figured I’d go over the places on my own. Maybe I’ll find something interesting on the way”

He thought for a moment, drinking his coffee.

“Why don’t I join you. You could use some local guidance” 

“Ah, yeah, sure” she smilled and to him it seemed that she even blushed a little.

————————————

She did sleep surprisingly well. She felt such a relief after yesterday’s conversation. At least for once, she felt calm. Though she knew this was not going to last. It was a bigger issue that one conversation couldn’t just magically fix, but it was at least something, a first step, if you will.

But the way they split up. That moment kept replaying in her mind until she fell asleep and it was the very first thing she thought of when she woke up. And oh gosh, the fact that he saw her dancing in the kitchen, the next time they saw each other after such an evening...

“You ready?” her thoughts were interupted by Javier jingling his car keys.

“Yeah” 

————————————

They spent hours exploring. Well, she was exploring, Javier was guiding. He was a pretty good guide. He showed her some interesting places, some of his favourite spots. She teased him about the spots and the facts which his dad had told her of on their drive from the airport. She loved how he would smile, a bit shyly, with a shallow dimple forming in his cheek and wrinkles forming next to his eyes. 

“We should get something to eat” he said looking at his watch.

“We should, it’s been hours since we started our crusade. How about there?” she pointed to the same diner Chucho had told her about “Your first-date-diner” she grinned.

“Hey, not if you tease me the whole time we’re there” he said smiling “I don’t think I can take any more teasing today”

“Okay, okay. I’ll be nice” she patted his shoulder.

————————————

“No spice this time?” Javier asked trying to tease her this time.

“I think I’ll manage without the extra spice. So tell me about your first date at this place”

“I thought we were done with the teasing”

“I’m not teasing, I’m just asking. I’ll share my first date story if you share yours” she intertwined her fingers.

“It’s not much of a story. I was 14, she was 15, my cousin’s classmate. And I really liked her so I asked her out” he laughed and rubbed his left temple “my dad drove us here. We awkwardly shared a milkshake and didn’t talk for an hour, And that’s pretty much it”

“Wow, going for older ladies, huh” she smiled and saw him squint his eyes at her  “alright, I won’t tease you anymore”

“So what about your first date?”

“Well.. I was 18. And I went on a date with my parents’ friends’ son. We went to see a movie, but he was a bit too handsy for my liking, at least for a first date” she looked up at Javier and saw that he was staring with fear and sorrow in his eyes “oh no” she shook her hand “he just was touchy and he wanted to make out through out the whole movie. He didn’t go any further”

“Thank god” he sighed in relief and brushed his hand through his hair. He in a way felt angry at this guy. He wanted to put him in his right place for treating her this way. 

“So not great dates” she smiled and sat back.

“Yeah, pretty bad ones”

They sat at the diner for a while, talking about cringy dates.This in a way felt like a date itself, but both of them were clueless. The golden hour was about to start, Javier looked out the window.

“Do you want to...go watch the sunset?” 

Her face lit up.

“Oh that would be so nice!” she smiled brightly.

“Ok, I’ll pay up”

“No, let me pay. Or how about we split the bill”

“No, I’ll pay. Consider this a compensation for your horrible first date” he pulled out his wallet. 

She was about to say something about how this wasn’t a date, but she kept it to herself, processing the thought. She went outside to wait for Javier next to his car. She loved the golden hour. It always made her feel warm in a way. Everything just seemed a lot more beautiful. With that thought she turned to look at Javier, who was still in the diner, paying for the meal. She admired the way he looked. He started walking then suddenly stopped. She saw a woman who stood in front of him. She guessed they knew each other by their smiles. There were two little girls with her. They didn’t talk for long, it seemed like they exchanged greetings and how are yous and how’s it beens. Javier came out and unlocked the car. They both got in the car not saying anything. She didn’t want to ask who that woman was, it really wasn’t her business, but still, she was curious.

“That was Lorraine” Javi said as if he sensed her thoughts.

“Oh” 

She knew who Lorraine was, she knew about her, but she had never seen her. Javier began a realtionship with her after their trainee days, so Javier metioned her in their conversations when they would run into each other. She was invited to their wedding, but she had a family funeral to attend, someone from her husband’s side, so she couldn’t go. She felt an array of emotions when she found out he was getting married. She felt happy for him, but also unbelievably sad at the same time. When she heard that Javier didn’t show up she felt relieved, but also she was worried about him. 

“I know a place where we can go watch the sunset” Javier snapped her back into the moment.

“Oh, ok”

————————————

The drive wasn’t that long, but it was silent, only with the radio playing. Suddenly ‘Heart of glass’ started playing on the radio.

~Once I had love and it was a gas ~ Soon turned out I had a heart of glass ~ Seemed like the real thing, only to find ~ Mu-

“We’re here” Javi said and stopped the car. 

She got out of the car and looked around. It was very beautiful, the scenery was magnificent.

“Wow” is all she said and leaned on the front of the car.

“Yeah. I know” he said leaning on the car next to her “one of my favourite spots. Was saving it for last” 

They stayed silent for a while, just taking in the way the sun made everything lemon-tea-coloured. 

“Sorry I wasn’t at your wedding” she suddenly said.

Javier looked at her and chuckled.

“Don’t be, you had more important things to do...besides you didn’t miss much” he looked off into the distance. “I’m sorry I didn’t come to your wedding”

Indeed, he didn’t attend her wedding either. He wanted to, well, not really, but he was planning to, however at that time he was on a serious mission and his boss wouldn’t give him any days off, and as he didn’t have much of a reputation yet, he didn’t dare asking for a few days off. He did feel relieved, but also upset. 

“Oh it’s ok. We’re both even. Besides” she looked at him “you didn’t miss much either” she smiled.

“At least both of you showed up for the wedding” 

“Sometimes I wish one of us had not” 

Javier looked at her, but she was looking off into the distance. 

“I’m sorry” he said silently.

“Don’t be. Jeremy’s the one who should have apologised. He was the one who cheated”

“There’s something wrong with him if he cheated on you” is all Javi said.

They both felt remarkably tranquil, even after such a conversation. They were silent until the sun set and it was the magic hour. 

“Did you love her?” she suddenly asked making Javier jump a little bit “Lorraine, I mean”

He felt a lump in his throat.

“I...” he cleared his throat “No. I don’t think I did” 

She looked at him, she thought she saw his eyes sparkle, they were watery and that made her upset, her heart couldn’t take it anymore.

“Oh, Javi...” she caressed his cheek. Her eyes were getting watery too.

“In fact, the only woman I’ve ever loved” he looked straight into her eyes “is you” 

She brushed away a tear that fell from his eyes and ever so gently kissed him. His lips were soft as he kissed back. It felt like snow in a way. The way snow falls in the night, softly, slowly, calmly, heavenly.

They pulled away too look at each other. He stepped a bit closer and cupped her cheek. He leaned in and kissed her again. This kiss was longer, a lot deeper. It seemed like all those years of pushing and pulling poured into that one moment. 

They once again pulled away from each other to catch a breath. She brushed the sides of her lower lip. They were silent for a moment.

“Maybe we should” she gestured to the car “go back” 

“Yeah” he brushed his hand through his hair “it’s getting late”

The drive back was silent, only, once again the radio was playing. Suddenly, not for the first time that day, ‘Heart of glass’ started playing.

‘Gosh fucking damn it, aren’t there any other songs. It’s past its popularity’ Javier thought to himself.

~Once I had love and it was devine ~ Soon found out I was losing my mind~

She switched the radio station. He slightly looked at her. 

When they got back to the house, the lights were still on. 

“Hey, haven’t seen you all day. Did you kids have fun?” Chucho asked when they walked in. It looked like he was getting ready to go to bed, with a milk glass in his hand. 

They looked at each other.

“We did, pops” Javi said and patted Chucho’s shoulder.

“Yeah, we did. Javi showed me around the town. It was really nice” she said as she poured herself a glass of water and drank it whole, no stops. 

“It was such a nice sunset. I hope you stopped to watch it” Chucho said smiling. 

“We did, it was...breathtaking” Javier said and looked at her. They locked eyes.

“Well, I should go to bed” she quickly said cleaning out her water glass where she had left a lipstick mark “again, thank you for your hospitality” she said as she put her hand on Chucho’s shoulder.

“No problem, darling”

“Goodnight” she said and quickly walked out of the kitchen.

“Goodnight” Chucho called out and looked at Javier. Javi avoided his dad’s eyes and sat at the kitchen table “that bad?” Chucho asked taking a beer out of the fridge and handing it to Javi.

“No, it wasn’t bad” Javi took a sip “I hope it wasn’t”

[hs-devote]

16. W O M A N

Moodboard // Content // Masterlist

Disclaimer:

All characters and situation in this story are fictitious. Resemblance to any person living or dead is only God knows.

Previous chapter; In his daydream, he saw them in black and white standing on the altar – staring at each other deeply. Ignoring all eyes on them. He saw himself lifting her veil once the priest announced them officially as a married couple, and kissing her so dearly. He saw the night skies were so clear and they were dancing under the starry night, barefoot in the soft sand. The sound of wild waves being their music for dancing all night long until their feet hurt. He saw them being the happiest couple and life happily until eternity.Was that what he wants?

16. WOMAN

The reception had just begun when they made an appearance. Clementia who was sitting beside Anne, immediately snickered her brother when their mother was unaware of their presence. The young lady squinted her eyes with arms being folded, her body leaned a little to Harry.

“Where were you?”

“Playing with the waves over there,” Harry said while undoing his jacket suit and putting it behind his chair, “We don’t miss anything, right?”

“You missed the entrance and now it’s speech time.”

“H, I just realise I didn’t see Lucas the whole time. Did he come?” Y/N asked curiously, eyes looking at the table where Mandy and her mother sat across.

"He couldn't make it since he has a business meeting in Greece and that has to do with Erskine's situation now. I feel bad but he insisted. He couldn't cancel it either so we had no choice." He murmured, "I think I should give him a reward for that."

Y/N just nodded before turning her head to the new married couple in the front who’s listening to their friend’s speech. And again, Harry’s focus wasn’t on the couple. However, he had a dreamy stare to Y/N. He was just thinking about his future, with her.

He wanted a future with her, of course. He couldn’t imagine someone else. He wanted her. Only her.

In his mind, he couldn’t understand why he was so whipped, having his fingers wrapped around her.

Then, his mind rolled to where when she played with his nieces and nephews back then in Manchester. How good and gentle she was with them. How the kids adored her. He could see how loving she would towards their future children.

God, just thinking like that made him blush.

He blinked when the food was served, he didn't even realise his hand was holding a glass of Pinot. He wasn't aware that much missed a lot of things to think about what he wanted with Y/N for the future. He even missed the speech and toast for sake!

"H? Are you okay? You were spacing out a lot lately?" Y/N asked in concern after Harry rubbed her face. Honestly, she felt a little guilty for not paying a bit of attention to her boyfriend since her eyes focused on the new married couple in front.

“I'm fine, baby. Don't worry.” He kissed her cheek, “You just look so beautiful tonight. I'm overwhelmed.”

She scoffed softly, trying to hide the red tinge on her cheeks. “Don't be spacing out again. We still have dancing, and the bouquet toss!”

He frowned, “Oh. They already cut the cake?”

“Just look at your plate, H.”

Y/N laughed when Harry patted his forehead after he looked down. Feeling stupid for missed a lot of time. Sighing, he played the fork, “Why do I feel stupid?”

“This is the first time I heard Harry admits that he's stupid.” Clementia piped in while propping her chin with hands, glancing at her brother. “What a confession.”

“Heyy...” he squinted his eyes, “Don't be rude.”

His little sister only stuck out her tongue before digging into her food, rolling her eyes when she saw her brother shook his head to her.

“Uncle Hawwy!”

A familiar little voice disturbed him a little when he was enjoying his food. And it was a pet peeve for him if someone disturbed him when he was eating. But, exceptions for Y/N, Anne, and Clementia. This little girl was also an exception. She was a child after all, and Harry loved her no matter what.

"Hi, Lucy." He smiled after wiping his mouth, looking down at his niece who was standing beside his chair. The sweet little girl looked cute in a periwinkle sundress and flower crown sitting on her head. He immediately picked her up and let her sat down on his thigh.

“Why are you alone? Where's mummy and daddy?” he asked while holding the child from falling over.

Lucy clapped her hands, “Mummy with Peter and.. and I asked daddy if I could see you and daddy said yes!”

“Mummy is with Peter? How's him, Lu?”

Peter was Lucy's little brother. The second child of Lisa and Thomas was born last month and Harry and Y/N couldn't come to see him the day he was born because of work. Both of them just met the baby boy last night when having dinner together.

"Peter sleeps much, I can't play with him yet. Mummy said Peter has to go to sleep soon and I come here before I go back." Lucy rambled softly, her tiny fingers were playing with Harry's ring.

“I think Uncle Harry is happy to see you now, Lu.” Y/N joined the conversation, “You're his favourite little girl!”

Lucy nodded frantically, “I'm happy too! And.. and uncle Harry is my favourite!”

“Oh, Lucy..” Harry beamed, “I think Daddy is calling you, Lu. Look over there!”

The little girl looked in the direction Harry was pointing out, saw her father waving his hand to her. For a moment, Lucy looked up to Harry before getting off his lap and running toward her father. Not forgetting she kissed her favourite uncle's cheek.

“Cutie pie,” Harry mumbled before digging back to his food.

“Just like her uncle.” Y/N replied.

“Like me, huh?” he wiggled his eyebrow playfully while Y/N just rolled her eyes, shushed him off. Dinner was quick but everything was amazing. Harry was so full and all he did just leaned back in his chair, seeing Kelly and David getting ready for their first dance.

"You ate a lot tonight. Don't forget to work out." Y/N teased him while her palm rubbing his clothed stomach. She knew Harry didn't like it when his stomach bloated. If he felt his stomach isn't what he wants, he would freak out and immediately rush to work out. He kept his stomach toned in perfect shape, yet his hips were a little pudgy.

He leaned into her, whispering something unthinkable. "Does sex count as work out?"

Horny much, I see.. her inner goddess winked smugly

"Yes, it both makes you sweat. But, no." She snorted, pinching his bicep before returning to see the bride and groom dancing in the centre. A small smile drew out from her lips when the band played a familiar song from Christina Perri. A song that was a movie soundtrack, a mainstream one but still held its own meaning especially at a wedding like this. The scene in front of her was beautiful. Kelly and her husband couldn't help their smile and their happiness radiated all around. They always kissed each other whenever they had the chance. When it came to the father daughter's dance, the mood turned into an emotional one even Y/N also teared up when Kelly smiled softly while wiping her father's happy tears.

Eventually, all the wedding guests came down to the floor. The band still playing slow romantic songs before later changing to a faster tempo. Harry, of course, didn't want to miss the opportunity.

“May I have this dance, my lady?”

Y/N looked at her boyfriend reach out a hand to her. She looked up a little to look at him then smiling and took his hand, “Of course, my lord.”

Standing up from her chair, she let Harry led her to the dance floor. Good thing the dance floor was big enough and there weren't many guests, so they could move quite freely without having to bump to someone else. Harry instantly wrapped his arms around Y/N's waist once they got there while she put her hands around his neck. As if the cue, the band played one of Harry's favourite songs all the time. He hummed softly to the rhythm, pressing their forehead together.

When I first saw you, I saw love And the first time you touched me, I felt love

Both of them began to sway to the music, with eyes now staring at each other. Maybe people didn't see or pay attention. Harry sang the song to her in a small voice, with his eyes still stared at her lovingly. Y/N swooned, making her rest her head against his neck while the man continued to hum the song in her ear.

She felt the goosebumps when her boyfriend hit the chorus with his surprisingly beautiful voice, closing her eyes as she felt her back being rubbed. Y/N never knew Harry could sing this beautifully, making her remember the first time she heard Harry hummed to the song in the car for the first time they went out for a meeting together. And she thought if Harry didn't become a businessman, he could become a singer or artist. He was handsome, charming, kind, and had a nice voice. Almost the perfect package.

I'm so glad we made it Look how far we've come my baby

She snuggled deeper into his neck when he hit the last lyric. Sighed happily feeling his lips kissing her earlobe. Harry grinned when she kissed his cheek after they let go of each other.

"That was beautiful, H." She stroked his cheek, "Thank you."

“Thank you, darling.” He hummed, “I don't even realise we're barefoot.”

“Oh?” Y/N instantly looked down, only to find their foot in nothing but naked, with matching nude nail polish.

“We're in the beach, so..” she shrugged, “I want to take a drink. Do you want one?”

Harry refused, then letting her to find the nearest stall. As far as she could see, Y/N only found some alcoholic drinks yet she just wanted something light. She just hoped Harry didn't wait too long since she had to walk a bit away from the dance floor. Lucky for her, she immediately found a non-alcoholic bar. Among the beverages offered, she chose watermelon mocktail.

Even though she wasn't close to the dance floor, she could still see Harry from a distance. He was talking with his cousin, laughing and joking around. Ignoring the people behind him who were ready because the DJ started playing fast-paced songs.

“Y/N?”

Her head turned to the voice that called her. The gentle voice was very recognisable yet began to fade in her memory.

“Elliott?”

There he was. Standing in front of her, as confused as she was. Elliot was her previous boyfriend. The one who broke up with her because he was bored; she was boring to him. The man also wore a suit, which means he was also the wedding guest – not just a regular hotel guest. Y/N didn't expect to meet him again after more than a year from their last encounter.

Flexing her jaw, she didn't know what to say. She was too surprised to meet him again. All she did was looking at him with a disbelieving stare.

“How are you, Y/N? I haven't seen you in a long time.” Elliott smiled, looking at his ex-girlfriend in front of him.

Y/N forced a smile, nodding slightly. “Erm.. I'm fine. I didn't know you were.. invited?”

“David is my co-worker,” he nodded, “How about you? Which one is your.. friend?”

She put the glass to the empty space next to her, feeling a bit weird to see Elliott being nice to her. The last time they met, he was very annoying and selfish. Now, he was being good with her – made the situation a bit awkward.

“Kelly is my.. friend?”

Well, she wasn't sure. Kelly was her boyfriend's cousin and both of them only met once on Harry's birthday. It was the best answer, for now, she didn't want Elliott knew too much about her life.

Elliott laughed, "The world is so narrow, huh? And we were being met again here. It seems the universe really wants us to reunite."

“We don't know how the world works, do we?” she drew a nervous laugh, “It's nice to see you again, Elliott. But, I have to go now.”

Y/N hadn't gotten chance to get far away yet and her hands were held back by him, making her stumble a bit. He pulled her back in front of him, his hand still holding her wrist. She took a glance before glaring at him.

“Where are you going? The night is still going on.” Elliott scoffed, hands gripping her tightly.

Carefully, she tried to loose from his grip but it did nothing. His hand was too tight on her. She couldn't stay be here any longer, leaving Harry alone and making him worry. He must be looking for her now.

“I'm sorry Elliott but I have to go now. I can't leave my bo–”

“Oh, c'mon, Y/N! We can ditch this shit and go to my room.” He sneered, “I miss you. And we–”

“Darling?”

His voice made her froze. A second later she felt a familiar arm wrapped around her waist. Without tilting her head, Y/N knew that Harry was now standing beside her. She could see Harry's fingers releasing her wrist from Elliott's grip.

“That's not how you treat a woman, mate.” He spoke. His voice was deep and firm. It was very clear he didn't like how rude Elliott was to his girlfriend. Y/N didn't know that Harry had been watching them from the beginning. He thought they know each other so he let them be. But, he started to feel strange when his girlfriend showed an uncomfortable face.

Elliott grunted, “He's my ex-girlfriend. It's none of your business, dude.”

Squinting his eyes, Harry gave him a pouty face with an arched eyebrow. He remembered Y/N once told him about her previous boyfriend. The one who was bored with her. It didn't occur to him that he would meet this man here. He admitted Elliott had a good face but was very far from his attitude earlier.

“You're her ex-boyfriend and I'm her boyfriend. And it's crystal clear if you're rude to her, it becomes my concern.” He deadpanned, “And that wasn't nice to force her to go to your hotel room if she wasn't interested.”

“You're dating him, Y/N?” Elliott asked her arrogantly, “You're dating a rich spoiled brat and become a gold digger?  And not forget he's also a porn star. Do you know he has a sex tape with a sexy model?”

Y/N snapped her face, throwing a death glare to her pathetic ex-boyfriend. How come he did say such a thing of her? Of Harry?

That was crossing a line and reminded her that Elliott was still Elliott. He would never change. For a bit moment, she questioned her ignorance a little for having a relationship with this kind of man back then.

“You have no right to speak like that, Elliott,” pointing her finger at his face, she emphasized every her words, “Forget what we ever had. No more chance for us.”

Elliott rolled his eyes, “I'm sure if you're not dating him, you'll definitely want to come back to me. Rich men like him will get bored easily and will just throw you away, even if you beg for his dick, he won't look at you again.”

The situation got even more uncomfortable when Y/N felt Harry clenching his fist behind her back. She must quickly separate the two of them before it's too late. She didn't want Marcel to come and beat the shit of her ex-boyfriend out. She didn't want chaos just because of this problem and ruin someone's wedding.

“And I think he would prefer his dick being deep in those models' cunt than you. I bet they're tastier than yours too, Y/N.. and eventually left you behind.” He shrugged, “Besides, he'll fall into poverty because if I heard correctly, many of your clients ran away.” then he turned his head to Harry, “Is that right, Mr Styles?

It happened so fast but Y/N could still prevent it. Harry was clenching his teeth, hands grabbed Elliott's collar rough and tightly. He pulled his now enemy to him closer, staring fixedly like an eagle. “Watch your mouth or else, I'll do something you'll regret.”

"Harry, please. He's not worth your energy." She murmured in his ear, guiding his hand to let go of Elliott. Harry let go of him with a slight feel of hesitant. After all, this rotten man wasn't that important.

“Don't ever show your face in front of us anymore, Elliott.” Taking Harry's hand, she pulled him away. “C'mon, H.”

Y/N wasn't sure about the person she's dragging away now. This could be Marcel, or Harry. One thing she noticed, his voice became heavier and deeper when he bluffed Elliott, also his pronunciation became faster. However, Marcel wouldn't just listen to her. He would beat Elliott right then and there. She definitely would miss the dance only to make sure her boyfriend was okay. Ignoring the guests rocking to the beat of the song.

“Are you okay?” she asked gently, hands rubbing his shoulder. They have returned to their table. Anne and Clementia weren't in there. When her eyes were searching for them, the mother and daughter were dancing with the guests. Mandy and her mother, who also joined in their table, weren't also nowhere to be found.

"I'm fine." That's all Harry answered her. The man seemed calmer than before making her let out a relieved breath. But, when they looked at each other, it wasn't Harry that she saw. She was staring at Marcel now with his familiar darker eyes. For a second, she wondered why Marcel could be this calm. Where's Harry? Was he too weak?

Y/N couldn't show Marcel immediately that she knew he wasn't Harry. She had to pretend that she thought Harry was there. She didn't want to, if Marcel knew that she realised he wasn't her boyfriend, would be another issue tonight.

If Marcel played along as Harry, she would too.

“I think we can join them on the dance floor over there?” Marcel spoke out of nowhere while pointing at the crowd with his chin. Y/N was a little surprised of that because Marcel wouldn't normally do that kind of normal thing. She wanted to go down dancing with people honestly, but it seemed better if they're staying here. The dance floor was too full after all.

“The most I want to do that, there's no place for us there. Too full of people.” She refused calmly, “But, I'm up for the bouquet toss.”

"Do you really want those flowers? I can buy them for you without having to fight with other women, you know." He shrugged, thanking a butler after pouring him a Gin.

"A bouquet toss has a special meaning, H. That's why a woman will likely to fight each other for the bouquet. But, I'm not like that. If I got that, so it be. And if I didn't get that, no problem." She smiled, not only realising Marcel thanking the butler also his sweet gesture offering to buy a flower for her.

Y/N wondered how long Marcel would be there. All he did was nothing but nice and sweet to her. It wasn't like usual Marcel. However, if he could be nice like this, no emotion he was feeling right now, right? And why couldn't Harry come back soon?

"They're getting ready for the toss. Do you want to go upfront?" Marcel asked before sipping his drink, eyes staring deeply at her. Deep down inside of him, he shook his head of how easy for him to fool her now.

If he knew Y/N knew...

“Sure.”

Y/N once again flattered when Marcel stood up and accompanied her closer to the bride who was ready to do the toss. Many women stood behind Kelly, taking a swing so they could get the flower. Everyone cheered as the bride tossed the bouquet and who would have thought Harry, or Marcel, got it. He instantly gave it to Y/N, making her giggle and reflexively gave him a quick peck on the cheek as a thank. Even she didn't expect the bouquet to fall into her boyfriend's hands.

After the bouquet toss, the DJ back at played the music, making everyone dance and rocking to the rhythm again. No a different from the couple. Since Marcel was nice to her tonight, Y/N thought of treating him a dance together remembering earlier he was like asking her to dance. It was better since the elders have started to leave the place considering the night was getting late. There weren't too many people there, and the youths became more even wild as the hours got late.

Right after the bride and groom announcing their exit. Marcel asked Y/N to ditch the party since he was getting bored. She agreed eventually and thinking they were going to call it the night. But, suddenly the thought of Marcel being the one who would sleep next to her tonight spinning around her head. She didn’t know when Harry could get his place back. However, they didn’t return to their room. Marcel pulled her toward the lobby and stepping a foot into a bar that was still open. Not many visitors there, only a few since it was already midnight.

“I thought we were going to rest?” Y/N asked when sitting at the barstool, her hand put the bouquet beside her.

Marcel shrugged while rolling up his sleeves to elbows, made his tattooed left arm visible in stark contrast to his ink-clean right arm. “I couldn’t drink too much in there, so I’ll be indulging here.”

She understood what he meant. Marcel wanted to get drunk, which she didn't know if this was a bad idea or not. All she knew, she couldn't stop him yet she had to be careful not to get drunk too.

“Can I get Tequila, please? And… what do you want?” Marcel asked when a bartender came to them. But, he beat her first and instantly ordered the same thing before she gave the answer. It only took a moment for the bartender to come with their drinks. Now, two glass of Tequila served in front of them.

“This is straight Tequila.” Y/N mumbled, watching Marcel sipped his Tequila.

“I don’t remember ordering another drink, darling.” His sarcastic comment made her rolled her eyes, “The best Tequila comes from Mexico. Do it straight, don’t mix. That’s how you drink it.” He added afterwards, looking over Y/N who still had her eyes fixated on him.

Y/N chuckled before taking a sip of hers. The burning rich and tastier carried the aftertaste, she could drink this a lot but she chose not tonight. As if Marcel could read her mind, the man smirked and went back to order another one for the two of them. He wanted to get a little bit tipsy tonight and no one could stop him.

“I have one thing I’m curious about, you know?” Y/N sighed after downed another one. Her eyes watching the third glass Marcel had finished, she didn’t even remember how many times Marcel had ordered the same kind of alcohol.

“About what?” he asked, his hand now pouring Casa Noble from its bottle to his shot. One thing she learned, Marcel would go hard for Tequila. He didn’t order another alcoholic drink, only Tequila caught his eye.

“You were mad earlier, but Marcel didn’t show up.” She tested the water, “Even if he shows up, I’m sure he would beat Elliott.”

“That’s the thing Marcel will do, darling. He would never let those who upset him roam free.” Marcel played softly. Really really soft. It was like not Marcel who was usually full of emotion, he sounded so gentle and dignified. Like her Harry.

She missed Harry, and didn’t know until when Marcel would pretend like this. If she didn’t look carefully through his darker eyes, she would think that this was Harry. Maybe she should even be more vigilant since Marcel was smart to trick everyone. She also didn’t know, how much time she spent with him where she thought it was Harry.

“Are you sure?” she challenged him, “I think Marcel also has a soft spot despite the anger he always showed?” her eyes now stared deadly at him, smirking silently as she sipped her drink – watching how Marcel looked a little disturbed.

“Marcel grew out of feeling angry. Why he might have a certain soft spot?” he scoffed, “He would laugh at himself if that happened.”

“I don’t know. Maybe something made him change or would change. But, I don’t know him so I can’t talk much.”

“Let’s not talk about him.” He murmured before taking another shot, “It made me uncomfortable.”

To be honest, Marcel didn't want to talk about it just so that Y/N wouldn't get suspicious. Harry would have done the same if his girlfriend kept talking about someone who was burdening his life. He enjoyed his current place and didn't want things to fall apart because of the few words that may be slipped. He still didn't want to let Harry back. He loved Y/N's company and didn't want it to end yet since almost he never had a civil conversation with a stranger.

A stranger?

No, Y/N wasn’t a stranger. She was more than that.

The conversation kept going, both of them had no idea how much the drink got into their body. Y/N also didn’t really remember what they were talking about because she was already getting tipsy. But, what was clear, they talked like normal friends.

"That's enough. You've had too much. Let's go back." She spoke while preventing Marcel who was about to down another. He was already intoxicated, and she didn't want to take any bigger risks. Enough for her to let Marcel do whatever he wants.

"That was good." Marcel hummed, not revolting when Y/N pulled his hand. He just stunned when he saw she asked for the bill. His subconscious mind told him to give her his credit card knowing how expensive that shit. He grinned after she returned his card with a pouty face, thanking the bartender, and dragged him out the bar.

Walking back to their room was quite time-consuming. It was one at midnight, the atmosphere was a bit spooky plus the whole road was only lit by dim lights with towering trees on either side of them. They could have asked the hotel staff to drive them in a golf cart, but who was still awake in the middle of darkness like this?

Drunk Marcel wasn't so different from Harry. He was more clingy and touchy to her, not doing anything funny – silently holding her hand. His free hand swayed her bouquet back and forth, with sometimes smelling the freshness of the flowers. When they arrived, Y/N led him to go first and let the man threw himself onto the soft mattress and the bouquet was just put in the foyer floor.

“I’ll clean up first. And you, don’t fall asleep before changing.” She poked his cheek before disappearing behind the bathroom door. Marcel got up before shaking his head, removing the suit jacket and tossed it into the nearest chair. He frowned after realising that his girlfriend hadn’t come out of the bathroom after thirty minutes. Right before he went to check on her, the bathroom door opened and showed Y/N wrapped only in a white fluffy towel.

“I forget where I put the bathrobe,” she smiled shyly, “you go next.”

Without a word, Marcel rose up and immediately went into the bathroom. When he walked by her, he couldn’t lie the spark desire when his eyes stole a little glance at the woman. Her fresh showered skin looked smooth and inviting, that’s what made him burning inside.

No one to blame but the drink..

It didn't take long for him to take a shower. When he exited the bathroom already with grey thin shirt and black boxer. His eyes caught Y/N's figure standing in front of the bed rubbing body butter on her leg. If she knew, he was thinking something dirty of her when he was showering. Imagining how sweet her against him.

Screw that.

Y/N’s heart leapt when a pair of arms wrapped around her waist. She sighed as Marcel sniffed her neck, her fingertips rubbing his knuckles. Flinching a bit when he peppered a kiss down her throat.

“You’re like a ghost,” she whispered, “startling me.”

Marcel didn’t say anything yet still feeling the delicate of her skin, hands began to fondle her sides. Y/N couldn’t think straight, the drink she had earlier still left a strong effect on him. Maybe she wasn’t as drunk as him, but her mind was already digressing. She knew he wasn’t Harry, she wanted to refuse him but her body told otherwise. Just by kissing her throat, he managed to make her wet.

“H..”

Marcel smirked, scoffing silently at how innocent this woman who was enjoying his touch. He just hummed, running down his finger underneath her panties. His smile was smug, bragging about how fast he made Y/N wet down there. She choked after his fingers pinching her clit, toying them and flicking afterwards. Her body jolted and before she knew, he flipped her body around and smashing their lips together. Her hands instantly tugging his shirt as his fingers working on her nude bralette.

Both of them didn't exchange a word, only their clicking tongues be the sound of their night. Marcel's eyes hungrily looked at Y/N' naked body, didn't wait too long to make him take the woman slammed on the mattress. It was like her lips now was an addiction for him, making him quickly hovering her with just in his boxer. To Y/N, she couldn't think of anything else. All she knew was how the lust consumed her, missing his touch every time her skin losing the warmth of his.

While Y/N smelt sweet like a peach, thanks to the toothpaste, Marcel was more fresh mint. He had no idea how could she get peach-scented toothpaste. It was new, yet refreshing.

She moaned in pleasure as their tongue collided together, whimpering afterwards when his hot tongue dragged down to her chest, paused briefly at her breasts to sucked them, then down to her belly. He began to bite down until he arrived at his destination. His saliva already drooling his tongue, making her sigh when the wet sensation touching her belly button down until her centre.

Marcel wasted no time to teasing her bundle of nerve with his tongue, while his both palms rubbing her nipple. She cried out as her body trembling, hands squeezed the crisp white sheet. She didn't even aware how long Marcel been working down there, her body felt like in flame and sweat started to pour down her temple. Gasping harshly, she squinted her eyes when the two fingers were rolling in and out of her.

"Oh my god.." her voice was torn between pleasure and wanting to stop. Her common-sense cursed herself for grant Marcel fuck her, but she seemed unable to control what her body wanted and needed.

Him.

“You’re so tight.” Marcel grunted on her inner thigh, mouth sucking the skin until red mark left. His fingers still stimulating her, ensuring she was wet enough before his length balls deep on her. He knew how much she and Harry had sex, and they were both pretty wild with the intercourse. When her cunt felt tight in his fingers, he was pleased.

God damn, she felt so good.

His hands now flew to hold her thighs, spreading them open – gripping her ankles roughly while he spat on her cunt, letting his saliva added the wetness before he licked them.

“Ah! Ah!”

Her sobbing pleasure made Marcel motivated more to faster his tongue movement on her. His hands gripped her ankles even more to stay still. Y/N choked on her breath, back arching – the sensation was too much. She brought her eyes to look down, finding Marcel ravishing her cunt, cried even more when her clit being bitten.

“Love it, baby?” he hummed, kissing her clit.

Nodding, she threw her head back when he nudged her opening with his nose, "Yes, yes.."

“Glad to hear.”

All of sudden, she gasped when Marcel pulled her – flipping her body with her ass high in the air. Her body weight was supported by elbows resting on the mattress, forehead pressing the pillow. She blinked her eyes when he put Harry’s cross necklace on her, leaving the pendant dangling between her breast. She flinched as his skinny fingers teasing her hard nipple purposely.

“My goddess,” he whispered, “the beautiful sin.”

“Ah!” she hissed right after he slapped her bum cheeks, but the stinging was nothing than the lust on her. She gulped when Marcel running his member up and down her cunt, testing her patience.

“How does it feel?” he teased her, “Just one push and you’ll be in the heaven.”

“Yes, yes. Give me that, please.”

“Beg for me, darling.” He hummed, ducked his head down – biting her left bum cheek, “And I’ll give that to you.”

“Please, please. I want it,” she mewled, “I’m aching.”

“You’re aching? Poor baby,” he cooed, “fine then.”

Marcel slowly thrust his member into her, holding it gently to make it easier. So painfully slow, made Y/N whined yet gasping for air since it felt so good. He sighed in relief after he was buried deep on her. Both of them said nothing, only their harsh and panting breath on the air before Marcel pulled out in slow and thrusting sloppily.

“Oh! Oh!” her eyes rolled back at how rough he was fucking her. His pace was sloppy and hard, their skin slapping together angrily. He grasped her hips roughly, squeezing them hard.

“Love it, baby? Love it hard and rough, yeah? Just like this, huh?” he cooed, slapping her bum cheek again. His teeth nipped her hips before holding her back head.

“Yes, yes. Oh my god,” she panted, “Fuck me. Fuck me.”

“I am, darling. I am. Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’ll make you good.”

“Harder, please. Harder…” Y/N begged, her eyes squinting together. She sobbed in lust before burying her face into the pillow as Marcel fastened his move.

“Baby loves to go hard, does she? Baby is such a good girl, clenching around me, yeah?”

But, the fun didn’t end there.

Marcel straight away pulled out his length, slamming her body swiftly so she laid on her back. Y/N saw he pumped his pride quickly before broke into her cunt. She moaned loudly of the feeling, arching her back and pushing her leg resting on his shoulder. Her creeping hands pulled Harry’s face, smacking their lips together with their lower body part working together, and her legs now resting around his waist. The man hungrily kissed her while his hands kneading her sensitive breasts.

“Yes, yes.. oh yes..” her gasping voice managed him even more brutal, his dick now was hard and fast. Fucking her like there’s no tomorrow. Her next sentence caught him off guard, making him smirk in soaring ego even more.

“Marcel..”

While Marcel fucked her with ego, Y/N herself didn't realise what she was saying. She let the lust over her. The euphoria was thick and high, and she just let her body did the work. And of course, Marcel took advantage of her.

. . Please excuse some errors Talk to me :)

[blissfulparker]

Stuff that I started but never finished ♥︎

An actual compilation of my mess of a writing. This is stuff I never finish in 2019 because I lost motivation, ran out of ideas, fell asleep because it was just a 2am thought. It’s messy but here it is! Some of it is promises I could never even get around too, I’m sorry but I hope you enjoy!

Boxer!dad!tom x reader(I might finish this one for a writing challenge)

Summary: Tom comes home from a match, bruised and bloody. He hates the way he looks and never wants his daughter to see him like this, broken and in pain, but sometimes all his daughter wants to do is help.

Two clicks, two clicks was all you heard as Tom tried to stumble in quietly after a match. The door unlocked and swung open hitting the wall and you can hear Toms uneven breath begging for help. His body glisten in sweat and his hands held onto his stomach trying to cover up the large gauge that rested there.

“Tom?” You rubbed your eyes as you walked into the living room seeing him in the kitchen grabbing a bottle of water from the fridge and chugging it as if it were his last bottle of water he were to ever drink. “Tom, come here.” You rush over to him and assist him with walking.

“I’ve got myself darling, you go back to—“ He starts and you look down at what he was holding. His hand covered in blood, that was no secret. The cut was oozing and it was stained purple and green around to show just how bad it was.

“Don’t tell me to go back to bed, you’re hurt.” You warned him as you helped him into the bathroom where you kept his emergency kit.

“Where is she?” He spoke mentioning your daughter who normally stayed up waiting for her father to tuck her in, even if that meant 1am.

“I put her to sleep hours ago.” You look at him and he breaks eye contact.

“Good, she doesn’t need to see me like this.” He sniffled. You knew that tom hated this, at least the day after Sophia was born. When his daughter was born he promised she’d never see her father broken, stumbling in and falling into pieces as her mother tried to fix him. Promised her she’d be safe and normal.

“Hey,” you tilt his chin up so he can look at you. “This doesn’t make you a bad parent.” You remind him and he nods. He feels the alcohol hit his skin and immediately hisses in pain.

“Daddy?” A small girl—

Peter Parker x reader

Summary: peters heater is broken so he substitutes his cuddles instead

Warm mug of tea meets your cold quivering lips.

Peters heater was broken, for the third time this month his heater was broken. He refused to get a new one, it was understandable since it was so expensive and peter was college student who could barely afford his own books. It also didn’t bother him, he had way more warmth for some odd reason and it didn’t bother his roommate ned either. But you swore If he didn’t get it fixed you would stop coming over.

“Peter,” you shiver and he looks up from his book. His face innocent and his body clean from goosebumps. “I’m cold.” You pout and he sees how you already have his flannel, his hoddie, his sweats, fuzzy socks, and you were ready to put on some gloves. There sat peter, short sleeves and sweats.

“Do you want a heating blanket? I think may packed some away somewhere.” He gets up to find something to help and you shake your head.

“Can we take a break and cuddle?” You asked. Peter loved cuddle breaks, more than any break in the world. Holding you in his arms and talking was just the start of something beautiful. Sometimes you’d fall asleep, sometimes you’d watch movies, others you’d simply just talk and then get up to do more work.

“C’mere.” He holds out his arms and you gladly fall into them. His skin warm and you’re still surprised that not a single goosebump messes with it. You curl into his chest as he holds you and you listen to the sound of his beating heart.

Ceo!dad!tom x singlemom!reader

From the series dine and dash I worte and loved over the summer. I wanted so badly to do an mini series but didn’t have enough ideas and people wanted black beauty more. So here is the start of something i never figured out

Dark roast coffee filled your nose on the early Tuesday morning.

Somehow, being six months pregnant, you got to sleep in. At first, the smell of coffee made you nauseous. Tom had Harrison bring him coffee since you didn’t like him making it at home. Now all you want is to have the taste of coffee and the feeling of caffeine run though your veins again.

“Daddy! I can’t find him! I don’t wanna go without him!” Cara whines as the Time was 8:15 and Cara didn’t have school so she was going to get dropped off at Toms mums house for the day.

“I don’t know Then princess, did mummy put him in the dryer?” He asked. It was pascal, the lizard from tangled she brought around everywhere.

Her feet pad down the hall as she nearly runs into you with a distraught look on her small face. You walked with her over to the dryer before handing her the doll.

“I found him!” She holds him up and then runs back to the couch.

“Can I have just a sip?” You joked. Tom always looked best in the morning, in your opinion. His hair gelled back and his suit still nice and crisp. His glasses sat pretty on his face just like the rest of his features.

“Very funny, hows He?” Tom asked. He was very excited, he would’ve loved a girl but there can only be one princess in charge, that was Cara.

“Wanting out, I can feel it.” You hold your swollen stomach. Everything hurt, it wasn’t as fun or cute as tom tried to make it.

Fwb!Tom x reader

Summary: too many weddings and too little people to fall in love with. You and tom both desperate for the love you deserve and what better place to realize it at your best friends wedding?

The dark blue dress hugged your body, it was tight, it felt so right against you skin. Parts of you wished you went with the gold but the dark navy blue was just as pretty too for the autumn wedding.

Your best friend was getting married, this would be the third wedding in the year span you’d be going to. First it was your sisters, then it was your cousins, now your best friends, and in a couple of months your other best friend would be getting married too in the nice London summer. You, you had this trouble finding love. You would have it in the palm of your hand and then it’d vanish. You tried everything, endless dates, one night stands, nobody stole your heart.

Now you had tom, Tom who was one of your friends who wasn’t getting married this year. You found him though Harrison, your best friends soon to be husband, after getting drunk at the engagement party a year ago you two started sleeping together. Swearing that even if you didn’t have lovers you’d have each other and a bed. It was just something so you two wouldn’t drown in your own sadness.

Soft fairy lights littered the ceiling and people danced. Tables with white tablecloths and a warm array of yellow and orange flowers, perfect for this season. You came alone, which you immediately regretted because everyone here had a date, everyone.

“I’m so glad you could make it to the after party!” Your best friend comes up to you and holds your hand. Her nails painted a beautiful pink and her dress now different than the one she wore this morning. She had the worlds biggest smile and the best diamond ring.

“Me too!” You smile and she looks behind you.

“Oh, thought you’d come with tom,” her smiles drops and your heart speeds up. She was probably the only one that knew about Tom, well, Harrison too since they were best friends.

“No, w-why would we come together?” You asked.

“He just...seemed disappointed this morning that you didn’t stay long after to talk with him. Thought maybe you two were trying to keep it low key but then you left and he got pouty and went back to his hotel too. I mean he came down for lunch and was better, thought maybe you two—“ she started to ramble but you shake your head tucking a hair behind your ear.

“No, I haven’t talked to him all day really.” You told her and she pouted again.

“Oh, well, he’s here...somewhere.” She smiles at you before kissing your cheek. “I’ve gotta go, Haz is gonna lose it without me!” She giggles as she runs off to her husband.

You walk around a bit, trying to find at least someone you knew who wasn’t occupied by a date. That’s when you found tom, all alone playing with the cherry in his drink as he scrolled through his phone.

“Hey stranger.” You walk up somewhat awkwardly and he smiles as he sits up a bit.

“Hey,” he sets his phone down and faces you. “Thought you might not show up.” He says and you look around.

“How could I not show up to my best friend's wedding.” You have him a warm smile. He nods as he looks around.

“I’m kinda over weddings.” He admits and you see some disappointment in his face. “My brother, Sam, he’s getting married soon. Well, engaged. He showed me the ring he got for her and it’s beautiful and I’m proud it’s just...I’m over seeing people get married.” He’s honest and you nod.

“My sister got married earlier this year, it was pretty but hell for me. It’s like we’re old now.” You take his drink from him and take a sip before making a sour face.

“It’s just a Shirley temple darling, not that hardcore.” He laughs a little and you shake your head.

“Still.” His arm moves around you and you lean your head on his shoulder. He’s your fuck buddy, you two sleep with each other and then leave. No hard feelings, no actual feelings, just fuck and leave.

“Do you wanna...dance?” You asked swallowing hard in the process.

[tessmontyart]

2020 year in review

It’s funny, last year I never actually got around to doing one of these. I didn’t think it was overly interesting. Oh 2019, how I miss you so 😭Such an innocent time ....

I’ll do a quick recap, cause hey no-one but me reads these anyway. 2019 was a glorious time. I went to Italy for the first time, went on an awesome Hunter Valley trip with my friends, had a 100th birthday celebration for my pop, I got to see the show I worked on air on TV, we saw the Lano and Woodley apartment in Melbourne .... Good times!

I didn’t give a rats about being unemployed and took matters into my own hands by making loads of new merch and selling at the most conventions I’ve ever been to. I tabled at Sydney Supanova, Adelaide Avcon, Sydney SMASH, Coffs Nexus Con, Sydney Oz Comic Con and Brisbane Supanova! I did so much travelling and events, it became my full time job. It was exhausting, but it was loads of fun, it paid the bills nicely, and it was wonderful to meet followers and mutuals in person.

My partner was very invested in counting up the numbers of what was selling and what wasn’t, and taking note of what was inconvenient with my setup and how to make it better. He even made a powerpoint presentation on what I could focus on for 2020, what kind of merch I could focus on and adding more conventions to my list. We were both excited about the idea of trying out Armageddon in New Zealand, which would have been my first overseas convention!

Cue 2020.

It started off uneasy. There were still bushfires everywhere and smoke hanging around, but I was optimistic they would die soon and the rest of the year would be fine. I booked a bunch of conventions early as usual. Got a whole bunch of new things made and ordered for the first convention of the year, Melbourne Supanova in early April. Some Acrylic charms didn’t make it in time because of COVID, but I thought that’s ok I still have a whole years worth of conventions to sell them at!

COVID-19 was just a spooky mysterious thing that was happening overseas at that point. I think there might have been 1 case in Australia, so all the toilet paper and hand sanitizer was sold out, but we were still able to do our usual travelling for the event. Little did I know, Melbourne Supanova was the first and last event I could do in 2020.

COVID hit Australia hard, Melbourne especially. There were lockdowns, quarantines, planes were grounded, airmail was halted, the cases kept multiplying, rules kept changing and changing and it was all so new and such a headache. Seeing every single convention I had booked cancel one after the other was hard to process. This was my main source of income in 2019 and now it’s up and vanished. Everyone were losing their jobs too, so the idea of getting a new job was completely out the window. 

I tried to cheer myself up by drawing ‘Toilet Paper Chan’, my new magical girl character who has the ability to summon toilet paper in a time of need 😅

I made it into a Draw This In Your Style challenge, seeing as everyone was bored out of their minds in quarantine I hoped it was something people could pass the time and have fun making. 

(here’s a handful of my favourites) I had a few entries which were all very adorable, but I admit not as many people joined as I expected. I don’t blame them though, this whole pandemic was very soul sucking and demotivating, especially hearing the constant stream of bad news when it all started.

I also made some lineart of a cute Easter girl, encouraging people to colour her in if they are bored in quarantine.

That was really fun, and I planned to do more, perhaps whole colouring books for a small price to download. 

Then, out of nowhere, my friend from the last animation studio I worked at in 2018 contacted me. “Hey Tess, are you looking for work?”

“Um .... yes?”

Work? In 2020? What?

It turns out the animation industry is one of the only industries that are doing fine in the pandemic. Literally the only change is that animators have to work from home instead of at a studio. If you have the animation software and an internet connection you have everything you need.

So my good friend had recently scored this job for a studio which outsources all their animation for their animated TV series. The role is just fixing up any animation errors inhouse to minimize the amount of back-and-fourth between studios. It doesn’t sound like much but it became too big a job for just one dude to handle, so he contacted me and 2 of my other animation friends to help out. We had a ball!

It was loads of fun, and the contract lasted the whole year! 

It wasn’t just fixing up errors either, I got to animate walking/ running / jumping / flying cycles for the overseas animators to use, which was great practice for me, and we even had a whole episode to ourselves to animate from scratch which I really enjoyed.

And then ... the year just flew by, because I was busy working the whole time. It was really quite surreal!

There were a few highlights, such as being a bridesmaid for my best friend’s wedding and organising her hens party, which is one of those once-in-a-lifetime things.

(Hens Party - it was yellow themed (her favourite colour) and High Tea.. it was adorable!)

(The bridesmaids and the bride on the Wedding Day)

Unfortunately there were some lowlights too ... This was the last year I got to see my aunt. 

She was the craziest, funniest aunt, and still far too young to go. I honestly don’t think I’ll ever be the same without her.

As always, drawing is the only way I cope with anything. My family chose a plain wooden casket, encouraging everybody to write a message or draw something on it, before it would be sent to the crematorium. I drew Spotty, her awesome horse I remember from my childhood, surrounded by her favourite flowers. Monty draw Mingus, her awesome ferret we also remember from our childhood.

That wasn’t the only bad news either. Pat’s Grandpa passed away later in the year, and a handful of my friends had relatives who either passed away or were diagnosed with cancer or some other horrible life threatening disease. A musician who collaborated with favourite artist collaborated passed as well, and even though I didn’t know him personally, it was still horribly devastating. Not to mention all my friends/relatives pets who didn’t make it through 2020. There was just so much loss this year, and I’m still grieving my cousin and my friend’s mum who both passed last year, it’s getting harder and harder to cope. It’s gotten to the point where I’m paranoid about who the next person will be because I haven’t finished grieving the last ... 

All I can say is I hope 2021 is a little kinder when it comes to my loved ones. The small light at the end of the tunnel is; any suicidal thoughts I used to have frequently have all completely vanished, because I’ve been faced with the reality of it all. You really don’t realise how many people love you, people you don’t even know.

...

That was very dark, but it’s definitely something I needed to get off my chest.

Lets go back to a much lighter note. 

More highlights: 

🌻Animal Crossing New Horizons came out this year! I used to play Wild World back in the day so it was wonderfully nostalgic, and me and Pat have made the cutest little town with all our favourite villagers. It’s a nice way to escape from it all ^_^

(Monty’s island when we started)

🌻Speaking of games, the brand new Crash Bandicoot came out this year too! It was actually jaw droppingly amazing seeing all the awesome new ideas and mechanics they came up with while still keeping it classicly Crash. I loved it and I’m so excited to see if they give Spyro the same treatment!

🌻2020 brought about new and interesting ways to still enjoy Live entertainment. Lano and Woodley did a Zoom show which was absolutely hilarious, and Lights did an amazing online Dead End show which had me so pumped!

🌻Pat and I continued our anniversary High Tea tradition, this time trying it out at the Hydro Majestic hotel in the Blue Mountains!

🌻Speaking of Pat, his sister got married this year too, despite the pandemic. Congratulations!

🌻Pat randomly bought a Miku figure for himself, out of the blue, completely unravelling years of unnecessary ‘shame’ I’ve inherited caused by a pushy mother and a crappy ex. I used to love figure collecting but was convinced by certain judgy people that it was stupid and I needed to sell them all. I kept my very favourites in a cupboard ‘just incase they increase in value’. But now I can finally display them all again knowing Pat loves them just as much as I do!

We also added a ton more to the collection to make up for lost time (and because there’s SO MANY CUTE MIKUS NOWADAYS)

It’s a bit messy because we recently got new ones and need to make more space for them. The shelf with the Vocaloid nendoroids were my original ones hidden away in the cupboard, the rest we got this year ^_^ They make me so happy!

🌻Speaking of Pat unlocking things I’ve always wanted to do in the past: I am now planning to revive my old OCs Yui and Lotto! They were just characters of mine back in the day, but since I’m not good writing I never really came up with a story for them. But with Pat’s writer wisdom and my kawaii art style, I’m now planning a webcomic featuring the two cuties ^_^ It’s still in the very early planning stages but I’m super excited, and forever grateful for Pat, for believing in me ;w;

🌻This year I drew 31 more Owl City songs in copic markers, to go towards my ongoing project to draw every song! I’m actually getting quite close to my goal now which is exciting! 

🌻This year I went to a Drive-In movie theatre for the first time to see the new Bill and Tedd movie, it was glorious and now I wanted to try more drive-ins. Going out to see a movie on a big screen *without* being able to hear smart-asses or screaming babies? Yes please!!

🌻How could I forget, this was the year my idol noticed me!! Lights shared and retweeted my Deadend fanart! Life = made.

What to to look forward to in 2021:

This is the first New Year where I actually have an idea of how 2021 will go! I managed to secure another animation job at a new studio starting January, ending January 2022 😊So thats the financial security for this year sorted! :P

As for general goals for 2021;

I’m hoping to have a decent plan, concept art, chapter ideas and hopefully even a script done for my new webcomic! I also wanted to make some cute simple animations of the characters just because c:

I’d also like to just do more of my own animation in general ... I animate every day for work but I never get to do my own animated projects. It will be hard with a full time job, so maybe this can be a 2022 goal ... but hopefully I can do at least one little animation of my own!

I suppose another goal is to make a social media accounts for my animation, too. Even if I don’t fulfil my goal, I still would like a page to showcase everything I’ve done so far.

And if all else fails .... Another goal is to draw more Miku. It’s crazy that I love her this much and haven’t drawn any fanart!

I think I’ll leave it there because I’m babbling now. 😅

I’ve done so many of these now o_o

[2018] [2017] [2016] [2015] [2014] [2013] [2012]

[niksixx]

Axed 7

Finally!! We have reached the heart wrenching last part of my mini series. I can’t believe how far this little story has come and I am so glad you have enjoyed it and continued to want more. So...who will Y/N choose, Axl or Nikki?

Requested: Yes!

Pairing: The Dirt! Nikki Sixx/Axl Rose x Reader

Description: The long awaited part 7😭

Warning: Heartbreak, tears, uncontrollable waves of emotions.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Don’t let her fill your head with lies.”

“I love you. I love you.”

“I had no damn choice, Y/N. I wanted a family.”

A lightning strike hit the patch of grass beside the bench you sat on, jerking you out of the thoughts you were slowly drowning in. The rain was harsh, drenching you from head to toe, but somehow the flood of tears falling from your eyes outdid the natural storm.

Love wasn’t supposed to be hard. How difficult was it to be truthful? Honest? Love wasn’t supposed to drain you, exhaust you. But here you were at eleven at night, sobbing on a park bench in a thunderstorm, just utterly…tired.

You needed the truth. The most dangerous place to be was inside your own head, and for the sake of your sanity, you had to know the truth. No matter how much it killed you.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Your head spun during the whole drive to Sheila’s. From the park all the way to her apartment, your mind raced with thoughts. Was she lying? Was Axl? Could you trust anyone?

The lights in Sheila’s apartment were shut off, but luckily her car was parked on the side of the street. Throwing up your hood, you stepped into the rain and sprinted over to the door. You knocked twice before the door swung open, revealing a started Sheila in a towel.

“Y/N?” She asked hesitantly, eyes wide. “W-What are you…it’s late. Why are you here?”

“Let me in first, I’m soaked,” you said, squeezing by your cousin. She shut the door, frantically looking around the apartment.

“You cannot be here right now,” Sheila insisted with a shake of her head. “I-I’m not feeling well. I was just about to get a shower.”

“You’re my cousin, Sheil,” you said, a tear streaking your cheek. “And we have been through so much shit emotionally.”

“Y/N, please,” Sheila said, biting her lip.

“I just want the truth, once and for all,” you whispered, stepping toward your cousin. “Does Axl…does he love me or not? Is this all a game?”

Sheila’s breath quickened as she nodded quickly. “Yes, yes he loves you, now please you have got to--.”

“Ready for round two, gorgeous?”

The sound of your fiancé’s voice split your heart in half. Turning slowly, your eyes connected with Axl, standing naked in all his glory. The sob that left your lips ripped through your body as you covered your mouth, unable to contain the cry any longer. You looked between Sheila and Axl, praying they could see the devastation in your eyes.

“Y/N…” Axl whispered, eyes the size of quarters.

“Don’t you fucking dare,” you muttered, “Open your whore mouth.”

“Y/N,” Sheila began, a few tears of her own slipping down her pink cheeks.

“You too, you stupid bitch,” Venom dripped from your voice. “Part of me prays to fucking God that I’m dreaming, but the rational piece of me knows that my eyes aren’t deceiving me.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen,” Sheila whispered, flinching when you screamed.

“Then why did it?!” Heat burned your skin. “How the fuck did my fiancé end up in your fucking apartment, Sheila, hm?”

“I came over to talk to her,” Axl answered, glancing at you sadly. “Don’t…don’t blame Sheila. I, um, I actually came over to talk to her about you. About a lot of things. And um, I think now would probably be the time to come clean.”

“How fucking generous of you, Axl Rose,” you laughed darkly.

Axl’s face hardened. “I…I never did love you, Y/N. I never planned on going through with the wedding, either. In the beginning, this whole thing was to hurt Sheila. I spent years with pent up anger and hatred inside of me. The only way I knew I could hurt her was if I involved the most important person in her life…you.”

“You were just collateral damage, Y/N. And I’m so, so, so incredibly sorry for everything. I used your infatuation with me against you. I knew you’d be easy to manipulate and I…I just did it.”

The knife in your heart was stabbing, releasing, and stabbing you all over again. The pain became unbearable, the tears uncontrollable.

“It was only tonight that I realized how poorly I treated Sheila,” Axl breathed, tears glistening in his eyes. “I should’ve never left her. She needed me and I failed her completely. You were right, tonight. There are other ways to have a family. I was blinded with rage and I acted before thinking. I know that you will never forgive me for what I’ve done, but I just had to tell you the truth, once and for all.”

Everything was a lie. Every single moment of your relationship with Axl had been a lie, based on anger and revenge. And even if you were in pain from his lies, the betrayal from Sheila, your own flesh and blood, was intolerable.

Sucking in a breath, you took a step back, hand going to the ring on your finger. “You really had me fooled. Congratulations. You both,” Sliding the ring off your finger, you slammed it down on the table. “Have lost me forever.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You drove and drove and drove until you couldn’t anymore. The ache in your chest grew as Axl’s words replayed in your head. It was a game. And you had fallen completely into his trap. And because you’d been so naïve and selfish, you lost the one man that would’ve given you the world.

Standing just two feet away from Nikki’s apartment door, you chewed your lip anxiously. You’d knocked four times and he still hadn’t answered. You knew he was home because even at two in the morning, you could hear his bass coming from the living room.

Knocking once more, you waited patiently. When he didn’t answer, you turned your back sadly, fresh tears springing to your eyes just as more rain began to fall.

“Y/N?”

Your neck snapped quickly around at the sound of Nikki’s gravelly voice. He stood in the doorway, bass in hand, eyes expanding as he realized it really was you.

“I didn’t know where else to go,” you wept, hand covering your mouth. “I’m so sorry, I just--.”

“Shhh, come inside,” Nikki whispered, wrapping an arm around your shoulder. He guided you into his house, closing the door behind him. In the light, Nikki could fully make out your features, and his heart split as he drank in the sight of your tired eyes and mascara stained cheeks.

“Let’s get you some clothes, hm?”

You let Nikki lead you to his room, rocking back on your heels as he rummaged through his drawers before handing you a warm pair of clothes. You stripped out of your clothes immediately, blushing as Nikki’s wandering eyes travelled the length of your body.

“You’re shivering,” Nikki commented as you pulled on his shirt. “I’ll make you some tea. Two scoops of sugar, right?”

You nodded, a tiny smile tilting upward. He remembered.

Once seated at the table, tea in front of you, Nikki across, the tears flowed freely again. “Axl cheated on me with Sheila.”

Nikki’s face hardened. “I was wondering why you weren’t wearing the ring.”

“I should’ve never trusted him,” you muttered, tapping the mug with your nails. Glancing up, you bit your lip hesitantly. “Nikki, I am so…so sorry. For everything.”

He nodded, crossing his arms. “I know, love. I know.”

Strands of wet hair fell in your eyes as you shook your head. “No, please, you don’t know. I have been so incredibly selfish, Nikki. I loved you more than my own life, and because I loved you, I should have waited. I loved you so much that I pictured our life together in my head and it was beautiful. Perfect. Everything I ever wanted. But I knew you weren’t ready for such a big step, and when Axl kissed me I thought what I felt for him was love but it wasn’t. What I felt and still feel for you now is love, Nikki Sixx, and if you take me back and accept me and all of my imperfections, I will spend the rest of our lives making it up to you and loving you how you deserve to be loved.”

“Y/N,” Nikki said, eyes softening.

“I know I can’t erase what happened between us,” you continued, brushing the tears from your eyes. “And I know I don’t deserve you or your forgiveness. You went through hell because of me, almost losing your life because of the pain I caused, and I will never forgive myself for that. But I love you and I need you in my life because for two years, you have shown me love and happiness even when I didn’t think I deserved it. And right now, I still don’t.”

“Enough of that,” Nikki said, shaking his head. “You deserve love. You deserve to be happy,” Nikki took a breath, leaning back in his chair. “But I won’t lie to you, Y/N. You hurt me. You hurt me more than anyone in this world, my own family included.”

“I know,” you cried. “Gosh, I know.” He wasn’t going to forgive you. There was no light in his eyes, no smile on his face. Nikki was hurting still, and you were the sole source of that pain. “I was wrong to come, tonight. I’m sorry. I’ll let myself out.” Pushing away from the table, you stood and headed for the door, Nikki’s warm fingers wrapping around your wrist.

“But,” he said, a smile spreading across his face. “That doesn’t mean I’m not willing to work on things with you.”

Throwing your arms around his neck, you sank happily into his embrace, burying your face in the crook of his neck. His arms went around your waist, pulling you tight against him. And by that simple gesture, you knew he’d forgiven you.

“I love you,” you murmured, kissing the side of his head. “I love you so much, Nikki Sixx.”

Setting you down, Nikki lightly kissed your nose. “Wait here.” He disappeared into his room briefly before coming out again, the smile on his face growing wider.

And if you thought you were out of tears already, the sight of Nikki bending down on his knee was enough to bring more tears to the corners of your eyes as he pulled a ring box from his pocket. “We have a lot to work on. Together. But if I had to go through hell and back with anyone in this world, I’d choose you. I will always choose you.” He opened the box and took the ring out for you to see. The dainty ring was the complete opposite of the gaudy ring Axl had picked out for you, but then again, Nikki knew you. This ring was exactly what you wanted all along. “Marry me, Y/N. Let me be your husband, the father of your children, the man of your dreams, and everything in between.”

And you couldn’t have said yes any faster.

[serendipitykpop]

wedding bells

Pairing: dong sicheng x reader

Summary: "I want to hear wedding bells soon!”

“Jaehyun! Jaehwa!”

“Uncle Sicheng!” The little girl’s eyes lit up at the sight of her uncle. She stood up in her chair, which prompted her father to scold her for being unsafe. She merely giggled, and waved at Sicheng instead. She made grabby hands at him, and he scooped her up in his arms, then peppered her chubby cheeks with kisses. “Uncle!”

“You’ve gotten so big from the last time I saw you.”

“That’s right! And one day, I’m going to be taller than you, Uncle!” 

Sicheng smiled as he set her down beside her father. He looked to his friend, who was in much need of a nap, or some strong coffee. He chuckled, and gave Jaehyun a pat on the back when he passed him to get to his own seat.

“You look terrible, Jaehyun.”

Jaehyun snorted. “Thanks, Sicheng.”

“Papa! No falling asleep now that Uncle Sicheng is here!” Ayumi patted her father’s cheeks, then squished them together. She grinned at the silly look, and continued to mush his face around. Jaehyun couldn’t hold back a smile, his hands brushing against her sides to tickle her. Sicheng watched the father-daughter duo with fondness.

“So, Uncle Sicheng!” She exclaimed, pointing at him.

“So, Miss Jaehwa!” He copied her actions, which almost made her break character as a giggle nearly slipped through her lips. She leaned forward in her seat, and in an innocent tone, she asked her question.

“Why are you still single?”

Jaehyun coughed, choking on his spit. The two older boys looked at each other, eyes wide. Where had that question come from?

“Um, well, uh.” How was he supposed to explain this?

Jaehwa let out a huff. “Is it because you’re too scared to confess to Y/N?”

Now, she had done it.

“Jaehwa!”

“What?” She asked, not sure why her question had caused so much fuss, and was the reason why Sicheng was this close to passing out from embarrassment.

“T-That’s!” Sicheng stammered, his face completely red, and burning hot.

“But what’s wrong, Uncle Sicheng? Why won’t you confess your love to Y/N? I mean you look at Y/N as if Y/N was the one who put all the stars in the sky! You smile really big, and you are so happy around Y/N!”

“Jaehwa,” He whined.

“You look at Y/N so lovingly, it’s so cute!”

Jaehyun chucked from beside her, ruffling her hair. “My girl’s got a point.”

“Not you too, Jaehyun.”

“Papa, why won’t Uncle Sicheng do it?” She wholeheartedly didn’t understand how these two loved each other, but haven’t yet told the other.

“Well, as much as he may love Y/N for all these years, he’s never tried confessing.”

She gasped with her hands over her mouth. “Never?”

“Never.”

“Not even once?”

“Nope.”

She then turned to her uncle, and frowned. “Uncle Sicheng, that’s terrible!”

“I know, Jaehwa. Please stop breaking my heart more.”

“Then - Then you have to do it today!”

“EH?” His head shot up from his arms, eyes wide in panic, hands sweating at the thought of doing such a thing, and so soon.

“You have to confess to Y/N today!”

“But I-”

“Ah! I’m so sorry I’m late! I overslept!” You cried, stumbling your way over to the table. Jaehwa instantly brightened, and engulfed you in a hug when you went to greet her. You beamed at her affection. “Jaehwa!”

“Y/N! Sit, sit!” She pointed to the chair beside Sicheng’s. You chuckled, nodding. You, and Jaehyun exchanged smiles, then it was your turn to say your hellos to Sicheng. But when you looked at him, your cheeks lit up in a rosy red shade.

“Sicheng, hey.”

“Hey.” He shyly waved. He knew for a fact that his cheeks looked just as red as yours, maybe even more so.

“Shall we order?”

“Yes!”

Lunch went off without a hitch. You, and Sicheng were able to fall into a comfortable atmosphere with the help of the father-daughter duo. You weren’t as nervous as before, but still nervous from having the other so close to you.

Unknown to the both of you, a certain someone kept a close eye on you. She took mental notes, and made observations of how you interacted with one another. After all, there was much she was curious about when it came to you, and Sicheng’s confusing relationship.

“I’m going to go pay the bill, you all can finish your food.”

Sicheng’s head snapped up, his chopstick halfway to his mouth. He slammed them down, and spared one look at you before running to Jaehyun. Looks like they were going to be fighting over the bill again.

“I don’t get it.” Jaehwa’s eyebrows furrowed together in confusion.

“Don’t get what, buttercup?” You asked through a mouthful of soup.

“You, and Uncle Sicheng really, really, REALLY like each other.”

Your eyes widened as you spat out your food. She sighed, and patted your back while your lungs grasped for air. You let out an embarrassing noise, and covered your face. You two even had the same reactions, so how were you not together yet?

“W-Where did you get that idea?”

“I got curious, and watched the two of you when we ate. You, and Uncle Sicheng were being so lovey dovey, and obvious. How did you not see it? You were right there!”

“Well, I-” You mumbled, scratching the back of your neck.

“What is it that you feel for him? Be honest!”

“Well, that’s a little complicated, I suppose.”

“It is not!”

“It is!”

Your eyes looked over to the two boys fighting over the bill at the counter, the waiter seeming to contain his composure somehow. You giggled, letting your gaze linger a little longer on Sicheng.

“Aha!”

“Mm?”

“Your eyes are on Uncle Sicheng again.”

“Oh, um.”

“You’re in love with him too, aren’t you?”

“Too?”

“Pretend you heard nothing, Y/N!”

“Yes, yes,” You chuckled, and nodded. She hummed, deep in thought before letting you know her opinion on the two of you.

“I want to hear wedding bells soon, so confess to him today, okay?”

“E-Ehhh?”

**

“Everyone’s here?”

“Wait, wait! Not yet! Where’s Jaehwa?”

“What? Wasn’t she just here with us?”

While everyone was getting into their positions, you and Sicheng looked around the hall for her. You bit your lip, feeling how agitated people were getting because of this. Sicheng must’ve sensed it, and gave your hand a squeeze, bringing your attention to him. The two of you softly smiled at the other.

“Don’t worry. We’ll find her.”

“I hope so.”

“Ah! I’m so sorry! I found a secret stash of food over there.” She grinned. Meanwhile, everyone let out grumbles, and complaints.

“There you are!” You visibly relaxed, causing Sicheng to chuckle from beside you.

“Hurry up already!”

“My legs are getting tired!”

“All right, all right. I’m coming!” Jaehwa threw her plate aside, and ran to join her cousins for the photo. She took one look at the couple in the middle, and felt a surge of pride run through her. After all, she had done a little meddling to get them together. She could even brag that she was the reason why you were joined together at last.

They raised an eyebrow at the girl who was staring with so much fondness, and she giggled, shaking it off. She ran towards you, reaching out for yours and Sicheng’s outstretched hands.

Her two favorite people had finally promised their whole lives to each other, and that was more than she could ever ask for.

[besidemethewholedamntime]

only the moon shall know 

For the wonderful @libbyweasley for your birthday. Happy Birthday!! I hope you’re having the bestest day which you deserve for being the bestest bean! Thank you so much for all you do and for being you! It wouldn’t be the same without you <3

Summary: 

The memory of him turning her around that sunlit ballroom still haunts her dreams at night, the sound of the violins are what she wakes up to in the morning. It’s almost winter now, the sun is no longer here as much as it was, and it makes it easier to forget during the day. But her mind is not as strong in her dreams, it is much more careless, and it makes it easier to remember the feeling of his hands on her waist, or the way her looked at her as he gently spun her around and told her that he didn’t want her to go."

Jemma longs for Fitz bit maybe, finally, something can be done. A sequel to 'the last sunlit walk'. 

{Read on Ao3}

or read below!

“The books you ordered have arrived, my lady. I’ve already had them carried to the library.”

“Thank you very much, Lucy. That will be all.”

Jemma watches the maid go and then turns back to the letter she’s been trying to draft for hours now. If she thinks about it it’s really been days. Over and over again she writes the beginning, but when she gets past that her mind goes blank and suddenly it’s like standing in front of someone and having no idea what to say, her mouth opening and closing like a fish.

Dear Fitz,

I hope

The four words, black ink on ivory paper, stare back at her, mocking her in their simplicity. What does she hope? She hopes that he is well, that he is not suffering too greatly from the breaking of his engagement and that he has found a way to help his family. It seems so simple to put that in a letter, to write what she has been trying to write for the past three months now, but it’s all going so terrible wrong.

It’s her own fault – she left writing the letter too late. If she had just written it as soon as she heard, as soon as the society whispers sent it across to her, then it would have been better. But she hadn’t. She had sat on the knowledge, stewed on it, and the weeks had passed and in order to escape her thoughts she had left her comfortable estate in Yorkshire and went to Hillfoot house which had a village and a farm, and was also far enough away from everything that might dared to remind her of Fitz.

The memory of him turning her around that sunlit ballroom still haunts her dreams at night, the sound of the violins are what she wakes up to in the morning. It’s almost winter now, the sun is no longer here as much as it was, and it makes it easier to forget during the day. But her mind is not as strong in her dreams, it is much more careless, and it makes it easier to remember the feeling of his hands on her waist, or the way her looked at her as he gently spun her around and told her that he didn’t want her to go.

She has come back now, to her estate and to her life. She must resume. Life could only be paused for so long. She has come back with many resolutions, and one of those is writing to Fitz. He has no fiancée yet, she understands, and if he did, she wouldn’t write to him. She couldn’t hurt him like that. However, while he is still free, before he is engaged once again, she wants to write to him and offer an arm of friendship. She wants him to know that she still cares.

This is why she is here, sat at her writing desk in her study as opposed to in the library reading the new books she has ordered. It is why she is not in her greenhouse, consulting with her gardener about how their joint fertiliser experiment is coming along. It is why, every night, she looks out her window at the moon and sends up a silent message, hoping that he’s looking up, too, and knows what she’s trying to say.

Except silent messages aren’t what’s needed here. It’s real words, real ink on real paper. Something to be held and for the words to be felt. Something that Fitz can hold and feel and understand that she didn’t have a choice when she left him on that summer night, and that she very much wish she did.

It would have killed her. It would have been like having her heart dug out of her chest with a spoon. His fiancée was vicious, with perfect black hair and piercing blue eyes and a grin that always seemed slightly feral. To see Fitz married to such a woman, knowing how unhappy he would be, and knowing how happy she and Fitz could have been together in another life would have frayed her every nerve.

Duty. Such an old-fashioned thing. A thing cooked-up by men to make themselves feel better as they plundered villages and made an Empire. It’s our duty she bets they cried. A notion that made its way into society and somehow became entangled with marriage. It’s not for love one marries, Jemma, Hunter’s mother had said during the summer, her eyebrows raised as she sat with her embroidery hoop. It’s for England. For the land.

People used duty as a way to make others miserable, to excuse the things they had done, and Fitz had been no different. Only she couldn’t hate him for it, couldn’t despise what she despised in others who used the same excuse. His father had died, leaving them penniless, and he wanted to ensure that his mother and his home were cared for. How could she hate a man like that? And he had made no secret of it, of the fact that he was looking to wed for money. Jemma had to admire that, as much as she had detested the vultures that has come circling when it was announced, all of them hoping to be the one so save the handsome Lord Leopold Fitz from financial ruin, and themselves become a Countess in the process.

It had been Hunter who had told her. Hunter who had come to ask her guardians if Jemma would be permitted to stay with his family for the summer, to make the whole thing more bearable. They’re animals, Jemma, he had told her on the train, sitting in their first-class compartment. The whole stinking lot of them. Animals. He’ll be so miserable. That’s partly the reason I’m bringing you to stay. I think you’ll make it better for him.

Jemma had wrinkled her nose, she remembers that, and had told her cousin very clearly that she would not be a pawn in some game. She had never met Fitz, though she had heard he was charming enough, but that was besides the point. She did not exist to make some man feel better and if that’s all Hunter wanted her for then she was getting off at the next station and going straight home.

She would have done it. Lately she’s been thinking about that moment often, when she was glaring at Hunter across the compartment, eyes narrowed. In that moment she wasn’t sure herself if she would have had the gall to do it but now she is and knows she would have. Hunter had just laughed and reached for her hand, and told her that having her in his house made it much more bearable for him, too.

It’s funny because it hurts, terribly so, and yet she wouldn’t take it back. Those moments she and Fitz had together over the long months she stayed with Hunter and his family. The walks they took, the expeditions in the large wood around his home. The knowing looks they shared over dinner.  Even when his fiancée had come, with her unblinking eyes and porcelain skin, these moments had not abated. Rather they became more important. Fitz was sinking and these were the only life rings she could offer him before he was pulled beneath the waves.

She had to leave though, she did. He had to try and be happy with his marriage and he was never going to try if Jemma were there. She would have left soon, anyway, and gone back to Yorkshire when the weather had cooled and nobody was quite as much fun, but even before they danced together on that halcyon summer evening, she knew she had to leave before the wedding. Jemma considers herself a strong woman, but to watch someone she loves commit themselves to a lifetime of pain and heartache would be beyond what she could have borne.

Her parents died when she was small, and her father, beyond the times, arranged it so that it all went to her. The lands, the estates, the shares he had in various companies all came to his only daughter. Jemma does quite well for herself and everybody thinks so, even the guardians who must do their job until she turns twenty-five. Even still it’s not enough. She used to dream of using her wealth and status to help, she has more than enough, but successful though she is, she can’t help the one person she wants to with all her heart and it makes it hang heavy in her chest.

It was Hunter’s mother who let it slip, who told her that, if things had been different, there had once been a plan to marry the ‘Simmons girl and the Fitz boy.’ That was how his mother had described it. If the elder Lord Fitz hadn’t let money drip from his fingers as if it were water then one day, she may have married his son.

“She didn’t need to know that,” Hunter had told his mother, eyes blazing across the dining table. “You didn’t need to tell her that.”

“What does it matter if she knows now or not?” The woman had said, unhappy at being spoken to like that in her own house by her own son. “The time for it has come and gone and now the two of them must remain.”

The time for it has come and gone. Yes, Jemma supposes it has.

“My lady?”

Jemma looks up to see Lucy, one of her favourite maids, standing at the door once again.

“Yes? Is everything alright?”

“There’s a letter here for you, my lady. Delivered something urgent from the station boy.”

Jemma frowns. “Pardon me?”

“Apparently it was given to someone on the train who then gave it to the station master who then gave it to the station boy to bring up here.” Lucy looks puzzled as she recounts the tale she’s clearly not sure of herself. “Something about it being faster than the postal service, my lady.”

“A letter you say?”

Lucy nods. “Yeah, my lady. I have it here for you.”

She brings it in on a silver tray and bobs as she steps back. Jemma dismisses her with a wave of her fingers and the girl is gone by the time she picks up the letter. It’s Hunter’s handwriting, that much she knows, and the sight of it makes her heart seize up tightly in her chest. Hunter is a man who doesn’t believe in speed, and for him to send this letter with such urgency makes her quite afraid.

With trembling hands she gets her letter opener and carefully, so as not to tear the precious contents, she tears open the envelope. It’s not a thick letter, nor terribly long, but the handwriting only worsens as she unfolds the paper.

Jemma,

I have no time to write anything eloquent, and you should know that’s not how I do things anyway. I’m writing this with urgency, I’m afraid. He told me not to tell you, made me swear it, and I’m not a man to break my word but in this instance, I feel I have to, but unfortunately my decision comes what could be cutting it very close to ‘too late’.

He’s getting married again, Fitz that is. A rushed wedding but that’s hardly a surprise. They called the banns and planned it all with very little fanfare – I suppose the poor chap is still somewhat traumatised from what happened last time – but it looks set to happen. It’s the same equation, one gets money and one gets power. This one isn’t as awful, she is dull but has an ambitious family, very nouveau riche, and it’s caused quite the scandal amongst the mothers, I can tell you. My own is simply horrified. However, that is besides the point. The point is that she’s not terrible, and it’s why I have put off writing as long as I have but I can do it no longer. I have very little self-control.

You must come, Jemma. You simply have to come. You have to come and you have to stop him before he makes this terrible mistake. He’s going to be so miserable, Jemma. Absolutely bloody miserable for the rest of his life if I allow him to go through with this. He won’t listen, though. You know how he is. He won’t listen to me or his mother or his servants or anybody else who candidly tells him that he’s being a right pillock and doing something that nobody wants for him. He’ll only listen to you. You must understand. It’s only you.

You said it yourself, that duty is nonsense and is made up by archaic men to justify the horrible things they’ve done in the world. Well then come. Come and tell my stubborn friend that. Come and tell him that nobody wants him to do this. Nobody wants him to be in pain and alone which is what he will end up. Tell him that duty is pointless but love is not. Duty will not remember the sacrifices made in its name but love is enduring. Isn’t that what you said?

This letter has become a rambling mess but I have very little time, my own fault I can assure you. I have enclosed a train ticket so all that you need to do is hop on. You left some clothes here last time according to Mrs. Hallington, so there’s no need for you to pack. Just get on the train, Jemma, and stop the man you love from making this dreadful mistake.

The wedding is in two days but hurry still, please. Knowing the awful luck the cosmos seems to have for both of you it seems like a bad decision to dawdle.

Yours,

Lance Hunter  

The ticket falls out of the envelope and Jemma stares at it on her lap and wonders what it all means. She only prepared herself mentally to write the letter and perhaps even have it posted. She was not prepared for this and if there’s one thing she detests in this world it’s a lack of preparation.

It’s only you.

It’s only Fitz for her. There will be nobody else whom she could ever love the way she loves him, that much she is sure of. But does she have the right to do this? Does she have the right to turn to Fitz and ask him to choose her above all else, knowing that she was the one who turned away?

But Hunter’s letter conveys surety as well as urgency, that Fitz is making a dreadful mistake, and she must ask herself if she could stand idly by and let it happen, knowing as much as she does now. Her cousin has asked her, begged her, to stop Fitz from doing this and could she honestly turn away once again and live with that for the rest of her life?

“Lucy?” She calls, looking down at the letter, heart in her throat, knowing the girl will be in the hallway somewhere. “Lucy? Come here a moment, would you? I need you to-”

She is cut off by the clearing of a throat that is decidedly male and looks up and sees it to be her butler. Trained by those in His Majesty’s Household, Mr Parsons is known for his excellent moustache and being decidedly stoic. No matter how long Jemma is gone these things never change. Yet today the moustache quivers slightly at the ends, and Mr Parsons’ face is uneasy.

“Excuse me, your ladyship,” he begins, the deep voice quivering slightly at the ends, too. “There are lawyers here. They wish to see you.”

“Lawyers?” Jemma feels her eyebrows pinch together, and her head swims. “What lawyers?”

“I do not know, your ladyship. They request to see you immediately.”

Mr Parsons’ tone suggests that they took a tone to him, unsuitable for a man of such an esteemed position in the household. Today, however, she cannot find it within herself to feel sorry for him.

“I have to go, Parsons. I’m terribly sorry but I have to go.” She breaks off helplessly as the man’s face doesn’t change, and she realises whatever it is must be of equal importance to this. She sighs. “Very well. Send them to the library and I shall be down in a minute.”

She places the letter down, trying so very hard not to betray her hurry when every cell in her body is screaming at her to go.

-x-

After her meeting, head still spinning, she tears into the study like a hurricane.

“Your bags are packed, my lady,” Lucy says, hurrying in after her. “There’s a car waiting to take you to the station.”

Station? Oh, yes, to go and rescue Fitz from saving himself from financial ruin. How funny that this isn’t the strangest thing to happen to her today. Not any longer.

“Thank you very much, Lucy,” Jemma says absent-mindedly. “I’m just looking for the letter. You haven’t seen it, have you?”

Lucy’s in the middle of shaking her head when a footman comes into the room, looking awfully harried, and Jemma hazards that he might have just been told off by her formidable butler.

“Eh, the car’s ready, milady,” he stammers, turning bright red. “’E says ‘e’s got to go right now.”

“Never mind then,” Jemma says, grabbing her coat and her gloves. “Onwards we go.” Her voice is a lot calmer than her stomach but she is a master of swallowing her emotions. With a tight nod at her two servants, she swishes on out the door.

The draught in her wake causes papers to fly off her desk, the letter soaring up and then settling gently on the ground like snow.

[blueberryrock]

Here is the Prologue to my newest story! It's not a fanfic, it is an original story im writing! I hope y'all like it!

(Also I might change the name in the future)

"Momma" a small five-year-old girl with long brown hair tugs on the bottom of her tired mom's pants "when will daddy come home?" Her big bright brown eyes meet her mom's dull brown eyes.

The tired mom glances at her watch, which reads nine pm. She pulls a curtain back from the window in front of her and sighs "any minute".

She turns her head to look at the little girl "Why don't you go put your jammies on, grab your sister, and we'll play a little game" she warmly smiles. The little girl squeals and runs to her room.

The mom smiles as she runs down the long hallway, she glances back outside to the empty street. "C'mon Rick, where are you" she mutters. She fiddles with her gold wedding ring that has a single, gorgeous, red jewel on it. A "blood-red diamond" as her gemologist cousin calls it.

"Mom, please tell Karlene that I don't want to play some stupid game" The five-year-old, Karlene's, older sister complains. She tucks a strand of her long dirty blonde hair behind her ear.

"Now Sierra, you promised to play a game with her earlier, and as soon as your dad returns from work. You can go back to your room" Sierra's mom finally turns away from the window.

"Ugh, fine, but just one round" Sierra huffs "what game are we playing anyway."

"Cops and robbers!" Shrieks Karlene.

"No. No way am I going to play that stupid game" Sierra angrily crosses her arms.

"How bout a card game?" Their mom suggests.

"Ooh let's play gold fish!" Karlene happily said.

"Sounds good to me" Sierra finally agrees "and it's Go Fish."

"I'll grab a deck of cards, you two clear off the coffee table" their mom dashes out of the room to look for a deck.

"Where do you think dad's at," Sierra asked her little sister as she moves a stack of paper to the ground.

"Maybe he's fighting super villains!" Karlene enthusiastically hits a remote on the ground "oops" she mutters to herself.

Sierra can't help but giggle at her little sister's sheer happiness. "He could be" Sierra puts the last object onto the lower level of the coffee table.

"Really?" Karlene squeals.

Sierra smiles and messes with Karlene's crazy brown hair, she looks around and gets ear level with her sister. "You know dad does have superpowers" Sierra whispers and smirks.

Karlene's blue eyes go wide and her jaw drops "No. Way." Sierra only grins "umm, yes way, he told me"

And as soon as Sierra said that, the girl's mom walks into the large living room, hold a bowl of pretzels, and a deck of black cards.

Before she can set anything down, Karlene leaps to her feet and runs at her mom. "Does daddy really have powers?" She asks excitedly, bouncing up and down.

"Ah, well, I wanted to wait till you were older" their mom sends an upset glare at Sierra, which she ducks behind the glass coffee table.

Their mom walks around the bouncing Karlene and sets the bowl and deck on the table. "But yes, your father has...er..powers"

And at that Karlene lets out the loudest squeal on the planet. "Do you think he can show me his?" Karlene runs up to Sierra.

Sierra only shrugs "don't ask me," she says

Karlene then turns to her tired mom "do you think I'll have powers?" She jumps up and down on the carpet.

"Well, there is about a fifty-fifty chance of you two to get them, but let's play our card game" she pulls Karlene by the hand to sit "please? And once your father comes home, you can berate him with any and all questions"

Karlene grins again. "So six cards?" Their mom asks as she deals out five cards to everyone.

"I'm pretty sure it's seven" Sierra corrects her. They continue to play round after round until the big, old, grandfather clock strikes twelve.

Karlene is passed out in her room while Sierra is reading and her mom is currently pacing back and forth in front of the door.

"Mom" Sierra puts her large book down, "I'm sure dad's fine, he's probably just held up somewhere" her mom stops pacing and shoots her a worried glance.

"Oh, umm, I meant in...like...traffic or something" Sierra quickly corrects herself. But her mom continues to pace.

"But he's never been this late" Sierra's mom throws herself on the nearest piece of furniture, which was a very comfortable armchair.

"I'm sure he's fi–" Sierra cuts herself off with a big yawn "ine" she rubs her eyes.

"You should go to bed, he'll (hopefully) be back here tomorrow" Sierra's mom gets up to plant a kiss on her daughter's forehead.

"R-right" Sierra picks up her book and walks down the hallway to her room. As soon as her door closes, Sierra's mom pulls out her phone to dial her husband's phone.

But on the second to last ring, a sobbing woman picks up. "R-Rose," she sobbing woman says "h-he's go-o-one"

"What! Tina calm down, who's gone?" Rose calmly asks. "R-ri-ick" Tina barely finishes.

The phone nearly slips out of her hand, Rose slides into one of the chairs and readjusts the phone. "M-my Rick?" Is all that she can muster.

Rose slides from the chair to the hardwood floor. "N-no!" She sobs "i-it ca-a-an't be t-r-r-rue." Rose drops her phone and continues to sob hysterically.

After maybe a few minutes or a few hours, Rose's sobs turn into loud whimpers. She shakily picks up her phone, Tina has hung up ages ago.

She tiredly wipes her eyes and looks at the time, one and a half hours have passed. That means she spent one and a half hours sobbing when she wanted to be with her husband.

She shakily pushes herself to her feet. Waves of nausea washes over her as she sits back into the armchair. She decides that she is too tired to walk down the same hallway her girls went.

She instead pulls her knees as close as she can into her chest and wraps her arms around them. She lays her head on them and looks around them empty room.

Memories of her family come flooding in, she glances at the coffee table she and the girls were at, and a memory of them with their dad play a board game makes her smile as more tears form.

She continues to softly cry as she remembers the last time she spoke to her husband. It was before he had to leave for his job.

They were talking about his they were planning on taking their girls out of the country for a vacation. But that idea is now long gone.

Rose continues to softly cry until she falls asleep. She dreams about talking to her husband in a little cafe.

She is rudely awakened by her youngest daughter. "Mommy" she happily says. Rose's bloodshot eyes meet her daughter's beautiful brown eyes.

"Yes, sweetheart?" She croaks, her throat begging for any water.

"Where is daddy?" Karlene asks with a small grin. Tears form in Rose's eyes as the thoughts of last night come flooding back. Perhaps it was a dream?

No. Rose couldn't remember a dream to save her life. "Y-your d-dad's g" she stops herself as her oldest daughter tiredly walks into the room.

She yawns "Karlene, let mom wake up first" Sierra rubs her tired eyes and unceremoniously throws herself onto the couch next to them.

Rose wipes her eyes and sits up straight. "G-girls" she announces "I have something very important to tell you about your father." Both girls sit down and pay attention.

"Your father...he's..." Rose sighs, she takes a deep breath in "he's gone"

"W-what do you mean gone?" Sierra asks.

"I mean your dad is gone, dead, he was...I believe that he was murdered" tears form in her and Sierra's eyes.

Rose looks down at Karlene, half expecting her to be full-on crying and half expecting her to be confused.

But she is the later one. "Daddy isn't coming here?" She furrows her brows as she tries to think "did he leave us?" She looks up at her now crying mom.

"Yes, he left us" she tries to explain, but Karlene starts sobbing "d-di-d he n-not l-o-ove u-s" she cries.

"Oh no baby" her mom says, she gently scoops her up and sits onto the couch next to the sobbing Sierra. "He love-ed us w-with all h-h-is heart" Rose tries not to cry, but she's failing miserably.

"W-will I-I get t-to see h-hi-m aga-ain?" Karlene wails. "Of c-course" Rose reassures her wailing daughter " y-you'll s-see hi-m aga-ain" Rose chokes on a sob.

BANG. BANG. BANG. Rose unwraps her arms that are around Karlene and sets her gently where she was sitting. She quickly walks towards the large dark oak front door. Rose takes a deep breath in, wipes her tears away, and opens the door.

"Hello, Ms. Winster." A tall police officer says in his deep voice. He nervously shifts on his feet. "My name is Dean Sanchez" he holds up his police badge, "and this" he points to his partner. His partner is slightly smaller, with blonde hair and brown eyes. "Is my partner."

"James Riddle" he introduces himself. He politely holds out his hand and shakes Rose's cold hand.

"We've umm...come here to inform you that your husband has be-" Sanchez tries to say but Riddle jabs him in the side.

Rose raises one of her eyebrows "has been what?" She asks, already knowing the answer.

"He's dead," Riddle says bluntly. "James! Be sensitive" Sanchez says. After hours of crying, more tears stream down Rose's face.

"H-how d-id it hap-pen" she sobs.

"We don't really know, it could've been an accident or a murder. We're still looking into it" Riddle explains "but we'll update you on any new information we get."

"O-okay" she sputters out. Sanchez pulls out a tissue from his vest and hands it to Rose. She says a quiet thank you and blows her nose.

The policemen bow their heads and start to walk away. Rose slowly closes the door, leaving a crack to watch them, making sure they left.

Something was off about them, but Rose didn't care enough to question them. She crumbles up the used tissue and places it on the coffee table.

She looks at her two still crying daughters. "How 'bout we get some ice cream?" She offers.

Sierra sneezes and weakly says "okay". Karlene only nods, she does her red and wet face on her soft PJ shirt.

"Go get dressed then we'll leave" Rose calmly says. Both girls get up and head for their bedrooms "and brush your hair Karlene" she calls after the youngest.

Rose looks down at her owns clothes. Pj pants and a hoodie. She sighs and rubs her tired face, she heads for her own room to change.

After five minutes of staring at her husband's clothes, she finally meets the girls in the living room.

"You ready?" She sadly smiles at the girls. Sierra lets out a hiccup and puts her flip flops on. Rose looks at her youngest daughter "did you brush your hair?"

Karlene only nods. Rose sighs and grabs her black leather purse "alright lets go."

Well thanks for reading, I hope y'all like what I do with it annnnd yeah...Oh! Also, I won't be updating this every week as I did with my other fic, the updates will be random

[caraidean]

Slow Turn [Rigelian Raised AU]

Participant(s): Clair, Albein Rudolf II ( @jasperlion​)

Words: 4,908

Type: Base conversation / C Support

Summary: Confronted with the reality of her situation and her nation’s politics, the still-captive Clair starts to sell out Zofia in an attempt to save lives. However, she still comes to verbal blows with her captor, and her situation continues to be precarious. 

At least they’d gotten her a change of clothes. Admittedly it wasn’t the dresses she was used to, but…it wasn’t awful, she would concede that. She didn’t feel like a piece of meat being put on sale anymore at least.

But ye gods, would it kill them to trim down on the furs a little? She’d abandoned the shawl part halfway through the first day and just put up with the glares she’d received from those who thought she was being dismissive. She wasn’t trying to be insulting, she was damn well overheating.

“…”

But handing over some new clothes, taking care of the servants sent with her, and giving them actual sleeping quarters - she’d been afraid it would be some cramped room for all of them, but no, to her surprise, individual rooms - wouldn’t quite get Clair to cooperate with the Rigelians so far. More than absolutely necessary, anyway. For the time being she was satisfied just living out the house arrest that she was essentially in while waiting for the Prince to return, occasionally having to fight down the urge to try and escape.

She might make it. Truly, she might. But not if she wanted to take everyone else with her as well. So she ended up staying, and hoping that her brother or the rest of Zofia wouldn’t do anything reckless to try and save her.

When she went down for breakfast that morning she should have been more surprised to see Albein waiting for her at the table than she was. But a week’s worth of waiting was enough to make her jaded enough to expect that each day aws just some new kind of torture until he’d had his fun and decided to put her out of her misery.

Then again, there was another seat left at the table. She gathered teal skirts in her hand, still not used to the sheer bulkiness of it all (or the corset - seriously, and they called Zofian fashion depraved? At least she could breathe when showing off that much skin) as she sat down across from him as elegantly as she could muster.

“So.” She said as casually as she could while she reached for fruit, cold eyes staring into his defiantly. “Is this my last meal before an execution, then? Or has the Emperor oh so graciously decided to allow me to live?”

She made a slight face as she considered the even worse third option. “Just tell me we aren’t actually expected to be wed after all. I really would rather be…what was that turn of phrase you used when we met? Ah, yes. Strung up by my innards. Delightful.”

-w-w-w-

He curses his cousin under his breath as he prepares himself for the day, mutters about how unfair it is that his Father declared it so once he’s dressed and ready, and grumbles to himself on his way to a very specific dining hall. Getting up early enough in the morn for this was no hard task, he was usually up even earlier to practice his drills, but to have to wake up and preen himself for a Zofian noblewoman?

… A noblewoman proven innocent, mind, so he had to pay respects and be the one to deliver the news; at least, it was what his Father had ruled in private with them. On the upside, he would not have to deal with the diplomatic spectrum outside these halls. On the downside…

Ugh, he’d much rather have his meal in the barracks mess hall and just get back to his training.

If anything, at least he let himself oversleep (training before coming would just mean he’d need more time to clean up), having heard of the woman’s regular habits by now and when she’d likely arrive to eat. So, of course, he arrives early and prepares himself, like any good combatant would, and waited.

And waited.

… When exactly did she normally come by, again?

The sound of footsteps, for the nth time, has him straightening his back from his slouch and clasping his hands together politely at his lap, and now it’s finally not a false alarm as the door opens to find that girl, Claire, on the other side. She… doesn’t look too pleased. Good, neither was he. (The clothes they had sent looked a little odd on that girl…)

It’s funny, most nobility he had dealt with from either side of the Sluice Gate was fond of preamble, and yet Clair never quite bothered with it, heading right to the punch and likely right into getting her neck under an axe. So of course he barks a laugh at her words of defiance, and her implications that she’d rather die than marry him. A good and hearty laugh, reaching for a fruit himself now that he can actually eat instead of waiting for the woman. “Straight to the point and pulling no punches, I like that.” He says, wondering what his reaction would have been had she said that to him the day she arrived.

“Word’s been sent to your house as per the misunderstanding and… plot, but while you and yours are cleared from any willful wrongdoing… you shan’t leave just yet.” Deciding to honor her frontal nature, Albein too gets right to the heart of the matter. “Not until the matter is settled with the Zofian crown— if they had planned to have you die here, would you not say it is quite likely to have you eliminated before you return?”

A pause, and he then continues. “It would put us in quite the position, yes?” It wasn’t about her safety as a person that they were concerned for, after all, and he hoped he had been quite clear. Taking a bite from the fruit in hand, he waits until he swallows before he continues. “Though this whole situation might just be what ignites a war, even if no one died in this… particular incident.”

-w-w-w-

“Yes, clearly. Pulling punches isn’t in your style.” Clair said as evenly as she could, feeling her jaw twinge a little in memory. Still, at least she managed to avoid showing any signs of her physical discomfort at the reminder. Her bravado and bluster was all well and good, but she still wouldn’t want to be beaten again. Skilled as she may be, the Prince was stronger. And without her pegasus here to level the playing field, she wasn’t under any illusions as to how a fight between them would play out.

She allowed her shoulders to sink in relief slightly when she heard that at least her and her companions weren’t found to have done anything wrong, even if they weren’t allowed to leave. That sent a small chill down her spine as she hesitantly bit into her own fruit, glaring daggers at him with a low growl building in her throat. No, no, she shouldn’t rise to his barbs. Besides, he was right, they likely would have died shortly after crossing the border once more if that was their intention.

“If this does ignite the war, at least try to keep in mind that not all of Zofia backed the actions that led to your treatment.” The idea of suggesting that her family and their sympathizers might be convinced to stay out of any conflict or indeed ally with the Rigelian forces made the food taste like ashes in her mouth, but it was better than the alternatives. “Your conceptions of us are based on the abhorrent behavior of our ruling class, not even the entire span of the Nobility.”

She could tell that this line of conversation would be pointless for today, although she could also predict that she’d be having this argument with him time and time again until she was released or finally executed. Speaking of… “So, then, what of me and mine? Are we to be kept in some gilded cage for your amusement after all?”

She paused in horror as one other alternative crossed her mind. Speaking of allying those portions of Zofia…

“Goddess protect me, I was joking about the marriage. If your father thinks anything like that shall happen I assure you I will castrate you in our wedding bed.”

-w-w-w-

Heh, pulling punches not being his style? At least she caught on quick, and it draws an amused huff from the prince. Yet even as he looks forward for even more entertainment, what comes next is quite the opposite.

Clair relief is transparent, but it does not procure amusement from him, simply a twinge of… is it pity? Strong as the woman was, she had truly been worried for the fate of her own, which was something he could at the very least call admirable. He thoughtfully eats the orange after peeling it (quite the popular fruit despite its Zofian origin, apparently), listening to her with calculating eyes.

Conceptions, conceptions… is it not the ruling class that set the example? Even so, he quiets his hackles, instead… delegating himself to observing. … And he can’t help but once more laugh at loud as her expression turns to horror, and she explicitly states her intent to maim him right on the table during mealtime. Hah, when they said Zofians were bold…

“If my hand were that easy to offer, perhaps your fears would have merit. But, as you say… it seems you judge my father by the actions of your ruling class. If I recall… that Lima dog asked for the hand of a lesser noble on our eastern border in return for some emergency supplies some years before my own birth.” And there is no effort to hide the sheer disdain and disrespect he feels for that man in particular, expression turning haughty for a brief moment. Well, at least he had finished the fruit already, lest that bile building in his throat make him lose his apetite.

When were the kitchen hands going to bring the actual food? Gods. He signaled for the one at the door, who scampered away soon after.

“If my marriage were made for political gain, it would stand to be more sensible to marry me off to one of Lima IV’s numerous spawn before your family would even be considered, well known as your brother may be. Your fears are, frankly, misplaced.” With that, he waves the topic off, sighing in relief as they’re finally served a proper course; eggs, dried cod, sausages, some loaves and even more fruit along with some drinks. Eh, worked for him.

“Yourself and yours will be given more permissions among the castle walls, and provided you remain here, all will be well.” Pausing for effect, he continues with a lowered tone of voice, threat clear as day. “However, if you were to leave before matters are settled, well… it would be quite incriminating. Not to mention what awaits you on the other side of the border.”

He waits until his words settle before speaking again. “Is it to your liking?”

-w-w-w-

“I think the last few weeks would have made it clear I am no longer fond of my own ruling class. But considering yours imprisoned me before threatening to murder us for situations beyond our control, I believe it’s fair to say that neither side is exactly ideal in my eyes at the moment.” She said stiffly, although she let her shoulders sag a little in relief when it turned out they weren’t to be wed. Attractive or not, it would likely end with one of them dead in their wedding bed given how their last few conversations had gone.

“What I hear of King Lima’s children is positive, to my surprise.” She narrowed her eyes a little at his brazen insult. She had never met any of them, but the rumors and words of her brother and future sister-in-law made them out to be good kids by comparison to their father. “Perhaps people learn from the mistakes of their parents in Zofia instead of taking inspiration from it.”

She let the thinly veiled insult sit as she reached over, spearing a sausage on one fork and twirling it between her fingers as she glared. What were the odds of him trying to strike her again? To sate her own paranoia she kept her right hand hovering near the knives, pausing to take a bite from the cylinder of meat and blinking in surprise.

“It’s not bad.” She admitted, grudgingly. She rolled her eyes as she finished the sausage, dabbing at her mouth with a cloth as she sighed. “Oh, very well. Myself and mine will stay here in this gilded cage you’ve left for us.”

She smiled, thinly. “Am I to expect that you will be remaining here as well, then? It certainly is an ideal location to plan out what is almost certainly your inevitable offensive against my nation. Or shall I have the joy of meeting our new gaoler sooner than expected?”

-w-w-w-

While Albein’s eyes narrow a little at her clear distaste in himself and his ilk, he instead proceeds to eat as she speaks, making sure to keep his eyes on her at all times. However, it is her jab at his father that stops him midchew and, swallowing whatever he had managed to already mince that was in his mouth, he very carefully and deliberately set his utensils down.

Of course he listens to the rest, of course he mulls over his words before he speaks, but he is no longer relaxed nor laughing or smiling, his expression has turned rather cold.

“If my father’s mistake was not executing you and yours on very fair grounds of numerous insults upon our traditions and treaties, then perhaps I should learn from it.” He all but hisses, threat looming heavily over the atmosphere now. It was only out of Emperor Rudolf’s grace that she wasn’t dead, and she deigns it fine to insult the man?

He wants to just stand and leave— yet to let food go to waste was something he simply could not stand for, and would not, so he forces himself to remain where he sat, despite wishing to demonstrate. He takes a breath, then exhales— if this is what it takes to get to him, then his patience indeed does have an awfully short wick.

“I was asking if the accommodations and arrangements were to your liking, but I suppose the food comes with that.” He finally speaks after a pause drawn out, not to further intimidate the damnable woman, but to simply quell his temper. “As for me…” There is another pause, and he briefly considers what he’s about to say. “… I am a general before I am a prince, and so if my unit marches, I march. That is to say… I do not know if arrangements will change, nor when.” It was, after all, a precarious time and negotiations were ongoing. If the woman was blind to just how big a scandal this whole thing had brought and how they had all been placed on high alert, perhaps this would give her more awareness on the matter.

“It is heavily dependent upon the response of your king. The Earth Mother’s fortune may not be on your side for long.” With that, he continues to eat his meal in silence, mood already foul and dropping by the minute. Yes, it was quite the good thing arrangements were not being done for them to marry — he’d sooner throw the woman to the mountains to survive on her own.

-w-w-w-

“We both know that King Lima is likely to respond poorly.” Clair muttered acidly, stabbing viciously at another sausage to try and calm herself. While Albein certainly found ways to raise her temper, she was finding herself growing angrier and angrier at her…former?…ruler with each passing day. She dabbed at her cheeks with a napkin, scowling down at her own reflection in her plate before letting out a deep and unsatisfied sigh.

Fuck. She was going to have to apologize, wasn’t she.

“You’ve treated us better than I would have ever expected you. Once you stopped threatening to hit us, at least.” Clair said reluctantly, eventually forcing herself to look Albein in the eyes even though her own arrogance and anger made it so difficult. Maybe that would let him see how honest she was being about this.

“…my brother was talking about increased attention on supply deprivation and night assaults during their training exercises recently.” She muttered, shaking her head. Even this much information felt almost wrong to be sharing, even if she both wished to see the top of Zofian society collapse for how she was treated and try to return at least some of the kindness shown to her here. “I would prepare for night raids and keep your supplies more secure. As my very presence here is sure to demonstrate to you, I doubt that Zofian High Command is going to be particularly chivalrous to your forces should war start.”

She stopped, and groaned as the next words came out choked and bitter. “And…I’m sorry.”

-w-w-w-

Albein merely gives a terse nod of assent to her scathing words towards the Zofian ruler, scowl forming on his face at the thought of having to go to war over petty insults, of all things. Yet it is her next words that actually give him pause, turning his expression from barely contained ire to… befuddlement, really.

And certainly, he still feels anger lurking within, the scowling tug at his lips remain and his emotions still flare with a defensive air—

        but to see this Zofian earnestly cede ground with an honest gaze despite how difficult she finds it to do, it is not something he would have expected to witness in his lifetime.

… Nor the intel, which he would ensure to bring to the attention of the Rigelian army as a whole. The last thing they needed was supply raids, not when they had oh so little and Zofia thrived on riches bestowed upon them by their God.

So he closes his eyes, taking a breath to try to cool the flames that still raged in his heart, let them simmer into embers that still stung even now. “… I too have not been the most stellarly behaved man.” He says, voice softening, even if he still sounded tense and angered. One breath, then another, and he puts thought into… what he actually just said.

It leaves him feeling a little more confused than anything, like he needed to think everything through more carefully— when he was alone. Clearing his throat, he proceeds and pushes the thoughts to the side for now. “I apologize as well.”

Still… there is value in what he had learned. “The information you have provided will be helpful in keeping my men alive and fed. I… understand it is difficult to share.” He wasn’t sure he ever would have, and perhaps it is what made the apology the most genuine in his eyes… if true. “… Thank you.”

… It was a struggle when he still felt like he should be angry, really, but perhaps it’s time he acknowledge that he’s not the only person with feelings in the room. Surely, now, he would be closer to understanding what kindness truly was. “… I will keep your words of the children of Lima in mind.” Discreetly, he finds himself rubbing the back of his left hand with his right, forcing himself to stop and instead… finish his food. Preferably in silence.

-w-w-w-

“If this war is inevitable then it would be for the best for it to end as swiftly as possible one way or another. And with how you have treated us recently…I fear that the preferred ending may be through your kingdom’s victory. I cannot say that my own royalty would treat their own captives with the same kindness.” She paused, glancing up from the floor and letting her eyes meet his for a brief moment.

In that instant, there was understanding. She was starting to see the kind of person that Albein really was, see past the initial barriers of callousness and, yes, even past the fact she found the man attractive. This was the kind of man who genuinely cared, even if his way of showing it was poor. Her jaw twinged a little.

“Well. To correct myself, I suppose it is better to say they would be more like the first few hours I spent here. Except stretched out over months, and with increasing levels of depravity.” She said in a forced light tone as she glared for an instant before looking away guiltily.

“I would suggest familiarizing yourself with combat in the air as well. In my last year of training I noticed that the entrance qualifications for the pegasus knights had drastically dropped since I began…I fear that this may well have been for a reason.” She paused again and asked in a more timid voice. “My mount…has  Bucephalus been treated properly? I know the animals were fed and watered, but I haven’t been allowed to see him since.”

-w-w-w-

His eyes flicker to her whenever she speaks, paying rapt attention even as he quietly finishes his own meal. His expression does, however, contort to a scowl at the thought of Zofian imprisonment; it sounded rather barbaric. Sure, as Clair and her people had been under review for actions that were unclear, the accomodations were what was considered decency — and had they been condemned of wrongdoing, they’d have been moved to proper cells…

But prolonging suffering with depravity felt unnecessary, almost akin to whatever those Faithful loyalists had been getting onto ever since the Faith changed leadership from Halcyon. It was… Gods, it certainly made him wish to have a word or two of his own.

His expression calms, however, when she tries to advice further, advice that gives him thought: their own pegasus division was lacking, if anything due to how finicky the mounts were, and how far less hardy they were in the cold. While bolstering their mounted archers would definitely help with skyward threats, he would most definitely consider proposing to his father that they look into better ways to care for and maintain pegasi healthy and active throughout the year in the northernmost part of the country. And, well, of course she’s worried about…. her beast. The thought makes him let out a noise of amusement after all the silence, and he swallows down the last of the food before he finally speaks to her.

“Your mount is as willful as you are. He is in the stables, fit as can be, though we do not know how he has been trained. As such… he has a harness now that doubles as a coat for warmth, but it is mostly so the beast does not… fly off. It would be a shame to confuse your pegasus for an enemy or even a fleeing one and see him shot down— but I assume being grounded has made him temperamental. I can’t say I blame him.” Might as well get… that out of the way first, since the woman did seem worried over the beast.

Ah, he couldn’t say much on the matter or even make fun of her— he too would be distraught if his favorite destrier had been kept from him in foreign lands. “As you and yours status has shifted to protected… guests… I am to assume you should be capable of visiting the stables from henceforth. Provided you both… remain within the premises.”

It is… not a threat, surprisingly, but rather a cautionary tone that he carries in his words, which he seems to delay to think through how to say things. He can’t just… throw words around, anymore.

“… You can be certain all you have told me will make its way to the Emperor’s ears. It is invaluable.” Dipping his head respectfully, he eyes her with mild curiosity, even if she had already told him her reasons. She would rather the conflict end swiftly… in their favor… and with minimal losses. Well… he could empathize with it. “Let us hope whatever comes of this mess ends quickly. I’ve no taste for needless slaughter. …Nor do I fancy your description of Zofian customs towards prisoners. I am… surprised, really.”

Honestly, he had thought them to not even be able to stomach the concept of keeping prisoners or something. He… had some research to do.

The prince remains seated, however, despite his thoughts that he truly should be elsewhere — it was rude to leave without waiting for her to be done, correct? … Maybe? He wasn’t sure if it was the same in Zofia, actually…

-w-w-w-

“Bucephalus is more than a mount. Not that I would expect you to understand the kind of bond that forms between a pegasus and their rider.” Clair said in a heated voice, eyebrows narrowing for a brief second. She wondered if it was worth the risk of the careful, knife-edge peace they’d established between them collapsing to tear into him a little more before she bit her tongue and let it pass.

Not that she didn’t want to, and she expected that he’d see that. Hopefully he’d let the temporary spike of acidity pass as she swirled water in her mouth and swallowed with a light grimace.

Perhaps she should have only metaphorically bitten her tongue.

“I would rather no war happen. But given my newfound feelings towards King Lima and his advisors…I suppose I can hardly be blamed for wishing to turn my coat. At least partially.” She hesitated. “I cannot say if you could use my cooperation to convince my parents to work with you, but my brother and his fiancee would be more amenable to listening should they see I am unharmed.”

A smirk flickered across her face for a moment, shaking her head. “Once he is finished with attempting to fillet you under the assumption you must have ravished me or such, that is. I dare say I would hate to see you perish, but perhaps a light beating in exchange for the one you gave me when we first met would be acceptable.”

-w-w-w-

Albein’s expression goes from mildly amiable to closed off and cautious the moment her voice heats and she makes a big deal and assumption over… words that are facts. The pegasus is a mount, as much as any war horse is, no matter how beloved and bonded. And the people of Rigel were known horsemen—! “For one who hates assumptions, you are quick to make your own.” He hisses in turn, standing from his seat. He’d tolerate this no longer than he absolutely had to. He had tried, Gods as witnesses, to be ‘reasonably understanding’, yet she would continue this testy little game…!

“We shall see how negotiations go with your kin. However, should your brother run off on his assumptions, I will not be holding back to defend my honor. I’ll not be compared to lecherous pigs.” No Rigelian worth their salt would let themselves just be beat upon false accusations, and he wasn’t about to be the first.

There’s a pause as he glowers down towards Clair, tension in the air thick and heavy, before he finally exhales once more and turns. “… We do not make habit to toss food here. Make sure to finish it.”

… That’s all he has to say to this damnable Zofian. It well may be that he has plenty to think of, but he’ll not lower himself to standing her company any longer when all she did was prod at his sides! He refused to lower himself to such. With a huff, he stalks off towards the doors.

-w-w-w-

“I understand.” Clair said quietly, aware that she must have crossed a line - but unwilling to admit her defeat. The lecherous pigs comment made her flinch back, eyes blazing in anger for a brief moment before she instead bit her tongue and looked to the side, unable to meet his gaze. No, that one was her fault, almost entirely.

She watched him leave in silence, for a brief moment considering that she should possibly stand up and apologize - but, no. She wasn’t there yet. She already felt sick for how she was selling out her nation, even if it was the only truly moral option she had available to herself - she couldn’t bring herself to debase herself in such a manner.

“Try not to choke on your own tongue muttering to yourself.” She grumbled once he was gone, shaking her head. She frowned, seeing that her hand was shaking nervously as she lowered her fork down to the table.

“…blast it…” She muttered to herself. She just hoped that when the death tolls from the war she’d just helped start came in, they wouldn’t keep her awake for too long each night.

The guilt was already eating at her.