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lilys42 · 7 months ago

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Bandmates (Josh Dun)- Chapter Three

Warnings: anxiety/anxiety attack

Later that evening, Rhea feels as though she’s given me plenty of time to stew in my own sadness and throws a black sequin dress at me where I lay on the couch watching SpongeBob reruns.

“Get dressed Dani. We’re going to the open mic.” She commands. I debate arguing that I want to stay here, but it’s no use. She’s as stubborn as can be and gives me a look like she knows exactly what I’m thinking.

“Fine. I assume this is what I’m wearing?” I inspect the dress and vaguely recognize it. It was one I used to wear all the time when Rhea and I would go bar hopping years ago. It since has drifted to the back of my closet, forgotten. I hadn’t worn it in so long because the band insisted I wear things that were more modest. It’s low-cut, short, and the sequins are loud. I’ll surely stand out in the bar, which is the last thing I want right now. Unfortunately, it’s the first thing Rhea wants.

“I’ll give you a smokey eye and some fishnets to go with it.” She smirks, clearly hell-bent on this mission to get me back on my feet.

“I don’t even know if this dress fits anymore, Rhea. I haven’t worn it in years, since I had to hold your hair back while you threw up in a bush on the side of the road after one too many tequila shots.”

“Yeah, that was a rough night. But think of it as your Princess Diana revenge dress. You’re gonna go out there, show all these assholes what you’re made of, and you’ll have a hundred bands lined up wanting you to be their lead singer.” I smile despite my sour mood. As always, her words are enough to persuade me, and I get dressed and let her do my makeup. With the spaghetti strap dress, the tattoo on my left arm is in full view. It’s a Twenty One Pilots tattoo I got when I turned eighteen. The lyrics read “The sun will rise and we will try again.” Lyrics from one of my favorite songs, Truce. Underneath it is their symbol. I got it after going through severe mental health struggles; those words always reminded me to stay alive, and that even if I’d had a bad day, I could try again tomorrow. I still get emotional whenever I hear that song.

I take my hair out of its half-hearted ponytail and decide to leave it down for the night. The one thing I put my foot down on is heels. I never, ever wear heels onstage. I tried it once, and I nearly fell over; by the end of our set, one of the heels was broken and my feet were aching. I put on a pair of worn Converse instead.

“Ready?” Rhea asks.

“I suppose.”

“What are you going to sing tonight?”

“I’m not sure yet. I definitely want to do something upbeat.” I say. I scroll through my playlists and try to pick a song.

“Something Twenty One Pilots I’m assuming.” Rhea smirks at me as we walk to her car.

“How ever could you have known?” I say sarcastically. Once we get to the bar, I go over to one of the employees and get them to put my name down to sing. I also tell them the song I chose so that they can have a backing track of the instrumentals for me. Rhea gets us both drinks, and I down half of mine in one gulp. I’ll definitely need the liquid courage, as I haven’t performed by myself in a long time.

“So, what did you pick?” Rhea asks me as she takes a few sips of her usual drink, a Redbull and vodka.

“Holding Onto You. It’s got a lot of interesting vocals in it, so I figured it’d show off my range pretty well, especially at the bridge.” I explain.

“Good choice.” Rhea and I talk for a few more minutes, then the employee calls my name. I also told them to make the audience aware that I’m looking for a band to play with, and I cross my fingers that there’s some interested musicians in the room.

“Go get ‘em, Diana.” Rhea pats me on the back encouragingly. I walk up to the uncomfortably empty stage and try not to think about how much my hands are sweating. My heart starts to beat faster, and it almost feels like the first time I performed. I was riddled with anxiety, but at least I had my bandmates to talk me through the panic attack backstage. This time, it’s just me and the microphone.

I step onto the stage, take a deep breath, and give a thumbs up to the sound guy. He starts the music, and once I hear those first few notes and drumbeats, a sense of calm washes over me. The sense of peace and control that I get when I sing anchors me, and I begin the song confidently. I ignore the crowd and look towards Rhea in the back of the room. She’s grinning from ear to ear, and her silent encouragement takes away the last shreds of my fear. I start to move around the stage like I always do, and I notice a couple people that know the song singing the lyrics back to me.

I make it through the first verse and chorus with ease, then I stumble. There’s a short instrumental break where I look behind me out of habit to smile at Lukas and Flynn. But they aren’t there. There’s only empty space and the curtain that marks the end of the stage. The second verse starts before I’m ready, and I fight to come back in. But I lose my place and I can’t remember which lyrics I’m supposed to be singing. I look to the back of the room for Rhea, but she isn’t there. I’m completely alone. Everyone’s eyes are on me, on the deer in headlights wearing a stupid sparkly dress that catches every single ray of light, and I am completely, utterly alone. I don’t have a band to back me up, only an instrumental track. That’s still playing. It’s in the second chorus now, and there’s no way in hell I can redeem myself at this point. I can’t seem to calm my breathing either, and I clutch my chest. My lungs can’t get enough air. My eyes dart around the room, at all the expectant people looking at me, and I falter. I can’t do it.

I put the mic back on the stand and rush behind the curtain. I find a dark corner backstage with no people in my way and collapse to the ground. From here, I can hear the backing track stop and the confused murmurs all around the bar. It’s too much. I clamp my hands over my ears and squeeze my eyes shut. Tears threaten to break through, but I fight them. I try to fight the panic attack that’s coming on too, but it’s no use. That’s when a pair of hands grabs my wrists and pulls them away from my ears, pushing my knees down so that my head is in view. I keep my eyes shut tightly so I don’t have to look at the stranger, who’s probably an employee trying to tell me I can’t be back here.

“Hey.” A familiar male voice speaks gently. I open my eyes and look down at a pair of scuffed vans that lead to black jeans and a black tank top. And very familiar looking tattoos. I drag my eyes up to his face, and my suspicions are confirmed. Tyler Joseph, the lead singer of Twenty One Pilots, is looking back at me.

“Tyler?” I ask weakly, still not fully convinced I’m not dreaming.

“Yeah. Are you okay?” He asks.

“Um, I—” I look behind him, and another familiar person is crouched on the floor as well. Josh Dun, Tyler’s best friend and drummer. He smiles at me, and I nearly melt. Oh God, this makes things so much worse. They saw me fuck up their song. I start to panic again, and my lungs constrict. I can barely breathe, and my hands are sweating, and my vision is going blurry, and I need to get out of here-

“Look at me.” Tyler says, gentle but commanding. I meet his gaze and feel tears run down my face.

“Breathe with me.” He takes a deep breath in through his nose, and I follow as he exhales through his mouth. He does it several more times, and I can feel my heart rate decreasing as my body leaves fight or flight mode. Josh comes closer to me and grabs one of my hands, wiping away my tears with the other. My eyes dart back and forth between them, not knowing who to focus on.

“Close your eyes.” Tyler suggests. “Feel the floor beneath you, feel Josh’s hand, feel your breathing. Listen to my voice and focus on it.” I do as he says and let the panic attack fade away, bringing me back to the present moment. Josh Dun, my celebrity crush since middle school, is holding my fucking hand. I open my eyes after a few moments and look at them.

“How do you feel?” Tyler asks.

“Better. Thank you.” I say.

“I’m going to go get you some water, okay? Stay right here.” I nod, and Tyler disappears into the dark.

“I’m sorry.” I look at Josh, and he furrows his brows.

“For what?”

“I freaked out and messed up your song. It’s just, I haven’t performed by myself in a long time.” I explain.

“You have nothing to apologize for. Honestly, Tyler and I were honored when you stepped up on that stage and started singing our music. Awesome tattoo by the way.” We smile at each other.

“Thanks. My band just broke up, so I came here in search of some new people to play with. But then I panicked, because I was alone on that stage, and my friends weren’t backing me up. I’m not used to being without them, so it really spooked me.” Tyler returned by the time I was done explaining the source of my panic attack and handed me a bottle of water. I accepted it gratefully and took a couple sips.

“I’ve had panic attacks in public before too, so I know how you feel. I know how dark it is, getting inside your own head and not being able to claw your way back out. I hope it’s okay that we came back here. I just couldn’t stand leaving you to fend for yourself during a moment like that. I find it’s always better to have someone there to ground you and talk you through it.” Tyler says. I catch him squinting in the darkness to read my tattoo, and he smiles to himself. He must like it too, then.

“I really appreciate it. But of all people, I didn’t expect it to be you two.” I laugh, then suddenly remember Rhea is probably searching for me. “Shit, I need to go find my friend.” I stand up, and the guys immediately stand with me. Josh lets go of my hand, and I try to ignore how empty it suddenly feels. “Um, do you guys mind coming with me? I don’t want to walk out there alone.” I look at the ground, but Josh tilts my chin up with his finger to make eye contact with me.

“Of course. What was your name again?”

“Dani.” They both nod, then lead me back out to the bar. Some people stare, but Tyler and Josh sandwich me in between them protectively.

“Oh, there she is. Rhea!” I point to my best friend, and they lead me over to her.

“Shit, there you are. I was worried sick, are you okay?” She hugs me immediately and eyes the two men behind me suspiciously.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m fine. I’ll tell you about it later. By the way, this is Tyler and Josh. Guys, this is Rhea.” I introduce the three, and Rhea suddenly looks at me with wide eyes.

“This is them? No way! Nice to meet you guys.” She shakes both their hands and they each smirk at the fact that I’ve clearly talked about them enough for my best friend to recognize their names.

“I think maybe we should go. This revenge dress is really attracting unwanted attention.” I say, looking around at all the people eyeing the girl who freaked out onstage.

“Oh, yeah of course. Let’s head out the back door.” Rhea leads us outside, Tyler and Josh in tow. I explain everything that happened once I’m able to breathe in some fresh air.

“Fuck Dani, I’m so sorry. I wish I could’ve helped you.” Rhea drags a hand down her face.

“It’s okay. I had these two.” I gesture to the guys, who each give me their signature smiles.

“You know, in a twisted way this actually works out pretty well. Josh and I have been looking for someone to tour with us for our new album and add something special to a couple of the songs on our set. Would you be interested?” Tyler asks me. I look at Rhea, and her jaw is on the floor.

“Oh, um. I, uh—” I stammer.

“You don’t have to give us an answer yet. I understand everything that happened tonight is a lot to process. I can give you my number, and you can communicate with me what you’re thinking. How about that?” His patience and understanding immediately made me want to say yes, but this would be a big step. It’s something I should definitely mull over for a few days.

“That sounds great. Thank you so much. For everything.” I look at both of them when I say that.

“I’ll give you mine too, just in case you need anything.” Josh offers. Both the guys put their numbers in my phone, and we say our goodbyes for the time being. I get in Rhea’s car and stare out the window, shell-shocked.

“Oh. My. Fucking. God.” Rhea says, taking the words right out of my mouth.

“Yeah. Holy shit. Not only did I meet my favorite band, but they want me to tour with them.”

“You’re gonna say yes, right?” Rhea is grinning from ear to ear, and so am I.

“I want to. Obviously I want to. But going on tour with Twenty One Pilots would completely change my life. I’d be on the road for who knows how many months, and it would be a much bigger production than I’m used to. It would completely uproot me.”

“And that’s a bad thing because?”

“I’m just saying I really need to think about it. When the excitement and adrenaline has worn off and I can make a rational decision.” I say.

“I guess you’re right.” Rhea is silent for a moment, then says, “But wouldn’t it be so fucking cool to hang out with your celebrity crush every day? He’s single, right?”

“Oh, shut up.” I smile despite myself.

“What? I saw the way he was looking at you. That dress was the right choice for tonight.” My eyes jerk towards her.

“What are you talking about? How was he looking at me?” I mean, Josh did hold my hand and look at me sort of flirty, but I thought he was just being nice.

“Like he wanted to eat you up.” She enunciates the last word to make her point.

“No way. You’ve gotta be lying.”

“Are you kidding? Is Josh Dun having a crush on you really so far out of the realm of possibilities? After everything that’s happened tonight?” She has a point.

“I guess not.” I say quietly.

Once we get home, I shower off my smeared makeup and am finally glad to get out of that dress and into comfier clothes. I lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking about the opportunity I’ve been given. Touring with Twenty One Pilots would not only keep me afloat financially until I can find another band to work with long term, but it will open up my future as a musician so much more. Not to mention, I get to hang out with Tyler and Josh every day. I can’t stop thinking about Josh in particular. His hand in mine, callused from years of drumming. His kind eyes and that damn smile. And suddenly I stopped thinking about my career. I start thinking about how my life would change if Josh actually did like me back.

#twenty one pilots #josh dun #tyler joseph

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watchmegetobsessed · 4 years ago

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Waiting for you - Harry Styles

❄️ FANFICmas 2020 ❄️

Read more about FANFICmas here!

i wrote it over like a month ago, but kept it for today, i hope yall will like it! it’s a cute bestfriends to lovers fic, so yeah... happy holidays, hope you are having an amazing time!

word count: 13k

masterlist

Harry Styles has been a household name around your home, but not for the reason many would think. While for the rest of the world he was the famous singer, former member of One Direction and recent solo artist, the guy who performs at the biggest arenas, wins awards and sings his heart out through the radio, for you and your mom he was the goofy, curly haired boy who lived across the street with his mum, sister and stepdad.

You still remember all too clear the first time you met him. You and your mum just moved into your new home after the nasty divorce of your parents, ready to start a new life. You’ve barely turned twelve, it was quite the awkward stage of your teenage years, you were still trying to find yourself on the rocky road of growing up. Moving to a whole new town and switching schools were terrifying and you had quite a few nightmares about possible outcomes of being the new girl in the neighborhood.

You and your mum just finished unpacking the dishes in the kitchen when the doorbell rang. She rushed to answer it and you wandered behind her, curiously peeking at the guests under her arm as she held the door open.

“Hi! We saw the trucks and thought we would say hi! I’m Anne and this is my son, Harry,” the nice woman greeted your mum and stepping aside she gestured towards the teenage boy standing next to her.

His green eyes fell to you almost immediately and you forgot to breathe for a moment. You were not the kind to crush that easily on guys, well, not until you laid your eyes on Harry. He smirked at you, nodding in your way in such an easy-going manner and you could feel the heat crawling up your neck to your cheeks and ears.

Anne and your mum quickly became good friends. She was the rock your mum definitely needed after such a bad year behind her and you were glad she found support in such a wonderful woman as Anne. Their newly funded friendship got stronger day by day until the two families just… simply felt one.

Growing up the Styles siblings and Anne came and go in your home as if they lived there too. On many occasions you came home from school only to find Anne in the kitchen while your mother wasn’t even home. Anne always knew when your mum was working the night shift at the hospital where she was a nurse and always made sure you had a warm dinner on those evenings, often inviting you over to just stay at theirs while your mum was away working. Birthdays, graduations, Easters and Christmases, they were all spent at either yours or at the Styles home, strengthening the bond between the two families.

You have always had a strong friendship with Gemma, but maybe because you were closer in age or for something else, but you became the closest with Harry. Two peas in a pod, as your mums liked to call the two of you. You weren’t just neighbors or good friends, it was clear to anyone and to both of you as well that you were the best of friends. You were there for each other at the best and worst of times, before and after Harry’s launch to stardom. You were there with him all along, sometimes physically, sometimes just through text messages and reassuring calls when he just needed a piece of his home away from home. Late night calls and talks were your usual when he was on the road and he made sure to only talk about his life after you’ve told him everything about yours, even if the most interesting thing was that you were able to buy three socks for the price of two. Harry listened and cared for everything that happened to you, not letting you think even for a moment that he would forget about his best friend when he is on the other side of the planet.

The two of you grew up together and while his life consisted of concerts, screaming fans, telly appearances and award shows, your mundane everydays went on the same was as any normal young girl’s: you graduated from high school, went to uni and then started a career for yourself. As time was moving it became a little more and more complicated to stay as close as you used to, though, both of you terribly busy with your own personal lives, so the calls, texts and meetings became less frequent, but you were always able to pick up from where you left, it was as easy with him as it could be.

Maybe that’s why you grew to love him in a more than friendly way through the years. Slowly, but surely you started to realize what an amazing man he really was –is. It was impossible not to fall for him, however you valued your close friendship more than to just ruin it with dropping a bomb on Harry. You always thought he doesn’t feel the same way, so you were sadly left with your daydreams and fantasies about him only your bedroom walls heard.

This year it’s gonna be the tenth Christmas you get to celebrate together, quite the anniversary. There were only two years when you didn’t see each other during the holidays, the first one because you and your mum spent it in Canada with some relatives that live there, and the second one was because Harry couldn’t come home a few years ago, having a too tight schedule. But this year, everyone made sure to make it back home in time. Harry called you three month before Christmas to check in if you are still gonna coming home.

“Would be an idiot not to. Can’t wait to stuff my head with cookies!” you chuckled.

“Have you found your sweater yet?” Harry questioned, the muffled noise of the traffic around him broke through the line as he was on his way home when he called.

“Not yet. But I’ve been looking. I’m pretty sure I’m gonna win this year,” you smirked in victory.

“Oh, not so fast with the assumptions, little girl!” he warned you making you laugh.

The two of you had a kind of tradition. Every year, you go on mission to find the ugliest Christmas sweaters one could find, and then perform a chosen song at the karaoke machine after dinner, entertaining the rest of the family. Those performances are the best memories you nurse. Your absolute favorite one was just a couple of years ago when Harry’s sweater was filled with weird looking reindeers in quite inappropriate poses, he even added a glittery pair of sunnies and he sang I Want To Break Free from the Queen. Everyone was on the floor laughing as he took the living room by storm as if it was the Maddison Square Garden filled with thousands of screaming fans, while it was just the five of you.

He won that year, Hell, even you voted on him, giving him the cleanest win of all times, but you swore to live up to that performance and you really feel like this year is gonna be your chance to live up to that promise. You have quite some tricks up your sleeves.

These past couple of years you were anxiously waiting for the holidays to roll around, because you knew you would get to spend so much time with Harry and through the year, even with several occasions of the two of you meeting, you missed him dearly. Sometimes you selfishly wished he would have just stayed the boy across the street so your lives could take tracks that run at least close to each other, but you always reminded yourself that his work was his life and you would have never taken away his true passion and happiness. Besides, you love watching him perform from time to time, that was just one of your favorite sides of him, see his eyes shine so bright as he sang to his fans. You used to envy the fangirls, it always seemed like he had a special connection with them, but you realized that you were one of them. You felt the same excitement when he stepped on the stage, you bought all his albums, even though he made sure you’d be one of the first people to get your hands on it. You had a second copy of them, because buying it gave you the extra jolt of happiness and the feeling that you were a tiny part of his success too. You watched all his music videos, knew the lyrics to his songs and cheered on him whenever he won another award. Difference was that at the end of the day you could call him and tell him how proud you were of him and he stared back at you with that beautiful grin, his dimples digging deep in his cheeks, telling you that he wouldn’t be here without you. You always knew he just said it to make you feel special, but he insisted it was the truth.

“I’m telling you. It you weren’t with me I would have gone crazy already, pulling a Justin Bieber or summat. Don’t think you are any less than what you are, that’s just daft.”

Every time he said something along those lines those damned butterflies in your stomach went crazy and you tried your best to ignore them. You didn’t always succeed, but the effort was there.

Now it’s two days before Christmas and you are already standing in your old room after coming home from London, leaving your small but cozy little apartment empty until the next year. The walls are still the same lilac color you chose when you were fourteen, a twin bed is pushed against the wall under your window, the wardrobe’s door is littered with old pictures from high school and ones you cut out from magazines. You just never got around to take them down and after a while it brought you a comforting sense every time you came home. A warm nostalgia took over you when you saw them, so they eventually stayed.

Your suitcase is lying on the floor as you unpack some stuff you’ll be using often during your stay, but you don’t get far in the packing when you hear an all too familiar voice coming from downstairs. Leaving your stuff as it is you rush down and throw your arms around Anne from behind, who is standing in the kitchen with your mum.

“My sweet angel! How are you?!” she cheers turning around in your hold to hug you back, giving you a tight squeeze before she pushes you away so she can have a good look on you. “Swear you get prettier every time I see you!”

“Stop it, my head’s gonna get big,” you chuckle feeling yourself blushing a little.

“Never gonna stop praising my daughter,” she smiles and gifts you with a cheeky wink.

Anne was never shy to let you know that she thought of you as a second daughter and you still remember how it felt when she called you that for the first time. It felt nice to know that you could count on her no matter what.

The three of you chat in the kitchen, Anne asks you about your job and how things have been going, she hasn’t seen you in a while. You missed the times when you could just go across the street and have a talk with her whenever you wanted, but since you’ve moved to London, Harry wasn’t the only one you didn’t get to see as often as you would have wanted. Your job and life overall got you so busy sometimes, you barely had time to call your own mum.

“Harry is arriving this evening. Wanna come with us to fetch him up at the airport?” she asks you and of course you say yes. You wouldn’t miss the chance to greet him with a bone crushing hug just after he lands.

However, as the time nears when you’d have to leave to the airport, Anne calls you up and asks if you could go on your own.

“I didn’t finish cooking and Gems is in an online meeting. Would you mind if you went alone?” she asks and though it sounds a little made up, you don’t question her.

On your way to the airport you are nervously drumming on the wheel, the thought of seeing Harry excites and worries you a little. It’s been months since you last seen him in the flesh and though you’ve talked plenty of times on the phone and in video calls, it’s just not the same. You find yourself wondering if he still smells the same, if you’ll fit the same way into his embrace as before. When you were younger you often liked to think about the two of you as two pieces of legos when you hugged. Your frame just fitted so perfectly against his body, he was your absolutely favorite person to hug.

Standing in a corner at the terminal, you keep checking the board until his flight’s status changes to landed. Then your eyes are glued to the sliding glass doors, knowing well it’s gonna take him some time to get his bags and walk out, but you are just way too excited to finally see him again.

People start walking through the doors and your head perks up every time you see a slightly tall frame, only to realize it’s still not him. Until it is.

You can’t bite your growing smile back when you spot him, a beanie and the hood of his hoodie covering his mop of hair, sunnies hiding his eyes, but you’d recognize him even from just the tiniest detail. You push yourself away from the wall as you see him look around, probably searching for his mum and sister, because he was already on his way when Anne decided it’s gonna be you who fetches him up, so he doesn’t know about the change.

“Excuse me, can I get a picture?” you ask teasingly walking up to him and for a moment you can tell he believes it’s a fan who recognized him, but his face quickly changes once his eyes land on you.

“Fo’ fuck’s sake, you had me for a second,” he breathes out, his arms already reaching out to pull you against him and you gladly envelop yourself into his hold. “What are you doing here?” he mumbles tightening his arms around you, and you don’t mind it. As you face is pressed into his shoulder you smile when you realize that he still smells the same. Like home.

“Your mum asked me to come and get you because she didn’t finish cooking. But if you ask me she just wanted to surprise you with me. You happy to see me?” you smirk up at him letting your head fall back so you could look into his eyes.

“Always,” he grins before placing a soft kiss to your temple and letting go of you.

The two of you leave the terminal before anyone could recognize him and packing his stuff up into the car you head back home.

You hand your phone over to him once you hit the road so he can be in charge of the music and it’s no surprise when he starts playing Christmas music straight away. Grinning to yourself you glance over at him and see him scrolling through your camera roll like the nosy little gremlin that he is.

“Hey! I did not give you permission to snoop around my phone!” you warn him, but don’t try to snatch it away from him, there’s really nothing he shouldn’t see, besides, half of those pics have been sent to him through messages.

“Just tryna catch up w’ you,” he mumbles under his breath, continuously opening up photos he is interested in. “New couch, eh?” he asks showing you the screen for a second.

“Yeah, bought it a few weeks ago. You like it?”

“Looks comfy. I should try it out sometime.”

“You never sleep on my couch, what are you talking about?”

“Right, you always drag me t’ your bed,” he snorts and you gasp at him, smacking his chest gently.

“That’s so not true! You always just arbitrarily make yourself comfortable in my bed and I don’t have the heart to kick you out,” you correct him.

There hasn’t been many times when Harry crashed at your place, but when he did, he always slept in your bed with you, and the two of you have shared a bed a few other times prior too. It’s nothing new, though it does have a deeper meaning for you than for him, you think. Waking up with Harry snoring lightly next to you, admiring how peaceful and beautiful he is in this intimate state, you just wish you could see him like this all the time.

Harry smirks at you cheekily, scrunching his nose as he chuckles.

“’Cause I wouldn’t want to sleep anywhere else, Love,” he says before turning his attention back to your phone while you try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach at the nickname.

It’s quite late by the time you get home, you’ve run into some traffic, but it just meant more time with Harry. You gladly listened to his stories and you are happy you got some alone time with him. Parking up to your driveway you help him unload his bags before locking the car.

“Wanna go to the Christmas market in the morning? Promised Gemma I’d go with her and Michal,” he asks, slowly walking down the driveway towards his home.

“Uh, sure,” you nod smiling. Not that you had any other plans, the holidays are reserved for family and the Styles’ are family.

“Great, I’ll be here at ten. And thanks for the ride,” he smirks waving goodbye and you watch him cross the street before he disappears in his home and you do the same.

“Y/N? Is that you?” your mum calls out when you walk in.

“Were you expecting anyone else?” you ask, hanging your coat before you join her in the living room.

“Not,” she smiles giddily. “Was everything alright at the airport?”

You throw your legs over her lap and she squeezes your ankles playfully.

“Yeah, everything fine.”

“How is Harry?”

“Cheeky and smug, as always,” you huff smirking.

“Can’t wait to see him. I feel like I haven’t seen ‘im in ages.”

“When are they coming over tomorrow?”

“Anne said she’ll come around four to help me cook, the rest I don’t know. Dinner will be done around seven though.”

“I’m pretty sure Gemma and Harry will be here along with Anne,” you snort, knowing well they wouldn’t miss a chance to come over, especially Harry. He has been talking nonstop how he’ll be glued to your hip once he is back home, making up for all the time you’ve spent apart.

“They surely will,” your mum chuckles before you both turn your attention at the telly.

You go to bed way after midnight and finish up the packing you left abruptly when you left to get Harry. Shuffling around in your room you glance out the window and see that the light in Harry’s room is on too. Peeking out you lean against the window’s frame, thinking about the times when the two of you sat in the window, talking on the phone after curfew, keeping your voice down so your parents didn’t wake up, sharing secrets and your silliest thoughts. With Harry, you never felt like you had to keep anything back, he would have never judged you for anything, you could be your true self around him and vice versa.

A tall figure appears at the window and as Harry glances out his window he is quick to see you sitting on the window sill, your head resting against the frame. The two houses are not far away from each other and you see him grinning as he sits at the window as well, pulling out his phone, a moment later yours starts buzzing on the nightstand. You quickly grab it, and go back to the window.

“Creeping on me, eh?” he hums into the phone and you roll your eyes at him.

“Was just admiring the street lights, don’t flatter yourself, your head is getting too big,” you huff, but you can’t push your smirk down.

“Admit it, you were hoping to see me roam around naked, weren’t you?”

“As if I haven’t seen you like that before,” you snort making him laugh too. It’s true, Harry has never been shy to get rid of his clothes and he also doesn’t bother to draw the blinds whenever he is changing. You once saw him butt naked when he was nineteen, and when you told him to close the blinds next time he is changing, he just shrugged with a smug smile.

“’M not ashamed of anything, Love,” he told you and you had to turn away because you were blushing for sure.

“Right, you’re a fan of putting yourself on full display when you’re naked, almost forgot,” you chuckle shaking your head. “Millions of girls have the picture of you, lying naked on their walls.”

“You one of them?” he cheekily asks.

“Nah, doesn’t go well with the vibe of my apartment.”

“Shame. Though I think it would definitely look amazin’ above your bed, Love.”

“Now would it? I don’t know about that.”

“I’ll get you a copy framed,” he smirks and you can see it clear even from the distance. “Y’ know what? I’ll make you an exclusive one. One that nobody else has, how does that sound?”

“I can’t believe you, Styles,” you chuckle shaking your head. “I’m not gonna answer this, just gonna head to bed. You should too.”

“So we’re not sharing any secrets like we used to? Thought you’d have something fo’ me.”

“You know everything, Harry,” you sigh with a soft smile, though your heart skips a beat. He does know everything, except one big, fat, heavy secret you’ve been carrying around for way too long, that will probably stay with you forever.

“Right. Okay, I’ll see you tomorrow.” “Night, Harry.”

“Good night, Love,” he murmurs and you know he is smiling, thought he steps away from the window as he says goodbye and you do the same before ending the call.

***

“Hey! That’s mine!” you protest as Harry steals another roasted chestnut from your little paper bag, but you can’t stay mad at him when he is smiling at you so sweetly.

“Sorry, tastes better when it’s someone else’s.”

“Sure,” you snort and just let him get as many as he wants. You wouldn’t have eaten it all anyway.

It’s quite cold out in the town, but at least there’s no rain or storm, so the weather didn’t try to ruin your little trip to the Christmas market.

Gemma calls out for Harry to show him something and you just keep wandering between the booths, enjoying the atmosphere quite a lot, you have no idea when was the last time you got to come to the market, though you always loved coming when you were younger.

Finishing up your chestnuts you throw the paper bag into a trash can and turn around to find the rest of your little group, spotting Harry and Gemma deep in discussion next to a booth that offers handmade ceramic mugs. As you walk closer it almost seems like as if they were having a fight, which is just odd, they rarely do that.

“Just get your head out of your arse!” you catch Gemma telling her brother who only groans in frustration before he spots you, a smile plastering across his face.

“Hey, there you are!” he beams.

“Everything alright?” you ask looking at them.

“Sure, just Gemma is being a little nosy, is all,” Harry waves in dismiss. You glance over to Gems, but she is already back in discussion with Michal so you decide to drop it. “You ate all the chestnuts?” Harry asks offended, throwing an arm around your shoulders.

“Well, it was mine, so of course I ate them!”

“Selfish,” he narrows his eyes at you, but you both know it’s just a joke.

You walk further down in the aisle, occasionally stopping at some of the booth when you spot a place that offers hot chocolate in cute little mugs that you can take home with you if you’d like, or just take it back and get your money back.

“Oh look!” you gasp excitedly and head towards the hot chocolate booth. The old lady smiles brightly at the two of you as you take a look at all the choices. “Oh my god, they have caramel flavored!” you cheer, basically already drooling at the thought of a good, caramel flavored hot chocolate.

“What can I get for the lovely couple?” the lady smiles warmly at the two of you and you freeze at her assumption.

“Oh we—“ you start, but Harry cuts you off.

“A caramel flavored and a plain one, please,” he orders, without even batting an eye about how the lady just called you a couple. You can feel your cheeks heating up at the thought, but you try to calm yourself. He probably just didn’t want to get into explaining that you two are not an item and let her think what she wanted.

The nice lady hands you your mug and you take Harry’s as well as he pays for both of them. You would try to argue with him and pay yours, but you are already used to how stubborn he is and he never lets you split anything, it’s always on him.

“Thank you, have a nice day!” Harry calls out to the lady before the two of you leave. You peek at him handing him his mug, looking for any clue that would give away if this little scene got him just as bothered as it did you, but he looks perfectly fine and relaxed, so you decide not to bring it up. You’re sure he didn’t think much of it.

Your little stroll stretches into the afternoon, the four of you decide to have lunch out there too, then you just opt for a walk in town as Gemma wants to do a quick last minute Christmas shopping, so by the time you get home Anne is already over at yours helping your mum with dinner. Tonight you are all eating at yours, then tomorrow it’s the Styles’ turn to host, this is how you agreed this year.

“Woah, it smells amazing!” you call out walking into the house. The delicious smells fill up the whole place and you hear the two women giggling in the kitchen.

“Hi Honey, how was the market?” your mum greets you, a glass of red wine in her hand and the same goes for Anne.

“Great, we have a new mug,” you say holding up the emptied out hot chocolate mug. Stepping to the sink you wash it quickly and drying off you put it away in one of the cabinets.

You stick around in the kitchen and not so much later Harry comes over, the two of you leave your mums alone and get comfortable in front of the telly.

All channels are filled with holiday movies and you don’t mind, really, you like them all even if you’ve seen them a million times, you still find them funny and cute. Harry feels the same way, so when you settle on Love Actually he doesn’t say a word.

What startles you is that he grabs your ankles and pulls your legs over his lap, a small shriek escaping your mouth since you weren’t expecting him to do that. You’re sitting sideways, your legs are bent at the knee and Harry is kind of hugging them as his eyes are glued to the screen.

You find it rather hard to focus on the movie when Harry’s fingers keep fidgeting on your legs, they keep running up and down, sometimes he lays his hands flat on your knees, there’s no spot he hasn’t touched since you started watching the movie.

About an hour into the film he turns to you and you look at him in question.

“’M in the mood to cuddle,” he announces and starts moving around, not even letting you protest as he basically crawls to your lap, resting his head on your stomach as the two of you lay on the couch.

“Am I now your personal pillow?” you ask chuckling, but you wouldn’t want him to move for anything. Feeling him weigh down on you just feels so warm and simple but amazing.

“The best one,” he mumbles, bringing a hand to your side as you let your fingers comb through his curls.

You keep massaging his scalp and he lets out soft moans when you go over a soft spot, you can’t help but chuckle as he melts under your hands. His fingers start drawing circles on your side and the movie is long forgotten by you, all you can focus on is how great it is to have Harry so close to you. He is known to be a physical person, you are used to hugs and touches, but it seems like he is a little needier now than the usual.

You don’t mind it though, you just try to enjoy the moment, because it can end anytime.

Gemma and Michal come over a little before seven, and while your mums finish up the cooking the four of you set the table. You grab the crystal glasses and start placing them to the table, Harry lending you a hand. Once the table is all set you shuffle into the kitchen to see if there’s anything you can help with, Harry following you behind, placing a hand to the small of your back.

As you stand and wait for you mum to finish up the meals so you can help carry them to the table you feel Harry’s hand wander over to your hip, giving it a squeeze as he stands closer, so his chest is pressed against your back.

“Harry?” you ask a little out of breath.

“Hm?” he innocently hums.

“What’s with you today?” Turning your head to the side your eyes lock with his, but he just shrugs smiling.

“Guess I just missed yeh a lot.”

“You’re weird,” you chuckle shaking your head, but don’t make an effort to push him away. His touch feels way too good to put an end to it and you just want to be selfish a little longer.

His hands leave you when the two of you help to bring the food to the table, and you almost wish they would just return, but you gotta swallow the thought.

The food is amazing, as always. You all sip on some wine, just having a genuinely good time, enjoying that all of you are back at one place, something that rarely happens now that all three of you kids are all grown up.

At one point Harry rests his arm on the back of your chair, no one seems to notice but you. All these little things have been driving you crazy all day and your mind seems to be playing a nasty game with you. There’s no way Harry thinks of these details more than what they are, a friendly gesture towards an old friend of his.

When Gemma is telling a story about some weird guy she met at work Harry reaches up and pushes your hair behind your ear, his finger lingering over your neck a little longer than you would have expected. Turning to face him you give him a questioning look, not sure what to think about his needy and touchy self all of a sudden.

“What?” you mouth him, but he just smiles at you absentmindedly, curling a strand of hair around his finger, playing with it for a moment before letting go of it and going for another lock. You reach up and pull his hand away, feeling yourself heating up from his touch, but when you are about to let go of his hand he grabs yours, lacing your fingers together with yours as he rests them on his thigh.

“Harry…” you breathe out, glancing at the others, relieved to see that they are not paying much attention to the two of you.

“What? Am I not allowed to touch you?” he asks with a smug smirk and you roll your eyes at him.

“As I said, you’re weird,” you mumble under your breath looking down at your now empty plate. Harry gives your hand a squeeze.

“But like, the good kind of weird, yeah?”

“Shut up,” you chuckle shaking your head at him.

You try to tell yourself he is just needy because it’s been so long since you last saw each other. It can’t be more, you push even the smallest thought to the back of your mind, though it surely lingers there throughout the evening.

He helps you with washing the dishes, you stand arm to arm at the sink as you scrub the plates and hand over to him for drying. He gently hums to himself all along, swaying his hips, bumping against yours. At first you resist it, but then you catch the rhythm and start moving along, so your hips meet in the middle before swinging to the opposite side.

“What’s the song?” you ask finishing up the last plate.

“Just something random,” he shrugs smirking over at you. You hand him the last plate, he is still singing, making up gibberish lyrics to his song and once he puts the plate down he throws the kitchen cloth to the counter and easily grabs your waist pulling you against him as he starts swaying with you to his impromptu song. You let out a small shriek at the sudden movement, but eventually melt into his hold. The humming slowly turns into an all too familiar melody as Harry starts singing Sweet Creature into your ear, slow dancing in the kitchen while you hear your mums and Gemma laugh outside somewhere.

Your hands run up his arms and stop behind his neck as you lock your fingers and let him hold you close, his palms are pressed to your waist, fingers gently stroking you through the fabric of your shirt. You take a deep breath and his cologne fills your nose, one of your favorite scents, sometimes you just wish you could spray it on your pillow so it would always smell like him.

“Sweet creature, wherever I go, you bring me home…” he softly sings, leaning back just enough for your eyes to meet. It feels like your heart is about to burst out of your chest, it’s not the first time you feel so intimidated by him, like you could pass out any moment, but this is a little different. As if his eyes were telling you another story, but you can’t completely make up the words.

“Sweet creature, when I run out of road, you bring me home, you’ll bring me home.” He finishes the song, hums the closing melody and you watch him in complete awe. Your lips part when you catch his gaze move down to them and you swear you see him leaning closer, as if he is about to kiss you. Your breath gets caught in your throat, he is so close, just a few more inches and you’d taste those perfect lips of his, the ones you’ve been dreaming about for way too long.

It almost happens, it seems, but just when that last push is about to set in Gemma waltz into the kitchen and you step back faster than light, pushing him away even though the sudden lack of his touch is more painful than you were expecting.

“You guys—Oh, what’s up?” she asks stopping at the door and you feel yourself getting redder with each passing moment, the heat crawling up your neck, ears cheeks, right to the top of your head. What were you thinking? You let yourself believe Harry would ever kiss you, this whole scene was nothing more than just a friendly moment the two of you were sharing.

“I’m—sorry,” you breathe out making your way out of the kitchen, right up to your room to have some well needed space.

“Way to ruin everything,” Harry snickers at his sister.

“You joking? You wanted to kiss her in her mum’s kitchen?” Gemma snaps at him in disbelief.

“We were having a moment,” he mumbles rubbing his face with his hands. “Up until you stomped in with your big mouth.”

“Well, if you were havin’ a moment, just make it happen again.”

“As if it’s that easy, Gemma!” he scoffs throwing his hands in the air.

“Man up and tell her how you feel, don’t have to complicate it too much,” she shrugs before walking out and leaving her brother alone. Harry growls in frustration, the gears in his head turning wildly as he is trying to figure out how to come clear to you about his feelings.

Meanwhile, up in your room you get out your laptop and busy yourself with checking up on messages and emails you’ve been ignoring, hoping that the uneasy feeling in your chest will ease very soon. Your hands were shaking when you locked yourself up in your room, but as you get focused on other tasks you slowly gain your balance back.

You kind of even forget that the Styles’ were over, you only realize that you abruptly pulled yourself out of the evening when there’s a soft knock on your door.

“Come on in!” you call out and a moment later Harry’s head pops in, eyes softly falling on your sitting figure on the bed. “Hey,” you smile at him faintly.

“Hey. Thought you were sleepin’s or summat.” Coming inside he closes the door behind him then sits on your plush rug in the middle of the room.

“Just… sorted some work related things out,” you sigh.

“Working during the holidays? Tha’s not healthy.”

“I know, I’m done,” you smile shutting the laptop down and putting it aside. “Sorry I disappeared, I just—“

“No worries,” Harry shakes his head. “Mum and Gems went home, they thought you were sleeping too, tha’s why they didn’t say goodbye.”

“Oh, alright.”

“But I thought we could have a sleepover,” he peeks at you with a boyish smile.

“What, like we did in middle school?” you chuckle.

“Yea, thought it would be fun.”

“Well, I don’t think my bed would fit us comfortably and we don’t have the mattress anymore that you used to sleep on,” you tell him looking around.

“Nonsense, I’m not tha’ big,” he insists hopping to his feet and throwing himself on the bed, ignoring that you’re already there. His body takes up more than half on the bed , limbs wrapping around you as he brings you down to the mattress next to him, you can’t help the laugh that leaves your lips.

“You’re like a gigantic baby, Harry!” you laugh as he keeps you down on the bed with his arm.

“It’s perfectly fine for two people,” he mumbles with a smirk, closing his eyes as his head sinks into your pillow.

“Do you ever get no as an answer?” you ask looking at him in awe. You can never get used to seeing him so up close, like not many get to.

“No,” he huffs in satisfaction, his arm bringing you closer to him and you just giggle at him.

“I’m not sleeping just yet, gotta have a shower first.”

“Do what you want, I’ll be here,” he mumbles but you snort at him.

“You’re not sleeping in my bed without having a shower,” you tell him before you grab your pajamas and head to the bathroom.

You have a quick shower and get done with all your evening business. Returning to your room you find Harry sitting on the floor, his back against the side of the bed as he is scrolling through his phone.

“Does mum know you’re staying over?” you ask him as you throw your used clothes into the hamper, moving around the room while feeling his eyes on you.

“Yeah. ‘S all good.”

“You need a towel?”

“Yes please,” he says pushing himself up from the floor.

“Clothes?” you ask with an arched brow. He just grins at you and it’s enough of an answer. “Here,” you give him the shirt and sweats he has left at yours quite some time ago, along with a clean towel.

“Thanks,” he smirks before leaving to occupy the bathroom.

He doesn’t take long in there, you’re lying in bed already when he returns, smelling like your shower gel, strawberry and melon.

He throws his clothes to the chair in the corner and then lies beside you on the bed. You scoot over to the wall to give him space, but he is quick to bring you closer to him once he has made himself comfortable. You lay your head on his shoulder as you are both scrolling through your phones.

When you had enough, you throw yours to the nightstand, and stay cuddled up to his side.

“Do you remember the last time I slept here?” he asks tossing his phone to the nightstand and bringing his arms around you.

“Mm, was it at my twentieth birthday?”

“Yeah. You were so wasted,” he chuckles and you smirk to yourself

“But you took good care of me.”

“I did. You were so cute, rambling about how much you love me when I took you home from the pub.”

You bite into your bottom lip. You still remember that night vividly. Your birthday party had gone a little wild and you had gotten drunker than you intended to. Luckily, he was there to bring your home and he stayed in the bathroom with you as you threw up everything you ate and drank that evening. Then he made you take a shower, got you fresh clothes out and helped you get into bed. He slept next to you that night, holding you in his arms, gently caressing your back and upper arm as you fell into your drunken slumber. In the morning you told yourself he just did what any other friend would do, helping you out when you were clearly knocked out, but he made you breakfast in the morning since your mum was working all night and morning and he stayed over later the afternoon to make sure you were alright.

What you told him in your drunken state about loving him, it wasn’t just your friendly side, it was your drunken self coming clear to him, telling him that you are in love with him, but he didn’t take it seriously and you were too ashamed and awkward to even bring it up to him after that, so it was all forgotten very soon.

Following that you planned on telling him how you feel, several times. You even wrote a little speech you planned to give him when the time comes, but you couldn’t do it. The fear of losing him if he doesn’t feel the same was stronger than you expected and every time you had the chance to come clear, you chickened out. The thought of losing him as a friend is way worse than having to push your feelings down... forever. You just can’t imagine your life without Harry in it and you can’t risk losing him.

The two of you talk for quite a while, laughing about the good old times, until you both fall asleep. Sometime in the middle of the night you wake up and feel Harry wrapped around you, his head lying on your chest as he is snoring softly. He truly is like a big baby, an arm thrown over your stomach, his legs tangled with yours. Good Lord, how amazing it feels to have him so close to you!

Reaching up you tangle your fingers through his hair gently so he doesn’t wake up, his soft curls glide between your fingers easily and lifting your head you kiss the top of his head before letting yourself drift back to sleep.

When you open your eyes the next time the situation is the opposite, you are the one cuddled up to Harry’s side who is scrolling through his phone with one hand, keeping the other one on your arm.

“Mornin’, sleepy head,” he chuckles softly when he sees you awake.

“Mmm, what time is it?” you ask letting your head rest on his chest a little longer.

“Quarter to nine. You can sleep a little more if you want, it’s not that late.”

“No, I promised mum I’d help her wrap gifts,” you sigh rolling over to your stomach as you push yourself up to your elbows to look at him. “Love the double chin you got going there,” you tease him sleepily and he just smirks.

“Yea? Quite cute, right? Worked a lot on it,” he jokes running his finger over it before letting out a chuckle. “Ready for our battle today?”

“As ready as I’ll ever be. You are going down this year, Styles,” you tell him pushing yourself up into a sitting position. Harry only pushes himself further on the bed enough to rest his head against the headboard.

“Oh really? I wouldn’t be that sure about tha’,” he warns you, but you are feeling pretty confident about your performance this year. There’s no way he can top it.

“We’ll see. Alright, I need a coffee. Want something for breakfast?” you ask him crawling out of the bed.

“Yeah, that would be nice.”

Your mum is already in the kitchen, sipping on her morning coffee while reading the paper. She doesn’t find it even a bit weird that Harry spent the night at yours, it’s been quite the usual for you. Harry helps you make eggs and bacon and the three of you eat together, having a lovely time and you genuinely feel like it’s just like in the good old times when you were still living home and Harry wasn’t Harry Styles, but the boy from across the street.

He goes home after breakfast to help his own mum with the cooking for tonight’s dinner and you don’t do much for the rest of the day, just spend time with your mum, watch movies and relax. It’s nice to unwind after such a busy year behind you.

Not long before five you go to take a shower and get ready to head over to the Styles’ and you pack everything you’ll need for the evening: gifts, ugly sweater, accessories. Harry is going down this year for sure.

It’s a little past six when you and your mum walk across the street, Anne’s Christmas lights are putting the little town house into the spirit for sure. You don’t even ring the bell, just walk straight in, like you always do. The Christmas tree stands tall in their living room and the table is already nicely set. Gemma and Michal are snuggled up on the couch while Harry is helping Anne in the kitchen with the finishing touches.

“I’m rooting for you this year,” Gemma winks at you when you set down your bag in the corner that has everything you’ll need for your performance.

“He’s gonna lose this round,” you smirk proudly, very sure in yourself.

Harry greets you with a bright smile and a tight hug when he walks into the living room, as if you didn’t just see each other a few hours earlier.

When the food is ready you all sit down to eat, and though you’re trying your best to focus on the conversation, you’re getting excited about tonight’s karaoke battle.

“Anxious much?” Harry asks you quietly.

“Why are you asking?”

He doesn’t answer, just places a hand to your thigh stopping it from shaking, making you realize you’ve been probably bouncing it all along. He smirks at you as you just roll your eyes at him.

“’S okay, you can handle one more year of losing,” he teases you and you give him an arched eyebrow.

“Don’t be so full of yourself, Harry,” you warn him, but he just squeezes your thigh again before bringing his hands back up to the table, leaving you a little breathless with his touch.

You all help clean up the table after dinner and when it’s done, you gather in the living room to open gifts.

When Harry’s career launched, the first few years you felt anxious about gifting him, because you felt like you couldn’t give him enough. He had all the money and bought everything he needed for himself, there wasn’t much you could give him. But when one time, you admitted to him this struggle of yours he assured you that it doesn’t matter what you give him, it’ll always be precious to him.

“You thought about me, you took the time to buy something for me, and that’s more than enough, Y/N,” he told you and though it took you time, but you got used to it. Especially when you saw the same excitement in his eyes every time you gifted something to him, you slowly but surely realized he wasn’t expecting a Gucci suit, but a thoughtful gesture.

Gathering in the living room you open the presents one by one and just as always, everyone was quite creative with the gifts. You can’t help but still feel a little anxious when Harry grabs his gift from you. Giving you an excited look he unties the little bow on the top and tears the wrapping paper off.

“Y/N!” he breathes out, eyes softening as he pulls the knitted cardigan out of the box.

“I always saw you wearing all sorts of cardigans and so I finally had a reason to learn how to knit, so I thought I would make one for you,” you ramble as he holds up the baby blue cardigan that has little daisies all over the front. It took you an entire week to just make the daisies, you worked on the whole cardigan for more than two months, usually in the middle of the night, staying up until unholy hours to finish in time.

But Harry’s smile is worth it all, he is beaming, clearly so in love with what you made him, so you breathe out relieved. He then puts it aside and wraps his arms around you pulling you into the tightest hug.

“Thank you, I love it so much,” he mumbles and kisses your temple and you breathe in his sweet scent, burying yourself in his embrace, hugging his waist.

When you part, Harry reaches for a box from under the tree and hands it to you, a nervous smile tugging on his lips. You can tell he wrapped the gift himself, the silver wrapping paper is a little uneven, but the huge rainbow colored bow on the top is the perfect touch that makes it like a piece of him.

You carefully tear the paper off, peeking inside you just see a plain box that doesn’t give much away. Glancing up at Harry you see how he is anxiously biting his bottom lip, even though you’d be happy with a gift as small as a candle. It’s the thought that counts.

“I-I wasn’t sure if this was the one you mentioned to me, so I hope it’s gonna be alright,” he mumbles, eyes fixed on your hands as they open the box, while you try to think back what you have told him about that caught his attention, but you just can’t recall what you wanted to get so badly you told Harry about it.

As you open the box you don’t process what it is immediately, the plastic wrapper making it hard to figure it out, but when you carefully pull out the object, you gasp in surprise.

“Harry!” you breathe out as you pull off the plastic of the old, vintage polaroid camera. It’s not one of these new types you can buy in stores easily, this is a classic, must have quite a history behind it.

Now you vaguely remember talking about longing for an oldschool, vintage camera, but it was months ago and you’ve forgotten about the whole thing since these devices cost a fortune because there aren’t many left from them. But now there’s one in your hands, because Harry not only listened to you, but he remembered and went out of his way to find you one in amazing condition.

“This must have cost a fortune!” you huff, your heart pounding in your chest, though you already know it doesn’t matter to him.

“This face is worth every penny,” he smiles at you softly before you throw yourself at him for another round of hugging. This man surely knows how to have you wrapped around his fingers.

The two of you sit on the floor as you figure out how to make the camera work, Harry bought everything needed, so you have a few packs of films as well. When it’s all done you bring it up to your face and aim it at Harry. It takes him a moment to realize that you’re about to snap your first photo and he tries to snatch the camera away, but it’s too late, the flash goes off and the device pushes out the undeveloped picture.

“You wasted your first snap on me?” he protests rubbing his eyes after the flash blinded him for a little.

“It’s not a waste,” you tell him as you patiently wait for the picture to finally appear.

Slowly, the colors start to show and in a couple of minutes Harry’s face appears, his hand reaching in the direction of the camera, looking out of focus, only his face appearing clearly. He looks so delicate, his eyes dazzling as a soft smile plays on his lips. This moment now will live forever not just in your mind, but on this photo.

Harry goes out with his karaoke performance this year for sure and you’d be actually anxious about him winning if only you didn’t have the absolutely best performance right in your pocket.

His sweater this year features some really ugly looking penguins and a horroristic reindeer on the back, it’s really ugly and you can’t even imagine who thought it would be fine to make it and then sell it. His choice of music is also excellent, he has a great eye for songs you’d never imagine him perform and then shock everyone with it. This year, he chose Rude Boy by none other than Rihanna, and it’s fantastic, no one can make it through the song without crying. Harry makes sure to put on his best show, even dancing and twerking unapologetically, trying everything to win the battle and you are amazed by his effort. Above all the fun and jokes, he nails the song, that’s undeniable. It always baffles you how he can just slay any and all genres, even the ones that stand a million miles away from his style.

When the song is over, you all cheer for him, because he truly deserves it. He grins down at you in victory, but you just give him a challenging smirk.

“You can just give up now, if you want,” he teases you as you stand up from the couch and the two of you trade places.

“Oh, I think you should be the one to worry about losing,” you warn him grabbing your bag. Stepping to Gemma you whisper into her ear, instructing her to put on your song when you call out from the bathroom, since you are planning on do a grandiose entrance. When she hears what song you’ll be singing she gasps.

“Oh my fucking God, no way!” he looks at your with wide eyes.

“What? What is it?” Harry asks, dying to know what you just told his sister, but you shake your head at him.

“Patience,” you tell him before locking yourself up in the bathroom.

This year, you didn’t find the sweater, the sweater found you. On one of your thrift tours, you were digging up a huge pile of clothes when you came right across it and you knew what you needed to do.

Putting on the sweater you fix up your hair quickly before putting on your party glasses, the one that lights up if you switch it on. You take one last look at yourself in the mirror and smirk at your reflection knowing well you’ll have everyone dead when you walk out.

“Gemma! You can start it!” you call out with your hand on the doorknob, waiting to hear the music. Gemma quickly starts in and you haven’t even stepped out, you can hear a round of gasps.

Best Song Ever blasts through the speakers and you walk out trying your best to imitate a younger version of Harry, wearing the absolute ugliest Christmas sweater ever, that has the faces of One Direction all over it, filling up every inch of the fabric, and all of them have poorly photoshopped Santa hats on, it’s just literal trash and ridiculously perfect for the battle.

You grab the mic and start singing as everyone screams in the room. You jump, sing and even do the dance moves the boys do in the original music video, and when you look at Harry you see him staring at you in disbelief and total defeat. Everyone knows you won, nothing can top this performance ever and you could burst from the sweet feeling of victory.

By the end of the song everyone is up on their feet dancing and singing with you, a mini party forming in the middle of the living room and you all scream the last lines as the song comes to its end.

“I think we don’t even need to vote this time,” you say when the music stops, everyone screaming in agreement while Harry stares down at you, trying to hide his growing smirk.

“Where did you even find this?” he asks chuckling as he takes a better look at the sweater.

“At a thrift store, it called out my name, knew it’d be perfect.”

“It really is ugly, if I’m being honest,” he sighs, his eyes meeting yours again. “And the song… I accept defeat, you earned this victory, Y/N,” he tells you bowing and admitting your victory.

Later that night everyone is so keen on watching Holiday, you agree to stay even though you feel your eyelids heavily weighing down, threatening to close with each passing moment. You let your head rest on Harry’s shoulder and he presses his cheek against the crown of your head.

It’s not a surprise you fall asleep halfway into the movie, but what you weren’t expecting is to wake up and find yourself not on the couch anymore, but in Harry’s bed. It’s dark, only the moon is shining through his windows and as you turn to the right you see that he is sleeping peacefully next to you on his back, one arm spread next to him, hand hanging from the edge, the other one resting on his stomach, rising and falling in a slow rhythm.

Squinting your eyes you look at the digital clock on his dresser, it reads 3:23 am so you’ve been asleep for quite a few hours now. You don’t even remember him bringing you up here, but you’re definitely not mad that he didn’t bring you home, just up to his room.

Rolling to your side you give yourself a moment to adorn his beauty without fearing he would catch your wandering eyes. Everything seems so perfect about him, the line of his nose, his cupid’s bow that delicately rolls into her lips. The crease between his eyebrows, his soft skin on his cheeks, down his neck that runs into his broad shoulders and inked, strong arms. You truly think there’s no man that could compare to him and you are lucky enough to live your life so close to him, be able to touch him, hear his voice whenever you miss him, see his smile and share a connection with him.

It’s so silly, but you think of him as your personal ray of sunshine in your life. Just the smallest things about him can brighten your worst day, he’ll always have a special place in your heart, no matter where life takes the two of you.

Watching him sleeping you allow yourself to break free from your doubts and fears and scooting closer you shyly curl up to his side, your head resting on his shoulder, but you can’t even make yourself comfortable before you feel him moving under you.

Sucking on your breath you think he’ll push you away, not wanting you so close, but instead, he pulls his arm from under you, curling around your frame as he pulls you tight to him, almost making you lie on top of him. Your whole body is pressed against him and you mingle a leg between his long ones under the soft sheets. You let out a long huff at the warm touch of his body against your skin, completely lost in him.

“You alright?” he mumbles in his sleep laced voice, his eyes remain closed.

“Yeah. Is this okay?” you nervously ask as you lay your hand flat on his stomach. He brings his hand that was hanging from the bed on his other side and covers yours, as he squeezes you tight to his side.

“’M all yours,” he breathes out, his words sending a shiver down your spine. You’re sure he didn’t mean it like that, but it warmed your heart to hear it from him and you let your mind play with the thought that there was more behind his words than a friendly manner.

Nuzzling your head into his chest you close your eyes and listening to his steady heartbeat you let yourself fall back asleep.

Your morning is filled with coffee, pancakes, laughter and great company. Harry doesn’t let you leave without having breakfast with them, so you sit with the Styles family and laugh about the craziest stories from your teenage years.

“Remember when we tried to run away?” Harry grins at you, his red mug that had white polka dots all over it in his hands as he eyes you.

“Oh, how could I forget that?” you huff and Gemma turns to you with surprise in her eyes.

“Wait, I didn’t know about that!”

“Because we didn’t get too far,” Harry laughs. “We were, what, like fifteen?”

“Yeah, it was a few weeks after my fifteenth birthday,” you nod smiling.

“I had a fight with mum about God knows what, then stormed over to Y/N’s and talked her into running away. So we packed our backpacks and left.”

“Where did you go?” Michal asks with an amused grin as he listens to the story.

“We didn’t want to go into town, running into anyone we know, so we thought we would just go straight out to the meadow that’s there,” Harry says gesturing towards the window. The edge of the town is not so war, and a huge meadow lies there, a little stream running across it. “We walked for quite long, but then it started to get dark and we had nowhere to go, so we just ended up coming back home. No one even noticed we were gone, they thought we just went out to bike or something,” he finishes laughing.

“You knew about this?” Gemma asks Anne.

“Yeah, he came clear the next day, thinking he would piss me off with it, but I didn’t care, he came back for dinner, so it was alright,” Anne explains laughing.

It’s been so long since it happened, but I still remember it vividly, only that it was a more dramatic memory back then, now I can only laugh at it.

“We should go for a walk today,” Harry prompts to you.

“Wanna run away again?” you tease him.

“Always,” he chuckles.

You help cleaning up and agree with Harry to meet outside in an hour to take a walk to the meadow. Going home you take a shower and wash the dishes your mum left in the sink when she left for her morning shift. You put on a pair of boyfriend jeans, a warm sweater and your jacket with your trusty boots and you walk out the house right when Harry steps out as well. He grins in your way as the two of you meet in the middle of the street. He holds his arm out for you.

“M’ lady?” he smirks as you link your arm with his and the two of you head out for your little walk. It’s a gloomy day, might rain later as well, but it’s dry so far, so you’re just hoping to get home before it starts raining. Your runaway attempt wasn’t the only time the two of you came out here, it was kind of your place when you felt like having a break from everyone else. You biked out here, brought your favorite snacks and just ran around, enjoying the stillness.

However it also holds a bitter memory as well.

A little further down among the trees happened Harry’s first kiss and you witnessed it, feeling your heart break to a million pieces when you saw him lock lips with someone who wasn’t you.

Debby Hamilton was a friend of yours in sixth grade, you’d say, your only friend beside Harry and the three of you often hung out together around that time. Debby was a delight, you always desired to be more like her, boys liked her and she knew it damn well, but it didn’t make her cocky and egoistic. You always thought Harry had a crush on her, why would have he? They kind of looked cute together.

It was a Friday afternoon and Harry asked if you wanted to come out and listen to his new cassette he got for his old Walkman he refused to get rid of as technology was evolving. You figured he’d want Debby there as well so you invited her along, but didn’t tell Harry. He never made a move on Debby and you thought he was just looking for the right time.

That afternoon, you were supposed to meet them out there at five, but you didn’t leave until half past five and it takes about twenty minutes to get out there. Though you gave them the alone time technically, it still startled you when you found them under one of the oak trees, Debby leaning her back against the tree as Harry stood in front of her. She was smiling up at him sweetly, saying something to him and you were just about to call out for them and apologize for being late when Harry ducked his head and kissed Debby right in front of your eyes.

That was your first and probably worst heartbreak and you were only twelve. You felt betrayed, hopeless and naïve to think Harry would ever have a thing for you when there were girls like Debby. You left without letting them know you were there. When Harry asked you later why you didn’t come you told him you felt sick to your stomach, which wasn’t a total lie, you had quite the nausea after seeing Harry with Debby, but he didn’t have to know all the details.

He later told you about kissing Debby and you pretended like you didn’t know about it. However they never dated and not long after their kiss Debby drifted away from the two of you. Not that you minded, you had a bitter feeling every time you had to look at her after that, jealousy raging in your chest knowing that she got Harry’s first kiss.

He didn’t bring it up after and you weren’t keen on talking about it, but you still know which tree they were standing under and now as you near the area you see that it still stands tall near the tiny stream.

Peeking up at Harry you see that his eyes are focused on the same tree, but then he catches you looking.

“Memories?” you innocently ask, feeling your chest tightening. You don’t even know why you asked. It’s been over a decade since that kiss, you are both adults, but you still can’t help the sadness that washes over you at just the thought, why would you want to get him talk about it now?

“’S just… that’s the tree I kissed Debby when I was twelve,” he mumbles with a shrug. Biting into your bottom lip you look at the old oak tree nodding your head and before you could stop yourself, you speak up.

“I know.”

“What? How would you? I never told you,” Harry asks stopping, a puzzled look pulling on his face.

“Well I… It doesn’t matter,” you sigh, regretting ever opening your mouth.

“It does. Tell me!” he pleads standing in front of you.

“I know it, because… I was here.”

“You what?”

“I came, I was just very late. And when I arrived you two were standing there and I saw you kiss. I thought I shouldn’t interrupt whatever was happening so I went home and let you two be,” you explain, changing it up a little bit.

“Why didn’t you tell me?”

“Why is it important that I saw it? It doesn’t change anything, right?” you ask with a smile that you intended to look innocent, but deep down it’s filled with pain.

Harry opens his mouth as if he wants to say something, but then remains silent and you are done talking about it, so you just quietly keep walking, Harry catching up with you a few moments later.

It’s awfully quiet after your revelation, it seems like Harry is deep in his thoughts and though you’re dying to know what’s occupying his bright thoughts, you’re kind of afraid you’d hear something you didn’t want to.

The two of you soon head back home and slowly, but you forget about the whole Debby thing. Harry starts talking again, but he looks a little keyed up still when you reach your street.

“Wanna come over later?” you ask standing on the pavement in front of your house, it’s just an innocent question. Harry nods his head.

“Sure. Is your mum working?” he asks glancing at the house, though he knows she is, the car is not on the driveway.

“Yeah. She’ll be home around six.”

He nods again and you want to ask if he is alright, but you decide not to. You share a quick hug before he heads over to his home and you do the same. The house waits for you in silence and when the door clicks behind you, it weighs down on you heavier than you were expecting. You hang your jacket, kick your boots off and throw yourself to the couch, covering your eyes with your arm as you huff out in frustration. You feel silly for getting upset about such a small thing even after so much time, but you just can’t help it.

You barely realize the sound of the front door opening, taking your arm off your eyes you see Harry walk in, eyebrows furrowed, a worried look on his handsome face.

“Harry—“ “I was waiting for you that day,” he simply says as you sit up with wide eyes, confused about what he is really talking about.

“What?”

“That day, we agreed to meet out there to listen to my new Stevie Wonder cassette, but you didn’t show up, Debby did even though I didn’t invite her out there.”

“Well, I did, thought you wanted her there too,” you explain, startled by the situation.

“I would have invited her if I wanted her to be there, but I wanted to be with you. Only you.”

“I-I’m sorry?” you breathe out, not seeing where he is going with it.

“Y/N, you don’t understand,” he huffs and he is right. You don’t. “I wanted to meet you, but you never came, or at least I thought. Then Debby showed up, I was frustrated that you weren’t there and she was being all nice, telling me how cute I looked when I was worried and it all just happened so fast and… I didn’t even want to kiss her.” He looks properly upset telling you the story and he takes a deep breath before his eyes meet yours with a hard stare. “I wanted to be with you,” he repeats.

“Harry, I’m sorry, I didn’t—“

He shakes his hair, not even letting you finish, because he knows what you wanted to say and that you still don’t understand the meaning behind his words.

“Y/N, I wanted to kiss you,” he then finally says and you suck on your breath as he continues. “Well, not right then and there, but I’ve been meaning to kiss you, I just didn’t know when. I thought that if we have a moment that afternoon I’d do it, but you never came and I was mad and disappointed. I hated myself for kissing Debby, because I didn’t really want to, it just… happened. I wanted to tell you, and I intended to do it when I told you we kissed, but you acted so happy, I figured you didn’t feel the same way about me as I did for you. So I didn’t tell you the rest, but…” He sighs in defeat, looking for words, but he ran out.

“Why are you telling this to me now?” you ask a little out of breath, your head feeling heavy at the new information you just heard.

“Why didn’t you tell me you saw us and why did you go home without a word?” he asks ignoring your question.

“I… don’t—“

“Don’t try to lie.”

Gulping hard you lick your dried lips as you stare back at him.

“Because I was… jealous.” Your voice comes out only as a whisper. Harry’s lips part as he takes two steps closer to you.

“You had feelings for me?” he asks and you just nod your head, not trusting yourself with your voice. “Do you still have feelings for me?”

“I do,” you whisper your answer and Harry lets out a sharp breath as he leaps across the room in your way. You jump to your feet, thinking that he’ll lash out on your for keeping it a secret and you open your mouth to explain yourself, but you never get to speak up because as Harry reaches you, one hand snaps to the back of your neck, the other one to your waist, yanking you against him as his lips crash to yours.

You gasp in surprise, but it doesn’t take long to kiss him back, your numb mind blindly reacting to his sudden action. Your hands snake up to the back of his neck as you pull him closer, returning his hungry kisses. His soft lips feel so smooth and warm against yours and when his tongue runs along your bottom lip you whimper letting your tongues meet in the middle.

He is intoxicating and it doesn’t help that your adrenaline level is up in the sky, you��ve fantasized about it way too many times, and now that it’s happening your body is burning in flames. He kisses you all over and over again, his body pressing against yours hard and when he even leans in making you lean back, you lose balance and the two of you fall to the couch, both of you gasping as you are forced to part your lips.

“Fuck,” you chuckle as Harry is basically lying on you, holding himself up on his arms, but you feel him everywhere.

“’M sorry, I got a little carried away, but I’ve been dying to do this since forever,” he admits chuckling as he lifts his head and looks down at you with those bright green eyes of his.

“Really?” you breathe out, only slowly processing what’s really just happened.

“Y/N, I’ve been in love with you since I first saw you hiding behind your mum.”

“Idiot, you were just a kid, you weren’t in love,” you chuckle, running up your hands to the back of his neck, your fingers playing with the soft curls. He smirks and nuzzles his nose against yours.

“Oh, I was, I just didn’t know it yet.” Leaning down he pecks your lips softly. “I’ve been meaning to tell you so many times, but I didn’t want it to ruin our friendship. Though I was growing impatient these last few years.”

“Yeah?” you chuckle.

“You can’t imagine,” he huffs shaking his head. I almost kissed you the other day in the kitchen, but Gemma completely ruined the moment.”

“I’m sorry I ran away, I was just—“ “No need to apologize. I guess it all played out well after all, right?” he smirks and you can’t help but chuckle.

“I guess,” you breathe out and the smile slowly fades from your lips. “And now what?” you ask quietly, staring up at him.

“Now… We’ll try to make things work. Test the waters. I’m very serious about this, Y/N,” he tells you. “I’ve been waiting for this my whole life so I’m not gonna let go of you now.”

“You have no idea how happy this is making me,” you choke out feeling the tears forming in your eyes.

“Oh Love, please don’t cry,” he begs and leaning down he kisses your tears away. “I’m right here, with you. Sorry it took me so long you get here, but I’m here now.”

“I know,” you huff blinking away the tears as you pull him down and press your lips to his. “I love you, Harry,” you whisper against his perfect lips. You feel him exhale sharply as he keeps kissing you before he lifts his head so your eyes meet again.

“I’ve always loved you.”

Thank you for reading, let me know what you thought about it!

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles au #harry styles oneshot #harry styles fluff #harry styles one shot #harry styles x reader #harry styles xyou #harry styles x y/n #harry styles imagine #fanficmas2020 #fanficmas 2020 #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas #watchmegetobsessed fanficmas 2020

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thran-duils · 3 years ago

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Was Ich Liebe (P.1)

Title: Was Ich Liebe (Part One) Summary: Fem!Reader x Dark!Tony Stark. Tony becomes enamored with a stripper at a club his hedonistic friend Thor owns. A casual sexual relationship quickly becomes possessive and the reader sees more of the underground mafia life than she would like to. The cherry on top is that Tony is married and so is she. Him to a woman who has no intention of losing her throne at any cost and the reader to a deadbeat alcoholic. Feeling trapped by both her previous life and the suffocating hold Tony is trying to put on her, the reader steals away in the night, which is not going to go over well. Words: 4,301 Warnings (for whole fic, more may be added): Dub-con, smut, infidelity, stripping, vaginal fingering, public sex, possessive behavior, angst, degradation kink, violence, physical abuse, domestic violence, language, drug use, alcoholism, death Author’s Note: I did not have the ability to do a one shot. As usual, this is 18+.

Intro || Part Two || Masterpost (mobile) || Fanfic masterpost

Your legs and core were burning as you ended your routine to “Walk” by Pantera. You slowly slid down the pole as it was coming to an end, ending in a deep squat at the end, ass towards the crowd.

Turning back against the lights shining at you, you crawled on your knees seductively taking bills being held out and swiping up ones that had been tossed.

The tips were good tonight. You swiped your top from the ground you had thrown off halfway through much to the pleasure of the crowd, showing off your glow in the dark skull hand pasties. Happy autumn. And you walked off, holding your cash and looking forward to switching back to six inch heels to walk around now that your set was over.

Fixing your winged eyeliner, you spotted Thor coming in through the door to the dressing room. Everyone straightened up at his presence. He came straight over to you though. “Perle room, Y/N.”

That was a private customer room. It was easier being on the stage because you were blinded from the crowd for a lot of it with the lights. One on one was harder to dissociate since they were the only other soul in the room.

“You’re picking the songs. He paid for three.”

That was always a gamble; depending on what genre the customer liked, it could go up or down hill really quick.

Thor leaned in close and whispered in your ear, “And he’s a friend of mine, so behave, you hear? Make sure he leaves satisfied. He loves ass so grind, yeah?”

A friend of his was shady no doubt. But you nodded, making eye contact through the mirror. Thor smirked before planting a kiss on your temple.

“Good set by the way.”

“Thank you,” you said as he straightened up and turned to leave you.

Shit. That meant you needed to change. Which is why you always brought an extra set of lingerie. You went to your locker and pulled out the black set.

<><><>

Since it was going to be more intimate, you chose “Was Ich Liebe” by Rammstein to start. It would allow a lot of grinding.

When you walked in, he was already sitting on the opposite of the dark room in the black light. Even in the darkness, you recognized the man. It was not hard to do so with his high standing in the mob.

Tony Stark.

He was to be treated like a high-ranking customer and you were doing to do that.

You started on the pole, circling slowly before climbing and hooking your leg to spin controlled around.

Sliding down, you crawled on all fours to him, pulling yourself up by holding onto his knees that were already spread in anticipation of you. Turning around you ground your ass into his pelvis. Leaning back your face brushed his.

“What’s your name?” he breathed into your ear. You told him your fake name and his lips tugged up at the corner briefly. “You’re real name, sweetheart.”

“That is my real name.”

He chuckled, his nose nuzzling into your neck. “If you insist so, sweetheart.”

You fell into the music, alternating between him and the pole. Your second song started, “Problem” by Natalia Kills.

You moved back to his lap. His hands ran up and down your thighs as you grinded. Which was okay until his fingers slipped past your thong, cupping your sex as you ground into him. You lost rhythm with your lap dance and his breath was hot at your ear. “Just like that, keep going. You are doing beautifully.”

Men getting handsy in the private rooms was not unusual. Especially not ones who paid like he had but you workers knew to dispel it as much as possible. Do not let them get too bold.

You had to be crafty about how you maneuvered out of the situation though. He was Thor’s friend and you knew he was powerful. You resumed grinding, and his nose brushed your neck, inhaling deeply. His fingers threatened to push in and you reacted quickly. You moved out of his lap to dip down in your dancing, forcing his hand away. You were still doing what Thor wanted, giving him a good show. Your hands gripping your ankles, you moved your ass in rhythm with the song.

Tony was not going to be deterred though. Gripping your hips firmly, he pulled you back into his lap with a rough tug. He forced your legs open again and his hand was snaking past your panties again.

As the song sang about claiming your body, Tony’s fingers slid into your pussy and you jumped away from his embrace. You stood a couple feet away, holding your arms tightly around yourself. He was frozen, looking at you expectantly.

“You… you’re not supposed to touch us. It’s against the rules,” you told him, keeping the tremor out of your voice miraculously. You knew what trouble could come from denying a man like him.

Tony brought his fingers to his mouth and sucked them off slowly, tasting you. Your heart was hammering with the intense stare off he was having with you. He was handsome as all hell, but you knew he was the type of dangerous you should not have in your life.

He finally shrugged. “Noted. My apologies. I’ll behave, scouts honor.”

He beckoned you back with two fingers.

You swallowed your unease and came back, resuming. He kept his hands off of you like he vowed he was going to. Still, you spent a lot of the time on the pole during your final song “Inertia Creeps” by Massive Attack.

At the end, Tony stood up and he came up to you at the pole. You looked up at him with curiosity; men usually did not move when you left the room.

He smiled devilishly down at you and held out a couple of folded hundreds. He was giving you $200 in tips? Your eyes widened and he forced them into your hand.

Before you could react, he leaned in and caught your mouth. His lips were soft but his force was rough. You were dazed when he pulled away. He winked at you.

“I’ll be seeing you again soon, sweetheart. Thanks for the sweet dreams.”

<><><>

Next weekend you were called to the Perle room again. And again, you found Tony there. He chose the set list this time and had you starting out with “Dissolved Girl” by Massive Attack. He had enjoyed the other song so much, he wanted to see you perform more of the album in front of him.

“I’ve tried to stop thinking about you. It hasn’t worked.”

His hands came up, caressing your breasts. You turned your head and his hands loosened. He laughed, nipping at your ear.

“Right, right. The rules. Darling, do you know how hard it is to remember those around you?”

“I’ve heard that before. It doesn’t make the rules any less real,” you returned, pulling away from his embrace and sashaying back to the pole.

He was watching you hungrily as you worked yourself around the pole. There was a storm brewing in his eyes.

“How would you like to make some money outside this club?”

Dipping low, you met his eyes and saw he was serious.

“If you’re asking me to fuck you, I’m married.”

That was information you rarely gave out. But Tony seemed the type of man you needed to put a hard wall up with.

Tony gave you a wide grin. “No, not fucking. Just fun. I wanna have a night out. I just want company.”

Some of the girls did escort work like that. And since it was outside the club you got to keep everything, no tax was taking off the top. And your electricity bill was going to be higher next month since winter was coming.

You did not answer him immediately, rolling the idea around. Knees spread on the ground, dancing, you met his eyes again. He was still waiting for an answer.

Getting back up sultrily, you came to sit back in his lap. He hummed in approval as you said, “Sure. Where we going?”

<><><>

“Going to whore yourself out again?” Michael asked, his words already slurring.

You were wearing a peacoat coat over your dress but he could still it was short. He disapproved of you stripping but he always backtracked when you were able to pay the bills. And more so, bring him his favorite bottle of liquor every other night. Especially since he rarely brought any money in himself. You felt an obligation to him since you had been high school sweethearts.

“For your information, no. I’m going out with friends.”

A white lie.

“What friends? Your co-hooker friends? Glad you keep such great company. A bunch of pathetic bitches just like you, starving for validation…”

“No. Well-paying friends who want my company,” you spat without thinking, angry he was always putting you down.

He got up out of his chair and you moved quickly. The last time he had laid hands on you, you had to take a week off of work and Thor had been pissed.

Your hand was on the door handle, and you had it opened quick. He stumbled and that gave you enough time to get the door closed and move down the hallway. The elevator was not an option cause it was too slow and you took the stairwell, not missing him yelling expletives at you.

He would be passed out well before you got home.

<><><>

Your dress clung tight to your body. You looked around the restaurant, worrying that you were going to be stood up. You had been here for twenty minutes and had ordered a glass of wine.

You were halfway through it without a sign of him. This place was five star, and you did not want to do a walk of shame.

Thankfully for you, Tony sauntered in five minutes later and he slid into the booth across from you, adjusting his jacket as he did. Leaning back against the booth, he threw his arm across the back of it, relaxing back, looking at you. You had chosen the seat across the table.

“You’re punctual. That’s new.”

“Was I not supposed to be?”

“Darling. I never am. Next time let’s ride together. Reservations for 7? I’m here at 7:30 at best and they know to keep the table for me.”

The first date had not even started, and he was already talking about the next.

He suddenly noticed you had a chair and as the waiter approached. He gestured at you and said, “What’s this chair doing here? Is there supposed to be more people than can fit on this booth?”

“Uh, no, Mr. Stark. It was just put there in case someone wanted it—"

“Do you want it?” Tony asked you, interrupting.

You knew the answer he wanted. Calmly, you stood up and moved around the table to sit right up next to him. His hand lying across the back of the booth caressed your shoulder.

“No, here is fine,” you said.

“That’s what I thought. Now, let’s get you something delectable to eat to match how I know you taste. Top notch deserves the same in return.”

He winked salaciously and you blushed. This off-limits escorting was not going to last long; you could sense that. He was not a man that would be satiated with just a taste. He wanted the whole course.

And that whole course was you spread out for him whenever he so pleased.

<><><>

On the fourth date, he took the plunge.

His town car took the opposite way from your turn, and you looked at him.

“Where are we going?”

“Somewhere where we can enjoy each other fully.”

You opened your mouth, but Tony held a finger up to your lips, winking. There was a sinister feeling behind that wink, and you closed your lips. He smiled in approval, “You’re so well behaved, sweetheart. You’re going to be a lot of fun.”

At the hotel room, legs spread wide, Tony’s large hands held you at your waist as he drove up into you hard and quick. He was not a gentle lover.

He rocked forward quickly and in one fell swoop had managed to maneuver you to pull you with him and you ended up on top. Lining himself back up with your entrance, he plummeted back in, resuming his unforgiving pace. You cried as he held your arms tight, keeping you in place to use like his own personal toy. You were an object to him that he wanted to possess.

<><><>

Leg crossed over the other, relaxing back in the armchair, Tony demanded, “What’s her name?”

Thor told Tony your fake name without missing a beat as he worked across the desk. Tony had come here for answers and Thor would be hard pressed to give them away completely.

Tony stared at him across the table unimpressed and Thor stopped typing, noticing. He simpered, “Tony, it’s for her safety.”

“Are you afraid for her? Because of me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because her husband is a real piece of work.” He noticed the look on shocked Tony’s face, and he said, “Yeah, she wasn’t lying about that. I’m assuming she told you she was married. He might be a deadbeat, but he knows how to load a punch. If he found out she was doing more than dancing, I would be afraid for her. He’s already made her miss a couple weeks of work because of his Rambo fists when he’s gotten riled up just about the dancing. Which makes no sense to me because he barely brings money in, and she is essentially the sole breadwinner.”

Tony cocked an eyebrow. “And you want her to stay with that?”

“I didn’t say that.”

“Seems like you did.”

Thor snorted, “No, I just know what lengths you are willing to go to get your way. And I’m not sure I want you taking this on. As your friend. It’s advice.”

“It won’t be hard. I want her, so it’ll be worth the effort,” Tony said.

<><><>

“It was nice,” you told Tony as you sat in the back of his town car when he asked you how you had enjoyed the night.

He had taken you to a high-end seafood restaurant on a large boat docked at the marina. You meant what you said; it was delicious.

“I thought you would like it,” Tony stated, scooting closer and an arm slipped around your shoulder, holding you closer.

He was staring into your eyes, and you smelled the bourbon on his breath. You no doubt reeked of alcohol yourself. There was something lurking beneath his gaze though. And you soon found out what.

“Y/N,” Tony murmured. You froze and he smiled at your shock. His fingers trailed up your arm and came to cup you under the chin. “That’s such a lovely name.”

Unable to stop yourself, you asked, “How…?”

“Money talks,” Tony informed you as his hand spread to hold you beneath the jaw, fingers trailing behind your ear. You tried to pull away but his arm around you held tight, stopping your movement. He smirked briefly, “I’m not here to hurt you, darling. Don’t ever think that. I just simply adore you. I wanted to know about you. I want to take this further.”

“Further than just the bed?”

“Yes. I want you entirely.”

His firm tone was sincere. What had you gotten yourself into?

He pressed the button, and the partition went up between the two of you and the front seat. His hand left your neck to snake up your dress. “I want to call you by your real name when I take you this time.” He kissed you roughly and his lips brushed yours as he vowed, “I’ll have you whenever and wherever.”

<><><>

Months later, you awoke in the king bed in the mountain top suite. Sneaking a peek at the bedside clock, you saw it was almost four in the morning. You needed to leave. Tossing a look at Tony, seeing he was still sleeping, you tried to unravel yourself from his embrace as gently as you could.

But it was futile.

Tony yanked you back to him as you tried to crawl out of the bed. You protested lightly and he shushed you by roughly rolling you towards him and pressing his lips to yours, growing in intensity as he woke from slumber. His leg wrapped around you, trapping you against him. His cock was already growing hard again after the short nap the two of you had taken after the last tussle in the sheets.

You tried to make space as you said, “You know if I’m going to get home the time I said I was going to, I have to leave now.”

You were hours from home. He had taken you up into the mountains for the last couple of days. You had said you were going on a work trip with your coworkers per your managers request to dance at a new club. Michael would never know. That is unless you came home at the wrong time; then he would start to get suspicious.

The last couple of days had been really nice. Tony had been kind… until tonight. He always treated you to the best and made sure you were well taken care of. But he had gotten… off when he noticed you tonight having taken a nice tone and smiled at a busboy as you dropped off dishes near the kitchen entrance that was out of your way. You had only been trying to be nice to the guy. You knew what it was like working customer service and you only wanted to make his job a little bit easier. And he was not hard on the eyes. Receiving small flirtations was harmless in your eyes and it boosted your mood. It had done just that for the guy.

But upon coming back to the room, Tony was callous, and you had to pry him out of his shell with sweet words and caresses. He had been condescending, asking you if you got off on pleasing men in front of him. When you had told him you did not know what he was talking about he had torn your dress down the front, ignoring your shocked cries at his brutal behavior, and forced you onto the bed. The tatters of the dress had been torn from you completely and he had done the same to your underwear and then forcibly removed your bra from you. He had not even waited for you to get wet before slamming up into you.

“Who gives a fuck what that good-for-nothing husband of yours thinks?” He nipped at your neck, sucking in roughly. His hands gripped and held you close.

“My face does,” you retorted, trying to unwind yourself from him. But Tony was quick, locking you back down. “Tony, please.”

You managed to unlock yourself despite his grabbing and you slid off the bed, hitting the ground, your ass hitting it roughly. He exhaled sharply, glaring down at you and you moved quickly backwards, getting to your feet unsteadily. He was already getting out of the bed, and you moved quickly, snatching up your bag. Your dress was ruined, which was no matter. You could return in your sweats and top.

Tony was on you though and his grip on your bag was tight and he yanked back, drawing you with it. You let go as you stumbled as to not lose your balance and face plant. He used his momentum to throw the bag across the room by the sliding glass door.

“Tony! Stop playing games!” you said desperately, trying to move towards where he threw it, but he stepped in your way. “You know I have to get ready! You can’t be jealous of him. You know what this is.”

“So what if I’m jealous?” Tony asked, continuing to advance towards you and you kept walking backwards. Your back hit the wall, stopping your advancement. “The thought of you with him makes me sick.”

“He’s my husband—"

Tony slammed his fist on the counter, and you jumped back against the wall, causing it to shake slightly. “Stop making fucking excuses! He’s a piece of shit and you know it! Why won’t you just accept me?”

“Tony, I do—” you tried to placate him.

“Don’t you lie to me,” he warned in a snarl. “If that were true, you would be loyal to me and me only. You know how I feel. I want you. Wholly.”

That was so unfair of him to say when you knew he was married. But you also knew better than to point that out. Not when he was this belligerent; you knew belligerent men were hardly able to be reckoned with and calmed down. No, you needed to use other facts.

“And you did, this whole weekend,” you pointed out in shaky tones.

Tony’s laugh was maniac, “’Weekend’. Yeah, that’s what I mean when I say wholly.”

You tried to dodge around him quickly to go towards your bag, but he jolted out and grabbed you around the waist, swinging you around. You kicked your legs as he dragged you. You bounced on the mattress, not fully on it but not fully off it either. You grabbed at the sheets to get leverage and you got grounded just as his hand closed around your ankle. You pulled away with ferocity, landing on the other side of the bed. Scrambling, you grabbed your bag. Tony’s arm came around you, pulling you back.

“Tony!” you cried out, your voice cracking. “Please stop!”

There was a sharp knock at the door and the two of you froze. Tony swore underneath his breath and let you go, causing you to stumble because you had been relying on him.

He snatched up his briefs and threw them on before storming towards the door as another knock came.

He opened the door a crack and sighed frustrated, “What?”

You heard Happy, “Uh, I was coming to get Y/N… it’s time to take her back? I went to bed super early so I would be ready to take her back now?”

You were relieved to hear someone with sense.

“Fuck!” Tony snapped, tossing the door open and you squeaked, still naked. You rushed towards the hall to grab your sweats and sweater out and throw those on.

When you emerged again, Happy was waiting by the door and Tony was necking the bottle of bourbon he had bought. He slammed it back down on the counter and glared at you. You went to go towards him to kiss him goodbye to try to start to smooth things over, but he held up his hand forcibly and you stopped. He took another swig without looking at you.

Hurt, you turned towards Happy, who was looking at Tony with scrutiny as well before following you out the door. You fell asleep on the car ride home and when you arrived back at your place, Tony still had not texted you.

<><><>

Clutching your duffel bag, you climbed the stairs a week later to your apartment. Tony had been clipped in his responses since Happy had taken you home. You were growing simultaneously frustrated and nervous with possessive, aggressive behavior.

Upon walking in, you saw the living room was upturned. Your blood chilled and you immediately dropped your bag, going for the switchblade in your front pocket of it. It was out as you grabbed your cell phone out of your bag.

Just as you were about to dial 911, Tony emerged from the hallway, holding up his hand. “Darling, it’s just me.”

Dropping the hand with your phone, you demanded, “’Just you’? What are you doing?”

Tony shrugged, “What I needed to do.”

You did not like the way that sounded at all. And then you noticed all the blood on his hands and on the wetness on his black jacket, which was no doubt more blood. Your hand clutched your switchblade tighter. Tony’s eyes dropped to it, and he looked back up at you.

“Sweetheart, there’s no need for that. It’s just me.”

“’Just you’? Where’s Michael?”

Tony rolled his eyes, annoyed. He turned his back and walked towards the kitchen. He flipped the switch on in there as he moved towards the sink. You moved to follow him and upon seeing more of the kitchen, you saw Carol and Rhodes were sitting at the table, having a drink.

“Where’s Michael?” you repeated.

Washing his hands in the sink now, without a care for the blood splattering, Tony told you, “I could have used a gun, but this was personal.”

The horror of what he was admitting without outright saying it was washing down on you. Your hand wavered, threatening to drop your switchblade.

“You…you…” you stammered; your chest was tight.

Tony continued rinsing the blood off of his hands, unbothered. He finished as you stood there frozen by your shock. Shaking his hands off, he wiped them on his black jeans and turned back to face you. As soon as he started to come close, you regained sense of self and your hand gripped tighter on your blade again.

Tony was not having any of that. He was quick and gripped your wrist tightly, twisting it so you cried out, dropping the blade. He held you up to the wall by your throat.

His word was law sinking around you, “No more excuses, Y/N. You’re all mine now.”

~~~

Song list to set the mood for me while writing:

Was Ich Liebe -- Rammstein Walk -- Pantera Problem -- Natalia Kills Inertia Creeps -- Massive Attack Dissolved Girl -- Massive Attack Just For Me -- Saint Jhn feat. Sza

Marvel tags: @coconutqueen21 @undecidedsworld @holl2712 @agustdowney @biiskuitx

#tony stark x reader #dark!tony stark #dark tony stark #dark marvel #my shit

127 notes · View notes

sunjaesol · 4 years ago

Text

my sweet romantic teenage nights

juke | high school + diner au | title: scenes from an italian restaurant // billy joel

Magenta’s Palace was an artefact from the glorious American Dream; a fluorescent gem wrapped in that 60s architecture and old-fashioned uniforms. It was also the hang-out spot of most LF Arts students, right in the heart of Los Feliz and on most kids’ path.

Luke used to roll his eyes at the place, thinking it was corny and certainly not the place a punk-rocker like him would go… until he tasted their gnarly waffles. And burgers. And milkshakes. His love for good food trumped his desire for street cred and ended up like the rest of his peers: a regular at MP.

Alex and Reggie never had qualms with it. The former was rather happy Luke got over himself and Reggie was simply pleased to spend more time with his friends. It became tradition to eat there every Friday after school. Sometimes they stayed until the early hours of the night talking, sometimes it was to fuel up before a gig.

Settling in their booth (theirs - Luke has made sure to carve the underside of the table with their names), Luke sighed contently. “Boys, this gig is gonna be fire.”

“I still don’t know how you convinced the guys at Raven’s Nest,” Alex mused, glancing around for a waitress in a candycane-coloured uniform.

Reggie nodded gravely. “Yeah, they’re scary.”

“Used my charm,” he smirked. “Dialled it up like I always do.”

The blonde snorted. “Sure.”

Luke’s face crashed. “Fine. I used our fake’s when he didn’t believe we were eighteen.”

His friends grinned, Alex snapping his fingers. “There it is.”

The chipper Nora glided towards them, slaloming between tables with her notebook. Alex’ remark didn’t bother him, crossing his arms with a shrug. “Does it matter? I got us in. They’re gonna love us. Nay! They’re gonna eat this set up!”

“You better be right - hi, Nora - cause it’s a bar for bikers. Real ass bikers,” Alex replied, shooting Nora a smile.

“Hello, boys,” she greeted, her signature red hair tied in a messy bun. Reg used to have a crush on her when they first visited, until they realised she was twenty-three and in a committed relationship with a guy from USC studying medicine. Yeah, he had no shot. Luke had to console him by buying five chocolate shakes and blasting Elvis Presley in the car.

Despite this, Reggie still had a soft spot for her, smiling kindly at the waitress. “Our usual, please.”

The notebook got tucked in her apron with a bright nod. “Coming right up!”

As Nora swiftly returned behind the glossy bartop, parlaying the order to the kitchen, the entrance opened. The bell above chimed, three girls appearing beneath it.

Oh, shit.

When Luke enrolled into LF Arts as a green fourteen year old, he had planned to only focus on music and nothing else. He’d blaze through his classes and become the best in music and then, with his obsessive nature at a peak, would launch the band into the next stratosphere. That was the plan. Music, music, music. (And food from Magenta’s.)

Fourteen year old Luke wasn’t aware girls like Julie Molina existed though. That changed on the first day. She came to the front of the class, blew everyone away with a Taylor Swift cover and shot a toothy smile when she finished - like it was nothing. Like she didn’t have the voice of the century. (Like she wouldn’t mess with Luke’s plans of becoming the best, damn it!) Though his initial reaction was envy, he quickly realised it was rather a disgruntled crush than actual dismay.

She was cute. Still cute. After every summer break, he expected her to be less pretty so that his nerves could calm down for once. Nope. Julie Molina was pretty as hell.

He has never seen her here on Friday’s. Why now? Why now when they were mentally preparing themselves for a gig that could get them their asses kicked if they didn’t perform well? Luke needed to focus! Not think about where she’d sit and what she’d talk about and what she was going to eat.

His eyes tracked as Julie, Flynn and Kayla were in busy conversation, barely aware of their surroundings. Her head rolled back in a laugh at something Flynn said, eyes shut in glee. Luke flushed red, averting his gaze to the scratched up table. His friends were snickering, Alex muttering a ‘Jesus…’ under his breath.

Luke snapped his arm. “Stop being a dick.”

“Why don’t you just ask her out?”, Reggie pondered, absentmindedly making origami with the thin napkins.

“I think he needs to talk to her first to do that,” Alex teased before Luke could respond, earning another glare.

It wasn’t like he and Julie never spoke. They were seniors, they had multiple classes together and spent many hours cooped in the same music classroom. He was even part of her group project in junior year! They’ve talked! But it never lead to anything, his lingering stares falling for her oblivious profile, her never once looking back at him.

The connection Luke always craved hasn’t been there, though he always felt like they could have that. Musical spirits were alike, right? At least his crush wasn’t as hopeless as Reggie’s on Nora.

The girls chose a booth right next to theirs, Julie in his direct line of sight. Alex was buzzing in his seat from stifled laughter, visibly trying to not turn his head and address them. The guitarist felt like dying, not even the steaming plates of burgers set in front of them enough to lift his mood.

Luke leaned forward, voice a hiss. “I can talk to her. I just… haven’t felt the need to.”

Reggie patted his shoulder sympathetically. “It’s okay, buddy. You don’t have to lie to us.”

Frustration began simmering his skin, the scowl deepening. He wasn’t lying! Maybe a little! He’s been waiting for the right time to approach her, say and do the right thing to sweep her off her feet like the fucking rockstar he was. Had he been preparing his lines since he was fourteen? Also maybe. They were being revised.

Alex often told him he shouldn’t put Julie on a pedestal. That she was just a girl. It made him wonder if he was the only one that first day of high school that felt it. That awestruck whooping in his chest from seeing her curls dance around her almond eyes and hear how each lyric was laced with a passionate smile. Even at fourteen was he aware of how special that was. Julie wasn’t just a girl. She was the coolest girl he’s ever met and he didn’t even know her that well. He couldn’t imagine actually becoming friends with her, uncovering all facets of her personality and not get overwhelmed by her Julie-ness.

Huh. His crush went deeper than he thought. Yikes.

At the end of the day, Luke could admit that he was simply a teenage boy nervous to talk to a girl. ‘Nervous’ was like a curse word to him though, that admission a secret he’d take with him to the grave.

“Eh,” Alex quipped, egging him on. “Luke’s a terrible liar. He doesn’t have to tell us for us to know it’s true.”

His hands slammed down on the table, words spouting from his lips. “Girls! Can we get your napkin dispenser?!”

Fucking fantastic, Luke.

All three perked up in surprise, Flynn twisting in her booth to curl her nose and tilt her head. “Why?”

“It’s empty,” he bluffed.

Kayla craned her neck and instantly caught Reggie’s handiwork scattered across the table. “No, it’s not.”

Julie sat next to her, blinking in confusion. “Why do you need our napkins?”

Her smooth voice directed right at him caused a thrill up his spine, a grin involuntarily tugging on his lips. “Cause Reggie needs them for his crafts.” Playing along, the bassist lifted a janky frog with a wink. “I’m very dedicated.”

She matched Luke’s smile, amused. It was the most interaction he has had with her in months, the utter euphoria of it all bursting at the seams. Propelled by her smile, he slid out the booth and into Alex’ side, throwing his arms over the seat right next to Flynn’s head. The girl remained deeply unimpressed by him, gaze flicking past his physique. Damn. If he ever wanted to get anywhere with Julie, he had to get in Flynn’s good grazes. Kayla seemed chill though.

“What’s with the frown, Felicity?”, he joked.

Kayla giggled at the mention of Flynn’s actual name, the girl in question rolling her eyes. “All I’m wondering is why you have to bother us about napkins, Lukas.”

“Flynn,” Julie shook her head with an exasperated grin, “maybe wait for your strawberry shake? I think you’re being hangry.”

Her friend loosened up, sinking back in her seat with a playful pout and mumbling a resigned ‘fine.’

Luke took that as his sign to continue. His gaze fell back on Julie, hoping he wouldn’t sound too eager. “You guys come here a lot? I haven’t seen you here on Friday’s.”

“Who’re you asking?”, Julie asked, looking between her and Kayla. Oh, man. Small talk really wasn’t his forte. He couldn’t charm himself out of this one with music jargon or fake IDs.

His smile turned stressed, flailing his hand around. “Uh, all of you.”

“Sure,” Flynn snorted.

Alex slapped a hand on his mouth at her retort, almost in pain of not laughing his ass off. The prize of ‘Worst Friends Ever’ went to Luke’s - for fuck’s sake, couldn’t the drummer at least try and help him out?!

“Just wanted to celebrate Kayla’s good mark on her new song,” Julie continued, wilfully ignoring the other’s behaviour. Slinging an arm around her friend, she shot her a bright smile. “Her bridge was amazing, right?”

All three boys nodded fervently as Kayla ducked her head bashfully, murmuring a ‘thank you’ and then relieved from all the attention when Nora walked up to them. Luke’s body didn’t twist to sit normally again, too invested in finally speaking to them, finally having that contact, that he didn’t even care if he seemed like a weirdo. Julie and him! Conversing!

“Speaking of music,” he casually uttered when Nora was off again. His signature smirk crawled on his lips. “We’re playing a gig tonight.”

This peaked Flynn’s interest. Perhaps the prospect of food made her more amicable. “Where?”

“Raven’s Nest,” Reggie proudly proclaimed.

Kayla frowned, worried. “Isn’t that the bar with all the bikes outside?”

“Thank you!”, Alex exclaimed with a sigh. “It’s insane!”

“It’s not,” Luke bit back. If Sunset Curve wanted to make it big, they had to play big! Gigs like these would get them on the stages they dreamed of. Soon, it was goodbye, Raven’s Nest and hello, The Orpheum! “Real Californians go there to hear real fucking music.”

To his surprise, Julie hummed in agreement. “My dad says it used to be where the subculture kids hung out before MP got cool.”

“Yes!” His grin was huge now, overflowing with joy. This was enough adrenaline to get him through three gigs at once! His finger pressed into the cracked leather. “Exactly! And we’re gonna slay it. You should come watch!”

The latter blurted out without wanting to, his eyes growing wide in panic as Reggie and Alex stilled in their seats and Flynn peered up at him with laser-focus. Shit. Was he telling on himself? Did she pierce through the charisma that this was just a poor attempt at flirting? God, he really should’ve prepared his speech for impulsive moments like these.

Luke still needed to endure some growing pains before he got good at flirting.

Julie chuckled, a hint of red appearing on her cheekbones. It enthralled him. Was she embarrassed or flattered? “Uh,” she bit her lip, “I don’t know if I can get in. Don’t you have to be eighteen?”

He raised his brow. “C’mon, you don’t have a fake?” At those words, Alex dropped his head on the table with a thud. Luke had enough of his own shit too. ‘Mortified’ didn’t even come close to how he felt about his blabbering mouth.

Levelling his challenged look, however, he realised he wasn’t lost quite yet. Julie’s eyes glittered with mischief. “I do, actually.”

Breath caught in his throat. Yup. Coolest fucking girl in the universe. Julie Molina had a killer voice and a fake ID and probably did a whole lot of other dope stuff he hadn’t found out yet.

“Julie,” Flynn but in. “It’s a biker bar.”

“Where our classmates are playing,” she argued. “I can always try.”

“You’ll die.”

“I think I’ll be fine. Like Luke said-” No. She could not say his name and expect him to keep his cool. His fingers gripped the conjoined couch tighter. “-everyone’s there for the music.”

A careful smile slowly grew on Kayla. “We can tell your dad you’re with us.”

Flynn gaped at her. “We-?! I- okay.” Lifting her hands in surrender, she added: “Fine, we’ll tell Ray you’re at the movies with us.”

Wait, was Julie turning down a movie night with her friends to see him play? Did that mean something? Has he been so focused on trying to find or create a ‘vibe’ that he forgot to actually look for signs of her own? Damn. Now he really couldn’t screw this set up. Sunset Curve was gonna play until their hands bled, hopefully impressing her just a little bit.

It was settled then. After both groups had eaten, Julie separated from hers and joined them on their trek to Raven’s Nest. She was mostly talking to Reggie behind Alex and Luke, animatedly recounting a story about Carlos nearly crashing his drone in her keyboard. Jitters began to tingle his skin, that building excitement right before a gig mixing with Julie’s presence. It felt like one of his dreams materialised out of thin air.

How many times has he dreamt about catching her eye in the crowd as he crooned love songs he never dared to write? Granted, those dreams were centered in a hazier setting, Raven’s Nest quite unromantic opposed to that, but he would take what he got.

(And after, they’d worm their way through the masses of people, meeting halfway, and she’d sling her arms around his neck and he’d pull her into a kiss and it’d be electric. She’d kiss like she sang. It was a recurring dream that left him in a good mood for hours.)

Without much hesitance, the bouncer let Julie in. Luke, unable to keep his giddiness at bay, squeezed her shoulder as a dazzling beam was glued to his cheeks. Julie got in! Julie was going to see him play!

Raven’s Nest was expectedly filled with bearded, burly men. It reeked of beer and strong liquor, raucous chatter spilling from ever corner. They all probably looked like babies in comparison to these dudes, but he supposed his unfaltering confidence made up for it. Luke would get his boys (and Julie) through this. The stage was already prepared for them, amps and mics set up, Alex’ drums waiting in Reggie’s van behind the establishment.

“I’ve seen you play before, you know,” Julie mumbled beside him.

His heart soared without trying, its rate going a mile a minute as his jaw fell slack. All his nerves intensified till a blush crept on his cheeks. “You- you have?”

Her curious eyes flitted from the people to him, sheepish. “Yeah. At Ecliptica. You guys were good.”

A clammy hand raked the ends of his hair. Holy fucking shit. “You sounded like you never heard us before.”

“I didn’t want to seem like a fangirl, or something.” A secretive smile formed on her lips as she leaned into his side. “You know how school is. Everyone trying to be the best, but then act super casual about it?” Her eyes sparked in the yellow lighting, too close for him to think straight. “I didn’t want it to inflate you guys’ egos.”

Luke sputtered out a disbelieving laugh. “You’re doing it right now, Julie.”

“Then you better kill it,” she teased, nodding at Alex and Reggie hauling the drums onstage from the back door. “I think that’s your cue.”

There were two things he thought of right as he ascended the stage.

One, Julie was fat better at this whole back and forth than he was.

Two, he had to direct at least one song to her from their thirty minute set. Just one. Just so that his feelings might come across. Where words ended, music bled from his soul instead.

And so, the band exploded into what they knew best: burning the fucking house down.

So we’re taking the long way home 'Cause I don’t wanna be wasting my time alone I wanna get lost and drive forever with you Talking 'bout nothing, yeah, whatever, baby So we’re taking the long way home tonight We're taking the long way home

The giggly teenagers ended back in the diner after the incredible gig, shouting from the adrenaline and jostling arms to get points across. Even Julie joined in, much to his delight, tucked between him and the wall as she had a heated debate with an excited Reggie - harmonies versus basslines. Lemonades filled in condensed glasses gave them sticky fingers, hers once pushing his chin away when he told a particularly dumb joke and leaving an imprint. Luke was on fucking cloud nine.

Taking the upper hand in the debate, Julie sang a bit of one of their songs (“Let's seize the day, let's run away, don't let the colours fade to grey!”) with all the tricks in the book, silencing Reggie just like that. Alex high fived Julie, the bassist admitting she won this time. Deeply relishing the sound of her singing voice, Luke barely caught what she was saying after.

“This time?”, she laughed. “There’s another time?”

“Why not?” Reggie wiggled his brows, unsubtle as hell when he shot Luke a wink. “Diner Friendship Memories Still To Be Made!”

Alex blinked. “What?”

Her eyes tracked past the boys, the smile turning more timid. It settled on Luke, the boy unable and unwilling to look away. He wanted this night to never end. Clasping her lemonade, she nodded firmly, as if signing Reggie’s silly Friendship Contract.

“Yeah… why not.”

Magenta’s Palace became Luke favourite place in the entire world. Every Friday, Julie joined the boys at their booth, sometimes Kayla and Flynn too. Huddled in those red leather seats with mountains of fries, they shared the first slivers of newfound friendship. Luke has always been very cautious about who he let in his circle (Sunset Curve against The World), but six people in a booth felt cosy rather than suffocating. Like it was always to be like this.

Reggie found an equally enthusiastic jazz lover in Kayla. Alex confided with Flynn that he followed her playlists on Spotify and was obsessed with her DJ skills.

Luke and Julie created their own bubble without trying to.

It was weird. Maybe Alex was right and Luke did put her on a pedestal for so long. Julie was genuinely chill and easy to talk to, probably turned off by him before cause he had been acting like a blubbering idiot. Simply being himself was, surprisingly, more than enough for her. It lit a fire inside of him. Snarky banter about music that challenged him to keep up, overt flirting from him that kept her blushing, sudden ideas about lyrics that threw either for a loop. He wouldn’t admit it at first, but she made him a better songwriter.

Who knew his best songs would be found on stained paper napkins?

One Friday night, long past midnight, the group stood outside as they bid each other a good weekend. Bathed in the pink glow of the LED lights, Luke felt it in his gut. He had to tell her. These past weeks his feelings had only grown tenfold, this incessant buzz rippling every atom of his body whenever she was close. Whenever she smiled, talked, sang. Stealing his beanie, eating his fries, sharing AirPods. Luke loved it all.

It was a lot more than a simple crush.

After Julie hugged Alex, Luke grabbed her into a tight hug. She instantly responded, wrapping her arms around his waist and burrowing herself in his red hoodie. His infatuated smile was hidden by her curls, so fucking happy he’d been impulsive enough to ask for a dispenser that day.

“Hey, Julie,” he whispered.

She looked up, eyes alight with an emotion that left his shivering. “Yeah?”

“Uh…” A smile trembled on his lips, unsure whether he wanted to drown in the pretty brown of her irises or continue talking. Now or never. “You wanna get breakfast tomorrow? With me?”

He didn’t have to live in the fear for long, a smile stretching across her cheeks as she shyly nodded. It was the first time he’d ever seen her this flustered, their hold on each other securing with quiet glee. Had he not been so mesmerised, the awestruck Luke would run a mile from the adrenaline rush.

“Yeah,” she grinned, nose scrunched. “Sounds fun.”

They found themselves in the same spot the next day, the taste of syrupy pancakes melting with his as he kissed her on the parking lot of Magenta’s Palace. Julie’s lips curled into a smile and Luke figured there was no better feeling in the world then that.

(Yeah, he could get used to this.)

Saturday’s mornings had never been sweeter.

✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨✨

@blush-and-books @willexx @bluefirewrites @unsaid-emily @ourstarscollided

#juke #jatp fanfiction #julie and the phantoms #otp: i think we make each other better

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theydontknowaboutusimagines · 4 years ago

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Still The One - Harry Styles Mini Series (Part 1)

*Kinda a companion to my series Outside the Rain... basically I didn’t like where I took that series, so I’m “starting over” with this one. It’s a bit of a flash forward about a year or so after where that series left off. You don’t necessarily have to read that series first, but you certainly can.

I chose the title Still the One based on both song by the band Orleans and Shania Twain because I love both of these songs and I think both fit with where I’m going with this... hopefully. And... One Direction had a song by the same name too... so why not.

“Like a cigarette without a light...like a whippoorwill without the night… a broken buzz that’s lost it’s high, oh baby that’s what I feel like,” you sang softly as you strummed the strings of your guitar.

You wrote down the lyrics into your journal. You had been itching to put this song… your feelings down on paper and you finally got around to doing it. Even though it was something you wanted, needed to do, it was also something that made everything you were feeling real.

It had been well over six months since you and Harry had ended your relationship. Technically, it was worded as a break, but it ended up being an actual breakup. Things had been going fine for the most part, but then 2020 happened and it all became too much. So, naturally, you pushed him away to the point neither of you were happy anymore. You even pushed your friends, the girls in the band you just reunited with, away.

Pushing people away, especially those you are closest with has always been your downfall. Whenever you’re feeling down or sometime of way, you rather deal with it alone because you don’t want to risk bringing down someone else. So, you just… push them away until they don’t want to bother with you anymore. Or they give you an ultimatum and you don’t choose them.

Which is exactly what happened with both relationships. Everything had been going great for you at the time. Your band was back together after you all took some time for solo projects and the fans were looking forward to you going on tour. But then, you injured your knee, putting the upcoming tour in jeopardy, which caused a rift between you and the girls. And it only got bigger and worse from there.

When it came to your love life, you were the happiest you’ve been in a long time. You met your ex, Harry Styles, at the Rock N Roll Hall of Fame, when you both performed and introduced Stevie Nicks that night. You and Harry had quickly hit it off and with the help of some nudging from your good old Aunt Stevie, you two got together. And you fell fast and hard.

And that’s exactly when things took a turn. With your knee injury, Harry had agreed to stay with you to help you out, but it was also around the same time that he had his own things he needed to do. You felt as if you were holding him back. Then there was a little mishap over an old photo, which eventually got resolved, but it also brought up some feelings that scared you.

So, with the mix of those two that then carried over into the hot mess of 2020, your abort mission instincts kicked it and well… now you’re in the exact place you had wanted all those months ago.

Suffering alone with a broken heart. Just when one injury fully healed, you brought another one upon yourself and honestly you didn’t know which one was worse.

You wrote half of the song when you finally couldn’t take it anymore. You had to stop and walk away. You put down your guitar, closed your journal, and went out to your balcony. You took deep breaths as you soaked up the remainder of the sunlight as the sun started to set and let the wind caress you.

All it would take is for you to pick up the phone and call him… call the girls… reach out and talk to them. But you couldn’t. Too much has been said and there’s been too much time that has gone by for a simple phone to make it all better. Besides, you don’t even know what you would say to any of them at the moment.

Especially to Harry. The second you hear his voice, you know you’d break down and wouldn’t be able to speak. And plus, did you even have the right to call him and expect him to even give you the time of day? You hurt him. You broke his heart just as much if not more than you broke your own. There’s a big possibility that he was over you, that he moved on, or that he was so pissed off at you, he didn’t want to hear anything you had to say.

And if you were being honest with yourself, the latter might actually hurt worse. The past few months, once the overwhelming feeling started to dissolve, you knew you had fucked up and of course, now you knew you royally fucked up.

Which meant Harry deserved to move on. He deserves someone who would choose him and wouldn’t push him away like you did, so with that being said, maybe…maybe it was time for you to let him go.

Punch after punch after punch, Harry strikes the punching bag in front of him. Sweat dripped down his face and chest as his arms burned with each hit. He wiped the sweat from his forehead with the back of his arm before going back to his punching fest. No matter how long he did this, no matter how long he went for a run, there was still this pressure built up inside his chest.

An ache that has been there for a while and no matter what he did, it wouldn’t go away. He even tried writing out his pain, but it only made it worse.

“You can’t keep doing this,” Jeff said from the doorway.

“Doing what?” Harry asked, chugging down some water.

“Sulking, feeling sorry for yourself, trying to beat the shit out of that bag to make yourself feel better,” Jeff mumbled.

“I’m working out,” Harry defends.

“That’s what you’re telling yourself, but it’s obvious,” Jeff said.

“What are you talking about?” Harry said, throwing off his boxing gloves.

“I get it, you’re still in love with Y/N and dealing with all of that shit on top of everything else, but avoiding what’s going on is going to work. You need to either try and reach out to her and get closure to whatever the fuck, or you need to move on, because this- this isn’t it,” he told him.

“Don’t you think I know that?” Harry snapped. “Do you think I enjoy feeling like this? I’m fucking tired of it! I thought… I fucking thought she was it for me, but once again I was too fucking blinded about falling in love, about wanting someone to come home to and look where it fucking got me.”

“You’re angry,” Jeff stated. “Let it out.”

“I can’t!” Harry snapped.

“Why not?” Jeff asked.

“Because I can’t be angry with her,” Harry sighed. “That’s the fucking problem. This… all of this shit would be so much easier if her breaking up with me was because she didn’t love or hell even if she cheated on me, but knowing she broke it off because she’s dealing with shit...I wasn’t enough for her. I wasn’t enough to help her. That’s my job… I’m supposed to be there for her… to help her… to protect her, and I fucking failed.”

“Hey,” Jeff rushed over, taking his best friend into his arms. “You didn’t fail. Y/N had her own issues, and she… I don’t know why she pushed you away, but that isn’t your fault.

Harry put his head into his hands, wiping away the sweat and the tears falling down his cheeks.

“I think...I think enough time has passed that you should reach out to her. It might be the best for the both of you,” Jeff suggested.

“I don’t know,” he sighed.

“The Grammy’s are in a few weeks, both of you are going to be there,” Jeff said. “Don’t you think it would be better for the two of you to hash this out before seeing each other for the first time on national TV?”

Harry sighed, knowing he was right, but he still didn’t know if he could bring himself to reach out to you just yet. He didn’t know if he could hear your voice and not break down. However, he knew he would have to face this eventually, but now wasn’t the time.

You were currently in your home studio laying down the track of the song you had recently written. You weren’t the best at mixing or producing, but you knew and were comfortable enough to make it sound half decent. At least until you could get some others to come in and work on it.

It took a few goes until you found one you were satisfied with. You downloaded and sent the demo to your crew.

“Okay, that’s enough for the day,” you mumbled.

You turned everything off before heading into your kitchen where you made yourself some food. Just as you were sitting down to binge watch another show, your phone rang. Your heart instantly sank at the sound of the ringtone, still after all this time, you got a bit anxious wondering who was on the other line.

Seeing Stevie’s name across the top brought both a little ease, but also a bit of disappointment.

“Hey, Stevie,” you answered.

“How’s my favorite goddaughter?” she asked.

“I’m okay,” you sighed.

“You don’t sound okay,” she noted.

“I’m just… going through it,” you mumbled. “I’ll be fine.”

“Aren’t we all,” she said. “But I also know that just because you keep saying you’re fine doesn’t mean you are.”

You sighed.

“Look, I’m back in town, why don’t you come over, spend a few days if you’d like, and we can talk through this because if I know you, you’ve been alone this entire time and that’s not good for anyone,” she said.

“How do you always know everything?” You mumbled.

“I’ve been around a long time and lived an interesting life, I know things,” she smirked.

“Apparently,” you sighed. “Fine, I’ll stop by tomorrow afternoon.”

“I look forward to seeing you,” she smiled.

You sighed, ending the call, and wondered what Stevie had up her sleeve.

Harry finished up rehearsals before stopping by to get food. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was until he sat in the car driving to home, well the place he stayed at while he was in LA. Even though he lived there, he couldn’t bring himself to call it home. It felt too empty, too cold for it to ever be a home.

Just as he pulled into his driveway, got out of his car, and carried his bag of food inside, his phone started to ring. Everytime his phone rang, he silently hoped it was you calling on the other line, but if it was, he didn’t know if he could bring himself to answer.

But it wasn’t you, but it was someone close to you… and to him. Stevie. He thought about not answering it, letting it go to voicemail then maybe following up with a text that he’ll call her soon, but he knew it wasn’t fair to let his relationship with her be affected by what happened with you.

“Hey,” Harry answered.

“Hello there, how’s everything going?” She asked.

“It’s going,” Harry laughed. “I just finished up rehearsals.”

“For the Grammys right?” She asked.

“Yep that would be it,” he said.

“How are you feeling about that?” She asked.

“Nervous… and excited, ready to get back on stage,” he answered.

“It’ll be a great night, I’m sure,” she said. “But I know you’re probably busy, but I wanted to let you know I’m back in town and I would love for you to come over for dinner tomorrow night, as long as you’re not busy.”

“Um… I’ve got another rehearsal earlier in the day, but I could stop around for a quick dinner,” he nodded.

“Great, it’s settled, then. I’ll see you tomorrow,” she said.

Harry hung up and sat down with his food. It wasn’t exactly unheard of for Stevie to call him up and invite him over for dinner. They’ve both done that plenty of times, but there was something going on with this particular invite Harry just couldn’t put his finger on.

But whatever it was, he would find out tomorrow.

And there’s the first part... not sure how often I’ll update since I am still writing the Sunflower AU series, but I’m going to try and post every other week at first.

Let me know your thoughts!

#Harry Styles Imagines #Harry Styles Fanfiction #Harry Styles Fanfics #Harry Styles fan fic

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valhallanrose · 3 years ago

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The Moon Will Sing

When facing the reality of a bargain made, sixteen year old Catriona realizes that hard choices must be made before she loses herself completely.

Avery (they/them), Edrine (she/they/he), and Astoria (she/they) are all nonbinary. Bolded pronouns are the ones used in this fic for each of them.

This fic acts as the end of the first ‘act’ of Astoria’s pre-canon, and also ends the frequency of Senga appearances. Hell yeah. I also blame the length on this being pretty lore heavy, because this covers a lot of bases.

7.4k. No CWs apply.

Title: The Moon Will Sing, The Crane Wives

Noise was no strange occurrence in the halls of Castle Kintyre - between the three generations living within its walls full time, the youngest generation currently ranging in ages from sixteen to twelve, it was an inevitability. It was easy enough to ignore after a time, and most of the residents had become accustomed to adapting if they could not completely block it out.

The kind of noise that had come to Kintyre on this day, however, was the kind that made your ears ring and your head pound just trying to make sense of it all. There were so many more bodies slipping between the walls, across the grounds, too many unfamiliar faces for Catriona to feel particularly keen on leaving their bedroom until they absolutely had to.

Blessedly, September had brought the beginning of the storm season - the rain pounding against the glass drowning out the gathering crowds until it faded to a murmur they could stand. Though, her sanctuary would have to end. Soon enough, she’d have to face the crowd, and brace herself for the hundreds of pairs of eyes from all corners of Rosinmoor.

Thunder crackled in the distance as she stood before the mirror, idly tracing the gilded flowers and birds that framed the glass with their fingertips even as their mind wandered elsewhere.

Three years ago, Catriona had left with Myrna to visit Lulia, and though she had a wonderful time, the shadow of the promise made with her mother still hung heavy on her shoulders. And it would follow her to Vesuvia, to Firent, to Prakra, from the Sea of Persephia to the Bay of Jewels and everywhere in between.

The letter came in the summer before her sixteenth birthday, calling her home to prepare her for her coronation as Luxe of Kintyre.

True to her word, she’d returned home no matter how desperately she wanted to run, and threw herself into the lessons her mother packed her schedule with in hopes she might just feel nothing at all.

A tactic that had worked a little too well, perhaps, as she felt empty all the way down to her bones.

Her mother hadn’t seemed to care. She’d gotten her way. A fact she emphasized when the Baroness herself flounced into Catriona’s room moments after the sun broke over the horizon with the coronation gown and two handmaids in tow, chattering happily about getting her ready and how perfect she’d look before the morning began to blur into an odd tornado of hair curling and poking and prodding to make everything look just so.

The dress Senga had chosen was white, with a simple neckline and puffy sleeves. The silk base was laid over with delicate gossamer, and the whole thing was embroidered with metallic silver floral motifs as well as tiny vines. The whole thing was finished with a golden sash and a rather full petticoat that made Catriona feel like the porcelain doll that sat untouched on their dresser for most of their childhood.

Senga had kissed her on the brow once she was ready, fluffed the carefully styled curls that hung against her shoulders, and promised she’d be back shortly to come get her once it was time for the ceremony to begin.

Rosinmoor was a nation steeped in tradition as much as it was superstition. The first heir to be named after the establishment of the seven seats was Aoife, the sixteen year old daughter of Balmoral the Breaker and Muiri Leamhnach. As their only child, she stood to inherit Braemuir in its entirety, and Balmoral had thrown a celebration, inviting not only clan leaders but all those who chose to live in the nation once it had been established. Seven clan leaders had borne witness to a public proclamation, and since then, every heir had been acknowledged in the same exact way.

So now that her time had come, seven clan leaders had come to bear witness and acknowledge her as the next to hold the title of Luxe Kintyre, and eventually, Baronet.

A knock at the door drew her out of her reverie, and she quickly slipped her shoes on - flats, her mother had insisted, because it would be ‘disastrous’ if she fell on such an important day - before taking the few steps necessary to open the door and meet her mother’s inspection.

Catriona recognized the suit her mother wore. It was the same from her own coronation as Baroness, though it had been tailored once again, and golden embroidery added to the cuffs and lapels of the deep green fabric. Never did Senga fail to look polished, either, with her auburn hair perfectly straightened and smooth beneath the intricate crown that adorned her head.

The leaders of Rosinmoor did not wear their crowns outside of official ceremonies, for the sake of practicality, but the proclamation of heirs was an occasion that called for them. Senga was no exception, the gold and emerald glimmering even in the low light of the hall.

“There you are, dear.” Senga smiled, reaching forward and gently smoothing a few pieces of hair away from her face. “You look lovely. Are you ready to go down?”

“As I’ll ever be.” Catriona stepped into the hall beside her mother, letting her lead her down the hall with a hand laid lightly against her lower back. Senga only chuckled softly in amusement, heels clicking on the stone floors and cutting through the chatter as it slowly became more noticeable.

“You’ll be fine, Catriona.” Senga took a single step down the stairs, then turned, offering her hand to Catriona with a smile. “It’ll be over before you know it. Cherish it.”

She lingered at the top of the stairs, looking up to the great window of stained glass that was dark with the storm beyond it, and let out a deep breath before she lowered her gaze to her mother’s palm.

Funny to think that once the worst thing in the world had been being eleven years old and having to hold someone’s hand to traverse these same steps. And now, being sixteen, knowing what awaited them at the bottom…

The dam that surrounded their heart began to crack.

* * * * *

When Catriona had been led into the great hall, it was absolutely packed with people - and the storm had kept away the bulk of the crowd, which meant they knew many of those spectating that day were the families and close peers of the families of Rosinmoor. Others still were notable figures of Rosafearn: merchants, artisans, performers, anyone from any walk of life who bore an invitation to the ceremony and the ball hosted immediately afterward.

For the rest of Kintyre, the tour would begin on the morrow. Senga, Catriona, and Senga’s personal guard would begin the rounds to major cities in the region, introducing the Luxe Canonach to the people that one day she would be charged with defending.

Catriona, ever the introvert, was stiff with nerves as Senga led her through the crowd that parted around them to let them pass - so much so that she was pretty sure she had blacked out for a second. One moment, they were just inside the doorway, facing down swirls of color in every shade worn by the guests, and the next...the next she stood before the throne at the complete opposite side of the hall.

Nor could they take comfort in the presence of familiar faces, not when every member of the Canonach family was here today, none the wiser to what terms held her here and how quickly she’d run if she saw a way out. Briefly, she caught a glimpse of Sachairi, who gave her an encouraging smile she couldn’t match as Senga gestured for her to sit.

Her mother, as Baroness, could not take the oath directly - it had been the same since Balmoral, who had not taken Aoife’s oath upon her own proclamation. Rather, the oath had been taken by Cliamon themself, in an attempt to display that Aoife took the oath of her own free will by not having to face her predecessor and her father in the same fell swoop.

Catriona was grateful that she would not face Senga, at least, but somehow seeing Avery Maollosa step forward when Senga asked who would name her was worse.

Avery looked every part the Baronet they were - wild curls braided back, the sleek black doublet and vest paired with the crimson tartan of the Maollosas, the carefully polished silver buttons and sword-shaped kilt pin...and the crown, forged by Avery themself from iron and the raw quartz mined from Ardaleith out of the crown of their father.

A table with a long, hinge-top cedar box had been set up off to the side, watched over by Myrna until Avery approached and gave her grandmother a polite nod and a smile. Myrna returned the expression before she turned, gently lifting the lid of the box and reaching in with both hands to neatly lift the sword inside from where it rested in silken

For a moment, Catriona forgot the situation she was in, tilting her head back and craning to get a good look before Myrna turned and laid the sword delicately in Avery’s outstretched hands - grip snug in their left and blade laid flat against their right palm.

Catriona had only seen Òran na H-ealachan, the Swan Song, once before in their lifetime, but it was as if they knew it like the back of their hand.

The two-handed Highland claymore that had once belonged to Cliamon the Great had been carefully maintained over the centuries, now falling under the stewardship of one Myrna Canonach to be safeguarded and maintained when it was not being used for ceremony. It had been this way since each of the Seven had sworn an oath upon their own weapons to defend not only the land, but the people who lived within it, until their dying days - and Aoife Leamhnach had done just the same on her sixteenth year when she became the Lady of Braemuir.

Senga had made her own oath to the Barony of Kintyre the last time Catriona had seen the sword, and now, they would make their own.

With the sword laid across their hands, Avery turned and took the few steps to approach the dais, each step louder as the crowd watched with bated breath.

Eyes fixed on hers, they lowered themself to one knee, hands uplifted and open for Catriona to take the blade for themself.

“Catriona Canonach.” Avery began, and any lingering chatter in the room swept into silence, the only other sound the rain against the glass. “You come before the people of Kintyre to make an oath, swearing fealty to the Seven Seats and all within the boundaries of Rosinmoor. Do you make this oath of your own free will, with true understanding of the title it will bring you?”

Even though their expression was carefully schooled, Catriona could see in Avery’s eyes the unspoken question.

Do you really want this?

Her eyes flickered toward her mother, whose brows lowered ever so slightly as the pause became slightly more pronounced. Catriona swallowed down their nerves and straightened their shoulders, looking only at Avery, and hoped that they could mask their true thoughts well enough.

No.

“I do.” She said, voice lifting to be heard over the winds that blew the rain in sheets.

Avery nodded and raised the blade, offering it to Catriona from their place before her with both hands open. Catriona would take a breath, then lean forward, carefully wrapping one hand around the leather grip and slipping the other under the flat of the blade so as to not cut herself or Avery when she lifted it into her lap. As she settled with the weight of the blade, she caught a reflection of her own eyes, blue against the carefully polished steel.

“In your hands you bear Òran na H-ealachan, a symbol of the legacy established by Cliamon, first Baronet of Kintyre. I ask of you, as heir to this legacy, will you solemnly promise and swear to lead the people of Kintyre according to its laws and customs? Will you aid the remaining six seats, whoever they may be upon your ascension to the throne, in guiding the nation forward for those who will follow you?

Catriona, whose palms had begun to sweat, could not wipe them on her dress for fear of dropping the sword on the floor in front of hundreds of intently staring eyes. Rather she tightened her grip on the hilt and tried cupping her fingers along the edge, all without cutting her fingers in the process.

Perhaps it was all in her head, but the steel felt like ice - like dipping your hands into the Frozen Sea in the dead of winter.

“I solemnly promise.”

“Will you hold yourself to the same principles of law, justice, and mercy that are upheld by the people of Rosinmoor, in all course of action this oath may bring you?”

Avery held her gaze intently as she nodded slowly, as if searching for something more the longer they looked.

“I will.”

“To the utmost extent of your power and ability, do you swear to act in collaboration and diplomacy to defend the liberties of your people? Do you swear to act in defense of the people’s faith, traditions, and livelihoods wherever you are capable? To act in the best interests of Kintyre and those within, and to spend your life in her service?”

In the crowd beyond Avery’s shoulder, Catriona could see her mother’s approving look - could see Avery’s wife, Rima, with Edrine’s arms looped around her shoulders as he stood behind her. She could pick out other semi-familiar faces from other clans, like the smiling face of Ewan Griogal, who had been crowned heir to Glenarden mere months before. They could see Myrna in their peripherals, forever in black, waiting to receive the sword again and still unaware of the bargain Catriona has struck to keep her safe.

But she had to wonder - was it really in the best interest of Kintyre to name someone heir who didn’t want it at all?

Though they supposed it didn’t matter. Perhaps in time she’d come to enjoy it, though her relationship with her mother would certainly never be the same no matter how much time had passed.

“To my last day.” She answered, and Avery nodded, their face neutral as they lifted themself from their position and extended a hand for her to take. Catriona would accept, shifting to balance the tip of the blade on their soft shoe rather than the hard stone as Avery pulled her to her feet.

“Then rise, and face Kintyre as Luxe Catriona Canonach, descendant of Cliamon and heir to the Seven Seats of Rosinmoor.” Avery gave them a small smile then, all other words nearly drowned out by the roar that greeted her once she was fully upright. “May your life be long and full of love and joy, Catriona.”

Myrna would step forward to gently take the blade from Catriona’s hands again - not before she placed the customary kiss to its smooth pommel before a chanting crowd, a gesture meant to invoke good luck to the one who took the oath. Avery stepped back to give Senga room to step forward, glancing back only briefly before rejoining their family as the Baroness gave the word for the festivities to begin.

Only five minutes, and in that short time, it felt like she’d signed her life away. Sixteen years of wishing and hoping for something to change, for their life to be different, and in moments it all had become meaningless.

In a perfect world, they could abdicate anytime they wanted. A new heir could be chosen and titled, and the cycle would begin anew. But there would be no heir to follow, not while Catriona felt she had to protect Myrna, and certainly not while Senga Canonach held the title of Baroness.

And in this room, full of hundreds all there to celebrate her newfound position, the cracks in Catriona’s heart widened into chasms that threatened swallow her whole.

* * * * *

Contrary to their introverted nature, Catriona actually enjoyed parties on most occasions. They were thrilled to take part in the Hogmanay festivities and birthdays and the like, but they quickly found they did not like being the focus of the party itself on this particular day.

Their sheltered upbringing had meant that while they had met several of the major players in the political sphere of Rosinmoor, it had been only briefly - and it made them a point of intrigue for most of them in return.

Over the sounds of the small band hired to play for the day, Catriona had been constantly at her mother’s side, rubbing elbows and forcing smiles without reprieve. On the occasion she tried to slip away to visit with Edrine or Sachairi or any of her other relatives, Senga would set a hand on her shoulder, a silent demand to stay right where she was, and Catriona would oblige even as she fought the urge to smack her hand away.

It would only be when Senga found herself entrenched in conversation with the Baron of Melinlaesh - Callum Urchardan - about a possible trade agreement for several Melinlaeshi horses that Catriona could finally politely excuse themself, making a beeline straight for one of the tables of confections rather than continue the charade.

After a moment, she picked up a crystal stemmed glass, eagerly eyeing the raspberry cranachan layered within and contentedly making her way to the edge of the room to eat it in relative peace.

The refuge was necessary. She couldn’t leave the hall, not without royally pissing off her mother, but every interaction brought her closer to wanting to scream.

Every single one of the people she’d met had been eager to ask her about her studies, what areas of the Rosen political sphere intrigued her, asked how she felt about this or that relating to the title until she thought she was going to go mad. Her entire education as an heir had just been a regurgitation of Senga’s own plans and beliefs, as she wasn't oblivious to the expectation that she uphold her mother’s legacy even when she was no longer Baroness.

There was a point where Catriona had actually enjoyed the conversation - in meeting the Lady Consort of Glasinshiel, Maisie Ainsworth, she had mentioned raising a litter of pups as herders for the region’s abundance of livestock - but Senga had steered the conversation back once again to politics, leaving Catriona to nod blankly in agreement whenever Senga looked to her expectantly.

Pity Senga was only thirty-five. At least as Baronet, Catriona might have had a chance at some form of freedom, but that wouldn’t be for a long time yet. Her future was so indefinite, so unclear...and yet she’d placed it in someone else’s hands so easily.

Well, that made her cranachan taste rather sour.

As discreetly as she could, she spit her mouthful of trifle back into her glass, setting it carefully on the windowsill and wiping the corner of her mouth with her thumb as she hoped nobody had seen.

“Not a fan?”

Catriona jumped, head snapping toward Avery, who merely raised both hands in a gesture of surrender.

“I come in peace.” They teased gently, and Catriona smiled a little before they relaxed. “Thought I’d join you as a wallflower, if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. People are...quite overwhelming, honestly. I didn’t expect so many to be here.”

Avery chuckled at that, reaching up to pull off their crown and holding it loosely in hand as they folded their arms across their chest.

“There might have been more, if the rain hadn’t kept the crowds away. You missed Ewan’s proclamation, but people were crowding at the windows just to try and catch a glimpse once the hall was packed to capacity.”

“That sounds nightmarish.” Catriona sighed, wrapping her arms loosely around herself.

“It only gets worse from here. Thousands of people will meet you when your tour begins, all eager to put a face to the name that’s been drifting around the social circles of Kintyre for years. You’ll be at most social events, special occasions, ceremonies…”

“Are you trying to make me more anxious than I am, Avery?”

“I’m trying to be realistic, but that brings me to one of the main reasons I wanted to speak with you in what little privacy we could get.” Avery turned then, one shoulder pressed to the wood paneling on the wall as their expression turned serious. “What changed, Catty?”

Catriona’s breath caught in her throat for a moment before she managed to swallow it down, forcing that same, pretty smile she’d been forcing all night back onto her face.

“What do you mean?”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Avery sighed and gave her a knowing look. “Once upon a time, this was the worst thing you could have imagined. I know five years is five years, but...not when you were so adamantly against it.”

“Perhaps I just came to realize how fortunate I am to have such a life and such opportunities. It’s a privilege I shouldn’t neglect.”

A regurgitated answer, one schooled into them by their mother, for fear that deviation from the script would reveal to Senga’s peers the farce Catriona found herself in. And, well, one that Avery saw through as if the lie were made of the same gossamer overlay to her dress.

“That’s a load of shit and you know it.” Avery’s face didn’t change, save for the slight creasing of their brows as Catriona gave them an incredulous look. “I can see it in your eyes, the same way I have since your mother’s coronation - that sad, heavy weight of understanding what weight fell on your shoulders and wanting none of it.”

Catriona couldn’t help the wry smile that spread across her face, and she kicked loosely at the floor, scuffing the white toe of her shoe.

“It’s not about me anymore.” She whispered, quiet enough to force Avery to lean in to hear her. “I appreciate your concern, but I am fine.”

Avery stared at them for a long moment, eyes searching for something Catriona couldn’t name - but feeling still that they were looking straight into her heart.

“Your mother is young and healthy, meaning she has the potential to be Baroness easily into her sixties or seventies, if she follows the same patterns as her predecessors. Sorcha, who didn’t step down until she was seventy-five, and Malvina, who stepped down at sixty-four, and she considered herself frail. That’s at least another twenty-nine years, possibly up to forty, or even longer than that.”

Catriona swallowed lightly, squeezing the sides of her arms as she looked up at them.

“What are you getting at, Avery?”

“Is whatever changed your mind worth the possibility of living your whole life like this? This life can be exhausting on the mind, body, and spirit, and you are starting leagues behind us all who took their oaths willingly. The dam on your misery will break one day, and it will drown you before you figure out a way to piece yourself back together.”

Her eyes burned, and Catriona quickly looked away, drawing in a sharp breath to try and pull herself together.

“Thank you for your concern, Baronet Maollosa.” She said, a little more forcefully than she meant, and dropped into a quick curtsy. “I’m going to step out for some air, would you be so kind as to let anyone who’s looking for me know? I’m feeling a bit hot.”

She didn’t wait for Avery to answer before she turned on her heel, heading for the veranda and forcing the same pretty smile whenever she got stopped - paired with a “excuse me, I’ll be back in just a moment” as she kept moving as fast as she could for the doors before she crumbled completely.

Avery had been right.

For months, she had pushed the feelings down, drowning out her rational mind screaming as she allowed herself to be pulled further into this life she didn’t want. She knew that in the deal she made with her mother she had condemned her lifetime to that of one dictated eternally by Senga, every move watched, every word controlled, to exist as little more than a porcelain doll on display.

She shoved past the heavy oak door, the thunder a thousand times louder and the wind ripping at that pretty white gown and her perfectly curled hair. Had she not been so numb in that moment, she might have realized that the rain was blowing nearly parallel to the ground, and the temperature was so icy it felt like needles pricking her skin with every gale.

She was selfish. She was weak, and she knew she ran the risk of losing everything, of disappointing her entire family - now her country, to have made the oath and now wish they could turn back the clock and run from the room the second Avery had stepped forward.

But...she would lose herself, too, if she stayed.

A few short steps beyond the safety of the veranda’s roof would have Catriona soaked to the bone, hair plastered to her cheeks and shoulders and her delicate shoes sinking enough in the mud for her to abandon them completely before she even realized that she was running. Anywhere, even in this, would have been better

Faintly, she heard the door’s hinges behind her, groaning under the weight of the oak as someone stepped out onto the veranda. She nearly shit herself thinking it might be Senga, and she pulled at the stupidly heavy skirts, trying to lift them out of her way so she might cover more ground.

“Catty?” She heard Edrine call out, voice nearly drowned out by the wind. “Catriona, what the hell are you doing?”

For a moment, they considered turning to face them, but...if Avery could see into her heart, Edrine would be able to peer right through her soul, and there would be no stopping what came pouring out then. And if Edrine knew, then Avery would know, and when mother inevitably found out that she’d broken her end of the deal to keep this to herself…

She wasn’t prepared for that fury to come down on her.

Catriona bolted out into the gardens, weaving through the carefully manicured hedges and colorful flower beds in an attempt to get as far from view of the castle as possible before she figured out how to go forward. Going back wouldn’t be an option - not with her looking like a drowned rat, even if she wanted to be there - but part of her hoped that if she got away, her mother couldn’t use her as leverage against Myrna ever again.

As she ran past the gazebo, the very same in which Senga had taken her coronation oath, she realized she could hear a second set of footsteps behind them, just barely audible over all the other sounds her ears were contending with.

Edrine had followed them into the storm. And, given the staggering difference in both height and athleticism between them, they were gaining on her quickly.

Catriona at least knew the gardens well after all this time stuck at the estate.

She took a sharp turn suddenly - planning to lose them in the hedge maze near the back of the gardens - but instead she slipped barefoot on the stone path, yelping as she tumbled down and crashed onto her hands and knees. She tried to scramble upright again, but that had been all Edrine needed to catch up, kneeling beside her and asking if she was alright when she shoved them away as best she could.

Edrine, however, barely moved, the brick wall that they were becoming, and reached to grab Catriona’s wrists to keep them from running again as they tried to get a good look at her bleeding palms.

“Stop it, damn it, you’re going to get yourself more hurt than you already are! What were you thinking, running out into this?”

The sob that wrenched out of Catriona’s chest in answer was unbidden, and it made Edrine freeze where they were, hands wrapped around her wrists and eyes wide in surprise as they looked her in the eye.

“Don’t make me go back!” Catriona wailed, body sagging like the strings on a marionette had been cut. “I can’t...I can’t go back, Edie, please, please don’t make me. I can’t do this anymore…”

It was a miracle they understood anything through the strangled hiccuping sounds she was making, but Edrine nodded slowly, releasing her wrists to let her wipe some of her tears away.

“...okay. Okay, we won’t go back to the hall. But I need to take you back to the gazebo so I can at least clean up your hands and take a look at your knees without getting pissed on by the sky.” Edrine cracked a small smile at that, but Catriona did not return it, only nodding slowly as she unstuck some of her hair from her face. “I’m going to pick you up, is that alright?”

When Catriona nodded again, Edrine slipped an arm under her knees and around her back, quickly lifting her up to carry her as quickly as they could to the gazebo without sending them both to the ground again. As soon as they were under cover, Edrine would carefully set her down, wordlessly extending their hands to take her own again and take a better look at them.

For a long while, they were silent, Edrine focused intensely on dabbing at her wounds with the semi-dry handkerchief that had been tucked into their blazer - her knees had, thankfully, been saved by the cushion of stupidly puffy petticoats - while Catriona looked anywhere but their face, her cheeks hot with both tears and embarrassment at the stupidity of the situation.

“Are you going to tell me what’s going on, or do I have to play a guessing game?” Edrine said eventually, breaking the silence as they set the kerchief aside. “Last I saw, you were talking to Ava, and everything seemed alright.”

“We’re good at pretending, apparently.” Catriona sighed, closing her eyes as they felt Edrine shift to sit beside her. “If I...if I tell you Edrine, I’ll get in so much trouble…”

“You know, you’re whip smart, so considering I just witnessed you do the stupidest thing I’ve ever seen, you’re not getting off the hook that easily.” She felt them nudge her with their elbow, and she turned to look at them, watery blue meeting the soulful dark of Edrine’s. “Let the rain wash it away, Catriona. There’s not a chance in all the world anyone else will hear you out here. Whatever you tell me, it stays between us, I swear that to you.”

Slowly, Catriona nodded, turning her head up to look at the wood paneling shielding their heads from the storm beyond.

“Do you remember a few years ago, how we had Hogmanay with Myrna down in her little cottage?”

It all came pouring out - once the first words left her, there was no stopping her, beginning all the way back at that first departure from Rosinmoor right after the holiday had ended. The reason why she left home, her mother’s threats against Myrna, the promise she’d made to keep her grandmother safe, the agreement to come back and take the oath to keep Senga happy in return, even what Avery had said that had made them finally break under it all

To Edrine’s credit, they kept their composure until the very end,

“Fucking hell.” Edrine muttered, and Catriona couldn’t help but laugh even as Edrine apologized, simply laying her head against their shoulder and letting out a long breath.

“That feels like an ample way to describe all of it.” Edrine huffed a small laugh as she continued, temple pressed to the crown of her head. “But...my stupid plan was to just run away. I figure if I’m gone, Mother can’t use me to hurt Granny anymore. I didn’t think about the rain, I just thought if maybe I could get away from everything else here…”

“Where would you go?”

“I said it was a stupid plan, Edie, not a full blown strategy. My running away attire unfortunately does not include a ballgown.” She said, tone dry. “I didn’t really get that far.”

“Would have been in character with all those fantasy novels you read.” Edrine teased, ruffling her hair playfully even as she groaned and tried to squeeze some of the water out of it. “But...I don’t actually think running is a terrible idea.”

“Sorry, what? I think my eardrums are full of water.” She made a dramatic tapping gesture against her temple with the heel of her hand, as if to knock water loose. “Say that again?”

Edrine only shook their head, wrapping their arms around their knees and lacing their fingers together. “No, I mean it. You’ve been talking about Myrna through all of this, and how you can’t be the reason she gets hurt, but...you’re not, Catty. If anyone hurts her, it’ll be your mother. But have you even spoken to Myrna about this, seen what she has to say?”

“No, I...I didn’t want to put her in the middle of this.”

“Well, sucks to suck, but she’s in it whether you like it or not. Senga used her because she knew it would hurt you, and it worked. And granted I’m not around your grandmother as much as you are, but the woman I know would kill for you before she let anyone else hurt you. So I think you should run, but I think you should go with her like you did before, because you shouldn’t have to do it alone.”

“And what about the rest of her family?” Catriona whispered. “That’s her blood...everyone is here.”

“Blood doesn’t mean anything, in my opinion. Your family is made up of the people you choose, and who choose you in return. They love you without terms or conditions, without expectations - completely and utterly unconditionally. And if the rest of them don’t understand why she’d take you and go, then they weren’t family at all.”

“What if you’re wrong, Edie? What if she won’t go and I’m left alone?”

There were a few beats of pause between them both, punctuated by a clap of thunder, before Edrine broke the silence once again.

“Do you know what a threefold death is?”

Catriona nodded, swiping away the new tears that had formed before they could fall. “Yeah, they’re a type of oath. The idea is that if you break your oath, whatever it may be, you die in three ways simultaneously - which I am very glad my proclamation was not one.”

With a snort of laughter, Edrine shifted, kneeling in front of her and taking both their

“Smartass. Thought I maybe knew something you didn’t for once.”

“Keep trying, blockhead.”

They shared a small smile before Edrine squeezed her hands, drawing her gaze down to look at their joined hands before she met their eyes again.

“I ask because I intend to make you one, Catriona. Should it all go to shit and you find yourself alone, I swear to you that you will always have a place in Ardaleith. I vow to defend you in all ways, to be your sword and your shield to call on, even if you have no name or title to call your own. If I break my oath, then may the land open to swallow me, the sea rise up to drown me, and the sky fall upon me to right the wrong I have done you.”

Catriona watched with wide eyes as they lifted her hands, pressing a kiss to the back of each

“Why would you…?” She began, and Edrine scoffed, setting her hands back in her lap and sitting cross-legged on the wooden platform.

“Because, stupid, you’re my family. And while I can’t go with you, I want you to know you will never not have a home in Rosinmoor - no matter what happens in the future. I also think the idea of nature itself trying to kill me is pretty terrifying, so you know I’m good for it.”

She stared with wide eyes before she let out a small laugh and shook her head, swatting lightly at Edrine’s knee.

“You really want me to go, huh?”

“If I’m honest, no, because I’ll miss you. But I want you to be happy, and that matters to me more than anything else. Sachairi, too, if he were out here to say it himself.”

Edrine stood up then, offering a hand to help her to her feet as they looked around the gardens beyond the railings of the gazebo.

“Come on, Catty. The rain is slowing down a little bit. Let’s go find Myrna.”

Catriona looked at that hand for a long, long moment, briefly thinking back to earlier that afternoon on the stairs - when she stood at the top of the stairs and looked at Senga’s hand and thought back to the time where the worst thing in the world had been to take someone’s hand for help forced upon you.

There were no expectations now. Only a genuine love, of someone more like a sibling than a friend, who offered help in her time of need.

After another moment’s pause, she allowed herself to take that outstretched hand, feeling a little lighter as she and Edrine raced through the rain to find another entrance back inside without running through the great hall itself.

* * * * *

Thankfully, Edrine’s oath had not needed testing so quickly. When they made their way inside, Myrna had found them both easily - fussing over their sopping wet clothes and how they were ‘going to catch their deaths’ if they didn’t come up and dry off. She pulled them both into her own quarters, finding the fluffiest of towels and setting them up by the fire so they could fight the tremors that racked both of them.

It would be then that Catriona swallowed her fear and asked Myrna, ever so softly, if she could tell her something important.

Edrine had stayed the whole time, a comforting presence to Catriona as she recounted it all again - their hand gently rubbing her back when the tears started anew and she found it harder to get the words out.

To say Myrna wept with her would have been an understatement. Her tears, much like Catriona’s own, had become a blend of rage and despair that rivaled the monsoon as she began packing her things right then and there. She’d asked Edrine to help Catriona do the same, asserting that they’d get as far from Kintyre as they could tonight before taking a ship further north.

The storms would be too rough for them to depart tonight, but Catriona only heard ‘leaving Kintyre’ to crumble all over again, realizing that Myrna didn’t hate her after all.

Edrine had helped her pack the important things before leaving her alone in her room with a parting kiss to her cheek, promising they’d cover for her long enough to keep Senga from searching for them right away once she pulled herself out of the attention she’d been basking in. Catriona swore up and down she’d write to both Edrine and Sachairi as soon as she and Myrna stopped somewhere, though Edrine told her not to worry - that they’d take care of Sachairi, and to be safe above everything else.

Their departure was swift and silent once she’d packed and changed, taking two horses rather than the Canonach carriage to avoid attention, continuing that way even after Catriona glanced back over her shoulder and could no longer see the lights of Castle Kintyre in the distance.

She wasn’t sure either of them spoke again until they’d settled onto a ship at the crack of dawn the next morning, the skies clear and painted gold with the early morning light. But she knew it wasn’t because Myrna did not want to talk, nor was she angry with her - she was simply waiting for her grandchild to let her know she was ready.

Myrna’s cane heralded her presence as always, tapping against the deck as she came to join Catriona at the railing to watch the sunrise.

“Granny?” She asked, smiling a little as Myrna jumped in surprise, but seemed to recover quickly as she rested her elbows against the wood.

“Yes, a bhobain?”

“How long will we be gone?”

Myrna hummed in thought, then shrugged, watching Catriona out of the corner of her eye. “I should think however long you want to be gone. My place is with you, after all, and I don’t plan to stray from it.”

When she fell silent again, Myrna took advantage of the opportunity, knowing that she would still be listening.

“Catriona, I want to tell you something, I want you to listen to me well.” Myrna waited for Catriona to nod in acknowledgement, the latter turning to look her in the eye. “I could never be angry with you for wanting to choose what life you have for yourself. I have had my time, and you should never feel like you need to sacrifice for me.”

“But Astor and Balfour -” She started, but Myrna raised a hand, gently and effectively cutting her off.

“I don’t need to visit their graves to remember them, sweetheart, though I appreciate you knowing how much they mean to me. But I carry them with me, always, and I remember them every day - it’s just nice to have a place to visit when I feel up for it. The fact of the matter is that I don’t need the place so much as I want for you to be happy, and there is nothing I would not give to make sure that you have every opportunity to achieve that for yourself.” Myrna sniffed a little, but stubbornly swiped a hand across her cheek, setting it on her hip once she flicked the tears away. “Do I make myself clear? No more secrets. You tell me everything from now on, or I’ll…”

Myrna floundered, waving her cane a little, and Catriona couldn’t help but smile - Myrna didn’t have a threatening bone in her.

Rather than answer, she stepped forward, wrapping Myrna up in the tightest hug she could manage and burying her face in her shoulder as she felt Myrna squeeze her right back.

“I promise.” Catriona murmured, and Myrna hummed her acknowledgment, but neither of them let go of the other. Nor would they until the ship began to move out of the harbor of Briar Glen, when Catriona broke the long silence to draw Myrna’s attention again.

“Granny, can I ask you for an odd favor?”

Myrna nodded, leaning back to look her in the eye and gesturing for her to continue.

“I...don’t want to be called Catriona anymore. It makes me think of Mother. And maybe it’s stupid, but Catriona is who she wanted me to be, not who I wanted to be. So I want to pick a new name, and I want to be just myself for myself, and nobody else. I hope that doesn’t offend you, though.”

Her grandmother snorted, giving her a playful look and nudging her lightly. “What, because my full name is Myrna Catriona? Please, darling, I don’t even use that part of my name for myself. Never have. But do you have a name in mind that you’d rather I use, or do you want to try a few and see what sticks?”

She hummed a moment, lacing and unlacing her fingers as she listened to the sounds of the wind catching in the sails.

“My full name is Catriona Astoria Elspeth Canonach-Fenharrow, though it’s always been shortened.” She mused. “I like parts of it still, so I don’t want to just get rid of it, either. Can’t I be just Astoria Fenharrow, like I was Catriona Canonach?”

Myrna smiled warmly, giving her a squeeze as the wind began to pull at their hair and the harbor began to grow smaller behind them.

“There’s nothing stopping you from giving it a go, Astoria.” She said, making the teen in question smile broadly at the sound of the name from someone other than themself. “But I do think it suits you well.”

#astoria fenharrow #idk where all these thoughts came from lmao #oops

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specterchasing-a · 3 years ago

Text

Down, boy! || Eddie & Bea

TIMING: Current-ish

PARTIES: @beatrice-blaze & @specterchasing

LOCATION: Illusions of Grandeur

SUMMARY: Eddie literally runs from his problems and Bea talks some sense into him.

CONTENT WARNINGS: Suicidal ideations tw, sibling death tw.

The shops and faces lining ‘Freak Alley’ flew by in colorful blurs as Eddie’s feet slapped against the sidewalk. An over-the-shoulder glance let him know that the hellhound he attracted at a nearby cemetery was gaining on him. Its size led him to believe he’d somehow lucked out and stumbled upon a runt, or perhaps a pup if hellhounds underwent adolescence. Eddie didn’t know and, in the moment, he frankly didn’t care; it could clearly still breathe fire.

Wicked heat kissed the soles of his shoes and Eddie’s next step became more of a leap. “Oh, fuck. Oh, fuck, oh, fuck, oh, fuck,” he chanted as he darted across the street. Panic set it, but it wasn’t the sole cause of Eddie’s heart beating at break-kneck speed. A laugh erupted from his chest. He liked the threat of imminent danger. No thrill on earth matched the anxious euphoria of knowing his next breath might be his last. A hellhound would make for an interesting obituary, at least, even if the local paper reduced it to an errant wolf.

Eddie skidded to a halt in front of a building, he didn’t bother to stop and read any signage that might tell him the name of his safe haven. His hand gripped the door and flung it open. Once inside, he pressed his back against the entrance to hopefully stop the hellhound from entering with force. Unfortunately, the dimwitted beast didn’t get the memo that it wasn’t welcome and launched its body against the door with considerable vigor once, twice…

Members of the crowd turned their heads toward the commotion. Apparently, Eddie was interrupting some kind of show. His eyes snapped to the stage, landing on an unexpectedly familiar face. “Nell’s sister? I thought she was in—”

Three times.

Eddie’s thoughts were interrupted when the impact of the hellhound's small, but dense, body threw the door open. The force sent him forward and into the crowd, albeit face-down on the floor. Eddie scrambled to his feet as a few of the crowd members shrieked at the sudden introduction of a wild beast. Chaos ensued as people scattered in search of an emergency exit. Eddie whipped around in time to see flames billowing from the dog’s mouth. A few seats, recently abandoned, caught fire.

In an attempt to rectify his mistake, Eddie bolted in the direction of a fire extinguisher. A moment later, the sprinkler system kicked on, drenching everyone in sight. Eddie marched closer to the hellhound and attacked it with a stream of white froth. “Fuck off!” he commanded as the beast caught a mouthful of foul chemicals. It reared back, whining as its head thrashed from side to side. But Eddie’s bright idea didn’t deter it for long. The hound stumbled forward and prepared for another attack.

Freedom was a nasty concept to Beatrice. As a child, picking flowers and stealing moments with Leah was freedom. Teenaged Bea had found parties she snuck out to were freedom. Before she died, freedom had been her secrets, she had held freedom in clenched hands, hidden from her coven and family. Now, she had died and come back, her secrets revealed and discovered. Her freedom was not her secrets any longer, so what was it?

She had thought the stage was freedom until death and rebirth. It became a cage, a spectacle that could be used to see how different she had become. Deciding to reclaim it, to allow everyone to see who she was now, that tasted like an early summer morning. It had the stillness before a busy day, it had a moment of peace in it. It tasted like the beginnings of freedom, a taste she had begun to remember and enjoy in New York.

It did not taste like smoke, a flavor that had snuck into her mouth as she performed. Smoke had no place in her show now, not now that she couldn’t control the flames. Her element was no longer fire and smoke was no longer a flavor she could feel safe tasting. She was off the stage and stalking forward to the Hellhound as people rushed out of the theater.

She recognized the man in front of the hellhound vaguely, though she had no idea how. He was trying to smother the beast with a fire extinguisher and Bea couldn’t help but roll her eyes. Of course this is how her first performance since Adam would be.

Her shadows leapt out, tightening around the beast mouth, clamping it shut as others worked around it’s paws. “What the hell were you thinking bringing this into my business?” She’d have to call Nell to help her with this.

Eddie watched in startled wonderment as shadows turned themselves into shackles around the hellhound’s paws. A muzzle of the same making wrapped around its jaws while it struggled against its newfound restraints. Smoke seeped out of the muzzle, but the fire was contained for the time being. Magic, he figured. Not cheap illusions, but actual magic.

He jumped at the sound of Beatrice’s voice demanding his attention. Eddie already felt guilty before she spoke, now the feeling consumed him. He turned to face her with an apologetic expression. As far as he could tell, they were the only two people remaining inside the venue. No one would be around to see him be reprimanded, at least.

“It chased me,” Eddie explained with a helpless shrug. “What was I supposed to do, die in the street?” For someone who wanted to say he was sorry, the words didn’t come to him. He hated that about himself, the way he instinctively took a defensive stance when he felt cornered.

The crashing realization that Nell might still be too ill to handle this hit Bea hard and fast. It was like a softball to the stomach as she remembered how grief could hurt a person’s magic, Nell could struggle to control this Hellhound and who was Bea to ask her sister to try to after everything happened? She would have to attempt to deal with herself and if it was too much, then she would call Nell.

The face of an apology with defense on their lips was something Bea was intimately familiar with. She had been that way, she occasionally was still that way, and while the familiarity softened her, a scowl had already found its way onto her face. “That is not at all what I said or implied.” Her arm swung out behind her, “This is the place you decided to run in. Did you see how many people were in here? What would the plan have been if I wasn’t here? Let the people here burn and hope for the best?” She didn’t know this man, but that didn’t stop her scolding tone. “How did you even get chased by a Hellhound?”

With each question Bea asked him, Eddie’s guilt worsened. He never meant to hurt anyone, but he seemed to be paving the road to hell with his good intentions as of late. Regardless of what he did, it usually turned out to be a wrong move. For the moment, he elected to put his pity party on the back-burner. Bea didn’t know him and she likely wouldn’t harbor much sympathy for a grown man who nearly cost dozens of innocent people their lives. For that, he couldn’t blame her.

“I was, uh, at the cemetery down the road apiece,” he answered her most recent question, pointing his thumb in the direction he came from. “It was just kinda hanging out and didn’t like that I was too.” Eddie failed to mention that he tried to film it, and that he whistled for its attention in an attempt to get a clear shot of its face. The camera he used wound up as a substitute chew toy after it slipped out of his hand mid-sprint.

“I tried to hold the doors shut,” he ventured. “If you weren’t here, I—” Eddie’s gaze fell to the fire extinguisher in his hand. What a joke. “Yeah, I probably would’ve been the reason someone died tonight.” He chewed on the inside of his cheek as he looked at Bea again. “Thanks for not letting that happen.”

A noise of frustration left Bea’s nose as she turned back to the Hellhound in front of her. Nell had a soft spot for them, it would be wrong if she just called Kaden here to kill it. It was a monster that could kill people, but her littlest sister liked them. It would hurt her to know Bea killed it without an attempt at some humane solution. She wasn’t particularly sure how to be humane to a monster, but she would figure it out.

“Are you new to this whole thing?” Bea asked tiredly. He had to be around Adam’s age, but he had none of the experience that had let Adam survive as long as he did from what she could see. Not that had done much in the end, had it? He was still gone. “Sometimes when you see something like this the best thing to do is give it space or call someone who is trained to take care of things like this.” The hunters she trusted in this town were struggling to survive or gone.

Bea leaned against the back of the seats nearest her, her exhaustion hitting her all at once. “There won’t always be someone like me there. What will you do then?” How will you survive?

Bea seemed to be at the end of her rope, and a sneaking suspicion told Eddie he wasn’t the sole cause of her weariness. He thought about Nell and the contagiousness of grief. All at once, he became less concerned with self-pity. Compared to the Vurals, he had it easy. Eddie wished he could share that with them instead of dragging Bea down with his inability to make good decisions. He kept saying he would start being better for the people around him, when did he plan on actually doing it?

“No, I’m not new to this,” he answered truthfully. Whatever he said to Bea had a chance to get back to Nell. Eddie couldn’t afford to lie to her even if the lie was easier to hear than the truth. “Tonight just sucked.”

He considered her next question carefully. “I used to know.” Again, Eddie chose honesty. Until recently, he didn’t care what happened to him in situations like what happened tonight. Live or die, it didn’t matter. Part of him, and it was a big part, still felt that way, but now people cared about him. That made things murkier. “I guess I’d die if that happened.” Despite his inner turmoil, he sounded shockingly nonchalant. “I’m trying not to be okay with that.”

For a moment, Bea almost laughed. Waves of optimism had carried her afloat that last few days, but now she felt the current shifting beneath her feet. There were only so many times she would claim that things would get better. She was exhausting herself carrying everyone else’s hope on her back, but she had tried it the other way before. She had seen what it made her and she refused to go back to that.

“You should know that you shouldn’t be doing stuff in this town alone, then.” Adam should have known, they should have forced him to take someone. Bea shook her head, trying to lose the ‘what if’ questions that did nothing but worsen her guilt.

Bea’s eyes snapped toward him, her exhaustion shoved away by the fire that entered her. She pushed herself away from the chairs, taking a step toward him. “Death doesn’t just affect you,” She whispered fervently. “When you die, you change something in everyone around you. They will never get back to who they were.”

Bea had a point, Eddie realized that. White Crest sunk its teeth into anyone who dared underestimate how brutal it could be. Anyone except him, it seemed. For all his recklessness, he couldn’t get the town to live up to its reputation. Death didn’t want him back. “Yeah,” he quietly replied as his gaze fell to the floor.

Nex thing he knew, Bea seemed more vibrant than before. As she moved closer, he couldn’t tell if that was a good thing. Eddie glanced at the hellhound’s shadow-made shackles before locking eyes with her. Bea’s warning shook him. The part about his death affecting more than just him sounded a lot like similar words of caution given to him by both Nell and Morgan. But the rest, no one had ever phrased it like that before.

“I don’t want to hurt anyone,” Eddie said firmly. “But I don’t wanna hurt either.” He knew how selfish he sounded. For years, he relied on that selfishness when no one else bothered to prioritize him. “And no one can seem to tell me how to manage both.”

“Everyone thinks I’m perfectly content not caring whether I live or die, and I guess I can’t blame them. I even put on a good enough act to fool myself sometimes, but it’s bullshit.” His throat tightened as the truth poured out of him. “I hate feeling this way. All it does is make me miserable and piss everyone else off, which is kind of exhausting.” Eddie let out a mirthless laugh. “I’m bleeding out and everyone around me is yelling about how I’m staining the carpet.” He choked back the tears trying to form in his eyes.

“No one can tell you, because you can’t.” Bea’s voice shook as she said it. There was no reason for her to lay things out for this man, yet here she was, because someone had to. “We hurt people, they hurt us, and we hurt ourselves.” She had been hurt by countless people, she had hurt countless people, and she had hurt herself. “It doesn’t make us bad people if we can learn from it.” She swallowed, “It makes us better if we learn how to forgive ourselves for the things we do.”

Bea closed her eyes for a moment, letting out a breath. That feeling he was talking about was something she understood well. “Sometimes people don’t know how to fix your bleeding, so they find something else to focus on. Blaming you isn’t fair, but it’s how they cope.” How many people have felt like this around here? How many people did she not see or help? “I think you might want to go to therapy, if you aren’t already,” She said with a shrug. “It can help. I go sometimes.” She went a lot in New York. She still went at least once a week, when the flashbacks were bad, she went twice.

Nothing Bea said relieved Eddie of the ache in his chest, but he appreciated that she said it anyway. He was beginning to learn that, try as he might, he would never find a mystical cure for the pain of living. But, if he listened, he might learn how to cope with it. He forgave others easily, but turning that kindness inwards proved more difficult. “Does that… get easier with practice?” he asked.

For the past ten years, Eddie had been going to therapy. When Bea offered it as a suggestion, he nodded solemnly. “Yeah, it makes things a little easier.” But he couldn’t be completely honest with any of the professionals he’d seen, not about seeing ghosts or anything else related to the supernatural. It felt like wearing a muzzle. When they asked about his YouTube channel, he told them it was purely for entertainment. They were always impressed by the special effects.

“Anyway,” he said, forcing himself to shift gears. “Didn’t mean to, like, trauma dump or whatever” He never did, but it was becoming harder to keep it to himself. “Is there… anything I can do to help out around here? With the mess, I mean.”

“Yeah, it does.” Bea wished there was a way to prepare people for the life that White Crest was leading them down, but there wasn’t. All you could do was tell people the truth and pick them back up when they fell. “It’s like any skill though, we all mess up eventually and you’re going to kick yourself for it. Sometimes things are going to happen and you won’t even be able to remember how to do it, but it’ll come back. It always does.”

There was a part of Bea who knew she shouldn’t be allowing herself to take someone else on, but here she was pulling someone else’s hope onto her back. Someone had to keep it safe and until they were able to, she would nurture it and treat it as though it was her own. Maybe this was her fatal flaw, the thing that would put her in the ground permanently, but until it proved as dangerous as it felt, she would flirt with it.

“Yep,” Bea grinned at him, nodding at the storage closet. “Go grab a broom. I’m going to call my sister to figure out what to do with this beastie and then I’m going to call my crew to help.” She went to walk away before pausing and looking over her shoulder, “Some days there will be too much to keep in, find people who can handle you at your worst and learn to help them too. Those people will always be with you, as long as you love them as much as they love you.”

#c: bea #wickedswriting #down boy!#suicide tw #sibling death tw #// FIONA IS A TREASURE AND I LOVE BEA WITH MY WHOLE HEART

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bisexualcrowley · 4 years ago

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Stole the Show Pt.3

Previous Chapter Next Chapter

Pairing: Dominic “Sonny” Carisi x Fem! Reader

Chapter summary: Y/n takes Sonny home for a drink after a successful rehearsal, and things get a little heated

Content/warnings: Smut/nsfw content, some fluff? Cursing, mentions of drinking

Word count: 1,709

A/n: Finally updating this series hjsksjs, definitely because I spent ages revising and not at all because I’m procrastinating an essay

"Hey, Carisi! Why dont’cha come to my place for a drink! I just crushed every frickin’ song we did tonight, I feel like that’s cause for celebration!” Y/n grinned at her friend as they walked along a back hallway in the theater, leading Sonny to God-knows where, a voice in the back of his head chiding himself for not memorizing the theatre’s whole layout.

“I’d be down for that! Got nothing better to do, anyways” The taller detective grinned, giving Y/n a playful clap on the shoulder. “You did real good in there, doll”

“Hell yeah I did! I’ll meet you in the lobby in five minutes, just gotta grab my stuff. Oh also! Congratulations, Cannoli Boy, you’ve been granted the honor of carrying my bag”

Y/n shot back with a playful wink before turning on her heel and disappearing into a dressing room, leaving a dumbfounded Sonny laughing in the hallway.

“Cannoli boy?” He mumbled to himself with a grin as he walked back up the hall towards the theatre’s exit. He was thrilled to see how confident Y/n had become again; it had been years since she had seemed so genuinely happy about work.

Luckily for Sonny, the previously packed lobby has begun to clear out, leaving only a few stragglers who seemed too excited to want to leave the theatre remaining. The detective chuckled at the scene as he leaned casually against a wall waiting for his partner, the childish glee of a nearby group of theatre nerds bringing him a feeling of comfort he hadn’t expected from such a scene.

The wait wasn’t long before Y/n emerged from the back hallway with her duffel bag swinging heavily on her arm and a smile painting her face. Sonny broke into a grin as she sauntered over to him, doing a shockingly bad job at concealing the pride she felt from the night’s performance.

In an oh-so-graceful way, Y/n shot her partner another wink before heavily shrugging the bag off her shoulder to land in his arms, Sonny catching it without a fumble.

“You’re a real charmer, y’know Y/n?” Sonny snickered as he tucked the bag under his arm, leading his partner out the door into the night. Had it been any other situation Y/n would have come up with some sly remark in response, but still riding the high from the night’s success she chose to just laugh it off, allowing her friend to call over a taxi for the two of them.

The ride passed quickly, Sonny repeatedly trying to hit a higher note in Mamma Mia and each time failing horrifically and sending even the driver into hysterics each time, and before they knew it, the pair had arrived at y/n’s apartment.

40 minutes and a half bottle of tequila later, y/n found herself sitting sideways on her chair and staring at her partner while he circled a finger over the rim of his empty glass. Was it what it's called, a chair? One person couch? Loveseat? She was tipsy enough for the word to be completely lost to her, the only thing worth focusing on in the moment was Carisi.

Sonny was lounging casually on what Y/n was sure actually was called a couch, his long legs slung up onto a coffee table as he rambled on about how fucking much he loved puppies.

Maybe it was the alcohol, maybe it was leftover adrenaline or maybe the alcohol was simply lessening her guilt towards being attracted to a coworker. Either way, for what felt like the millionth time since they had first met, Y/n found herself wondering how it would feel to have his lips crash desperately against her own, to have his perfect hands ghost over flushed skin, what it would be like to thread her fingers through his goddamn perfect hair

She felt a not-so-subtle twinge of arousal as her eyes met Sonny's again, his eyelids drooping lazily as he smiled towards his friend.

Fuck he had a gorgeous smile

“Want another?” Y/n questioned with a nod towards Sonny's empty glass, hoping to distract herself from her insistent thoughts of his fingers tracing along her neck, across her lips...

Wordlessly Sonny held out his glass, pulling Y/n out of her thoughts which were growing embarrassingly more inappropriate with each second that passed by. Absentmindedly she got to her feet, wandering over to the counter where the bottle of alcohol sat waiting, trying not to take notice to the slick feeling of her now soaked panties rubbing against her core with each step.

From behind her, Y/n heard Sonny get up, say something, but her continuous flow of filthy thoughts was a bit more than distracting. Planning to ask her friend to repeat whatever he had said, she left the bottle on the counter and turned on her heel towards him.

Much to her surprise and no doubt Sonny’s as well, as she spun around to face him, the detective had gotten up from his seat and was reaching around her for the bottle himself, landing Y/n sandwiched between the cool marble of the countertop and the firm form of Sonny Carisi.

Had it been any other time, they would have laughed it off, ignored the ay their hearts fluttered at the close contact. Turns out they were just the perfect amount of tipsy to have completely forgotten their usual actions, leaving them frozen in that position.

Looking up at Sonny’s uncharacteristically shocked expression, Y/n bit her lip, hesitated momentarily before giving in to the wave of courage that had washed over her. “...Can I kiss you?”

Blue eyes widened in surprise, narrowed as he tried to figure out if he had heard his partner correctly. He figured he must have missed something, tuned out some inside joke, but nodded hopefully anyways, and was immediately met by Y/n’s arms flying around his neck and her lips crashing against his.

Sonny retuned the kiss without hesitation, his own arms winding around her waist and tugging her hips against his. It didn’t take long for the two of them to start grasping at each other, one of Sonny’s hands snaking upwards, into her shirt to grasp at Y/n’s breast while she rocked her hips into his, grinding down on the rapidly growing bulge in his pants.

Y/n was sure her pants were as drenched as her panties by now as her hands flew upward to tug at Sonny’s hair, drawing a whine against her mouth from the taller figure.

“Holy shit, Sonny...” Y/n gasped when he pulled off her mouth, his chest heaving and lips swollen and she was sure she looked no better.

Far past the point of wanting foreplay, Y/n released her grip on Sonny’s hair so she could reach a hand between their heated bodies and roughly palm at his swollen erection, earning a choked moan and a thrust of his hips into her hand.

“Fuck, Y/n. Need you,” He hissed, stepping back to tug desperately at his belt. Y/n felt the same, suddenly unable to keep herself from him any longer. Frantic hands flew at the fastenings of her pants, kicking them off along with her panties as Sonny did the same beside her.

The moment his aching cock was freed from his boxers Sonny threw himself at Y/n, pressing her back against the back of her couch and grinding his length against her inner thigh, the slick feeling of his pre-cum so close to her core making her eyes fall shut.

“Don’t be a fuckin’ tease Carisi” Y/n whined, fingers threading through his hair again and tightening when she opened her eyes again, being met with Sonny’s intense stare.

His eyes stayed locked with Y/n’s, breathlessly watching the little ways she squirmed with each glide of his cock along her clit, and when he finally pushed into her, inch by inch until he bottomed out, Y/n let out an animalistic howl, crying out at the sensation of her walls clenching around his girth.

“Y/n...” Her name fell from his lips as a desperate groan.

To her relief he took no time in working up a rhythm, slamming his hips into her own again and again until she was crying out with each thrust, moaning and whimpering as each drive of his cock into her aching cunt hit something deep inside.

His hips pistoned into her over and over, one hand clutching the back of the couch Y/n was pressed against and the other clasped on her thigh, no doubt leaving bruises while his cock slammed into her g-spot and left her gasping beneath him.

As Y/n let out another wanton moan, fingers slid downwards to press against her clit, and the slight amount of friction mixed with Sonny’s increasingly rough thrusts was exactly what she needed to push her over the edge, back arching and eyes clenching shut as she succumbed to the pleasure.

Y/n’s climax triggered his own, and with a wrecked moan Sonny came as hard as she had, crying out shamelessly against her chest. He continued thrusting, fucking his way through both their orgasms as his release began to drip down Y/n’s thighs, his muscles tensing under her when his body finally stilled.

Completely and thoroughly fucked out, Y/n gathered her last remaining bits of strength and rolled over the back of the couch, collapsing on the pillowy cushions and dragging Sonny with her. Sonny, being a fair bit larger than Y/n landed quite unceremoniously on top of her, drawing an “oomph” from him and a worn out snicker from Y/n.

“Shhh, no talk, just shut up n’ sleep” Y/n mumbled against the taller figure’s neck. Sonny, too exhausted to put any effort into speaking did just as she said, and with the vague thought that tomorrow morning would be uncomfortable, Sonny drifted off to sleep, Y/n softly snoring beneath him with her legs tangled in his own.

#stole the show series #sonny carisi series #sonny carisi imagine #sonny carisi x reader #svu smut #sonny carisi smut #peter scanavino #law and order: special victims unit #sonny carisi #svu

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stupouid · 4 years ago

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Unity (ATLA boys x reader) Chapter 1

Prologue|Chapter 1

A/N haha lets go im bored and i have lots of ideas so here’s chapter 1. Y/N meets Sokka in this one ee-ee I hope you guys like it!

Warning: unedited, like ONE curse word.

word count: 2432 words ee-ee

Y/M/N is your mom’s name

if you have any more questions you can say so in the replies or my askbox!

Omashu, Earth Kingdom

5 years later

You know how Azula said that things would run smoothly for Y/N because she was of royal blood? Well that was a fucking lie. Y/N and her father moved back to Omashu because Y/N’s mother had passed away. Y/N thought that because of her blood, she would at least get to meet her grandfather, King Bumi, but she was only met with dirty looks. After pushing countless questions onto her father as to why they were treated so badly, Y/N’s father caved in and told her the truth. The whole truth.

Y/N’s mother was an Earth Kingdom princess. Y/N was aware of that already, but what Y/N didn’t know was that her mother was disowned after her parents found out that she had a child with a fire nation nobleman. They were in the middle of a war, for spirits sake. How could the king's own daughter fraternize with the enemy? Flooded with embarrassment, Y/N’s mother suggested they leave Omashu, and Y/N’s father took Y/N and her mother to the Capital City in the fire nation so the young couple could get married and raise Y/N in peace.

Y/N thought the story was sweet. Her mother gave up a lavish life in the Earth Kingdom to live in the fire nation (basically enemy territory.) But the rest of Omashu didn’t see it that way. They thought of Y/N’s mother as a traitor, and since Y/N was her daughter, they saw the young girl as a traitor too. It didn’t help that Y/Ns father wasn’t ashamed of his fire nation bloodline. Their neighbors were convinced that the L/Ns were spies.

For the next four years of her life, Y/N lived in hell. She was severely bullied at school. She came home from school with tears in her eyes at least twice a week. Y/N was afraid to set foot anywhere near the royal palace. But she found solace in meditation. There was a large hill several blocks away from the bustling city where she sat and meditated. But all this (or at least some) came to an end when on Y/N’s 13th birthday, Mai’s father Ukano, successfully infiltrated the city. All fingers were pointed at Y/N and her father, as the recent events ultimately supported the claim that they were spies. However, they couldn’t exactly prove it and the L/Ns remained in Omashu.

Despite having even more reasons for the people of Omashu to hate Y/N, at least she wouldn’t be alone anymore. After four long years of sending letters back and forth, Y/N finally got to see one of her best friends again. (Not that Y/N didn’t ever see Ty Lee in those four years, Y/N did watch Ty Lee’s performances in the circus every once in a while) In the next year, Mai trained Y/N in throwing knives like she promised, and also taught her how to take care of Tom-Tom, along with gossiping with her about what had happened with who and what.

Y/N cried when she learned that Zuko had been banished from the Fire Nation for the past two years, and came to the conclusion that he was so focused on capturing the Avatar and regaining his honor that he never replied to her letters anymore. However, Y/N was surprised to learn that Zuko and Mai got together before said banishment. She wasn’t upset by this, as the two talked about how they were more like siblings to each other years before.

A month after Y/Ns 14th birthday, Mai and Y/N received a letter from Azula stating that she and Ty Lee would be in Omashu. Azula was forming a small, elite team to bring back Zuko and General Iroh to the fire nation. Y/N was confused as to why Azula would need a team to bring them back, but then realized that Zuko wouldn’t stop until he caught the avatar, and probably needed lots of people to convince him. Nonetheless, Y/N tagged along with Mai to reunite with Ty Lee and Azula.

Hugs were shared, gifts were given, and soon it was time for the four girls to head back to Mai’s home. Once they arrived, the female warriors learned that not only did the majority of the city’s citizens had to evacuate because of a sickness called ‘pentapox’, (which Y/N had never heard of in her life) but that Tom Tom was missing and most likely being held hostage by the Resistance. Azula was furious with Mai’s father for being so careless, and Y/N and Mai were outraged that the citizens had taken Tom Tom. Azula proposed they trade Tom Tom for King Bumi and rename the city to ‘New Ozai’ because Ukano had made a fool of himself. Despite being raised in the fire nation for more than half of her life, and the people of Omashu treating her and her father like dirt, Y/N was conflicted by Azula’s proposition. Technically, Y/N could take the throne (if it ever came to that), and this was her mother’s home. But Y/N knew better than to defy Azula in anything and stayed quiet. The four girls went to bed, mostly thinking about kicking the resistance’s asses.

Soon morning came, and the girls got ready to make the trade. The girls met with the Avatar just next to where the statue of Fire Lord Ozai would be built. Upon arriving, the fire nation girls were met with a small boy with a hat on, a beautiful looking girl water tribe girl who looked around her age, and an extremely handsome watertribe boy who had a necklace that matched hers.

“Hey! Where’d you get your necklac-” “Hi everybody!” The watertribe started to question Y/N, but was cut off by King Bumi being lowered down by a crane in a cage.

“Azula? Is that…” Y/N was amazed. This was her grandfather?

“Sadly, it is. You can go to him while I confer with the Avatar.” Azula chuckled. Y/N ran straight to her grandfather. Aang was about to protest, but Mai said, “You brought my brother?”

Aang responded with, “He’s here. We’re ready to trade.” Mai, Aang, and Azula talked to each other for a while, and in the meantime Y/N was trying to get to know her grandfather.

“K-king Bumi?” Y/N asked the old man.

“Are you asking if I’m King Bumi? Because I am. What do you want?” The old man replied. Despite being trapped in a metal case, Y/N was still intimidated by him.

“I knew your daughter. Y/M/N?” King Bumi’s face contorted, and Y/N couldn’t tell if it was out of confusion or disgust. “Y/M/N?” he stated. “Oh! Y/M/N! My daughter! Yes! It’s been so long since I’ve seen her. She moved to the fire nation, you know. Speaking of which, you look just like her! I wonder wh-” Y/N cut him off.

“She died. Four years ago. And I’m… I’m her daughter. So you’re my grandfather.” Tears were threatening to slip out of Y/N’s eyes, but Y/N wouldn’t dare let them out. She didn’t want to cry in front of Azula and the cute watertribe boy.

“Oh. What’s your name? How come I’ve never seen you before? Why have you never visited? You know, I wasn’t the one who chose to disown Y/M/N. It was your grandmother, actually.” Y/N was shocked to hear that he didn’t hate her. She started sobbing as she said,

“Y-Y/N. My n-name is Y/N. My mother s-said that after she was disowned she urged my father to move us to the fire nation. We lived there until she died, when I was 7.”

“Oh, you poor girl. How come you never visited? I would have been more than happy to let you stay!” Despite his crazy exterior, King Bumi was a kind and soft person at heart.

“I-I thought you would hate me! I-it doesn’t help that my father isn’t ashamed of being fire nation. And I’m so sorry that my friend’s father has taken over this place. I’m so sorry, King Bumi.”

“Nonsense! It isn’t your fault you lived in the fire nation, or that this place is conquered by the fire nation. I could never hate you because of your mother. I never even hated your mother. I just wish you came by the palace sometimes.”

“I wish I did too-” The cage that trapped King Bumi was being lifted up, and Y/N was cut off by King Bumi screaming “Whoaa! See you all later!” Panicking, Y/N screamed, “GRANDFATHER!” She then turned around, screaming “AZULA!”

Aang thought to himself, ‘Grandfather?’ Before screaming, “Bumi!” Aang sprinted forward, but Azula blocked his way, shooting her blue flames at him. This confused Y/N. Why was Azula shooting at him? The small kid jumped and then he suddenly had a glider. While taking out the glider, his hat fell off, exposing the light blue tattoos on his body. Astonished, Azula and Y/N shouted, “The Avatar!” Y/N was aware that the current Avatar would have to be an airbender, but to actually see him in person, especially when Zuko was supposed to see him, it was amazing! The thought of the Avatar returning was what got Y/N through the hard times in Omashu. She knew that with him around, the world would be at peace again. But Y/N realized, if that kid was the Avatar, that meant Azula was shooting at him.

Y/N just stood there, watching as Ty Lee and Mai charged at the two watertribe teens while they were escaping with Tom Tom. It was a lot for Y/N to take in, and she couldn’t decide who’s team she would be on. After hearing a crash, she turned around to see the Avatar removing the chains from King Bumi’s cage.

“It’s just like old times, isn’t it, Bumi?” she heard the Avatar say to her grandfather. ‘Old times?’ she thought, but then remembered that the Avatar had been missing for over 100 years. Y/N decided she should be on the Avatar’s side since he knew his grandfather, so she started running over to the two, before noticing that Azula was shooting several fire missiles at them. This gave Y/N another reason to be on the Avatars side, her best friend was about to kill her grandfather for spirits sake!

Y/N booked it for Aang and King Bumi. But Azula’s missiles were faster than Y/N. Luckily, Aang fought them off with his airbending. Helpless, Y/N just stood there, watching the two throw their bending at each other. She hears Mai nonchalantly say “How are you gonna fight without your bending?”, which meant that Ty Lee chi blocked the watertribe girl. Y/N heard the watertribe boy reply with “I seem to manage!” and she couldn't suppress her chuckle. Y/N turns around again to see the Avatar and Azula still fighting. She heard the Avatar shout, “Hang on, Bumi! Our ride’s here!” signalling that the two were about to leave. Y/N was not going to let the Avatar leave with her only relative on her mother’s side, not without her at least. So Y/N screamed, “AVATAR! BUMI IS MY GRANDFATHER! TAKE ME WITH YOU!”

This outraged Azula, and she started directing some of her firebending toward Y/N. But after training with Azula for many years, Y/N knew her blind spots, and dodged the fire with ease. Aang heard what Y/N had said, and decided that it wouldn’t be a bad idea to take her with them. He figured that it wouldn’t hurt to take them, especially since she seemed to defy her friend for him. Y/N joined Aang and Bumi at the end of the chute the two were on.

“Im Y/N. Bumi’s granddaughter. And you’re the Avatar!” Y/N said, amazed. He looked much younger up close. “Were you friends with my grandfather?”

“Very close, actually. Before I disappeared. I’m Aang, and this is Momo!! It’s nice to meet you! I didn’t know Bumi had a granddaughter!” Aang replied, laughing. Y/N scratched the lemur between his ears. He was very adorable.

“I didn’t know either!” Bumi stated. The three laughed loudly. The laughter died down and there was an awkward silence, before Bumi said, “You should go. Goodbye, Aang and Y/N. Don't forget what I told you about jing! I’ll see you when the time is right.”

“What? Why! I only just met you! I can’t leave you!” Y/N interjected. She didn’t want to leave her grandfather behind.

“Just go. Y/N. I know you’ll help Aang with his mission greatly. And besides, Princess Azula doesn't seem too happy with you. Wouldn’t want to see how that turns out.” Y/N laughed. Hopefully she would see him again soon. She nodded at her grandfather and King Bumi let himself tumble backwards into the chute.

“So… I guess we’re allies now, huh?” Aang stated out of the blue.

“I guess so.” Y/N replied. “I didn’t realize that you were so young. I think I could help you guys out.” Aang nodded at this and they went to go find the two watertribe teens, Sokka and Katara.

Meanwhile, Ty Lee, Mai, and Azula were on a palanquin in the city. “So,” Mai started. “We’re tracking down your brother and Uncle now, huh?”

“It’ll be interesting seeing Zuko again, won’t it Mai? Too bad Y/N won’t be with us to see him.” Ty Lee asked Mai. The broody girl blushed at the thought of seeing Zuko again, but Azula grimaced when Ty Lee mentioned Y/N. She had saved that girl, chosen her, and she had the audacity to defy her? For some Avatar? As far as Azula knew, the Avatar was nothing more than a roadblock for Fire Lord Ozai’s plan to conquer the rest of the three nations.

“It’s not just Zuko and Iroh anymore. Since little Y/N decided to betray us for the Avatar, we have a third and fourth target now. Don’t feel bad for Y/N, by the way. If I hear you even talking positively about her, I’ll make sure your fate is the same as my brothers.”

taglist: @emberislandplayers, @eridanuswave

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lancermylove · 4 years ago

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Threatened Reader (HC)

Fandom: BSTS

Pairing: Kei x Reader, Rindou x Reader, Mokuren x Reader, Kokuyou x Reader, Mizuki x Reader

Warning: ANGST!!!!! Suicide, depression, violence, PTSD, blood, violence

Requested by: Anon

Prompt: Hello! I saw your Leaders X Reader..I wanted to requested..One too! So can I request a Leader X Reader, A reader ignoring their lover because a random fangirl said so or They will Kill her? The leader gets sad and keep forcing them to talk to them but when she yelled at them for the reason she ignored them she gets a bullet shot on her head?....I just want to know how they would react to that can you do a headcannon? If you can’t do this because it’s so sad and stuff, you don’t need to do it! :)

A/N: Dark, but I like the idea! This is going to get seriously dark, so if you can’t handle stuff like this, then please do not read any further. I AM SERIOULY! TURN AROUND NOW. Might I suggest reading some of my BSTS fluff hcs instead?

———————————————

Prologue:

"Why are you ignoring me? Did I do something wrong?" The anxiety and desperation in his voice were evident.

"Just leave me alone!" It pained you to say those words, but you had no choice. You chose to keep your back to him, no wanting to see his distressed expressions.

You wish that you had never met the insane fangirl on that accursed day. Her words kept ringing in your ears over and over. Stay away from him, or else I will kill you.

You would've taken her threat with a grain of salt had it not been for the crazed look in her eyes. She meant every word.

While you were busy with your thoughts, you failed to notice your lover behind you. He quickly wrapped his arms tightly around you.

"Don't do this to me."

No matter how hard you struggled, you couldn't get out of his iron grip. As you continue your attempt to get out of his hold, your eyes rapidly scanned the area. You prayed that she was not around.

"Enough! At least tell me why you're doing this!?"

The anger in his voice snapped something inside you. "Because I don't want to die!"

"What?" His grasp around you loosened as he stared in shock.

"One of your fans threatened me! She said to stay away from you if I don't want to die." You sighed, "Please, j-just leave-"

Before you could finish your sentence, a loud bang rang through the empty street.

———————————————

Kei

Kei's terror-filled eyes stared at your pallid face. Despite being in shock, he quickly took your body in his arm to prevent you from hitting the concrete road.

He attempted to call out your name, but words refused to come out of his quivering lips.

Kei couldn't tear his eyes from the hole in your forehead. He held your cold body close to him as his eyes stung and vision blurred. His body and mind slowly went numb.

Since that day, Kei had not rested once. His only desire in life was to find your murderer and make them pay. To reach this goal, he used everything he had: money, power, and connections.

With every passing day, his heart grew heavier, and his mind weaker. Your shrilling voice echoed in his ears. I don't want to die.

Your bloody, distorted face appeared in front of his lifeless eyes. One of your fans threatened me. Kei shut his eyes and clenched his teeth. She said to stay away from you if I don't want to die. He covered his ears with his clammy hands in hopes of escaping from his nightmare. You killed me.

"Sir. She's here."

Kei snapped out of his trance and quickly shifted his gaze to the girl walking towards him.

"Kei! I can't believe this! I'm such a huge fan."

He ignored her words and ordered his guard to leave. As soon as they were alone, his blood-shot eyes glared at the girl, causing her to freeze.

"You will pay for what you did to her." With those words, Kei aimed his gun to her forehead and pulled the trigger.

He felt little remorse as he watched her corpse hit the ground. His only goal in life, now fulfilled.

Kei lifted his eyes to the heavens and mustered a weak smile, "What am I supposed to do now? I never imagined a life without you."

He closed his tired eyes but soon opened them when he felt raindrops hitting his face.

"Are you crying? Please, don't cry." He brought his hand next to his forehead, "You are my world, and a life without you is not worth living."

Another gunshot reverberated through the empty grounds.

Rindou

Rindou stepped back a little, his mind went blank, and his vision blurred.

Time froze as he stared at your startled face. His eyes wandered up to the hole in your forehead and watched the blood oozing out.

Only when you hit the ground with a loud thud did his mind register the situation.

He fell to his knees and reached a trembling hand to you as your name escaped from his chapped lips.

His fingertips lost their warmth as soon as they came in contact with your body. Rindou gasped and covered his mouth, tears racing down his now pale skin. "N-No."

After that day, Rindou slowly began to change. He couldn't focus on his performances and failed to deliver to his fans.

Soon after, he stopped going to Starless all together. The cast members of Starless attempted to help him, but not even they could save him from the repeating voice in his mind. It's your fault.

The darkness within him grew, consuming every part of his mind and soul until he could no longer see the light.

The image of your pale, blood-covered corpse dancing in his eyes. Your horrified expressions still fresh in his mind.

Rindou could no longer take it. He grabbed his hair and started laughing. His laughter growing louder and louder by the second.

"Maica, do you think he will be alright?" Sinju looked at the magenta-haired man next to him.

"I don't know." That was all he could manage to say as they walked past a sign that read Psychiatric Ward.

Kokuyou

Kokuyou winced in pain and covered his ears, trying hard to maintain his balance. A constant beeping sound rang through his ears.

Despite being in agony, his eyes desperately searched for you. He made out a figure on the ground and crawled towards it.

As he got closer, Kokuyou's vision came into focus. He looked at your red-stained face in horror.

Forgetting his ringing ears, he scooped you in his arm and gently stroked your cheek with his fingertips.

His bloodcurdling scream resounded through the streets.

Kokuyou's anger issues had grown out of hand. He snapped at every person who spoke to him, disregarding their words.

His madness to find your killer even forced him to abandon Starless, the one that mattered to him above all.

He searched day and night until he found her- the demon that took your life. He could have gone to the police, but no, he wanted to end her with his own hands.

Even after he succeeded in avenging you, he was not at peace. Your memories, your smile, your words, and your corpse haunted him day and night.

Kokuyou pushed everyone away from him. She died because of you. The voice told him. You promised to protect her but failed.

He even distanced himself from the cast members of Starless as the what-if scenarios toyed with his mind. What if you can't protect them? What if they also die? What if they suffer the same fate as her?

Kokuyou slowly backed into a lonely corner. A corner where he didn't have to protect anyone. A corner where he wouldn't have to watch a loved one die ever again.

Mokuren

Mokuren stood paralyzed, watching you collapse to the ground. As their eyes studied your drained face, a knot began to form in their stomach.

Falling to their knees, Mokuren bent over to the side and threw up. They held on to their head tightly as everything around them spun. Small patches of black clouded his vision.

Mokuren got one last glimpse of your contorted face before blacking out.

They pretended to be fine, but the cast members saw right through them. They knew Moku was bottling his sadness and forcing it into the abyss of their heart. They knew their leader was growing weak. They knew. But they could do nothing.

Mokuren only danced. They refused to rest, eat, or sleep. Whether at home or Starless, they only danced.

They ignored their tired muscles, their screaming mind, their blurred vision, their bleeding soles, their aching heart, and only danced.

They disregarded Qu's words and concerns. Mokuren, please stop. You are hurting yourself. You are poison yourself.

They didn't care. They were willing to drink the poison, even if it lands them in the hospital or even kills them.

Mokuren said it once, and they will say it again, "Dance is all that I have."

They once had something more than dance, but they failed to protect it. Now, they are repenting for it.

Mizuki

Mizuki caught you in his arms and fell to his knees. Not being able to understand the situation, he screamed your name.

"Yah, wake up! Why the hell are ya not wakin' up!?" He shook your body furiously. Only when red drops landed on his hands did Mizuki realize the situation.

"W-Why?" The young boy hugged you close to him, not caring that your blood seaped into his clothes.

Tears stained his horrified face as he rocked back and forth, still holding onto you.

Mizuki had developed a temper, even worse than the one he had before. He forgot how to smile and only knew how to destroy.

He searched day and night for your murderer, disregarding his health and responsibilities. But in the end, he found her. He found the one responsible.

He yelled at her, made her cry, and then silenced her permanently. Mizuki sat next to her and stared at her, his mind losing the last bit of innocence it held.

He tried his hardest to quiet the annoying voice in his head. Again. But it kept coming back. Do it, again.

Exhausted, he gave in. He decided to jump headfirst into the darkness and joined a gang.

Your voice, blaming him for your death, had finally died down; instead, a new voice had taken over. More blood. I want more blood. Kill. Kill. KILL.

#bsts #blackstar theater starless #bsts kei #bsts mokuren #bsts kokuyou #bsts rindou #bsts mizuki

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baby-grayson · 4 years ago

Text

Kind Stranger|GBD|Part 12

Parts 1-11

Word Count: 4k Tag List: @styles-dolan @evergreendolan @someonetogray @vintagedolan @prettyboydolan @dolansficsandpics @graysavant @baby-turtles

Summary: Grayson and Kate try to be friends, but can you really be friends with your ex?

Ethan Dolan lived in the middle. In ways he both did and did not recognize; Ethan Dolan was always firmly in the middle. He was the middle child: being born 2 years after Cameron and 20 minutes before Grayson. He was in the middle of being famous and normal: a heart throb to the younger generation but an anonymous face to their parents. Since the age of 15, he was in the middle of having a New Jersey heart but a California life: despite his desire to stay in Australia and kiss his girlfriend for the first time in months. On one Tuesday night, Ethan Dolan sat in the middle of his twin brother and Grayson’s ex-girlfriend.

Why is it a three-person sofa feels so small when there are exactly three people sitting on it? A layman might answer that it was because the twins, especially Grayson, were large and bulky for their age. A wiseman would say that Ethan’s couch felt claustrophobic because that couch was housing four entities: Ethan Dolan, his beefy twin brother Grayson, Kate with her post-op foot propped up on their coffee table, and the deeply complex relationship between Grayson and Kate.

Grayson felt his heart launch itself onto an emotional teeter totter when Kate entered the room: he constantly oscillated between needing to pull her into his chest and breathe her in and wanting to break up in a sloppily worded soliloquy about his own independence and ability to find someone better than her. But Grayson really did wonder if there was anyone better for him. Being just friends with Kate was a fatal tease to Grayson’s emotions. As his friend, she still made him laugh, amazed him with her intelligence, and dizzied him with her effortless good lucks and bright smiles.

In truth, Kate dizzied Grayson so much that he specified looked for activities that would minimize her effect on him. Anyone else would slowly retract their involvement in their ex-girlfriend’s life, but Grayson subconsciously shelved that idea: secretly hoping that something would change if he held on long enough. This meant finding activities that did not require Kate to speak, look at him, or be alone with him, which is how Grayson, Kate, and Ethan ended up on the boys’ couch watching American Psycho on a Tuesday afternoon in August.

Ethan had suggested the movie to Grayson, originally as a joke. He knew Grayson did not have the mental fortitude to watch scary movies. Ethan almost intended to turn Grayson off from the idea so that he wouldn’t continue to be a third wheel on the adventure that was Gray and Kate’s friendship. Grayson had asked Ethan to accompany him to Kate’s apartment to drop off a few groceries for her in her current state. Grayson had blabbed to Ethan in the car that they were doing a nice gesture for a friend, that this is something they would do for Deon, Ryan, or Nolan if given the chance: Ethan silently wondered if Grayson was trying to convince himself.

After that episode, Kate had asked Ethan if he would be there when she and Grayson met for lunch for at their place. She went so far as to ask Ethan if he would drive her home in advance, trying to avoid being caught in a small space with Grayson. That lunch was the one of the most awkward burritos Ethan had ever eaten. Kate and Gray became caricatures of themselves, with Gray decided the only part of his life he could talk about was his successes in working out and Kate spitting out fun facts about science and math as if she had been paid to do so. Ethan Dolan was a good brother.

Ethan Dolan was so much of a good brother, that his eyes stayed firmly on the TV when Christian Bale’s character began having a threesome with two prostitutes. Kate instinctively closed her eyes tight, not that she was physically opposed to sexual content, she was just opposed to viewing it when in the company of her ex-boyfriend and his twin brother. Grayson’s jaw clenched and his eyes wide, his head stayed firmly planted on his neck: not daring to see the reactions of Ethan or Kate.

Silently, Grayson’s body exploded in a series of reactions. He utterly despised the part of him that became aroused at the scene. Since breaking up with Kate, he had been nothing but frustrated. He had tried to meaninglessly rump out that desire, but his plans had backfired when Kate woke up on his couch to find his nighttime partner escaping in the morning. Needless to say, Grayson was no where near physically satisfied.

He made a mental note to kill his brother for suggesting this movie. Did Ethan know this was in here? Is this why Ethan suggested it? Was this his idea of a joke? When one hooker became to mouth at Christian Bale’s undercarriage, Grayson nearly used the house key in his pocket to gauge out his twin brother’s eyes. Grayson’s mental soup of inhibiting arousal and seething anger was made all the more complicated by his treacherous nervous laughter.

Although incredibly sophisticated and mature for his age, Grayson Dolan was nothing if not an overgrown goofball. He had the bad habit of laughing in awkward situations, armed with a sense of humor that typically let him cut the tension in any room. However, no jokes came to his lips in this moment, only the nervous giggles of a schoolgirl bursted from his lips.

The trio stayed in that position: Kate’s eyes shut, Ethan facing straight ahead, and Grayson awkwardly chuckling at the end of the couch. After the longest three minutes any of them had ever experienced, Christian Bale escaped his threesome and began filming his companies with a 90s-esque camcorder.

“AHA-HA-HA,” Grayson laughed loudly but his eyes held the spirit of pain.

Kate decided she was going to mentally count to one thousand.

Ethan felt responsible to fix this moment. Afterall, he was the one who chose the movie. He was the one who caught Kate and Gray in this awkward situation. Although, he only felt bad for Kate: he felt a bit accomplished watching his brother squirm like this.

Ethan stuck his hand out from where he sat. Kate was on 202 when she felt Ethan’s shoulder move, she opened one eye. “Why the fuck would ya film that?” he exclaimed, “If I was there, I sure as hell wouldn’t be filming my own video unless I was in it.”

It was an okay thing to say for not knowing what he wanted to say. Even Ethan Dolan’s jokes fell flat at times. The air hung heavy and awkward, making Ethan nearly regret saying anything. Kate decided that Ethan’s attempt to make this better deserved some positive reinforcement. “I know! But at the same time, the fact he had to pay them means that he doesn’t know how to get it himself!” Kate knew her comment made little to no sense in relation to Ethan’s words, but it was the most sensical thing she could come up with. The only way she could make words happen was by pretending Grayson was not in the room.

Ethan scoffed and nodded with wide eyes. He nodded again, looking at different points on the ground in his search for words, “Yeah!!”. He faces palmed internally, as the air in the room washed from tense and awkward to bumbling in awkward.

Kate took in a breath, she continued to pretend that Grayson was not in the room. “I lowkey feel like most people who have threesomes probably have to pay at least one other person,” she shrugged to Ethan, “or get the third person from the internet.” Sure, talking to your ex-boyfriend’s twin brother about threesomes was a normal part of friendship…right?

Ethan sucked in his lips; his teeth immediately sank into the lips. He looked away from Kate and to Grayson. In the dark of their living room, he could notice the shade of red on Grayson’s face. The twins exchanged a wayward glance. Ethan surrendered and returned his focus squarely on the television.

Grayson stuttered slightly before he even decided to speak. But when he saw Ethan and Kate’s gazes look his way, he realized he had committed to speaking by making indiscernible sounds. “Not always,” his voice wavered in tone and frequency at each syllable, “When—you know—when I did it, it was just, two people who—” he wanted to curl up, melt into the sofa, and never return, “—really wanted to try with me.” With me? With me? How pretentious was he? Also what was he doing admitting that to Kate, on his couch, with Ethan sitting between them?

“It was a long time ago,” Grayson amended his statement, “Like over a year ago.” He should really shut up right now. Kate’s mouth gaped open slightly. If it wasn’t for the cast on her leg, she would have wanted to run out of the Dolan rental house as fast as she could. She peered at Ethan, looking for some sort of reaction. Ethan gave her a meek nod, as if to say that yes, Grayson was telling the truth. Kate swallowed hard. Kate looked back at Grayson and her lips went dry. “Must be a celebrity thing,” her words were quiet and hesitant before she turned to watch the movie. She realized that watching Christian Bale perform horrendous murders and romp with ladies of the night was better than discussing Grayson’s past sexual escapades.

None of them spoke for the rest of the movie. The three of them lasered in on the gritty, gory, graphic movie as if they would be tested on its contents afterward. They sat still, like three statues of themselves. They sat posed until the last name rolled on the credits of the movie.

Ethan moved first, standing from the couch and announcing that he had to use the bathroom before he drove Kate home.

Kate shifted next, looking for her crutches. She reached out but her petite arm could not grab them from where Ethan had set them down. Grayson stood without a sound to hand them to her, his eyes betrayed his heart by staring at her every chance he had. “Thanks,” she said before propped herself from the couch and coffee table. She balanced herself on her crutches and looked up at him with a weak, meager smile. “I have something for you,” Grayson told her, trying to keep a nonchalant tone with his hands shoved in the pockets of his sweatpants.

“For me?” Kate’s eyes were painted in strokes of genuine surprise. Grayson nodded, “One second,” he quickly hurried off into the kitchen before coming back to show her. In truth, the concept of being ‘just friends’ confused Grayson to no end. He constantly wondered if he was dressing correctly, joking correctly, and acting correctly to be ‘just friends’ with Kate. Ethan tried to give him advice, saying to treat Kate like he would his other friends. But Grayson knew that his other friends didn’t make him weak at the knees. “Oh Grayson,” Kate cooed, “You’re—That’s so sweet.” Grayson held out one of his brand new, signature Wakeheart candles in scent Healing. He smiled while he placed it on top of the coffee table, in front of her. “It’s my favorite of the bunch,” he shrugged, “I feel bad that you’re still crutching around, and you have to spend so much time in bed waiting to get better. I thought maybe it would help your energy until you’re up again.” The edges of Kate’s eyes pointed downward, “Thank you, really, I can’t wait to tell you what I think.” She gave him a bright smile. Grayson valiantly fought the internal urge to pull her into a kiss and tell her that he loved her.

Kate lit that candle later that night. She smiled while she breathed in the scents of evergreen, mountain air, and citrus. She closed her eyes and wondered if that’s what it smelled like when she and Grayson were tangled up in each other. Her sweet, citrus scents mixed in with his fresh, clean ones.

She pulled out her phone to text Grayson. She had her post-op leg elevated on a mountain of pillow while Planet Earth played on her laptop at the edge of the bed. She laid with a fluffy throw blanket draped over his normal leg and the rest of her body. She thought for a moment before typing out, “I love it! I can feel my scars burning by minute. Thanks for thinking of me Gray” she considered putting an emoji but decided it would make her look too enthusiastic.

As she typed out her note to Grayson, her phone pinged with a text from her grandmother. Kate was particularly close with her grandmother. Her father had left her life at a very young age, leaving her mother, Louise, to parent Kate. Her grandfather had passed from the Earth long before Kate was born, so her grandmother had moved in to help Louise raise Kate. Louise had even petitioned the court to remove Kate’s father’s name from her birth certificate when she was 9, to forever symbolize that Kate was not a Norris, she was a Walker. There were three Walker women in Philadelphia, all tough as nails, clever as a fox, and beautiful as the morning sky: Bethel, Louise, and Kathleen.

Kate smiled at the message from her grandmother, “How are you holding up cookie?” Kate thought for a moment before she texted her grandmother back. The last time she called her family had been before the surgery. She described LA to her mom and grandma, trying to capture both the serene beach and the fast cars. She had strategically forgotten to leave out Grayson.

Laying on that bed, covered in a blanket, with a bandaged foot, and a broken heart Kate desperately wanted to be back in the brownstone she grew up in downtown Philly. She was so lost in her thoughts, that she did not hear her phone ping when Grayson replied to her. She wanted her mother to hold her while her grandmother made pumpkin soup downstairs: when Kate thought really hard, she could remember the way the warm, cinnamon smells would permeate up the stairs, through her bedroom, and into her nostrils.

She looked down and typed out, “I’m holding in. I’m used to post-op life by now. If anything, I miss being home and wish I could see you more. Where I am now just isn’t the same. But I’ll make it, I’m your tough cookie. Could use your soup though.”

She sighed and wondered if there was a restaurant in LA that delivered pumpkin soup. She shook her head, trying not to get lost in nostalgic thoughts. She tapped on her phone to see what Grayson had texted her but did not see it.

It took a few seconds to realize that she had sent that message to Grayson, not her grandmother.

Kate’s eyes went wide as she threw her phone between her hands that were suddenly coated in sweat. She sat up and read what Grayson had responded to her. He had written out, “Glad you like it! I hope it helps with everything ☺️”

Kate read her message again, trying to figure out if there was anything in it that she would hate Grayson having to read.

“I’m holding in. I’m used to post-op life by now.” Okay, that was fine. That was cool. She had probably said something similar to Grayson earlier that day.

“If anything, I miss being home and wish I could see you more. Where I am now just isn’t the same.” Kate sucked in a breath between her teeth. That was confusing, she struggled to figure out if Grayson would be confused or read that as he disdain for the emotional place she was in.

“But I’ll make it, I’m your tough cookie.” Not as bad as the last part, but saying she was “his” tough cookie—that was the definition of problematic.

“Could use your soup though” What the hell would that even mean to Grayson? Was that sexual? Is that what the kids were calling it these days? Kate’s heart dropped when three little dots showed that Grayson was typically. In near hysterics, she slammed her fingers on her phone furiously trying to create sense with words. She settled on the brief, “Sorry that last text was for someone else. The candle is awesome though, so glad you gave it to me.” Grayson’s little dots disappeared from her phone screen. Kate read it again, finding it curt and cold. She threw her phone down on her bed and groaned. Internally, she decided that would just call her grandma next time.

The next day, Grayson surprised Ethan by asking to tag along when Ethan drove Kate to her doctor’s appointment. Ethan had the silent impression that Grayson and Kate were avoiding car rides together. He said yes to Grayson’s request, but felt weird giving his twin permission to accompany his ex-girlfriend to the doctor. Once again, Ethan Dolan was in the middle of whatever was happening between Grayson and Kate.

The car ride to the doctor’s office was filled with a semi-pleasant silence. Ethan had gotten used to chatting with Kate while he drove her to physical therapy, x-rays, and different appointments since her surgery. Sure, he could have asked her to take ubers but, in truth, he had started to both really like her and really care about her. Ethan was impressed by how quick she was, and he found himself thinking about things differently after her commentary. A part of Ethan missed that small talk on this ride.

Sometimes, Ethan would help Kate crutch to the door of the doctor’s office from the parking lot. Today, he stayed inside for fear that Grayson might try to walk in with her. Kate silently thanked Ethan for this, having the same thought herself.

Kate excitedly crutched out of doctor’s office after about 45 minutes. She had ditched her bulky cast, for a thick wrap of bandages and cotton: a small, but welcome upgrade. She nearly bounced into the Tesla, feeling a whole 5 pounds lighter from the lack of her cast. “I graduated,” she said in a high, bubbly voice as she settled into the car. “Congrats,” Ethan smiled at her through the rear-view mirror. “Any word on when you’ll back on your feet?” Grayson turned around in his seat to face her. His heart danced at the sight of her glittering smile and full cheeks.

Kate nodded softly, “Maybe 4 weeks, three if I’m lucky.” “If you’re lucky?” Grayson cocked his head to the side from where he was turned around. “Yeah, if I heal fast. So I should go home right now and light that candle again,” she joked. Grayson smiled; his eyes perked up. He opened his mouth to say something but was interrupted by Ethan, “Can we sit down and put on seat belts?” The first half of the Tesla ride back to Kate’s apartment was spent reviewing her diagnosis with the twins. Grayson was impressed when Kate correctly named all of the bones and major tendons involved with the ankle. She went into detail about how her talus had shattered, putting pressure on the cuneiform bones in the front of her foot. The three of them chatted on happily up until Kate shared her plans for the rest of the week.

“I’m going to be moving around a lot tomorrow, so I’m probably going to want to take Thursday and Friday to rest in bed.” She shared in a perky tone.

A tense ball formed in Grayson’s stomach, with the memory of the text that Kate accidentally sent the night before. He picked at the callouses on his hand for a minute, his tongue resting in the corner of his mouth. His curiosity got the best of him, “Who are you going out with tomorrow?” Ethan furrowed his brow, wondering if he had heard his brother correctly. Kate stammered softly, thinking back to what she just said. She looked at the back of Grayson’s head with dubious eyes, “Who?” Grayson nodded, swiping his tongue against his bottom teeth. He rested his hands from where he had been picking at them. His shoulders squared off with the car seat. “Yeah, the person you were texting yesterday. Is that who you’re hanging out with?” Ethan was lost, completely and totally lost—figuratively at least, he thanked the Tesla’s self-driving capabilities for stopping him from getting physically lost.

Kate shook her head from where she said, “I was texting my grandma.” The word made Grayson’s eyes open wide as a pang of guild hit him in the stomach. Kate continued, “What did you think I meant?” “I don’t know, that maybe you were going on a date or something?” Grayson knew how stupid he sounded the minute he finished the sentence. He could have said anything, literally anything else and it would have sounded better. A silence hung in the air for a moment, the only sound coming from the Tesla’s turning signal. Grayson tried to amend his statement by saying, “I thought you were getting back out there?” He wanted to shove his entire first in his mouth and never speak again. “Oh, no,” Kate said, “I just have orientation for my new school.” She admitted shyly, not wanting to talk about whether or not she had tried to move on from Grayson. Grayson’s heart sunk, “Oh, that should be fun.” He wanted to offer her something in return for embarrassing her. “I haven’t been out with anyone,” he admitted. He was disappointed he didn’t feel a sting of embarrassment. “But you have?” Kate’s tone was puzzled.

“No, not since you.” “But you did? That girl? That blonde girl that morning?”

Grayson swore internally a million times. He wanted to bury his head in sand and never see the light of day again. He wanted to bathe in as much holy water as LA county could fit. He ran his hands through his hair, hoping to stimulate his brain into saying something intelligent. He couldn’t find anything worth saying. The trio were silent until they dropped Kate off at her apartment.

Grayson went to bed that night still upset with himself. He wondered why it was so hard to be just friends with someone was wonderful as Kate. But a part of him knew he could never be friends with Kate. She was too much and not enough all at the same time: too much of everything he so desperately wanted in his heart of hearts, but not enough of tender life partner his heart panged for. He felt an internal pressure to make a decision: choose to silently exit Kate’s life or try to win her back. He didn’t sleep a wink that night.

#grayson dolan #dolan twins #youtuber #fanfiction #grayson dolan x oc #romance #fiction #writing #story #ethan dolan #grayson

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