#she'll go one day and i won't know everything that's ever happened to her
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its-tea-time-darling · 2 years ago
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i love this song but i also can't listen to it without crying because i know my grandma's going to die someday and im not ready for it
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And if I didn't know better, I'd think you were talking to me now...
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pacifistsworstnightmare · 29 days ago
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PAY IT FORWARD — dad!touya todoroki
there will always be tragedy in loving someone as flammable as todoroki touya, but when the dust settles and what's set ablaze has finally burnt to nothing— you and the proof he loved someone will be there still, despite it all. despite everything.
a/n : know that writing this ruined my fucking life And that i have plans for this. pif verse write it down this is happening. also dee im SORRY and i LOVE you
m.list !
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you stay in correspondence with shouto for a few weeks after he first reaches out, hearing little things about touya's recovery. about how he still hasn't woken up properly. about how his body is almost entirely burns now— sore, charred skin at least sewn and not stapled. about how he's lost his arm. how he almost entirely lost his life.
you feel like a dog, waiting at the beck and call of a seventeen year old as he updates you on touya's condition— going to sleep every night with your four year old daughter tucked under your arm on his side of the bed and feeling sick to your stomach as you clutch her close to your chest. because you know where dad is, know that he's finished work now. she doesn't, and you've told yourself you won't tell her unless you know she'll get to see him again.
but today is that day.
shouto had called late last night— not texted like he usually does— and talked you through the adrenaline rush and subsequent crash after finding out touya was alive. finding out he was awake. and that he was alone.
sayu— the girl as bright as the kanji of her namesake, the girl who has soothed more wounds than she'll ever understand— waits for dad even still. wanders around the new apartment with you, since your old one was destroyed when gigantomachia tore through most of shizuoka prefecture, holding tight onto your pant leg as you move to start making her breakfast. always wanting to be close to you.
the real clinging had started after she saw the video feed during the attack on jaku hospital, refusing the idea of daycare, and of staying with your parents. refusing to around anybody but you.
it hurts, watching her go from brave and adventurous with every step she took to so cautious and measured in every movement. you hum as she climbs into her chair at the little table in your kitchen, and you settle in next to her as you set her breakfast down in front of her— your own coffee warming your hands as you wrap them around the mug.
"we're gonna go somewhere today, bug." you start as she goes for the blueberries in her bowl first— a small victory, she normally rejects them for being sour because touya said it one time. you take a sip of coffee, nodding as you swallow before tacking on: "after you've filled up your tummy, of course."
she cocks her head at you, white tufts of hair flopping forward into her face as she does, and you push them back fondly. (it always makes something buried down in your chest claw and howl and beg for him back).
"where?"
"central hospital, near where obaa-san lives." the little frown that forms on her lips is almost instantaneous, and you have to swallow back a laugh.
"i don't want to see 'baa-san." you reach out softly to brush a little mess off her cheek, wiping it off with your thumb as you shake your head at her.
"no, we're not seeing her baby. we're actually gonna go into the hospital and visit someone." you watch the cogs turn over in her brain before she, with a mouthful of strawberry, asks.
"who?"
"it's a surprise, babe." sayu doesn't look satisfied with that answer, but you gesture to her bowl of fruit and yoghurt with your pinky as you hold your mug. "finish your breakfast and then we'll get cleaned up."
"hospital is where sick people are. i don't wanna go there." she's staring down at her bowl as she talks, pushing things around with the spoon held tight in her hand before she looks up at you again. "who's there for us?"
"eat, bug. i promise you'll find out when we get there, okay?"
cerulean irises meet yours, big lashes that make her eyes look larger than life batting at you for a second before she nods and goes back to eating.
"okay mama. my blueberries are too sour." so close.
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before leaving you'd checked with shouto more than once— maybe more than necessary— that there was zero chance of endeavour being at the hospital, because there was no way you'd ever let him near your child after what he did to his own. not after everything you've heard and seen, the brutal and tragic aftermath in the form of the man you love.
he assured you that he wouldn't be there, that no one beside him from his family would be there. you'd never anticipated ever meeting anyone in touya's family, and you appreciate it not being put on you all at once.
you still feel awkward walking through the hospital, sayu held on your hip and her head on your collar— occasional whispers and questions you answer with soft kisses and whispers of your own before reaching the front desk. the receptionist looks up at you, tired but kind, and asks what you're here for.
"hi, we're, uh- checking in? as visitors, i think."
someone behind you says your name, purposeful and weighted, and you already know it's shouto before you've even turned around. you're sure he recognised touya in sayu before even processing that it was actually you.
"shouto-kun, hi." you hum softly, letting him guide you a little bit out of the way— grateful to be away from the midst of people traffic in the most popular hospital in musutafu. you let sayu down, fine with her leaning back against your legs in front of you.
"just shouto is fine." he nods at you, then his eyes drop down to your daughter, and she offers a shy, and quiet hello. he's already bobbing down to meet her eye with a soft smile.
"hi. i'm shouto. what's your name?" she stares at him with wide eyes as she brings a hand up to her mouth, something to self-soothe in a new environment with ever-changing variables.
"you look like my dad."
"oh." he makes a small noise that sounds like something inside of him deflated. or maybe broke entirely. "well, your dad's my brother."
"oh." she nods at that, like she fully understands the gravity, before breaking out of her shell a little. "my name is sayu, but mama and dad call me bug. you're not allowed, even if you're friends with my dad." he smiles at her, and as you watch them interact you're sure he sees someone entirely different standing in front of him.
"alright, sayu-chan. it's nice to meet you."
"i like your hair, s'got white like mine!" she's pointing at him, her free hand petting her own head uncoordinatedly.
"it does, yeah." shouto nods again, brushing a hair through the white half of his hair before looking back up at you— something unspoken, like grief (grief just like yours), swimming in his eyes. "she looks just like him."
sayu doesn't give you much of a chance to say anything, your mouth barely opening to answer him before she continues to prattle on.
"my dad's busy working, do you have a job?" shouto laughs, something soft and fond as he looks at your daughter.
"uh- no, not yet. i will when i'm a little bit older."
"should get one, my dad's a superhero! that what he does for a job, s'really cool, huh?"
another sad noise claws it's way out of his throat, and he stares at you for a second before nodding at your daughter with the same kind of pretend smile you offer people who ask how you're doing. your heart aches.
he stands back up to his full height, taller than you— probably taller than touya, much to his disgust— and clears his throat before gesturing to the elevator at the end of the hall.
"uh, you two can follow me— his room's up on another floor."
"right, yeah. lead the way."
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shouto guides the pair of you onto the fifth floor of the hospital and leaves you in the hall after giving you the room number— wanting to give you space, to allow another family reunion that he's not entirely apart of yet.
"we're gonna go in this room, 'kay? you know why?" she shakes her head softly, looking up at you as she clings at the fabric of your pant leg.
"no mama."
"'cause dad's in there," you watch her perk up immediately, a thousand questions ready to be spewed from her lips before you shake your head and pet her hair gently. "but we've gotta be quiet 'nd calm 'cause we're still in a hospital."
"is he hurt? or sick? s'probably 'cause he's been working too much, mama." your chest feels tight, and you nod at her words. she's always been so intuitive, so smart, and you're infinitely proud even if it hurts. "you should tell him off."
you laugh, a soft and wet sound, as you brush her hair back out of her face.
"okay bug, i'll tell him off for you." she nods, sufficed at that answer, and you brush her hair out of her face again before continuing on. "and yes, dad's hurt right now— but he'll be okay after the doctors fix him all up, okay? so we're gonna be real gentle, 'nd nice and quiet."
"okay mama."
you feel odd as you knock on the door, pushing it open at the affirmative call from inside— the voice, so familiar but hardly recognisable all the same, makes your breathing stutter— and you stop in your tracks at the sight of him. whatever you'd prepared yourself for, it wasn't this, and your stunned silence doesn't go unnoticed by him.
"wouldja look at that, s'that my girl?" his voice is different, but still his— more hoarse now, like it hurts to speak. touya looks more like himself in that hospital bed than you've ever seen him, even with one arm, with no staples holding skin together, and no more black hair— enough towels had been ruined by his attempts to keep his identity hidden from the world. he looks like new, and he looks like home.
"touya," it's all you can say, really, while you stand there as the door to his hospital room clicks shut behind you— all your brain can supply is touya. touya, touya, touya. because he's here, and he's alive, and he's in front of you again.
"where's my other girl—?"
he cocks his head a little, white tufted hair flopping over against a stiff hospital pillow as he gazes at the little girl hiding herself behind your leg— his little girl, who's hiding from him.
he smiles at her, something kind and soft— nothing that the world gets to see, that smile is reserved for his girls— before shifting his expression to an exaggerated pout.
"why're you bein' so shy, huh? s'it scary in here with all the machines?" you feel sayu's fist curl into the fabric behind your knee as she leans her cheek against your legs, staring at her dad but not making any moves just yet. your heart breaks, shatters into a thousand pieces, and you know touya's does too.
you reach back a little, offering her a wobbly smile as you push her hair out of her face and try your best to sound reassuring.
"it's okay, bug, s'just dad— even with machines 'nd bandages. still just him." she looks up at you, leaning her head into your hand for a second before reaching up to grab for it— coming around to stand next to you rather than behind you, with your hand clutched tight in both of hers.
sayu stares at him for a second, like she can't decide what to say, before settling for:
"your hair's like mine now."
touya scoffs out a laugh, a genuine one, and raises his hand to drag his fingers through the white she's talking about.
"it is, huh? maybe i wanted to match you, 'cause you're so cool." she's smiling now, cheeks growing a little rosy as she bounces just a little on the spot.
"can i sit with you?" he's already patting a spot on the bed, shifting over a little to make room.
"mhm, there's a special spot for an insect right here," you clearly don't do a good job of schooling the apprehension in your expression, because he's already waving your concern away with his hand. "s'okay, she can't do any more damage."
"that's not funny, touya." you huff at that, like a child who's stomping their foot at not getting there way, staring at him with wet eyes and a wobbly frown— letting sayu go anyway, knowing she deserves time with her dad. she's waited this long, it's not fair to hold her back from finally getting a cuddle with him.
he grins over at you, sayu already curling up in the space his forearm would've taken up if it was there.
"is a little bit. c'mere, lemme have both my girls close, yeah?"
"i don't wanna be in the way or anything."
he sighs, long and suffering but playful all the same, before waving you over with his hand. you stare at him still, like if you look away he'll disappear and leave you alone again.
"would you just get over here? 'm finally lookin' at you again, just- indulge me, please?" you laugh softly, choked up a little as you finally do give up and move over to his side— not sayu's side, that's hers— and curl into him as best as you can while half standing and half kneeling on the edge of the hospital bed.
"only because you said please." he lets out a quiet, sad laugh at that, leaning over a little to kiss your head— to kiss the crown, your forehead, to nudge your face up to meet his own and kiss you properly.
"missed you so much, y'know that? shouldn't have left you alone— damn it." he mumbles into the top of your head, the both of you now sniffly and trying to keep that dam intact and not have a full blown meltdown in front of your daughter.
"'m so glad you're okay. i was so scared, you know that? stupid man."
"i know baby, i know— never leave you again, you hear me? never." he kisses your head again, arm wrapped around you and hauling you to properly get on the hospital bed— dragging you up to lay against his chest, giving you the perfect view of your daughter like this. and she's cuddled into his side with wide eyes welled up with tears, and when she sniffles quietly touya's head is already snapping down to look at her.
"you cryin', bug?"
"sayu—"
"dad i missed you." she lets out a small sob, and it's the beginning of the end for her holding any kind of emotion back— the rest of her words a garbled mess of sniffles and tears. "can't go to work that long ever again— not even as a superhero."
"okay baby, you got it. dad's not goin' anywhere." he nudges her gently onto his lap, letting her cry it out as he presses kisses to her head and face— and when she eventually calms down enough to be coherent again, she points at his amputated limb.
"where'd your hand go?"
"ah, fell off at the elbow 'cause i didn't eat my vegetables— s'just what happens."
"FOR REAL?!"
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— 2025 © pwn. all rights reserved. do not repost, narrate, or translate my works. thanku!
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shanesevikasfuckdoll · 6 months ago
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Sevika Headcanons 🦾
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🚫Men and Minors DNI🚫
What I think Sevika would be like generally. a little bit of switch Sevika. 🦾
SFW:
She can cook well. She just doesn't cook OFTEN. I think that's something people don't get, but I think she's a good cook.
If you can't cook, she'll happily cook for the both of you.
If you can't, she'll probably most definitely make fun of you for not knowing how to use a knife, but she'll be happy to cook for you.
As long as you wash the dishes.
She does not have a type at all. Physical appearance? None. All she wants is someone competent, and someone that is okay with her not being home as much. But she does make it up to you.
If you have long hair, she'll braid it, and even help you oil your scalp once in awhile, like her mother taught her to.
If you have short and buzzed hair, she likes to run her hand through the freshly buzzed hair, and also like to help you oil your scalp.
Amazing with henna. You once bought her some henna, and she teared up a little bit, since it's been a long time since she's ever done henna on herself, ever since her mom died.
She decorates you with henna once in awhile, during her free time, and she likes to teach you about her culture that her mom has passed down onto her, and you help her heal her inner child by doing that.
You like to get her in touch of her culture, and she likes you even more because of that. In Zaun, there's not much of a place for sentimentality, but this, her culture, her mother is a part of her, and you like to remind her that with what happens everyday, she's still herself. That she's not just a woman fighting for the freedom of Zaun, that she's also herself.
She tends to forget that, after all.
TOUCH STARVED AS HELL.
Won't let just anyone touch her, only you, though.
She's actually really clingy. I mean, REALLY clingy. You'd be surprised. Of course, she still has a reputation to maintain, but even so, she doesn't shy away from showing you love outside the comfort of your own home.
Her love languages are definitely Acts of Service, Physical Touch, and Gift Giving.
She likes to do small things for you, like make you a cup of coffee in the morning. Charge your phone, when you're asleep. Give you a massage when you had a particularly bad day.
I lied. It's not small things, she does EVERYTHING for you. Opening doors wherever you go. Helping you change out of your clothes when you're drunk. Carrying you wherever, when your feet feel tired. Anything, you name it.
For gift giving, she likes getting you stuff that remind her of you. Like, a particular flower, or trinket, that she thinks you'll love, she'll find a way to get it. If she can't however, she'll just tell you about it. "I saw a butterfly. Reminded me of you" Anything.
Sometimes, when she goes away for long periods of time, you better expect 2 things. 1. she'll come home with alot of bruises and cuts. 2. She brought food, or a little trinket.
When Sevika is out for a work trip, she'll call you the whole way there, until she has to get off the trainz and actually do business.
Hates, hates, hates when you're the one going out, and it's her rest day. She's not stopping you from having your own life, she's just a baby that wants your undivided love and attention. And who are you to deny her of such?
Not often jealous, but extremely possessive.
I lied, she is a bit jealous, but not because she doesn't trust you. She doesn't trust other people.
One time you were out at night and a guy catcalled you. Ooh, boy, let's just say he was beyond saving at that point.
She's EXTREMELY loyal. That actually goes without saying, but just wanted to put that out there.
And you're as loyal to her as she is to you. That's what she admires so much about you, not just the love, but the loyalty, and how she knows that you're always on her side, and you'll choose her no matter what.
She loves, loves, loves it when you cut her hair. You're the only person besides a barber that can touch her hair.
She's really careful of not hitting, or crushing you with her robotic hand, and at first, she doesn't even touch you with it. But when you show her it's okay, and you're not scared of her, she loosens up a bit, and lets you hold it. With caution.
She likes it when you caress her face, and absolutely loves it when you kiss her knuckles. Even on her robotic hand.
She giggles like a little girl, when you two are alone. It's kind of cute to see her that way. That's her way of showing her vulnerability.
She loves drama. There's alot of perks of being the right hand woman. She gets to hear everything going on in Zaun. Although she is a quiet woman, she'll tell you everything that happened throughout the day, any drama that she comes across, and you guys laugh together about it. "Did you know (name) and (name) just got divorced?! Turns out (name) was a cheating prick!" She gossips to you. you of course match her energy, and be as shocked as her, "I fucking knew it!"
That was your bonding time with her. Yup, gossiping.
She sleeps with her on your chest, and you cuddle her head, and wrap your legs around her.
Her idea of a date is having you on top of her on the couch, as you both binge eat, and watch some horror together.
She is a bit of a scardey cat, when it comes to horror, so often times, her grip tightens on you, and she'll hide her face in your chest. You pause the movie, and comfort her, and change it to comedy, or something.
NSFW:
She's a bit of a switch.
She gets really turned on, when you comfort her in your chest though. Sometimes you think she just does it for the attention, but you don't seem to mind.
"You want me to change it, baby? Yeah?" You say, as you run your fingers through her hair. She nods. "mhm"
she says, and you change the channel immedietly. She flips the two of you, and now she's on top of you. You're now watching a dumb sitcom, and she's peppering your face with kisses.
You giggle at her antics, but don't try to stop her. "Oh, my baby, were you scared?" you coo at her, your legs high above the air, and you caress her face.
"Mhm, so scared." She says to you. She takes your sweater off, admiring the view. She's careful not to crush you with her bionic arm, as she goes down, and licks you nipples, and sucks them, and plays with the other tit with her other hand.
She likes making you moan, the louder the better. When you try to put a pillow over your head, or you try to use your hand to cover your mouth, she's grabbing it away from your mouth, to let you moan freely, and loudly.
"mhm, s-sev! More!" She likes it when you're needy, fucking loves it when you beg. "S-sevi, please!"
She can't say no to you that long, so she gives in almost immedietly, right after she teases the fuck out of you.
She takes your pants off, and sniffs your panties. (Yes, we got ourselves a panty sniffer, but it's okay, it's her, and we love her.)
"Y-you're such a perv!" and with that, she throws your panties somewhere on the floor, and she spreads your legs apart. You moan. She takes a good look at your wet cunt.
She takes a finger, and runs it along your silky folds, "mhmm, se-vika! s-stop teasing!" She smirks at you, and she finally goes down, not giving you a second to process that she's taking a stripe of your cunt. "A-ah, hmm, sev-ika, yo-u fe-el so g-good"
you can barely speak properly.
she eats your pussy like its her last meal on earth, she just hits all the right spots, and you pull her hair a little harder, and moaning louder.
and just like that, you were about to cum. like magic. Her tongue should be kept in bars, for how good it feels, it's unfair.
"s-sevika, I'm cl-ose!" You moan out, your take your hand, and fondle your own tits, while you moan her name "se-sevika!!"
"Cum for me, baby, I want you to come in my mouth" she tells you. It's like a magic word at this point when she tells you to cum for her, you actually do.
"o-oh yes! hmm, fuck!" You throw your head back, your grip on her hair tightening, and you push her deeper, and deeper into your pussy.
You were practically drowning her. But you know this is what she wants. This is what she loves.
After awhile, when you calm down, you pull her up, and lean in for a deep kiss. You can actually taste yourself a bit in her mouth.
When you finally gain the energy, you smirk at her, "Now it's your turn baby~" You say to her, pushing her on to the couch, and make her lay there. You position yourself between her thighs, and you pull per pants off.
You take a whiff of her sex, and she smells absolutely amazing. You take your time with her, your tongue slow, sensual, and you taste every part of her. When she moves around alot, that's when you decide to take your hand, and wrap it around her legs, and hips, to keep her from pushing. She's pulling back, little by little as she gets closer and closer.
You pull her back, practically wrestling her, "You're not going anywhere, Sevi" You say firmly, and get back to what you're eating. She huffs, and whimpers, and she grips your hair tightly, her body stiffening up, and you can feel her grind herself on your tongue, you let her dance for a bit, until she's almost close. You put 2 fingers in her pussy, and pump it fast and hard, in contrast to the slow, and sensual licking of her clit.
She's grinding more and more now, her grip ever so slightly getting harder, and harder. "F-fuck, princess, you're s-so fuck-ing good, mhm, I'm almost there!" She sobs, you smile while eating her out, and maintain eye contact with her, you pull back and slowly finger her, just teasing her a little bit. She whines even more. "Hmm, baby, I want you to look at me when I make you cum. Got that?" She looks at you flustered, and she nods.
You smirk, and you put your mouth back on her, and your fingers pump faster and faster, and there she is trying her best not to throw her head back.
"c'm fr m, bby" You say while you suck and lick her clit.
And with that, her body convulses, her head thrown back, her eyes rolling in the back of her head, and she grinds on your face more, and more. You close your eyes, enjoying the tastes of her juices coming out, your fingers still fast, and your face getting soaked from her squirting cunt.
You pull back, and take your fingers out of her. You lick her clean, not missing a spot, and you make her suck on your fingers, as she pants, she opens her mouth, and suck it clean.
You get up, and get a towel for her, she's still experiencing the aftermath of her orgasm. "Enjoy yourself, baby?" You ask her teasingly with a smile on your face.
She rolls her eyes, and it honestly looks like she's making a sex face at you right now. You chuckle, and cuddle up to her naked, and she giggles at you.
"I love you so fucking much, Sevi." You look up at her, cupping her cheeks with your hand, and you went up to kiss the top of her head.
She's still catching her breath, bit alot calmer now, and she smiles at you. "and I love you, princess. Janna, that mouth of yours, huh?"
You both giggle for the night, and fell asleep just like that.
>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>>
Okay, so is it obvious I like writing switch Sevika, or not?
This was actually a bit of an emotional roller-coaster to write, but I kind of like it.
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burningcheese-merchant · 5 months ago
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ANSWER THIS AND YOU GET A FUNNY BURNING CHEESE COMIC
Hear me out
The ancients giving themselves up to the beasts as sacrifices if they agreed to leave earthbread alone and never wreck terror or show their faces again
I'd say everyone besides Flour would go:
Say less Babygirl*hops into a pumpkin carriage and rides off into the sunset*
Maybe Salt would need a lot of convincing because... Holy shit it could be this easy, Milk you seeing this, quick Spice snap a photo this is a moment in history
Flour is just in massive denial but would find a way to agree to mke it seem like it isn't about love or anything
Unknown3doors, don't tempt me like that 👀 don't tempt me like that, unknown3doors 👀 you're playing with fire, unknown3doors 👀🔥
Pure Vanilla surrendering to Shadow Milk would be the happiest day of Shadow's life. He makes Vanilla repeat himself multiple times, makes him announce it through a megaphone, they do a radio broadcast, Shadow makes a TV special out of it, Shadow writes poems and essays gloating and taunting... And then he eventually agrees to Vanilla's terms (although, he DOES try to haggle for permission to continue annoying people). Pure Vanilla is HIS!!! HE'S FINALLY HIS!!! FOREVER AND EVER!!!!!!! (And the Soul Jam, technically. But WHATEVER!!! HIS SILLY VANILLY!!!). Now Vanilla must endure having to spend EVERY SINGLE MINUTE of his life within 10 feet of Shadow AT ALL TIMES, or else the deal is off and Shadow will commit genocide in retaliation. Why the long face, though? You agreed to this! You knew this would happen! Maybe if Vanilla behaves well enough, like a good little doll, Shadow will allow himself to be HIS doll for a time. Tit for tat. It's only fair. They can be each other's playmate for eternity now...
Eternal Sugar would be 100% awake for the first time in forever if Hollyberry offered herself to her - in exchange for anything at all, it never had to have been for keeping innocents safe. Typical of Holly, in her estimate; she's not necessarily surprised by this. Maybe she'll feign a bit of surprise just because, maybe she'll tease Holly about it... But all in all, she's quite pleased. Now she can keep those pesky subjects of Holly's away from her much easier (as well as her friends... Including that ridiculous dragon...). Holly will learn to see things her way eventually. Appreciate the little things. Like a nice, long nap in a warm bed, in the arms of a loved one... Pleasant, sugary sweet dreams that are too comforting to wake up from... No one ever bothering them about anything ever again. Free from their responsibilities, free from the burden of the shield and the crown. Just the two of them in their own little world, pursuing their own happiness. Won't that be nice?
Mystic Flour would struggle to even entertain Dark Cacao's presence, never mind his... proposal (oh gods, not that word). She would refuse, and refuse, and refuse again. But Cacao does not give up, stubborn fool that he is. Curse his Light of Resolution... Eventually, in lieu of plainly refusing, she tries to appeal to reason. What about his kingdom? His people? What would they say, think, do? Will he leave them behind just to keep her pacified? What about his friends? His son? Who will rule in his absence? Unfortunately, Cacao has an answer for every single one of her questions... and, with an even greater undertone of misfortune... she likes them. That part of her that likes HIM also likes this. That he always has an answer for everything she says. That he won't bend the knee to her, no matter what. His self-sacrificing nature, bordering on martyrdom... just like hers once was. In truth, every word out of her mouth is only serving to delay her inevitable acceptance of his offer. A feeble attempt at shooing him away, one final shot at denying her feelings towards him, for having him around her constantly would be too much to bear, and she might... She... She'll break. She knows she will. And she can't have it. She won't stand for it.
... Dark Cacao, stubborn, handsome, selfless fool that he is. He has undone everything she ever worked for. Her apathy meant nothing the moment they locked eyes. It means nothing now, as they go back and forth about this foolish deal of his. And it won't mean anything when she eventually says yes.
(But she'll try to pretend otherwise, for as long as she can. Neither of them could handle the truth...)
Golden Cheese: Burning Spice, if you leave everyone else alone, I'll give myself to-
Burning Spice: DEAL!!!!!!!!! *pounces on her before she can actually finish or explain herself any further... What he does next, I'll let you imagine/decide 😉*
Silent Salt... wouldn't even believe it at first. He'd be astounded. Dumbfounded, really, that White Lily would say such a thing... Is this really her? Is someone forcing her to do this? What is the catch? Enough reassurance from her would convince him that she's being real and sincere and every other word that can be used to describe her deal, and... he accepts it. No other ifs, ands or buts. His White Lily... now, she really IS his White Lily. Forever and ever... He doesn't mind having to keep away from society; that's hardly a punishment. It costs him nothing. And if his White Lily is there with him, he won't even notice the difference...
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a-hazbin-reader · 1 year ago
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I just found your blog today and OUUUGHHH ALL THE X READERS ARE SOOO GOOD? ESPECIALLY THE PLATONIC ONES? WE LIVE FOR THE CHAOTIC Y/N <3 FUCK EM UPPPP <333
If you're looking for ideas, what about a reader that is friends with both Rosie and Alastor and notices that the reader is catching feelings for Alastor? I think she'd be support them, maybe poke Alkastor since he's not likely to get the hint wioth reader not saying it directly lol
Thank you for considering and I hope you're having fun out there! Ur favs loooove yooou <33
This is just so adorable????
Rosie X Reader Headcanons
Plus a little Alastor X Reader too
❌️Romantic
✅️Platonic
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TW: Reader being BULLIED with affection, Rosie interferes with everything, Romantic Alastor X Reader
Description: ☝️⬆️
Rosie claims that matters of the heart are her specialty, and who is anybody to disagree with her??
She is quick to identify what someone is feeling and her friends are no exception to the rule
So when she notices you're starting to act strangely around your mutual friend Alastor...she's quick to figure out what's going on with you
You and Alastor are having drinks together and you're laughing a little too much?? Cheeks a little too pink?? Oh she saw that
Alastor is singing and dancing?? Rosie couldn't help but notice that you were completely enraptured by him, hanging onto every moment
You also happen to have a bad habit of looking away whenever Alastor compliments you, trying to hide a blush perhaps?
Well aren't you just adorable
Now Rosie won't corner you or anything like that, she won't pry the truth out of you even if she's dying to
But she does kind of trick you into admitting you're feelings to her, inviting you out for the day and slyly bringing Alastor up
You're so cute when you're flustered and choking on your drink
"Now now~ There's nothin' to be embarrassed about! Just let Rosie know what you're feelin' and she'll sort it out for ya!"
She's so good to you
"I guess my head has kinda been all over the place lately..."
Rosie slowly gets the truth to come out of you, and boy, is she pleased as punch to find out you're falling in love with Alastor
All Rosie wants is her two friends to be happy and if she can make it happen?? She'll make it happen, she's putting all her cards on the table for this one
She promises you that she won't tell your secret or intervene in any way
But she forgot to tell you that her fingers were totally crossed
Rosie tries to start out small and subtle, even visiting the hotel and getting the others involved
Suddenly everyone is talking about you and how talented you are, how lovely you always look, what you did today
"Y/N, look at that outfit! You look fucking hot today!"
"Uh..thanks Angel..?"
Charlie and Vaggie are always pairing you and Alastor together for anything they can think of
Niffty has suddenly taken to tripping you in front of Alastor but you needn't worry, he always catches you
Husk tries to stay out of it initially but even he gets caught up in it, admitting you two would be good together
Even random people on the street are giving you extra attention whenever you're out with Alastor
Alastor can't seem to get you out of his head all of a sudden, can't shake the intrusive thoughts of you
No matter
When being subtle doesn't work then Rosie switches gears, taking a page out of Niffty's book
No she's not going to trip you
Finds excuses to have you run errands for her, somehow always leading you to bumping into Alastor
And Alastor, ever the gentleman, always walks you back and keeps you company along the way
He finds himself getting more and more fond of you, more so than he was before, he feels a little strange
Finds himself wanting to be closer to you, seeing you in a different light than before, were you always so pretty to look at???
Rosie is pleased with her progress but annoyed by the fact that Alastor still hasn't taken a hint and that you still haven't confessed
That's fine, she's got ways
She starts having flowers and little gifts sent to you when she knows you're with Alastor, faking a secret admirer
Oh he doesn't like that
Alastor feels something ugly twist in his gut when he sees your face flush as you delicately pick at the flowers, flattered
After the fourth gift that was sent to you Alastor started to get more than annoyed, trying to figure out who was taking up your attention
Imagine his surprise when the paper trail leads back to Rosie
Okay now he's legitimately worried about losing you, Rosie is a smooth she-devil
"Alastor! What brings you here-"
"I know what you've been up to, my dear."
Rosie isn't nervous, but she's definitely surprised that he figured her out, she was only trying to help you out
Alastor skips all the pleasantries and immediately just asks her if she's trying to court you
Oh...so he got it wrong...that's hilarious
"Oh my stars~! No no no~!" She literally can't stop the laughter at this point
Now Alastor is confused, why was she pretending to be your secret admirer then?
Rosie tries to lead Alastor to his own conclusion about why she did it but all of a sudden he's turned into an idiot
She really doesn't want to out your secret
But she also has been working towards this for months now
So she blurts out the fact that you're in love with him and that she's been trying to set you both up together this entire time and it feels so good to let it all out and-
Alastor simply holds a hand up to stop her, looking a little overwhelmed by the news but Rosie also detects a hint of relief??
Maybe he did grow an extra soft spot for you after all??
After confirming with Alastor that you did indeed explicitly tell her that you fell for him, Rosie watches him leave
She also refuses to apologize for interfering in his love life, a girl has gotta look out for her friends
She honestly doesn't know which way things are going to go but is pleasantly surprised when you give her a ring the next day
"Rosie! Are you free today? You won't believe what happened last night! I can't wait to tell you!"
They should call her Cupid from now on
She always hounds you for the details on your dates and is always giving Alastor tips on what you would like
"Come now, was snuggling really all you two did after dinner?"
"R-ROSIE-"
"Oh Alastor, you should really get those earrings for Y/N~! They would absolutely sparkle on them~!"
Tells everyone that she's the reason you two are together, she's just so proud of herself
She wants to plan your wedding for you
WOAH
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This one was such a cute idea!! I really hope it's what you wanted!!
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rightfulcutsiepie · 1 month ago
Text
The Mean Girl
You didn't know what to do when you realized you wanted Susie.
And there was no way for you to access her. Because no one could. Rude, difficult to work with, bigger, stronger and a monster in almost every way.
You still want her.
When you two had to work together in class or you passed her in the hallways, she only ever gave you the cold shoulder. Not a head turn, not a look from the eyes, no sort of acknowledgement or anything. Just a brick wall.
You still want her though.
And even when she finally started giving you attention, the shitty kind, you couldn't find it in you to be upset. There's a reason why everything happens.
Susie didn't understand why you couldn't just leave her alone. Why almost every day, you tried to talk to her, look at her, or even tap her shoulder.
And she didn't understand why she didn't want it to stop. Was she...disgusted by your actions and didn't know what to think? Was she just tired? Did she...want it to happen?
And so the only reason she began talking to you was to take her confusing feelings and frustration out on you. Made you do the project work. Made you give the homework answers. Made you keep silent about her chalk habit.
And even then, she couldn't find it in herself to hate you.
Everyday, you would watch her snarl at you when you tried to be kind to her. Smacking your hand away when you offered a writing tool or making fun of you when you brought up any ideas. Her sharp teeth threatening to tear your throat out, her sharp nails scraping against the table, her muscles, her cold and tough skin reminding you who was the threat between the two of you.
Yet, your heart and mind still wanted her.
But when you realized that all these efforts might amount to nothing, you began to pull away right when she began to give in.
And she'll be damned if she lets someone as sweet as you go to waste.
WLW headcanons for GF Susie
Susie loves to hold you. Not just because she likes touching you, but also because you're so warm. But you kind of don't like it because she's always so cold. Your reaction to her hugging you is enough for her to keep doing it again and again.
She loves touching your soft human skin. She always says your so light and squishy. But you say it's obviously because she's twice your size in weight and height so it'd be a given.
She loves when you give her chin scratches and gets nervous and defensive when you lightly pull her tail.
Susie wants to sit out in the rain with you. Go out to eat with you. Lay on the ground with you and just stare up at the sky. Crash on a couch with you, just anything normal. She wants to experience everything she's experienced but with you by her side.
She hates hates HATES when someone flirts with you. You can't stop her temper and neither can 10 men. She'd definitely leave them in an alleyway completely destroyed somewhere if she could. But the last thing she wants is to come back to you with that blood on her hands. Literally.
Will give you flowers every time she goes to see you. EVERY time. Somehow, the bouquets will get bigger and bigger with each time.
If it's Valentine's Day, she will try her best to contain herself, but will eat, at most, 2 chocolates out of the chocolate box. She does want you to have the majority....it's just...who can deny chocolate?
Loves when you say "i love you" to her. It reminds her you're hers and she's yours.
Loves when you rant to her about your problems. Because you two can then share stories between each other.
Snores loudly.
Will not break up with you.
Won't let you break up with her.
If you DO try to break up with her, she will be in a pissy ass mood until you guys make up again. Everyone's getting the shit end of the stick. I doubt you'd stay apart for that long. She hates the thought of someone having what you two have.
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before-it-felt-like-a-sin · 2 months ago
Note
raeee hi, would you do hcs for gf/wife!nat x pregnant!reader?? like i know realistically she wouldn’t want kids but my baby fever is running crazy
anywayy, thank you in advance<3
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Nat x Pregnant! Reader HCs
Warnings: none
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In my mind, the only way Nat would ever have kids is if her partner had them before she met them
You meet when you're already pregnant, about a month along at that point
She struggles with it for a bit, because she's worried that she won't be able to care for a kid, but you remind her that she's been doing better and there's no pressure from you
She does end up deciding to continue to date you, and the two of you get along incredibly well
Tries to be incredibly subtle about how protective she is over you and the baby, but it's super obvious
Whenever she gets the chance, her hands are on your stomach, trying to feel the baby kick
When it eventually does kick her hand, she gets so excited and immediately starts talking to your belly like the baby could respond somehow
As your pregnancy progresses, she gets more and more excited to meet your kid, to the point that she's started thinking about the baby as "our baby" instead of "your baby"
You're cuddling on the couch one day, talking about nursery stuff, when she calls the kid "our baby" and gets immediately embarrassed about it, but she tries to play it cool
You, on the other hand, are extremely emotional over the thought of Natalie thinking of the baby as hers, too, and you start crying happy tears
She freaks the fuck out because she thought you were mad and you have to assure her they're happy tears
After that night, she isn't afraid to get involved in picking out things for the baby, always buying little toys or outfits when she has the money to
You decide she'll move into your place, and the entire time she's telling you to relax, that she can handle moving by herself because she doesn't want you to get hurt
She goes with you to every doctor's appointment, and when you find out the two of you are having a girl, you're both thrilled
Nat spends even more money on little outfits for her, all of them being smaller versions of the clothes she'd wear
once you hit the eight month mark, she's stressed
She packs your hospital bag like a month in advance, worried the baby was going to come earlier than expected
Constantly on guard, watching for any sort of slight change in your behavior, any hint of you being uncomfortable
She starts rubbing your back or stomach whenever she gets the chance, wanting you to be as comfortable as possible
She also starts cooking and cleaning for you, even though she's kind of shit at it
As stressed as she was about you actually going into labor, she's extremely collected when you do
She gets you into the car, grabs your stuff, drives well within the speed limit, not wanting to stress you out any more than you already are
The whole time you're giving birth, she's encouraging you, holding your hand, wiping sweat from your forehead, everything she could possibly do
She is silently freaking out, though, stressed that something will happen that's gonna hurt you or the baby
Luckily, all goes well, and she's so gentle with her, cradling the little girl like she'll break if she's not absolutely still
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bluedandylyon · 2 months ago
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Rewatch Rambles (tm)
Season 1
Flowers for She-Ra
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Ok I do have to admit that this is a really funny moment, but the cool part about most jokes on Spop is that you can actually learn a lot about the characters from them.
Adora legit panics at being in front of an authority figure she has no idea how to please. You can see Angella actually feel really bad for her for a second: she sees that little kid trying desperately trying to stay on the authority figure's good side so she doesn't get punished, but eventually, the hurt she feels over the Horde's actions override this compassion and she dumps it unto Adora, bc she is a product of the Horde.
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I always forget the rebellion is so recent. Like we're talking about a one generation war here, and I also forget that Angella and Micah were the founders. It's kind of a nice nod to Micah wanting to fight against the Horde ever since he was training with Light Spinner, but after seeing what the spell of obtainment did, he went another route to do it after becoming disillusioned with magic.
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My blorbo absolutely blaming herself for the death of Micah even tho she was like 3 when it happened and blaming herself for not knowing when she arrived to bright moon like a day ago. (quite literally a day ago, we know this is her first night in the castle)
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Adora looks absolutely TERRIFIED, and like honestly, Angella is kinda absolutely threatening her here, so I don't blame her. It's just a repeated pattern in Adora's life: authority figures expecting perfection, otherwise she'll get punished for it.
She also internalizes "do not disappoint her as "do not disappoint me "
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Which is one of the things I love about this show. There is SO much miscommunication due to trauma in this show, it's actually insane. Like I've said it before, but the entire conflict in Catra and Adora's relationship can actually be boiled down to how they each misinterpret what the other is saying over and over and over again due to their upbringings.
Another thing I love about this show: how they subtly show character's upbringings and social manners.
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Glimmer freaks the hell out bc Adora just appears on her bed, but Adora doesn't really see the big deal bc there was no privacy in the Horde. It makes sense for her to just go up there. She was also probably like "well Catra and I were best friends, and Glimmer and Bow seem to like me a lot and also I feel really freaking isolated right now, so Glimmer won't mind if I just sleep on the foot of her bed like Catra used to do for me right?"
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This poor girl is just trying so hard to get on Angella's good side and be of service. Knowing about her traumas and how deeply she has internalized that she has no inherent value, these scenes become really hard to watch.
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I'm sorry, as a fandom, we truly do not talk about Catra's mrrp here enough. It is the best noise she ever makes in the show and that's counting all the "hey adora"s and purring. THERE I said it.
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You know what's fucked up? The fact that Catra is so optimistic that SW will finally recognize her worth now that Adora's gone. She misses Adora like crazy, but she's also felt like she's lived under her shadow for so long, that it's also really nice to have a chance to prove herself, even if it isn't enough, bc it's never enough for SW.
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I always wonder what the hell this drawing is??? Is it a drawing Adora made when she was a kid?? Like did she draw this when she was younger as like a dream she had and just glued it to her locker? Or is it a drawing the horde soldiers made mocking Adora and belittling her betrayal? Maybe the latter makes more sense. Either way, lots of questions.
I do like the show, don't tell of "I've told you everything I know about Adora" and then noticing that drawing and crumpling it, bc Catra is still trying to protect Adora by not telling SW about She-Ra.
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The way she FLINCHES :c It breaks my heart to think of how many times Catra has been physically abused.
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AND THEN SHE IMMEDIATELY GOES TO CHECK ON HER WHEN SW's IN PAIN, GOD.
It's a mix of Catra genuinely having a really big heart, but also wanting your caretaker to care about you so badly that you're willing to try just about anything to get that affection. This all happens so fast that it's very unconscious though, Catra can normally pretend that she doesn't care about SW's affection or recognition.
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Loaded ass phrase in the middle of a gay ass buff jock moment, this is peak She-Ra right here.
Ppl don't really understand that when I say "she-ra is the gayest show I have ever watched" I not only mean "the protagonist is a lesbian and she saved the universe by loving her catgirl gf and kissing her" I also mean bc of moments like this. Like this is gay culture. As a certified buff dumb jock, seeing Adora do shit like this and constantly challenge Sea-Hawk to arm-wrestling literally means so much to me bc I be doing that shit unprompted at any given moment.
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Again.
Gay culture.
Also I think about that She-Ra close-up constantly, I love how androgynous she looks here. Absolute gender.
Honestly, rewatching S1, they got away with so much shit. Like pretty much every woman who sees she-ra has a crush on her, it is SO funny. You can tell that after princess prom, the execs were like "please,,, you can't keep getting away with this"
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The implications of this are really interesting actually. If this isn't a myth and it's instead a legend, I wonder if Mara and squadron Grayskull actually did go to beast island at one point and tried to dismantle it or something. Would make for a cool one-shot.
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It’s interesting Glimmer says to concentrate really hard bc it’s the opposite of how she ra gets her healing powers. She gets them by relaxing and moving through her fear, almost entering a meditative state instead of directly focusing on them.
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It's so upsetting how she is unable to recognize how unfair it is for people to be placing all of these responsibilities on her when she discovered she was She-Ra like, yesterday. And Bow and Glimmer eventually recognize this and reassure her, but they're still not the best at it. She will probably always ask herself if they would have become her friends if they met her as Adora, not She-Ra.
She has been raised to be perfect at everything she did, on the first try, or get love and recognition taken away from her, so the only thing she can do is get mad at herself, because she has been taught that she deserves it.
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Rare Adora acting W.
Completely obsessed at how Bow is mimicking her to appear intimidating LMAO
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Glimmer looks so hot in armor, that is all.
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I love the intentional dealing-with-a-homophobic-parent language choice here.
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This is genuinely so sweet and thoughtful of them honestly. It's really painful to see the juxtaposition between Catra's isolation and loneliness with Adora becoming closer with new friends, though. I know she meets Scorpia (who is a bit too enthusiastic), but it's not like she is in a position to truly accept new friendships outside of Adora anyway.
Oops I thought this was going to be a shorter one bc I was like "it's flowers for she-ra, how trauma packed can it be, really?" I should know better, I've watched this shit 10 times dude.
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spiderb00bs · 3 months ago
Note
SURELY since you've done Lottie and Nat with a beefy reader, Your thinking of doing more with Shauna 👀
Please 🙏 😩
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Natalie is soft, Lottie is devoted…
and ♡ Shauna ♡ is completely insane!
𓆩♡𓆪 It doesn't matter if you're tall, strong or with muscles. She's not afraid of you, she knows you'll never lay a finger on her, even if things are quite different when the positions are reversed.
𓆩♡𓆪 Shauna loves to leave marks on you. Bites on your biceps, bites on your shoulders, scratches on your back and abdomen…
𓆩♡𓆪 The girl is simply the biggest savage in the world, all because she knows you can take it!
Which reminds me…
𓆩♡𓆪 Shauna who forces you to play very violent games with her. :/
𓆩♡𓆪 “Playing” cops and robbers and only she can be the cop. Chasing you through the woods, knocking you to the ground, pinning your hands behind your back and asking you pointless questions while keeping you immobilized.
𓆩♡𓆪 Randomly telling you to run. Like, what the fuck is going on?
𓆩♡𓆪 One minute you're sitting carving something out of a piece of wood and the next you're running through the woods after hearing Shauna whisper creepily in your ear.
𓆩♡𓆪 It's kind of her way of showing you that she loves you. After knocking you down, she'll bite and scratch you, only to lie on top of you and hug you afterwards.
𓆩♡𓆪 None of the girls dared to interrupt. They knew that somehow, that twisted, scary game kept Shauna from freaking out or being more of an idiot than she usually was.
𓆩♡𓆪 Shauna uses you as her personal watchdog, obviously.
𓆩♡𓆪 But unlike the other girls, she's proud of it, she feels untouchable. She thinks you two are the invincible couple, everyone's afraid of her, and consequently everyone's a bit afraid of you too (a bit more pity than fear, but that's okay).
𓆩♡𓆪 She won't get off on asking you to punch someone, or scare someone. She doesn't need to, but whenever she's too tired she sends her big puppy.
𓆩♡𓆪 Speaking of puppies, sex with Shauna is the messiest thing you'll ever experience.
𓆩♡𓆪 She calls you a puppy all the time, trying to humiliate you while making you pleasure her.
𓆩♡𓆪 She rides your thigh, or your face. She leaves angry scars on your body every time. Visible enough for the girls to know you're hers!
𓆩♡𓆪 Like Lottie, I think about Shauna on the adult timeline a lot hehehe
𓆩♡𓆪 Shauna who misses you EVERY SINGLE DAY!
𓆩♡𓆪 You and Shauna drifted apart after the rescue. You were too traumatized and sensitive to deal with all the emotions and feelings between you.
𓆩♡𓆪 It ended up that you both just got on with life, Shauna marrying Jeff, and you becoming a first-class bachelor.
𓆩♡𓆪 When the two of you meet up after the girls have received those threats (stupid Jeff), the feelings come back to the surface, and everything seems extremely confusing.
𓆩♡𓆪 It all happens one night when you and the girls are out drinking and talking about all the crazy things that have happened recently and the waitress starts hitting on you.
𓆩♡𓆪 Shauna who doesn't give a damn about all the questions the girls ask when she pulls you away from the table. Locking you two in the bathroom together and making you fuck her into insanity.
𓆩♡𓆪 It's perfect. Almost as if you were both in the wilderness again. The bites, the roughness, the passion.
All of it.
Bonus
𓆩♡𓆪 You, Shauna and Jackie being childhood friends, and little eleven-year-old Shipman always getting jealous when the three of you played at being a family and you were chosen to be the “father”.
𓆩♡𓆪 Jackie always said she was going to be the “mother”. And Shauna always ended up being the “daughter” (which reminds me, I have a lot of thoughts about Jackie and Shauna fighting over Beefy!reader).
𓆩♡𓆪 Shauna getting angry in the middle of the play and dragging you away by the collar and forcing you to play wrestle with her.
𓆩♡𓆪 It always ended up with her on top of you, pinching your arm as you tried to escape her grip.
𓆩♡𓆪 After a while, your mother didn't let you go to Shauna's house anymore, as you always came back with bruises. But you could still go to Jackie's.
𓆩♡𓆪 Shauna was furious about this. Let's say you have to run home after school. Because Shauna Shipman is right behind you.
𓆩♡𓆪 What can I say, I'd love to be her punching bag 𓆩♡𓆪
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slutforleeminho · 2 years ago
Note
heyy, i love your work, i was wondering if you could write a fic based on the song ‘the other woman’ by lana del rey where the reader is the other woman. you could do it about any member :)
this is my first ever request since i’ve been on this app so i hope i did it right 😭
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The other Woman • Hwang Hyunjin
thank you so much! i’m so happy that your first ask was on my acc! i hope you like it<3
warnings: suggestive(no explicit smut), arguing, infidelity, toxic relationship, plot twist at the end;)
"I have to go, beautiful." Hyunjin leaned down to kiss your forehead after pulling his pants up and buttoning them. He placed his hand on the side of your face, gently caressing your cheek with his thumb. "She'll get suspicious if I stay any longer."
This was normal for you, yours and Hyunjin's little routine. He'd take you out to dinner and treat you like a princess, paying for your meals and anything else you could possibly want. Holding your hand and taking you places you've only dreamed of going, then he'd take you home --your home-- and he'd fuck you like there was no tomorrow. And then he'd leave to do the same things with his wife.
You never understood why he pursued you the way he did when he had someone at home to take care of, but you didn't care enough to bring it up. Why would you? You have everything a young woman could ever want; a young, handsome, rich man who gives you anything you want. But only a few times a week. It's okay though, that just gives you plenty of time to do things that you enjoy like reading and going to museums and admiring the beautiful pieces of art that you wished you could just shove in your bag and take home with you.
"Okay," You said with a tired smile. "I'll see you tomorrow."
"Actually, I meant to tell you, I won't be able to come over tomorrow. Apparently, Violet has a family reunion, and she wants me to accompany her." He stated as he pulled his shirt over his head and grabbed his bag from the chair in the corner of your room.
Violet. Such a pretty name for such a lucky woman.
"Oh." Was all you replied with.
"Are you mad at me?"
"No, of course not, these things happen," You knew exactly what you were getting yourself into as soon as you entered this relationship, if it can even be called that. "Just text me when you can. let me know when you want to meet up."
"Of course." He smiled.
He kissed you deeply before he left that night, almost making you forget that he had someone at home waiting for him, and you would be left here, cold and alone.
That text that he promised didnt come until a week later.
"I miss the way you feel wrapped around me." Was all that the message contained. You liked to imagine he was talking about your warm embrace, but you knew that wasn't true. He just wanted to feel an unfamiliar body underneath his.
You weren't sure how you ended up like this. When you first met Hyunjin he was sweet and caring, attentively listened to you while you complained about your bad day at work and massaged away all the soreness in your muscles. You can't remember the last time he's taken you out to dinner or bought you flowers. Now you were just his escape from his nagging wife.
You put up with the constant shame and guilt you felt for being with someone who already had their someone, because you thought that maybe his love for you would grow and that maybe someday Hyunjin would realize that you're the one he wants to spend every waking moment with and not someone else. But as your love for him grew your patience shrunk until one day you snapped.
Hyunjin was collecting his things after he had finished what he came here for, which was to get his dick wet and nothing more. "I won't see you again after tonight."
Hyunjin stopped in his tracks and stared at you with wide eyes. "What do you mean by that?"
"I mean I deserve more than this. I deserve to have someone's full attention and all of their heart." You held yourself together, determined not to cry Infront of him. He doesn't deserve your tears.
"Baby, what are you even talking about?" He knelt down in front of you and placed his hand on your shaking knees. "Of course, I love you."
"No, you don't," You shook your head. "You love my body, you love having someone at your disposal, someone you can use only for your own pleasure. If you loved me even in the slightest there wouldn't be another woman getting the treatment that I crave so fucking much." All the emotion you've kept stuffed away finally revealed itself in the form of a single tear running down your cheek.
It was silent for a long time before Hyunjin spoke. "I'll leave her." You snapped your head up so fast that it hurt. "If that's what you want than I'll do it." The way he worded it as if it was your choice whether his marriage ended or not made you sick to your stomach, but you couldn't deny that you felt a flutter of hope in your chest that maybe this didn't have to end after all. But you're smarter than that. He says this now, but he doesn't mean it, and even if he did you wouldn't be able to sleep at night knowing that a woman who did nothing wrong was out there most likely crying herself to sleep while your warm and safe in the love of her life's arms.
"No, be with her. I'll be okay." That was a complete lie but even after everything he's done, you still don't want him to worry about you.
"Please don't do this to me. I love you and I want to be with you. He held on to your legs tighter.
"Funny, isn't that what you told her when you vowed in front of God and everyone that your love for her would be eternal." His mouth snapped shut and his hands left your legs before he stood. He leaned down and before you could register what was happening his lips were on yours. You immediately reciprocated, leaning forward and pressing yourself closer into him. He was so intoxicating, the way his tongue glided with yours so smoothly had you in a trance; you snapped out of it when he placed his right knee on the bed beside you and started pushing you backwards. "No!" you shoved him away. He stumbled backwards but regained his balance quickly. "I'm not doing this with you, Hyunjin. I can't do this anymore, its wrong."
"Since when do you have morals?" His voice was louder this time, he was pissed.
"I've always had them, but I put them aside because I love you!" It was your turn to stand up and look him square in the face. "But the longer we do this the more I realize that this isn't love, its obsession and its toxic. You never loved me Hyunjin you were curious about infidelity, and I was an easy target because my standards were so fucking low that I actually settled for you."
"Fuck this, I don't have to sit here and listen to you degrade me like this." He grabbed his bag and left, but not without slamming the door behind him.
~
The past month has been hell. After laying in your bed for an entire week you decided to pack up all of Hyunjins things and throw them out, the smell of him that was radiating off of them was making you sick to your stomach every time you walked in the room. And then you went to the mall to treat yourself to a new outfit, you wanted something that didn't have any memories of him attached to it. A trip to your favorite coffee shop followed after that. you hadn't been her in a while and you missed the smell of fresh espresso as you walked in the door.
After getting yourself your favorite -a butter pecan macchiato and a small triple chocolate brownie (they were out of doughnuts)- You sat in the best spot in the entire shop, in a little booth in the corner right next to the window, where you could watch the leaves that had no color left in them fall to the ground only to get trampled over by the passing pedestrians. The leaves reminded you a lot of yourself in a way, but you hoped you never had to fall again.
"Hi," a voice pulled you out of your thoughts. You turned to find yourself looking up at a very handsome young man. His hair was blonde, and it came down to his shoulders. he had an apron on, and a big smile plastered across his face, little freckles decorated his cheeks. "I saw you bought one of the brownies, it's a new recipe I tried, and I wanted to ask if you enjoyed it."
"Oh," You blinked up at him. "Um yeah it's really good, maybe my new favorite."
"Oh, thank god," He let out a sigh of relief. "I was worried that it wouldn't be any good. See a couple of the ingredients I use were sold out, so I had to substitute-" He stooped in the middle of his sentence. "I'm sorry, I'm rambling. I tend to do that a lot."
"No, it's okay," You huffed out a laugh. He was so cute. "Now I'm curious about what ingredients were sold out." You joked.
He smiled widely at you and stretched his hand out. "I'm Felix."
You hesitated but took his hand anyway. "Nice to meet you, Felix."
PART TWO HERE
THANK YOUUU ALL FOR A THOUSAND FOLLOWERS I DONT EVEN KNOW HOW TO FEEL 😭
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avatar-anna · 2 years ago
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Champagne Problems
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so...this is super long, the longest fic i've written in a hot minute. like 18.k words long. i wasn't going to post it until part two was underway, but i'm kind of excited to share it. here is the aftermath of champagne problems...
Part Two
*.*
"Don Perignon, you bought it, no crowd of friends applauded, your hometown skeptics called it Champagne problems."
Your fingers moved across the keys of the grand piano as you mumbled softly to yourself, only loud enough that the voice recorder on your phone would pick up on it. This wasn't your typical method of songwriting, you weren't even sure there was a song to actually write; but the melody had been haunting you for days, pressing against your mind until you finally sat down and played it.
It wasn't often you thought of the events that occurred a year and a half ago. You usually did everything in your power not to think about that night, knowing that nothing ever good came out of dwelling on that particular wrinkle of your past. You only looked forward, sometimes hoping that if you didn't think about what happened, your memories of the worst night of your life would eventually disappear from your mind altogether.
But there was something about this melody that brought that night to the forefront of your memory. You'd played it over and over on the piano for a few minutes, waiting for the words to come. Your mind kept circling back to the past, and after trying to avoid it, you finally let emotion win out. No one was in the studio with you anyway, it would be safe to unlock that particular box. Just for a few minutes.
"She would've made such a lovely bride, what a shame she's fucked up in the head," you said to yourself, the last part coming out as an afterthought. You laughed a little to yourself, remembering the disapproving stares and the whispers behind your back that people always thought went unnoticed by you. "But you'll find the real thing instead. She'll patch up your tapestry that I shed."
Despite knowing that leaving your would-be fiance was the right choice for you, breaking up with him was the hardest thing you'd ever done. It still hurt to remember that night, to recall the look of absolute devastation on his face when you stopped him from reaching into his pocket for the little velvet box you knew was in there. He didn't deserve to be wrecked so thoroughly, especially by someone like you. He had been sweet and kind and gentlemanly. He treated you like a princess and defended you to his family when they didn't approve. He was everything a man should've been to you and more.
And all you could do in return was prove his family right.
You stopped murmuring lyrics for a moment, letting that last thought float through the empty room on somber notes. You thought about your ex now, wondering where he was now and hoping he was well. You hoped he was in love and happy, that he'd forgotten all about you. He deserved all the best things that love could grant a person. You wanted that for him. You wanted someone who had the capacity for the kind of love he wanted to give.
Repeating the last few lines again, the next few thoughts came pouring out of you, the words carrying a bittersweet taste to them.
"Your mom's ring in your pocket, her picture in your wallet, you won't remember all my Champagne problems."
The song tapered off soon after that, and you realized there was nothing left in you to say. You felt lighter afterwards, as if pushing some of those long-forgotten memories out of you and onto the grand piano eased the weight you'd been carrying around on your shoulders for the last eighteen months. Quickly stopping the recording, you set a reminder on your phone to listen to it tomorrow and write down everything you'd said. The recording itself was lengthy, long pauses stretching between lyrics as you worked through your memories and attempted to vocalize them. Hopefully something was there to actually mold into verses and a chorus, if not, it was a rather odd but surprisingly satisfying therapy session.
Gathering your things into the bag at your feet, you stood up from the piano, stretching your arms above your head. It was easy to get lost in a good melody, but your poor body always paid the price if you spent too much time bent over a guitar or piano.
It was as you stretched that you realized someone was at the door. He was leaning against the doorframe, watching as you shouldered your bag and slipped your shoes back on your socked feet. He didn't say anything as you walked over to him, just stepped out of the way so you could walk out of the studio. Harry normally wasn't this quiet, in fact, he could be quite the chatterbox if the mood struck him. But his silence told you he'd probably heard more of your session than you would've liked. Because one thing Harry liked to do in all his chattering was pepper you with questions about yourself, which was annoying since you were constantly trying to have him not get to know you.
"Coffee?" was all he said as you walked toward the elevator at the end of the hall. The sleeve of his patterned sweater brushed against your arm, and you resisted the urge to lean into him. He always wore the coziest clothes when in the studio, and it made you want to walk just a little bit closer to his side, for no other reason than the feel of soft material on your arm and not the person wearing them.
Nodding, you said, "Sure."
Harry qucikly pressed the button when you reached the elevator, and you couldn't help but laugh a little. In the time you'd spent not getting to know him, you discovered that he was the kind of person that just had to press the elevator buttons. It didn't matter how many people he was with, it was like he took joy in something as simple as getting to press a button and watch it light up beneath his finger. He'd actually speed-walked to get ahead of you a couple times just so he could press the down button. It was kind of annoying, and perhaps a little childish, but you'd surprisingly grown to find it endearing. A quirk of Harry's that just made him who he was.
The ride down the elevator was quiet, and it wasn't until you were out on the street that he finally spoke. "I'm thinking about getting a pet."
You'd been bracing yourself for the inevitable questions about the song you'd been recording, and when they didn't come, your shoulders relaxed almost imperceptibly, though you were sure Harry noticed. "Really?"
"Yeah. All my friends are disgustingly in love," Harry said with a playful shudder. "I'm feeling like a third wheel most days, so I thought I would seek companionship of the furry variety. Wait, that came out wrong. I didn't mean—"
You chuckled at his stuttering, at the flush creeping up his neck and warming his cheeks. "I know what you mean," you said, sparing him any more embarrassment. "So what are you thinking then? Dog? Cat? Hamster?"
"Well, you see, that's the thing," he said, quickly recovering from his chagrin. "I'm not sure I have the time necessary to devote to training a puppy, but I'm also worried about getting a cat and it absolutely hating me, and..."
You listened as Harry explained in great detail the pros and cons of each kind of domestic animal one could have. He spoke animatedly with his hands, looking at you with those big green eyes of his, as if to make sure you were following his train of thought.
You never planned on befriending Harry, and even now you weren't sure that whatever was going on between you was considered a friendship. You'd always been the type to keep to yourself, especially after what happened with your ex. You'd not only lost him after the break up, but friends too, friends who thought that what you did to your ex was despicable and reprehensible and not worth keeping a friendship over, picking sides when you hadn't realized there were any. It hurt to lose so many people in one fell swoop, and you decided soon after that you were better off alone. Except for your brothers of course, but all of you kept so busy that it was hard to keep track of one another on a good day.
Outside of them, you realized it was hard to hurt someone when there was no one around you to hurt.
But Harry was different. You'd seen him around the building where you worked on your songs—in the hallways, waiting for the elevator (after pushing the button, of course), at the vending machine, on your way out of the studio or while he was entering it to start his session. The first thing you noticed was that he was never alone. Well, that wasn't entirely true. The first thing you really noticed was his smile, how it lit up his entire face and showcased the most adorable dimples you'd ever seen. But since you refused to admit that, the first thing you noticed was that he was never alone.
Harry was always coming and going with one or two or sometimes three people around him. He was always engaged in some kind of conversation, his head always turned as he listened aptly to what his friend was saying. It seemed so odd to you that he was hardly ever by himself. It was like a foreign language to you, and you imagined your constant solitude felt the same to him.
"Anytime you want to weigh in here would be great."
"If you want a pet, get one," you said simply.
Harry rolled his eyes as he held open the door to the coffee shop a couple blocks down the street from the building where you both worked, as if he was expecting anything other than your usual direct way of speaking. "If you don't keep this conversation going, then I'm going to have to ask about that incredibly depressing song you were working on, so please, indulge me in the great pet debate of twenty-eighteen."
For the most part, Harry was a pretty easy going guy. He had no problem carrying a conversation, and knew when not to pry. As the months went by, though, he knew how to get you to talk, how to find trap doors in the fortified walls you kept around yourself before you even knew they were there. It would be frustrating if his questions didn't always come with an endearing smile.
So you shrugged, eager to steer clear of any topics regarding your past. "I don't know, I'm a little biased. I've always been a dog person. Buddy's my best friend."
"First of all, I'm offended by the fact that I am not your best friend, and second, since when do you have a dog?"
The conversation paused while you and Harry went up to the counter to order you coffees. Both of you went there enough that the staff knew what you liked—dirty chai for you and an americano for him. It also meant you didn't have to deal with the barista having a mini-freak out at the realization that Harry Styles was in their coffee house. People tended to interrupt your conversations with Harry regularly—on the street, in line for coffee, at the table—but he never seemed bothered by it. He always smiled and indulged in a couple minutes of conversation and the occasional picture before waving goodbye. He always apologized to you afterward, but after the first couple times it happened, you waved him off. None of it was actually his fault, and seeing him interact with his fans became something you actually enjoyed watching. And it was perhaps a very small reminder as to why you preferred to just write songs for other artists, not perform them. You didn't need that kind of attention. For Harry, he seemed to come alive like a flower in bloom.
You? You would probably just wilt.
When you and Harry sat down with your drinks, he raised his brows for you to continue. Wrapping your hands around your cup, you shrugged again. "I've had Buddy for about a year now."
"What kind of dog?"
"Mostly pitbull, I think. I found him in an alley behind a restaurant once, and I know what shelters do to pitbulls, so I adopted him."
You'd come to think of the whole thing as Buddy finding you.
"And you named him Buddy?"
"Yeah, I don't know, after Buddy Holly I guess." You'd grown up listening to classic rock because your brothers did, and the name just kind of made sense to you. And he was just so cute, he was your little buddy. Big buddy now, you supposed. You thought he deserved the cutest name for the cutest boy in your life.
The rest of your time in the coffee house was filled with chatter, mostly from Harry. He talked a little more about the Great Pet Debate, then about the project he and his team was working on. An album, though they were only just getting started seeing as Harry just came back from tour. He tried peppering you with the occasional question, knowing if he asked too many you'd clam up and shut down. It was almost like Harry knew that you were fighting getting to know him, but that it wasn't just him, it was everyone. He was patient with you for some reason, though, seemingly content to chip away at the brick walls around you. Even if all he had was a spoon.
"So...What were you working on at the studio?" Harry finally asked.
You knew it was coming, so answering didn't seem so daunting. "I'm not really sure. The melody had been in my head for days, and I finally decided to play around with it."
"A perfect non-answer from Y/n L/n, everyone," Harry said, though you knew he was joking. His eyes were crinkled with mirth as he hid behind his cup, his brows raising to give you a knowing look.
Nothing about your past was easy to talk about, so you just didn't. After your breakup, you didn't even tell your brothers the finer details, not wanting to relive it or face all their questions. It all brought you an overwhelming sense of shame and despair. But maybe there had been something cathartic about your session today and it left you feeling lighter and open because you found yourself sharing more with Harry.
"It...reminded of me and my ex, so I kind of just let it all out. I'm not even sure what I was doing constituted as songwriting, but," you looked down at your mug. "The melody dredged up some old memories, I guess."
"It sounded painful," Harry said, his voice taking on a soft, sincere tone.
You knew he meant well, but the sympathy made you skittish. "It's fine. It was a long time ago."
"Right, of course," Harry said, catching on to your mood change. "Well, um, my friends and I are having a little get-together of sorts this Saturday. You should come."
"A party?"
"No. A get-together. Very different," Harry corrected.
It made sense, the last time Harry tried to invite you to a party his friend was throwing, you politely declined, claiming they weren't really your thing. They weren't, but it was more that having friends wasn't really your thing.
You wanted to say no again, but when you met Harry's eyes, something in you hesitated. His expression was open, earnest, like he would genuinely be upset if you said you wouldn't come. You didn't quite understand why he wanted to spend time with you so much. Maybe you felt a little bad for always pushing him away, or maybe you were actually warming up to him.
"I, um...that might be fun," you said, not sure if it was nerves or excitement swimming in your belly.
The way Harry's face lit up made saying you would come worth it.
After a few more minutes at the coffee house, you and Harry went your separate ways, but not before he made you promise to join you on one of your morning walks with Buddy Holly. Something must've been in the air today, because you found yourself nodding before heading down the street away from him.
On your way home, you got a phone call from your oldest brother Evan. "Hey, Evan. How's life treating you in the Big Apple?"
"Just fine. It'd be a lot better if I got to see my kid sister more often. Are you still coming for Thanksgiving?"
Of your three brothers, Evan was the one who checked up on you the most. Perhaps that was the nature of being the oldest of four, but he had always been the most responsible, the one to keep you and your other brothers in line. Well, mostly your other brothers. But Evan had always looked out for you. He was the only one you told at length about your breakup. You'd confided in him all your life, and he was coincidentally the only one of your brothers you could count on not to go and beat up on your ex or his family.
"Flight's booked and everything," you told him. "Not sure if I can swing a trip to the lake house, though."
Despite your less than ideal upbringing, you and your brothers had all done pretty well for yourselves. No thanks to your parents, seeing as you all shared a dad who never liked to be with the same woman twice. But you and your brothers all stuck together through thick and thin, supporting and celebrating and sticking together despite the differing parentage between the four of you. And now you were all scattered, your brothers Andrew and Hayden were professional athletes and Evan was a bigshot lawyer. Once you moved out of your hometown, you really only saw your brothers for holidays. And the occasional surprise visit from Andrew, though that hadn't happened in a while.
"That's okay," Evan said. "Next time."
"Next time," you agreed. Then, "How's the family?"
"Good. Sammy's gotten so big. And Laura's already showing."
You grinned as you imagined Evan's family. He deserved a happy ending with a loving family after raising you and the idiots you called brothers. "Another team member for the family football game."
"Speaking of the family football game," Evan said, and you mentally cursed yourself. "Laura's been dying to know if she should set an extra spot at the table."
Immediately, your mind went to Harry, but you quickly whisked that thought away. "Nope. Unless Hayden's got a new girlfriend."
"Really? No one?"
You narrowed your eyes even though Evan couldn't see your expression. "Why are you fishing? Gossip is Andy's thing."
"What? I'm not fishing!" Evan spluttered, but you just scoffed and waited. Evan might've been a shark in the courtroom, but he'd always been terrible at lying to you. "Fine. Laura was reading one of her gossip magazines, and you know I don't pay attention to those, but you know, I might have seen someone who looks an awful lot like you pictured alongside a former boy band member."
Well, shit. You knew that was a reality of being Harry's acquaintance, but you'd always done your best to not pay any attention to it. So far it had done a good job, but now it was coming to bite you in the ass.
"It's nothing, Evan. He's an artist. I'm a songwriter. We work in the same building," you said.
"Fine! Fine," Evan said, and you could just picture him holding his hands up in surrender the way he'd done since you were a teenager. "I just thought I'd ask now and try to soften the blow. I'll just leave you to the wolves."
"Damn you, Evan," you muttered. Evan was the easy brother. It was Andrew and Hayden you had to look out for. They would interrogate you relentlessly, or worse, squeeze the life out of you until you caved. Sighing deeply through your nose, you said, "I will ask if Harry has plans for that weekend. And that is it."
"See? That wasn't so hard!"
You rolled your eyes. "I'll talk to you later."
"You love me!" Evan called just before hanging up.
The call ended just as you pulled up to your apartment. You sat back with a huff, marveling at the strings your brother managed to pull from thousands of miles away. But deep down, you knew Evan was just looking out for you. After everything that happened eighteen months ago, he'd been keeping a close eye. As close an eye as he could all the way from New York. But that was how things worked between you and your brothers. You all looked out for each other, and your older brothers acted as personal security guards to any and everyone who so much as looked at you the wrong way. It was both endearing and very annoying.
Very annoying. Now you had to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. Evan was so going to get it.
*.*
On Saturday, you found yourself standing in front of your mirror longer than you normally would've. Harry had used the term "get-together" as a means to ease your nerves, but now that the dreaded day had come, you realized you weren't sure what that meant in terms of dress code. Was this thing laid-back? What if casual still meant dressy to Harry and his friends? Harry usually walked around the studio in jeans and faded t-shirts, but he was still a celebrity. He could see this as an opportunity to dress up.
You looked at all the clothes spread out in your room. You'd changed an embarrassing amount of times now, but nothing seemed fitting for the occasion. I could always text him, you thought, biting your nail as you surveyed the tornado of clothes around you. Harry had given you your number earlier this week so he could text you his address. You hadn't wanted to, as it would open the flood gates for conversation outside the studio, but you eventually gave it up when he stared blankly at you after offering your email as an alternative.
Before you could think too long about it, you picked up your phone and sent a quick text. Before you even had a chance to set it down, Harry sent a reply.
Harry S: We're just chilling at my house. Dress as comfortably as you'd like :))
Well, that wasn't helpful at all, you thought, but didn't say to Harry. You went back to rummaging through your pile of clothes, creating a spot for Buddy when he ambled into your bedroom from the kitchen. In the end, you settled on something simple: jeans, platform shoes, and a colorful fleece jacket over a plain shirt. It felt silly to have wasted so much time on your wardrobe when all you were doing was going to see Harry. And his friends. And that was...intimidating.
The anxiety of meeting Harry's friends, of meeting anyone new, crept through you. You didn't want to go and face the inevitability of disappointing them. Your track record with friends was pretty abysmal. But you found yourself kissing Buddy's head and promising you wouldn't be gone long, and then you were getting in your car and plugging in the address Harry had given you.
The music playing in your car calmed you some. Etta James' voice was both familiar and comfortable, welcome feelings as you pulled up to Harry's house. House was a bit of an understatement, though. Maybe a villa, or an estate. The LA version of those sprawling castles that were all over Europe. Your shoulders were tense as you cruised up the long driveway, though your anxiety eased a bit when you saw that had seen about as much life and mileage parked up front as yours did.
Music was playing inside the house, you could hear the trill of soft guitar and the low hum of a male voice from outside, and you worried if anyone would be able to hear you as you knocked on the door. Thankfully, you only stood on Harry's doorstep for a minute or two, then Harry's familiar grin greeted you.
"You made it!" Harry said, pulling you over the threshold and in for a quick side hug. He looked down at you for a moment, his cheeks flushed and green eyes bright, perhaps from drinking. He shook his head a little before pulling you further into the house. "Come in, come in, everyone is just through here."
Harry led you further into his home, giving you a chance to look around. Despite the grandeur of the outside, Harry's house was actually quite cozy and inviting. Everything was in warm tones, and potted plants and bookshelves piled high with a mix of books and records with titles you couldn't read from this distance. His house looked actually lived in, which couldn't be said for some of the other celebrity homes you'd been in. It didn't happen often as you preferred to work alone, but you occasionally dabbled in writing sessions with other artists. Their homes looked much more modern, and much more cold, than Harry's did.
"My home in London is much smaller," Harry said, noticing your craned neck. Then he shrugged, looking a little sheepish. "But I liked the look of this place. It reminded me of a house I go to in Italy most summers."
"It's beautiful," you said. "I've always wanted to go to Italy."
"You've never been?"
You shook your head, admiring the arch leading into an open kitchen. "I was supposed to go for—"
For my birthday, you couldn't bring yourself to say. Gavin had planned a summer trip to Italy for your birthday, but that never happened. You surprised yourself by revealing that much, and by the way Harry's eyes lit up, you'd taken him by surprise too.
But he didn't press you to finish your thought. He just smiled and led you further into the kitchen. "Come on. You need a drink."
Harry talked while he fixed up your drink. He'd tried to persuade you to take a shot of tequila with him, his eyebrows wiggling up and down, a look on his face that you'd seen one too many times on your brothers when they were trying to stir up trouble. You declined with a laugh, opting for a glass of wine instead. Maybe a boring choice, Harry definitely thought so as he teased by saying, "Booooring!" but you needed to be sharp, and tequila tended to have the opposite effect, so red wine it was.
"Everyone's through here. I hope you like games because Kid brought a new one over and everyone has become quite invested."
Games? Is that what Harry Styles did on his evenings off? Play board games with his friends? Before you could ask, Harry led you into his living room, where everyone was in fact sitting around a rather spacious coffee table, a board game and playing cards spread out around it. It was a small group of about five or six. For some reason you expected more people, even though Harry said otherwise. They were all talking amongst themselves, talking strategy, you presumed, as you recognized the game as one of those territory-winning ones.
All the talking stopped, however, when Harry introduced you to the group.
You felt their eyes on you, judging, picking you apart where you stood. You began to curl in on yourself, wilting at the attention. Involuntarily, you took a step back, but Harry's hand was on your lower back, warm and comforting against you. You should've pulled away, but you didn't, thankful for at least some kind of familiarity among all the new.
It had been so long since you'd had to meet new people in a non-professional setting. You'd met with producers and artists and other industry people all the time, but there was always a wall of professionalism between you and them. You knew how to navigate that space with ease, but here, where people were sitting on pillows and holding playing cards, where you stood as the outlier among what was clearly a tight-knit group, you felt very much like a fish out of water. A fish in space.
"H—Hello," you managed to say, giving everyone a small wave.
One person got up. A young woman with short brown hair, winged eyeliner marking the corners of her eyes. Her smile was surprisingly warm, but what had your eyes widening even more was when she pulled you in for a hug, squeezing tight.
"I'm Sylvia," she said. "It's so nice to finally meet you."
"Finally?"
You probably shouldn't have said that, but you weren't expecting such a warm welcome.
"Harry talks about you constantly. I swear sometimes he purposely keeps you from us."
"That is not—That is not true," Harry said, speaking to you for a moment. He sounded serious, but his eyes were filled with amusement as if he was used to Sylvia's teasing.
Everyone else introduced themselves, and you tried to keep a smile on your face as you committed their names to memory. They were all part of Harry's "team" except for Sylvia—writers, producers, musicians. "And you?" you asked her as she pulled you down to sit next to her. Sylvia had insisted you be on her team while you learned how to play. She seemed nice, eager to get to know you, but you didn't trust it. Not yet.
"I'm a full-time mom most days, and a part-time life coach to this one," Sylvia joked. She seemed too young to be a mother, but you supposed they came in all shapes and sizes. "But I'm Harry's nutritionist. And friend when he's not being a pain in the ass."
There was a wry grin on the young woman's face that told you she was fond of Harry, and fond of teasing him, if said grin grew when Harry said, "Hey," was anything to go by. It eased your mind a bit, her kindness and obvious fondness for Harry. She spoke animatedly as she caught you up on the rules of the game and gossip from her yoga class. "They're all in love with that one, of course. Can't take him anywhere," she said with a nod in Harry's direction.
When you agreed to join Harry tonight, you figured you would spend your time with him. But Sylvia kept you occupied most of the evening, and he and his friends were rather invested in the game. You were content to watch, enjoying the playful bickering and shouts of surprise and celebration. It was interesting to see how they all interacted with each other. Harry and his friends sat and drank around his coffee table while you nursed your drink, observing with the sweet feeling of nostalgia swimming through your veins.
"Y/n?"
You jumped in your spot on the floor, your wine sloshing around in your glass a little. Thankfully, nothing poured out. You would've been mortified if you'd spilled red wine all over Harry's most likely exorbitantly expensive carpet.
Eyes flicking to a man with short blond hair, you said, "Sorry?"
Kid, you were pretty sure his name was, asked his question again. "Did you first start writing here in LA?"
"Uh...no. Nashville, actually," you said. "I lived in Nashville for a while before moving out here. But I...grew up in a small town just outside."
"You never told me that," Harry said, sounding both intrigued and a little hurt that you'd never shared that with him before.
Emboldened by your near-empty glass, you said, "You never asked."
That earned a few chuckles and a raised brow from Harry as if he'd just accepted a challenge you hadn't meant to create. But you read that look in his eyes with ease. Any look was quite easy to read from Harry. He was expressive, an open book. He was going to take this as an opportunity to ask you all the questions he'd been witholding.
Throwing back the rest of your wine, you avoided his eye and ignored the excited flip in your belly.
*.*
If it wasn't for your dog, you were pretty sure you wouldn't be able to keep up with Harry Styles and his impossibly long gait.
He'd kept to his word, insisting that he join you on one of your walks with Buddy Holly. It wasn't until a few days after you went to his house for the first time, but one morning before you usually headed into the studio, he texted and asked if he could join you for your morning walk with your dog. It took some convincing, which really only meant a series of uninterrupted texts until you finally relented.
Buddy took to Harry immediately, of course, though that wasn't a surprise, seeing as your dog was friendly with everyone. But it meant a lot to you that he seemed to like Harry so much. Buddy was a rescue, and you couldn't imagine the awful things he'd been through before you'd given him a proper home.
Now he walked on the sidewalk excitedly, pulling you on his leash as his stubby tail waved around wildly. Harry walked beside you, his curly hair pulled back with a little black claw clip, some of it sticking up in a cute tuft. As he walked beside you, you took the opportunity to study him. There was a little scruff on his cheeks and jaw, creeping down the nape of his neck. His jaw was strong and angular, his cheekbones sharp. Harry really was beautiful. You understood why so many people went so crazy for him.
"See anything you like?"
Warmth flushed your cheeks as you quickly looked ahead, even if the damage was already done. Harry rarely, if ever, caught you staring at him, mostly because it didn't happen often. But in the last few weeks, you'd found yourself admiring him more and more. The movements he made with his hand as he told a story, the mischievous glint in his eye when he made you laugh, the way his arms moved beneath his shirt, how his lips curled around a smile. You cataloged each mannerism, each vocal inflection, and after just a few weeks following that night at his house with his friends, you felt like you knew him quite well.
Shrugging, you feigned nonchalance as your eyes darted back to Buddy, who had stopped to sniff a tree.
You could feel Harry's gaze on you, but you tried not to squirm. His gaze pricked your skin, making you feel things you absolutely shouldn't have been feeling. It was uncomfortable and exhilarating, and you didn't like how much you were warming up to him.
Used to your wordless answers, Harry moved on. "You're making me rethink my decision to get a cat."
"You decided, then?"
"I think I'm more of cat person," Harry said. "Well that, and I think I've found the one, but I'm worried about all the traveling."
"It can stay with me," you said, eyes widening when you did. But it was true, you realized. You were close enough to Harry to promise that kind of thing.
"Well, in that case," Harry said, and you finally looked over to him.
His grin was wide as he looked down at you, and though you couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses, you knew they were more than likely squinted with mirth. You liked that smile, you realized. It was uninhibited, full of warmth and good intentions. You wanted to trust it, to give in to the friendship Harry was offering.
But you couldn't. Harry didn't deserve the abysmal companionship you offered in return, and you felt bad for leading him along when you knew you'd eventually fuck things up. You always did.
Your phone buzzing thankfully pulled you away from your thoughts. Looking at it, you saw a text from your brother, Hayden. You think Laura will be cool with a few football players in her house for Thanksgiving? it said, and you shook your head as you typed a quick reply, a small grin spreading across your face.
Hayden was only going to be in town the day of Thanksgiving, as he had a game the day after. You didn't think he would make it at all, seeing how full his schedule usually was, but he managed to squeeze it in. Apparently his game wasn't too far from Evan's house. As long as he, and his teammates now, didn't drink too much, they would be just fine.
You: I don't think so. Laura might put y'all to work around the house though.
Hayden: Seems fair.
Hayden: Are YOU bringing anyone home?
Hayden: Because I can sit you next to one of my teammates.
Hayden: I take that back. Forget I said that. No teammate of mine is going near my sister.
Rolling your eyes, you stuffed your phone in your back pocket. Harry was looking at you with a curious gaze, and you scrambled to explain yourself. "My brother," you said. "Apparently he's inviting some of his football buddies to Thanksgiving this year."
"Does he play at university?" Harry asked. You could almost hear the eagerness in his voice at the opportunity to learn more about you, and while sharing in general made you squirm, your brothers were fairly easy to talk about.
"He did. He's in the NFL now."
"Oh nice You must be—Wait what's his name?"
"Hayden?"
Harry stopped walking for a moment. When you tried to stop too, Buddy protested, tugging the leash, and the wrist you had wrapped around it pulled uncomfortably. Murmuring a quick apology, Harry kept walking, keeping pace with your energetic puppy.
"Your brother is Hayden L/n?"
You nodded. "I'm guessing you've heard of him then?"
A bark of laughter slipped from Harry's lips. You'd never seen him so caught off guard before. It was strange, but also a relief to know that someone as steady as Harry wasn't so unflappable all the time.
Rubbing a hand over his mouth, he said, "I think everyone has heard of him. Any other famous brothers I should know about?"
"I don't know how you quantify fame, but my other brother is in the NHL. He plays for a team on the east coast."
Andrew was the youngest of your family. Despite that, he still considered himself your older brother, which had always been annoying growing up, especially when you were taller than him for a few years. He was rather sweet for someone so aggressive on the ice. He spent a lot of time with his mom, but was still close to you, Evan, and Hayden. It was hard not to be when you all shared the same deadbeat dad.
Outside of Evan, you probably talked to Andrew the most. You were the closest in age and grew up going to school together, and while his main focus was hockey, whenever he was in town, he'd go with you to concerts to see whatever indie band you were into or treat you to tickets to a show at the arena he played for.
"You have a third, right?" Harry asked, and you weren't even surprised that he remembered even though you were sure you'd only mentioned it once or twice.
"Evan. He's a lawyer in New York, but he lives in Connecticut with his wife and daughter," you said.
Now would be the perfect opportunity to invite Harry to Thanksgiving. You were looping back around on the trail, heading back to the park entrance where you'd met Harry this morning. Evan would pester you about it until you did, or worse, get Hayden and Andrew involved. You just had to throw it out there, be as casual as possible. Easy. You were all about being casual.
"So, um, he—Evan—he, um, said if I wanted I could invite a friend to Thanksgiving. If I wanted to."
"Oh yeah?" You weren't looking at him, but you could hear the grin in his voice.
Swallowing thickly as you willed your cheeks not to flush, you continued to look at Buddy as you spoke. "You probably already have plans, but I just thought I would ask if you wanted to come. Laura, Evan's wife, is a great cook, and it's usually pretty low-key until football gets turned on. But no offensive aunts or uncles or anything like that. Just us."
That was definitely too many words, but the amused look in Harry's eyes didn't feel antagonizing. "I would love to, but um, I already promised my mum I would go home that week."
"Oh." You didn't mean to sound disappointed. It was a good thing that Harry was going home to see his mother. And him meeting your brothers for the first time all at once probably would've scared him out of talking to you in the studio, so really it was for the best. It was for the best. "That's okay. You must be excited to go home. How long has it been?"
"London? Not too long, but I'm headed back to Manchester, and my mum has not been shy in letting me know that it's been too long since..."
You listened to Harry the rest of the walk back, trying to fight off the disappointment gnawing inside you that he'd said no. You didn't want that feeling in you. You wanted to be indifferent. It's for the best. You repeated it over and over until you convinced yourself it was true.
*.*
"You had a speech, you're speechless. Love slipped beyond your reaches. And I couldn't give a reason, Champagne problems."
You scribbled in your notebook, crossing out words from the original recording and replacing them with better ones. You hadn't planned to go back to this song. After recording it on your phone, you figured it wouldn't see the light of day again. But something kept bringing you back to it. So you worked on it between other projects, playing around with the lyrics and melody in small doses so that the past wouldn't overwhelm you.
Guilt seeped into your bones as you recalled what happened eighteen, almost nineteen, months ago. Sometimes you wished you could forget everything you'd done, but other times you decided being forced to remember was part of your penance for causing so much pain. Gavin was a good man. He was so kind and so smart, he didn't have a cruel bone in his body. And you'd taken his goodness, you'd welcomed all his kindness, and crushed it in your hands.
Wiping away a tear, you shut your notebook definitively. Your session in the studio was far from over, but you were done for the day.
On your way out, you kept your head down, not wanting anyone to see your watery eyes. You could feel the tears building, and you hoped you could at least make it to your car before you turned into a mess. It was so hard sometimes. Some days you felt great. You would write good songs, take Buddy for a walk and teach him a new trick, you would get coffee with Harry and laugh, and everything would be fine. But then there were days where the mere thought of the past sent you careening off course, leaving you with nothing but the intrusive thoughts you thought you'd learned how to keep at bay.
Today happened to be one of those days, and you hoped you could escape and wallow in self-pity unnoticed. But before you could even make it to the elevator, you bumped into something solid and warm. Arms wrapped around you to hold you steady before you could spring back, and against your better judgment, you looked up, an apology poised on your lips.
"Y/n, are you okay? What's wrong?"
You should've known that you would be unlucky enough to run into Harry on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Blinking rapidly, you shook your head and stepped out of his grasp, though that didn't make you feel any better. "I'm fine."
"You can talk to me," Harry insisted. His brows furrowed with concern, but he didn't come any closer. There was a bag slung over his shoulder and a hat covering up his hair, with only a few stray curls sticking out beneath it. He looked like he was just going into the studio for a session.
"I'm fine, I promise," you lied, not wanting to be the reason he was late for studio time. "I'm just leaving for the day."
You tried to step around Harry, but his hands fell down on your shoulders. His gaze burned, but you couldn't make yourself look him in the eye. You knew the moment you saw the sympathy swimming in them you'd burst into tears.
"Please let me go," you said, but it came out as more of a squeak, your voice breaking on the last word.
To your surprise, Harry did, and even though that was what you'd asked for, what you wanted, you somehow felt worse. Shuffling around him, you mumbled a quick goodbye and bypassed the elevator, not wanting to wait awkwardly for it to come up while he was still in the hall. It wasn't until you finally got in your car that you let everything out, all the guilt and loneliness and self-loathing that you kept bottled up regularly.
So often you were able to pretend the past didn't exist. But then there were days where you were almost slapped in the face by the consequences of your actions. Negative thoughts followed you all the way home and into your bed. Not even hiding under the covers kept you from feeling everything all at once. Your mind spun as you thought of Gavin, of his elated grin crumpling into a look of betrayal as you told him you were ending it.
You remembered every detail from that night. The brand of Champagne Gavin bought for the would-be occasion, the woodsy cologne he wore, the looks on his friends' and family's faces as you hurried down the stairs to leave the party, unable to bear their shame and disapproval, or the heart you'd broken on the landing in his family's mansion.
You didn't know he was going to propose until mere moments before it happened. You had only been seeing Gavin for a few months, and things were good. He made you happy, and you liked having someone to go through life with. He liked to shower you with expensive gifts, for no other reason than to show you he cared and because he could. You didn't have the same kind of wealth he or his family did, not even with the substantial amount of money you made as a successful songwriter. But you'd write him poems and leave them places you knew he'd find them and looped your arm through his at company parties. Things were good.
Every year, Gavin's family hosted a Christmas party, and last year was the first time you'd been invited. You hadn't wanted to go, mostly because in the two weeks leading up to the party, you realized you weren't in the same place Gavin was emotionally, and you weren't sure you ever would be. But Gavin insisted, promising it would be fun and he wouldn't abandon you to his family, who had been nothing but cold since the moment he'd introduced them to you. So you went, sipping on Champagne in a glass made of crystal and wondering if the guilty pit at the bottom of your stomach would ever stop growing.
It was a couple hours into the party when you'd stumbled on a conversation between Gavin's mother and sister, one that made your blood run cold with dread.
"Did Gav really ask you for your ring?" his sister asked.
His mother nodded gravely. "He wants to do it tonight."
"What? That's ridiculous! They've barely been together a year!"
"I'm sure she would make a lovely bride, she's beautiful, I'll give her that," his mother conceded, but you could hear the disdain in her voice loud and clear. "It's just a shame that she's—"
"Fucked in the head?"
"Larissa! Language!"
"What? She is! She's a total basket case, and everyone can see it but him. She'll never make him happy. How could she? Putting a ring on it doesn't change a thing. Gavin would have a psych patient, not a wife. He deserves better."
The rest of the night was a blur, but you knew you couldn't wait. You didn't want to break up with Gavin on the night of his family's Christmas party, but if he was going to propose, you couldn't let him. The hurt would be so much worse if you had to slide the ring off your finger a week or two after the proposal.
Gavin called you for weeks afterward, begging you to help him understand. His family did too, and his friends, people you considered friends as well, but it was clear once there was a line drawn in the sand where everyone stood, and they didn't have any trouble letting you know how horrible you were for doing what you did. Sometimes when you let yourself get angry, you wondered why Gavin's mother and sister, or any of them really, were so aggressive about your break up. They'd never wanted you to be with him in the first place, and even though they'd gotten their wish, they still called you a heartless monster.
But above all that, Gavin's messages made the deepest cut. He sounded so devastated in each voicemail. And at first, all he wanted was to talk, to somehow work it all out as if it was one big misunderstanding. I know my family can be a lot, but I love you so much, he'd said in a text. We can go to Italy like we'd planned. Elope. Buy a little cottage and just start a new life somewhere else. Please, Y/n. Talk to me. I love you.
Messages like those were the toughest pills to swallow. You knew Gavin loved you, you never doubted that for a moment. The problem was you didn't feel the same. You didn't know why. You cared for Gavin a lot, and in the beginning, you had all those giddy, initial relationship feelings, but they never developed beyond that. And when you noticed Gavin's feelings growing more and more each day while yours didn't, you started to panic.
But it was when those messages turned angry, hateful even, that hurt the most. It was what you deserved after what you'd done, but to know that you'd turned one of the gentlest souls you knew into a spiteful one killed you almost as much as stopping him from getting down on one knee had.
In the midst of all your crying and hyperventilating, your phone buzzed. Wiping your eyes and nose, you lifted your phone to your face, squinting at the bright light.
Harry S: I know you probably want space, but I'm here for you xx
You shouldn't be, was your first thought, but all you texted back was, Just a bad day that's all.
Harry's response was almost immediate, as if he was waiting around for your reply.
Harry S: Well, if you ever need a friend, you know where to find me :))
You sighed, feeling another wave of tears overwhelm you. The pressure of friendship weighed heavily on your chest. All you could offer was disappointment, and you couldn't stomach the thought of letting someone like Harry down. He was too good a person to be your friend. All you could offer him was disappointment and pain. You were toxic, and better off left alone.
You: We're not friends. I don't want to be your friend so just leave me alone.
*.*
Weeks went by and you were positively miserable. Thanksgiving came and went, and even your brothers could sense not to pry about your sour mood. Evan tried to get you alone, but you didn't want to talk. You didn't want to explain how you'd fucked things up so royally. Again. You didn't want his sympathy, or Hayden's promise to fight anyone who hurt you, or Andrew's cheesy jokes to lift your spirits. What you wanted had been all the way in England and had been giving you the cold shoulder. Just like you'd asked.
Harry stopped saying hi to you at the studio, which hurt more than you thought it would. In the grand scheme of things, you hadn't known him very long, but seeing him in the hallway and watching him purposely avoid you felt awful. You only had yourself to blame, but you thought it was better to let him down early on than further down the line. You couldn't have another Gavin situation on your hands.
But this felt entirely different. Even though you'd only spoken to Harry for a month, his absence from your life was more poignant than you expected it to be. When you ended things with Gavin, you felt guilty for hurting him, but ultimately, there was a sense of relief that you weren't leading him on, that crushing weight of his family's disapproval on your chest lifted. Breaking up with Gavin was hard, but it was the right thing to do for you, there was no doubt in your mind about that.
But this thing with Harry...you'd pushed him away when you were feeling vulnerable. A preemptive measure for the both of you, but there was no relief, no justifiable sense of rightness in your gut in the days following.
Part of you wanted to reach out to him and apologize, but you worried he hated you now and didn't know how to bridge the gap you created between the two of you.
Opportunity struck when you overheard a conversation between Harry and...Mitch. you were pretty sure that was Mitch from that night at Harry's house. It was about a week after you came back from your brother's house, and all three of them were constantly calling or texting despite their busy schedules. You wouldn't have put it past any of them to have set up times to routinely check in on you. It warmed your heart some, but nothing would feel right until you fixed things with Harry. Pushing him away had been a mistake, you saw that now. You'd done it in a moment when you were at your lowest, and that wasn't fair to either of you.
"I'm sorry, mate," Harry said to Mitch. "I didn't even think to ask if you were allergic before adopting a cat. I feel like an idiot now."
So he went ahead with his plan to get a pet, then. The thought made you smile, but you held it in. You were pressed into the corner of the elevator up to the studio. Harry was definitely aware of your presence, but he hadn't acknowledged you. Mitch gave you an awkward wave, but that was somehow worse.
"No worries, man," Mitch said now, stepping out of the elevator with Harry. He was in a white t-shirt and a light brown cardigan today, his curly brown hair looking beautifully windswept. You refused to think about the current state of your hair, which was hiding beneath a blue baseball cap. "I'll just have to—"
You never found out what Mitch would have to do because they rounded a corner of the hallway, leaving you alone outside the elevator. Quickly scurrying into your usual studio, you sat down at the grand piano, letting the smooth keys cool your sweaty palms. You felt breathless, but it wasn't the usual anxiety-ridden breathlessness you were used to. This felt different, your heart speeding up at the thought of Harry's broad shoulders beneath his sweater.
"Pull yourself together, Y/n," you told yourself.
The damage was done—once again, at your hands, but you couldn't help that right this second. Right now you had work to do.
The next day, you did something you didn't normally do—venture outside of your studio. Since working in the building, you'd never thought to explore the other rooms, to introduce yourself or make friends the way Harry had with you. As you walked down the long hallway of closed and half-open doors, you wondered who was behind them, what kind of projects were being worked on right now.
Most importantly, you wanted to know which door Harry sat behind.
After a day of writing, of trying to lean into more positive feelings, the small hope you had for a brighter future. You left the studio feeling lighter after another introspective session. There'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you, both of these things can be true, you'd written, forming your thoughts around a melody that was both somber and hopeful. That moment when you'd pushed Harry away was the lowest you'd felt in a while, but you didn't want to feel that way anymore. All Harry had been asking for was friendship. You could do friendship, in fact, you craved it.
So now you were trying to make things right with Harry, or at least apologize for your rude text. He'd only ever been incredibly kind to you, and you'd treated him like garbage.
You came across a door that was partially open, laughter filtering out and reaching you in the hallway. Harry's voice was mixed among them, and hearing him laugh filled you with butterflies. Going to his studio suddenly felt like a mistake. You didn't want to bring down his mood, especially if it would affect his writing for the day.
But you finally worked up the courage to knock on the open door. You'd already made it this far. The knock immediately sobered up everyone inside the studio, and you waited outside with your gift bag clutched in your hands. One of Harry's friends appeared, eyes widening when he saw you there.
"Y/n," he said. "It's good to see you."
You couldn't tell if he was pleased to see you or not, and nerves slowly began to creep in.
"I—I won't take up too much of your time, I know y'all are probably busy," you said. "I just, um, could you give this to Harry, please?"
You shoved the bag in the man's direction, forcing him to take it. "You can come in. He's just inside—"
"No, it's okay. I should probably get back to it. So, uh, see you."
You turned and fled, heat flooding your cheeks. Honestly, you were surprised you made it that far. You figured your courage would fizzle out before knocking on the studio door.
Settling back in your studio, you pulled out your journal and phone out of your bag, and opened up to a fresh page to work on a new song. On the way into work this morning, your agent pitched you an opportunity to write for an up-and-coming artist. "Something light, Y/n," she'd said, knowing you'd been writing mostly sad, break-up songs recently. "If it doesn't work out, then it doesn't work out, but at least try. You've always liked to challenge yourself."
So you were putting away the Champagne problems for now and channeling your happiest thoughts. You even brought your computer to stream romantic comedies while you worked for some additional inspiration.
You were halfway through When Harry met Sally when that inspiration finally struck. Lighter, happier words finally filled your journal, a rare, but not completely uncommon occurrence. You'd written love songs in the past, both before and while you were with Gavin. But surprisingly, Gavin wasn't who came to mind, nor was it the characters in the movie on your computer.
You thought of Harry's smile, his flushed cheeks after he'd had a couple drinks, his green eyes that seemed to sparkle when he laughed. Did you have a crush on him? You weren't entirely sure, maybe you just admired his goodness. And, okay fine, his unfair amount of good looks too. But you tried not to focus too long on who exactly inspired you, just on making sure the words kept flowing onto the page.
Perhaps you should've expected Harry to stop by, but you hadn't. His voice startled you, your eyes having been glued to the screen of your computer as the final scene of Roman Holiday played out in front of you. It had always been one of your favorites, and you decided that a brain break was needed as the final third of the film rolled around.
"What's this?"
No matter how many times you'd seen it, the ending never failed to bring tears to your eyes. Seeing the glisten of tears in Gregory Peck's eyes as he stared longingly at Audrey Hepburn's, knowing they loved each other but could never be together was heartbreaking. It had been the most tragic thing you'd ever experienced when you first watched it as a girl, and it hadn't even happened to you.
It was those tears now that you wiped away, a warmth creeping up your cheeks because this was the second time Harry had caught you crying. How embarrassing.
Looking up, you saw the gift bag in one hand, the other in his pocket as he stared at you blankly. No warmth or his usual smile, but he wasn't glaring at you, either. He just looked indifferent, and that didn't sit well with you at all.
"I...I overheard you and Mitch talking about your cat and his allergies, and I'd heard of this stuff that you can use on your pets to help people who are allergic to animals."
You'd gone out and bought it after leaving the studio the day you'd overheard the conversation between Mitch and Harry. It was your version of an olive branch, a way to express your guilt after taking Harry's friendship and throwing it in his face. You were his friend, and you wanted him to know it.
It probably seemed silly to hide behind a gift instead of saying something, considering your profession. But confrontation was almost as terrifying as love was, it was part of the reason why you only wrote songs and didn't perform them.
Harry scoffed, and it looked like he couldn't decide between laughing or rolling his eyes. "No, I know what this is, I'm asking why you gave it to me. Or not me, to my friend and then scurried back over here."
"I'm sorry about that, about everything," you said, shutting your laptop and shifting in your chair. "I was...I haven't been in the best place for some time now. It's not an excuse for how I treated you that day. You caught me in a bad moment and I lashed out."
"Thank you for apologizing," he said, his voice cool and even. You desperately wanted to know what he was thinking. What he saw when he looked at you. "Do you want to grab coffee? Maybe we can talk?"
The thought of being open and honest in the way that he was suggesting was daunting, but Harry deserved your honesty. "Sure. Let me just pack up my things."
Harry waited for you by the door as you packed your bag, jotting a couple notes down in your journal before putting it away. Your hands shook a little as you approached him, excitement swelling in your belly despite the anxiety you felt at the prospect of having to talk about things you preferred to leave in the recesses of your mind. But it felt good to see Harry again, to walk beside him and head to your favorite coffee house.
Neither of you said anything on the short walk over, and even after you placed your orders, you remained quiet. When your name was called out alongside Harry's to grab your drinks, you knew it was time to find a table, but you stayed rooted to your spot in front of the counter.
It was Larissa. Gavin's sister. She was standing next to the other end of the counter where baristas called out and dropped off orders. There was a moment when she didn't see you, and you thought you could make a break for it, even if that meant leaving Harry high and dry. But even if you wanted to, you were frozen in place, and when Larissa's gaze finally landed on you, you felt her glare even from a short distance.
"Y/n?" Harry asked, both drinks in his hands. "What's—"
"Y/n! How good to see you!"
Larissa's kind smile was anything but. You'd never trusted Gavin's sister. From the moment you met her, you knew to be wary of her, and after everything that happened, you were sure nothing good was going to come out of this interaction.
"H—Hi, Larissa. How are you?" you said, trying your best not to look at Harry, who had a quizzical look on his face.
"Oh, I'm just fabulous. I've just spent the last year healing my brother's broken heart, which you broke like it was nothing," Larissa said. "He's great, by the way. Finally came to his senses and realized what a God-awful mess you were. He realized all of us were better off without you."
Then, before you could even make sense of what was happening, a rush of cold washed over you. At first, you thought it was merely a visceral reaction to the confrontation, but Harry's, "What the fuck?" made you think twice.
Looking down, you realized Larissa had poured her drink on your sweater. Shock left you blinking at Gavin's sister, tears welling in your eyes. With shaking hands, you held the ruined sweater in your hands, then back to Larissa. "Wh—Why—"
"That's for my brother, slut."
"That's enough," Harry said, voice harder and colder than you'd ever heard him before. Even when he was upset with you at the studio, he never sounded this angry. Gently gripping your elbow, he turned you around. You hardly noticed the flashing of cameras aimed in your direction. All you could really process was Larissa's smirk and the iced coffee dripping off you onto the coffee house's floor.
When you were finally outside and a block down the road, Harry pulled you down an alley where you could have a moment of privacy. He pulled his sweater over his head and offered it to you in a bundle. You quietly murmured your thanks and took it from him, slipping it over your head. The plain black sweater was warm and smelled like him—like laundry detergent and expensive cologne. It would've been the kind of thing to flood your senses if shame hadn't currently encompassed every fiber of your being.
"I'm sorry you had to see that," you said when you felt like you could speak without your voice trembling.
"You don't have to apologize for what happened, Y/n," Harry said. He gently rested his hand on your shoulder. "Are you okay?"
"I think so."
You couldn't look him in the eye, not while your iced coffee-ridden sweater was now ruining his, not while he kept looking at you with such pity. You could feel it down to your toes, and it made you want to curl up in a ball and never get out of bed. But Harry deserved an explanation. At the very least, he deserved to know who he associated himself with.
"I should explain—"
"You don't have to," Harry insisted.
"I want to," you said, believing the words as you said them. You weren't sure what you would've done if Harry hadn't been with you a few minutes ago. His brows were still furrowed with concern, his thumb rubbing circles into your shoulder. His sweater layered over yours created a pretty thick barrier, but you could feel his touch as if he was caressing your skin. "We can, um, we can go back to my place."
Thankfully, Harry didn't protest, just nodded quietly. The walk back to the studio was completely silent, leaving you alone with your thoughts until it was time to part ways. He got in his car and followed you home, silently following you up the steps to your apartment, a comfortable little one-bedroom twenty minutes from the studio.
Buddy was at the door when you unlocked it, tail wagging and tongue lolling to the side of his mouth happily. He greeted you first, then Harry, who he tried with all his might to knock over by getting up on his hind legs and resting on your guest. "Buddy! Down!" you hissed, frantically holding onto your dog's collar. Harry laughed and waived you off, surprising you by lifting Buddy up into his arms. Both boys were perfectly content, and the image of your friend holding your dog in your apartment was enough to lift your spirits the tiniest bit. A small smile crept onto your face, and Harry's grin widened when he saw it.
"Nice place," Harry commented, spinning around in a slow circle as he looked around.
"Thanks." Your apartment was small, but it was in a nice neighborhood and close to the beach. You made just enough in royalties to be comfortable in a little one bedroom. "Definitely different from my place in Nashville."
Harry nodded mildly before setting Buddy back down on the floor, admiring the colorful furniture that took up the space in your living room. Shivering a little, you looked down at yourself, reminded of your coffee-soaked clothes.
"There are treats in the pantry," you said, setting your things down on the kitchen counter and nodding to the pantry in question. "I'm just going to get changed so I can wash your sweater."
Harry nodded, but he seemed content to play with Buddy and look around your apartment, and your dog seemed perfectly happy to never walk on four legs ever again.
You tried to make quick work of changing, not wanting to keep Harry waiting too long. But you gave yourself a minute or two to calm down and process everything that had happened in the last hour. Even though it was horribly embarrassing, you were glad Harry had been there. He'd been a calming presence throughout, and you could only hope that would continue as you explained why you'd pushed him away.
*.*
"I...I didn't want to hurt you," you said, looking down at where your hands were knotted in your lap. "I just...I don't have a very good track record with relationships. Of any kind. I didn't want you to be one of the people I ruined."
Harry had been surprisingly quiet while you explained everything. And by everything, you meant everything. From Gavin to the Christmas party and what you'd heard to the would-be proposal. You told him about that song you'd written a couple weeks ago and how it brought all that emotion to the forefront of your memory and that it led you to push Harry away. He hadn't said much, asking you a few questions here and there; but for the most part, he let you speak uninterrupted, and you were surprised at how you continued to fill the silence, not once feeling uncomfortable. Perhaps a little ashamed after explaining how badly you'd hurt Gavin, but you never felt discomfort telling Harry any of it.
"Y/n, I—" Harry began to say before pausing. Looking up at him, you saw his brows furrowed, a look of consternation on his face. You waited for the blow, the one that eventually led him to leave you friendless once and for all. "I don't think you're a bad person for breaking up with him. I can't imagine that kind of hurt, sure, but if you didn't love him, you did the right thing. Do you—Do you seriously believe you're fucked in the head? Or that you ruin people?"
He was referencing the song you'd written, and you flushed bright red at the idea of him hearing more of the song than you would've liked. Shrugging, you gave him the truth. It didn't seem fit to lie when you'd bared your soul to him. "I don't know."
You could tell that answer didn't sit right with Harry. His frown deepened, and you desperately wanted to see him smile again. "Y/n, everyone makes mistakes in relationships, and even then I don't think you did anything wrong in that moment. Was it unfortunate timing? Maybe, but I don't think you should punish yourself for it anymore. In fact, I think what you did was brave."
"What?"
Smiling, Harry took your hand in his. It was warm, and his long fingers curled around your hand with ease. On any other day, you would've pulled back, but after sharing so much with him, this felt good. It felt right.
"I said what you did was brave," he said again. "You didn't love him, but you could've accepted the proposal and stayed with him. And then what? Leave him at the altar? Stay in a loveless marriage? It was hard, but you did the right thing for you and Gavin. I'm sure even he would come to understand that one day. Have you tried talking to him?"
You shook your head. "He hates me now."
"I don't think anyone could really hate you, Y/n," Harry said quietly, a blush crawling up his cheeks as if he hadn't meant to say that out loud. "I know you might disagree, but I think you might feel a lot better about all of this if you talked to him."
"His family—"
"Fuck his family. Gavin is a grown man who can think for himself," Harry said. "If he can't separate their wrong opinions from his own thoughts, then he's an idiot who never deserved you anyway."
You laughed a little at the first half of what he said. It felt nice to know that someone was on your side. Squeezing Harry's hand, you said, "Thank you."
"For what?"
"For listening, for being a good friend when I maybe didn't deserve it. Evan's the only person I talked to about this, and even then I didn't explain everything," you said. Evan had been on your side, but it didn't really count to you. He was your brother. He had to be on your side. "I just don't have the best track record when it comes to hurting people, you know?"
Your eyes had fallen to your hand, which was still curled around his, but to your surprise, Harry's other one lifted your chin to meet his gaze. With wide eyes, you looked at him, heart beating a little wilder in your chest when you saw the look on his face. His expression was wide open, earnest and endearing, and filled with...something you weren't ready to see yet. But it filled you with warmth, and for the first time in a long time, you really believed that you didn't have to be alone.
"I don't think you'll hurt me," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.
His hand pushed a strand of your hair away from your face, tucking it behind your ear. The movement made your breath hitch, lips parting as you tried to decide what Harry was going to do next, what you wanted him to do next. He seemed like he was waiting for something too, and his gaze was finally too much, like he could see your soul and was currently shuffling through every little thing you longed for and were afraid of. It was heavy with emotion, and you weren't ready for it.
"You should probably get going soon," you said, rising, with great difficulty, to your feet and putting some distance between yourself and Harry. A frown on Harry's face appeared, and you quickly explained yourself. "Your cat. You probably should head home and feed her."
Before you and Harry sat down to talk about...everything, he briefly mentioned his new kitten, Sweet Pea. "It was the name she already had when I adopted her, and it didn't feel right to change it, though sometimes she's not so sweet." She was a fluffy Ragdoll cat that was apparently quite the diva, and Harry proudly showed off picture after picture, claiming he was already in love with his new furry companion.
Now though, Harry's eyes widened as if he hadn't even thought about his new kitten since being here. "Right. Good call. I'll see you tomorrow?"
You nodded as you watched him gather his things. "I'll return the sweater tomorrow."
"Don't worry about it," he said with a dismissive wave of his hand.
You walked Harry to the door to see him out. He crossed the threshold but paused before heading down to his car. You couldn't read the look that crossed his face, but his lingering gave you one last opportunity to take him all in. The muscles in his arms bulged beneath the white t-shirt he wore, and his hair had grown a tad longer since you'd spoken to him last, now curling around the nape of his neck and touching the collar of his shirt. Harry was taller than you, but not by much, though standing this close, it felt like he was a whole foot taller as you craned your neck to look at him.
Then, before you could ask if he'd forgotten something, he leaned forward. It took you a moment to realize what he'd done, but the lingering traces of heat on your forehead helped. He'd kissed you. On the forehead.
"See you tomorrow!"
Harry was gone in a flash, leaving you standing at the front door of your apartment with an open mouth as you tried to decide what his forehead kiss meant. To you, it felt sisterly, and you couldn't help the disappointment that swirled in your gut. You quickly pushed that feeling away, closing the door on whatever happened just then.
*.*
For the next few weeks, everything felt like it was back to normal. Better than normal, even. Despite the awkwardness you felt at having to see Harry after the odd forehead kiss, Harry acted like it never happened, which you were thankful for. You wouldn't have known what to say if he'd brought it up. Or tried to do it again.
But it became clear, despite the teeny tiny budding feelings you might have had for him, that he merely saw you as a friend. After your long talk with him at your apartment, Harry began showing you some of the work he'd been doing in his own studio down the hall from yours. It appeared he was getting over a break up too, though you never would've guessed by how cheerful he was most days. He still was, even as he explained a little about his most recent relationship, and you realized that while you hid your true emotions behind a wall, he might've been hiding behind his happy disposition. It made you want to dig deeper, to see what lay beneath all that "fineness."
As you spent more time with Harry, you also began hanging out with his friends. The first time you returned to his house for another game night, everyone seemed genuinely happy to see you, namely Sylvia. "I'm so glad you're spending more time with H," she'd said that night. "I love him to death but he's a clingy motherfucker when he's lonely."
That thought made you laugh. You recalled a conversation you'd had with Harry a while back when he'd said his friends were "disgustingly in love." He seemed like the kind of guy who loved love, but you also didn't want Sylvia, or any of his friends, to get the wrong idea.
"Oh I don't—I mean we're not—I don't think he sees me that way."
That wasn't how you wanted to explain yourself, seeing as you weren't even sure if you saw him that way. But Sylvia must have seen your flushed cheeks and understood your floundering because she smiled at you warmly.
"I think this calls for a girl's day. What do you think?"
"Oh. Um..." You didn't expect any of Harry's friends to want to hang out with you one on one, but you'd been leaning into trying new things lately. And girl's day? You grew up with three brothers, the last time you had anything resembling that was a tea party Hayden and Evan threw for you when you were six. "Sure. I could meet you for lunch this week if you'd like."
"Lunch sounds perfect."
A couple days passed until you had Buddy on his leash, walking down to the cafe you and Sylvia agreed on. You were a little nervous, but mostly excited. It had been a while since you'd hung out casually with a friend—you weren't counting Harry—and while you'd grown accustomed to the loneliness, you couldn't help but acknowledge that it felt nice to talk to someone other than your dog.
"Okay," Sylvia said once the waiter walked away with your orders. She'd held off asking about Harry, but now the time had come. "Hit me. What did Harold do?"
"Nothing," you said, perhaps a little too quickly. When Sylvia pinned you with a stare, you looked down at your glass of water. "He just...He gave me a kiss? On the forehead? And I don't know, it just read very...brotherly."
Sylvia sighed, which at the very least vindicated your feelings. It wasn't like you wanted anything more, but the whole thing left you feeling confused. A cheek kiss would've been easier to navigate, but the forehead? It left Y/n thinking about Harry more than she should've.
"Okay, I can see where you might be confused by that, but as someone with a brother, I can confidently say they don't do shit like that."
You weren't sure what you expected her to say, or what you even wanted her to say, but it wasn't that. Sylvia knew Harry fairly well, so it was safe to say that she was telling the truth, you just weren't ready to accept what she was implying.
"I do too, and I know the last thing I would expect from any of my brothers is a kiss on the forehead, but I don't know," you said, trying to remain as neutral as possible knowing Sylvia could report back to Harry. This whole thing was starting to feel very grade school-esque.
"Just know that Harry's a pretty open guy, but he's been burned in the past so he might be a little closed off or not be as inclined to make the first move," Sylvia said, though in some ways it sounded like a warning. "He's the greatest guy you'll ever meet, and whatever you decide, just be gentle, okay?"
It was hard to imagine someone as positive and happy as Harry having a dark past, but it sounded like there was a lot more than what met the eye as far as he was concerned. It was honestly a little comforting to know that he wasn't perfect. You were such a mess sometimes it seemed unfair that people wandered through life seemingly unscathed. You knew that was rarely ever the case, but sometimes it was hard to remember when guys like Harry walked around embracing life and had smiles for every occasion.
"I will," you promised, and you meant it. You were pretty sure nothing was going to happen between you and Harry, but you could appreciate Sylvia looking out for her friend. As nice as she had been to you so far, she was Harry's friend first. Her words made you wonder if you would ever have friends so fiercely loyal to you.
After that lunch with Sylvia, the weeks began to pass by in a blur. There were days when you saw Harry frequently, and then you wouldn't see him at all. He would show up at your studio to get coffee—at a new coffee shop, of course—you stopped by his to bring him and his friends baked goods, and sometimes you would end the night at one another's houses, a bottle of wine and takeout split between the two of you. You weren't dating, at least you wouldn't categorize whatever it was that you were doing as dating, but it felt nice to have someone in your life consistently again, and you liked that Harry was that person even more.
That didn't mean you couldn't read the signs. Sometimes Harry's gaze would linger when he thought you didn't notice, or he would sit a lot closer than was maybe necessary when you hung out with his friends. Sometimes his hand would brush yours as you watched a movie as if he wanted to hold it, and yours would brush back encourgingly, and then suddenly you were holding hands. To anyone else, it might have appeared confusing—in fact, Sylvia had vocalized her confusion over the non-relationship you and Harry were engaging in—but for you, not acknowledging what was happening and not putting any labels or definitions on this thing happening between the two of you was somehow easier to swallow. And since Harry seemed to be following your lead, he didn't say anything to object.
It was around Christmastime that things began to change. You'd spent your morning writing a song for an artist's Christmas album, a feat you'd managed to avoid in the past. But since you'd worked with the artist before and liked the vision she had for this album, you decided to at least try to write a holiday song. It wasn't necessarily that you disliked Christmas or the holidays, you were just indifferent to the season in question, and after everything that transpired two years ago now, you just never felt like celebrating much.
Harry Styles, however, was a huge fan of Christmas. his studio was decked out with lights and garlands, he got him and Sweet Pea matching sweaters, which you weren't entirely sure if he knitted or not, and he'd been bugging you since Thanksgiving to come over to decorate cookies. He'd finally worn you down and you were going over later tonight, but not before putting in a couple hours at the studio, which turned into sitting in on one of Harry's sessions.
It didn't happen often, but you did like seeing the team approach to writing songs as opposed to your usual solitary method. For the most part, you watched as Harry bounced ideas off his friends, observing as they focused on one chord progression or verse until something else stole their attention away. It was a bit chaotic, but everyone in the room seemed to be having fun.
It was in the middle of a heated debate between another fun, upbeat song or beginning to work on a ballad when the melody came to you. It was just piano chords, and had you been in your own studio, you would've immediately sat down to play it and see where it went. But this wasn't your studio, and it wasn't your session, and while you knew no one would've minded hearing your input, you felt nervous all of a sudden, self-conscious.
So instead, you pulled some blank sheet music out and began to scribble, writing as quickly as possible before the melody escaped you. The melody had taken up so much space in your head that everything else faded away. You envisioned arrangements, themes, a line or two sprouting as you wrote down the next note. Something sad and somber, the exact opposite of what Harry had been pushing for since he entered the studio.
"What am I now?" you wrote on the back of the sheet music. You didn't know how it would fit, but it would. You could tinker with the words later, so long as all your thoughts were written down somewhere, you would find a way to make it happen.
"What are you working on over there?"
Harry was suddenly at your side, and when he peeked over your shoulder, you didn't try to hide your frenzied notes. You handed them over, unsure if he even read sheet music. "It was just a thought I had. I can play it for you if you'd like?"
"Please," Harry said, gesturing to the piano in the corner of the room. It was then that you realized that everyone else had left the room at some point or another. At your questioning glance, Harry explained. "Ten minute break, but it felt like you were onto something...And I figured you'd be more willing to share if it wasn't in front of a group."
"Thank you," you said, those pesky butterflies swirling around in your stomach. They seemed to appear any time Harry so much as smiled at you. "It's just a melody, really, but maybe you can use it for something.
You sat down at the piano, eyes widening when Harry sat down beside you. Shaking it off, you focused on the piano, the keys cool and smooth to the touch, a familiar feeling that felt nice among such a different work setting. You explained your thought process to Harry a little bit, telling him the direction you hoped the song would go in and possible arrangements for it and whatnot. Harry, who apparently knew you better than you thought he did, nudged you with his elbow and encouraged you to play, knowing that you were stalling.
It wasn't that you were unsure of yourself or your talent. You knew you were good at what you did. You'd collaborated on multiple albums and worked with many well-known artists and bands, or artists who were just breaking out onto the scene and did so with the help of your songwriting. The difference here was that you normally didn't play an idea for anyone until it was fully realized. You typically sent over demos and typed up lyrics, and Harry would be one of the first to hear something that you'd only just come up with. Besides Buddy, but he didn't really count.
Taking a deep breath, you began to play, letting the chords you'd only just come up with pull your focus. After having played through it a couple times, you looked over at Harry, who had a faraway look in his eyes, an idea of his own forming in his head, perhaps.
"It's fairly simple, but I think that's what's rather beautiful about it," you said while still playing. "Sometimes you don't need much to get a response from someone, and I think a melody like this really allows an artist to shine, you know? Whether that's through their lyrics, or their vocal range, or both. And obviously it can be changed to a different key, this is just the one I wrote down, but...yeah, that's what I've got."
You finally stopped playing to hear Harry's opinion, though you wished you hadn't. Now your hands didn't really know what to do, and it took a lot of effort to keep them knotted together in your lap. Harry still looked pensive, as if he hadn't even heard your rambling, though now you were even more curious to know what he thought.
"Harry?"
Blinking, Harry turned toward you, his knee bumping against yours on the piano bench. His eyes cleared up as he remembered he wasn't alone in the studio. "Hm? Sorry, just thinking."
Offering him your pen and a fresh page in your journal, you said, "Did you maybe want to write it down?"
After that, you and Harry wrote hundreds of songs together. At least it felt like a hundred songs. Whether it was in the studio, or at each other's homes—mainly his because he had a home studio and a guest room for when sessions went too long—the two of you were almost always writing together. It wasn't always for his album, either. Sometimes Harry would help you with projects you were working on for other artists, or you would just write songs for the sake of writing them.
And it just worked. It felt like you and Harry just clicked. He was able to vocalize what you were trying to say to his producer, and you knew what he was thinking before he said it or the sound he was going for based off a couple descriptors. You'd never known someone so intimately before, or understood them so completely, Not even Gavin.
Harry was witty and smart and kind and genuine. He felt things deeply, and kept a lot of his darkest secrets and deepest insecurities incredibly close to his chest. You realized at some point that he was even more guarded than you in some ways. As you wrote together more and more, you obviously realized that there was more than met the eye when it came to your friend, but outside of songwriting, he wouldn't divulge much. He'd been through a breakup recently, that much you could tell, and while you wanted to know more, you respected his privacy and the desire to leave the past exactly where it was. Unless it came to the music, of course.
"So...you're what? Friends without all the benefits?" Sylvia asked you.
You met with her pretty regularly now for lunch during the week. Harry wasn't typically the topic of conversation, but on this occasion, Sylvia was giving you the third degree.
"We're co-workers. And friends," you added as an afterthought. Saying you were merely co-workers didn't seem right to you anymore, and you knew Harry would be upset if you thought otherwise. "I don't know what other benefits I would need outside of his companionship."
"Bull. Shit." Sylvia pinned you with a stare that made you blush. "Last weekend he had you practically sitting in his lap, and you're trying to tell me nothing's going on?"
"Not really. I don't think either of us are in a place to be in a relationship right now." It was the same line you fed to Andrew last week when you went to see one of his games. He thankfully bought it, or maybe he was just used to you keeping your love life to yourself, but Sylvia wasn't having it.
"What makes you say that?"
You shrugged. "I mean I'm definitely not, and I can just tell he's not there yet either. I mean, obviously, I've learned about his most recent relationship by working with him, but outside of that, he doesn't tell me anything. I don't even know her name."
You weren't offended that Harry didn't want to share about his ex. You wouldn't have told him about Gavin if you hadn't been put in that particular situation. But you understood better than most about that kind of pain. Maybe he wasn't ready. Maybe his feelings were getting all jumbled up between the past and the present. Or maybe he just didn't like you that way. The last theory hurt more than you cared to admit, but you were more scared of another potential relationship going up in flames than finding out the truth, so you decided ignorance really was bliss.
Sylvia nodded, understanding. You realized she must've known his ex, though you didn't ask for details. That was Harry's story to tell, not hers, and you were pretty sure Sylvia would say the same if you did ask. "I guess that's fair. But so, you're just...friends who kiss occasionally?"
You nearly choked on your sip of water. "What? No! Of course not. We don't—We—"
"Let me save you the struggle of coming up with an unconvincing lie," Sylvia said. "I've seen you."
"When?"
"Christmas party," she said, raising one finger as if she was about to list a few occurences.
"That was mistletoe. It was innocent," you said with a dismissive wave of your hand, even though said hand was suddenly clammy.
"New Year's."
"Everyone kisses at the end of the countdown!"
"At game night when he kissed your neck?"
"Why are you paying that close attention to my neck?"
"And," Slyvia said, pointedly ignoring your last remark. "I have it on good authority that Harry kissed you at the studio last week. Don't try to hide it, Y/n."
Sighing, you said, "So what's your point, exactly?"
"My point is that y'all are just pretending you're not in a relationship when you are!" she said, looking at you as if you had two heads. "Look, it's clear you've been through some shit and Harry has too, I won't deny that. But are you really going to put your happiness on the back burner because of it?"
Your cheeks burned at having been caught. It wasn't like you'd planned to kiss Harry any of those times. Each kiss came as a surprise, leaving you more and more breathless than the last and hopeful for another. What Sylvia didn't know was that you and Harry had kissed a lot more than the handful that she'd rattled off. Sometimes when it was late and you were over at his house working, he'd get this look in his eyes that would turn your whole body molten. He'd lean in close, nudge your nose with his, and then his lips were on yours and time suddenly didn't exist.
You liked kissing Harry. A lot. You liked the way his fingers gingerly held your jaw, you liked that kissing him gave you free rein to touch him wherever you wanted—his hair, his arms, beneath his shirt. Sometimes it felt like you couldn't get enough, but it always ended with one of you pulling away under the guise that it was getting late. Your lips would tingle long after, and you'd text Harry late at night when you should've been asleep, or he would call to talk about whatever he was thinking.
To anyone else, it wouldn't make sense, but it made sense to you and Harry. There was no pressure to be more, no urgency to define what you were doing, and that seemed to work for both of you.
"I'm perfectly happy right now," you said, and you were.
It had been a long time since you'd felt this content. Your breakup with Gavin left you feeling guilty and ashamed. And deep down, you knew you already felt more for Harry than you did for your ex, and that made you feel horrible too. Part of you still felt you were being greedy by trying to be this happy, that you should just take what you were given and try not to press your luck.
Sylvia took you by surprise by taking your hand. Her fingers were warm and reassuring, just as her eyes were when you finally met her gaze. It was safe to say now that she was your friend. She'd come over to your house multiple times for wine and movie nights, you went out to bars together, you'd met her partner, who was the absolute sweetest person on the planet. You valued Sylvia's friendship, and you valued her as a person. You didn't want to lose her if things with Harry progressed and fizzled out.
"It's okay to want more, Y/n," she said gently.
It was like she saw through all the bullshit and realized what you were really scared of. Harry was the only person who knew everything regarding your past relationship, but you told Sylvia bits and pieces. When you'd told her that you broke up with Gavin the night he wanted to propose, she didn't judge you, or ask why you'd throw away a perfectly good relationship. She was empathetic, and said she was sorry you had to go through that. It felt good to confide in someone who was willing to hear your side of the story, to have them realize if you could've loved Gavin the way he loved you, you would've.
"Maybe," you said. "But like I said, I'm not the only one who has shit to work through."
Sylvia nodded, letting the subject drop. But the words she'd said, It's okay to want more, needled at your brain the rest of the day.
*.*
"You should come with me."
You had been watching Sweet Pea doze contentedly on top of Buddy, who was curled in a ball on his dog bed. The two of them were an unlikely pair, but they'd gotten along great the first time they were introduced, and now you found it adorable any time they napped together.
Harry's voice was low and scratchy in your ear, as if he wasn't too far off from sleep himself. You were huddled together under a blanket on your couch, watching the credits roll on the second movie of the night, but you hadn't paid much attention to anything since the moment Harry pulled you to his chest and tucked his chin in the crook of your neck, peppering your skin with kisses as his thumbs rubbed circles beneath your shirt.
"What?" you asked, not having really heard him. It seemed impossible, but every day his touch became more and more dizzying.
"To Japan. You should come with me," he said. "It would be like a writing retreat."
Harry had mentioned his impromptu trip to Japan over dinner. He seemed excited about it, of getting out of town for a little while and just being alone with his thoughts. Those were his words, though now he was inviting you along.
"I don't even have a passport," you said, a non-answer, as Harry would call it.
"We'll get you one," he said. "Don't you think it would be fun to explore a new city together? Just the two of us?"
"W—What about Buddy?"
"Buddy can come to," Harry said, like it was all just so easy.
You thought back to your conversation with Sylvia a week ago. It's okay to want more, she'd said. At the time, you were content with this thing you and Harry were doing. It was simple and easy and pressure-free. A couple weeks later her words still nagged you. You hadn't mentioned wanting more to Harry, but this was different. This was...big. Appearing nonchalant didn't make it so.
"What are we?" you found yourself asking, hating how cliche the question was, even if you did need the answer all of a sudden.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, but you knew he was too smart to not understand.
Still, you sat up and faced him, forcing him to sit on the other side of the couch to have a proper conversation. "I meant exactly what I said, H. What—What are we doing here exactly?"
Harry's face flushed, the muscles in his arm flexing as he rubbed his neck. "I...I don't know. I thought we were okay with not really defining it."
Not defining it, or not talking about it? you thought, even though that wasn't really fair. You were just as content not to ask as he was until now. Or a few weeks ago, you couldn't exactly tell when you began to want more, or when wanting more stopped scaring you.
"I know, but now you're asking me to drop everything and fly to Japan for...for how long exactly?"
Harry shrugged, and your jaw ticked. "A couple months?"
"A couple months," you repeated, trying to align your thoughts. All you could hear though was, It's okay to want more. Taking a deep breath, you said, "I think...I think if I'm going to follow someone across the world for a couple months, I would like a definition about what it is we're doing."
"It's a writing retreat, Y/n. We would be working on songs. Just like we've always done."
You weren't sure when you became the brave one. Perhaps it was your conversation with Sylvia bolstering your confidence, or maybe it was Harry's reluctance to acknowledge the situation at hand, you weren't sure, but his reply wasn't enough. Not nearly enough.
"I'd have to find my own hotel," you said. "Or an apartment to rent I guess."
"You'd stay with me obviously," Harry said, and you had to resist the urge to take him by the shoulders and shake him until he started seeing your perspective.
"Co-workers don't live together, H."
"But we're not just co-workers, Y/n. We're—"
Your brows raised, encouraging him to finish, but he ended up shaking his head. Running a tired hand over his face, he said, "I understand what you mean, but I can't...I can't give that to you right now."
You nodded, then stood up. "And I can't go to Japan without it."
It hurt, but at least he was being upfront about how he felt. It wasn't really fair of you to ask for more when both of you had been content to keep things simple. But somewhere down the line, you realized you liked Harry. A lot. You were okay with leaving your history with Gavin in the past, and you wanted to look to the future now. You'd thought that the future might include a relationship with Harry, but he wasn't ready, and you weren't sure if you wanted to wait. So much of the last two years had been waiting, hiding. Now you needed more. You craved it.
You felt like you were in some kind of alternate universe. One where Harry was scared and unsure of himself and unable to admit to what he wanted. You wanted more, and you weren't going to settle for anything less. You wanted to be more than his friend whom he kissed sometimes, you wanted to hear his scratchy voice as he woke up beside you, and you knew he did too, but something was holding him back. You'd spent too much time hiding from life and love to hide with him some more. Part of you wanted to, just because it was Harry, and you cared about him a lot, but a bigger part of you knew what you deserved, and it was okay to acknowledge that.
"I understand," he said, standing up with you.
Both of you were quiet as he gathered his things. You watched his broad shoulders shrug into his coat, the lean frame of his body bend down to put Sweet Pea in her little carrier. You felt the loss of him already, and he hadn't even gone yet, but you could feel the wall going up between the two of you. Both of you were guarded in your own ways, and both of you had been as vulnerable as you could be, but it wasn't enough.
"When are you planning on leaving?" you asked as you walked him to the door.
"Couple weeks," he said. "Just have to get the logistics figured out."
Nodding, you stepped into his offered embrace, letting yourself inhale the scent of his cologne and feel his arms around you for the last time for a while. His nose bumped yours in a move that was so familiar it made your heart squeeze. You weren't sure how long you stood like that, kissing until you couldn't breathe, it was only until Buddy's wet nose nudged the two of you apart that you finally stepped away from him. Harry bent down to scratch your dog's head and let him lick his cheek a few times before straightening back up. He was about to turn and leave when you called his name.
"I don't know what happened," you said, swallowing around the lump in your throat. "If you did something or if she did something to make you so...closed off, and from one heavily guarded person to another, I'm sorry that it happened and that it made you this way. I hope you find whatever it is you're looking for in Japan."
Harry grinned, but it wasn't wide enough to show his dimples. Without saying a word, he left, head bent as he walked down the hall, taking a piece of you with him.
Buddy nudged your leg, pulling away from the hall Harry already disappeared down. Your dog's eyes were big and curious and completely unaware of what was wrong, which brought a watery smile to your face. "Come on, bubba. Let's get ready for bed."
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nakylvr · 6 months ago
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Okay so first request is in fact not a smut one! Instead i would like to request the kats reaction to gn reader being clumsy and stupid and injuring themself in ridiculous ways
Great example: my dumbass last night. I was looking for my scissors and forgot I had them on my lap and then turned and punctured myself with my scissors by my pelvic area so yesterday and today I've been having trouble walking and moving my left leg 😭
N e ways i would just like comfort from the kats bc i am a stupid clumsy idiot
-trans dude anon
as someone who rarely gets injured but when injured is injured extremely bad...i tried my best here 😭🙏
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warnings/tags: established relationship, gn!reader, mild language
sophia
sophia is the least surprised whenever someone gets hurt, including you. will she react the same every time as if you're bleeding out dying even when you just stub your toe on something? yes. but, it's the thought that counts! so when she hears a yelp from inside the apartment, she's not surprised when she rounds the corner to see you mumbling under your breath about how that table should be moved by now while standing on one leg. and yet, she still rushes over to you asking if you're okay and what happened. depending on how bad the injury is determines how badly she freaks out, and if there's any blood whatsoever she's taking it like you're bleeding out, putting you on the couch and getting the first aid kit. it's safe to say she's gotten used to you getting injured randomly throughout the day, but she still babies you every time like it's the first time getting hurt around her. it's the same if you're sick. she'll do anything to make sure you feel better especially if it was a more serious injury, doing literally everything before you can even think of asking her. she just knows. it's a little scary sometimes.
manon
manon is also not that surprised whenever you get hurt because of how many times it happens. she expects it by now but it still shocks her when she hears you yell from across the room or wherever you are. she is already walking towards you with the first aid kit before you can even call for her and she just shakes her head seeing you get hurt doing something stupid again. that being said, she also babies you, but not as much as sophia. she likes taking care of you and she doesn't get to do it often, so she does everything in her power when she is. she makes sure you're completely okay before helping you into bed or on the couch and puts the first aid kit away before coming back to you. her go to way to comfort anyone, including herself is watching comfort shows/movies, so that's exactly what she does once she ensures you're okay and she can relax a little bit, laying down next to you and putting something you like on the tv. she may call you an idiot for the ways you get hurt sometimes, but she means well and you can tell in her eyes that she's genuine every time she helps you whenever you injure yourself accidentally.
daniela
dani might or might not laugh in your face at times depending on how you got hurt. if she witnessed it especially. it's her first instinct if it's funny how you got hurt before she quickly hurries over to you and checks to see if you're okay. she doesn't mean to laugh, she just honestly can't help it sometimes. she does apologize for laughing if you're actually hurt, and she wouldn't do it again if it was a serious injury. she might actually scold you a little bit if it was a bad injury because of your clumsy ass while helping you with the first aid kit, mumbling curses under her breath about how one day you'll hurt yourself really bad. it's a little surprising but just tell her that you're fine, that you won't hurt yourself too badly, and she'll lighten up a little bit. but, she's not leaving your side ever. she knows you well enough to know you can get injured anywhere so she now does everything to ensure you don't get hurt, but it still happens sometimes unfortunately for her. she'll still scold you after every time.
lara
lara also might laugh, occasionally if she knows you're not seriously hurt. she can tell the difference in how you react when you get hurt if it's serious or not, and that's what determines how she reacts to it. if it's not serious, she just shakes her head while jokingly saying how clumsy you are but still helping you and babying you a bit. if it's serious then she's serious, she doesn't fuck around when you're actually hurt. she is immediately getting the first aid kit when she hears you yell and she is the calmest one to help you with the injury. the way her whole demeanor changes is surprising every time, and when she looks at you and asks if you're okay with genuine eyes and a soft voice you just fall more in love with her. she won't leave your side until she knows 100% you're okay and back to normal, calling out of schedules if she has to to make sure you're better.
megan
megan is nearly as bad as you. it's terrible. one of you is injured most of the time if not both of you. one day she'll be helping you and the next you'll be helping her it's never ending honestly. and somehow she freaks out every time you get hurt. as if you're dying on her! she tries her best to help you but there are times where she just gives you reassuring words while you patch yourself up if she can't. but she is doing everything under the sun for you if you get hurt more seriously. anything you ask of her she will do, and she'll ask you every ten minutes if you need anything or how you're doing. you want something to eat? she's driving to your favorite place and bringing it back for you. you want to watch a movie and relax? she's bringing every blanket and pillow possible and dimming the lights in case you fall asleep. she's down bad and it shows whenever you're hurt.
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kaechu1 · 1 month ago
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Do you still take requests? If so,can I have a platonic Hera with a Daughter reader, let's say the reader got cheated on and Hera came and comforted her and possibly cursed the cheating ex. That would be all thank you
platonic! hera with a daughter!
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ᡣ𐭩⁀➴ note: omg anon i love you so much, art from @/messymoonmad
ᡣ𐭩⁀➴ warning: none
ᡣ𐭩⁀➴ content: hurt/comfort, hera being the best mom ever, cheating , curses... alot. hugs and kisses ;3
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ᯓᡣ𐭩 you were hera favorite child, after all you were HER child who she had all by herself just like heaphestas. without needing to zeus.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 hera loves you and took care of you all by herself, now allowing anyone to even look at you ahem ahem zeus ahem.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 and she always try to keep you away from zeus other bastard children, she only allows you around athena and her children aka your real siblings, like ares and hebe.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 hera try to keep you away from getting in any relationship knowing it'll only ended breaking your heart specially as young goddess. but when she saw how happy you were with your lover she couldn't really do anything, your happiness matter to her after all.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 but when you first came to her crying she was shocked, who on olympus dare to make her daughter cry like this?? she was ready to curse them no matter what the reason is but when she knows that your lover cheated on you she was smitten with rage.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she try comfort you, hugging you closer to her kissing your head telling that's everything will be fine and they will pay for leaving such a goddess like you. after all, her daughter could never do wrong.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she'll try to take your minds off it, like taking you trying new dresses, jewelries, or even making your siblings spend time with you while she go talk curse to your ex. but hey!! at least ares take you with him to Aphrodite, she'll take care of you<333
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if your lover was mortal who cheated on you with another mortal, then she'll curse both until they wish they never even exist. how dare mere mortal like them to even disrespect her like this and leave her daughter for a disgusting mortal?
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if your lover was a god then she won't be afraid to do the same. they might be a god but she's the queen of the gods for fuck sake. and we all know what to happened when you piss off hera.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 aside from this hera would be always at your side, after all she knows how it feel like to have your trust breaking by the person you loved.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 anyway you can kiss the idea of having another lover goodbye because she's not having her daughter heart broken by another mere creature. unless you change her mind, then she might approved but depends on the lover you're chosing.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if they're mortal then no. nuh uh. nope. not happening. not on her watch. even if they're royal she doesn't want her daughter crying if one day that mortal decided to die for a stupid reason like getting struck by discus during a game (i have no regrets and not sorry)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 if they're immortal them depends, god or goddess? sure as long as they're not zeus children (which is rare) then she might accept it, but if they're demigod then no. she's not having her daughter dating some basterd child.
ᯓᡣ𐭩 she's hard to please but she just a mother, she can't go let her daughter date anyone and getting heartbreak like unresponsible parents (omg who said that???)
ᯓᡣ𐭩 but in the end, she just wants to see her daughter happy, so if you're happy with your partner, she's not going to stop you. but she'll definitely threaten your lover until they are afraid to even breathe wrong around you. but who cares you're happy and that's what she wants <3333
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lxkeee · 1 year ago
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⋆.˚ . FLY ME TO THE MOON ⋆.˚ ☾ .⭒˚.
—PART THREE
Pairing: Lucifer Morningstar x Archangel Raphael! Fem! Reader
Fandom: Hazbin Hotel
Notes: Lucifer and [y/n] will see each other again next chapter 👁️👁️
PART ONE | PART TWO | PART FOUR | MISC.
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A lot of timeskip...
[Y/n] sat in her office chair. Bored out of her mind. Hand fluidly moved in motion as she signed her signature in each document. Paper works. So much paperwork. Just because she finished her duties on the mortal realm for this week doesn't mean she doesn't have work to do back in heaven. She needs to do countless paperwork. Writing down every detail of what happened during her time on earth.
She groaned, placing down her pen on to the table. Throwing her head back lazily against the comfort of her chair.
It has been years since Lucifer's fall. Years after the meeting he asked for that concern about his hotel to redeem sinners.
Thinking back about it. She regrets the harsh words she has said to him during that meeting. Rather too cold for her liking.
She can't blame past her either. She was mad at Lucifer, who wouldn't?
Your best friend stopped spending time with you as he spent most of his time learning about the newly made humans God created.
And once he got the time to spend with her, he always talked about the mortal woman that God has created.
It was very annoying.
Then suddenly, he did what she warned him. Giving the fruit of knowledge to Eve that caused his fall from grace.
[Y/n] loved him, she still does.
She was mad that Lucifer neglected her. She was mad that an angel as beautiful as Lucifer chose a mortal woman.
She was... Jealous.
Now, she heard he has a family now.
She sighs, eyes looking down on her hand. The wedding ring she used to wear is now on her middle finger. She and Azrael are still married to each other platonically for shits and giggles.
They still loved each other platonically. Often having sleepovers at each other's houses.
She wondered, Azrael is such a great man. Everything she'll ever need in one. Smart, funny, sarcastic, intelligent, incredibly handsome, and loving.
It's truly unfortunate her heart lies within another.
She sighs softly. She's been doing that often lately.
As she was about to continue working, the door to her office bursts open and her ex-husband flamboyantly announced his grand entrance.
“Wifeyyy, I have tea to share. I know you'll be interested.” Azrael asked, [y/n] had to look up as the man was literally taller than her. His slicked back black hair shined against the chandelier lights. His eyes are half-lidded—showing off the golden eyeshadow he's wearing, a smirk on his mischievously attractive face. Pulling back a chair across her desk, he sat down.
[Y/n] raised an eyebrow at him, curious what gossip he has to share this time.
“What is it?” she asked lacing her hands and placing her elbows on the table and placing her chin on her knuckles.
Azrael smirked, playing with his staff.
“Luci has a family right?” he asked and [y/n] just looked at him with curiosity. Surprised that Azrael brought the topic of the fallen angel up.
“Yes, what about it?” she asked, raising an eyebrow at the angel in front of her.
“I heard his daughter is coming up here for a meeting, Morningstar's daughter wanted to propose an idea to... Redeem sinners. Reminds me of Lucifer.” Azrael says with a smirk and small chuckle.
“The apple doesn't fall far from the tree after all.” [y/n] says with a small shrug. She wondered if Lucifer's daughter would propose the same idea like his.
“Indeed. So, are you going to attend the meeting? I heard Sera is handling it this time. Lucifer's daughter sure is lucky she won't be having a meeting with the seven.” Azrael says with a smirk before pouting a little.
“When will it be?” [y/n] asked, picking up her pen once more as she resumed working.
“In two days.” Azrael says with a shrug.
“Unfortunately I have work, all seven of us do.” [y/n] says with a shrug, a bored tone in her voice.
Azrael sighed and nodded, “Unfortunately, but... We can still attend but not physically. Eavesdropping as what others call it.” Azrael says with a grin, snapping his fingers and two eyeballs with wings appeared out of nowhere.
“We can use these. Both of us can have an eye.” he suggested and [y/n] looked at him with a raised eyebrow, curious why this man is so interested in listening to a meeting that is probably a repeat of history.
“I can see that look in your eyes that you're wondering why I'm so eager to listen to this meeting. I have a feeling that something will be revealed during this meeting and I am curious to what it is. My instincts are never wrong.” Azrael says, eyes staring outside [y/n]'s window. He has a feeling that the Seraphims are hiding something and he wants to uncover that.
“A secret?” [y/n] asked, curiosity piqued.
“Yes, I have a feeling that the seraphims are hiding something and that is a no-no especially if a high seraphim is hiding something.” Azrael says, his voice becoming serious. [Y/n] looked at him, her eyes narrowed at the possibility. The seven virtues are barely in heaven and that means the seraphims are in charge of the order up here. Lately, Sera has been acting strange but they just dismissed it thinking it was nothing. Now that Azrael mentioned it, they need to find out the truth.
“I assume we don't need to tell them we'll be attending the meeting then?” [y/n] asked and Azrael smirked and nodded.
It was finally the day where Lucifer's daughter would visit heaven for a meeting. [Y/n] sat on her couch in the comfort of her home, a third eye on her forehead. It means her consciousness is connected to the flying eyeball Azrael allowed her to use. It is currently the courtroom, hiding from plain sight.
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Lucifer's daughter is really a copy of the said fallen angel. Same ideals too.
The meeting seems to be a bore, Charlie as what she learned the girl's name is, just proposed the same idea Lucifer proposed years ago.
The meeting was nothing but boring, annoying as she has to listen to Adam and Lute.
[Y/n] is still confused why that is in heaven and why he's being favored. The man is literally a walking asshole with a shit personality.
Azrael is probably in the same boat as her but he's back on earth doing his duties while simultaneously listening to this meeting.
The seven does not like Adam very much. Adam is too privileged.
Though, her views on the hotel changed as Charlie showed the progress of her guest, a demon named Angel Dust. Perhaps this silly hotel might actually work.
[Y/n] was about to stop listening and watching the meeting when Adam said something that caught her interest. Something that made her heart drop.
Exterminate... Extermination...
Of human souls.
Based on the reactions of other angels in the court, it was only Sera, Adam, Lute and other exorcists who knew about it.
Demon or not angels have no reason for doing this.
She's pissed and she could feel Azrael's annoyance from the eye she was using.
Who gave Sera the right to play God?
And the fact she didn't let the seven know about it is inexcusable.
The meeting ended and the two eyeballs remained hidden, eavesdropping on Emily and Sera.
So she's doing this because the demons were uprising?
Didn't they like to took care of it years ago? This just showed that Sera has no belief that heaven can handle a mere uprising of demons.
If the seven wanted to they could wipe out the entirety of hell. But no, there's no need for that. They have far more important matters to deal with such as trying to minimize the evil slowly growing on earth.
Hell couldn't steal heaven, they'd be dead before they could even enter the gates.
The third eye on [y/n]'s forehead closes and disappears. The others needed to know about this.
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The others were concerned about this, angry even. Heaven does not need to do this yearly cleansing but apparently it has been happening for a few years already. So many human souls are killed by the hands of angels.
The seven talked about this with their creator and of course, he didn't listen to their concerns about this. Though, he did promise that if a soul is actually redeemed then the cleansing isn't necessary and Sera would be placed on trial as the seraphim didn't tell the seven nor god about this decision. The seven virtues didn't tell Sera they knew and just continued doing their duties. They trust their creator, based on his voice. He knew something that they don't.
[Y/n] has a feeling that this silly hotel might even work and she can't wait to finally put Adam, the exorcists, and Sera back to their place. To remind them where their power lies within the heavenly ranks.
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TAGLIST:
@adaizel @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx @thedarkkitten @selvyyr @froggybich @brithedemonspawn @kottenox @totallymitya @many-fandoms-lover @dou-dou @mezzyb0nb0n @n1chxyaaenthusiast @cherry-4200 @koirb @galaxyj3lly @crystalplays28 @luleck @scootinonyourmom @rory-cakes @mixplara @crescent-z @bitchyzombienacho @kalisha2004 @altervex @nehy019 @napbatata
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hunnylagoon · 2 years ago
Text
Right Where You Left Me
Pt 4: The Sweetest Thing to Ever Scare You (Finale)
Ellie Williams x reader
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I remember when I first saw you. I remember looking into your warm almond eyes and feeling butterflies in my stomach. But soon, when I looked into your eyes, I no longer felt the same warmth that I once knew. It felt as though you had killed all of the butterflies inside my stomach but yet, I still loved you.
Premise: You and Ellie are childhood best friends until you drift apart. Funny thing about soulmates is they tend to find their way back to each other. You and Ellie try to end the tireless war between you.
Warnings: Angst / drinking / violence / not really religious mentions in this one
Part one here!
Part two here!
Part three over here!
Guys I thought I posted this two days ago but I actually just saved it to drafts. Sorry for being an idiot lmao
I think that I have unlearned how to love.
That’s not even a word but there is no other way to tell you that I have turned myself cold.
Without partying to distract me and religion to fill in gaps of emptiness, I isolate myself and begin to write once again. I'm almost certain that my body has been telling me to write, that I need to pour myself into art as opposed to a girl I was friends with a million years ago.
I figure that I need to create rather than destroy but it might take me a while to do so.
The morning after I abandoned my faith on the church floor, I had woken up and expected Ellie to be gone, however, she was wide awake and playing subway surfers on her phone. Her hair is messy and her eyes are half-lidded. 
She turns to look at me when she feels the shuffling of the bedsheets; despite her doing nothing more than smile at me it is like an understanding passed between us, war is over.
Almost.
It's like I've forgotten how to be soft, I can't manage to get the words out that I need to, and the thought of it alone makes me cringe. "Breakfast?" I ask, unsure of what else to say.
Ellie passes on it and I awkwardly excuse myself, saying that I got called in to take a brunch shift at work. Of course, this is not true. What I do is get into my car and drive and drive until I get mad at myself for burning gas. 
The war between Ellie and I had ended but it didn't register in my head, I almost fell in love with it. Without the constant arguing and passive aggressiveness, there was nothing to put a wall between us and I wasn't ready to be vulnerable again. 
So I begin to feed Ellie the ugliest parts of me; I show her everything I'm sure she will hate but she doesn't, she's patient and shows me the kindness I have been looking everywhere for. Still, I am cold to her, I don't know what else to do. 
I try to push her away all over again but this time, she doesn't let me. Ellie comes into my room when I'm studying to sit on my bed so that she can be in proximity to me. Sometimes she'll ask me if I want to go for a walk or a late-night gas station run, all of the things we used to do.
When I'm angry at her, she lets it happen, she won't escalate the fight all she does is apologize and does what she can to fix it. Everything feels like it's in order again, Joel even starts to send me little text messages to check in on me and sends me Facebook memes that make him think of me.
As of now, we are setting up for Dina's twenty-first birthday. The living room, typically a space for casual gatherings and movie nights, had undergone a transformation. Vibrant streamers adorned the walls, and an array of balloons in assorted hues scattered themselves along the floor "Are balloons too childish?" Abby asks as she walks out of her bedroom.
"They better not be after I just spent half an hour doing all of these," Cat answers, giving her a scornful glare.
"They look great, Cat," I smile and give her a thumbs-up from where I am in the kitchen dumping bags of chips into bowls. "Should I make a veggie platter?"
Cat furrows her eyebrows "If you can finish it by yourself, sure."
"Cat, we aren't children, adults eat vegetables," Abby takes a seat on the couch behind Cat, investigating the hard work she's put into making the living room look nice for just one night "Isn't it weird that Dina is organizing her own surprise party?"
I shrug, placing a wooden cutting board down on the kitchen counter "I don't blame her, I don't think we've always been one hundred percent reliable, me specifically."
"But it's not a surprise if she knows about it."
"So?" Cat asks.
"So why are we calling it a surprise party if it isn't a surprise?"
"Why not?"
"Well, why can't we just call it a party?"
"I don't think it matters," I cut in, I begin to peel carrots and slice them up into quarters. Ellie comes out of her bedroom, she took a nap after completing her physics presentation, her hair in a messy bun, and she's in her typical pyjama uniform of sweats and a hoodie. "Hey, Ellie," I smile at her.
She rubs some sleep away from her green eyes "Hey," Ellie walks over to the kitchen island where I slice and chop vegetables and sits right in front of me. Even half asleep she looks like a statue of marble carved by a skilled hand.
Abby raises an eyebrow, asking 'When did you guys become friends?' without saying it and then it hits me like the plane in Lost. Ellie still hasn't told anyone about our history, our sixteen years of friendship is invisible to the eyes of those who think they know us well.
I'm broken from my thoughts when Abby speaks up "When are you picking up the cake?"
My heart drops "I'm not?"
Cat and Abby cast one another side glances while Ellie snatches a cucumber off my cutting board "Dina was handing out duties and you said you would take care of the cake."
I freeze, unsure of what to say "Nuh-uh." I shake my head like a child denying blame for breaking her mother's favourite dish.
"Yuh-huh," Cat shoots back. "How could you forget that?"
My mind fumbles for an excuse and somehow I land on "I forgot because I went temporarily insane from Lyme disease," What am I saying? "I got Lyme disease because I go camping in secret," I don't camp "And I never told you guys that I go camping because I'm deeply ashamed of it."
Now everyone looks perpetually confused, Ellie included "What are you talking about?" Abby asks, her eyebrows furrowed.
"Okay-well," I place my knife flat on the counter by the wooden cutting board, ignoring the odd spiel I just went on "I'm going to drive to-
"You dropped your car off for a suspension repair yesterday," Abby reminds me.
"Ellie is going to drive me to get a cake," I correct myself "I will be back to finish making my veggie plate." I quickly rinse my hands before grabbing Ellie's keys from the little jewelry dish on the island and yank the sleeve of her hoodie to pull her along.
Ellie doesn't say anything, she slips into some Crocs and we walk outside to her car. "Where are we headed?"
"Uh, hang on," In Ellie's passenger seat, I go on Google Maps to look up the closest bakeries that are still open at this hour, there are two, one a couple of streets away and the other one is across town and closing in twenty minutes. "Infectious Confections," I wrinkle my nose "That's a weird fucking name."
While Ellie tries to make conversation in the car I only speak when giving her directions to the bakery. She knows something is up and I can tell by the way she keeps glancing at me. I just can't manage to get it out of my head that she's still keeping me a secret. 
She pulls up to the bakery and I get out before she even turns her car off, she pulls the keys out of the ignition and trails behind me through the doors.
The bakery itself was rustic and clean, there were two display cases and tills one of the displays held danishes, croissants, cookies, scones and whatever those little swirly flakey things are called. The other display had a big chalk menu above it that read 'Cakery' Though what was in the display case was very sparse.  
"Hi," I walk up to the till, putting on the friendly smile and customer service voice that I usually only use at work. "This is pretty short notice but I was wondering if you had any cakes left or if I could get one made for today?"
The guy behind the counter is a scrawny teenager who looks like he has had a long enough day of dealing with annoying customers "We close in half an hour, there's not enough time to bake and decorate a cake." He explains it like he's said this to a million people, he's bored of the same phrases that his manager has scripted out for him.
"Any shot that someone didn't pick up their cake?" I ask, fingers crossed in the hope that he says yes.
"Let me talk to my manager," His voice drags on, and he turns around and disappears through a commercial kitchen door. I wait patiently, hands balled together in front of me as I rock back and forth on my heels. A minute or two later he comes back holding a bright blue cake with pink detailing of bows and mustaches, there's text on it that reads 'It's a...' gender reveal cake. "This is all we have left, they cancelled last minute.
I look back at Ellie to get her opinion, her eyebrows are furrowed slightly "Maybe we good just get some of those cupcakes and smush them together and smear the icing so it looks like a cake."
I wave her off "I'll buy it," I say this only because it is 5:41 and with each passing minute I am growing desperate, also I don't want Jesse to be disappointed that I fumbled the cake and ruined his girlfriend's birthday.
Angsty teenager puts the bright blue monstrosity into a cake box and charges me an absurd total for it, I bitterly tap my card on the machine. 
As I walk back out to Ellie's car I take a brief moment to look at the sky, it's the same hue as cotton candy and looks as if it had been projected from a watercolour painting, even after I get back into the car and Ellie begins to blast her old dad rock songs, I can't tear my eyes away from it.
After five minutes of silence from my end, Ellie finally asks the question that's been burning into the forefront of her brain "Why are you being weird?"
"Why haven't you told anyone that we met before we moved in together?"
Her dark eyebrows furrow "You haven't told anyone either-
"Yes, I have."
"Who?"
"Yara, Stacy, Kayla, Mitch, Nigel, Carmen, literally everyone from my work," I admit "I just haven't told people who know you personally so it can't make its way back to you because you clearly don't want people to know."
She falls silent, searching her mind for the right words. She clutches the steering wheel tight and looks dead ahead at the car's bumper-to-bumper ahead of us. "I just know how to slip it into conversation."
"I don't think it's that hard, you can just say that we were friends, you don't need to give an intricate play-by-play of everything that happened."
"Why is it important that people know if we're cool again?"
I turn my head to slowly look at her "You are the one who always said 'If we don't have honesty, we have nothing at all'," I point out.
Silence strings between us again, I almost want to throw up.
'We're cool again' Nope, not anymore, we are so very far from cool. Instead of Ellie casting me little glances as she had on the ride there, she ignores my presence almost completely while I glare daggers at her. Was she embarrassed by me? When we went to lunch together why did she lie to Dina about where she was? When she slept in my bed why did Cat ask me if I knew why Ellie came home at eight AM with nothing, not even a key? Did she crawl through my bedroom window to walk around to the front door and pretend she was just getting home?
AND WHY DIDN'T I CALL HER OUT?
She was keeping me a secret and that realization hurt worse than any injury I had ever suffered. She hasn't even told her dead who practically raised me that we lived together. 
God, we weren't even anything and she was keeping me under wraps like I was some disgraceful secret that she would get shamed for holding. The very second she approached our house, I got out of her car, she hadn't even stopped it completely but cake in hand, I hopped out of her car door and didn't look back.
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I think I've had my fair share of partying.
After that month-long bender I had where I went to clubs every night and replaced food with vodka, I never wanted to even look at another solo cup full of liquor. Instead of drinking, smoking, or doing karaoke, I hide from Ellie.
I hide from her in conversations and sometimes sneak into my bedroom just to get a bit of breathing room from all of the strangers in my house. Wherever Ellie was, I was not. If she was outside, I was inside, if she was in the living room, I was in the kitchen enjoying my veggie platter. 
Have you ever been the only sober person around in a group of people? If the answer is no, have you ever babysat a houseful of toddlers? Because it's just about the same thing.
When I'm not hiding from the girl who wriggled her way back into my good graces just to trip herself off the podium, I'm cleaning up, protecting our furniture, holding back hair as girls I've never met sob into the toilet, and stopping the drunk from doing stupid things. 
"Hey, buddy," I take my can of hairspray that this frat-adjacent man is holding behind an ignited lighter "I don't think you would look good as a burn victim," His friends moan in disappointment as I do so, they were very excited to see a makeshift flamethrower; I wasn't in the mood to have my house burn down, or have a guy with peach fuzz waste my thirty dollar hair spray. 
Thirty dollars?
Note to self for later: Make smarter spending choices (And smarter relationship choices!).
I felt a tap on my shoulder only to turn around and see Dina, she wasn't drunk, just tipsy "Smile!" She holds up a camera to her eye and clicks the shudder button before I even have a chance to react the flash goes off. A large Polaroid begins to print out, Dina snatches it and shakes it until you can see my silhouette, my eyes are wide, my hair flying behind me from the quick turn of my head and I'm holding a can of hairspray angled to look like I'm going to spray the camera with it "Cute!" She smiles, tucking it into her pocket for later "Wait, I want a group picture of the roommates."
Dina takes my hand and pulls me to one of the couches where Ellie and Abby sit with some guy, she shoes him to get up and drags Cat over to replace him, she stands me in between Ellie and Abby and lightly pushes me down to sit wedged between the two.
"Jesse, please do not do me dirty with this picture," She hands the pink Polaroid camera to her boyfriend and quickly ushers herself to the far left of the couch where she bends over to kiss Cat on the cheek for the picture. Ellie and I are stiff and awkward when the flash goes off. 
After the picture is taken, Ellue turns to face me just the slightest "Hey, I think we should talk-
"I think it's time for cake!" I push myself off the couch and usher myself to the kitchen. 
I pull the cake out of the fridge, looking at what I had done to salvage it; Below the part that said 'It's a...' I wrote '21 year old!' in chocolate pre-made Betty Crocker icing that I had in the fridge for months, it didn't look the best, but it could've been worse.
Dina, of course, cackles when she sees it. To her, it is the funniest thing she's seen all night. I stick the candles in and light it with the light I confiscated from peach fuzz frat boy and push the cake towards Dina after tucking the light back into my pocket, she is illuminated in the glow of iPhone flash all filming her.
"Make a wish!"
Age Sixteen- Grade 11
I think back to how embarrassing it felt to be thoughtful.
How fragile I felt when I would share my feelings and how frail I seem when I do it now. Ellie was always tougher than I was, in rugby, in fights, just in general. That's why I figured she would be taking it better than me when I cut contact, once again I have been proven wrong.
"Conner, can we please just leave?" I pleaded with my then-boyfriend. The night had started fine but after a couple of drinks Ellie and I were becoming increasingly hostile to one another, it wasn't my intention to speak to her but the universe forced my hand when we were shoved into a circle of our friends and made to converse around the bonfire at the beach.
The salty breeze carried the sounds of laughter and the gentle crashing of waves, the scent of roasted marshmallows wafted through the air.
 "What, you need your boyfriend's permission or something?" Ellie held a can of berry blast Smirnoff, staring into my soul from the other side of the fire, the sparks glitter through the night like fireflies. Her words don't feel too bad but they don't feel too good either.
I cast her a glare before I looked back to my boyfriend "Please?" 
He is getting perpetually annoyed with me he shrugs away from my grasp, "Fuck off, we just got here," He mutters, Conner must think I couldn't hear it. He had already downed three Bud lights and a couple of shots of cheap vodka, now he is nursing another beer in hand. 
"Excuse me?" I say, narrowing my eyes. Everyone around the fire pauses their conversation to tune into mine. "Come on," I stand up and try to pull him along so we can have a conversation away from the prying eyes of our friends.
I can't pull the mass of the 6'2 quarterback along with me but he obliges and follows me where I yank him. As I drag him along the rest of the group giggle and makes jokes along the lines of 'Trouble in paradise' but Ellie is the only one who doesn't jump back into mindless conversation, her unnerving eyes are still on me while I chew my boyfriend out by the shoreline. 
"Why do I have to leave just because you're feeling a little bummed out?" 
I'm almost floored at out someone can lack so much empathy "Because you're my boyfriend?" I can feel myself tensing up.
"Why does that mean you can't get up and leave on your own?" He defends "You begged me to come here and now I just wanna down a couple of beers and hang out with my friends."
"You've already drank like twenty!" I retort.
"It's a fucking party!" Conner says, raising his voice "It's a party and it's summer and you're seriously trying to tell me not to have fun?"
"Fuck!" I shout in frustration "Why don't you ever call me? Why can't you ever let me in?" The argument is quickly escalating "Why didn't you tell me that you kissed Tamar and why haven't you told me that you love me?"
"Because I don't."
My words fail me. I knew he didn't, I knew that he hardly even liked me. My dad had thought so highly of him, she said he was the type of guy to rescue a baby from a burning building but as I look at him now, I figure that he eats babies.
I almost open my mouth to say something different, almost, but I don't. The rest of my life might have turned out differently if I didn't, I might've been able to salvage the rotting corpse of my relationship with Ellie but I didn't. "Fine," I say, voice calm and quiet "Let's stay."
Before that night I had never really gotten drunk but the second I got back to the bonfire, I was digging through the cooler and shotgunning canned Smirnoff. "Woah," Riley laughs "Someone's finally being a bad influence."
I got myself so shit-faced that when everyone else got up to dance to the music blaring through the Bluetooth speaker, I sat by myself at the shoreline, looking bitterly out towards to ocean while the tides crash at my feet and get sucked back into the ocean. For a moment I think about jumping in and letting my lax body get washed away and sink beneath the surface until I wash up as a water-bloated corpse that some nine-year-old will find when they're beach combing.
My mouth tastes like peroxide and blood, my lungs burn with a red-hot pain. The wind is becoming increasingly harsh and I ignore the hair that is tangled into my golden hoop earrings.
"Wow, you look awful," I don't need to turn around to know who it is.
"Can you just fuck off?" I say "I don't give a shit about you, just leave me alone."
She always had to antagonize me, Ellie went out of her way to stray from the group and bother me. It had something to do with the alcohol in her system. Despite her alleged hatred for me, she takes a seat next to me regardless.
"Fuck, you're so sensitive," She scoffs "I don't know why you're dating him, I'm not even sure why you'd want to fuck him unless you're too lazy to jerk off-
My hands think before my head and I deck Ellie right in the side of her face, getting a solid hit to her cheekbone. My hand flies over my mouth "I'm sorry, I-
Ellie doesn't waste any time in lunging back at me, she pushes me down by my shoulders until my back is in the shallow of the water that moments ago just splashed at my feet and takes a swing. The impact of her punch almost knocks me sober.
I take a sharp inhale, grabbing her elbows and pulling her down to where she was the one on her back and I was the one straddling her. I land one last blow to her nose, I hear a crunch and the panic immediately sends me scrambling to my feet. My eyes go wide at the blood dripping down, her face I turn to run but Ellie is faster, she grabs me by my hair and yanks me down further into the water with her. 
"Fucking cunt!" I cry, though my scream is drowned out by the overwhelmingly loud tides crashing on the shore "Get the fuck off me!" 
Ellie is better at fighting than I am, I had never been on this side of her before, usually, I had been the one to drag her away from fights but now I am the one who is going to stumble home numb from the devastating pain.
Frankly, I'm fucking scared.
She continues to drag me by my hair until I'm knee-deep in the water with her, she almost throws her entire weight into me, dunking me beneath the surface where her bony hands snake around my neck. My eyes have gone blurry with the salt water, they sting and burn. I can't see anything, all I can do is uselessly thrash beneath her. My hands push against her face, trying to pry her off my body. 
Eventually, I manage to claw her face with my fingernails, I dig deep enough that it breaks skin and she recoils just enough for me to knee her in the stomach and let me get out from under her. Just as I try to slip away she reaches for my hair again, but instead of tugging on my hair, she rips out my gold hoop earring. I screech out in agony, hand reaching for where the metal sliced through the lobe of my ear, I shudder in pain; my cries are now jagged and harsh.
This is the exact moment Ellie begins to regret what she's done. "Fuck, I'm so sorry, I didn't mean to." Her tone softens and she tries to approach me but I back away from her like a frightened dog.
"Get away from me!" Despite the pain surging in my body, I find the strength in me to hit her again, she staggers back tripping into the water. I hit her so hard that I feel a crack in my knuckle and I yelp out in the immediate shock of pain. 
I wasn't sure when the others had noticed this was happening probably because my vision had gone blurry from salt water and adrenaline but before Ellie could hit me again, she was being restrained by Riley and Kennedy while some guy who I had probably had two conversations with dragged my back to shore.
I keel over on my hands and knees and begin to start retching onto the sand. Laila rubs a gentle hand on my back, my hair sticking wet on my forehead. A seagull, disturbed by the commotion, took flight, its wings cutting through the charged air. 
Next to the pile of vomit I just heaved, blood drips down from my ear, pooling and then soaking into the sand. My neck swells from what is still the raw sensation of Ellie closing her hands around it. 
I look up at Ellie, there is blood that has dripped its way into her mouth, clinging to her white teeth. She has what almost looks like a cat scratch running down her cheek, blood begins to prick and spill from the lacerations.
She stares back at me and we don't say a word but we understand each other clearly, I never want to see you again.
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"Let's go," Ellie grabs my arm as Dina begins to slice the cake "We're gonna fix this right now."
"Ellie, there are so many people here," I say in a hushed tone so people can't hear me.
"I don't mean here," She looks at me, face expressionless "Just get in my car."
"Excuse me?" I say, tone accusing "Did you just order me to get in your car?"
"Fuck," She sighs, dropping my wrist to rub her hands down her face "Please can you get in my car so we can work this through."
"There's nothing to work through," I retort "You're embarrassed by me or you still secretly hate me and that's fine, I meant what I said on winter break about the lease, the second it's up, I'm getting the fuck out of here."
"What? No, don't- just," She takes a breath, reevaluating what to say "I have a point to make but I can't make it unless you get in my car."
We stare at each other for a moment, I narrow my eyes and she is still unmoving. Every scenario runs through my head of what could be waiting for me in that car.
"Fine."
I sit silently in her passenger seat, my knees are pulled into my chest and I rest my chin on them. Ellie doesn't say anything either as she drives. I watch each traffic light pass me, every street name to try and make sense of where we are going.
I almost feel like I'm going to suffocate beneath the silence of everything going left unsaid.
When I spot the boardwalk up ahead, I know exactly where she's taking me "Ellie, why are we at the beach?" I give her a side glance "Do I need to take out my earrings?"
Heat rises to her cheeks when I say this, "Not yet," She jokes, getting out of her car and grabbing a tote bag from the back seat, and I follow in tow.
We walk past the boardwalk and onto the sandy beach, I'm already not feeling whatever she's doing; there is sand filling up my Converse and a slight wind chill, I'm really wishing I had a hoodie right now. "Can you tell me what we're doing yet?" I'm hugging myself in an attempt to stay warm "If we're still walking on the beach why couldn't we have just walked on the boardwalk instead? It literally has walk in the name." I'm already going off on one of my tangents.
She still walking ahead of me but she briefly turns around to face me "Can you just stop asking questions for a minute?"
"Okay, whatever," I mutter, trailing behind her still. I can hardly see in the night, the only light to guide us is the moon and the warm ceiling lamps from restaurants along the boardwalk. I can vaguely see Ellie's silhouette, she's outlined by the gentle glow radiating off the moon, I try my best not to stumble over things poking out of the sand that have been lost to sight by darkness. 
"Okay," Ellie stops, "Here we are."
"Where are we?" I ask "I can't see shit, I don't know where here is."
Ellie digs around in her pocket for her phone and turns on a flashlight and it reveals a small iron firepit that was cemented into a slab of concrete in the sand. She hands me her phone so I can keep the flash on her and she can see what she's doing. 
She pulls out some pages ripped out from her notebook "Can you hand me your lighter?"
My eyebrows furrowed, and I felt around in my pocket wondering if I even had one. I did, it had slipped my mind that I still had the bic lighter that I confiscated from Peach Fuzz. I hand the lighter to her and watch as she tucks the pages beneath logs that were in the firepit before we arrive, they are somewhat charred but still viable.
She flicks the lighter to ignite it and the paper catches immediately. The initial flicker grew into a tentative blaze, licking at the edges of the kindling. The crackling sound echoed through the night. 
Once she is sure the fire can survive without her feeding it, she steps away. "Alright, let's have it out."
"Like sex?" I scrunch up my nose.
"Oh my god, no, like let's talk this through." She pinches her nose bridge, taking a breath in before exhaling and putting her hand back down "We're gonna recreate the night of the bonfire how it should've been," Ellie reached back into her bag and pulled out two white claws "I snagged these from Dina's party, sorry this was kind of last minute."
I can't help the smile that grows on my face, I take one of the white claws and crack it open "I don't know how authentic this is gonna be if there isn't any canned Smirnoff."
I think back to exactly how that night played out and I take a seat on the sand, facing the crashing dark ocean. I sip my white claw, as expected Ellie takes a seat next to me, just what happened on the actual night.
"Wow," She says "You look really pretty and I'm an idiot for ever saying you looked awful," Ellie looks gorgeous illuminated by the orange light of the fire, and the breeze causes her flyaway hairs to drift in the wind. "I'm an asshole for pretending that I didn't know you, I was scared I would get hurt again and take it to heart like I did last time. I promise the second we get home that I'll come clean."
I don't know if I can deal with this sugary philosophy. She's being so sweet that it's rotting my teeth.
"Ellie," I say gathering my thoughts, it was so hard being honest with my feelings, it felt like I would get hospitalized if I showed any emotion. "I was so in love with you in high school that it killed me, and I was terrified that my parents would throw me out well, they did- but that's why I pushed you away and there isn't a day that goes by where I don't regret it." 
The surprise on her face morphs into a soft smile "What about now?" she asks "Do you still love me?"
I shrug, it's honest "I dunno, but I think there's room to try."
She looks from me to the ocean and the way the moonlight glitters off the surface "What happened next?" Ellie toys with the tab of her drink "Did you hit me?"
"Yeah," I say softly, following her gaze out to the waters "But if we're doing the night how it should've been, I'd rather just kiss you."
Ellie turns her head back to look at me. She shoves her white claw into the sand then takes my face into one of her hands and kisses me like it's her job, so tender and carefully like she's afraid I will break beneath pressure.
How weak have I become? My heart is so full of her that I can hardly call it my own.
A/N: Be grateful for this ending because I was very tempted to give you guys an unhappy one. Sorry that I forgot to post this lol, I’m sad this series is over but excited to show you all my next one which may be the angst-iest yet 👀
Thanks for reading!
Tag list: @elliesaturnsoftdrink @elliesaesp @melanie-watermelon @yalaysbee @laundrybag29 @readbydayana @skylerwhitwyo @lmaoo-spiderman @joliettes @kittnii @taylorgracies @sameenatruther @mikellie @belles-hell @fullmachinegirl @eveshyper @whosmica
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vandal-flower · 5 months ago
Text
For the Love of Norse!
Odin x Reader.
Requested.
Plot: You have feelings for the Chief god Odin for eons. When will you confess to him, who knows? Maybe at the Grand Party to celebrate Zeus' reign over the Heavens?
Warnings: It's Odin. I don't know how ya'll can like him...but we listen, we don't judge. Minor Angst.
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Since the beginning of time, you had a crush on the Chief god, Odin.
You've known him better than anyone, better than anything. But despite that, you got flustered at the meer presence of him. Not that you could be blamed for such reaction, after all he is deemed to be quite handsome among a few goddesses. And his voice gives him an extra bonus to his character.
You had thoughts of finally confessing to him, to show him how you love him dearly. However, the fear of rejection fills you every time. What if he ignores you for the rest of your life? What if his ravens mock you for years to come?
The 'what if's' are the only thing in your mind, and in the end you just remain quiet.
You're thankful that no one knows you have feelings for Odin. Had anyone ever knew such fact, you would've of been a laughing stock. It's a fate worse than death itself.
Should that ever happen...
You might consider taking that job offer Hades gave you in the Underworld. Or ask Thor to strike you with his hammer.
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The Zeus and Hera's anniversary was coming up, and most of the Pantheons were putting up decorations and making preparations as requested from Zeus himself.
You were in charge of ensuring that everything was just right. This meant you were running around 24/7. When you were busy looking over the decorations, someone approached you.
"May I ask what you may be doing, (Name)?", they asked. You didn't turn around to look at who was asking you, but instead focused on your work. In short, you simply brushed them off.
If there was something you wished you could change about yourself, it would be to stop prioritizing your work over actual issues. As you look at the god asking you, you go silent. It's Odin. The god you've had a crush on for years...
Without thinking, you take a few steps back before running away from him. His ravens call onto you, loudly scolding you for your lack of respect, but he silences them.
He's noticed that you've been acting strange for many years. At first it didn't bother him, but he's becoming worried, something he won't admit. He asked his fellow Chief gods on how to approach the situation, but barely got answers. Well, answers that weren't up to his standard.
He knows he's unapproachable, but he's never scared you before. He's known you for... a long time now.
He has to find out what wrong with you. Preferably without his ravens, before they chase you away.
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You've noticed how Odin has been eyeing you down lately. You wonder if you have offended him in any way. You look back at the encounter you had with him, and it makes you worry to your stomach.
Of course he would be offended! You, quite literally brushed him off when he asked you a question. Not only is this deemed inappropriate behaviour for a god, but to act like that before the Chief god, Odin himself!?
You're sure he's coming for your head.
As you sat near the fountain in the greenhouse, beside you was the eldest valkyrie Brunhilde. "I don't even know what you see in that old man. Other than being a Chief god, there is really not much going for him. As well as the lame excuse for ravens on his shoulders."
You jumped in shocked at her words. "You can't just say that Brun! Besides, you have never seen him in his glory days.", her face twists into confusion as she tries to imagine the Norse god as a young man. She'll never understand.
"You're just happy he doesn't need to use a cane like Zeus.", she chuckled at how loudly you gasped. Although she had a point, some truths ate not meant to said.
"Brunhilde! I came to you for advice, not to joke about my situation.", out of anyone in the Norse Pantheon, she was the only one who knew about your crush on Odin.
She shrugged off your scolding, rolling her eyes at your reactions. "Why don't you just tell him? If he accepts you'll be fine and live happily ever after-"
"And if he rejects me?"
She pauses for a moment, "Take up Hades' job offer. Simple as that." You hide your face in your hands, embarrassed at the possibility of being rejected, furthermore, his ravens will shout the latest news on how you confessed your feelings to Odin and how he rejected you.
"I'd rather have Thor end my life swiftly, Brun. I'm sure he'll do it with no questions asked.", you mumble quietly to yourself, unfortunately she heard you.
"You're only saying that because he respects you, and also you bailed him out the other day.", she recalled how Thor snuck out from his duties to meet his lover, you helped him not get caught and therefore, you have his gratitude.
You dig your hands into your head as an attempt to ignore what she is saying. It doesn't work. Brunhilde looks down at you, muttering to herself before taking your hands into hers.
"Why don't you just confess to him at the party Zeus is holding? I doubt he'll stop so low to make a mockery of you."
"What about the birds?"
"They'll be drowning themselves in food, besides if they do find out, we can always cook them and replace them with other birds. Like chickens."
"BRUNHILDE!"
"What? I'm just speaking the truth!"
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The air felt stuffy. Every being you could imagine was here. From the gods to lower rank angels, many were here to celebrate Zeus and Hera's wedding anniversary. If there is anything you noticed about Zeus, it was that he was big on parties.
Everyone was here. Except Odin.
You've seen Loki lurking around somewhere to cause mischief, and Thor's iconic red hair above the crowd, hammer in hand just in case someone wants to fight him. Not like anyone would ever.
All the valkyries were here, every deity of the Norse Pantheon was present, all but their Chief god. What if something happened to him? What if he wasn't able to attend, because he was so disgusted with your behaviour prior?
"The food here is quite tasteless if you ask me!"
"You're just saying that because all you is the same old food back at the palace!"
Oh, he is here.
The noise of Huggin and Munnin caught your attention, and there was Odin, seated next to his fellow peers at a table. He had not said a word to either of them, but was noticeably invested in the conversation. And then he took a look at you.
Quietly, you slipped away in the crowd, before walking to the hallway. Brunhilde's words of encouragement left your mind as quickly as you left the room.
"Is there something wrong uncle? You seem more quiet than usual, did you forget something important?", Loki flew to his side, his feigned concern.
Sighing to himself, the chief god stood from his seat and walked away, leaving his two winged companions behind with the other gods. "Nothing you should you concern yourself about."
The guests at the table threw a surprised look at him as he walked away.
"I just have business to take care of."
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Walking through the hallway, your footsteps echo as you recall what had happened. You are an idiot. It's official.
With how you have been acting these past days, you've made a fool of yourself not once, but twice. Sure, there could have been worse, but this is the worst you have ever felt in years. Embarrassing moments are nothing compared to how you felt now.
If only you sink into the ground...
That job offer from Hades, or being slammed into the ground by Thor...
"(Name)."
You knew that voice from anywhere, it was Odin. You turn around only to take notice that he wore something different than his usual clothes. It was a suit, it fitted him quite well if you had to be honest. His hair was also different, was tied up in a ponytail. He looked even more handsome than before.
"Oh, All-father. Good evening to you, I see that you are faring well.", you put on a professional façade to try convince him and yourself that everything was alright.
"You've been acting strange for some time now. Explain.", he stared you down, not out of intimidation, it was just how he looked. "It's nothing you should concern yourself. Please, you don't have to worry about me."
Time stood still, cold air brushed past you and the light from outside shone onto the both of you. "You are a terrible liar, you know this better than anyone else."
He took a few steps closer to you, closing the gap between the two of you. "Tell me."
You briefly recall Brunhilde's words,'Why don't you just tell him?'
His eye widens slightly, as the following words leave your mouth.
"I love you."
He doesn't stop you, he continues to look at you.
"Ever since the beginning of time I loved you! I feared that you would rejected me, or worse, tarnish my name through out all the Heavens. I don't know why I thought avoiding you would make things easier, but..."
You took a moment to breathe, tears nearly spill from your eyes as you try to collect yourself. "But in the end, I ended up embarrassing myself in front of you...Pathetic isn't it?"
Without saying a word, he wipes your tears with his thumbs. He takes a moment to look at you closer as his thumbs rest on the sides of your face.
You really are beautiful. He enjoys your company more than anyone else, and you've known him for quite a long time. You've always carried yourself in high regard, a trait that many either admire, envy or loathe. But, to see you like this...
Something in him hurts. Calling yourself 'pathetic', feelings of anger begins to grow within him. You look away as an attempt to save face, as if it wasn't already too late.
"You're foolish enough to think that I'd reject you. To your credit, I've been worried about you, and wondered if you hated my presence.", he gently rubs his thumb on your cheeks.
"And yet, you were worried about if I would reject your confessions. (Name), you never cease to surprise me."
Your eyes returned to look at his face. He presented you his best smile, one you have only seen in combat, but the same one that perfectly portrayed how pleased he was. He was smiling, at you.
"So, if I may ask, do you accept my love for you?", your voice cracked as the words left your mouth.
"Hmm. I'd be fool if I had not accept the adoration from a being like yourself. I'm truly honored to receive such love.", he took your hand, and placed a kiss on the tips of your fingers, his eyes never leaving you. You were going to faint.
"As compensation, I would like to offer the same amount of love you have held for me, right back to you. Would you allow me to do the honor?"
You frantically nodded your head, a silent "yes" escaped your lips.
You were going to love this man more than you did before. And what is even better, is the fact he will love you just as much.
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Unbeknownst to the newly couple, Brunhilde, Loki, and Thor, observed the scene behind a door.
"Oh~, it seems uncle finally got what he wanted, took him long enough.", a smile etched on Loki's face, catching stares from the thunder god and valkyrie.
Thor took a deep sigh, and Brunhilde rolled her eyes. "For the love of Norse."
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Sorry if Odin is a bit ooc. I had this molding for quite a while now.
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