#someone gives him the keys to their house and car and george thinks 'as you should' /j | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

talesofstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.”

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be.

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go.

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays.

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home.

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing.

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids.

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve.

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea.

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy.

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry.

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead.

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone.

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go.

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too.

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again.

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door.

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse.

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub.

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577.

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows.

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see.

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him.

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else.

“Just a pint,” I tell him.

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her.

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop.

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl.

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where.

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head.

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do.

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight.

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1.

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born.

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.”

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly.

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight.

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns.

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly.

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention.

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis.

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again.

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle.

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did…

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing.

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle.

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics.

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk.

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap.

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it.

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time.

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either.

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window.

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me.

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly.

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it.

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me.

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room.

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly.

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up.

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal.

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life.

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What?

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say.

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.”

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.”

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it.

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me.

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now.

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife.

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk.

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle.

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh.

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer.

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter.

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.”

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head.

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly.

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?”

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm.

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.”

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards.

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses.

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her.

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead.

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door.

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week.

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating.

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside.

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed.

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously.

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.”

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll.

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me.

Read part II here!

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #dad!harry #dad harry styles #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles imagines

1K notes · View notes

peakgenko · 4 years ago

Text

Songs the Haikyuu boys would slow dance with you to...

CW; suggestive sexual themes

N/A, my heart nutted while writing this tbh

not proofread!!

Kei Tsukishima

Dream A Little Dream of Me- The Mamas & The Papas

I don’t even know how i made this connection but i feel like tsukishima hums a lot of old songs and so this would be one of them

Or slow dancing in the dark by joji. it’s his favourite song. because of you.

Yuu Nishinoya

So Good At Being in Trouble- Unknown Mortal Orchestra

You’d rock back and fourth with him slowly while his lips press against the back of your hand— his eyes staring intently while he hums the lyrics

Shoyo Hinata

I’m Yours- Jason Mraz

So it’s not really something you can slow dance to but this is definitely his song for you. He sings this to you in the showers, during pillow talk, or drum the rhythm with his fingers against a Tupperware when he’s cooking something for you.

He’ll pull you in by the waist and nuzzle his head up against your back with a grin.

At this point it’s his favourite song because it always gets him in the mood. But that’s only because he thinks of you when he hums it.

Rintarō Suna

Versace On The Floor- Bruno Mars

OMG

okay so I imagine the two of you on some dance floor. Like at a club. I head canon that he’s good at dancing. Effortlessly too.

The music stops and and they choose a slow song to end the evening

You’re wearing a dress that cuts off mid thigh. And he’s in a little suit. His blazers loose and his collared shirt is buttoned down since it got a little heated in the midst of sweaty bodies practically grinding up against eachother

Underneath the red and purple spotlights, specks of iridescent lights from the disco ball hanging from the ceiling arrange themselves on your faces.

He’s singing the lyrics wholeheartedly with a fox like grin while his hands roam down to your ass. Although it’s intent was far from sexual.

Atsumu Miya

Corduroy Dreams- Rex Orange County

LOVE LOVES WHISTLING IT TO YOU

Definitely does kiss you in the shower for a couple hours.

He’s fresh out of the shower and he’s wearing nothing but a pair of sweatpants. Drops of water race down to his feet as they roll down his bare chest. You have your towel wrapped around your chest

One hand laced with his, he leads you in a slowing pace around the room with a chirpy smile.

Osamu Miya

Blessed- Daniel Caeser

i’m not sure how i made this conclusion but i’m gonna go with it

He has the prettiest voice when he sings along.

It’s not really dancing though. He has your back facing his chest while his arms enveloped on top of your collar bones and shoulders. He’s pecking gentle kisses against your cheek while rocking back and fourth to the song while you two prepare breakfast.

Keishin Ukai

Fly Love- Jamie Foxx

I imagine you two on some sort of resort of beach. You two are soaked of water but this song just happens to pop up so you stand there in his arms while he teasingly blows a cloud of smoke into your face.

Keiji Akaashi

HENTAI BY CIGARETTES AFTER SEX!!!!

okay for those of you who don’t know that song i know by the title of the song it looks sus and trust me he was definitely skeptic of it as well but give it a listen because now you’re all he ever thinks about when he hears this song.

he swears he’ll dance to this with you in his arms on your wedding day.

if you’re feeling angsty, he’d definitely hold you close and dance with you to the swan by camille saint-saëns

Wakatoshi Ushijima

I Hear A Symphony- Cody Fry

He loves how classy it sounds and it perfectly describes how he feels about you. hell it may even be his favourite song.

He felt like volleyball was his only purpose and for a while he was more than okay with that. until he met you and now he strives for more in life. Hence the whole “I used to hear a simple song” verse. loves putting emphasis in his tone when singing “perfection is so quick to bore...you are my beautiful by far” (only to himself of course) homeboy gets a little embarrassed when it comes to singing.

Daichi Sawamura

Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby- Cigarettes After Sex

I don’t even need to have a scenario for this like he just radiates this energy:((

Like imagine his cheek pressed against yours while his hand weaves through your hair

Tadashi Yamaguchi

You say I’m in love- Banes World!!!!!!!!

Head empty just you and yams dancing to this song underneath LEDs and a ceiling projector

you’re all he thinks about when he sings this song

and bubblegum by clairo- he’d tell you not to focus on the lyrics but instead the instrumental portion. he says the comforting mellow beat reminds him of you.

Kenma Kozume

Nothing- Bruno Major.

Sings the lyrics to you

You’d think he’d be too shy and youre right but it’s because he does it subconsciously.

BRO THIS WOULD LITERALLY BE HIS SONG IN A RELATIONSHIP

Aran Ojiro

Ugotme- Omar Apollo

Such a good singer as well

When the two of you dance, you two dance.

His ability to dance is almost mesmerizing along with his singing.

Sings while covering your neck and collarbones with kisses

Satori Tendou

How Deep Is Your Love- Bee Gees

Also dramatically lip syncs the lyrics to you

Lifts you up into the air and into his arm almost five times mid dance.

He’ll shake his head with his lips pressed up against your neck while his hands trail upwards and toy with the hem of your shirt, his hands hungry with anticipation to just rip it off.

and you scold him when you feel his lips contort into a devilish grin.

Kotaro Bokuto

Hopelessly Devoted To You- Olivia Newton John

hear me out. He only knows this song because akaashi made him watch grease bc he says bokuto should be exposed to the “classics” and since watching it at age 12 with akaashi and bo’s two sisters, he’s prayed that one day he’d meet someone that’d make him feel the way that song did.

He does now and everytime that songs on he’s practically carrying you in his arms.

Tobio Kageyama

Love Me Please- OCTAVIO

this is the only song he knows with the exception of old kanye west because he considers his music grind music but you definitely put him on this song.

He’s literally a psychopath who doesn’t listen to anything EXCEPT like popular rap songs from 2017-2018. And even then he’ll only tolerate it when he needs to work out.

And then he meets you. Now he listens to music in a different aspect.

He knows he’s not the most romantic guy out there but he’s trying his best and you tell him that’s more than enough. He loves you so much.

Koushi Sugawara

This Side of Paradise- Coyote Theory

he’s dragging you out of the house to dance with you to this song. bonus points if it’s raining

he’s also the type to scream-sing to love songs.

There aren’t any cars in the vicinity due to the pouring rain so the two of you make your way to the road.

Your hand in his, he twirls you underneath the storm and into his arms.

Toru Oikawa

Pretty Boy- The Neighborhood

He’ll put so much emphasis in his tone on the “Even if the earth starts shaking, you’re the only thing worth taking- with me. Even if the sky’s on fire, got you here it’s alright.” verse

You’re literally everything to him

he won’t let you go even for a second until this song is finished even then he’ll have trouble parting.

Hajime Iwaizumi

Baby I’m Yours- Arctic Monkeys cover

It’s not even dancing at this point, it’s just you two cuddling and him pretending like he hates it even though he’s the one who refuses to let go of you.

Ryonusuke Tanaka

Knockin’ Da Boots- H-town

if he’s not dancing to this with you in his arms he’s definitely ironically grinding on the floor to this with a fuck boy face.

Hitoka Yachi

two queens in a king sized bed- girl in red

I just imagine the most “call me by your name” scenery type shit.

Or maybe like a field of flowers? You just have her in your arms on some sort of picnic date she planned for the two of you

Semi Eita-

I Wanna Be Yours- Arctic Monkeys

your arms wrap around his neck and his lips press onto yours while the two of you sway back and fourth underneath red led lights.

don’t be surprised if things get sexual.

Tetsuro Kuroo

Careless Whisper- George Michael

okay first he played this song when you were over once and he had it on so that he could initiate a little make out sess with you but when you could tell how nervous he was on making a move on you you told him that there was no pressure on anything and he sort of just danced with you instead. he ended up unironically really liking this song because of that.

(bonus: if it’s fanon kuroo he likes to dance to sway by Michael Bublé with you and the whole time he’s just eyeing you down with a sly grin)

Kiyoomi Sakusa

Beach Baby- Bon Iver

Space Song- Beach House

I imagine it’s raining horribly outside to the point where the thunder outside is retro boomin

but the windows are open because both you and Sakusa love the sound of rain pouring

he has this song playing from his record player while he hums against your neck.

393 notes · View notes

fandom-imagines-stories · 4 years ago

Text

Time of Death

Dr. Derek Shepherd x Reader

Words: 1966

Summary: Receiving the news after coming out of a long surgery, Derek rushes to comfort his fiancé whose sister committed suicide.

Notes: I hope to write some fluffier McDreamy imagines and more for Grey’s Anatomy, but when I got this idea, I had to go with it. This is a very very dark story, so it will not be for everyone, but I really had an interesting time writing it. As always, I’d love to know your thoughts and if you guys are excited for more Grey’s Anatomy imagines.

Warnings: Suicide, grief, guilt (This starts out fast so I’m putting the break at the beginning so if you don’t want to read, you don’t have to.)

You couldn’t hear them say it but you still heard it in your head. Time of death… You couldn’t even bring yourself to look at the clock. Time had stopped. Everything had stopped. As you looked down from the gallery, nobody in the O.R. seemed to be moving an inch. Until Dr. Bailey looked up at you. As soon as your eyes connected, everything started again but it started too fast. Your heart was beating too fast, your legs were moving too fast, the tears were coming too fast.

Your sister was dead. She threw herself in front of oncoming traffic. Her body was so broken that even Bailey couldn’t put it back together. Your baby sister killed herself.

Nurses and doctors alike watched you sprint by. Fellow residents, interns, attendants, all of them watched you run like maniac through the halls of the surgical wing. Of course, you were careful not to be in anyone’s way, but you had to disappear.

“What’s with Mrs. McDreamy?” Cristina asked George and Meridith quietly.

“Her sister just died on the table.” Izzy sighed, having been with you in the gallery. She looked at the floor. “Jumped in front of a car.” The other interns’ eyes widened.

“She killed herself?” Meredith whispered, her gaze following your running form down the hall. “Has anybody told…”

“He’s been in surgery for hours.” Cristina shook her head. “I doubt he even knows she was admitted.”

“Should someone page him? Should someone go get Y/N?” George wondered but nobody moved. They all just looked at each other. Cristina crossed her arms.

“I’ll go. Somebody has to go tell Dr. Shepherd that his future sister in law turned herself into roadkill.”

“No.” Meredith blurted. Cristina’s bluntness was the last thing anyone needed right now. “I’ll tell him.” Meredith and Derek were at least friends. He needed to hear this from a friend.

Derek smiled as the water ran over his hands. After several long hours, the surgery was a success. The 18-year-old girl was going to be okay. Thanks to him. Another life saved. His smile grew when Meredith stepped into the room.

“Dr. Grey, you missed a pretty amazing surgery.” He beamed. Something about her face was off.

“I’m sure you did very well Dr. Shepherd.” She wasn’t looking at him.

“Meredith what is it?” He dried his hands quickly and followed her out into the hall. Her expression made that cocky smile of his fall. “Meredith?”

“A Cierra Y/L/N was admitted about when you started your surgery.”

“Y/N’s sister?”

“Yes.” She took a deep breath. “It seems that she ran in front of a semi truck. Dr. Bailey did everything she could but… she’s dead, Derek.”

“Cierra… killed herself?” Derek ran a hand down his face. “Does anyone know why? Are they sure that’s what happened? Does Y/N know?”

“We all saw her run down the hallway, so I’d say she knows.”

“Do you know where she went?” He exclaimed, raising his voice. He didn’t have time for the doe-eyed confusion. He needed to know where you were. Meredith just shook her head. He calmed down enough so he wouldn’t yell. “Thank you for getting me.”

He took off, scanning the hall for any sign of his fiance. As he hurried past doctors and patients, he thought of Cierra. He’d never even met her. Sure, you had mentioned that you had a younger sister, but you didn’t say much other than that. But suicide? It was how you lost your mom when you were in medical school. This was going to hit hard and he needed to make sure there would be pieces of you left.

“Dr. Shepherd!” A voice called out behind him. He reluctantly stopped his pursuit to turn to Dr. Bailey. She gave him a sad, grim look. “We did everything we could, but the extent of her injuries… I’m sorry there wasn’t more I could do.”

“Have you seen Y/N?”

“Since she couldn’t operate with us, she stayed and watched from the gallery.” She sighed. She paused for a second before putting a hand on his shoulder. “I think I know where she might have gone.”

Bailey had found you there once before. You’d lost a patient and needed a quiet place to be alone. If there was ever a time you needed a quiet place to go, it’d be now. She brought Derek to a closet on the fourth floor. It was mostly filled with extra linens and paper and such so it wasn’t used often. Bailey knocked on the door, but received no response. Slowly, she opened the door.

“Dr. Shepherd?” She called out into the dark storage room. With still no response, she let Derek pass her.

“Y/N? Honey, I know you’re in here.” His eyes adjusted and he could see a form standing behind one of the shelves in the corner. He exchanged a look with Bailey. She nodded in understanding.

“I’ll go tell the chief. You’ll probably want to be heading home.” As she turned to leave, Derek put a hand on her shoulder.

“Thank you, Miranda.”

The chief resident quietly closed the door behind her and Derek walked further into the closet. The closet may have been small, but you felt far away. Hearing the sound of him approaching, you turned your head.

“Cierra is… she’s- they said that she-” Every time you tried to finish the sentence, your mouth stopped. Like your body was trying to deny what your mind clearly knew. Derek tentatively put his hands on your shoulders. When did he get in front of you?

“I know.”

He pulled you to his chest and you tried not to push away. You wanted to. You wanted to run again. But his arms wouldn’t let you. He kept you from drifting away.

Chief Webber had all of your surgeries for the next few days rescheduled or taken over by Dr. Bailey. Derek rescheduled the ones that he could, but some of his surgeries were on a time crunch. After he drove you home, he was paged back to the hospital for an emergency. He told you what it was, but you couldn’t remember.

You didn’t even remember the drive home. You remembered the bloody surgical tools and the machines and the clock, but it didn’t have any numbers on it. You remembered running in the halls and Derek finding you in the closet. Now you were home. Now you were alone. Alone with the knowledge that you killed your little sister.

Your brain started a single train of thought. You moved slowly, every motion draining more and more energy out of you, but you still made your way to your closet and found your suitcase. You couldn’t put this much pain, this much baggage on someone with a heart like his. To you, this was mercy.

When Derek finally returned home, not a single light in the house was on. His shoulders were weighed down as he tossed his keys on the counter. The surgery was a success, but he didn’t feel that usual rush of adrenaline that came from saving a life. He just wanted to get back to you.

He was about to call out for you when he saw something catch the light. Sitting on the kitchen table was your engagement ring.

“Y/N!” He called out, tucking the band into his pocket and ascending the stairs two at a time. He burst into the bedroom and found your suitcase sitting on the bed, clothes hurriedly piled inside. “Y/N!”

Light pooled into the room from underneath the bathroom door and was sure he could hear something inside. Derek knocked lightly before slowly cracking the door open.

“Y/N?” His voice was quieter now but still held the same amount of urgency. You just whimpered in response. He opened the door fully, finding you sitting on the bathroom floor having thrown up any meals you had that day.

“It’s my fault, Derek.” You cried, your voice so low he could barely hear you. “Cierra killed herself because of me. I can’t force you to live with that too.” You pulled your knees up to your chest.

“Honey…” Derek sat beside you, putting on a hand on your cheek to make you look at him. “Cierra was sick. She’d been sick for a really long time.”

“She was sick because I left her.” You spat, jerking away. “I abandoned her when I moved here for my residency. I knew what she was going through, stuck living with my dad, and I went off to medical school anyway.”

“Deciding to make a life for yourself and to help save lives was not abandoning her.” He took your hand in his and this time, you didn’t pull away. “Y/N, you called Cierra every chance that you got. As far as you knew, she was getting help in San Diego. She told you she was getting better. You couldn’t have known how bad it had gotten.”

“Then why did she come here, Derek?” You felt that sick feeling in your stomach turning and twisting again. “Why drive up to Seattle and jump into oncoming traffic close enough to be taken to Seattle Grace unless she blamed me?”

Derek was quiet for a moment. Your body was still shaking from both sobs and from getting sick and you looked desperate for answers that he couldn’t give.

“Maybe she wanted to see you one last time. This was her way of doing that.”

It may not have been the answer you wanted to hear, but it was enough to get you to calm down. Derek shifted so that you were sitting in front of him, his hands rubbing soothing circles on your arms from behind. He gently kissed the top of your head and pulled your ring out of his pocket.

“As for this…” He held the band out in front of you. You just stared at it, laying your head back against his shoulder.

“I was leaving.” You were half packed before your body ached so much it made you sick.

“I noticed that.” Derek blew out a long breath. “You said you ‘couldn’t force me to live with that’. Is that how you think? That leaving will spare me of your faults?”

“I didn’t think that you…” You sighed, trying to collect your reasoning into words. You spun around so you were facing him, holding his hands in your lap. “Derek, you love saving lives. You walk into life ready to save someone else’s. I couldn’t make you look at me everyday knowing that I was responsible for Cierra’s death.”

Derek lifted your hands up to his chest and laid them flat over his heart.

“This day- this tragedy- does not define who you are. You are still the beautiful, talented, brilliant surgeon that I fell in love with. The one I asked to marry me. You will still be that woman tomorrow and the next day and the one after that. And if you ever need reminding I will ask you to marry me every single day until we walk down that aisle together because I’m not backing out. Better or worse.” His gaze searched yours for a reaction. “Okay?”

All you could do was nod and lean back into his embrace. You stayed there on the bathroom floor, his legs on either side of you and your head tilted back against his chest. While Derek’s words didn��t erase everything from that day, they helped to take even just a little of the weight off of your heart. It was enough, at least for now and so you slipped your ring back onto your finger and fell asleep in his arms.

General Tag: @rae-gar-targaryen; @takemepedropascal; @childhood-imagination; @mylovegoesto; @yellowbadgergirl; @itmejado; @suckmyapplejacks

#derek shepherd #derek shepherd x reader #grey's anatomy imagine #miranda bailey #Patrick Dempsey #dr. mcdreamy #suicide #grief

455 notes · View notes

harrypotterbrainworms · 4 years ago

Text

Found Family

Summary: “hi! I hope u r having a great day!💛 I was the one who request the ron x trans male reader and I have to say that I loved it! it was beautiful! if u are ok with it can I request one about how the weasley family would react about the reader first vacations after the transition? fluff please? a george x trans male reader pleaseI love ur fics! thanks for reading!” (request)

Pairing: George Weasley x Trans Male Reader

Key: (Y/N)- your name

Word Count: 1812

(A/N): Took a while to get this done, but I really like it and it was very sweet.

“Oh my god, they’re gonna hate me. My hair is too shaggy, it got too shaggy, didn’t it? My face, oh no. I look nothing like I did. My voice, my face, me.” (Y/N) moved uncomfortably running his hands through his hair every second he could. He felt as nervous as he did at the beginning of the year.

“It’s gonna be fine, love. They already love you, I promise they’ll just love you harder, knowing them.” George Weasley, his beloved boyfriend, grabbed his hands holding them gently in his hands with a sweet smile on his face.

“But-“

“No butts, but mine, my dear.” George replied pointing at the beautifully round mother who came running toward them, one hand carrying a bag of lunch for the car ride home and the other ready to pinch any one of her kid’s faces.

“Here goes nothing.” (Y/N) sucked in a long breath and exhaled with a huge smile on his face. He was happy to see his basically second mother, but more nervous by the seconds that passed.

“Oh my boys! It’s been so long since I’ve seen your beautiful faces” She kissed each of the kids except (Y/N). The anxiety really started to build up when she turned around to face the twins not even acknowledging his presence. He was starting to spiral fast, quickly grabbing Geogre’s hand for support.

“Fred. George. I didn’t get many complaints. Good job.” She said sterningly, a cautious finger pointed at them as she looked around for someone, oh no, (Y/N) thought. She didn’t get the 20 letters he’d sent or maybe she’d make him stop dating George. No way this was gonna work.

“Thanks, mum” The twins sighed with a slight smirk on both their faces, even with the instant hurricane (Y/N) was pulled in, he wondered what they were planning.

“Well who’s this?” Molly asked, turning to (Y/N). His nerves hit an all time high and his heart stopped for a moment.

“It’s-uh-“ He stuttered out, of course she didn’t know who he was. He was so different, he felt like running away at this point.

“I’m just messing with you, deary! We missed you so much (Y/N)” She laughed giving him a huge hug and a pat on the back. He laughed nervously and steadied himself again. Her “pats” were devilishly strong.

“I missed you too, Mrs Weasley” (Y/N) said self-consciously, he wasn’t usually so formal with her. He’d known her for years now, but it felt like he was presenting a completely new version of himself.

“Don’t be so formal, my dear. Molly will do just fine, now boys and Ginny. We have a long trip and a lot of food to eat” She was smiling wide as she helped (Y/N) pull his trunk up from the ground.

The car ride was long and tiring as usual as he watched London pass and the country come into view. He was especially nervous about tonight’s big dinner. George squeezed his hand and smiled as they both looked on to the unfolding countryside.

“It’s gonna be great. Dad is gonna get drunk and we’re gonna laugh. Just like old times” He tried to cheer his boyfriend up, but it weighed on his heart more.

“Just like old times.” A phrase he didn’t particularly enjoy in his life right now.

Arthur Weasley loved winter, especially when he was downing glass after glass of fire whiskey as he tried to make jokes and fork at his meal. He stood up suddenly and everyone knew what was coming-

“A toast! I would like to make a toast” He shouted a little too loudly as he brought his glass up to the air.

“Oh no. Dad’s drunk toast.” Fred huffed out nudging George’s who was too busy dazzling (Y/N) for the 10th time that day.

“Oh Merlin.” He whispered back and mentally buckled up for the ride.

“To this wonderful family, a wonderful evening and most importantly to this lovely gentleman for coming!” Arthur pointed not so subtly at (Y/N), a deep crimson starting to appear on his face.

“Cheers!” The twins chanted in unison, egging their father on. Trying to length the speech as much as they could for entertainment of course.

“And might I add! To my lovely wife and her big beautiful bosom-“ Mr. Weasley was about to go on about his beautiful wife’s beautiful bosom, but was thankfully interrupted by Molly spitting out her drink as he was pulled back into his seat.

“Arthur.”

“Ham. Her big beautiful ham, always the best cooking in this house of course.” He added from his seat raising his glass once more, everyone raising their own glasses to toast Molly’s “ham”.

“This family” George whispered into (Y/N)’s ear causing him to giggle as he was clinking glasses with the room full of people.

He sighed in bed as he rolled over to look at George who was actually reading for once, but he suspected it was for prank research. He kissed forehead lightly and grabbed his night robe.

“I’m going to get some water”

“Cool, love you”

“Love you too, idiot” He sighed and walked down the rickety stairs of the burrow finding him and George were probably the only ones awake at this hour. He didn’t really need a glass of water, just a quiet moment alone as he watched the snow fall from the kitchen window.

In his silent moment he must’ve lost track of everything in existence because he barely heard Molly coming down the stairs and sitting in the chair besides him.

“Hello, dear. Can’t sleep?” She spoke up making him jump.

“Yeah.”

“Let me make you some hot chocolate” She pushed herself up from the chair and pulled out a pot and ingredients.

“That’s oka-“ He tried to answer, but it wasn’t really a choice. He didn’t really mind. It was just about 2am and he didn’t want to cause her any troubles.

“Nonsense, we’re having hot chocolate” As she filled a pot with some milk, cocoa and sugar. He liked that she didn’t really use magic when cooking, it reminded him of home. Finishing their drink she placed two mugs on the table and sat beside him once again, staring into the window with him.

He sipped on his warm drink a little awkwardly, he wanted to ask what was plaguing his mind. He just never knew when was the right time, he took another sip and sighed.

“Um- Mrs- I mean Molly. You don’t think it’s weird?” He asked quickly before his courage faded.

“What is, deary?” Molly said absentmindedly, looking at him a little puzzled. He darted his eyes back and forth before looking down at himself and she then understood.

“Oh. Not at all, dear. I’ve known many young wizards such as yourself, very upright young men” She smiled warmly at him, his eyes widened a bit in hope and excitement.

“Really?” He said, a question no one really needed to answer. He knew the answer now.

“Of course. I’ve been around, my dear. Meet a lot of people” She put her hand on his and he choked up a bit.

“So you-“

“Yes, dear. Family is family. I would accept you in any form and way no matter what. You’re a Weasley and I’m proud of you” She knew what he needed, she had. He looked at her with so much love in his heart as his eyes started to well up.

She immediately put their mugs down and embraced him tightly as he silently sobbed into her clothing.

“Oh my, dear. It’s okay, you always have a place at this table” She hushed him as she rubbed circles around his back.

“Thank you, Molly” He said, looking up at her and she just smiled sweetly.

“You don’t need to thank me. It’s what a mother does, I have your back and every one of my children’s back.”

“Of course you do” He laughed a little and really let his thoughts ease up as he embraced him.

“Now, finish that hot chocolate and get to bed. I bet George is very worried about you right now” She said snuffing a bit as she stroked his hair as he continued to cry a bit. He gained composure and nodded into her.

“Yeah” He said, muffled by her nightgown.

“You’re a fine young man, my dear. George is lucky to have you, you keep those hooligans in check and most importantly. You love him and he loves you very much” He looked up at her pulling away from the hug, he swore he could see a few tear drops threatening to fall.

He took one last sip of the now room temperature drink and hugged Molly again, she gave him a kiss on forehead and sent him on his way.

He climbed up the stairs, his anxieties in the back of his mind as he rode his new found rush of happiness all the way back to George’s room.

“You smell like hot chocolate- oh no. Did mum talk to you? I hope she didn’t say anything weird, that woman is mad” George said as (Y/N) entered his room, but when he looked up from his copy of “Inconvenience Creation”, he saw the happiest smile on his boyfriend’s face. His heart felt warm and full, he was glad it went well.

“No actually. She said she was proud of me” (Y/N) smiled as he sat on the side of the bed, staring into space.

“Woah. She never says that to me, it’s worse than I thought. She’s replacing me with a better son” He teased and pulled his boyfriend into the bed with him, putting his book down. He breathed in his scent, his mum’s hot chocolate.

“Must’ve been some talk” He yawned and hugged his waist.

“Just don’t replace me anytime soon” He teased further earning a scoff and an eye roll.

“Shut up, asshole.” (Y/N) hit his arm and held his face up, planting a kiss on his forehead.

“I told you they would still love you.” He smirked at him reaching up to give him a soft kiss on the lips, but yawned mid kiss making (Y/N) laugh.

“I shouldn't have expected any different” (Y/N) pushed his hair out of face with a huge smile on his lips as he pulled the duvet over them.

“Damn right.” Geogre replied tiredly.

“I love you” He planted another kiss on his forehead, hugging him tight as he rubbed his boyfriend’s hand on his chest softly.

“Mhm. Me too” He snuggled his face into (Y/N)’s neck, he just stroked George’s hair until he heard soft snores coming from his boyfriend. He sighed happy and exhausted as he slowly fell asleep himself.

327 notes · View notes

givemeweasley · 3 years ago

Text

I Still See It All

Red Album Fic List

2. Red

George Weasley x Reader

Word Count: 2.4k

A/N: so here’s red. good luck. that’s all I’ll say about it.

Masterlist

----

“You ready?” George leaned over to call to you from the passenger side's open window. It was midnight, you were supposed to be asleep. But George insisted on doing something reckless. It was his last year. He wanted to go all out, and he especially wanted to it with his girlfriend.

You glanced around quickly once more before nodding.

You hopped into the car and pressed tightly into George’s side as he turned the key. “You’re gonna love this!”

And with that he slammed on the gas. You head shot backwards as you gripped his arm tightly.

“Hold on!!” George laughed, before messing with something in the car. And then the car lifted off the ground. And in seconds you were in the sky flying over Hogwarts which now looked small from your view.

You peeled yourself away from George to look out of the window. Your hands gripped the frame as the wind whipped your hair all around you. The air was chilly, given that it was fall, but it was so refreshing you didn’t find it in yourself to care. Black Lake looked stunning. The stars were reflecting off of it and making it look like you were stuck between two skies.

“It’s so…” You whispered.

George tugged a piece of your hair and twirled it between his fingers. “Beautiful?”

You looked back at him. His eyes were staring deep into your soul. Like he loved you.

Neither of you had said it yet, you were too scared to. But you knew you felt it, despite only being official for a month. Loving him was all consuming. Encompassing. The most comforting and terrifying feeling you’d ever had.

You turned your body back towards him, George did the same after putting the car in some sort of autopilot situation.

“What are you thinking?” You asked, leaning your head against the seat.

George reached for you, pulling you in his lap. “I’m thinking a lot of things.” To anyone else, it might’ve sounded charged with sexual energy. But it didn’t to you. It was soft. Vulnerable.

You reached up to push a piece of hair out of his eyes and leaned down a fraction to press a kiss to his forehead. “Tell me one thing. One small thing.”

“I’m happy.” His voice was like a physical touch the way it slid past his lips.

“That sounds like a big thing.” Your hands were now woven in his hair, playing with the few strands at the nape of his neck. His hands rested on your waist, one finger had slipped underneath your t-shirt and was drawing patterns on your hip. “I just mean there’s not a lot to be happy about right now. Umbridge is making everyone’s life a living hell and-”

“There’s a lot to be happy about, love. It’s a matter of perspective. All our friends are alive and well. The house elves still make delicious food. We’re in a flying car right now-” For each item he listed off, he gave you a peck until you were giggling under his lips.

“Okay, okay, I get it. You can stop now.” You were smiling now. Looking at the boy you loved with everything in you.

“Oh? You don’t want me to kiss you?” George raised an eyebrow, getting that mischievous look in his eyes he always did before he pranked someone. It spelled bad news for you. “You don’t want your boyfriend to kiss you? Is that what I’m hearing?”

You scrambled back off his lap at the look in his eyes and giggled burst from between your lips. But George was already raising himself off the seat and moving slowly towards you like a lion on the hunt.

And then he lunged. “Apologize!!” His hands fell to your sides, tickling you as you screamed and laughed at the same time.

“Stop! George-” You couldn’t stop laughing, your legs and arms flailing in a poor attempt to get him off of you. “Georgie!! I can’t- Stop- okay, okay!” He paused for a brief second, giving you a chance to breathe.

“Do you apologize?” George leaned down until he was a centimeter away from your face. Both of you were panting. It made you realize how precarious a position you were both in. One of your legs had fallen off the seat while the other was wrapped around George's back. His hips were pressed into your own. Chest to chest. Nose to nose.

And George seemed to notice it at the same time.

“I apologize.” Your voice was more breathy than you anticipated. But those two words were all it took before his red lips came down to meet yours.

Your arms wound themselves around his head, pulling him closer as one of his hands planted itself next to your head propping him up as the other drifted down to your waist. You gasped in his mouth as his hand slipped up your shirt to rest right on your ribcage. Waiting for permission it seemed as his thumb drew patterns. George took advantage of that gasp to push his tongue into your mouth.

Euphoric. It was the only way to describe the feeling of love and lust coursing through your veins.

And then his hips grinded down on yours. A moan broke through the kisses. It took you a second to realize it had come from you. George drew back slightly. Both of you panting noticeably heavier than before.

“How far do you wanna take this?” He whispered into your lips. You looked up at him. Neither of you had said ‘I love you.’ But looking up at him, you knew. And you could tell he knew too.

You answered him with a kiss and raising your hips back into his. This time it was his moan that echoed throughout the flying car.

“Make me yours, George Weasley.” You breathed out.

George pulled back again, a different look in his eyes. Gentle. Passionate. “You always have been, Y/N Y/L/N.”

----

The two of you lay there afterwards. George had pulled his pants back on and gave you his shirt to wear since it was cold. The two of you were curled up together on the seat basking in the warmth of each other.

“Tell me something else.” You whispered.

“Huh?” George tiredly whispered back.

You drew circles on his chest with your finger. “Tell me something else you’re thinking. Something big.”

Pushing a piece of your hair out of your face, he responded. “I love you.”

Your breath hitched. Tears sprung to your eyes. You lifted yourself up to look at him. “Really?”

A small laugh accompanied his response. “Yeah. I love you. I loved you for years, Y/N. And I’ll love you for-”

You never got to hear what he was gonna say, because at that moment the car stuttered. You both sat up.

And it fell.

The both of you smashed into the roof of the car as you watched your wands fly out of the open windows. The ground was approaching quickly. Too quickly.

You barely managed the strength to turn your head to George, his eyes were already on you. Tears in his beautiful brown eyes.

You don’t know how he managed, but suddenly his body was around yours. You could barely breathe with his weight pressing you into the ceiling of the car, but you knew what he was doing.

“No…” You whimpered out. You couldn’t see how far the ground was. But it was close. George pressed a kiss onto your forehead and whispered in your ear.

“Tell my family I love them. And don’t forget I love-”

The car slammed into a tree. Screams fell from your lips as both your bodies dropped from the ceiling and onto the seat.

A crack resounded through the car.

And then darkness.

----

When you woke up it was cold. Freezing. You’d never known a chill like that one. For a moment, you were confused as to where your blankets were. Where your pillow was.

And then it hit you as the wind howled.

As you felt who was underneath you.

It took all the courage in your system to look down.

George.

You screamed. Tears poured out of your eyes like waterfalls as you looked down at the face of the boy you loved. How his eyes were empty of life looking off into a distance they would never meet.

“GEORGE!!” You lifted your body slightly, aching at the opening of wounds all over you. You pressed your hands to his cheeks, your tears dripping onto his face. “GEORGE!!!” You were heaving with sobs. You couldn’t breathe. Your fingers tightened around his jaw. You were getting desperate. “SOMEBODY HELP US!! GEORGE!” You could barely see through the tears in your eyes. “WAKE UP! Wake up. Please, wake up.”

“Please.” You whispered. “Please- please don’t leave me. Come back to me. I didn’t get to say it back. I didn’t get to say it back.” You hiccuped.

But you knew it was too late. George was long gone.

And you were out in the middle of nowhere. No one knew you had left, and no one knew where you were.

You winced feeling the adrenaline start to slowly wear off, revealing how injured you were.

But you didn’t care.

You tucked your head back onto George’s chest as tears ran slower and quieter soaking his bare and cold chest. You didn’t realize you were listening for a heartbeat until you couldn’t hear one.

How different things could be in such a short amount of time.

One hand drifted down to his chest and curled into a fist as you closed your eyes. You would die here. His death to protect you would be for nothing.

But you still had to tell him.

“I love you, George.” You took a deep breath, as your hiccups continued. “I’ve loved you for years, and I’ll love you forever.”

You laid there for what felt like days. Months. Eons. Breathing for two people.

Your lips were cracked, and your body was shivering. Every now and then the car would shift in the tree and you would think this is it. But it never fell.

Eventually the sun rose. Birds began chirping. Singing. It was unfair.

And you had just begun to drift off, when in the distance you heard something else.

It sounded like people. Like they were calling names. Your name. Geor- His name.

You tried to open your mouth to respond, but your voice wouldn’t work. It was broken.

“GEORGE! Y/N!”

And in a second the voices descended. Screams sounded as you heard the roof of the car be peeled away. But your eyes stayed close.

Everything felt so far away. Like you were an observer in your own body. You felt your hands lift your body, but not really. You heard shouts of she’s alive! but not really. You heard screams of a mother losing a child, a father losing a son, a twin losing his brother, but not really.

Whatever was left of your soul was still in that car.

----

You were in the Hospital Wing for weeks. Days that seemed to have no beginning and no end, everything just blended together.

You hadn’t spoken a word to anyone. No matter how many times people pressed for questions. All you did was sleep and stare out the window towards the woods.

And for the first time since you’d arrived, you were alone.

“Can I talk to her?” You heard a voice speak up.

“She’s not-”

“Please-” The voice broke. You heard a sigh and then footsteps and a shut door.

“Y/N?”

Fred.

You tore your eyes away from the window and looked at him. You felt as if your heart was breaking all over again. He looked so much like him, but then again not at all.

The image of him cold underneath you flashed before you could stop it. And tears sprung to your eyes.

Fred gestured to the bed. “May I sit?”

You nodded.

He sat. And for a few minutes the two of you were quiet. Neither really knowing what to say or how to say it.

More than anything, you felt the absence of the presence that would’ve made everything easy to say.

“I don’t blame you, you know.” Fred began, twisting his hands. “Geo-” He cleared his throat, and you could see the tears gathering in his eyes. “George told me of his plans before you two left. He said he was going to finally make his big move.” You saw his Adam's apple move as he swallowed. “Well?” He looked at you. “Did he tell you?”

You swallowed the sobs threatening to escape. “Yeah. He did.” You reached for Fred’s hand. “He-” Deep breath. In. Out. In. Out. “He told me to tell you he loves you. All your family.”

Fred’s arms came around you. Yours wrapped around him. And everything you’d be holding in for the past weeks spilled out.

“I’m sorry, Fred. It was an accident. I didn’t want him to die. I didn’t- he just-he-” Sobs overtook your body as you shook. You gripped Fred like your life depended on it. Maybe it did.

You could feel Fred crying and shaking with you as he responded in broken words. “He just wanted to protect you.” He pulled back enough to look you in the eyes. His eyes shone in a way you had never seen before. The grief in them was similarly reflected in your own. Same boy, but different hurts. “And he did it.” Your eyes fell closed as pain consumed you. “Look at me, Y/N.” So you did. His hand came up to hold your cheek. “He wouldn’t have wanted you like this. We-” He choked. It occurred to you then that there would be no more we. There would only be one twin. Only Fred. “We spent our entire lives making people laugh and smile.”

“I don’t know if I can remember how, Fred.”

Fred smiled. “Well we have a whole life to figure it out. And we can start right now.” And then he lifted something up. Something you had missed.

It was a blue sweater. With the letter G sown on.

“Smile and it’s yours.”

And for the first time since the crash, the edges of your lips lifted. Genuinely.

Tell myself it’s time now, gotta let go.

Taglist: @huffledor-able541 @just-here-to-escape-from-reality

Let me know if you want to join my taglist!

#george weasley #george weasley fic #george weasley x reader #gw #x reader #Harry Potter fic #death #angst #Weasley x reader #red #Taylor swift #red Taylor swift

51 notes · View notes

geekgrizz · 4 years ago

Text

High School AU Senior!Karlnapity adopting Freshman!Ranboo (saw on the ol tl)

They meet because Ranboo joint like a quarter way through the year, so he has no where to sit and he goes and sits in the corner Karl, Quackity, George (and sometimes Sapnap and Dream) for lunch

When Karl, Quackity and George get there they’re a little baffled because literally no one sits there usually (that’s why they picked it)

But they sit down and Quackity happily introduces himself and prompts Ranboo to talk to them

This then leads to things Karl slipping to talk to Ranboo and give him a cupcake he made in food when he’s by his locker later that day and Quackity bumping into him on the bus and sitting by him

Ranboo sits in the same place the next day, Sapnap and Dream sitting with them this time, he’s a bit more chatty that day as he gets more comfortable with them, Dream and George slipping off to ‘pop to the toilet’ halfway through lunch

By Thursday Karl comes to Ranboos locker and asks him if he wants to go to Sapnaps after school because that’s where they usually hang out and it’d be cool if he came

So they start this little dynamic where Ranboo will eat lunch with them and then go hang out with them after school at Sapnaps

(which is how he learns that for when hes not home Sapnap secretly made Karl a copy of his house key so they can just go in and too his room)

Then one day the next week Ranboo turns up at Sapnaps really excited because he had made his first proper freshman friends, Tubbo and Tommy

He sat next to Tubbo in a couple of classes and they’d been getting on really well and then Tubbo had invited him to go hang out with him and his best friend Tommy after school

Karl gets really excited and starts rambling questions like “oh should we bake cookies for him? you can give them to him tomorrow” “should we introduce ourselves him? to let him know you have back up if he’s mean”

Quackity looking at him and rolling his eyes muttering “you don’t introduce 2 nerdy seniors and their chad to someone you’re trying to befriend”

Sapnap ignoring them both and just patting him on the shoulder and a “well done kid”

Ranboo stops sitting with them at lunch as he sits with Tubbo and Tommy now but he still goes to Sapnaps with them quite often after school and talks with them in the corridors

One day the three boys are at a party and while George and Quackity are trying to convince Dream and Sap to do another round of shots Karl gets a tap on the shoulder and finds himself looking at Wilbur exhasperatedly holding out Ranboo to him while Tommy and Tubbo sway on either side of him

“is this one yours?”

“yes i believe so”

“good can you take him because I have to get these ones in without Dadza noticing their state and I don’t think I could manage a third one”

Ranboo smiling sheepishly down at him

Sapnap sees him and offers up a high five and then a thumbs up before Quackity turns around and frowns “did you come to your first party without us”

“you didn’t invite me”

“that doesn’t mean you can just ditch us”

Quackity uses the excuse of Ranboo being there to make everyone (except Karl) have shots because they can’t have him miss out on the proper party experience

This then leads to beer pong because according to Sapnap the boy has to be taught

Finally leading to George’s guess the cocktail game

But Karl won’t let Ranboo have much because he doesn’t trust George’s skills enough

Finally Karl finds himself dragging Quackity out the door as Ranboo leans on him for support and Sapnap stumbles in front for the 5 minute walk to the car

He drives them to his house because his parents are out that weekend, and shepherds them up to his room, Ranboo passes out in his big beanbag and the other three taking the bed

The next morning Ranboo wakes up to the sound of a thump and then running and Karl’s exasperated sigh before he sarcastically shouts “try to be louder next time you run to the sick bowl eh Quack”

He groans as his head bangs and tries burying his head further into the bean bag but Karl must notice because he walks over and sits on the floor next to him

“would you like some water and aspirin?”

Ranboo just groans in return but Karl got the message because a couple of seconds later he’s poking him and holding out a glass and some pills

He takes it and gulps all the water as Sapnap comes over and leans on Karl and groans

“why does he get special treatment”

“maybe because it’s his first hangover you big oaf. anyway i left the packet of aspirin on the bedside table with my water bottle you can get it yourself.”

“maybe i want your love and care put into it”

“okay babe i’ll consider it next time”

“fuck off you know it’s my turn to be sober next time”

“the way you’re talking sounds like you don’t want me to cook the waffle mix mom made because i told her you were sleeping”

“i fucking love mrs jacobs”

#my inconsistency of capital letters is appauling #anyway should i do more high school au hcs #or a proper fic 👀#OH NO IVE JUST HAD A REALLY GOOD IDEA THAT IMMA HAVE TO DO #dsmp #ranboo #karlnapity #karl jacobs #sapnap #quackity

220 notes · View notes

princessofprocrastination · 4 years ago

Text

I Messed Up, Didn’t I? (Dream)

MASTERLIST

PART ONE!

pairing : dreamwastaken x singer!reader

summary : after the breakup, he sees that you’re growing as a singer, while he’s suffering alone, but you don’t think that about him, seeing he’s growing on youtube. (PART TWO)

a/n : aaannnddd here’s the final part!

a full year passes.

you thought the pain in your chest would leave after a while. but maybe it doesn’t work that way since clay and you were together for a couple years.

you were kept busy with the voice each week, every weekday, you were told to keep working on a new album.

but whenever you had time alone in your house, you couldn’t help but think about it all.

the cuddles on his gaming chair whenever you felt lonely at times while he played his games.

or when you’d care for him whenever he would get sick since he would act like a baby.

or that time when you both went to get fast food at 4am in the morning because you craved something that would be bad for you.

or the little banters or debates you two would have about politics.

or when he’d dive on the bed on top of you when he was in need of cuddles.

it all comes back to the reason you broke up.

you didn’t blame him. you didn’t blame yourself.

you didn’t know who to blame. you couldn’t blame the internet since you got your job from it too.

you were glad that you found a job that was your hobby. whenever you were mad or sad, you’d write it down, and send it to your team, and suddenly, it would become a song.

you are glad that you have such supportive team and found yourself amazing friends.

speaking of friends, you bought tickets for your two bestfriends to come see you and live with you for a while.

you told them that you needed the companion and that your house has too many empty guest bedrooms that are waiting for people to sleep in.

they accepted the invite and offered to buy their own tickets since you were already giving them a place to stay, but you told them you had already bought them tickets and that they didn’t have to worry about it.

you knew they could afford it, they were just too humble to say it to their fans, but you knew better.

hours before you had to pick them up from the airport, you made sure their rooms were fully ready. you picked the bedrooms most closest to yours because why not right?

what those two didn’t know was that you had bought full gaming sets for them, monitors, keyboards, a pretty nice gaming chair. it was a pretty nice gaming set up, if you say so yourself.

you bought them because you knew that those two cannot live a day without playing games or streaming.

at first, they were hesitant on coming since you told them to stay for a couple months. they both knew they had to stream and post on their channels. it’s their jobs, after all.

but you assured them that you’d find a way and to not worry about anything, and just worry about getting on that plane on time.

you saw the time, took a photo of the gaming set up as you took a photo of sapnap’s earlier and walked out of george’s room, grabbing your car keys and leaving for the airport.

you parked your car in the airport carpark and quickly went to the arrival hall to find those two crackheads.

you were almost jumping at how excited you were. you couldn’t believe that this was going to be your first time meeting them ever.

you waited at the side, making sure you still had a view of the automatic sliding doors of the arrival hall.

you heard someone calling your name from behind you. as you turn your head, you saw a masked man holding a camera that was pointed at you.

paparazzi’s can be annoying at times but you actually knew this guy pretty well and he is definitely not annoying.

“what are you doing here?” the man asked you.

“what do i look like i’m doing in front of the arrival hall, hm?” you sassed him a little, laughing towards the end of your sentence.

“okay, who are you waiting for then?” he asked again.

your phone pinged a notification from the groupchat of you, george and sapnap.

“just wait and see, they’ll come soon.” you told him, winking at the camera.

you saw the two walk out of the automatic doors and you jumped slightly on your feet, waiting for them to come closer before you could give them the biggest hug.

it didn’t take them long to spot you. you attracted a lot of attention, with the man with a very large camera next to you.

as they came closer with their noticeably large luggage, you couldn’t wait anymore, running towards them to give them a bear hug.

as you crashed into the two, they fell slightly back from the impact.

you could hear the loud camera shutters as you hug two of your bestfriends.

you three hugged for a while more before you moved off to answer some questions from the line of paparazzi’s.

you felt bad for attracting the crowd. people must be so confused on what’s happening.

you three answered some questions, until you couldn’t wait anymore, you were excited to show them their room. the anticipation was killing you.

“sorry, i think we need to go. i can’t wait to show them their rooms.” you told the line of paparazzi’s in front of you.

a string of questions came out, asking what rooms and where and why was i so excited.

“you’ll see soon, stay tuned on our social medias!” you told them before pulling your two bestfriends’ hands to walk out the airport to your car.

they said their goodbyes and walked by you to your car, confused on why you had been so excited.

george sat at the front with you, sapnap at the backseat.

“dude, you own such a cool car.” sapnap said, admiring the details of your car.

“close the door and you’ll see something cooler.” you told him.

to which he closed his side of the door and waited. he looked up onto the car roof to see that there are stars on them. they light up as the car doors were closing.

“holy shit damn.” george said, looking up as well.

as you drove back home, you three caught up with each other’s lives.

you found out that they still had been anxious about not posting anything for a couple months, but they’re happy to see you and stay with you. you smiled to yourself knowing how happy they’d be later.

“i just can’t wait to see your house, honestly.” george said, from beside you.

sapnap let out a big laugh, you and george soon following after.

you parked in front of your house’ front door while the two stared in awe that their bestfriend lives in such a house. they’d often forget that they’re friends with such a rich singer. they only saw you as their friend, not someone famous.

you laughed at the two, before exiting your car, to get their luggage from the back of the car.

while they were still looking at your house, you took their bags out one by one, carrying some into the house.

“you wanna come in or not?” you asked the two.

they snapped out of their trance, taking their bags before following you to inside the house.

“what the fuck.” “holy shit this is amazing.” were what the two said when they walked in.

“so since we’re here, let’s put your bags into your rooms before we go get food. you guys can go shower too if you want, there are bathrooms in your rooms.” you told them, excited to see their reactions of the rooms.

“there are bathrooms in our bedrooms? dude game over i’m moving in.” sapnap told you, still in awe of the house.

you lead them to one of their room, telling them which room was which behind closed doors, not opening the door yet. you told them that your room was between theirs and if they needed anything, to ask you.

you stopped at sapnap’s room, on the left of your room, and told them to wait.

“before i open this door, i just wanted to say that i appreciate you guys dropping everything to come here. so here’s a little something for you two, i definitely didn’t forget about your jobs.” you explained to the two before opening the door.

as you opened it slowly, you saw that they were confused. they still had no clue. good.

sapnap’s gaming setup lit up as you opened the door, making the room look like a tiktok room.

“holy- no way. you didn’t” sapnap said, turning to you, still in shock.

“uh yeah i did, and there’s one of george in his room too.” you told them.

“WHAT? no you didn’t.” george screamed in your ear.

“go look in your room. i’m not lying.” you told him.

he runs to open his room door, leaving his bags in front of sapnap’s room. sapnap and you followed to see his room.

as george opened his door, his room too, lit up, just like sapnap’s.

“NO FREAKING WAY.” george jumped at his position in his room, staring at his set up in awe.

“i had to, you guys dropped everything to be here. you still need to make videos. tell me what’s missing and it’ll come tomorrow.” you told the two boys, who were still in shock.

“WHAT’S MISSING?, this is more than enough, thank you!” the two said in unison before running to you to give you the biggest hug.

after that whole fiasco, the two boys got right into work with setting it up. you left them for the moment as you went to the kitchen to get dinner going.

you thought since they just reached california after a long flight, they might not have the energy to drive all the way out to get dinner, so you just settled with making them dinner.

while waiting for your pasta to cook and chicken to fry, you went on your phone.

you weren’t surprise to see people shocked to see that sapnap and george flew to meet you. your feed was filled with photos and videos of your interactions in the airport.

you smiled seeing the cute photos, screenshotting a few to post on your own instagram.

you remembered the gaming setup photos that you took. you opened instagram to post them o your instagram story, along with videos of their reactions of seeing them. only in a matter of seconds, your tagged photos sky rocketed.

now they knew that the two boys would definitely stay for longer.

dream knew what was going on. he was tagged in a lot of the photos. your fans thought he was there too, for some reason. some knew dream wasn’t there but asked why he wasn’t there.

dream was happy to see that his friends are happy with you. they might as well move in with you.

dream knows that you hated staying at home alone. maybe that’s why you called the two over to stay with you.

with the gaming setups, dream knew the two boys would stay for a while. he felt a pang in his chest.

he wanted to meet you. he wanted to make things right again. not because he saw you happy without him, not because he saw how successful you have become, not because he saw how happy you were with his friends but not him, but because he felt alone without you. he needed you.

you could hear george and sapnap screaming. you smiled, knowing that they were probably streaming or recording something, along with dream since you heard them scream “dream” a ton of times.

they had to eat lunch so you brought it upstairs to their room, knowing they won’t end their gaming anytime soon.

you knocked on sapnap’s door first. seeing as he’s not using his facecam, you walked in and put his plate of food next to his keyboard, along with a bottle of his favourite drink.

he thanked you as he told his chat what was going on. you ruffled his hair as you walk out his room, to george’s.

you didn’t bother knocking his door since you knew he was too deaf to hear it anyways. you slowly opened the door, not wanting to interrupt his stream and nicks.

he notices you coming in. “hi! come here!” he told you.

you smiled at him, walking towards his desk, with the plate of food and bottled drink in your hands.

“i just came to gave you lunch cause i know you too well.” you told him, almost sarcastically.

“awh, oh my god thank you, this looks so good.” he thanked you just like nick did.

“my chat wants to say hi.” he tells you.

knowing he has his facecam turned on, you walked to him to stand behind his chair to wave at the camera.

“so this is my favourite person in the world.” george said to his chat, pointing to you.

you blushed and put your hand up to cover your mouth at how cute that was. roll in the ship comments.

“i’m leaving you with the ship comments, gogy.” you told him as you walked to the door.

a couple more weeks go by, and the two idiots are still living with you. they actually are thinking about staying here for good. to which they asked you if that’s okay.

obviously you would let them stay here for good, you loved the company.

they were your distraction to everything going on. the heartbreak, the hurt that never left your chest. they were all still there and you didn’t know how to get rid of them. but for now, your two bestfriends were there for you.

lately you have been getting flower and chocolate arrangements to your doorstep. at first you thought it might be the boys trying to do something nice but they had told you that they wouldn’t have even thought about being that romantic.

you laughed it off and set it aside. the flowers did look good in your living room, after all. unless it was from a stalker fan, you didn’t mind it. you found it a little romantic.

george and sapnap knew exactly what they were doing. the moment they found out your address, they sent it to dream. they knew clay deserved everything that has happened to him. but at the end of the day, he is still their friend, and they can’t abandon him.

everyday of the week. flowers arrangements came. you asked george multiple times if he knew what was going on.

he was the only recent person you remember telling your obsession of flower arrangements to.

at first, he told you he didn’t have a clue, and soon enough, he cracked. he told you he knew, but it was your task to find out who.

the first couple days of knowing that, you tried brushing it off, making yourself busy with music or cooking for the two boys. but soon enough, you couldn’t run away from it anymore. you were curious.

a full month after your first flower arrangement came to your doorstep, you heard a knock on your door. since you thought maybe you had a package, you didn’t think much of it.

you were surprised to see the person in front of your front door.

dream.

it was your ex boyfriend.

what was he doing here? you haven’t seen him in so long, that seeing him felt weird. he was on the internet but his face wasn’t plastered on his profiles.

“what are-” your question was cut off by him.

“just please listen to me first. i swear i will give you all the time in the world to talk later but please, for now, just listen to me.”

your actions stopped. it was as if your brain stopped functioning.

you hesitantly nodded to him, signaling him to continue.

“i’ve waited so long for this. i’ve stayed in that house we first shared alone while you moved here, to pursue your passion. i saw you all over the billboards, all over my phone, my computer, even the flyers outside my house had your face on it.” you laughed at the end.

“but i chose not to do anything just yet, i wanted to see you happy, happy with your career, even if it meant me not being by your side to support you. i am incredibly proud to see that you’ve grown into such an amazing and successful woman.” you goes again.

“but i don’t think i can wait any longer. everyone thinks i’ve been happy with my own life, but how can i be happy, when i still live with the guilt of taking advantage of your kindness, taking you for granted. how can i live happily with the guilt of letting you go that day?” he continues again. you try to keep your face emotionless, trying not to cry.

“i know it feels so sudden, me coming here. but i can’t live anymore not having you anymore. please, take me back?” he finishes, tears going down him cheeks.

you started to tear up, almost sobbing.

“why did it have to take this long, stupid?” you whined, running to hug him.

he moved back slightly from the impact, not expecting you to talk to him, yet touch him .

you two heard your two bestfriends come down the stairs, laughing and faking their vomits from behind your backs.

“i fucking knew it. you two are so sneaky.” you rolled your eyes.

time flies by fast. a whole year has passed. one whole year since dream knocked on your door. one whole year since he has moved in with you and the other two boys.

yes, living with three boys can be super chaotic, but you liked it. you absolutely love the joy it brings you, even if they often steal your snacks from the pantry.

oh yeah, you had to get a full gaming set up for dream too, for making him jealous with george.

#dream imagines #dream imagine #dream x reader #dreamwastaken #dream fanfic #dream team

342 notes · View notes

amazingphanisnotonfire-imagines · 3 years ago

Text

song lyric prompts!

Hey! You guys know what to do! In celebration of requests opening soon, and to get me back into the flow of writing, I thought I’d do a month of lyric prompts, ending august 4th!

So, send a number (or a few) and a person and I’ll see what I can come up with! ✨✨

Thank you for sticking with me and I am so excited to start writing for you all again. 🥰

Prompts:

1: every time she mentions your name, she says it like a prayer (more like you: orla gartland)

2: you show up at my home, all alone with a shovel and a rose (maniac: conan gray)

3: anything you say can and will be held against you, so only say my name (just one yesterday: fall out boy)

4: i wanna sleep next to you but that's all i wanna do right now (talk me down: troye sivan)

5: i fall in love just a little bit everyday with someone new (someone new: hozier)

6: now the day bleeds into nightfall and you’re not here to get me through it all (someone you loved: lewis capaldi)

7: i always fall from your window to the pitch black streets (the kids aren’t alright: fall out boy)

8: i'm shaving with your toothpaste and trying to vacuum from the ceiling (give me a try: the wombats)

9: there'll be happiness after you, but there was happiness because of you (happiness: taylor swift)

10: cause even when she's next to me, we could not be more far apart (she: dodie)

11: things will change they always do, but my heart will stay open for you (stay open: maya hawke)

12: i know you were way too bright for me (golden: harry styles)

13: the boy you loved in spring, the way she looks at him (the key to life on earth: declan mckenna)

14: could not care less if you love me (special girl: dodie)

15: you fell asleep in my car i drove the whole time (tear in my heart: twenty one pilots)

16: if you dance with me, darling, if you take me home. will we talk in the morning? (will we talk?: sam fender)

17: you knew it still hurts underneath my scars from when they pulled me apart (hoax: taylor swift)

18: all the people over there, they don't seem to have a care, i'm so fucking self-aware, it's exhausting (pretending: orla gartland)

19: you know the galaxies of my heart (space girl: frances forever)

20: i'm just a part of someone else's dream (cool people: alfie indra)

21: tell me that I'm alright, that i ain't gonna die (hard times: paramore)

22: you started a band, that was cool for awhile but it turned pretty bland (forest whitaker: bad books)

23: don't you know I'm no good for you? (when the party’s over: billie eilish)

24: all the silver tongued suits and cartoons that rule my world (hypersonic missiles: sam fender)

25: 'cause babe, what's yours is mine, all your drama and your trauma (zombie!: orla gartland)

26: with so much left to do, you’ll be missing out and we’ll be missing you (missing you: all time low)

27: but if i just showed up at your party. would you have me? would you want me? (betty: taylor swift)

28: and i've cleaned enough houses to know how to cover up a scene (no body, no crime: taylor swift)

29: the millisecond that you're away i get the loneliest feeling (give me a try: the wombats)

30: open up your eyes, shut your mouth and see (only angel: harry styles)

31: ‘cause i found a girl, who's in love with a girl, she said that she tried, but she's not into guys (i found a girl: the vamps)

32: i saw a shooting star and thought of you (all of the stars: ed sheeran)

33: but i've found my sweet escape when I'm alone with you (disconnected: 5sos)

34: late december with my heart in my chest and the clouds of my breath (roman holiday: halsey)

35: how could i have been so foolish to let you leave (lover come back: city and colour)

36: only fools fall for you (fools: troye sivan)

37: i'm the only one that has made you fall in love (the king: conan gray)

38: now which do you prefer? to be alone, to be in love or to just be worth it? i think you're worth it (strawberry sunscreen: lostboycrow)

39: it's you, you're the one that makes me feel right (me & you together song: the 1975)

40: you don't have to be scared, babe. you don't need a plan of what you wanna do (listen to the man: george ezra)

41: you won't ever be alone, wait for me to come home (photograph: ed sheeran)

42: have i known you 20 seconds or 20 years? (lover: taylor swift)

43: looked like how i feel 'bout your lips (space girl: frances forever)

44: give me a minute to hold my girl (hold my girl: george ezra)

45: i know i'm the one you want to forget (miss missing you: fall out boy)

46: the darkest night never felt so bright with you by my side (outer space/carry on: 5sos)

47: just let me cry a little bit longer (rose-coloured boy: paramore)

48: you felt it once before i know you did (backseat serenade: all time low)

49: don’t you know that you are golden (golden: the vamps)

50: and i might never be the one who brings you flowers but i can be the one tonight (perfect: one direction)

People I write for:

Stranger Things:

- Steve

- Robin

- Nancy

- Jonathan

Riverdale:

- Sweet Pea

- Fangs

- Toni

- Cheryl

- Veronica

- Reggie

- Josie

- Kevin

- Archie

- Betty

- Jughead

- FP

- Jason

The End of The F***ing World:

- James

- Alyssa

5sos:

- Calum

- Luke

- Ashton

- Michael

Sex Education:

- Otis

- Eric

- Maeve

- Adam

- Jackson

- Aimee

- Lily

- Orla

Killing Eve:

- Villanelle

- Eve

Prodigal Son:

- Malcolm

- Dani

- Ainsley

- JT

- Jessica

- Dr Edrisa

- Dr Martin

- Gil

WandaVision:

- Wanda

- Vision

- Darcy

- Jimmy

- Monica

And if you have any suggestions of who I could write for, send them in!

support my writing! if you want!

53 notes · View notes

ilici · 4 years ago

Text

that’s my brother.

Summary: Sapnap and Dream go to the UK to visit George, and Sapnap has a one night stand with someone who looks oddly familiar.

(This is the exact same as “that’s my sister” but the pronouns are changing and a bit of the plot is going to change George’s brother has George’s features minus his hair, and eye color. Reader will be wearing a skirt, if you don’t like that you can change it to what you want.)

Warnings: Oral (giving), praising, slight size kink, choking, hand job, slight degrading.

Word Count: 2714

Sapnap leaned back in the passenger seat, and propped his feet up on the dashboard. “I’d appreciate if you didn’t dirty up the rental car.” Dream spoke up, glancing over at Sapnap before he turned his attention back to the road. Sapnap only scoffed, but kept his feet propped up. “I am aching Dream, we’ve been in every type of vehicle you can think of in the past 12 hours.” Sapnap whined, wanted to finally be able to relax. “Shut up, I’ve drove two of those hours, and the rest was on an airplane where you slept the entire time.” Dream said, shaking his head at his friends whinny behavior. “Yeah? So what? I was still in a vehicle.” He said, shaking his head, and looked at the passing buildings.

“How long do we have left till we even get to George’s house?” He asked, and Dream looked down at his phone that was on his lap giving him the directions. “About ten minutes.” He confirmed, and Sapnap felt relieved he only had to be inside the car for ten more minutes. “Thank God.” He mumbled, and looked over at him, “Didn’t George recently move out of his mom’s house and into his own place?” He asked, and Dream nodded. “Yeah, if he was still living with his mom we would've done been there 20 minutes ago.” He admitted, and Sapnap mentally cussed George out. “Does George live alone?” He asked and Dream shrugged, “He’s mentioned he has a brother that comes and visits a lot, so I would assume so.”

After a long ten minute drive, they pulled up to a gated house. “He seriously has a gate?” Sapnap said, and Dream looked at him, “Our house has a gate dumbass.” He said, and Sapnap laughed, “True true.” He nodded his head, as the gate opened for them. “He must’ve seen us on his camera or something.” Dream muttered under his breath as he drove up the driveway. “This house is huge holy shit.” Sapnap said, gawking at the house. “Well yeah, Brighton has better houses than Florida.” Dream said as if it were obvious, “It’s like a whole three stories.” He said, as they parked. George’s figure came into view and he excitedly waved at them. “Hey guys!” George said as he walked to the rental car, planning to help with their luggage. “Hey George.” Sapnap said, as he grabbed his suitcase and some of his duffle bags. Dream greeted George with a hug, and grinned. “I’ll show you two to your rooms.” George said, grabbing what was left.

As the three walked in, Dream and Sapnap were smacked with the smell of French toast. “Did you cook?” Dream asked bewildered, “No, my brother made food for us before he left to go home.” George explained, and the other two nodded. “He seems sweet.” Sapnap said, and Dream nodded in agreement, “He has his moments like every sibling would.” He explained, and Dream mentally agreed thinking back to his sisters. “Sapnap your room is on the second floor and to the right, Dream yours is on the third floor and to the left.” He informed them, and Sapnap instantly looked at George, “Why can’t I be on the third floor?” He asked, and George stared at him blankly, “Because I’d prefer you fall down two sets of stairs then three.” Dream laughed at this and Sapnap attempted to flip him off, straining his arm in the process from all the weight.

Walking up the stairs and into his designated room, he placed everything down and took in the room. “What the..” He whispered, seeing how clean everything was. The room was a dark grey, and had a huge window as a wall on his right, letting him see the clear vision of beautiful mountains. He found himself staring at the scenery, it took his breath away, “Sapnap?” George asked waving a hand in front of Sapnap. Snapping out of his thoughts, he blinked repeatedly and looked over to George, “Yeah?” He asked, and George scoffed. “I've been calling your name for the longest time.” He said waving his arms about, exaggerating. “Yeah yeah whatever.” Sapnap said, waving him off. “Get dressed, we are going to eat then I’m taking you to the club because Dream said you needed to loosen up from all the traveling.” He said, shocked that Sapnap wasn’t jet lagged.

Sapnap nodded and practically pushed George out of the room. Getting dressed, he put on black jeans, a corpse hoodie he received from Corpse himself with a note that said, “I apologize for not knowing you.” Slipping on his shoes, he walked out, not really caring about his appearance too much since he never really mattered to him in the first place. As they all finished eating, it was nearing 8 pm. Getting into the car, Dream made sure George didn’t drive, especially since it was night time. “Just because you got your license a month ago, doesn't mean I will trust you.” Dream said, as George sulked in the passenger side. Sapnap just looked at the scenery as they drove to the club. Feeling the car come to a halt, Sapnap looked up and he grinned, “I am going to get so wasted. I am so glad the age limit is different in the UK.” Sapnap said, and Dream laughed, “You turned 20 like two weeks ago, you’re crazy.” He said shaking his head as everyone got out.

After 4 cosmo’s Sapnap was wasted, and was now on the dance floor as Dream was drinking nothing for being the designated driver. “I hate babysitting.” Dream said, looking at George who shrugged, since he didn’t really like alcohol that much. “At least someone is having fun.” George mumbled, trying to find Sapnap in the mass amount of people. Without any luck, neither of them spotted him. Sapnap on the other hand, was now dancing with a boy who was wearing a Harvard sweater with a collared shirt under, and a white skirt. His features seemed similar but he couldn’t put a finger on it. His E/C and H/C was what threw him off, everything else seemed like deja vu.

His pale smooth skin, and his full plump lips, that he was dying to kiss so badly. Grabbing his hips, the two were grinding on each other. He loved the way his skirt would raise up every now and then from the grinding, “You’re beautiful.” He whispered into his ear, and the boy blushed. “Let’s get out of here, yeah?” He asked, and he nodded, “I’m going to go tell my friends that I am leaving. My place or yours? I live with my friends, so if you live alone your place is the better option for more privacy.” He said, slurring his words a tad. “My place.” He finally spoke, and his voice sounded silky and innocent if even possible. It sounded intoxicating, grinning he trailed his hand up the side of his thigh as he told her to wait for him outside. Walking in the direction of his friends, Sapnap saw them. “I’m going home with someone, you two can go home.” He said, and the other two just shot up ready to leave.

Sapnap rushed outside, calling an uber as he walked out. “Let’s go.” He said, grabbing his hand, the two stumbling about. Both were drunk, but they knew what they were doing. When the uber arrived, the boy told him his address and Sapnap couldn’t keep his hands off of him. He was either touching his thighs, or subtly kissing his neck, he felt intoxicated by him. Y/N on the other hand was growing frustrated at the touches, his sexual frustration was getting to him. “Fuck this.” He mumbled, and climbed over to straddle Sapnap, ordering the uber driver to keep his eyes on the road. “God you’re so hot.” Sapnap whispered to him, and Y/N crashed his lips on Sapnap’s, the two feeling intoxicated from each other.

Pulling away, Sapnap groaned, “I don’t know if it’s the alcohol in my system, but I could get drunk off your lips.” He said, biting his bottom lip and tugged on it. Chuckling Y/N shook his head, and gasped when he felt Sapnap’s hand going up his skirt. Leaning his head back, he bit his bottom lip holding in a moan as he let Sapnap palm him through his underwear. “Someones enjoying themself, aren’t they?” He teased, and Y/N whined nodding his head too embarrassed to say anything. The fact that the uber driver could hear and see everything made him so much more excited. Slipping his hand under Y/N’s underwear, Sapnap gripped his dick and Y/N let a moan slip out. “Fuck that was hot.” He said watching him, as his face contorted into one of pleasure. Sapnap, was now pumping his hand on Y/N’s dick, loving how he would squirm under his touch. Speeding up his hand, Y/N gripped onto Sapnap’s shoulder as he was growing close.

Speeding up once more, he rubbed his thumb over Y/N’s tip, and that’s what set him off. Letting out a strand of curses, he felt himself cum in Sapnap’s hand and in his underwear. Sapnap watched the sight in front of him, watching him unravel was the prettiest sight ever. Hearing a throat being cleared, the two looked to the front, and noticed they were now at his house. Y/N mumbled a quick ‘thank you’ as the two stumbled out of the car. Y/N paid the uber driver double since he had to witness everything. “Come on pretty boy.” Sapnap said, picking him up and placed him down once they made it to his front door. Fumbling with his keys, he quickly unlocked the door. The two rushed in and in a matter of seconds, Y/N was shoved against the door, Sapnap kissing him deeply and passionately. “Off now.” He mumbled against his lips, as he pulled his skirt and underwear off skillfully. Pulling away, Y/N let the skirt and underwear fall to his ankles. Sapnap looked at Y/N’s already messy dick hungrily, the raging red tip making him groan.

“I can’t even wait to get into your room. I am going to fuck you, right here, right now. Understood?” He said, reaching up grabbing his neck as Y/N whimpered nodding his head. “Since I let you have your moment in the car, you’re gonna give me a reward.” He said pushing him down by the throat and Y/N licked his lips in anticipation. Sapnap eagerly took off his hoodie and shirt, throwing it across the living room. “You do it.” He said, motioning for him to unzip his pants. Nodding, he started unzipping his pants, and unbuttoned them. “Use your words baby.” He said, caressing his jawline, and Y/N bit his bottom lip, “Yes sir.” He said, and Sapnap smirked, “Good boy.” He said, and he hissed a bit when he felt the cool air hit his now free dick. Y/N looked at his dick, it was long and thick. He didn’t know if it was going to be able to fit.

“Go on.” He urged him, and Y/N nodded snapping out of his trance. Grabbing the base of his dick, he gave it a long lick and Sapnap groaned leaning his head back at the sensation. Tangling his fingers in his hair, he tugged onto the strands lightly. Slowly he licked the precum off the tip, and finally wrapped his lips around his dick. Bobbing his head slowly, Sapnap let out a small moan, as he looked down at the pretty boy. “Eyes on me baby.” He said, and Y/N looked up at him with his round innocent looking eyes, which made him want to destroy him right then and there. Not wanting to waste time, he started thrusting into his mouth. Y/N on the other hand, was special as he had no gag reflex. This; however, caught Sapnap off guard completely. “God such a good little slut you are for me.” He said, biting his bottom lip.

He was amazed by him even more, he let him face fuck him, and he felt himself growing close to his climax. Shoving his dick down his throat as he felt himself cum, he slowly pulled out of Y/N’s mouth. “Swallow.” He ordered, and he obediently swallowed. Picking him up quickly he shoved him against the wall, loving how small Y/N was compared to him. “Are you ready baby?” He asked, and Y/N eagerly nodded his head. “I’m ready please just fuck me.” He whined out, and Sapnap quickly turned him around, pushing him against the wall. “Do you have lube?” Sapnap asked, and Y/N nodded pointing towards the bathroom. Quickly Sapnap bolted to the bathroom grabbing the lube. Walking back, he poured some onto Y/N and put some on his dick. Slowly entering into him giving him time to adjust. Y/N let out a strangled moan, as he wrapped his hand around his throat again. “God you’re so tight.” He groaned out, thrusting up into him roughly when Y/N motioned him to go. Y/N was a moaning mess, he kept trying to hold in his moans, but they kept escaping no matter what. Feeling herself growing close once again, Sapnap smirked, “Cum.” He whispered in his ear, leaning down to add hickeys on his neck. As he wrapped an arm around Y/N’s waist pumping his dick to help.

The way Y/N’s body was so pale and empty, it was as if he was an empty canvas waiting to be painted on. So he took it upon himself to make sure he had hickeys scattered every where he could reach. Feeling him sticky substance on his hand, he realized he had came. Groaning at this, Sapnap felt himself cum, and Y/N whimpered feeling the warm substance fill him up. Pulling out, Sapnap groaned at the sight, of his cum leaking out. Y/N soon felt himself being picked up, and a wet substance being rubbed on his ass. He assumed it was a wet washcloth, mumbling out a small ‘thank you’ he felt his upper body being covered by an oversized hoodie. Sapnap sat him on the bed, and helped him put on new underwear, he slipped on his own underwear and laid in bed. The two quickly fell asleep.

“What the hell?” Sapnap heard, and he groaned, as he slowly opened his eyes. Looking around, he finally remembered where he was. Looking over he saw Y/N still peacefully sleeping. Growing confused at the voice, he looked around and saw nothing. Looking over he noticed the beautiful stranger also had a window for a wall showing a beautiful forest instead. He wouldn’t mind waking up to that every morning, and the boy beside of him. Slowly getting up, he walked downstairs, hearing hushed voices. “Sapnap?” He heard, and Sapnap whipped around to see a red faced George, and a hysterical Dream. “I told you that was his shirt!” Dream said in between laughs. George paid no mind to him as he pointed a finger at Sapnap, “You slept with my brother?!” George yelled, and Sapnap chuckled. “So that’s who he reminded me of.” He said, and everyone went quiet when they heard soft pattering of feet walking down the stairs. Sapnap’s heart melted at the sight of Y/N tiredly rubbing the sleep out of his eyes. “George?” He asked, and George visibly calmed at his voice, “Y/N you slept with my best friend Sapnap?” George asked, and the two looked at each other. “Y/N.” “Sapnap.” The two said at the same time, finally knowing their names. “Sapnap you are lucky, and he better not be a one night stand, because you are now living in the UK.” George said, and Y/N looked over at Sapnap, “Maybe we can go on a date later?” Sapnap said, and the boy smiled nodding his head. “How old is Y/N anyways?” Dream asked, and both Y/N and George answered, “He’s my twin.”

#sapnap x reader #sapnap imagine #sapnap #sapnap smut #dreamsmp #mcyt smut #mcyt fanfiction #mcyt imagine

320 notes · View notes

talesofstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Reconcile II

Ok so I know that I wrote the first part with reader insert, but after many, many attempts to keep it that way, it just didn’t work with this one. So I’d like for you to meet Emma. This is my first time writing with OC and wow game changer. I love her and I hope you do too!

Also, I honestly can’t thank my beta queens enough @oh-honey-styles @for-fucks-sake-h 🥺💛 thanks for allll the comments and suggestions and nice words!!! ily both xx

Read part I here

Harry

“So… are we okay now?”

We’re sitting here on the sofa, finally having that very much needed father-daughter date. Granted, a movie night in was not what I had in mind. I wasn’t too thrilled when she said she wanted to just go back home after we dropped George at his classmate’s house for a birthday sleepover. I thought she would hole up in her room instead and ignore me. But she didn’t. I got us pizza for tea, and we’ve got Shrek 2 on the telly. Her animosity towards me disappeared just like that after she asked for a puppy the other day. Of course, I’m glad to have my happy-go-lucky daughter back, but deep down I know that we need to have a proper chat. The change in her behaviour is so abrupt that I know there’s a chance that my daughter is still bitter with me deep down. And that won’t do. I can take a lot of things, but my daughter’s resentment is not one of them.

“Yeah, we’re okay,” she nods as she takes a bite of her pizza. “You’re still getting me a puppy right?”

“I still need to talk to your mum about it, poppet,” I tell her. “Puppies need a lot of attention. It’s going to be hard work and that puppy is going to be a permanent member of our family. We’ve really got to think about it before we decide.”

I expect a little excitement knowing that her mum and I are really considering getting a puppy. But what I get is quite the opposite. My little girl’s gaze drops, her face slackening. Her voice cracks a little when she mumbles, “except… we’re not a family.”

I wince, realising how serious the effect our split has on my daughter. Despite Emma and I putting on a friendly, united front for our children, Minnie is still sad that her parents are not together.

“Of course we’re still a family,” I assure her, pulling her to me for a comforting side hug. “I’m still your dad, mummy is still your mum, and you and George are still the lights of our lives.”

“But you and mummy aren’t together anymore,” she points out bitterly. “And you live so far away from us now. I miss having you at home.”

“I know, my love,” I murmur gently, and turn sideways so she can see my face. “It’s killing me too. But you never know what the future holds, right?”

“I guess,” she says glumly.

I wish I can tell her that I’m trying to win her mum back so we can be together again, but I know I can’t do that. This is far too early. I don’t want to get her hopes up in case I’m not successful in convincing my wife to give me another shot. That’ll only break her heart all over again.

Thinking back, I realised that this is the first time we have a proper chat about our split. I fled to LA the next morning after my wife asked me to leave our marital home back in London, leaving her to sit down with our children to tell them that I was not going to live there anymore. I was shocked and angry because I had no idea what I’d done. I thought we were fine. There were no fights leading up to that. I still remember exactly what I told her. ‘You’re the one who wanted to end it, you tell them.’ And then I left.

Just like that. Without a fight.

I swear to God, it’s something that I would never be able to forgive myself.

“How’s your mum?”

“She’s sad,” Minnie sighs. “She cries a lot. She thinks we can’t hear her in the shower, but we can.”

Knowing I caused that physically hurts. I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone and I think about all those private tears I shed through it. The ones you hope are hidden and silent.

“Can I ask you something, daddy?”

“Anything, poppet.”

“Do you still get sad too?”

I’m not sure how much to divulge here. Does my daughter need to hear that I stopped eating? That I once cried in the loo at Cafe Habana, and once had to be fished out of a bath by Jeff after I turned into a human prune? I was sad. I still wear that hat.

“I do. It’s the end of something, that’s always sad.”

“I think mum is dating someone,” she says and my eyes widen. “She told us Luke is her friend, but I think he’s her boyfriend. They’re on a date now, aren’t they?”

I can try and deny it, but I know my daughter is smart and won’t buy anything I tell her.

“What do you know about boyfriends?” I tease, my attempt to lighten up the mood.

“I’ve just turned nine, I’m not stupid,” Minnie rolls her eyes. “‘Sides I’m thinking about getting one of those boyfriend thingies.”

I sit there slack-jawed, and my daughter roars with laughter.

“Minnie Alexandra, you’re going to drive me to an early grave, you know that?”

“Hey, what are you middle naming me for? I was joking!” She says, still laughing as she picks a piece of pepperoni off her pizza.

“How do you feel about your mum dating again?” I ask her.

She pauses. “I don’t know yet. As long as he’s nice and doesn’t put me under the stairs…”

“I’m sure he won’t. In the attic maybe,” I joke.

She laughs again. I’m thinking about keeping that bloke in the attic so my wife won’t date him anymore. Or even better, six feet under my patio. That’ll do.

“It’s gonna be okay, right, dad?”

Honestly, I’m not sure. But I don’t have the heart to tell her that.

“Yeah, Min. It’s gonna be okay.”

***

I see the headlight shining into the front windows as I walk down the stairs from tucking my daughter into her bed. That must be Emma and her date. I pull back the curtain a little to peek outside, and I’m right as I see that bollockface’s car in front of the house.

You know that saying; curiosity killed the cat? Well, in my case, curiosity fucked me with a chainsaw.

I’m a bloody idiot. I should have just closed the curtain back as soon as I recognised the car. I mean… it’s the end of a date. What did I expect to see? A high five? I knew I was so sure when they left that he would not be getting anything more than a friendly kiss, but that date must have gone really well, because right now, my eyes may as well fall out of their sockets as I see that bastard’s tongue down my wife’s throat.

I’m frozen. I’m gripping the curtain so tight that my knuckles are turning white. I stand there—stunned. Watching. I’m not even sure for how long. It does feel like forever. Like an eternity.

In hell.

And then Emma pulls back, and everything seems like a blur. I have to remind myself that my daughter is sleeping upstairs so I won’t go apeshit and knock that wanker square on his arse.

I’m still glued to the floor by the door. I’m too shocked to move. I hear the sound of keys rattling before the door swings open, and she looks surprised when she sees me.

And all hell breaks loose.

“What the fuck, Emma?!” She jolts at hearing me shout. I rarely did it. In fact, I’m not even sure if I’d ever yell at my wife before throughout our marriage. “You told me last night you’d never even kissed him. You told me you weren’t ready.”

“I- I don’t know. He caught me off guard. That was-”

“I told you I wanted to make this work,” I remind her, trying to lower my voice so I won’t wake my daughter up. She doesn’t need to see this. “Us. Our marriage. I told you I wanted to fight for you. But I can’t do that with someone shoving their tongue down my wife’s throat, can I?”

As soon as the words leave my mouth, I see her tear up and I immediately feel regret. That was harsh. But before I can apologise, I can see her lip curls up and I know she’s about to get nasty. It’s a rarity with her when we’ve fought in the past, but I feel it coming.

“You’re unbelievable, you know that?” She sneers. “You think that if you put a toy down, it’ll still be sitting there when you want to play with it again.”

“That’s-”

“You have no right to be upset at me. We’ve split up for nearly a year now. What I do and what I don’t do on my dates is none of your business.”

“I want us to give our marriage another shot,” I say in exasperation. “I want to try to win you back, but fuck’s sake you’re not even giving me the time of day.”

“Oh, look how the tables turned,” she taunts. “Sucks, innit? Being the one struggling to find the time when it seems like the other doesn’t give a crap?”

“Cheap shot, Ems,” I retort.

“Truth hurts, doesn’t it, H?”

Emma averts her eyes, her lower lip quivering. I can’t tell if she regrets her harsh words or not, but she doesn’t look back my way, and she seems to have said her piece.

I knew sooner or later this was bound to happen. We never had our big fight, not even that night when she decided that enough was enough.

“I cannot possibly go through that again. It physically hurts,” she says softly. “I know I was the one who ended it, but when you just left like that the next morning without so much of a fight as if ten years means nothing to you… that really did hurt. You left me alone to talk to the kids about what happened. And sure, you did call every day. But it took you nearly nine months to finally come and see your children?”

“I needed some time. Some space,” I tell her. “Do you think it’s easy for me being there? Away from my wife and kids?”

“You chose to be there.”

“You know I couldn’t stay in London,” I murmur. “It’s too hard. At least in LA sometimes I can just pretend that everything’s okay. That we’re okay. That my wife and kids will be there waiting for me when I get home. I can’t do that in London.”

“That’s a shit excuse and you know it,” she mutters.

“I still love you, Em,” I say with a sigh. I know trying to defend myself further for what I did will get me nowhere. “We can fix this. We can be a family again.”

“Harry, it’s too late.”

“Is it him?” I can’t help but go there, because that’s a possibility. “Do you love him already?”

“Luke is a fresh start for me, H. I may not love him now but at least it doesn’t hurt looking at him. It took me months to be able to get back up again, to get to where I am right now. To finally find a little bit of peace.”

Emma’s head hangs low, and she rubs at her temple with her fingers. I want nothing more than to pull her into my arms. But by how stiff her spine is, I can tell she wouldn’t come willingly.

“I’m sorry, Emma,” I whisper, resigned. Tears well up in our eyes. There’s nothing I can say that will change her mind because we’re not seeing eye to eye. She’s still focused on the past, not that I blame her because I did hurt her badly, but I know that there is no way we can go anywhere if she can’t see past the harms I’ve caused in the past. “I hope one day you’ll be able to forgive me.”

“I’ve forgiven you a long time ago,” she says, her expression softens. Her thumb runs at a part of her finger where a ring used to be. “Now, I just want us to try and make this separation work. Focus on the kids. Let’s do the right thing by them.”

I nod.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Yeah.”

“When did it all start?” I ask, my voice cracks a little. “When did you start feeling like you’re invisible to me?”

“I’m not sure I can point down to one exact moment,” she takes a shaky breath and pauses. “The change was gradual that by the time I realised it, I didn’t even recognise us anymore. I spent days and nights wondering what happened to us. That wasn’t us.”

I wipe that one tear running halfway down her cheek, and as soon as my thumb touches her skin, I lose it. I can’t help it by this point. Tears flow as much as I try to hold them back. She’s crying too. This is painful.

“And it’d be too easy to say that I felt invisible,” she continues. “Because the truth is, I felt painfully visible. You ignored me on purpose. I wasn’t even sure what I was to you anymore, because the only chance for me to get your attention was by getting you in bed. And that was wrong. It hurts, because it felt like you only needed me to warm your bed.”

I want to deny that statement. I want to yell it’s not true. That I never intended to take her for granted. That she still makes my heart skip a beat like a bloody teenager seeing his first crush.

But I don’t.

Because she’s right. I’m not sure what happened either, but we’d changed. Maybe it’s our jobs, maybe it’s the endless responsibilities. Domesticity, children, they wore us down. Kisses became perfunctory. Hugs became less frequent. Hell, I couldn’t even remember the last time I took my wife for a date night other than for social obligations.

“I’m sorry,” I tell her again. I’ll spend the rest of my life apologising to her if I have to, she deserves it. “I hurt you badly. I really am sorry, Emma.”

“It wasn’t all you though,” she mumbles. “I never called you out on it.”

“You didn’t,” I reply. “I never worked out why?”

“I swept it under the carpet because it was embarrassing. It felt silly having to ask for your attention. And I don’t know… pride, maybe? And the kids. I didn’t want them to know something was wrong. So I played along and carried on like nothing was happening.”

“When really…”

“It was like a punch to the guts each time. You were an excellent father. You still are, the kids adore you. This may sound insane and it’s embarrassing and painful for me to admit this, but there were times when I saw you with the kids and I couldn’t help but feel jealous. When you couldn’t even be bothered to look at me… it felt like you took a dump over all my love for you.”

“Emma…”

“I wish I could get past that. I wish I could just forget what happened and trust you again.”

I bring her in for a hug and say nothing. She needs to get this all out. This is part of the process, and I’m here to listen.

But where do we go from there?

Reconciling a broken marriage is tricky. I am not a violent person but I have never wanted to strangle people as much as I want to strangle those who wrote articles with countless advice regarding this subject, making it seem like it’s easy. Talk it out, get your point across, and you’re out of the dog house. Well, you know what, bollockface? It turns out that listening is not enough. Sod you and your dumb articles.

All I know is that I can’t rush this. She’s not ready, and that’s okay. Right now, we both have things to work on. She needs to learn to let go of her resentment, and I have to learn not to take anything and anyone for granted ever again. This is killing me, but there is no one to blame but myself. I take solace in knowing the fact that I don’t know what’s going to happen in the future. Maybe one day we’ll be back together. Maybe we won’t.

“Thank you for telling me all that,” I mumble against her hair.

“Thank you for listening,” she looks up and gives me a sad smile.

***

Emma comes from a big family.

There’s Jamie, her eldest brother and the only guy. I think the fact that he grew up surrounded by sisters was what made us the closest in the first place. He hates wine, even though he makes a career out of managing his own vineyard. I know, the irony. The next is Suze, sister number one who lives in Sheffield with her husband and three girls. Suze and her husband are both orthopaedic surgeons. Then my wife, the middle child. Then Meg, sister number two who just had a baby. It’s another girl so my George is still the only grandson in the family. And then Lucy, the youngest of the clan who’s still in university.

They all live nearby, and I knew that all my in-laws hated me a tiny bit for taking their daughter and sister away. They were a hard outfit to infiltrate. You don’t enter into a relationship with one of them, you get a whole gaggle of them. It was hard to get in, but once you’re in, you’re in for life.

After we’d split, I called my parents-in-law the next morning just before my flight to LA. I wasn’t sure whether or not Emma had told them about what happened, but I felt like it was the right thing to do. After all, they’d become my parents too for a decade. So I explained and apologised. Of course, I didn’t tell them the details because I knew they were between Emma and me, and they respected us enough not to ask. They were upset, but they also understood that these things happen in life. All they wanted was just for their grandbabies to come out of this unscathed.

Now here I am, walking behind Emma and our children as we step over the threshold into her parents’ home for their monthly roast. Her parents invited me and I accepted. I don’t want to turn down any extra time I have with my kids as I’ve decided to leave today and head back to London. I was prepared to stay longer, take some time off work and fight for my marriage, but since it all has gone to pot, I figured I should leave. The world doesn’t stop even when you’re struggling with marital woes. I’ve got work to do, and I also know that it is best to give Emma space.

I hear voices as we walk inside.

“If littl’uns are going in highchairs then what’s that extra space for?” I hear Meg’s husband say.

Meg tells him. “Count again, addition was never your strong point.”

“Oh.”

The house is suddenly quiet when they see me. This is my first time seeing the whole family again after we split, and even though my parents-in-law and I are on good terms, and Jamie too, I know the sisters would be a different story. All four of them are beyond close and they’re now looking at me as if they should’ve chucked me in the oven instead of the chicken.

You don’t do that to our sister. You hurt one, you hurt all of us.

“Uncle Harry!” Freya shouts in excitement. She is one of Suze’s daughters. She and her twin sister Tessa are only a few months older than my George.

Suze, who is sitting on the sofa, looks a bit sullen, not knowing what the right call is to make. Meg and her husband freeze.

“Alright there, mate?” Jamie greets me, trying to ease the tension. Suze glares at him.

“Are you here to do magic then, Uncle Harry?” Tessa asks.

I bend down to her level. “Not sure I know any magic, Tessie.”

“Yeah you do!” Freya pipes up. “Because when we were driving here, daddy said you did a disappearing act on Aunty Ems. Show us what you did!”

“FREYA!” Her dad barks.

Meg can barely contain her giggles.

“But we like magic. You’re rubbish at magic,” she says to her dad. He widens his eyes.

The sisters are now all smiling smugly, knowing a couple of six-year-olds just shamed me on their behalf. Extra roast potatoes for those two.

Lucy, the littlest sister, suddenly enters. That’s definitely not a happy face. “Oh, it’s you. Is that why everyone went so quiet? What are you doing here?”

“Luce,” Emma mutters.

“Because I invited him,” says a voice emerging from the kitchen. My father-in-law. “Harry, glad you could make it.”

“Of course,” I reply. “Thanks for the invitation.”

Lucy stares daggers at her dad, knowing she can’t unleash her trademark rapier wit as she’s surrounded by her little nieces and nephews. That one may be the youngest but she’s the scariest out of all the sisters, my wife included.

“Look, if it’s weird, I can just leave?” I offer.

“Nonsense, you must stay for supper,” Emma’s mum replies.

“Yeah, Harry, stay,” says Emma’s dad, staring at his daughters. “I want you lot to be nice. Otherwise, I’m putting you on the kids table. You hear me?”

The three of them nod in unison.

“You two look well,” I say, my attempt to make small talk.

“You know, dad’s been singing this morning,” Emma’s mum chirps, tilting her head towards her husband. “He joined a male choir. They think they’re Westlife.”

We all can’t help but laugh. This is classic mum. The tension seems to ease away.

Let’s just hope it stays that way.

***

There’s a strange feeling of déjà vu as I take a seat on the steps in front of the cottage.

I’m all packed up and ready to go. My weekender bag is in the boot of my car. Nothing left to do but say goodbye to my wife and kids, but I don’t go straight inside.

Not yet. I need a moment.

These steps witnessed a lot of our marriage even though we’d never stayed here for longer than a couple of weeks at a time. We loved to sit out here in the summer. I remember when I first brought my stuff here shortly after we got married, we sat out here with beers, sleeves rolled up, boxes stacked into Jenga-style columns.

I also remember sitting here last year on Christmas morning. Emma and I were both in our pyjamas and slippers, sipping coffees out of our matching Christmas mugs. We watched the kids ride their new scooters up and down the street. Everything was perfect. I had no idea that my marriage would end in just two months after that.

“Harry?”

I look over my shoulder and I urge her to sit beside me. She comes over and does just that. There is silence. We don’t say a word to each other. A quiet hum of traffic in the distance, puffs of breath cloud the air making me think we should both be wearing coats. Christmas is nearly here again. My heart aches at the thought of this being our first Christmas since everything fell apart.

“I’m sorry,” she says softly.

“I should be the one apologising, Em.”

“I know you wanted to work things out,” I hear the sadness in her voice. “I really loved you, you know that, right?”

“I do,” I nod. “Our marriage, all those years… it wasn’t all bad, though, right?”

“Of course,” she quickly replies. “We had our moments. We have Minnie and George.”

We pause, letting that sink in. In all this mess, those two were and remain everything, some symbol of our marriage not being a complete disaster.

“There were also times when you were a good husband,” she adds.

“Why do I feel like you’re going to pat me on the head?”

Emma laughs under her breath.

“Your new bloke seemed a nice sort,” I tell her, because it’s true. I may hate the guy with a burning passion, but that’s only because he’s dating my wife.

“He is.”

“That got legs?” I ask her.

“Possibly.”

“I want you to be happy, Ems,” I tell her. “With or without me.”

“Harry…”

“But I also want you to know that I’ll be waiting for you. No rush, no timeline. I’ll wait for as long as it takes. Because for me, it’s either you or no one else.”

The front door opens and two little faces pop out from behind it.

“What are you doing out here? It’s freezing!” Shouts Minnie.

“Well then come here and give me cuddles to warm me up,” I tell her.

Emma and I take a kid each. She takes George and lets him entangle his legs in hers, cradling himself into the hook of his mummy’s arm. Minnie uses me like a climbing frame. I bop her on the nose as I’ve done since she was a baby, and I like that it never stops being hilarious to her. The sky starts to dim, trees casting shadows onto the pavement. A house down the road has some festive lights that switch on and flicker on and off in strange syncopated patterns.

“This is nice,” Minnie mumbles. “I miss the awesome foursome.”

“The awesome foursome, huh?” I ask.

“That’s what you used to call us,” I hear the sadness in her voice and my heart aches. I know she feels this all a lot more than her little brother. “I still remember.”

“Do you really have to go again, daddy?” George looks at me with sad puppy dog eyes.

“Yeah, do you?” Minnie asks. “I love having you here.”

“I do, my loves,” I reply sadly. “Be good for mummy, alright? I’ll be back soon, I promise.”

“I don’t like seeing you go,” George mumbles.

The emotion is a little unbearable and I see a tear trail down my wife’s cheek. George looks petrified seeing his mum cry.

“Don’t be sad, mummy.”

“I’m not sad,” she shakes her head, quickly wiping the tear off her cheek. “I’m just sorry daddy and I couldn’t make it work.”

“Did we do something wrong?” George asks, looking at his mum and then me.

“Oh, mate,” I reach out to cup his face, Emma pulls him into a hug. “Of course not. You didn’t do anything wrong. You two are perfect, you hear me?”

“Do you still love each other?” Minnie asks.

Emma looks at me in the eye as she answers our daughter. “I’ll always love your dad, because he gave me both of you.”

“And I’ll always love your mum,” I say, my eyes pinned on my wife. “No matter what.”

Emma

“So… tell me, he a good lay? He looks the sort to have some girth.”

I probably should have warned you beforehand about this sister of mine.

Lucy is my entertainer sister who has done every job going alongside studying. She went to dance school, spent six months on a cruise ship, has been an extra and once did a two-month stint in Les Misérables. On weekends she dresses up as Disney characters and does kids’ parties which means she owns a lot of wigs and always has glitter in her bra. She’s the fun one. I keep her close because as much as I love my other siblings, this one has been a good entertainment through my separation. Mum suggested for her to live with me for a couple of weeks when I first moved back to the Peak, and I’m so glad she did. It was around the time I lost a stone and would spend most of the time napping, crying and staring at the wall, surviving on cups of tea and Rich Tea fingers. She couldn’t cook or clean and she used all my shampoo but she brought some light into the house when grey clouds threatened to consume it. She was also a great distraction because I could live vicariously through her tales of going to gigs and clubs and hear how she’s not slept and got her boobs out for reasons of fun and frivolity.

However, when you talk to her, she always goes there. She’s brash and has no conversational limit. She thinks her purpose is to not only feed me but also revive a pretty dead sex life too. Actually, it’s not just her. After my husband and I split, my sisters think it’s their job to pique my interest in men again. Luke happened after a boozy Chinese takeaway about two months ago when I joked that a spring roll was the most phallic thing I’d had in my mouth for over half a year. I remember a dumpling rolled out of Meg’s mouth in shock, so Suze decided to play the matchmaker and introduced me to Luke who worked at the same hospital with her.

Tonight, we’re having another takeaway night since my parents have all the grandchildren for the weekend. Bless them for entertaining that crew of children we seem to have acquired over the past nine years. We have seven between Suze, myself and Meg, and I just hope that my parents are well stocked with wine. They will need it.

We all sit around my dining room table with the remnants of a KFC bargain bucket, a selection of Thai food, a giant bag of chips and some battered sausages. I’d admit that we were already a little drunk to buy food sanely. Luke is also here, I thought it’d be nice to give my sisters the chance to get to know him. And it doesn’t take Lucy more than thirty seconds after Luke gets up to take a phone call before asking such questions.

“I don’t know? I haven’t slept with him yet.”

Lucy looks at me in confusion. “But you’ve been on dates and stuff?”

“We did have a cheeky snog last week but we’re taking it slow.”

“What are you waiting for? Just go shag him. Erase the memory of that wanker?”

“Hey, he’s your niece and nephew’s father,” I chastise her for calling Harry names. “Don’t call him that.”

“Why don’t you want to sleep with Luke?” Meg, my other sister asks me. “Lucy is right though. He’s really tall, I bet he’s VWE.”

“What’s that?” I ask.

“Very well-endowed.”

I chuckle. “Honestly, I wouldn’t know what to do with it.”

Meg giggles and places her head on my shoulder.

“Last time I had sex was on Valentine’s Day, girls. Do your maths. The next day, my marriage collapsed.”

Both of them huddle into me like penguins.

“Which is why you just need to get over yourself,” Lucy remarks. “You need to remember what sex is like. It’ll be fun and make you feel good. If you don’t want to do it with Luke, you can have some taster session? I’ve got a uni mate who’d shag you.”

“Lovely. No.”

Lucy huffs. “You’re so boring.”

“Honestly, Em, Luke is fit. Seems like a nice fella, and he genuinely likes you. I’d have a go on him if I weren’t married. You should just do it,” says Meg.

“Yeah, you could shag him tonight,” Lucy adds. “Meg and I can piss off out and then…”

Then she does a strange rave-style dance as she thinks of her plan coming together. Luke returns from his phone call and Lucy jiggles in her seat. Don’t you bloody dare.

“Luke, we need more wine,” says Lucy. “There is not enough and we thought you could walk down to the shop and get some?”

Meg and I look at each other for a second, wondering what our sister is up to.

“Sure, yeah, I could get wine,” Luke replies. “Any other requests?”

If she tells him to get condoms in then I will skewer her with a chopstick.

“Anything you might fancy or need?”

She’s walking an incredibly thin, thin line.

Luke gets up to retrieve his coat and grazes my hand as he does. This move doesn’t go unnoticed by Meg and she gives me a sly wink. I hand him my keys and he heads for the front door. Meg stares Lucy out.

“Seriously?” She says.

“We need to prepare you if you’re going to sleep with him.”

“Like mentally?” I ask.

“Like have you had a tidy? This will be your first time. You’ll need to at least tidy up the flaps and do a bit of topiary.”

“LUCY!” I gasp and laugh at the same time, holding my hand to my face. Who is this woman? How can you raise five children in the same house and come up with such a random entity?

She stands up and heads for my kitchen drawers, rifling around until she pulls out a pair of scissors.

“Show me your bush,” she orders.

“Lucy! I prepare food with those scissors.”

“And we’ll wash them?”

Meg is in hysterics as she sees this scene unfolding in front of us.

“I’m not getting my bush out in my kitchen.”

“You’re so dull,” Lucy complains. “I’m trying to help here. What are your pits like? Shame there’s no time to tackle your upper lip.”

I put my hand over it instinctively. “I’ve got a moustache?”

“Well, you’re not Tom Selleck but it could do with a bleach.”

“You’re being cruel now, Luce,” Meg giggles. “But I think we do need the comedy of seeing Lucy trimming your bush in the kitchen.”

I stand up reluctantly and unbutton my jeans.

“Ha!” Exclaims Lucy. “You’re wearing nice knickers, you knew this was going to happen. Just peel them back a little and let me have a look.”

“Be quick for fuck’s sake. This is something that no one needs to see.”

“Do you want a shape?”

“What?”

“Yeah, like a heart? It’d be cute.”

“No!”

Meg roars with laughter.

“I’ll just trim the length then,” says Lucy. “Meg, put your hand out.”

“Do I have to?”

“Don’t you love your sister enough to at least hold her pubes?”

I’m not even sure what’s happening here. One sister is very close to my private regions with a sharp object and I hear the creak of metal as she shears away. The other collects the trimmings in a napkin in her palm. This feels like an opportune moment to ring Suze, our other sister, and start a FaceTime chat. That time we all took one for the team so Emma could reclaim her sex life.

“Thanks, Luce.”

“You don’t say this enough I feel.”

“We really don’t,” says Meg.

“Want me to look at yours, Meg?”

“I’m good.”

“What if he’s into weird stuff?” I ask.

“Like?”

“I don’t know… maybe like choking? Stuff like that.”

“Well, no one breaks out all the moves on their first time,” says Meg but Lucy gives us a look like she begs to differ.

“And I’m not on anything. I stopped the pills months ago. What if I get pregnant?”

“That’s what condoms are for?”

They both give me a look that says I am not fourteen and that I should have an inkling about how reproduction works and the preventative measures that I can put in place to stop myself from getting pregnant.

“How do I initiate it?”

“Maybe you could dance for him?” says Luce mockingly. “You’ve both had a drink, let it just happen. Planned sex is the worst kind of sex.”

“I planned nothing. You’re the one who’s got the kitchen scissors.”

“I’m done, anyway. Not my finest work but then at least he’ll be able to find it?”

Meg laughs again as she goes to the bin with her napkin of pubes. I do my jeans up and sit at the table, downing what’s left in my glass. What if he can’t get it up? Or worse, what if he doesn’t like my boobs? I have modest boobs. They wouldn’t win any competitions. What if he wants better boobs?

“You’re overthinking,” says Meg.

“I haven’t got any condoms.”

Lucy reaches inside her handbag, pulls out two packets of johnnies and hands them to me. How far ahead has she planned this?

“Any other excuse?” Lucy asks.

“Look, tonight, just get naked with the fella, have some bloody fun. Enjoy yourself.”

I hear the key go in the latch of the front door. That was quick. Crap. Luke enters the kitchen with two bottles of red that I immediately feel guilty about as I’ve got a rack of it in the utility room. He also carries a few packs of crisps and takes the kitchen scissors that were on my table.

“No!” I stop him. “Those need to be washed.”

He looks at me in confusion and I love that he puts them in the sink without any further questions asked. He rips opens the packet of crisps with his hands instead.

“Crisps?”

Lucy grabs a handful of crisps before she grabs her phone, pretending to read some texts. “Bollocks! Meg, we forgot about the party.”

Meg quickly plays along. “Oh yeah, crap. It’s that birthday party, innit?”

I feel awful. I’m sending the sisters back out into the cold so Luke and I can have the house to ourselves. They both keep winking at me which is more down to the fact that they’ve had at least a bottle of wine each for themselves tonight. Luke stands at the kitchen door while I wave everyone off. This feels weird.

“Have fun, kids!” Chants Lucy as she shepherds Meg away from the house. I shut the door.

And then there were two. I turn around and Luke is no longer at the doorway. I tiptoe into the kitchen to find him stacking plates.

“Shall we tidy up now?” He asks.

“It can wait.”

My phone on the table lights up with an incoming text. It’s Lucy. Don’t forget to adjust your tits. Make sure they’re facing forwards. Show a bit of bra.

Does this mean my boobs are not always facing forward? Where are they looking? This isn’t helping at all. I ignore it.

“Alright,” Luke says with a smile that makes me feel relaxed but also on the faint side of nauseated. It’s probably first time nerves. Is it weird that I’m thinking about the cleanliness of my bedroom? Did I pick up yesterday’s bra from the corner of my room? Do I remember how to go down on a man? What if he doesn’t fancy me?

Sometimes I can’t help but wonder whether my marriage ended with Harry because I was terrible in bed. Maybe I wasn’t attractive enough. I’ve had kids, parts of me are stretched and doughy. Maybe I didn’t provide what he needed.

In the last year of our marriage, I think it’s safe to say that I was mainly the one to initiate things between us and my success rate wasn’t 100%. There’s this nagging thought in my head that maybe even on those nights I succeeded, those were just pity shags.

You know what, sod it.

I grab him by the collar and kiss him. He stumbles a little but then lets his body fold into mine. I can do this. Crap. He’s lifting me up. He sits me on the counter and I’d like to say the moment overtakes but there’s red wine inches from my arse so I move the glass with my hand whilst still kissing him. We’re kissing. This is weird. It’s different. It’s not my husband’s lips. Why am I thinking about my husband’s lips?

I shake my head, banishing that image. Harry doesn’t belong in this room with me right now.

I feel his hands in the small of my back and then he lifts my jumper over my head. I’m in my bra. Don’t overthink it. Oh, the bra is off. My nipples are out in the kitchen. I run my fingers through his hair as he trails kisses down my neck. Is it weird that right now, at this very moment, all I can think about is that his blond, floppy hair looks like a golden retriever?

I gasp and push him away involuntarily when his mouth wraps on my nipple. This is wrong. This feels wrong. I thought it was just first time jitters but now I think this is deeper than that.

“Are you alright?” He asks, looking concerned.

I grab my jumper and quickly put it back on. “I… I’m sorry, Luke. I can’t. I have to go.”

“Emma, I’m sorry,” his face reads panic. “Did I read the signals wrong? I thought you wanted this. I feel terrible. I’m so sorry.”

“No, please don’t apologise,” I say hastily. “You didn’t. I did want this. Or so I thought. It’s just… I’m not ready. I don’t think I’ll be ready any time soon. Or ever.”

“What do you mean? Are you breaking up with me?”

I have to be straight with him. I take a deep breath. “I want to give you the opportunity to walk away. You’re a good guy, Luke. I just don’t think it’s fair for me to string you along if we can never progress.”

“Is it your ex-husband?”

He’s still my husband. But I don’t say this out loud.

“He told me that he wanted to give our marriage another shot about two weeks ago when he was here,” I tell him. “I did say no right away. I didn’t think it was a good idea. But…”

“Is it really?” He asks. “You two have a lot of history. Two kids. Why wouldn’t you give him a chance?”

“I’m worried.”

“And what are you worried about?”

“My heart?” I say quietly. “I don’t want to go through that again.”

Luke smiles at me through sympathetic eyes. “Listen to me, Emma. I’m not a cardiologist, but I know that the hearts are the strongest organs in the human body. They can go through anything.”

What happens next feels like a blur. All I know is that by midnight, I’m already halfway down the M1, on my way to London.

Harry

It was a knock on the door that woke me up.

When I first open my eyes, I’m disoriented. I don’t know what time it is, or how long I’ve been asleep. Then I realise I’m on the sofa, and it’s still dark outside. It’s also raining. I walk towards the door and open it, just in time to catch a figure going down the steps, which doesn’t take me more than a second to recognise. I am in complete shock. Is this real? Is that really my wife, standing in front of my door in the middle of the night? Or are my eyes deceiving me?

“Emma?”

She stops on the pavement and slowly turns to face me. She’s spooked through—her jeans moulded to the curves of her legs, the sleeves of her jumper dripping, her hair flat, lips slightly tinged with blue.

“I don’t know why I’m here,” she says. “Don’t know what I was thinking.”

I open the door wider, and my voice is drowsy and deep when I say, “Come on, let’s talk inside.”

She takes a step back instead.

“I just… I wasn’t thinking. I’m here. I don’t know why,” she sounds genuinely bewildered—even a little panicked.

“Are the kids in the car?” I ask her and she shakes her head. The wind blows, spraying ice-cold drops across my bare skin where my shirt hangs open. “You’re shivering, honey, come inside.”

She stares at me, so many emotions swirling in her expression. She’s like a skittish kitten who can’t decide if she should let the stranger pat her head or haul up the nearest tree. It breaks my heart.

“I don’t think I can.”

So I go to her.

The rain is cold and hard, soaking my shirt. Her eyes dart from the pavement, to my chest, up to my eyes and back again, like she’s ready to bolt—but her feet stay glued.

I lean in so she can hear me through the rain. “Do you remember the first time we went to Paris together? When we were young and crazy enough to only rent one electric scooter for both of us, and we rode around the city at night?”

The corners of her mouth tug up a little. “I remember.”

“But then I was going way too fast and we hit a rock, and both of us went flying. I didn’t want to ride anymore the next day, because I was afraid you’d get hurt. Do you remember what you told me?”

“I said…” she begins, her eyes meet mine. “I said we had to keep riding. Because it’s the only thing that made falling worth it.”

I nod tenderly and hold out my hand. “I’m not going to let us fall this time, Emma.”

Her eyes are back on the pavement. “I’m not sure-”

I know she still doesn’t trust me. I know that sadness on her face and how it penetrates so deeply. I know she’s probably better off without me, the bastard who crushed her heart and soul and took her for granted for years.

We shy away from the things that hurt us. But that’s what scars are for. They protect the wounds. They cover them with thick, numb tissue so we’ll never have to feel that same pain again. The scars that my wife has inside? They’re tough.

I beg when she continues to stare at my hand, “Please, just come inside.”

Slowly, tentatively, her hand slides into mine.

And we go in out of the rain.

I take her upstairs to the bedroom that used to be ours. Her teeth chatter as she sits on the edge of the bed. I throw a blanket over her shoulders, rubbing her arms, sliding down to cup her hands.

“Shit, you’re freezing. How long were you out there?”

“A while. I was walking… thinking.”

“Just some friendly advice. Next time you go a-wandering, stop and buy an umbrella.”

Emma shivers as she laughs. I pull the blanket closer around her and rub her back.

“So… you gonna tell me what’s this midnight adventure about?”

Her voice comes out soft and wavering in the dark room. “I was with Luke.”

“Did he do something to you? I’ve watched enough crime documentaries to pull a perfect murder.”

She shakes her head and chuckles. “We were having a takeaway night. Meg and Lucy were there too, but then they left and there were just the two of us and-”

“Please spare me the details,” I beg.

“Nothing happened. I just… I couldn’t get through it. Your face kept popping out in my head and I knew that if I went all the way through, we’d lose our chance. And I didn’t want us to lose our chance. I know this is completely the opposite of what I said to you two weeks ago but it’s true. I wasn’t ready then and maybe I’m still not ready now, but I don’t know about the future and you said you’d wait for me and…”

Her words trail off and my chest clenches with that sublime mix of excitement and trepidation. Of wanting something so much it’s like every cell in your body is stretching, reaching for it, yet there’s a grey shadow of worry that you might never get to touch it.

“Oh, Ems…”

I cup my hands around hers and blow into them. Another shiver vibrates through her.

For a moment we sit there in silence. Memories of us in this bed come flooding back. Of the kids piling in here bright and early, and us having cuddles and catch ups over the week just gone. Of the two of us and that sacred half an hour we had together before we go to sleep. Where we could have a proper chat without little voices interrupting us every few seconds. Sometimes we’d read together too, and other times when we just couldn’t be arsed, we’d simply spend that half an hour scrolling through memes and having a laugh together.

“You’ve got to get out of these wet clothes,” I say gently, with absolutely no teasing suggestion. We’re right on the precipice. I can feel it. And I have to tread so carefully, because one wrong move could send her away, truly lost to me.

I peel my soaked shirt off and let it drop to the floor. Her eyes move, trailing over my shoulders. I stand and slowly unbutton my jeans, leaving me in black boxer briefs.

Her eyes follow my every move, looking at me.

I push the blanket off her shoulders and let it drop to the floor. I grasp her jumper at the bottom and lift slowly. I wait for her to push me away but she doesn’t. She raises her arms instead. I pull the jumper over her head and it lands with a plop on the floor. I remind myself not to enjoy the view. I’m trying hard not to look.

My chest rises and falls as rapidly as hers. I sink to my knees in front of her and reach out for the button of her jeans. She lifts her hips and my fingertips graze her skin as I slide them down her thighs, leaving the white lace knickers in place.

“Get under the sheets,” I whisper and she does just that.

She scoots to her side of the bed, and I slide beside her. Without a word, she snuggles into my side. The cool feel of her flesh is a shock at first, but in just a few moments, my heat chases away her chill. Except for her feet. I practically jump when she runs one up my calf.

“Yer a bloody ice cube!”

She laughs kind of evilly.

We face each other, almost nose to nose. Her hair still drips at the ends and a drop trickles over her collarbone, down her chest, and I’ve got to take a deep breath—because I want to lick it off her so badly.

“Talk to me,” she says softly.

“I’m taking time off work.”

“But you never take time off work?”

“I’ve got a lot to make up to the kids,” I tell her. “So I told Jeff to bugger off for at least until after New Year.”

I see her smile in the dim light.

“I’m gonna stay up with my mum,” I add. “I’ll only be an hour away from you lot.”

This is something that I’ve been mulling about. If I really do want a chance with Emma, I need to move up there because absence does not make the heart grow fonder. That may be true in secondary school when you went away for the summer. But in marriage, especially in a broken marriage, absence separates people. It creates distance. That’s the opposite of what you’re trying to achieve. You want the closeness back.

My wife’s palm runs over my bicep—tentatively at first—then with a surer touch. “They’d love that.”

“Also, you remember my old mate Stu?” She nods. “We got in touch just earlier today. He’s got a litter of puppies and he offered one for us. I told him I need to talk to you first. So what do you think?”

“A puppy, huh?”

“A puppy.”

“I think that’s a good idea,” she says. “But I’ve never had a dog though.”

“I can train it first at my mum’s?” I offer. “I’ll get it all settled. Then when it starts sleeping through the night, I’ll bring it over.”

“Does it make me a terrible mum for wishing we had that kind of service when the kids were newborns?”

“We had that service. It’s called sending them to the grandparents.”

We both laugh, and when the laughter dies down, we’re silent for a few minutes. The thrum of my heartbeat jacks up as her hand continues to stroke my arm.

“Harry?” Her voice is the barest whisper, like she’s checking to see if I’m asleep.

“Hmm?”

“I… I’ve missed you. So much.”

And I’m done.

The need to kiss her, to touch her, has been pulling at me like a raging current ever since I saw her on the front step, and with those few words, I let the current take me.

***

Numerous studies have shown that having sex extends the human life span. At this rate, Emma and I are going to live forever. We probably slept twenty minutes max throughout the night and I’ve lost count of the number of times we’ve done it. I’m pretty sure the last time we did something like that was ten years ago on our honeymoon.

We’re sitting at the breakfast nook. Her hair mussy and she’s wearing one of my T-shirts. She looks freshly fucked, which I know to be true, and I reckon she’d be ready to crawl back into bed with me if I just crook my finger. But I don’t do that. Because this, us, sitting here in the morning sunlight, playing footsies under the table while we talk over coffee is all I’ve been dreaming about every morning.

“What are you thinking about?” She asks when she catches me looking.

“You,” I smile. “You look perfect.”

“No, no more,” she shakes her head frantically. “I won’t be able to walk.”

“You dirty lass, I was trying to be romantic and all that,” I can’t help but snort in laughter. “And you always do that… rebuff any type of compliment I try to give you.”

It’s true. If I tell her she looks beautiful, she waves a dismissive hand at me. If I compliment her mind, she blushes. Even an appreciative look from me has her turning shy like a schoolgirl.

When she doesn’t respond to me, I continue to poke at her. “Why is that? Why does it embarrass you when I tell you that you’re smokin’ hot?”

She wrinkles her nose at me. “Because it’s weird. I feel like you just have to say that.”

She pretends to go through one of her old magazines from when she still lived here. I reach across the table and bat at it, causing one side to pull out of her hands and reveal her entire face to me. Now she’s glaring. “You are the most beautiful woman I’ve ever known.”

And I grin when I see red stain her cheeks.

“And you’ve got the most gorgeous body. I take one look at you naked and I can’t help but get rock hard.”

“Stop it,” she blusters, now blushing all the way down her neck.

I change tactics, but I know this will embarrass her just as much. “You are the most amazing woman. Kindest, genuine and grounded. Funniest too. And you’re the best mother for our babies.”

“Okay,” she snaps at me as she closes the magazine and slams it down onto the table. “You’ve made your point.”

Chuckling, I stretch back in my chair and nudge her foot with mine under the table. “You’re adorable.”

She rolls her eyes, which I find to be beyond adorable.

Standing up from my chair, I walk around the table and hold my hand out to her. She willingly takes it and stands when I give her a tug. It’s a natural move for her, to walk straight into my embrace and press herself against me. I tilt my head and kiss her on her jaw. “It’s something you need to get used to… compliments from me. It’s never going to stop.”

She moans softly in my ear.

“Want to know what else you’re going to have to get used to?” I whisper as I kiss my way down her neck.

Her fingers come up, tangle in my hair, and fist tightly. “What’s that?”

“My face between your legs.”

***

Some people might not put Quaglino’s into the romantic restaurant bracket, but they’d be wrong, very wrong. In actual fact, it’s quite hard to top. The interior has this 1930’s romance charm with candlelit tables, dark-panelled walls and an adjoining room for dancing to the soft tunes of the piano man singing bluesy versions of classic songs.

Tonight, I managed to convince Emma to go out to dinner with me before she goes back to our babies. I insist on driving her since I don’t want her to drive alone at night again, which she initially refused but finally agreed.

We finish our dinner and split a slice of cheesecake for dessert. Probably not my brightest idea since I keep having to readjust myself because seeing her slowly swallow a mouthful of white, creamy concoction is a pure kind of torture. But I try to kick those dirty thoughts out of my mind and focus.

Since last night, we’ve successfully managed to avoid the talk. It feels like we’re in a bubble where everything is perfect and we’re just scared to burst it, but I know this can’t go on. Emma and I need to have a proper chat if we want this to work.

“Penny for your thoughts.”

“You and I need to talk, don’t you think?” I begin.

“You’re right,” she nods. “So…”

“What is this?” I gesture between us. “Are you ready to give us another shot?”

“I think so,” she nods. “But I want us to take it slow.”

“You set the pace,” I assure her. “I want this to work more than I want anything else in my life. So I’ll do whatever you want me to.”

“We’ll see this as a new dalliance,” she adds.

I know this is supposed to be serious so I try hard not to break into laughter. “Okay. I will court you but I won’t ask you to move to an estate in the country. Not right away at least.”

“I’m serious.”

“You sound like Austen.”

She rolls her eyes. “And we can’t tell anyone either.”

“I agree,” I tell her. “And from now on, we talk to each other, alright? I’ll try to make you happy the best way I know how. But if it’s not enough for you, then you need to tell me.”

She nods, but then her graze drops before she asks. “You really do want this right?”

“I told you I want this to work more than anything else in my life.”

“It’s just… when you first told me you wanted to fight for our marriage, I was overwhelmed because it was all so sudden. You told me everything I wanted to hear. Even at that moment, everything in me screamed for us to just fall back into it all the way. But there was also a part of me that thought you were just lonely, and maybe you thought that us getting back together was the answer to it.”

“Not true-”

Emma holds up her hand. “Maybe not true, but it’s my fear. That’s why I kissed Luke that night, because I was desperate. I wanted to push things with him because I knew I’d never love him the way I love you. I knew that if things went to pot, I wouldn’t be half as devastated. But with you? I don’t think I can survive that type of heartbreak again, H. You don’t know how much it killed me to end our marriage. I can’t afford to fall back into something that’s not going to last.”

“Emma,” I reach across the table to take her hand. “I can’t even imagine how hard it was for you. I know for sure it was not a decision you made lightly, nor on a whim. I wish I had fought you on it then… had fought for you then. There was a time when I thought our marriage was over, and I was going to let you go. But I’m not going to do that now. If it takes you weeks, months, hell, Emma… if it takes you years to fully trust my devotion to you, I’m in this for however long it takes.”

Emma nods, biting into her lower lip. I can see her eyes starting to water because every bit of this is overwhelming. She turns her head towards the music floating in from the other room. It’s a Van Morrison cover, Crazy Love.

“Wanna dance?”

The request takes me by surprise since this isn’t like her. But I toss my napkin on the table and move to stand next to her, holding out my hand. The simple delight on her face when her hand slides into mine is everything.

We step out onto the edge of the dance floor. I wrap my arm around her lower back, holding her tight and flush against me. One of her hands rests on my shoulder, playing with the hair at the nape of my neck. The other is clasped in mine just over my heart. We sway, eyes pinned at each other for a few moments.

“Thought you hate dancing?” I smirk.

“Still hate it,” she answers. “I’m just using it as an excuse to be closer to you.”

She sighs, practically sinks into my arms. Emma’s head fits against my chest like she was made to be there. My chin rests against her hair.

“Emma?”

She lifts her head from my chest. “Yeah?”

“You don’t need an excuse.”

She give me love, love, love, love, crazy love…

***

“What the-”

“Oi!” I yell, quickly pulling the duvet over my wife and I. “Heard of knocking?”

“Heard of a bedroom lock?” Lucy challenges.

Last night, we drove up the M1 straight from the restaurant. We took breaks in deserted services with shiny floors and bad lighting where we had coffees and wandered around WHSmith bulk buying sweets even though it’s really not that far. But you can never have too many travel sweets, can you?

And now, here we are, back at the cottage. The kids are still at their grandparents until this afternoon so Emma and I are enjoying the benefit of having the house all to ourselves by having a morning shag. That is until one of her sisters walks in on us. I’m very aware that I’m still inside Emma.

I pull out, roll over to lay down next to my wife, and we both stare at Lucy who is dressed from head to toe like Princess Jasmine from Aladdin.

“Party?” Emma asks her sister. We both try not to giggle as she sashays in to look at herself in the mirror then perches on the bed in her harem pants. Today, she’s gone heavy on the winged eyeliner and shows off a flat midriff. I quite like the pointy silver shoes though.

“No, Tesco,” she says dryly. “Obviously a party.”

“What are you doing here?” I ask her.

Lucy glares at me. “What are you doing here? Besides rearranging my sister’s guts, of course.”

I don’t even flinch. I’ve been married to Emma for ten years, I’m used to this sister of hers.

“I’m trying to win your sister back,” I say earnestly. I know that Emma and I talked about keeping this a secret, but she literally walked on us shagging. There’s no point in denying it. It’s best that she knows my true intention rather than thinking we’re divorced with benefits.

“Eh, about time,” she replies nonchalantly.

“Luce, please keep this to yourself for now,” Emma begs her. “This is still new.”

“I will,” she nods. “Just a friendly reminder, though, Styles. If you hurt my sister again, I won’t even think twice before starting a business selling voodoo dolls of you. Bet I could make a fortune of that.”

In their girl gang, Lucy is the wildcard, the likeliest to carry a shank. I don’t even laugh because she could be serious.

“Duly noted.”

“What are you doing here this early?” Emma asks her sister.

“I wanted to ask if I can borrow that giant tiger in George’s room?”

“Feel free to borrow the rug in the front room as well,” I cackle.

“Ooh yeah,” Emma chirps. “Are you going to find a whole new world?”

“Have you got your Aladdin?”

She pulls a face at our mocking. “My mate who’s supposed to be Aladdin is sick so I asked Jamie to fill in and he agreed because he owed me a big favour. But this lot changed their mind and wanted a genie so now I have to go to Jamie’s and convince him to let me do a full blue body paint on him.”

Emma and I roar with laughter. “Please, please, please, take some piccies.”

***

A month later…

I can only imagine the joy on my children’s faces when they open the door. I’ll be standing there with the pup in hand, but I know I’m practically vibrating with excitement myself. I glance over at the little dog crate that we’d prepared to transport him in. It’s a sweet, nine-week-old Bernese mountain dog. He’s pretty chill, curled into a round ball, but he’s not sleeping. His eyes are open and alert, as if he’s just waiting to find out what’s around the next corner.

The back of my Range Rover is loaded with two boxes of food, dog toys, bowls, a leash, and appropriate treats. Since I’m still crashing at my mum’s, that will go to her place for when the kids and this puppy come to stay. Emma has an identical list at her home, already purchased and hiding until we hand the puppy off to the kids.

I’ve got a feeling that today is going to be a good day. All morning, Emma and I texted back and forth. Some of it was practical, like making sure we agreed on all the dog rules we’d lay down with the kids tonight. Some of it was lighthearted teasing. Some of it was dirty.

I can’t remember the last time I texted my wife throughout the day just for the hell of it. I had fun with it, and I know without a doubt she had fun with it too. Which made me realise what a twat I’d been for never doing something as simple as letting her know she was on my mind in just such a way.

Pulling into the drive, I cut my headlights so the kids wouldn’t see me approach. I shut the engine off, quietly get out of my side, and press the door closed quietly. On the other side, I open the passenger door, then spring the latch on the dog crate, and this tiny little puppy totters straight at me with tail wagging.

I lift him in my arms. I shut the door and then move over to the patch of grass. I put the puppy down so he will go potty before I bring him in. When I was a kid, we had a dog called Max, but I sort of grew up with him so I didn’t remember when he was a puppy. And Emma never had a dog before, so we’re sort of winging it with this puppy training thing. But I don’t fret about it. I mean, we’ve had babies, they’re harder than this, surely?

I patiently wait for this little fella to do his business, which includes a few minutes where he attacks my shoelaces and tugs. Shite, he’s cute.

Eventually, he sniffs around, tail high and then abruptly squats to pee. I thought boy dogs lift their legs when they pee but maybe not at this age. I immediately bend and give him praise with an upbeat, positive tone that makes him excited. Who’s daddy’s clever little fella? You are! Yes, you are! You did well, mate. That was brilliant! He puts his paws up on my shin, accepting my stretches with tail wagging and tongue lolling out the side of his head. My kids are going to fall in love with this little guy.

I scoop him up in my arms when he’s done and make my way inside. But instead of entering from the front door, I circle the house so I can enter from the back, knowing they must be all in the kitchen as this is usually the time when the kids would do their homework for next week. Walking past the window, I see that I’m right. Emma is at the kitchen island with George next to her and Minnie on the opposite side. My heart starts beating faster at the thought of spending the day with my family—and apparently our new third child in my arms—and I find it almost shameful I have such excitement over it. Shouldn’t I have always been this excited? Or is it normal for things to just settle, and we take them for granted?

I shake that thought off of my mind. I had this important talk with my wife a couple of weeks ago about how we shouldn’t focus on the past. We’re both committed to repairing our marriage, and for it to work, we both know we must commit to living in the present. Because at the end of the day, the present is all we have.

I knock on the door and as planned, Emma will tell the kids to answer it.

In moments, it’s swinging open. I get a flash of Emma walking up behind our kids, but my eyes are pinned on them. They’re both in complete shock, eyes wide open staring at the puppy squirming in my arms.

Both stare at me mutely, frozen, as if they can’t believe that this is real.

Finally, I say, “surprise!”

Minnie’s gaze rises up to meet mine. “Is that ours?”

“This is ours,” I nod, laughing. But still, neither of them move forwards, so I goad them. “Come and get him?”

That’s all it takes for Minnie to scoop this little fella into her arms, pressing her nose into his head and murmuring little endearments. George scratches him and he reacts to their greetings by wiggling frantically and trying to lick both of my kids’ faces. They both laugh in a delighted way I’ve never quite heard before.

I look at my wife and see her tender smile as she watches our littles. I can tell she’s as charmed by it as I am.

I walk inside because it’s colder than a witch’s tit outside and shut the door. “He just peed outside, but we need to keep a close eye on him. If he starts sniffing around or circling, that probably means he needs a wee. Scoop him up and take him out to the back. After he’s done with his thing, give him lots of praise and affirmation.”

“Got it,” Minnie says as she plops down on the living room floor with the pup. The puppy jumps around, and all three of them start to play.

“Now, what should we name him?” Emma asks.

“Droolius Caesar?” I joke.

Emma laughs. “Jimmy Chew?”

“Sarah Jessica Barker?” I continue. “Wait, no, it’s a boy. Franz Fur-dinand?”

“Sir Barks-a-Lot?”

“Deputy Dawg?”

“Bark Twain?”

We both laugh. We’re shite at this. The kids are too busy with the puppy to comment on our suggestions.

SpongeBob SquarePants is on the telly playing in the background. None of them are watching, but I see SpongeBob scratching his snail pet under the chin before he picks up said pet and says, “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

“Gary,” I say. The kids look at me and I point at the telly.

“That’s a ridiculous name for a dog,” Emma cackles. “But I like it.”

“That’s a human name?” Minnie’s brows knit slightly.

“I like it!” George exclaims, then proceeds to baby talk the pup who’s chewing on the end of Minnie’s braid. “I love you Gary. Gary, Gary, Gary, Gary…”

We laugh.

“H,” Emma calls, and my gaze moves to her. She jerks her chin to the kitchen. “Help me set up the table? I’ve got a cold beer for you.”

Minnie and George still completely ignore us as we move into the kitchen.

It would be natural for me to sit at the kitchen island while Emma gets the beer and checks on the supper, but the kids can see me from where they sit in the living room. So I follow my wife behind the island instead.

Before she can make it two steps, I move right into the back of her. Hands at her hips, I push her all the way forward until the counter catches her hips, then I dip to put my lips to her neck.

Emma’s head falls back and she utters the tiniest of sighs, one arm looping back to go around the side of my head so she can thread her fingers in my hair. It’s an intimate embrace, but not one to provoke lust. Just a message that I missed her even though I saw her two days ago, and I love touching her in this gentle, loving way.

“The kids,” she murmurs. “They might see us.”

“Oh, the tragedy,” I whisper dryly. “Our children seeing their parents hugging.”

Emma snickers and pulls away, glancing over her shoulder. “It would be shocking to them. And until we know for sure what we are and where we’re going, we need to keep them in the dark, remember? I don’t want them to get their hopes up.”

“You’re right,” I mumble in a low voice before moving to the island. I glance back at the living room and see the puppy on George’s back, trying to climb up. “No touching around the kids.”

She smiles and hands me a beer. She’s got one in her hand, and we tap bottles. She then moves to the oven, where she bends to take a peek through the window. Obviously, I stare at her arse as she does.

“It’s done,” she announces, opening the oven to pull the pan of shepherd’s pie.

“Need help with that?’ I ask, noting it looks like it probably weighs fifty pounds.

Twisting, she grins. “Sure. I made a double batch to send you home with some leftovers.”

That gets me. Not only she made one of my favourite meals, but she’s also sending me home with leftovers. I pop off the stool, round the island and take the two potholders she’s holding out to me.

After I carefully lift the pan from the oven, she shuts the oven door. I set it down on the two trivets she’s placed on the counter.

Bending over, I inhale the scent deeply. “Smells fantastic.”

Emma bumps her hip against me. “Well… you’ve been pretty amazing these last few weeks, so…”

I bump her hip back before sliding my hand around her waist. Bending my head, I murmur. “Admit it… it’s for the orgasms I gave you after the school run the other day.”

She chuckles with a sly smile. “Possibly.”

Leaning in closer, I touch my temple on the top of her head, lowering to a complete whisper. “You do know that I can give you that any day you want, right, Em? All you’ve got to do is ask.”

“Oh, I will,” she teases.

“What’s going on here?” Minnie says from behind us.

Emma and I jump apart as if we’d been electrocuted by each other. We spin to see Minnie standing there, with George next to her holding Gary in his arms. These two must have worn that pup out as he is still, watching us curiously.

Minnie’s expression, on the other hand, is condemning and suspicious.

“Nothing’s going on, poppet,” Emma says, her voice a little squeaky in panic. It’s adorable.

“Your mum and I were just talking,” I calmly explain.

“With your arm around her waist and whispering,” Minnie challenges. “Looks more like flirting to me.”

“Are you upset about it?” I challenge back. I knew she was upset when we separated and she struggled with it for a long time.

Her brows knit together. “I’m just confused.”

Emma’s expression indicates she has no clue what to say. I can’t say I’m any more well equipped, but I’m going to take this one. I give my wife a subtle chin tilt, silently telling her I’ll handle this and relief evident in her eyes.

“Come on, you lot. Help me sort Gary’s stuff,” I say, herding them towards the garage.

All three of them follow me into the garage, Gary still cosy in George’s arms.

I immediately spot the stack of supplies, which includes a dog crate similar to mine, as well as bowls, a soft dog bed, food and toys. I pick up the soft bed towards the door that leads back into the house. Minnie turns to precede me, but I stop her. “Hang on there a second, poppet.”

When she pivots to face me her expression is guarded. “You asked about your mum and me. What do you want to know?”

“Were you two flirting with each other just now?” She demands. Crap. She’s nine. She’s not supposed to know that stuff.

I can’t believe I get a little warm in the face at such a question, but I nod. I know it’s probably too soon to tell them but there’s no point in denying this. Both of my children are smart, and they deserve to know what’s going on.

Her eyes narrow. “So are you… what… getting back together?”

“Does it mean you’re gonna live with us again, daddy?” George chirps.

“Not yet, nuggets. It’s not that simple.”

“It kind of is,” she replies. “You left for months. You didn’t even come during the summer. Then once she started dating Luke-”

“What’s dating?” George turns to his sister.

“It’s when you like someone and they like you back and you become boyfriend and girlfriend then you go out to eat together and do other stuff,” Minnie explains, then she continues. “Then once she started dating Luke, you’re suddenly coming around more often. And then she told me that Luke wouldn’t come over anymore and now you two are making googly eyes at each other.”

We lapse into silence for a moment. I need to think carefully about what to say next. George beats me. “I think I’m dating someone.”

“You what?” My eyes widen.

“Yeah. I asked Poppy in the playground to be my girlfriend the other day and she said yes. Then after we were done playing on the slides we got hungry so she shared her raisins with me. I also let her take a sip of my Ribena.”

I try hard not to break into laughter but Minnie doesn’t even crack a smile.

“Okay… so here’s the thing. I was very upset. I know that was wrong of me to just leave without saying goodbye, and it was wrong of me for not visiting sooner. I needed time to let it go, and to accept what your mum wanted. But not once during that time did I not want to come back home. I’ve always wanted my family back.”

“Then what changed?” Minnie asks.

“Your mum and I spent some time apart because we both thought that was the best decision. But we were wrong. Because we realised that we didn’t want to be without each other. So now I’m trying to prove that I’ve changed. That I’m a better man, and I’m ready to be a better husband. The one your mum deserves.”

“See,” Minnie murmurs, her expression filled with confusion. George dips his head and rubs his cheek against Gary’s head, who seems to be on the verge of falling asleep. “I don’t get it. You and mum always seemed to get along great. You never argued. I never understood why you left.”

I move in close to my daughter and brush a lock of hair behind her ear. “A lot of that stuff is private between your mum and I, poppet.”

George asks. “But why can’t you just move in now, daddy?”

“It takes time, mate. Your mum and I need more time to sort ourselves out. But I promise you two that we’re trying our hardest here, okay? We need you both to be patient. Can you do that for us?”

They both nod in unison. Gary blinks twice.

“I can’t wait for us to be family again,” says Minnie.

Grinning, I bend to kiss her head. “Me too, poppet…”

***

Emma

“Gary! This way, Gary!”

Harry and I look at each other across this rather windy hilltop. The kids and Gary are exploring the neighbouring bushes and pathways as we perch ourselves on a rock nearby. We take in the view, the breeze biting at my cheeks.

My husband turns to me. “Tea? I put some whisky in it.”

“Hell, why not.”

Harry pours the tea out and we clink mugs. He brushes his thumb across my nose for no absolute reason. I was born and raised here, but this is something I’ll never tire of: these swooping hills and valleys, infinite skies and bracing breezes. As much as I loved London, I’m glad we’ve traded that life with this simpler one. There is no taxi nor Tube in sight but our kids are somehow a little bouncier and carefree. They’re happy here, and that’s all that matters.

“Ey up,” greets Harry at a group of people walking past us. They are obviously tourists as they have no way to respond and one of them is wearing bog standard Reebok Classics.

We hear the kids squeal in the distance and we both smile at each other. Getting that pup was probably one of our best decisions.

“Do you remember when we first dated?” Asks my husband. “You brought me up here.”

I nod. “I do.”

“The view was decent,” he grins.

“I know you’re not thinking about the view.”

“I was thinking about what happened when we got to the top of the meadow…”

“That was some decent shag,” I chuckle. “Nowadays, I’d worry about getting ticks on my unmentionables.”

We laugh.

I stare over at my husband taking in the view and sipping tea noisily. He always pauses for a moment on any walk to drink it all in. He rustles in his bag and gets a packet of biscuit out, opening the packaging awkwardly and offering it to me.

“Did you know that you’re supposed to call it ‘niece’ and not ‘nice’? Apparently, they’re named after the French town.”

“That’s proper pub quiz trivia knowledge right there, Styles,” I tease.

We stay up here for a little while, but since it’ll get dark soon, we start our walk back to the car. The one thing you forget about taking kids up mountains (small hills) is that for all that experience of green space and fresh air, eventually, you will have to bring them down. Despite having an entire packet of biscuit (with a whole lot of why did you bring this one? This is rubbish. You could’ve brought hobnobs), we failed to remember to pack enough snacks and a fine drizzle is now scratching at our faces. It takes George much persuading to keep walking and by the time we return to the car, the sun is dipping behind the clouds and the twilight sits in the air.

Harry decided it was fine to park in a deserted car park in the middle of nowhere to escape the throngs of regular walkers and tourists but strangely enough, when we get back there, we are one of six parked up.

“Come on, mate. Literally, just to the car. Like twenty more steps,” Harry begs our son to keep on walking.

“You lied!” He complains. “You said that twenty steps ago.”

“I’ve got Haribo in the car.”

He progresses to a light canter.

“Where did all these cars come from?” Harry asks as he approaches our motor cautiously.

“Maybe you’re not the only smart one here and people are following your lead.”

A car flashes us.

I look around at all the cars. People are sat in them. What are they waiting for? You see this sometimes when waiting for the rain to pass or when people decide to eat their lunch in the car.

Suddenly, I hear a car door open and a gentleman approaches us. His footsteps are low.

I know him. It’s Patrick. He’s our postman, so, yes, we have our very own Postman Pat. It was the first thing that tickled Harry when he found out years ago. And even better, the joke is not lost on Pat. His wife even got him a stuffed black and white cat for his cherry-red van window. I smile at recognising him, as do all of the occupants in our car.

“Emma, Harry, kids. Fancy seeing you here, of all places.”

“We’ve got a new dog and we were just taking him for a walk,” I inform him.

“Oh, lovely. What’s his name?”

“Gary,” the kids say in unison.

“Have you got a dog, Pat?” George asks him.

“No, my wife’s a cat lady. But funny you should mention dogs. This place here, people like to come here for that reason.”

“Gary seemed to like it,” pipes in Harry. “I think it’ll be his favourite.”

“That it is. People come here all the time for walking and with their dogs and other such endeavours.” His face looks slightly ashen at this point, his eyes darting towards the other cars. “And the other sense of the word… I just thought I would mention it as you have the littl’uns and it’s getting darker. I think someone just flashed his lights to warn you.”

Harry and I realise what he means exactly at the same time. “OH!” we say at the same gobsmacked volume.

“Dogg…ing…” Harry mumbles. “We should-”

“Leave, like definitely leave, like now,” I say finishing his sentence.

The kids appear confused. I look around and shield my eyes. I should shield the children’s eyes. Pat’s wife waves from the passenger seat.

“Give our regards to June,” I say.

“Will do.”

He salutes us and returns to his car. The kids have all the questions. “People come here to look at dogs?” George asks. “Where are the dogs?”

“Get. In. The. Car.” Harry mouths very deliberately.

I slink into the passenger seat. Our eyes dart in different directions trying to divert focus from any of the cars ahead. We’ll be good if Harry doesn’t drive us off a cliff face. He turns on the wipers, the engine roars to a start and he pulls away slowly.

“We could have stayed and seen the dogs,” says George, a little despondently. “Gary would’ve loved to see his mates. Wouldn’t you, Gary?”

I throw a packet of Haribo at him. Harry and I are silent. We’ve just strolled our children and our very young dog into an outdoor sex hotspot. We are terrible parents.

“Who fancies chips?” Harry says as he changes gear. He finds our littles in the rear-view mirror and studies their faces. “There’s a decent chippy down road.”

There’s a chorus of approval from the back seat. My husband smiles. He then moves his hand over from the gearstick to find mine, fingers interlocked, the sky glowing a thousand different colours.

***

“Are you calling my turkey dry?”

I look over at my older sister Suze in the corner of our family kitchen wondering where on earth she had the courage to come out with a comment like that. Even her husband stops washing up to absorb what his wife just said to our mother. I mean, you think it, but you just douse it in gravy and make do. Such is the joy of white chalky meat like turkey. Why do this now? Now she’ll harp on about the bacon she puts on the breasts and all the goose fat. But it’s Suze. She likes the challenge. I secretly think the only way she believes she can have a relationship with our mother is to spar with her regularly so they at least have one line of communication.

“It was a lovely dinner, Mum. Did you make the mince pies?” Suze winks at me.

I shake my head at her and bring the plate of mince pies through to the living room. Amidst my mother’s wreaths and tinsel wrapped around the lampshades, it’s a familiar tableau: Pop, my grandfather, asleep in the armchair in the corner, a holy green paper hat covering his eyes. Small children crawl on the floor and make angel shapes with their bodies amidst remnants of old glittery wrapping paper. I hope Mum’s made a trifle. My other sister Meg and her husband snooze on a neighbouring sofa, catching on much needed sleep since they just had a baby four months ago and I still remember four months sleep regression is hell. I like this part of Christmas where bits of old crackers litter the floor and twilight takes over.

I take a mince pie and escape to the last vacant spot on the sofa. George rests his head on my knees. “What are you eating, mummy?” I look down at his bright green eyes and wonder how he can still be hungry as he must be ninety per cent roast potato at this point.

“A mince pie.”

“With cow mince?”

“No, like fruity bits,” I pick out said fruity bits and drop them into his mouth like a baby bird. He pulls a face, tasting it, and then walks away.

Harry smiles at me from the bottom of the Christmas tree. He’s laying down on the floor with one of my nieces. He’s always been great with kids, long even before we have our own. My niece has her palm out, and Harry runs circles in it as he sings, “round and round the garden, like a teddy bear…”

She smiles and laughs, poising her fingers, ready to bounce.

“One step, two-step, tickle me under there,” he pretends to collapse into giggles and my niece’s little face broadens into laughter before she rolls over and walks away to play with her cousins.

Finishing my last bite of the tiny pie, I roll under the tree to join my husband. He looks at me as I cosy up next to him, the lights reflect off his eyes.

My mother likes a real tree for Christmas. It’s the smell, you can’t beat the smell. I like to think you can get that real pine smell from a good supermarket brand toilet cleaner but I don’t say that out loud for fear of incurring her festive wrath. And so there’s always a real tree and like we endured when my siblings and I were teens, there’s still a daily rota of vacuuming up the needles as we watch that bastard go crusty and brown as it’s shoved up against the radiator.

We lay there in silence, looking up at the branches and my mother’s multicoloured lights twinkling in some erratic fashion that my eyes can’t quite handle. I’ve been to raves that were less of an assault on the senses. It’s an overwhelming memory of our childhood, lying in silence wigging out on mum’s trippy disco lights, absorbing the magic of the season.

“You’re drunk aren’t you, tipsy-tits?”

“You were the one who poured double shots of Baileys in our coffees this morning,” I cackle.

“That’s called Christmas milk.”

“What are you doing here?” Minnie asks, her head nestling into my shoulder. I rake pine needles from her head.

“Nothing…” Harry replies. “Where’s yer brother?”

“Here,” George suddenly appears, rolling under the tree next to his dad to join us.

“Looks like the awesome foursome is back, huh?” Harry grins.

Minnie and George hum in agreement. I can see my babies smiling.

It’s time.

“Harry?”

“Yeah?”

I take a deep breath. “Will you come back home with us?”

tag list: @gohometoacactus @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @kikisparadise18 @2am-2pm @rogersdirty-louse @harrys-cherriesss @icycoldbeanieweanies @niallbestie3 @peakascum @coucoukayy @awesomebooklover17 @sunflowerryvol6 @stylessugarhigh @umadirectioner

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles ff #harry styles fics #harry styles angst #harry styles fanfics #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #divorce harry #dad!harry #husband!harry #harry styles x oc

822 notes · View notes

rostovs-lover · 4 years ago

Text

roy rogers

brian may x reader | cursing, some suggestive language, a little bit of anxiety, alcohol consumption | she/her pronouns | fluffy? slow-burn?? | wc.3667

i’m low key tempted to make a part two,,

anon : Can I request a super cute fic where Bri needs more money for uni, so he starts offering guitar lessons and the reader has a little brother who really wants to learn how to play, so she signs him up. Maybe her brother is extremely good with a guitar and he has a lot of lessons with Bri. He also sees the reader a lot and he catches feelings HARD. Maybe the reader’s little brother spills something to both of them with the help of the rest of the band and they end of together. I just need major FLUFF

your younger brother thinks his guitar teacher is perfect for you and he’s adamant about getting you together. requests open!!

A Roy Roger’s is a nonalcoholic drink made of cola and cherry grenadine and topped with a maraschino cherry.

Your younger brother, David, practically lived in your apartment. For a fourteen year old he was brilliant and very, very sneaky. Sneaky enough to creep out of your mother’s house in the dead of night and crawl up to the fire escape of your second story apartment.

When you’d stumbled to the kitchen, half asleep, he’d been at the table thumbing through a cookbook. He’d also had the audacity to laugh when you screamed, thinking he was an intruder. It wasn’t the first time this had happened, and it most definitely wouldn’t be the last either.

“One of these days something is going to be thrown at your head,” You hissed, setting a bowl of cereal in front of David, who looked at it with the utmost disgust.

“What is this?”

“Quisp, either eat it or starve.”

He glowered at you, “I like Waffelos,”

“That's so sad, I have no money, its Quisp or nothing.” It was quiet for a while as you both ate, David still looking through your cookbook.

He closed the book, examining the cover as he spoke, “Mum said you have to sign me up for guitar lessons,”

“Mum said what?”

“You have to sign me up for guitar lessons, she’ll pay. I have a well of untapped potential in the musical realm. That's according to her coworker, Deirdre.” He sighed, exasperated, “Mum trusts Deirdre apparently because now I have to learn guitar.”

“Where on earth does mum expect me to sign you up, I mean did she give you any specifics, like a price range? Do you even have a guitar?”

“First, I have mum’s old guitar. Second, she just said lessons. I think she trusts your judgment.”

Despite how much you appreciated your mother trusting your judgment, finding reasonably priced guitar lessons with someone who wasn’t a creep was harder than anticipated. You had collected a handful of flyers and business cards, all offering said lessons. The first call you placed was to a nice old lady looking to take up some spare time by providing lessons but she lived too far away for your mother to drive every week. The next was almost promising until you told Robert MacIntere that the lesson was for your brother, not you and he hung up the phone. One woman had too many cats, another man asked for your shoe size, someone else cursed you out when you said you couldn’t do their outlandish prices. The only promising thing you had gotten was a History professor, a very nice man too. You were thrilled when the lessons had finally been scheduled until he bowed out at the last minute and you were back at square one.

You had almost given up when, one rainy Thursday evening, you found an advert pinned outside of the auditorium. Guitar lessons, not too far away, open every Tuesday and Wednesday after three o’clock. The document was typed, all except a phone number scrawled on the bottom, almost as if an afterthought. You scratched the number on the palm of your hand and called straight away when you got home.

The line wrung for several seconds, “Yo?”

“Hi. Hi, yes I’m calling about a flyer I saw posted at Imperial College? It was an advert for bi-weekly guitar lessons, and your number was on the paper. I was wondering about booking a couple of weeks?”

The person on the line snorted, “Sorry dear, that’s not me. I assume you’re looking for my mate, just one moment and I’ll gather him-” You heard his hand cover the receiver as she called for someone, “Just one sec’ lovie,”

The phone was audibly handed off, “Hello?”

“Hi, um I’m calling about the guitar lessons?”

“Oh!” His voice, “Yes, of course! That's me, are you looking to schedule one?”

You had scheduled for the following Tuesday at four, to meet at his apartment. In the car on the way there, David rambled on about everything he wanted to learn and exactly how ecstatic he was for this. He had named his guitar George, after George Harison, who he admired. On the elevator ride up to Brian’s apartment, David was practically vibrating and he bounced on the balls of his feet as you waited at the door.

The door was opened by a blond, clad in a bathrobe and flannel pyjama pants who puffed at his cigarette as he stared at you, “What brings you here?”

Before you could speak David, who the blond hadn’t noticed until just then, piped up, “The guitar lessons. I’m the one being taught, [Name] is just sitting in.”

“Oh, well come in then, I’ll go and get Brian.” He tucked his cigarette behind him and lead you inside, “Um, make yourselves at home, couch is all yours.” He howled Brian’s name and ducked into the kitchen, snuffing out the smoke in an ashtray.

David got settled on the couch, tugging out his guitar, and you set into a chair. From around the corner rushed a very frantic body, clutching his own guitar. He was very tall, and the black pants he wore made his legs seem unproportionate to his body. What caught your eye the most though was his hair, he had a thick mane of tightly wound black curls, which also added to his height.

“Hi, I’m very sorry about this, I got a touch caught up in a bit of school work.” He settled onto the couch next to your brother, “You must be David, I’m Brian.” He gestured a hand to your brother.

David, ever the charmer, shook firmly as he spoke, “Its pleasure meeting you. I wasn’t quite sure that lessons were even going to happen, no one seemed right, according to mum, but you seem nice! Your guitar is neat. Oh! That's my sister, [Name], I believe you spoke on the phone.”

“We did,” Brian leaned forwards to shake your hand as well, “Its nice to meet you,”

A better teacher would have been hard to come by. Brian was patient and soft spoken, he worked at your brother’s pace, never rushing past anything he didn’t fully understand. The lesson was only an hour long but it seemed much shorter, with a book in tow you didn’t pay much mind to anything else. That was until you caught yourself glancing over the cover to watch the lesson. Brian was attractive and he had very nice hands. You were somewhat aghast you’d never seen him on campus, he seemed hard to miss.

The lessons became weekly, and despite trusting Brian and his roommate, Roger, you still opted to stay for every one. It was always pleasant, the apartment was nice, Brian was nice, and you had begun to get acquainted with his friends. During the third week, Roger had let it slip that they were in a band. Brian’s face had flushed scarlet and he’d played with his fingers as he explained that it wasn’t anything serious. On that same visit, you’d had a conversation with Roger in the kitchen while he got you a glass of water. He was nice, only half awake at the time, but you’d realized you had an evolution class together at school. He had also given you his number, and David would absolutely not let you hear the end of it.

“Please-” Your brother cried as he threw himself onto your sofa, “You haven’t had a boyfriend in ages. The last one was, what was his name?”

You rolled your eyes, “Chet?”

“Chet Robbins! Chet the safe bet!”

“Chet the safe bet? Did you make that up?”

David smiled, very proudly, “I did! Just now actually, because it's true! Chet, the business student, trust fund child, frat boy. Why not date a drummer?”

“Because I like stability David,”

“[Name] date the drummer. I beg, I plead. He was so into you, he gave you his number!”

“If you will recall, I have his number. Because his number is the apartment number and that's what I called for the lessons. I also refuse to date your teacher’s best friend. How would I approach that, ‘Hi Brian! You’re teaching my brother an instrument, I did your friend last night. How have you been?’”

David gasped in mock disgust, “I never said a word about doing him. You foul wench, I simply implied dinner. Maybe seeing one of his shows.”

“Oh my dear, when you date a drummer it's never just dinner.” You snorted.

“Well, when I date a drummer it will be. Only dinner, no foul play.”

“Please, please keep that attitude for the rest of your life.”

It was quiet as he mulled over your words. You started off, putting away your bag and coat when he abruptly sat up, “You don’t dislike the drummer, in fact, it has nothing to do with him. You don’t like my teacher’s best friend, you like my teacher.” He grinned when your face lit up, “Oh you do, you absolutely do! I’ve never seen you blush that hard.”

“You little twit,” You hissed, “If you say a word about this I will have your head. This stays between us and us only.”

David was sneaky, very sneaky. Your conversation had planted an idea in his head like a seed and every brief glance and soft smile you shared with his teacher was water. He was growing a downright devious plan, with you directly at the center of it.

David, after quietly looking over the house and picking up on Brian’s affinity for science fiction, had been the one to recommend you start reading George Orwell’s 1984. He had also purposely disappeared to the restroom when he caught sight of Brian eyeing the cover.

Brian carefully cleared his throat, “Do you read much Orwell?”

“Oh, Orwell? No, not really. I, um- I read The Road to Wigan Pier for a book club a while ago. Are you a fan?”

“Oh yes,” He smiled, leaning forwards, “I’ve read that, actually. I was in a band a few years back by the same name,”

You cocked your head, closing the book against your finger, “1984?”

“Yes, quite silly, I know. Never was much good at naming.”

“Roger said you’re in a band now, what's that called?”

His cheeks were beginning to pick up a soft pink again, “Um, Queen. Our singer named it-”

David sat back down, “Did I miss anything important?”

Brian looked away and you went back to your book. The only noise became the guitar residing between the two boys on the couch. David had learned enough to start on a song, I Walk the Line by Johnny Cash. It was recognizable enough to draw your attention, and it was lovely at first until it was all David played. When you returned home, when you visited your mother, he played it so much you had memorized the fingering to it.

It was at another lesson, several weeks later, when you had been left by your lonesome. David had gone to get a drink and Brian had run to retrieve something from his room. All alone and with nothing to tell you not to you settled into the couch with the guitar and tried at the song. It was choppy, a bit off-key, but mostly there.

“I didn’t know you played?” Brian’s voice was soft but you still jumped, shooting around to find him. Leaned against the back of the sofa he twirled a coin between his fingers, grinning down at you.

You swallowed, “I don’t, no, not really. Dave’s just played this so much I remembered how it looked.”

He propped his chin in his hand, “I think you could be quite good. Just, here-” He slipped the coin between his teeth to reach down, softly grasping your wrist, adjusting your placement on the neck. His hands were warm and it sent a shiver up your spine as he carefully moved your fingers, “That should do nicely, I trust you’ll do well with the right placement.” He was quiet for a moment, silently pondering something, “Friday night we have a show at about ten o’clock, say you come and maybe I could show you something on the guitar afterwards.”

You considered, “Where is it?”

“The Cameo, downtown London.”

“It sounds lovely, very, but I have to admit I’m not big on the downtown London clubs. I actually don’t know where that is. Although I do have a friend whos well versed with the scene, I could ask her to show me there?”

“Wonderful,” He grinned, “It's a date!” Something else David wouldn’t let go of. Usually, all he talked about was the music he learned but now he was enthralled with the prospect of a new romantic venture. You had been informed on exactly how to dress, what makeup to wear, what drink to order. He also picked the exact shade of blue for you to paint your nails.

You called Marilla after your mother picked David up and she had agreed, enthusiastically, to show you to the club. When she arrived you had been called ‘prudish’ and were forbidden to dress yourself. In the very back of your closet was a floral dress you’d bought for a wedding reception that never happened. It was supposed to be returned but you just hadn’t gotten around to it.

“It doesn’t scream rock n’ roll,” She inspected the green fabric under the kitchen light, “But anyone can look like Twiggy with enough eyeshadow so it’ll have to do. You should invest in club clothes, you might have to if anything goes with this guitar player.” Her eyebrows wagged.

You rolled your eyes, taking the dress from her, “Hush, you’re just as bad as David.”

“Your brother?” Marilla snorted, “What's he got to do with this?”

“He's an insufferable little shit, that's what-” You pushed off your top, “At first he tried to get me with the guitar player’s flatmate but when that didn’t work he really pushed Brian and I,”

Marilla was amused, far more amused than you, “He's a cunning thing, I’ve always liked him. Oh boy, now I really want to see your guitarist, Brian was it?”

The club pulsed, dull lights glaring down against everything. It was smokey and smelled of weed and whiskey. The band onstage was far too loud and you clung to Marilla’s hand as she pulled you up to the bar.

“What do you want?” She practically had to yell for you to hear but it went through you, you couldn’t think with all the noise and lights. She sighed and patted your hand, “A Moscow mule and a Roy Roger’s please.” She shouted at the bartender, “It's alright babes, no alcohol, just fancy cherry coke.” You nodded and accepted the drink, taking a tentative sip as you scanned the crowd. The band onstage had seemed to conclude their set but it didn’t make things any quieter. It was overwhelming really, moreso as Marilla started to pull you up to the front.

“Come on, it's almost ten. Your boy’ll be up next!” She settled in front of the stage, rooting you to the spot next to her.

Brian’s flatmate came out, twirling a drumstick between his fingers and he was met with loud cheers. Marilla whooped, waving big up at him. He was followed by the bass player, Brian, and the singer. They were all enthralling, and you were enraptured. The boys on stage looked ethereal, in flowy tops and sparkly makeup. The frontman was clad in glittery jewelry and the bass player wore platform boots. Their music drew you in and eased your nerves about how crowded the club was. The last song had a guitar solo and as he played Brian’s eyes met yours. A rose of warmth bloomed into your cheeks and he grinned, fingering at the chords.

Marilla, immune to none, elbowed you in the ribs, “That's him?!”

You nodded, “It is,”

“Damn girlie! Good for you! But for the record, I think I like the drummer,”

“His name is Roger. If you come backstage with me you can meet him.”

She grinned, “I’m so proud of you, getting connections!” As they finished Roger flung one of his drumsticks into the crowd. You flinched as Marilla’s hand shot out. She squawked as she caught it, quickly tucking it into her pants and taking your hand, pulling you towards the back lounge. She pushed at the thin curtain to the side, slipping in.

It was quieter and you watched people in glamorous outfits dally about. A redhead in hot pants dropped onto the shabby leather sofa, passing glass bottles of something to both the drummer and bassist. The singer was swirling what you could only assume to be a cosmopolitan. He looked up, catching sight of you and Marilla, both looking a bit lost.

“Hello, come come!” The singer waved you over and Marilla practically dragged you.

“You are spectacular!” She raved, “All of you, magical!” She tugged the stick out of her waistband and made her way to the drummer.

You cleared your throat, “You really are amazing, you have a lovely voice.”

The brunette smiled, “Thank you! I’m Freddie by the way, our charming drummer is Roger. The lovely John plays bass and Brian should be around here somewhere, he plays the guitar.”

“It's nice to meet you, Freddie, I’m [Name]. I was actually looking for Brian,” You twiddled with your fingers, looking down, “He asked to meet here tonight. You wouldn’t happen to know where he is would you?”

“You know, he may have popped to the kitchen. I’ll show you,” Freddie stood up. He seemed to catch your hesitation, glancing back to Marilla, “I’ll keep an eye on her. Roggie really is no harm, he plays much bigger than he actually is, I don’t think he could hurt a soul. Not an undeserving one at least.” He started towards the kitchen with you in tow.

Aforementioned kitchen was small and shockingly clean. Your guitarist sat on the counter with a glass of water.

Brian seemed to be in his own world until Freddie caught his attention, “Someone’s been looking for you, my dear,”

Brian looked up, “[Name]! Hello, I’m so glad you came!” He slid off the counter setting his drink down, “Did you bring your friend?”

“I did, she’s become infatuated with Roger though.”

He grinned, “Oh Rog seems to do that to some people.”

“Well, I'll leave you to it!” Freddie called, waving and walking back to the lounge.

When the door shut Brian began to fiddle with the bottom of his shirt, “I left my guitar in the other room, I could go and grab it if you’d still like to learn that song.” He studied your face, “But you don’t look comfortable, are you alright?”

“Yes, this just isn’t really my scene. I’m not used to the noise and everything, there's a lot of people here.”

He smiled sympathetically, “I know, it's crowded. There's a nice little diner just down the road, we could walk there and talk if you’d like.”

You nodded, “Sure, that would be lovely.”

The air was crisp and it brought you back to reality from the club. Brian had lent you an extra sweater he had brought, it was warm but you had to roll the sleeves a few times. It was quiet as you walked, the occasional car rushing past. The sidewalk narrowed as you got closer to the strip of restaurants and you felt the back of Brian’s hand brush yours. You caught his fingers, lacing yours into them and nervously looking up. His expression mimicked yours, jittery and shy and totally taken.

“You look very pretty,” He murmured, thumbing over your knuckles, “That green looks very nice on you.”

You smiled, “Thank you, you look lovely as well.”

“Oh pish posh, this is just stage wear. But I’m glad you think it looks okay, Rog said I looked frumpy.”

You giggled, “Marilla, the one who brought me, called me prudish earlier.”

His laugh was soft, “Well, we can be fashion disappointments to our friends together,” He pulled open the door to MaryAnne’s Diner, holding it for you.

You were settled in a booth waiting for your order when Brian spoke, “David really has potential,”

“With the guitar? I’m not surprised, he's always been good at everything he tries. It's really quite annoying, how brilliant he is.”

“He seems so, a very nice kid. Does he live with you?”

“No no,” You smiled, “No he lives with our mum, he just sneaks out to see me more than he should. I don’t know if I ever thanked you for letting me sit in, I know it's not common practice. I just worry about him, he seems so much older than he actually is and I’m worried it’ll get him in trouble one day.”

Brian patted your hand, “Oh darling, I understand. I really don’t mind at all, I’m glad I met you.”

“I’m glad I’ve met you as well.”

He had walked you home, contently explaining the story behind one of the constellations he saw.

He stalled at the door, keeping your hand in his, “So I suppose I’ll see you next week?”

“Absolutely,”

He moved one hand to push a piece of hair out of your face, “Well until then I suppose,”

You leaned up, closing in on him. You felt his hot breath against your cheeks, “Is this okay?”

He nodded, “More than,” And pulled you into him.

He was as gentle in kissing you as he was in everything else, carefully nudging his nose against yours. His mouth was warm and he stroked your mandible, easing deeper into the kiss. He relished in the taste of maraschino cherry from the Roy Roger’s you’d had earlier. You gasped softly as he nipped at your bottom lip, pulling away. The lipgloss he had been wearing was smeared against the corner of your mouth and he carefully wiped at it with his thumb.

David would never let you hear the end of this either.

#Brian May #brian may imagine #brian may x reader #Queen #queen imagine #queen x reader #bohemian rhapsody #bohemian rhapsody imagines #queen #lennie writes

209 notes · View notes