i asked the IT guy what the hell went wrong with my computer yesterday and he really said "i could tell you but you probably wouldn't understand" 🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃🙃 OH I AM STILL SO PISSED OFF ABOUT IT!!!!!!!!!!!

Looks Better on You

Pairing: Lumberjack!Steve Rogers x Female Reader Summary: Steve can't stop thinking about how good you look in his shirts. Word Count: Over 1.6k Warnings: Mentions of explicit sexual content, referenced vaginal sex (wrap it before you tap it), a bit of fluff, talks of having a family, slight feels (it's me), Steve Rogers (he’s a warning, okay?). A/N: Last "planned" writing for January belongs to Beefcake and Tippy. ❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Moodboard by yours truly, banner by the wonderful @sgt-seabass and divider by the talented @firefly-graphics. Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Please reblog or comment as it means the world!

Steve loves seeing you in his shirts.

After he received the serum, his blood ran warmer than he could remember. Cool weather or a chill in the air didn't bother him the way it used to. You, on the other hand, couldn't stand being cold. If you set your foot on the floor in the morning and it wasn't warm enough for your liking, you immediately went back under the covers.

He bought you a pair of slippers to leave by your side of the bed to help.

Not that he minded when you used the weather or chill in the cabin as an excuse to cuddle.

"Please, warm me up."

He happily obliged every time.

It was the first time he saw you in his shirt though that he was done for.

One early morning after his run, you were in the kitchen making breakfast. The crackling bacon beckoned to him as he went to greet you. The food was long forgotten when he walked in and took in the sight of you. Your bare legs were on display as you faced the stove, giving him the chance to admire the beauty in front of him. In fact, the only thing that seemed to cover you at all was a red and blue flannel shirt.

His flannel shirt.

You smiled over your shoulder before you began to plate the bacon. "Good timing. Just needs to cool off," you said.

He almost asked you to repeat yourself when you went to the end of the counter. You didn't even bother buttoning the shirt all the way. He never understood the appeal of seeing someone else in his clothes until now. It was like he was touching you without his hands being on you.

A visible claim for others to know who you belonged to, but thankfully it was the two of you in your home.

Being both jealous and in awe of a piece of fabric was something he could add to his list of things he never thought would happen.

"That's mine," he said in a low voice.

"Yeah, I know it's yours," you teased, holding up his coffee mug. "I'm just filling it up."

He had something he wanted to fill up, too.

"Not that. My shirt," he said, his fingers twitching when you looked yourself over.

"Oh, yeah. Sorry. It was just laying there and it smelled good and I-"

"Are you wearing anything under it?" he asked, moving forward until he trapped you between his wide frame and the counter.

You smiled as you carefully set the mug down. "Why don't you check?" you suggested, gripping his hand and guiding it between your legs. He groaned when his fingers brushed your folds. "Oops. I must've forgotten," you said, widening your stance so he could explore.

Breakfast was cold that day since he was too busy fucking you over the counter. And on top of the kitchen table, which you commented later how incredibly sturdy it is. And in your bed.

All with his shirt on.

At some point your breasts spilled free, giving him the opportunity to watch them bounce as you eagerly took his thrusts. He appreciated every inch of your body the way you deserved and wondered how his other shirts would look on you in the throes of passion. Part of him felt guilty because you wore his shirt to cover up and now he couldn't keep his hands off of you. Or his cock out of you.

"That's it," you panted once he gave you a breather. "I'm stealing all of your shirts from now on."

"Doesn't stealing imply that you won't give them back?" he asked, kissing your warm forehead.

Between the sex and his body being close, you wouldn't get cold anytime soon.

"They're mine now," you smiled, shutting your eyes as you curled up against him. "Sorry."

"I guess that's fair," he said, touching your back through the flannel. "They look better on you anyway."

After that, it became a normal thing to leave his shirts around for you.

On the colder days when he had to get to work before you, he made sure to leave a warm shirt for you to put on when you got out of bed. Other days he had a tendency to leave a sweatshirt on the back of your desk chair. It was adorable how you pushed the sleeves up before you focused on writing. T-shirts were easy access when you exercised, even though you had a drawer full of shirts suitable for working out.

"I thought you only liked to exercise in the bedroom."

"That's my favorite kind of exercise, but I need to do more than that to keep up with you, Beefcake."

You didn't look at all ashamed when he later caught you spritzing his cologne in the air and walking through it.

"What?" you shrugged as you put the bottle down. "It didn't smell enough like you, okay?"

"I'm not judging," he chuckled.

Why would he? The fact that you wanted to keep wearing his clothes, with his scent on them, made him happy. Especially when he went away for missions, unsure of when he'd be back. Coming home to you in one of his shirts was the best kind of welcome.

He made sure to get another bottle of that cologne so you wouldn't run out.

He also decided early on that he liked his flannel shirts on you the most. Maybe it was because it was the first shirt of his he saw you in. It could have also been because it reminded him of the man he is now, the lumberjack who made a home with you. If he looked at you just right, he could imagine a child in your arms wearing a matching shirt.

Someone to make your home even brighter.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked one day, narrowing your eyes as he leaned your hip against the bedroom door frame.

"Like what?" he asked innocently.

"Like you want to ravage me."

"I always want to ravage you."

He smirked when you sharply inhaled. It was the truth. He couldn't help that you made him an insatiable man. It elated him that you felt the same way.

"Hmm. You're thinking about something else."

"Still thinking about you," he said truthfully.

You set your hands on your hips and he did his best not to let his eyes drift down. The fabric of the worn red and blue top brushed your thighs as you tapped your right foot, like you sometimes did when you tried to get a read on him. He didn't give anything away.

"It's quiet today," you said as you let your arms drop. He wasn't expecting you to say that. "Sometimes I wonder…"

"Wonder what?" he asked, his blue eyes watching as you tugged at the hem of the shirt.

"What it would be like if the cabin wasn't so quiet, aside from the noises we make," you said with a coy smile. A hand went to your stomach as you sat on the edge of the bed. "Laughter, even crying. The pitter patter of little feet."

His heart pounded when you gave him a loving smile.

"Is that what you were thinking about?" you asked.

He pushed himself off the door frame and took light steps toward you. He hadn't given away what he was thinking, but he should've known you'd figure it out. The two of you were in tune with each other.

"You a mind reader?" he teased, towering over you as you leaned back on the mattress.

"No," you answered, reaching up to frame his face. "You've just had this tiny, but different, smile on your face lately when I wear one of your shirts. And you keep looking at my stomach or resting your hand on it."

"I didn't think I was being obvious," he said sheepishly.

"I'm pretty sure you started baby-proofing the place without realizing in between working and keeping me in bed," you teased, brushing your lips against his.

"But if you don't want that, I understand."

"You think I don't?" you asked sadly.

"I just don't want you to feel like you have to take a certain path in life because of someone else."

Family was something he wanted, but didn't think he'd have after everything. You changed how he envisioned his future. You changed everything.

He refused to put any pressure on you though.

What kind of man would I be if I asked that of you?

"Steve," you sighed with a slow shake of your head. "I'm pretty sure you changed my path in life the moment you set foot on my property. I had my work and I loved it, but you made me want more than that. So whatever it is that we want, we'll figure it out together."

He kissed you again, wishing he could put into words how you changed him for the better. How you gave him hope. He'd continue to show you through his actions.

"But I'm not having twenty kids," you smiled when he moved his kisses along your jaw.

"No, sweetheart. How about ten?" he joked.

"Two. That way the number of kids doesn't outweigh the adults," you teased as he moved you to the center of the bed. "And should that day come that we decide to make a family, you may have to buy some bigger shirts for me."

"I'll buy you as many shirts as you want," he smiled, making you gasp when he settled over you. "Like I said, they look better on you anyway."

You think he can convince you to have ten? Bahaha. Love and thanks for reading. ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Steve Rogers Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

that night [harry styles]

A best friends to something else type of story. Exactly 7.8k (literally 7800 words which is scary) and you know I can’t write that much without SMUT. This takes place during a sleepover at the end of quarantine! Maybe tell me what you thought? :) (I promise I’ll edit this soon!)

-

“Show me yer phone, love” Harry groaned, sending you the coldest of death stares. The night started off as usual, you two just watching some old documentaries, paying more or less attention to them as you mostly just sat and talked. Things took a turn when your phone started blowing up with messages. Being the kind of person who always replies in an instant, suspicions arose when you decided to completely ignore the texts. Although Harry never violated your privacy and never pushed you for answers you didn’t want to give, when you started laughing and got nervous about whoever it was that kept texting you, he figured it would be worth it to push your buttons.

“I said no” you repeated yourself, standing up from the couch. There were two main reasons you didn’t want to talk about the person texting you, and these 2 reasons were also probably the only two things in the world you wouldn’t want to discuss with him.

“Why no’?” he asked offended, following you into the kitchen, like a small child begging his parents to let him have his way, “What can be tha’ bad? I wouldn’t have asked any questions if yeh hadn’t been so off about it from the start”

You turned and looked at him dead in the eye, contemplating what to say next. He beat you to it.

“Is it a guy? Have you been seein’ someone?” Harry asked as he walked over to you, completely ignoring your personal space. “Is tha’ it? I don’t wanna read yeh texts, just tell me yes or no, and I’ll drop it. Promise”

You took a deep breath. “Yes, it’s a guy” you said calmly, “But we’re not seeing each other”

“Then why does he keep texting yeh like crazy?”

“Crazy…” you sighed, tapping your chin, “Good description”

“Come on, Y/n” Harry whined, tapping your shoulder as he walked past you and towards the refrigerator, “Just tell me, I’m really curious, crazy how?”

“Promise you’re not gonna freak out?” you laughed, grabbing whatever he was pulling out of the fridge and handing to you. You stopped paying attention after three cups of pudding and one bottle of wine.

“When have I ever freaked out?” he joked, mocking himself. He was usually a calm person, more composed than anyone you’ve ever met, and he less than rarely got angry. And from those times when he did lose his temper, 90% of cases were mild and he was still calmer than anyone else in that kind of situation, but that 10% left was pure terror. When his friends told you years ago that nothing’s scarier than Harry when he was truly mad, you didn’t quite believe them. You had to see for yourself to accept it. It only happened a few times in almost 5 years, but you always still did everything you could to keep him from going off again.

“Ok, so” you started speaking as you rummaged around your kitchen for bowls and glasses, “His name is Marcus and we actually met on Tinder-”

“Wait a second” he cut you off, “During the lock down?”

“Oh, no. It happened before all of this madness. Around january, I think”

It was obvious he was already bothered by how this conversation started, but he did his best to control himself so you wouldn’t decide to drop it. “Pretty serious, then, huh?” he said eventually.

“Literally the opposite” you laughed, pouring the pudding into the bowl, “We saw each other once-” and it hurt you to say the following part but you did it nonetheless, “hooked up, and didn’t talk since”

Pure annoyance was readable on his features. “Apparently haven’t talked until now?”

“Yeah, I mean-” you cringed, “He texted me like a week or so ago and we didn’t - vibe, and he got weird, so like I muted the conversation for 7 days because I didn’t want him to bother me anymore but he got so defensive it was funny so I didn’t really wanna block him”

“Yeh muted the guy a week ago and he still keeps trying?” Harry asked, completely taken aback, “Can’t blame him, but still, tha’s a bit much”

“It is” you nodded in agreement, and motioned for him to open the bottle of wine for you.

“He must have liked yeh a lot” he mumbled, twisting the corkscrew into the top of the bottle, “Maybe you two had a really great time, and he-”

“Harry” you stopped him, leaning your head to the side, “I know you’re squeezing information out of me right now, but I honestly don’t think you want to hear more of this”

“Ok” he sighed defeated, “I’m gonna stop pushin’ yeh. Thanks for tellin’ me tho. And sorry if I crossed any lines''

“You haven’t, H” you smiled, giving him a hug from behind. “It’s fine”

After gathering everything you had fixed up to take into the living room, the pudding and the wine, as you passed the threshold of the kitchen, you heard Harry speak up, traces of amusement audible in his voice. “But like… At least was the sex good?”

“You want me to answer that?” you chuckled, plopping down on the couch. “Do you seriously want me to answer that?”

“Yeah” Harry shrugged, smiling innocently.

“It was horrible” you said bluntly and watched his grin wilt away. “Probably the worst sex I’ve ever had. No, no, no.. Definitely the worst sex I have ever had in my entire life”

His mouth fell agape. “Seriously? Why?”

“Well, i got to his house… And you know, up until then everything was fine, like he seemed like a completely normal and fun guy while we texted but like, as soon as i got to his place he became really… I don’t even know how to put it, he was um.. Very clingy and weird and we talked for a bit but then when we went to his room he turned into literally the biggest asshole I met”

“What?” Harry exclaimed, “Tha’s not wha’ I expected”

“Exactly!” you laughed, “Neither did I!”

“Then wha’ happened?”

“I went down on him and he didn’t do the same because apparently he finds that gross? That’s what he told me but I didn’t wanna get into it because I went there to get dick so I was like let’s just fuck, and we did… We made out a bit, got him worked up again, and when we fucked I literally thought something was wrong with me, because he just.. I don’t know. Bumped into me and after he finished I was there like… What just happened?”

“Yeh were right when yeh said I didn’t wanna hear this”

“Told you” you giggled, grabbing your pudding and toying with your teaspoon.

“Jus’ stop using Tinder, please” Harry eventually shook his head.

“A girl has needs, ok?”

He was enraged and completely ignored your words, “And wha’ does he want from yeh now? He really thinks yeh’d see him again? Really?”

“I don’t even know what he’s been saying, honestly” you shrugged.

“Can I see?” 

“Can you like, read from the notification box? I don’t wanna leave him on seen”

Harry nodded in agreement and you gave him your phone. He pressed the lock button, the screen lit up, and it was instantly flooded with texts from him. Since you put the conversation on mute a week ago, you had no idea what he had been saying. It seemed that he didn’t appreciate your lack of interest and that he didn’t bother to hold back.

‘You pathetic whore, u really think ur gonna find someone better than me? U think ur so high and mighty and hot but  ur gonna die alone you bitch. Do u feel better about yourself if u juts ignore my texts???? Well good for fucking u-’ and Harry locked the phone, the screen going black.

“The fuck did I just read?” he questioned, his annoyance from earlier, now morphing into pure anger.

“You said you wanted to read” you shook your head.

“Why does he think he can talk to yeh like that?”

“I don’t honestly care” you sighed, “It’s not like I’ll ever see him again, so he can go and say anything he wants”

“‘S not how that works, darlin’” he said.

"Can we drop this, please" you sighed, unable to quite look in his direction, "I don't like this"

"Well-" Harry erupted and judging by the way his voice instantly died down, you could tell he almost lost control, "I don't fucking like it either, ok? But yeh shouldn't jus' accept tha'!"

"I wouldn't call it acceptance, H" you shook your head, discarding your bowl of pudding and jumping straight to the bottle of wine. "I told him I'm not interested, and I stopped replying. It's not acceptance... he just keeps trying"

"But for some reason yeh're letting him talk t' yeh like tha'"

"Well-" you shrugged, and took a big gulp of red wine, "He talks by himself"

"Y/n…" Harry called, his voice soft and you could tell that there was anger hidden somewhere deep inside, but you still appreciated the fact that he managed to keep it contained. He extended his arm, his fingers brushing against the side of your thigh. It was a soft, delicate touch, that made every hair on your body stand up. He did it to get your attention and boy, did it work. Instantly, your eyes snapped to his, and were met with something you did not see coming. "Can I say something?" he asked cautiously, his eyes shining with genuine worry.

"You're making this into something much more significant than it actually is"

"I'll drop it" he eventually nodded, "If you promise me something"

"What?"

"If anythin' similar to this happens again, tell me"

"And what are you gonna do about it?" you giggled, trying to lighten the mood. As you kept staring into his green eyes, you brought the wine bottle up to your lips, took a long sip, and then handed it to him.

He took the bottle out of your hands, seemingly not giving more than two shits about it. The warmth in his eyes accentuated as his eyebrows gathered into a concerned furrow, "Make sure it doesn't get to yeh"

"It doesn't" you smiled.

"Lemme make sure" 

"Ok, Harry" you laughed, "I promise you that the next time a guy from Tinder gets mad about me not reciprocating the feeling, and he starts sending me that kind of texts, I will tell you"

The sarcasm just flowed out of you, and he was not impressed.

"I meant in general, love"

"Any guy?" you taunted, "Not just from tinder?"

"Fucking put on tha’ movie" he shook his head, "I know yeh too well. Won't get anywhere until you get some wine in tha’ belly"

"That's your plan?" you laughed, "Get me drunk and make me spill all my secrets?"

"I never assumed you had any secrets, but yeah, now I wanna know those too" Harry grinned, throwing his arm around you and pulling you to his chest. Although this kind of intimacy was something you've been somewhat used to, tonight it was just a bit more difficult to bear. And it may all have been due to the way he mentioned he wouldn’t want anything to get to your head, and the way he said he’d make sure of it. Even though you weren’t truly clear how he’d do that and what exactly was going through his head, it was crystal clear how you’d have him do that.

But now was not the time. You glued your eyes to the TV screen, and begged your brain to focus on the movie in front of you and not whatever Harry was thinking about, mere inches away from you.

There had been something in the air that night, because neither of you managed to pay any kind of attention to the movie anymore. You talked, the conversation not going back to the previous topic, you laughed, gossiped like there was no tomorrow, and now it was almost 4am, and you and Harry were 3 bottles of wine in. Deciding to cut the alcohol before it was too late, you settled for water, as Harry went on to finish a weird story he once heard from a hippie touring the states in his van. He was completely smitten, his eyes shone with admiration for the old man. Harry spoke with words of great respect about a life he wished he could once live. It was only a matter of time until it would get to you.

“But,” you sighed, laying down and placing your head into his lap, “You really seem like the kind of guy to pack his bags and just leave. Like get a couple of friends or something, leave a note saying you’ll eventually be back, and just travel around the world”

“I kinda already do tha’ love” Harry laughed, double chin showing as he looked down at you.

“Not what I meant” you shook your head, “And you know it”

“Wha’ did yeh mean, then?”

He looked down at you, his hands finding their way into your hair as you contemplated how to put the words together. “I don’t know… Less social interaction-” you finally said, “Make it less about living the same songs in front of thousands of people, and more about living a completely new experience as you really get to know just a handful of people”

He didn’t look convinced. His dimples were showing, and a chuckle was threatening to escape his lips.

“That didn’t make any sense, did it?” you laughed.

“It did” Harry smiled, “Might have’ta resume this in tha’ morning, but i think i got the idea”

You pointed your finger to him, “Best”

“Me?” he grinned, grabbing your hand, “Oh, stop it!”

“Not you, your idea”

“Nice save, love”

You wanted to object and keep this topic going as the butterflies in your stomach started to riot, but just as you opened your mouth to speak, the sound of your phone receiving another text filled the air. In an instant, your eyes locked with Harry’s and you knew he wasn’t gonna let any of that shit slide. Not wanting to give him the chance to protest, you sprung up and leaned towards the coffee table, your fingers barely managing to brush against the side of your phone before Harry grabbed your waist and yanked you back, pressing you against the cushions of the sofa as he hovered above you.

The intimacy and urgency of this whole charade made your skin crawl, and you couldn’t help but let a few giggles escape, “What are you doing?” you laughed.

“Not lettin’ tha’ asshole ruin your night, love” Harry smirked, tilting your head so that you had to face him. 

“I’ll see the text in the morning and it will ruin my whole day” you played along, but as it turned out, you dug your own grave.

“Oh?” he grinned, “So it does get to you”

“No!” you belted, “That is not what I meant, Jesus harry”

“Come on, hon” 

His head tilted to the side, before he leaned down and nudged the tip of your nose with his. “Jus’ say the word”

That sent burning chills down your spine, and your cheeks couldn’t do anything but to comply and turn an erotic shade of pink.

“I’m not sure what to say” you mumbled, fighting against the urge to jump on him.

“I’m yer best friend, love-” he made a small pause, for dramatic effect, and just stared down at you while your blood boiled, “Lemme show yeh how good yeh can feel”

“I-”

He cut you off, obviously proud of himself, “I obviously wouldn’t have asked twice if I hadn’t felt you squeeze your thighs around me”

“Fuck, Harry-” you said, embarrassment rushing all over you as you threw your hands in the air.

He leaned down, and brushed his lips along your jaw, “Yeh could be screaming tha’ name”

Regaining your composure, you grabbed his chin and forced him to make eye contact once again, “What does this mean to you?”

“It doesn’t have t’ mean anything we don’t want it to” he nodded, “Just friends looking out of one another”

“Mhm..” you choked, “Yep”

“Tell me, and I’ll get off of you”

Your answer came a short second later. “Yeah, get off” you said sternly.

His features barely got a chance to show the disappointment that enveloped him, because as soon as the words left your mouth, you pushed yourself up. Excitement started showing on his face as you pushed yourself up. With a devilish smile on your lips, you grabbed the hem of his shirt; not giving him a chance to secure his balance on his knees before you pulled the material up his body. He clumsily shuffled out of it, his tattoos coming into full view.

“Is that a new one” you asked, pointing to his left shoulder.

To your surprise he took you seriously, and looked down, obviously confused, “Which one, love?”

“This one” you grinned, pushing yourself up and against his chest, this way, giving yourself a chance to press your lips to the base of his neck.

Harry’s whole body shivered under you as he let out a small chuckle. Instantly, his hands found your waist. Once your lips grazed his sensitive skin, the muscles of his neck relaxed as if under a spell and his head fell back. Harry’s fingers dug into your sides as your teeth sunk his flesh, sucking profusely. Having waited for this so many years, it felt all too real and completely unreal at the same time. There was a fire burning inside of you and the soft moans slipping past his lips were no help with taming it.

“Having fun?” Harry laughed, but his confidence and usual air of self control were shaking.

As a response, you bit into his ear lobe and delighted yourself with the whimpers of pleasure he didn’t even try to hide.

Although burning for it, you didn’t have it in you to go for his lips, so when he was the one to do it, all your radars went crazy. The way he grabbed your chin and pulled you closer, it was all you wished for. Years worth of pent up emotions dripped from your lips and onto his.

How ungrateful and inappropriate would it have been for you to beg for more and guide the situation in a different direction? Even if his gentleness made your knees weak, the heat between your legs begged for a less kissing and a lot more biting. 

It was when he pressed you down against him that made you forget about everything that held you back. His erection was rubbing against your thigh as you grinded down on him, and you couldn’t help but break the kiss and sink your teeth into his lower lip.

Harry threw his head back against your touch, and a proud smile lifted up the corners of your mouth.

“Come on” you moaned, kissing your way down to his ear, “Show me how you should treat a girl”

His fingers snuck into your hair and pulled your head back, forcing your eyes to meet his’, “Is it me? Or are yeh a bit more excited for this than you initially let on?”

Your eyes sparkled as you let out the fib, “It’s just you”

Grinning, he shook his head in mock approval, and secured you in his hold, before effortlessly spinning the two of you around. Now, a mess of limbs, you looked up at Harry with what could only be described as pure lust. And it all reflected on his features. His ridiculously messy curls framed his face perfectly, allowing his proud gaze to fuel your engines.

With all your might you wanted to let him take the lead and not show too much enthusiasm, but it felt next to impossible. Before you knew it, your hands were cupping his cheeks again, forcing his body flush against your own. He kissed you back with no hesitation, as if he too waited years for this to finally happen, as if this was his dumb way of confessing to you that he too, was head over heels for you. But that was a scenario that regardless of its likelihood, was sure to ruin your mood. 

So you pushed it aside, forced your mind to fall on standby, and instead, you concentrated on the way his hands explored every single inch of your body. When he broke the kiss, you wanted to protest, your tongue crying from the sudden loss of contact. But his lips traveled lower, kissing all the way over down your neck, along your collarbones, and across your chest. It was all aggravated and hungry, as if he couldn’t get enough. 

“Yeh good?” Harry asked, looking up at you, cheeks all flushed.

“Yep, yeah” you whispered, the weight of the moment turning your voice into a light chuckle. Breathless and innocent, you were on cloud nine, and all your struggles to keep that hidden were in vain.

Delicately, as only he could, Harry pushed your shirt over your head, leaving you exposed, a fact which sent a whole new wave of pleasure down your body. This gesture alone shook your whole world, but he wasn't wasting any time. You barely even got a chance to catch your breath before he lowered himself, and cupped your breasts into his palms. Your back arched in an instant, and when his warm lips connected to your skin, goosebumps propagated all over your whole body. As circled his lips and caught your nipple between his teeth, your mind went crazy, muscles sizzling with anticipation. A suggestive moan slipped from your throat, and you could tell it surely tickled his ego.

“Gettin’ there?” he questioned even if he already knew the answer.

You threw him half a shrug, tilting your head to the side and pressing your cheek to your shoulder.

“So fuckin’ cute, angel” Harry chuckled, shaking his head as he crawled up your body, “Why’re yeh so cute?”

“How would I know?” you blushed, playing along with his overly teasing approach, “You’re the one who sad it”

“Don’t know why I think yeh’re cute?”

You nodded no.

A small but sure fire lit up his features, and he knew it was on. He did maintain the eye contact for a while, but when he finally looked down at your body, nonchalantly staring at your chest, that was when your breath got caught in your throat. The pressure was building up, yet Harry kept pushing your buttons. 

In desperate need to pick up the pace, you nudged his chin with the back of your fingers, and when his eyes caught yours; you raised one eyebrow, motioning for him to continue. “Wha’ do yeh want me t’ tell yeh, love?” Harry grinned, leaning down to kiss your neck.

“Tell me what you like about me” you laughed, linking your fingers in his hair. While you laughed due to the amount of different emotions that coursed through you, Harry made it all the more difficult for you to keep it together. His kisses were light enough for you to feel the ounces of love that dripped from his lips, but carnal enough to keep you on your toes.

“I love everything about yeh” he murmured against your skin, his chain of passionate kisses crossing over to the other side of your neck, “I mean, wha’s there not t’ like?”

“Word” you giggled, your sarcasm coming in perfect contrast to the weakness his question brought to your knees.

“Fuckin’ love every inch” Harry said, having completely ignored your joke, “Every single part of yeh, yer body and god, yer mind”

His hands cupped the sides of your rib cage, as his lips traveled down your sternum. He seemed lost, completely absorbed. Every time he looked up at you, it was impossible not to notice how out of this world his eyes seemed. Glossy and dark, extravagant green looking to explore more of you. And those were only the times you managed to catch him staring. The pleasure this man provided surpassed the moaning level, he got you working hard not to scream in ecstasy, as his tongue ran laps around your nipples, and the way his lips sucked with that specific amount of pressure. It looked as if he already knew where all your buttons were, he acted as if he knew your body better than you did. And for you, that was a new experience, which would’ve already been too much, even without Harry involved. But seeing your fingers get lost in his absolutely perfect in a messy kind of way locks, as he treated your skin with such refined skill, you found yourself way too close to the edge.

In the high of the moment, probably following an unidentifiable stimulus, you found yourself concentrated on the way his palms felt against your skin. He held you in his arms as if you were the most precious thing he ever laid eyes on. And for some reason, that feeling alone had you skyrocketing.

It was when you moaned out loud, for the first time not holding back, that he finally decided to give you what he promised. 

“Yeh sure this is ok, angel, yeah?” he murmured, looking up at you. 

His light stubble tickled the lower side of your abdomen as his breath barely managed to reach your skin. 

“Yeah” you clumsily nodded, your words coated in fervid enthusiasm.

Something happened. Something clicked inside of him. You saw it in the way his eyes warmed up. For a second he didn’t move, instead he just took in everything that was happening. When he eventually pushed himself up, you expected him to help you or motion for you to undress, but he didn’t. Harry lowered himself on top of you, pressing his chest against your own.

His fingers locked themselves against your chin, “I really wanna fucking do this right for yeh”

His confession took you aback. The seriousness in this tone was not something you anticipated. At first, he was the one who made it all seem like a meaningless game, yet right now, it seemed as though he fell into his own trap. 

All you could do was nod. Nod in approval, nod as a sign for him to keep going. As a promise that it was all ok. This attitude of his was not something you signed up for. Even if it looked like the beginning of what you always wanted, it also felt a little bit too sudden.

“Come here” you cooed, cupping his cheeks in a loving manner.

In an instant, he leaned into your touch, his skin burning against your damp palms. For the x-th time that evening, his lips melted onto yours, but something felt different. But you kept going, allowed the moment to carry you further without giving yourself the burden of dictating a direction. 

And seconds passed, and with each one, his touch became more and more aggravated. You could feel his need, and you have loved to think that what you were feeling from him was love, but it was just too big of a step to take right now. Not too shortly after, the situation escalated towards the point you left off earlier. You let him take the lead, and he soon returned to his usual self.

Harry made his way down your body through a chain of lingering kisses, each one of them awakening yet another side of you. This time, you were given no time to prepare. His experienced hands grabbed your thighs, groping their way up to your hips. Although it was fairly fast, it felt like an eternity. You breathing picked up when his fingers hooked themselves into the waistband of your leggings, and without even thinking about it, you pushed yourself up, allowing him to take them off. 

Now, you hadn’t seen this coming, because if you had, you probably would have chosen to wear something less embarrassing than your Superman underwear. Your cheek heated up as if it was the first time a man had seen you naked, and all your insecurities washed over you. None of those thoughts crossed Harry’s mind though. 

He just smiled - a gesture whose roots you’d never know. 

Harry positioned himself between your legs, his fingers gingerly tracing up and down your outer thighs. “Really fucken gorgeous, yeh know tha’?”

His compliments have never been this hard to receive, “Shut up” you chuckled, rolling your eyes as you couldn't help but squirm under his stare.

“Wha’?” Harry grinned, leaning his head to the side as he let his teasing side take over, 

“Tha’ tinder fuckface never told yeh just how perfect yeh look?”

“This is still about him, huh?”

“It’s about yeh, love” Harry rolled his eyes, letting his nails graze your skin, “Always been about yeh, always will be”

With each word that let his mouth, he leaned down, lower and lower, until every inch of his body was pressing against your own. He dominated the moment, and you love it.

When he engulfed your lips into a kiss, his right hand traveled between your legs. That alone made your core vibrate, and knowing there was no way to hide your enthusiasm, made you smile.

You felt the back of his fingers trace up and down your opening, and his words confirmed your suspicions. He pulled away from your lips just enough so he could speak, but he was still too close for you to properly see his features - he was just a few literal inches away, “I can’t wait to taste yeh, doll”

The grin on his lips and the pride of his tone, had a visible effect on you. The hairs on your body stood up in anticipation, and you couldn’t help but arch your back and close your legs around him. You kissed him back, and this time, it was on.

As his tongue pushed past your lips, Harry’s hands lewdly traveled down your sides, caressing every inch of exposed skin they found in their way. You didn’t see the eagerness coming, but when he reached between your legs, the flimsy material of your underwear didn’t even begin to come in his way. He shoved his hand under your panties, his fingers instantly coming in contact with your opening.

It was solely the emotional value of the moment that made you nearly gasp. Harry took his sweet damn time, as if you needed any more foreplay. The pads of his fingers gingerly traced up and down your opening a few times, before coming back up again to rest against your clit. It was soft and easy at the beginning, but the feather light touch of his fingers started gaining more and more pressure as subtle circular movements started to form.

When you looked up at him, you were met with the mess of curls that had fallen onto his forehead as he had his head hanging low, with his eyes trained between your bodies. With a gentle nudge against his chin, you prompted him to look up. At first he seemed a bit disoriented, but a wicked grin shortly appeared on his lips. It made you smile.

He was the one to resume the kiss, making it gentle this time - in perfect contrast with the action of his fingers, as he slowly made his way past your folds. When the first finger went in, you curled the corners of your mouth in anticipation. It felt fine, but it was just the tip of the iceberg and you knew it. Eager for more, you allowed your teeth to lewdly sink into his lower lip, willing to show him you wanted more. 

With a grunt, Harry shuffled a bit, his knees bucking into your hips. The deep breath he released tickled your skin, but you weren’t going to let this go. As you forced your teeth just a bit deeper into his plush skin, Harry let his forehead fall against yours. 

His tongue neatly traced along your upper lip, and you thought it was in response to your actions. And this erroneous thought kept you from anticipating his next move. When Harry pushed one more finger in, your senses went mad, and the simple fact that he didn't give you too much time to adjust before he pushed a third finger in, rocked you completely. 

You moaned in return and arched your back.

"I got yeh, baby girl" he whispered softly, "Look at me, I got yeh, ok?"

After receiving an enthusiastic nod from you, Harry made his way down your body. This time, he swiftly shuffled to the side, pulling your legs together and riding you of the unnecessary piece of underwear you still had on.

Not waiting for him to take control, you spread your legs, and feasted on the carnal look he had in his eyes as he looked down at your body. He didn’t waste any time before finding the perfect spot between your legs. Your whole body shivered as he leaned his head to the side, his light stubble tickling its way down the inside of your thighs. 

And following the rough feeling of the still shy beard you didn’t think he was able to grow, when his soft lips brushed against your skin, you involuntarily clenched. You bucked your hips and your legs tried, but to no avail, to close the distance between one another. You wanted more - needed more. And he noticed it.

Looking down along your body, you could only see the top of his head. And his fingers, pressing into the skin of your legs. And the tip of his nose as he proceeded to tease you into oblivion with millions of kisses, each of them nothing less than heavenly, but still, nothing compared to what you knew was coming next. The only warning he gave you as a hurried grin, and it was nowhere near enough.

It was on. Elegantly, but with traces of dominance in his touch, and with two fingers, Harry spread your pussy wide open, his tongue lewdly slipping right inside you. The contact and the buildup made you gasp. Had you not been so over the moon and distracted already, you’d have heard him snicker in response to the sound you just made. But you were too caught up. You felt him on every inch of your body, and the signals your core were sending you, were not what you wanted.

You wanted this to last. To have him go at it, lapping at your core for hours. To feel his tongue wag until your senses went numb.It might have been the dry spell that was forced upon you as the pandemic overtook your life, or the timeless, painful crush you’ve had on him for years, but you were already on the edge.

Trying hard to make the moment last, you curled your pointer finger and shoved it into your mouth, biting down hard. Your back arched dangerously as your head flew back, but it all just worked in his favour. Your pleasure was building up, and the careful, experienced movement of Harry’s tongue against your clit was only gaining momentum.

“Yeh taste like fucking heaven but I think yeh already knew tha’” he said, for a second pulling away from your core and giving you a chance to catch your breath.

All you managed was a pathetic excuse of a nod, along with a shy roll of your eyes.

“None of tha’” Harry laughed, licking his lips, “Don’t care how close yeh are, ‘m not gonna stop until yeh moan my name, love”

“Jesus christ, Harry!” you panted, shaking your head.

He responded in a similar manner, and again, with no warning whatsoever, he went back in. This short break allowed you to regain your composure, even if it was just a tiny bit. Your excitement, although still there and just as consuming, was easier to control now. You felt his touch all throughout your body, his tongue tickling all your senses.

What brought you closer into the moment was the feeling of his hands, as he grabbed your thighs and pushed your legs up onto his shoulders. For whatever reason, this felt even more intimate, and as his fingers sank into your flesh, you felt your engines start up again.

The delicate flicks of his tongue were getting more and more aggravated by the second, and now it was close to impossible to keep calm. Sweaty palms gripping tirelessly into the cushions under you, your back under constant strain, your eyes squeezed shut - he had you entirely.

And as if that wasn’t enough, he went further. Harry pushed one finger inside of you, moving his lips up to fully concentrate on your clit. His tongue prepared you, got you all ready and wanting, and then, he wrapped his lips around your bundle of nerves and sucked - gently and with a minimal amount of pressure, but god-

“Fuck, Harry-” you called out. It was more of a cry, choked back in the depths of your throat, all breathy and muffled.

“Come on, angel” Harry whispered.

As you looked down, past your heaving chest, your eyes landed conveniently on the top of his head. Complete chaos - his unruly curls tickled the inside of your thighs, as his fingers dug into your flesh. The two rings he never takes off were sure to leave proud indents on your skin.

Harry sucked at your bundle of nerves, the eager touch of his tongue awakening absolutely every need inside your being. Add the experienced pumps of his fingers and the fact that this was Harry Styles and none other, and you were done.

With each passing second you started to lose more and more of the control you had on your body. Sweating nervously out of every pore of your body, you squirmed under his weight hoping you’d make the moment last.

“‘S good, love, isn’t it?” Harry smirked for just about a second, “I can see yeh, yeh’re a mess fo’ me”

“Fuck” you whined, covering your face with your right palm as your head tilted backwards, “Shut up”

“Oh!” Harry faked surprise, “Gettin’ cocky?”

As he spoke, Harry curled his fingers inside your pussy; maybe intentionally - maybe by chance, hitting all the right spots and making you moan out loud.

“I’ll take tha’ as an apology”

You scoffed.

Harry shook his head. When you looked down at him again, you caught him licking his lips. It was obvious he waited for you to catch him doing that.

Already at the edge of your self control, you curled your fingers into his hair, motioning for him to resume his work. He followed your lead without any complaints, and when his bottom teeth grazed your clit, even if it was light as a feather you lost it.

Your mind became numb, drunk on the pleasure he provided. Your eyes rolled back as you enjoyed every second of your high. Harry kept you spiraling, continuing to lap at your core as the muscles of your legs tensed uncontrollably around his frame.

“Holy fuck-” you breathed out, voice shaky and wounded.

He made sure to milk every ounce of pleasure out of your being, leaving you a heaving mess under his stare.

Harry pushed himself up, nonchalantly wiping his chin, his eyes not allowing yours to look away.

As you gathered yourself and worked on bringing your breathing back to normal, there was only one thought going on inside your head - that it would only be fair if you reciprocate the gesture. Thinking about it was enough to make your core buzz again, but you didn’t have it in you to bring it up, and instead hoped he’d show he wished things didn’t stop either.

But he didn’t.

However, you got to kiss him again. And no matter how badly you wanted to keep the atmosphere on fire, he had other plans. 

“Did I take good care of yeh?” Harry asked as he leaned down beside you. His hand found your cheek, keeping you in place for another longing kiss, “Did I do yeh right?”

You nodded against his lips, not willing to actually word the answer.

His chuckle made it clear that the point got through. And for a second it seemed as if the night wasn’t done. None of you was willing to pull away, and allowed the minutes to go by without a care in the world, lost in each other’s arms.

“Freakin’ love yeh, angel” Harry said.

It wasn’t the first time you’d hear this coming out of his mouth, but you couldn’t help but smile thinking this time it was meant in a different manner. You answered him by cuddling deeper into his chest, and that was a moment you wouldn’t have traded for the world.

And you fell asleep like that. No matter how big and luxurious your couch was, you still spent the night glued to one another. Harry felt every calm breath of yours on his skin and everytime he moved a bit to adjust his position, his hold tightened around you to make sure he wasn’t pushing you away.

After what was probably the best sleep you’d gotten in the whole year of 2020, morning came around. Actually it was lunch time, if we’re being generous. The sun was high up, proudly making its way into your living room, past the curtains to forgot to draw the other night.

When you awoke, Harry wasn’t there anymore. However, panic didn’t have the time to settle in as you heard movement coming from the kitchen, and the strong smell of coffee reached your nose in no time.

You got up from the couch, with herds of butterflies in your stomach. Harry’s words from last night still echoed in your head, and even now, with no alcohol in your system, they managed to bring goosebumps all over your skin.

“When did you get up?”

That was how you made your presence known.

Harry turned around with a smile on his face. He had a bag of avocados tucked under his arm, as he typed away on his phone. His undone pants were hanging onto his thighs for dear life, and the only other piece of fabric on his body was a thin, brown hair tie around his wrist. There were a few purple marks along his collar bones and his hair looked rougher than usual, things which deep down, shook you up a bit.

 “Wanted to take yeh out fo’ breakfast, but I gotta leave in like an hour, so I figured this should do”

“Yeah, yeah sure” you agreed, “It’s perfect”

“Would’ve done mo’, but Y/n, yeh have no food in this house”

You laughed, walking over to slump down into one of the chairs, “Didn’t get a chance to get any perishables”

“You got some” Harry chuckled, “You got weeks’ worth of everything you need to make guacamole and pancakes”

“I have no idea how that happened, those will spoil” you shook your head, “You can take some of them actually”

“Or I could just come over”

“Even better”

The food was ready in no time. Harry had everything done and set while you washed up a bit, and after that, you both sat down to eat. Minimal and light, but still, there was a weight in the pit of your stomach.

“About last night-” Harry began to say, but you tried to stop him.

“You don’t have to-”

“We kinda do, love” he smiled, “I need to apologise, angel”

You squinted your eyes, “For?”

“I don’t really have t’ apologise fo’ what I said because I meant every word” Harry slowly said, as if he has a hard time putting his thoughts together, “I jus’ wish I hadn’t said it like tha’ though”

“Like what?” you questioned, a bit lost.

“Like I had the right to say that kind of crap” he laughed. It was nervous laughter, like he was afraid of what was coming next, “I do fucking love yeh, but I shouldn’t have assumed you wanted to hear that”

“What are you talking about, I don’t understand” you groaned, growing a bit tired of the impatience he brought upon you.

“You’re my best friend, ok?” he sighed, “That’s all we are, Y/n, and that was not supposed to happen”

The food got lodged in your throat, and you felt like if you didn’t stand up, you’d no longer be able to breathe. “It was your idea” you scoffed.

Harry’s eyes followed your frame, but he remained seated, “I know”

“So what changed? If anything even changed. I don’t understand what the problem is. You regret we did what we did-”

“I don’t regret anything” Harry butted it.

“You said it was not supposed to happen!” you exclaimed, rolling your eyes as you walked over to the sink, just to make yourself useful and to stop just standing in front of him.

“The things I said to you-” he said sternly, pushing his chair back and throwing his hands into the air, “I shouldn’t have said those, ok? It doesn’t matter who meant what, I told you things that-”

“What did you tell me that’s bothering you so much?” you almost yelled, annoyance dripping out of your pores. You walked over to him, and he closed the distance by standing up.

“I-” Harry stuttered, playing with his hair to buy himself some more time. “All the-”

“What?” you pushed, “That you like everything about me? That’s what you regret saying? And what else?”

“God” he groaned, “I don’t regret saying tha’, it’s just tha’ it wasn’t my place to say it”

You fell silent.

“If I were you... I’d want to hear those things from someone that is more than just a friend to me” he confessed.

“And you can’t be that to me? More than a friend?”

After a few seconds of painful silence, realization hit him, “Y/n…”

He did reach out. He took a step towards you but you stepped back. The remorse in his tone was too painful to ignore. So you moved away from him and slowly made your way out of the kitchen.

“Y/n!” Harry called, following you.

“Just go”

“Please...”

“Please what?” you shook your head, but he didn’t have the words you needed to hear.

“I’m sorry”

“It’s fucking fine” you sighed, walking backwards towards your room, “Just show yourself out”

Because Hearts Get Broken - I Know That You’re Scared (Part 2/3)

Continuation of ‘Because Hearts Get Broken’ - see my masterlist for it :)

Synopsis: She’s trying to move on. He’s still hoping for a chance

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Reader

Genre: angsty, bruh, but with a sprinkle of fluff and a hopeful (??) ending

Warnings: swearing, emotionally distant mindset... can’t think of anything else, really. 

Word count: 3656

Heartbreak isn’t loud. Y/N doesn’t even know if it had a sound what it would be like. Like glass shattering against the ground? Or maybe like a book being ripped and shredded apart, memories of time spent together ruined. Or maybe it'd like the crackle of a fire, as it slowly but surely crept up and turned everything into charred remains before it became nothing but ash and was carried away by the winds.

        No one in her family talked about feelings. If they did all they received back was ‘suck it up. That’s life’. After that, it was time to move on. So, when she got together with probably the most open-hearted person in the world, it was almost laughable.

        Y/N had always been the friend others went for advice, relationship or not, but she herself never asked for one, simply because she didn’t wanna bother anyone. Not that she thought the others were bothers. It’s just having grown up in a household where emotions were basically suppressed, opening up was quite impossible. 

       Then came Harry. Perfect, impossible, loving, sweet, kind, ridiculously open Harry. God, she just wanted to punch him because no one should be that nice. 

        January 2nd, 2020 he’d called her up, having gotten Y/N’s number from Sarah (after ages of pleading, because as much as Sarah sometimes couldn’t handle drunk Y/N, she’d defend and protect her until the very last breath), and they set up a coffee date.

        Slowly but surely, they spent more and more time together and seeing as her job had her based in LA for a while, visiting Harry was no problem. Then the pandemic hit, and on March 18th the whole stay-at-home order was issued in California. 

        Y/N was in a panic. She was meant to leave LA in ten days, and the hotel her company was paying for had been paid until the 28th. With all flights getting rapidly cancelled, she was scrambling to get one, but even her firm was unable to get her a seat. That’s when Harry had called up, his tone a worried, urgent mess as to if Y/N was alright and what her plans were.

        Of course, him being him, he immediately offered her a place to stay.

        “We don’t even need to stay in the same room, there’s like five other guest rooms you can take up,” he tried to joke, and ease her tension.

        “Fuck, Harry, just rub it in how rich you are.” Y/N cackled, and when she heard him laugh in the background, her heart did that stupid fluttery thing she’d grown so used to. 

        It took a little persuasion from Harry’s side, and reassurance at least seven more times, that Y/N wouldn’t be intruding on his space, and he was more than happy to spend the quarantine with someone else, instead of being alone, and that in no way her taking over a room or two would limit him and his own artistic endeavours. So, apprehensively Y/N packed her suitcases, grabbed an uber, wearing a mask the whole time, and drove to Harry’s place.  

When Y/N saw the gated community and the palace he was living in, the inside of her cheek was practically bitten in half. They’d barely been together for three months, and now she was basically moving in with him, but given how it was either live with Harry in a fucking mansion or walk across the country to New York, she took the first option. 

        As much as Harry loved on her, pretty much shagging her brains out every possible second, and loving on her until her cheeks hurt from smiling, the anxiety about the whole situation never left.

Harry was worried about his mom and sister, Y/N was scared of what was happening in New York. So, when the state boarders opened, immediately, although reluctantly, she flew back to her apartment and her dying plants, but never forgetting to FaceTime with Harry. But they couldn't stay away long from one another.

        Which is why they decided, given how she was able to work from home now, and Harry could do so as well, they’d fly over to one another every two weeks, quarantine together for the next two weeks, and then fly to the other place. Her boss actually loved the idea that Y/N was so willing to go back and forth between the two cities, so all her flights were written off as business expenses, not to mention when she said she wouldn’t need a hotel, he was more than thrilled to let her be in LA whenever she wanted, as long as her work got done.

        It seemed funny to her now, that before Y/N couldn’t wait to get back to the sunny state of Cali. Now when she had to fly over (which was just a couple of times since the breakup), going through JFK security made her sweat, and landing was a vomit-inducing action. And the last time she’d gotten back to the home-base state, she’d actually thrown up, Harry’s last words ringing in her ears.

        It’d been three weeks since Sarah’s New Year party, and three weeks since she’d spoken to him although he still kept calling. Every morning she’d wake up to a couple of notifications of missed calls, and each time she’d listen to the messages; it was all the same – I miss your voice. And every time she’d listen to it, her thoughts were exactly the same. You could say it was almost pathetic as to how many times she’d listened to his albums, just to hear him sing. Almost like he used to do right before she fell asleep.

        But Y/N had no one else but herself to blame for it. She’d been the one to call it quits, she’d been the one who walked out of his apartment, and the one who decided she wouldn’t fight. 

        Now, she was sat by her small magazine table, documents spread out in front of her as if a tornado had rolled through, while an apple and cinnamon candle spread its delicious scent through the air. 

        Y/N would only admit it once because, well, the proof was all over the apartment, but she was very lazy when it came to taking away the Christmas décor. It made her feel warm and comfy. And it reminded her of Harry. How when she’d woken up after their first date, already in the new year, he still had colourful fairy lights strung across the curtain rods, giving everything a soft, cosy glow. 

        He’d also been the one who convinced her that a real Christmas tree was so much better than a plastic one. 

        “Yes, it’s a hassle,” he’d said through slurred words as they’d slinked away from the partying crowd after the countdown was done, and each of them had taken three shots of vodka. “But it’s so worth it. Smells like a fucking forest in your room. Like proper Christmas!”

        And although she’d spent this holiday season alone, Harry had been right. Just like he’d been right about Y/N.

        She tapped her pen against the glass surface and readjusted her position on the floor.

        “This is the periodic table, noble gases stable, halogens and alkali react aggressively,” Y/N hummed as she highlighted the incorrect parts of the paper in front of her. “Each period will see new outer shells, while electrons are added moving to the right.”

        Just as she was about to start off the second verse, her doorbell rang, and her stomach gurgled in response.

        “Ugh,” she groaned to herself. “Pasta come to fuckin’ mama.”

        But when she opened the door, she wasn’t greeted by the Uber Eats delivery man.

        “Harry.”

        Y/N was taken aback. She didn’t expect him to visit her, especially not so soon and especially to fly out to New York (as much as he was most likely there to do other stuff as well, her gut told her he was there for her). 

Sure, she hoped that one day they could be friends, if not acquaintances, he was too important of a person for her to lose completely from her life, but that was looking like five years into the future.

        “I bring gifts.” He raised his hand where her boxes of food hung in a paper bag. “Can I?”

        “Uh, yeah, of course!” She shook her head to clear it from the shock and allowed Harry to enter into the warmth of her apartment and escape from the cold January air.

        “I was on my way up when the delivery man came in, and I recognised by the boxes it was yours.” The smirk on Harry’s face was something Y/N loved to see, but usually, she liked to also wipe it away. Preferably with her own lips. 

        She let out a small scoff, not waiting to see if he followed inside, as she scurried to the adjacent kitchen and grabbed two plates, while he opened up the white cardboard containers and allowed the delicious smell of spaghetti Bolognese as well as a carbonara waft into the air. Y/N had wanted to eat the latter at some point during the night when the munchies hit, but she supposed Harry was probably hungry as well. “Maybe there’s someone else here, who likes Italian.”

        “Probably, but only you would order from the shittiest Italian restaurant just because they have pesto and parmesan bread.”

        “Hey!” She slapped his arm. “They’re not shit. They provide me with everything I need – calories, carbs and bread.”

        “What more does a person need?”

        “Exactly!”

        Both of them let out small chuckles and then settled down on her couch to dig into the meal. They ate in silence, and despite Y/N’s initial shock, it wasn’t uncomfortable. In fact, they were sitting pretty much shoulder to shoulder, as she watched Harry re-read the spread-out articles on the table and use her marker to tick some stuff that could use re-wording. He had a knack for words, after all.

        “I uh…” He wiped his mouth with one of the napkins provided by the diner before clasping his fingers together and looking at the woman sitting next to him, as she slowly set her empty plate on the small cupboard beside the sofa. “I was hoping we could talk.”

        Y/N hung her head. She should’ve known he wasn’t here to just check-in and have some dinner. “We already did. Twice might I add. What makes you think this time the ending will be different?”

        “Third times the charm?” Harry let out a little laugh, and she rolled her eyes. “Look, I didn’t wanna leave everything the way I did. I – I said some pretty shit things.”

        Y/N fiddled with her thumb. ‘I had,’ Harry’s words echoed in her head. ‘Only she didn’t trust that I loved her the same.’ “Nothing that was untrue though.”

        “See, that’s where I think both of us are wrong.”

        That was not what Y/N thought this conversation would be whatsoever.

        “I – “ He cleared his throat. “I know I said I didn’t think you trusted me that I loved you enough. I think you know I did – do.”

        If Y/N still had any food in her mouth she would’ve choked on it, as she bit back the rising lump in her throat, but instead of interrupting him, she let Harry continue. “And honestly, it’s not your fault that it fell apart, ‘s my fault too. I pushed you to do something, you didn’t want to, weren’t comfortable with, when you told me not to… just because I wanted to feel important, ‘nd because I wanted to get a role in your life you weren’t ready for yet. And I’m sorry for doing that. I should’ve never forced you.”

        “Harry…” Y/N was at a complete loss. “I – I don’t really know what to say.”

        He took her left hand in his and clasped it, finally able to properly say what'd been eating away at him. “During the New Year party, I didn’t go about it the right way. I was just – I was just still so hurt, and I wanted you to hurt the same because… it didn’t seem like you cared at all, which I know you did… I know you loved me, and…” He took in a deep breath. “I hope that you still do. At least enough to give us another chance. We can take it at your pace,” he instantly added, knowing how she’d react, expecting the sigh and the almost tired and resigned ‘Harry’ that escaped her lips. But he’d say everything on his mind. “You can take how long you need to feel like you can trust me with what’s bothering you.”

        “Harry,” she repeated, but it didn’t seem like he was about to stop.

        “But I think we can do it, and we can do it right this time. We know where we stand, we won't make the same mistakes.”

        Y/N’s hand came to rest against his cheek, and he practically melted, engulfing her palm with his as to not let her touch leave his skin for even a second. “Are you even listening to yourself?”

        “Look, I know, you’re scared, and the thing is, so am I. I don’t want it to end like that or end. Period. But I do want to try again.”

        And if nothing but to humour him Y/N asked, “And if it does end the same way?”

        “It won’t.” He was so sure of it, she had to laugh.

        “Harry, the big difference between us is – you like to talk about your feelings. You like to go through them and stuff. I don’t. I feel… icky when I even think about talking to someone of what I feel. We’re just too opposite.”

        “Opposites attract.”

        “No,” she pointed a finger at him, stifling her laughter, though Harry seemed not to be hiding his smile. “Do not use science against me.”

        He raised his hands as if in surrender. “I’m not, I’m just supporting my point with facts. Scientific facts, that you can’t argue against.”

        “I mean…” Y/N shrugged her shoulders. “I dunno… Maybe it was a good thing we ended it when we did. It was ten months – almost ten – amazing months, but… can you imagine if we’d gone so far as to think about moving in together, and then it fell apart? That would’ve been a whole different kind of a mess.”

        “Do you love me?”

        Y/N sighed, resting her cheek against the couch while she smoothed away his brown locks from his face. “Of course, I do. Don’t think there will be a time in my life I don’t.”

        “Then that’s all I need.”

         “Is that really enough for you?”

        “Yes.”

        And there was no lie in that single word. Did he want for Y/N to feel comfortable enough with him that she talked about whatever concerned her, however small? Of course. But he also wanted her to be comfortable enough to be herself. If that meant her keeping things to herself, and trusting Harry to support her decisions, it’d be enough.

        Her Y/E/C eyes hadn’t left his green ones, and they only widened as he leaned forwards and pressed his forehead to hers.

        “Haz…”

        Fuck, how he’d missed her calling him that. It wasn’t an exclusive nickname by any means, but when it came from Y/N’s mouth, it was the sweetest sound in the universe.

        He was her Haz when he broke a plate, he was her Haz when she threw her head back as pleasure exploded through her body, he was her Haz when he took her hand in his to quell her anxiety, and he was her Haz when he gave her tissues as they watched a movie, and she couldn’t help but cry each time a dog or cat died (or a dragon, but he was a sobbing mess as well because ‘Dragonheart’ messed with them both).

        His lips were so close, and just as they skimmed over her own, Y/N’s phone rang making her physically spring back, eyes like saucers.

        “S – Sorry,” she stammered, scrambling to find the annoying device between the cushions. It was Sarah’s name that lit up her screen.

        “Hey, what’s up?” Y/N started, voice trembling and shaky. God, when had she suddenly gone so out of breath? And why was her head so dizzy, as if she’d just gotten off a rollercoaster?

        “Yeah, he’s here,” she replied, eyeing Harry. “Yeah, just a sec,” and Y/N handed him her phone with a quiet ‘why’s your phone always dead?’

        ‘Didn’t know it died’, he said, but that was untrue. He’d turned it off so this sort of a situation wouldn’t happen; so a call or text wouldn’t interrupt him at the most critical moment. He had to give the universe a proper talk once he was done.

        “ ‘Ello?” 

        Seconds of silence passed, and Y/N didn’t like how weird it was, so she took the empty plates and put them in the sink to soak.

        “Now?”

        She could see the frustration rise in Harry as his forehead creased, and he let a hand rake through his hair. “Fuck’s sake… yeah, I’ll be there in ten. ‘S alright,” he sighed. “Not your fault Sarah. Tell Jeff not to worry, and that I’m not dead.”

        With that, he pressed the red button and ended the call, drumming his fingers against the screen. God, he really didn’t want to leave. Not now. Not after he’d been so close.

        “Uh, work?” Y/N asked, arms crossed in front of her as if she was protecting herself from the answer. 

        “Yeah, sorry. I uh a meeting from tomorrow got rescheduled for tonight, like right now because there was some sort of an emergency from the label’s side."

        “ ‘S alright, I get it. Showbiz never stops.” Y/N motioned to the door. “I’ll walk you out.”

        There were a couple of times in his life Harry wanted to give himself a beating. Once when he was six and Gemma had told on him after he’d broken a favourite vase of their mothers, he decided to get revenge and destroy her favourite plushie. He’d never forget the tears Gem had cried, and how absolutely heartbroken she’d sounded. He vowed although he was the little brother, to never ever let anyone hurt her like that, and if someone did, they’d meet their maker sooner rather than later.

        The second time was when he was still a teenager, One Direction on the rise, and it had gotten to his head just a little bit more than it should’ve. He’d gotten really messed up at a party (which Harry shouldn’t have even been at). The disappointment on his mother’s face as she scolded him through FaceTime was gut-wrenching enough to make him promise to always know the limit.

        And Harry guessed this was the third time.

        He could’ve said no to the meeting. Jeff was there and so was Sarah and Mitch. The three of them could handle it for him. It’s not like he would mind much whatever they came up with if it had given him the time to settle things with Y/N. 

        “It was great to see you, Harry.” She brought him out from the thoughts as she unlocked the door and opened it for him, bringing her jumper sleeves over her palms to hide from the cold outside air. “Really. I – I missed you, and honestly, I’m glad we got to talk. I uh well, take care. And say hi to Sarah from me please.”

        “I – “ he took hold of Y/N’s wrist before she could turn away. “I’m holding a small concert in a week. Here in uh in New York. It’s for charity… I want you to come.”

        “I umm… I’ll have to check if I’m free, but yeah. I will. Thank you.”

        “ ‘S no problem… Sarah missed you like crazy now that you’re not in LA as often… ‘n yeah. Anyway. I’ll put your name on the guest list, so just bring some ID, and they’ll let you backstage.”

        “Okay,” she whispered and gave him a small, genuine smile. “Thank you. I’ll really try to come.”

        “Yeah.”

        And he was going to go without doing anything else. Harry truly was. But as he released her wrist, going to the stairs, he gave Y/N one last glance back, and it was like his feet had a mind of their own, as they carried him back to where she stood by the still open door, grabbed her by the waist and pressed his lips to hers. 

        He expected Y/N to push him away, but to his very huge delight, she didn’t. Instead, her fingers wove through his hair and her legs almost on instinct rose so he could take her by the thighs, wrap them around his middle and press her against the doorway. 

        The groan that Harry swallowed from Y/N only ignited the fire that’d been burning ever since he met her, but it wasn’t the destructive kind, like the ones that leave nothing but charcoal behind. It was warm. Safe. Like the light of a fairy light. Like the embrace of home.

        “Come to the show,” he muttered against Y/N’s lips, as they broke apart, and he set her down on the ground, not letting go until he was sure she was steady on her feet. “I’ll wait for you.”

        With that, he left because if he didn’t, he’d make sure Y/N would be unable to walk for a week.

        And Y/N watched him retreat while her brain fought with her heart.

        What was it he’d sung in ‘Golden’, as he’d twirled her in the sea of bodies and glitter a little bit more than a year ago? ‘Loving is the antidote?’ 

        Maybe love was the antidote to her fear.

        She closed the door.

        And smiled.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Everything tags: @lumelgy @palaiasaurus64 @supernaturalbaesduh @breezy1415 @crazy--me @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @sea040561 @staryeyedgirl @deathbyarabbit @s-c-a-r-e-d-po-t-t-e-r @reblogger-not-a-blogger @m-a-t-91 @dalilx @i-need-a-hero-i-need-a-loki @maladaptive-ninja-returns @averyrogers83 @in-the-end-im-still-trash @gallifreyansass @dewy-biitch @avxgers @unlikelygalaxygiver @magicwithaknife @ollyoxenfrees @bnhvrdy @tvwhoresblog @celebsimagines @thatkindofgurl @sj-thefan @teenwolflover28 @lestersglitterglue @im-squished

Harry Styles tags: @sarcasticallywitty15​ @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​

A/N: I’ve been listening to ‘Fine Line’, ‘The Periodic Table Song’, ‘Welcome to the Christmas Parade’ (Welcome to the Black Parade mix with All I Want For Christmas) and ‘Rasputin’ Boney M remix exclusively... I feel like a complete crackhead... :D

Decided to tag also those who wanted a part 2 but didn’t necessarily ask to be tagged :)

P.S. I guess there will be a part 3???

P.S.S. if you wanna be added to a tag list drop me a message :)

tiny fingers, tiny toes. - a.i. blurb

description: dad!sos angst mixed with a happy ending.

word count: 1.1k

warnings: details of miscarriages

w/n: hii angels it’s been a while! but here’s a little piece i wrote at the beginning of quarantine, and probably one of the first pieces of fanfic i’ve ever written! i hope y’all enjoy, and i apologize for any medical inconsistencies; i am not a medical student or doctor, so please feel free to correct me on anything! 

taglist: @spicycal​ @castaway-cashton​ @irwinkitten​ @n-ctarinenga​ @notinthesameguey​ @blackbutterfliescal​ @ashtonsos​ @loveroflrh​ @bestyearssos​ @treatallwithkindness​ @bestyearslftv​ @another-lonely-heart​

****

Turbulent was a scary accurate word for the last 4 years of your life. 

Ever since you started dating Ashton in 2016, the two of you dreamed of a family together. While the numbers always eluded you, you both knew you just wanted to start with one baby and just go from there. Within a year of being together you got pregnant the first time, an accident that had you and Ashton over the moon; however, joy quickly turned to sorrow at the 12 week ultrasound, the heartbeat no longer detectable. You have shoved that memory far back into your brain but the image of you and Ashton crying on the table together will forever be burned into your skull. 

When 2017 came around you had recovered, a shiny new rock on your finger to match your new last name. It didn’t take long to find out you were pregnant again, a radiant smile on your face as the two of you went to see your OB together a couple of weeks later. Your OB was hopeful and so were you, until he couldn’t find the baby in the womb. You saw him visibly pale and compose himself, quietly turning off the machine as he looked at the two of you and explained an ectopic pregnancy. Quickly that became the second saddest day of your life as you learned the pregnancy had to be terminated for your health and safety, you and Ashton quickly agreeing as you once again cried together. 

Over the next year or so you stopped trying, still enjoying each other sexually but using protection; neither of you had given up hope for the family of your dreams, but the pain of losing two babies was too great to actively try. 2018 came and went, the two of you just enjoying married life and finding a new home together, designating a spare room as a baby room to keep your hope burning; the room sat empty up until November of 2019, another happy accident showing up in your belly. This time, however, excitement was replaced with worry, the two of you walking on eggshells every day of the pregnancy. In fact, no one knew you were pregnant until January of 2020, the bump appearing on your figure exposing the secret the two of you had kept so well. 

Now, at the 6 month mark, you were laying on the couch in the living room, your bump bigger than you ever could have imagined it being as you watched Tiger King on Netflix. Your worry was still there; your risk was far from over as your OB would say, your appointments much closer together than that of a normal pregnancy as he carefully watched your baby grow. The hope that once burned in you was now clouded with a mix of emotions that had you on the edge of your seat every single day. 

You had partially zoned out while watching your documentary, your fingers trailing over your bare belly as you tried to pay attention to all the chaos on your screen. However, that focus was quickly broken when you felt something...unusual in your belly. Frozen in place you waited, feeling the sensation again when you gently poked the soft skin. Your free hand flew to your face, a sob being stifled by your hand as you covered your mouth.

You tried so hard to stay quiet but the shift in the air alerted your husband even from across the house, the dark haired man pausing what he was doing when he felt it. 

“Ashton!” He heard, your voice muffled by the walls of his music room but still loud enough to get his attention. Ash scrambled up from the floor and practically ran to you as you now sat up on the couch, tears spilling down your cheeks. 

“I’m here,” he said sweetly, a mix of worry and dread clouding his face as he knelt beside you. “Are you okay? What’s going on?” 

He took in your face and searched it for answers, his eyes finally landing on the smile that had appeared on your lips. 

“The baby-” you started, your voice thick. “I think I can feel it kicking.” 

Ashton immediately looked down at the bump, tears springing to his eyes as he looked back up at you. “You can?” 

You nodded, taking his hand and gently placing it on your belly. Immediately he could feel the movement, the baby doing a little dance inside the belly. The feeling was like nothing either of you had ever experienced, the moment almost overwhelming as you wiped at your eyes with your hands. “Our littlest love is saying hello.” 

Ashton smiled, the tears moving from his eyes to his cheeks as he pressed a kiss to the belly. “Hi, my little dancer,” he said softly, leaning his forehead against the bump. You laughed at the nickname, your hands on either side of your belly as he continued. “Daddy loves you so much, you know that?” 

You watched as Ashton kept his face against the bump, laughing a bit as you saw a tiny hand or foot create a bulge for a second. “I think our little one is trying to cheer you up, my love.” 

Ashton laughed, kissing the spot where the bulge appeared. “Don’t you worry, little one, I’ll be holding your hand soon, okay? Just be good for mama.” 

You couldn’t help but laugh again, the joy of the moment taking over as you watched your husband talk to your child. “I love you, Ashton,” you said softly, the man looking up at you at the sound of your voice. 

He smiled. “I love you more.” 

For the rest of your pregnancy Ashton stuck by your side more than he already did, pulling more than his fair share of the weight as you got closer to your due date. The two of you were peacefully sleeping when you went into labor and your husband sprung up immediately, taking you through breathing exercises as he waddled you out to the car. With the dawn of a new day came the cries of your precious (and very healthy) baby girl, the perfect mixture of the two of you being cleaned up and placed on your chest. When the chaos calmed down you looked at Ashton and signed the birth certificate, letting a tear spill out as you got to write down your baby’s name for the first time. 

Within a few hours Ashton’s phone rang, a FaceTime notification popping up as he grinned wildly. Once accepted, his three best friends popped into the frame as they all crowded around for the first look. 

“Boys, there’s someone I’d like you to meet…” he said, turning his camera around to face you and your daughter. “You already know my wife, but I’d like to introduce you to Riley Hope Irwin.”

The Lovestruck~Chapter 20

(10 January)

You woke up a little early than usual, don't know if you were too happy or too impatient to see Baekhyun but not only you, even he couldn't sleep last night feeling beyond happy, while his friends didn't stop teasing him after he told them about it.

Getting up with a smile, you did your morning routine and greeted your parents with a smile and your brother too who got scared by your sweet behavior as you weren't really a morning person but they didn't know the reason behind.

Arriving at the college, you knew your departments were far so you wouldn't get to see him right now. Smiling, you were walking inside but to your surprise Baekhyun was standing at the gate while some girls were smiling or squealing secretly.

You hesitantly walked towards him and a smile crept on his face as he looked at you causing you smile back shyly.

He held out his hand. "Let's go."

You nodded holding his hand as you both walked inside while hearing whispers and gasps around you. At first you felt uneasy getting the attention since you're not used to it but as he squeezed your hand smiling reassuringly, you relaxed and kept walking until you were infront of your department building.

"What-whats going on?!" You heard your bestfriend's loud voice behind you as she stood infront of you with her eyes almost popping out seeing your clasped hands.

Baekhyun chuckled at her funny reaction before looking back at you and caressed your hair making your heart flutter. "I'll see you later."

You nodded as he walked away and then you felt your shoulders being held by your bestfriend and she leaned close to you.

"Y/n. Details. Now."

You gulped and narrated her everthing happened yesterday and in return you got a loud squeal from her and earn some stares.

"Stop being so loud!" You whisper-yelled and she nodded smiling sheepishly.

"I'm just so happy! My one and only bestie who has been single until now, is finally dating the campus handsome senior." She smiled widely and you gave her a boring look for exaggerating too much.

"So? What did you two do?" She leaned close to you wriggling her eyes teasingly.

You gasped loudly and slapped her arm. "What the hell! We just started dating! What are you saying?!"

You walked ahead with red cheeks and your bestfriend behind you who kept teasing until you reached your classroom.

As your class ended, you were taking your belongings when you got a notification in your phone and checked it to see it was from Baekhyun.

Baekhyun: Come to the music room.

You tilted your head confused before a head leaned in to your phone which belonged to your bestfriend and you instantly hid your phone.

"Secretive huh? Who's is it? You're boyfriend?" She teased grinning smugly and you rolled you eyes before walking out with her.

You walked down the hallway to the music room while looking here and there as you've never been here. Opening the door, carefully you peeked your head inside to see no one and entered inside with slow steps.

You gaped seeing the room filled with different instruments, there was a piano placed a little further from where you were standing.

"BOO!"

You jumped startled by the loud voice before looking back to see Baekhyun laughing and you glared at him.

"You scared the hell out of me!" You whined calming your heart while hitting his arm lightly and he giggled again before reaching out to squish your cheeks.

"You are so cute~" He cooed pinching your cheeks and your hand went to grab his wrists trying to pull away.

"Not my cheeks!"

"Why? You don't know how much I wanted to do this!" He pinched a little and let go before booping your nose as he smiled scrunching his nose.

You rubbed you cheeks shooting a playful glare at him but it faded when he held out a rose to you.

"For me?"

"No, for that guitar over there." He pointed with his chin and you bit your lip smiling sheepishly for asking such question.

"Of course, it's for my Coffee bean." He smiled cutely as you took it with a thank you while smiling before blushing as he called you my coffee bean.

You snapped out masking a frown. "You won't stop calling me that, right?"

"Never. From now on, you are gonna receive these every day from me. Only me. Don't you dare take from anyone else." He warned faking a stern and you suppressed your giggle as he looked too cute.

"What if a kid gives me a flower?"

He hummed thinking and his lips turned pouty which you have noticed before. "We'll think about it."

You rolled your eyes still smiling. "By the way, why did you called me?"

"I wanted to see you."

"You saw me an hour ago."

He hummed nodding. "I wanted to see you again."

You rolled your eyes sighing before roaming your eyes around the room. "I have heard you all hang out here but what do you do here?"

"Nothing much, just play instruments or just have fun."

Your eyes lit up. "Do you play too? What instrument?"

"You look interested. Well, I can piano, do want me to show you?" He asked walking to the piano and sat there.

You stood there lost in staring at his side profile as he was busy looking at the piano keyboard and he looked so handsome even just sitting there.

"If you keep staring at me like this, I won't be able to play."

You snapped out widening your eyes before looking away embarrassed and heard his chuckle then he started playing a melody while humming.

Hello, you came to me

Giving me your shy scent

In my hazy dream

You were shining, dazzling

With a fluttering heart, without knowing

I went to you, step by step

And I stayed by your side

A smile crept on your face with your pounding against your chest listening to him. His voice was so captivating and soothing and before you knew it, you were standing infront of him. He opened his eyes to locked with yours and kept singing without looking away.

My heart melts at your smile

When our eyes meet

My heart pounds

Oh, remember my smile in your heart

Think about it

several times a day

Oh words I want to say you to

You're beautiful

He finished the song but both of your were too lost in staring at eachother to notice until he accidentally pressed the key causing you both snap out.

You cleared your throat before looking at him amazed. "You were amazing! Your voice is so beautiful."

"Really?" He smiled shyly looking down and you noticed his ear turning red. Was he blushing?

"How about you? Do you sing too?" He changed the topic immediately and you shook your head vigorously.

"I'm a bathroom singer though." You mumbled and he looked at you confused as he couldn't catch it and you chuckled. "If you heard me singing, you'd faint."

"Is it that good?" He raised his eyebrows teasingly and you could sense the sarcasm in voice causing you roll your eyes.

Before you reply him, the door opened revealing his friends and noticing you two, Sehun, Jongin and Chanyeol grinned smugly.

"Lovebirds spotted." Sehun commented and Baekhyun rolled his eyes standing up while you felt shy suddenly.

"Finally, our Baekhyunee isn't single now." Jongdae said walking towards you both. "Junior Y/n, it's the first time he's having a girlfriend so take care of him."

You looked at Baekhyun surprised by the fact that it's his first relationship even though he's popular and Baekhyun motioned Jongdae to keep quiet.

"Ah, but he had a fat crush on-mmhh-" Chanyeol got shut up by Baekhyun as he palmed his mouth with a glare and looked back at you nervously.

You smiled at them before a notification popped up and checked it too see, it was from Ria saying the next class is going to start in five minutes.

"Uh, I have to go, I have a class." You told them before looking at Baekhyun who nodded. "Then bye."

As you were about to walk away, a hand caught your wrist and you turned to see Baekhyun smiling lightly. "Let's go to Café together."

"Okay." You smiled and noticed the boys giving you teasing smile making you feel shy and giving them a nervous smile, you walked out.

"How will I get used to this?" You clutched your chest before walking away quickly.

***

Later, in the Cafeteria, you had lunch with them and by this time the whole college got to know about you and Baekhyun dating but thankfully you didn't heard or got any rude comments.

As Baekhyun said, he waited for you outside and you both left for Café. As you both arrived, Rose's eyes were wide as open window when she saw you holding hands and you found it funny as her and Ria's reactions were same.

"You both-How? When?"

You sighed before Baekhyun began to tell her but with a exaggeration as how he waited for ages for you to acknowledge his feelings.

You slapped his arm. "Why are you lying? It was just one day mostly and I-"

He smirked. "My charm worked."

"Go change." You pushed him towards the kitchen and walked away laughing.

"Oh, Y/n, you're glowing." She smiled and your hands automatically cupped your cheeks feeling the warmth.

"I'm so happy for you two! You know I have always shipped you two and it's sailing."

You laughed as she sounded like a fangirl. Well, you weren't less than a fangirl though.

You started working but it was a little different than usual. You stealing glances at him or him bumping his shoulder with your lightly on purpose and then smiling casually like nothing happened, or then your fingers brushing accidentally erupting butterflies in your stomach and leaving your body on fire.

You wanted to hide somewhere because you kept feeling shy.

As you took the tray to serve it to the table and took a step but got blocked by him as he also took a step. You tried to walk past him but he blocked you again and you took a brief glance at him to see him smiling playfully.

"No flirting on my watch!" Rose whisper-yelled and you squinted your eyes at him before nudging him aside and walked away embarrassed while he rubbed the back of his neck grinning sheepishly at Rose.

You walked towards the table where two girls were sitting and staring at someone. Aproaching them, you saw their gaze was on the counter or say who was standing at the counter.

You placed their drinks giving them a tight smile before walking away but they stopped you.

"Hey, could you help us get that guy's number?" She politely asked pointing at Baekhyun and you took a deep breath before looking at her.

"Actually, he's taken." You forced a smile and they nodded understanding before you walked away smiling proud.

"What happened?" Baekhyun asked as he noticed your smile and you shook your head muttering nothing before feeling your phone buzzed in your pocket.

Fishing it out to check, it was from Liam.

Liam: Can we talk? I'm outside.

You looked outside to see him standing with his head low before you looked at Baekhyun and pushed your phone infront of him.

He looked at you confused before reading the message and looked outside then back to you. "Are you asking for my permission?"

You chuckled. "No, I just wanted to let you know."

He smiled pinching your cheek before motioning you to go outside and asking Rose, you went outside.

Liam kept tapping his foot nervously thinking if you would come or just ignored his text but he also knew you aren't that kind of person and that made him confirmed when you walked out.

"Hey." He greeted a little awkwardly and you nodded.

"I... I wanted to apologize about yesterday. I'm sorry I shouldn't have done that, my mom has been shoving these things in my mind about you and I just felt so stressed but couldn't even say anything. After what you said, I gave it a thought and realized how wrong I was and its like someone knocked sense into me. "

"I never saw you in that way and just like you said you are more like a sister to me but I was too occupied by mom's words to notice. Thank you and sorry again and I do mean it."

You smiled. "It's okay, I forgive you. Mistakes happen but you realized it then it's good."

He smiled and then looked behind your shoulder and you turned to see Baekhyun coming out.

"I'll let you two talk." You smiled at them before walking in.

Baekhyun turned to him and stood still with his hands in his pockets and Liam rubbed the back of his neck.

"I'm sorry for being a jerk yesterday."

"It's okay if you know it." Baekhyun chuckled and Liam rolled his eyes at his sarcastic remark before Baekhyun spoke. "But I should also thank you."

Thankful to him because if he hadn't acted like that then you wouldn't be his girlfriend today.

Liam shot him a perplexed look and noticed his smile. "Is something going on between you two?"

"You see, I have never seen her upset before and yesterday she was angry and that too, for you. I guess she really cares for you so I hope you treat her well because you've got a gem for yourself."

Baekhyun smiled at his words which did nothing but made him happier and looking back at you through the mirror wall, he saw you laughing with Rose which made him smile. "I know."

Liam walked away from there and Baekhyun came in smiling before aproaching you. "You sure are popular with guys."

"Huh?"

"Thank god, you're my girlfriend." He muttered which you couldn't catch and that left you more confused.

Rose closed the Café and left while you both were standing beside eachother. You were waiting for your brother while Baekhyun was waiting with you.

It was snowing again and you were enjoying it while gazing but then Baekhyun instantly stood infront of you causing you to back away in reflex as you looked at him blinking confusingly.

"Your nose has turned red." He spoke staring at you intently and you sniffled.

"Oh, it's just cold."

He nodded before leaning in and you backed away again in reflex as your back hit the wall behind you making him chuckle at your nervousness.

"I won't do anything." His lips curved upwards as he leaned in more. "Not until you ask me to."

Your eyes widened and before you could say anything, he pecked your nose and backed away like nothing happened.

You stood there stunned and soon heat reached up to your face. Your nose which was red by the cold, now was red because of the warmth, either way you didn't felt cold now.

"Are you blushing?" He tried to peek at your face and you turned your head to the side cupping your cheeks.

"No, I'm not." Your cheeks were burning and Baekhyun giggled trying to peek again which made you whine.

"Noona!" You flinched and instantly pushed Baekhyun away gently and stood straight until Daniel was infront of you.

"Hyung-"

"Let's go!" You linked your arms with his and made him turned around and began to walk away before he could utter anything.

"Reach safely." You waved at him a little before walking away with your brother who was still confused.

Baekhyun silently laughed, shaking his head. "Gosh, she's so cute!"

_______________

@wooya1224 @buttercupbbh @jddcfc-blog @usernameloaa

Selfish Pt.7 - Sheriff of Nottingham x Reader (Robin Hood 2018)

@wltz-bby​ @happyskywhale​ #mendotagsquad

@themadtarkantaur​ - Thank you for your patience 💙💜

Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3 / Part 4 / Part 5 / Part 6

Author’s Note: Welcome back! It’s been a while! The last time I wrote for Sheriff was that *chef’s kiss* unrepeatable masterpiece Young God.  The last time we saw these two in this series was January 13th... So yeah, overdue doesn’t even really cover it. BUT! We’re back with our Norse Shield Maiden and she’s no longer a third person reader insert! From this part we’re jumping right into 2nd person. 

TBH, it feels so good to put a banner back up there - it’s been way too long!

Disclaimer: Robin Hood has nothing to do with me / a lot of this series is now probably going to be shaped by conversations I’ve had with @mendelskrull​ / lyrics not mine

Premise: The time has finally come for you to be married, and for him to show you off to the world. Your marriage may come with rules and responsibilities, but promises power and influence to enact your own Agenda... 

Words: 8452

Warnings: Slight swears / Sheriff’s past is a regularly recurring theme (don’t wanna give it an abuse TW tag, It’s a little subtler this round) /  

______

Don't ever say your lonely Just lay your problems on me And i'll be waiting there for you The stars can be so blinding When you get tired of fighting You know the one you can look to I know its been a long night but now I'm here it's alright I don't mind walking in your shoes We'll take each step together, til you come back to center You know that i know the real you And when the vision you have gets blurry You don't have to worry i'll be your eyes That's the least i can cause when i fell You pulled me through So you know that I'll carry you, i'll carry you, i'll carry you So you know that I'll carry you, i'll carry you, i'll carry you Like you've been running for hours and can't catch your breath The demons are screaming so loud in your head Your tired you're broken you're cut and you're bruised But nothings to heavy just hold on, i'll carry you

---

This wasn’t really the wedding you had envisioned. You’d watched many friends of yours, and even you eldest brother, marry. Yet even the smallest weddings back home didn’t involve only four people.

When the Sheriff had asked you if you would let him be yours, you thought it might be a city-wide affair, perhaps even his jurisdiction wide affair. It wasn’t. It was you and he and Tuck in a room, with Marcus to witness, and a contract that said you were married. You wondered if official ink to parchment would really have the Sheriff changing his ways, or if it would all be the same still.

The day before you had gone to the Friar in the strictest confidence: “Well, Y/N, all I can really tell you is he’s not been to confessional since the last time you saw him. And I swear on it now, that wasn’t to do with infidelity.” “Then what?!” Although Wil has already told you this, you thought hearing from someone who didn’t literally spin rhetoric for a living might set things straight. Tuck seemed to indicate to Nottingham as a whole, “What with the crusades still raging so far away people are getting anxious. They want answers he doesn’t have... he needs you.” Tuck took your shoulders gently, “He needs you more than he realises he does, in fact our Sheriff will need all the supposed he can get.” “Do you think I should marry him?” “Do you have a choice? He and your father made an agreement... I don’t see a way out of this that doesn’t end in you going home; unless that’s what you aim to do?” Tuck looked concerned for a minute. He himself wasn’t ready to lose your influence on the Sheriff. “No...” It was quiet and unsure, but you knew that running away would help nothing. You’d already given yourself to him, and Wil was trying... you knew he was trying. But was trying enough? You thought about the cross-cross of scars on his back and the way that he acted in Church... about the kind of woman it would take to handle that. About what Wil must have thought of you to tell you all that he had. Not like a man who didn’t care. He’d given you control of Nottingham’s defences. He didn’t ACT like someone who wanted you to be the good obedient silent wife by his side, useful only to bare him children. Wil knew that’s not what he would be getting out of you as it was, not with your Norse heritage. If he was using you for your skills... then at least he was giving you freedom and something you wanted, that you actually enjoyed. You didn’t have to keep yourself trapped in the palace all day every day. You shook your head. “I can’t turn my back on him now.” You would have come so far, and for what? You were here to marry him. Perhaps when that was fulfilled you would know a different man. Your parents always said everything is different when you’re married... but you weren’t sure there was ever any indication it was positive. Still, as you stood beside him and Tuck read out some verses for you to repeat – in all honesty you had no idea what you were saying, just that they sounded vaguely like vows – you couldn’t help but feel the nervous knots in your stomach. This wasn’t a real marriage; heck it wasn’t even a real wedding. But you were convincing yourself that it was one. This certificate would tell the Church you were married. It’d tell The King you were married… and your family… But that wasn’t what was really happening. The Sheriff was fulfilling a contractual obligation. He’d made your father a promise, and Wil was making good on that. You on the other hand weren’t even sure anything would change. But you hoped against hope that it would… That he would love you, exactly as he had done before. The fact that it wasn’t a ‘real’ wedding also explained why Askel wasn’t present, although you supposed that he would go mad knowing that you’d done this in relative secrecy. You were also aware of what he’d report back to your father, and you weren’t sure you wanted that eventuality either. It didn’t last long and there were no rings. Yet there was also no hesitation in the Sheriff’s signature as he flowed the quill neatly across the parchment, before handing it to you with a sweet smile. A smile that made your heart skip, and you shivered as his hand touched yours; and then you thought if you hesitated… what would that mean? How would Wil react to such a thing? You didn’t want to hurt him; he’d been through enough… But you were signing away your life here. Potentially your freedom too, although you doubted it. Why would he give you so much only to take it away now? The quill scratched across the parchment with your own name – which gave you your own pause. Did you get a title now? Did you take his name? Did it feel right for either in such a strange setting. You looked to Marcus – and the look on his face. How excited he was – it surprised you, and coupled with how eagerly he took the quill from you to witness, you found yourself smiling again. You took a deep breath; this was the start of your real journey. The prospect, the very inference, of being married to him carried with it responsibility. You were determined to live up to it. Askel wasn’t just mad. He was outraged, and you were glad your new husband was attending to official duties when he caught you. Even gladder that no one else in the palace would have had as good a grip on Norse as you, considering the insults that were being traded: “-ARE YOU AN IDIOT!?! HOW COULD YOU JUST GO AND GET MARRIED!?! HOW CAN YOU JUST SWEAR YOURSELF TO A GOD LIKE THEIRS!?!” “THAT’S WHAT I’M HERE FOR!! THAT’S WHAT OUR FATHER AGREED TO!” “If he KNEW what he’d agreed to, you wouldn’t have been getting married. Why can’t he give you a REAL wedding? What, he doesn’t want all of Nottingham there?! Or the whole jurisdiction lining the streets-!? That’s how it SHOULD be!!” “Well maybe we will!!” “That’s a load of shit – you don’t even know what you’ve got yourself into, Y/N! You should have come to ME!” “So you could tell me NO!? So you could go to our father-!?! Wil is opening the trade ways, I’ve seen the official notifications for the beginnings of our people trading here!” Another tick in the box for the Sheriff, as that was also a part of the deal made; “Why are you acting like this-!?! Like my feelings don’t matter-!?” Your brother’s eyes narrowed, it was a cheap shot, and you both knew it. To Askel the way you felt about the situation was the only thing that mattered at all; “WHY!? Why would you do it!?” “BECAUSE I LOVE HIM!” That felt weird to say, it wasn’t even a sentence you had to think about. And it hit you like a ton of bricks. Love? Did you? To say it in such a way? You swallowed hard and knew fear had crossed your face, flickering in your eyes. You weren’t sure Askel could see passed his own blind rage. “I don’t CARE if you love him. Does he love you!?” It wasn’t a question you could answer.

 *** You no longer had a room. You had a husband. And an ‘our’ room. (For the record, your brother was not happy. But managed to hold his tongue.) The space in actuality was minimal; a bed, and a desk that you’d noted before, a mirror, and wardrobe space, (cupboards and drawers of varying sizes but all the same colour and wood style.) a few chests and a modesty screen. Minimalist, but everything matched. The crest of Nottingham stood out in blue and grey, hanging above his bed; cross and three crowns. Which meant moving your own things in here wasn’t exactly hard; you weren’t lacking for room. But you wanted to make sure that nothing disturbed the aesthetic he’d worked so hard to attain. You spent a lot of time standing in the doorway and thinking hard, and you must have looked it. Wil stayed with you, working from here instead of the usual room you found him in. “Y/N, darling, if you stand there all day you’ll start growing roots…” He shuffled through papers as he crossed the room, and you enjoyed the amused little smile on his face. “I just want to make sure that I don’t ruin your good work.” He scoffed, turning those blue eyes from his work to you, “These are your chambers too, now, do with them what you will.” Wil placed his papers down and strolled to you, taking you in his arms, “You will, if anything, make it a home.” “You say that, Sheriff, but I am well aware of safe spaces. And I wish to make sure yours still IS one.” No matter what happened between you now, knowing what you knew he’d already been through your only wish was to make sure it never happened again. Wil moved his hands to frame your face, his unreadable – eyes delicate; “You know what I think?” Your lips parted but you didn’t answer, not by the look in his eyes, the feeling of his touch. “You think too much.” The Sheriff knew you were about to protest that, so immediately moved to kiss you; you wouldn’t deny him that. You hadn’t had a wedding night, per se, kissing him like this was as good as either of you had given. In fact you were a little impartial to sharing a bed with him at all. You had done it before, and you didn’t want his impression to be that you hadn’t enjoyed it. But you were cautious. He was your husband as your equal, and you weren’t going to do this any other way. Wil’s lips left yours and he pulled you back tighter to him, resting his head on yours; “Please, I want you to make this whatever you want. Don’t worry about me.” He’d failed to realise that was the only thing you were going to do. But the Sheriff chuckled, “I think I need some redecorating!” You did it slowly, and everything you did you asked for his opinion on. But you worked hard, and got through all of your work quickly just so you could get back to fix something up and surprise him. It was one of the things you loved most – the smile on his face as you eagerly waited for him to spot what you’d changed. Your rounds got easier, and splitting them between Marcus, Askel and yourself made it easier. In fact you always made it a competition, who could complete their round and get back to the palace first. Which, was usually you; before that Town Hall meeting. The Sheriff introduced you out of the blue, but not like an afterthought. And he smiled, he genuinely smiled and sounded happy. A whisper ran through the crowd that was excited – a change from the disgruntled kind you’d heard many a time before. Some of them likely had already seen you in the mines, and as you picked out Will and Marian you couldn’t help your beaming smile. The only people who didn’t seem happy with this marriage announcement were the Lords. You were already cautious of them from your previous meetings, when he’d let you sit in on them (now you had a real job you had less time to do such things); but now you simply dared them to come between the two of you. Although you had to admit in your head the thought of running your sword, or shooting an arrow, through some of them didn’t seem like such a bad idea. Because of the Town Hall many people liked stopping you and your horse to talk to you. At first it was sweet; the way they would welcome you to the city and shower you with compliments. But then it became ‘Can you just ask the Sheriff’, ‘Could you just tell the Sheriff’ ‘This is urgent!’ and you realised that you had to remember all of these things on top of your general running around. Not always easy. Today you came back with ribbons & flowers in your hair, and Marcus and Askel had been in hysterics (on top of having waited for you for over an hour). This was the work of little girls downtown, and you weren’t about to stop them – Eyhamel hadn’t escaped either, for his troubles, and they ran through his mane and tail. “Just because they aren’t giving you flowers for protecting the city.” “Do they know that’s what you’re doing?” Marcus grinned, “I think they just use you as a messenger.” “Well, I don’t mind that either-!” “You think he listens to what you tell him?” You shrugged, dismounting and kissing Eyha’s muzzle for his patience, “Sometimes we have meaningful discussions. Sometimes he shuts it down. Wil runs things, I’m just glad to make him aware of them…” You began to lead your horse to the stables. Visiting Vesper mattered just as much as anything else; he was out more than he used to be, but still looked like a horse ready to run. “You’re too good for Nottingham, Y/N!” “Oh, hush!” You giggled at Marcus’ comment, but didn’t miss your brother’s look of significance – as if he needed any other reasons to give you one. Today you caught your husband coming back from your room to his office and he paused in the hallway to observe you for a minute; “What did who do to your hair?” “Oh! Little girls from town!” He laughed, “Ah… I like it… it… it looks good.” “It’s pretty.” You beamed, before questioning him. “Where are you going?” “Writing. Uhm, actually I was thinking, if you needed someone else for your rounds.” Wil beckoned you to follow him and you fell in line, “If you want to take Alder with you…” “OH! But-! Darling, he’s… he’s your personal guard.” “I know, but I wanted to help out your cause. It’s no secret you’re helping mine.” He paused again unable to keep his eyes off you, “They like you. I’m glad the people like you. It’s not something I should ignore…” “You don’t.” “I don’t. It’s about taking it elsewhere.” He held his hand out for yours, “Come with me, I need to show you something.”  You kept step with him until you reached his ready room, Alder was the only guard on duty, and gave you a warm smile – which you returned. Hastily turning to your husband as soon as you were inside and the door was closed; “Did you perhaps promise him a position?” “You’re too good at reading people.” “I aught to be, I believe I’ll be needing it.” Your look was significant and the Sheriff feigned as if he didn’t know what you meant with a hum to match, “If you wish not to give him one.” “I can figure something out, but he’s a man I actually trust around you. Which I may also be able to tell you now.” He laughed, beckoning you to his desk, “You don’t trust people around me?” “Not the people with whom you must unfortunately be acquainted. Though why you would expect me to after what you have told me…” “Thought there might be a reason you were no longer accompanying me to Church.” “I’m still angry.” You would go back eventually, the thought of him suffering alone was already pulling you that direction. He sighed through his next sentence, “And she has a temper.” Then lifted the parchment from the table and held it out for you, “Tell me what you think.” Your look was at least amused as you snatched it from him ‘I’ll show YOU temper!’ and read; surprised to find that the letter was from Carina (who signed as Cara) and her husband Charles. “Your friends address you as Sheriff too?” You were also surprised to find it was not addressed to ‘William’. “It’s an official letter so, yes.” You wondered if he would stick with the idea of you writing to him as ‘Wil’ and read on; ‘… We are pleased to hear of your recent marriage to Y/N, Princess of Stavanger. Having briefly made her acquaintance in Nottingham.’ You cringed internally, remembering her from the last big argument you and he had, ‘We cordially invite you to Shirebrook township. We would be honoured to welcome you, as Sheriff, and the new Lady of Nottingham. The people will wish to see her, especially, and we would be overjoyed to be her first official visit. We are not otherwise engaged presently, so reply with a time most convenient for you and we will begin preparations…’ You raised your eyes to the Sheriff’s face slowly; “Lady of Nottingham--?” He nodded, “You have an official title now. But,” he gestured, “that’s hardly the point of the letter.” “It’s addressed to you, it’s your decision.” Wil scoffed, “I won’t do anything without you, especially when you’re involved. You should know that.” You bit your lips together, “…I would love to go.” “I told you they loved you.” You tilted your head, “They don’t have a choice.” “Of course they have a choice. It’s much more testament to you than I.” There was a distinct message there, not lost on you; they don’t like me, they have to like me, but you… they LOVE you. “So you will accompany me?” “I will…” You nodded, suddenly remembering a good idea of your own; “OH! Wil! I- May we ride? Just us, no entourage… no carriages… Alder and Marcus if we really must. But, just you and I.” The Sheriff immediately smiled – and you knew he knew before he even spoke; “You’ve been planning this for quite some time, Y/N, haven’t you?” “I’ve wanted to see what is beyond Nottingham, yes. Especially as you have such jurisdiction… I suppose I am far more used to… open land. The advancement of your city is a new game. One I very much enjoy but-” “You wish to be out there?” “I do. But only if that adventure gets to happen beside you.” He chuckled, “Okay. We’ll do it your way.” He took the letter delicately from you, before proceeding to take your hand in his, “Besides, I suppose the head of my Nottingham guard will be apt at defending her Sheriff.” You grinned; “He best believe it.” *** As an official ‘Lady’ now, you were also sent a group of handmaidens. Which at first you weren’t even so sure you wanted, for one thing if it wasn’t so obvious that you were better in the company of men… then again on that thought, you supposed that may be the point. It was just strange for you to be around so many British women at once; you were certainly out of your element. You had to admit it was nice to be waited on, that they would spend hours on your hair and dressing you in clothes that seemed a little too fine to just wander to Church in. (Although that was always an afterthought when you saw how much Wil beamed to see you in some of these dresses.) It was enjoyable to sit with them and gossip – your old room became an airier space to relax in – and it made you miss your sisters, suddenly you were glad of the substitute. Even though you complained; “I don’t need them-!” “Yes, I know you don’t need them, but to play the part you now must, you should have some. There are some things that can be overlooked, but a role must also be played here.” You wondered how much of a role he was really playing himself, what Wil would be like away from here, if he didn’t have to look after Nottingham… if he didn’t have his fancy title… The Sheriff paused, “Besides, you now have female friends.” You shot him a look at the suggestion you didn’t have female friends and he chuckled, “You understand perfectly what I mean.” “I do. I’m just glad your inference is not that I only have female friends.” “I know you better than that.” “I should hope you would.” You nudged him gently with a smile, “Speaking of, I must be off! Nottingham shall not defend itself-!” You took Wil’s hands in yours as you skipped in front of him, leaning up to steal a kiss. then let him go to run to your next patrol. His laughter followed you up the corridor. “Hurry back.” You swivelled back to him with your best smile; “Only for you!” Things weren’t always good. On his best days you almost couldn’t believe that you’d could have lucked into a better - albeit arranged - marriage. On his worst days you wanted to be nowhere near him, at the same moment as wanting to take him in your arms and hold him closer than he’d ever been before. The Sheriff was a man with a dark past and you were glad you knew that, there was a lot that could be attributed to his behaviour from that. And as he came and went between meetings you also became knowledgeable as to who made him more antsy, and who made him tense. As you learned all of this you could roughly map out how Wil’s day would go, and how his mood would take shape (depending on how he woke up.) Wil had rough nights, where he would wake panting and shaking in a cold sweat, nearly delusional. Where he’d flinch if you touched him; the only way down from this was to talk to him – gentle and firm, until he sought the comfort of your arms himself. Nights where he was restless and couldn’t sleep; where it was best to slip your arms around him and kiss his shoulders, sometimes your delicate touches and soothing voice would eventually lull him to sleep – sometimes you’d drift off, but he would stay with you; before you’d been a permanent resident the Sheriff would have spent half the night pacing the floor – you had the ability to keep him here.  It wasn’t all bad – you couldn’t even pretend that. He had good nights too, where he’d retire to bed with you early. Or when you could entice him from the draw of his desk to lie with you. Pulling you to his chest and kissing you, slow and lazy and intoxicating. Rough nights didn’t always translate into bad days, and more often than not the Sheriff had softer, quiet mornings where he would lay with you and simply talk. He was an early riser – you weren’t always, but sometimes Wil would stay until he had no choice, and sometimes he would let you make him late: ‘Oh… it’s only Pembroke he can wait.’ Maybe you should have been telling him not to shirk his duties, but he worked incredibly hard the rest of the time and you would be selfish with his time when he let you be. The Sheriff was yours, and you loved him dearly, that much you knew was certain. You were beginning to wonder if perhaps he felt the same – his command of Norse went from strength to strength, he would greet you and leave you with typical sweet talk, but also liked telling you all about his day in words that were your own. When you gently prompted corrections, he would only smile and attempt again. You and Tuck kept in daily contact – well, you needed someone’s professional opinion on what was happening in the Sheriff’s meetings that didn’t come from the man himself. Tuck was the safest, and most neutral, place to gossip and right now only had good news for you. There had been no confessional since you had married; what’s more Tuck said Wil spent a great deal of time talking about you. You were his focus – what’s more his focus was only on you. You weren’t sure how long you could keep it; or if it was ‘yours’ to keep. But for now, you would revel in him – and nothing and no-one was going to take him away from you.

*** Surprisingly everyone allowed you to go on this trip alone together. Considering your occupation, you were supposed to stick to the main trails; which if you were honest you thought was stupid, it would give everyone a clear shot at him, yet you understood the point. He’d be much safer than if it was a narrow path through forests where anyone could hide anywhere. Still you ignored the directive as soon as you were outside the walls. Nottingham city was beautiful, you weren’t about to fault it; but the stir in your heart matched the stir of the horse beneath you as the gates opened onto rugged pathways and grass. You weren’t about to stop Eyhamel from surging forward and urged him on. There were shouts from behind you, but it was the Sheriff’s laugh you were really listening too; and soon you were joined by a gorgeous black Stallion. That caused you to laugh too; the feel of the wind rushing passed, blowing cool air through your hair and stirring your dress – the freedom of being outside was a kick you couldn’t resist. And it had been so long. Wil would have been content to simply watch your free spirit; a proud smile on his face. You looked much more comfortable in your clothing today than what they had been dressing you in for church. They complimented your personality – dress a little courser in fabric, you wore riding trousers. The English would see that as scandal, to you and your fellow Norse women it was standard ‘What, you think we go into battle in pretty dresses?!’ then to the look on his face ‘Don’t answer that.’ Comfortable and easy to move in, and yet still elegant in a steel grey-blue that matched his own attire. Your hair was intricate and pulled back from your face so it didn’t get in your way as you rode; a real Norse Princess. Or, Shield Maiden. Still, despite this he couldn’t let you get too far ahead when you didn’t know the exact route, and under all technicalities you were supposed to be protecting him. He encouraged Vesper and his horse responded in kind, tugging the reigns as he raced after you. Wil was a skilled rider, it had been one of the very last things his parents had taught him, you had a wealth of experience, but he was determined to give you a run for your money – and you’d already witnessed the steady control of their partnership in town. His horse out here was something else to behold, and you wanted to see Vesper run. You turned to him with a smile; “Think you can keep up, Sheriff?” “Keep up?” He returned a smirk, “I believe it is you that aught to be worried about such things.” “Is that so?” Eyhamel was quick, that you knew, but Vesper was larger and you’d never seen him at speed, let alone full tilt. You urged him again; “Let’s see you try to keep up!” “Ah!” He called after you, “You forget who knows the way!” “I studied the map!” You yelled back, unwilling to concede that he had a point. Wil shook his head, but found himself chuckling again; “Let’s give them a run for their money, Vesper!” Eventually you both slowed to walk, to give your horses respite – still, by then you were both laughing together. That laugher changed to friendly chatter, as he explained his jurisdiction, the towns nearest to Nottingham and far on into the North of England – how the trade deal with your home town would work, and then the river-to-sea connection. Which is also how the soldiers made their way to the crusade, but, he was a little less willing to talk about that. You told him a little bit more of the journey here from the North, how you wished that you had come into port in Nottingham instead of London with your quip of ‘Oh, I bet it’s beautiful from the water’ to which he chuckled, ‘Well, your people will surely get to see it in its glory…Perhaps you can go and greet them as they arrive?’ You lit up immediately at that, as he knew you would, and the Sheriff got to enjoy your smile. You arrived on the outskirts of a small town eventually, and Wil reached out for your reigns, pulling you and your horse closer. As Nottingham, there were walls around this town, these wooden instead of stone and brick. Already on your approach you saw people scrabbling around on the top to open up the gate. You could hear the faint calls of “Sheriff! The Sheriff is here!!” and your heart swelled a little, hand slipping to his around your reigns, Wil squeezed your hand tight – thanking the guards for opening up the gate. Slowing your horse in sync with his as the gate lowered behind you, Wil let you hand go with a small nod – already you had noticed many of the towns people standing in their doorway to stare inquisitively. It was not Nottingham by any stretch of the imagination; with most of the houses small wooden structures of only one floor. Save for one a little more stately in the middle; you assumed belonging to the people you were really here to meet. Wil pulled up and dismounted, stable hands surging forward to take care of Vesper – you weren’t one to wait for him to help you down, and slid from your saddle before gently patting Eyha for riding so well, handing over your reigns, rejoining your husband. The Sheriff placed his hand gently to the small of your back and guided you towards the couple awaiting you. You already recognised the woman as Cara, the man beside her must have been her husband, Charles. “Wil-!” He stepped forward, “It feels like it’s been a long time.” That hit you immediately; they called him Wil. Sheriff in official letters, Wil in real life. Friends. “Not nearly as long as you’d think. It’s been a while since you yourself made the trip, no?” “Would that I could attend anything in the fair City of Nottingham. What with the war effort we have much to attend to.” The Sheriff chuckled gently; “Well, let’s not make that a priority topic today…” turning to his wife, “Cara… a delight as ever.” She accepted his kiss to her hand, before he straightened to presented you. “It pleases me no end that I am able to introduce you to my wife, Y/N, Lady of Nottingham. Hailing from the Norse Kingdoms.” He always added it, as if it were the thing he loved the most. That you were unusual, an unknown, untameable force of nature. Cara immediately took your hands in hers, “Oh! Y/N! It’s so, SO good to finally make your acquaintance!” You tried not to think about the last time you’d seen her, and were equally glad that at the time you were not speaking English. You took a breath and smiled, squeezing her hands gently, “And yours. It’s a pleasure to make this my first official…” you searched for the word, “…outing?” The Sheriff brushed a hand to your back encouragingly, “It’s taken us quite a while longer than I should have liked. But, we’re here now.” Charles stepped forward and took your hand much as Wil had Cara’s. “It’s an honour to have you in Shirebrook…” You could already see the way that Cara was studying the sword and bow strapped to Eyhamel, and you couldn’t help but smile at her line of sight. “Wow…” she gasped, “when Wil said Shield Maiden he really meant it.” You nodded, “I’ve seen my fair share of territorial battles.” Then with a shrug, “It’s as much my role now to protect him as to be…” you turned to your husband, “a devoted wife.” And you would be. If he was; you still weren’t counting any slips. “It must be incredible to learn such things.” “I could teach you.” You didn’t even consider the fact that wasn’t something done in England. For a second it slipped your mind that you weren’t in a country that respected the freedoms of its women, and Cara immediately flushed. “Oh, I don’t know if I… I don’t know if-” Charles’ response surprised you, and he nudged her, “Cara, dearest, this is not an opportunity you will often have, hmm?” The Sheriff folded his arms with a chuckle, “Whilst you’re at it, you can exchange for an English woman’s etiquette.” You scoffed and shoved his arm with a laugh of your own, though had probably just proven his point. “Remember you’re talking to a Princess!” Still you winked, “She could teach me better than you!” Your first foray into Shirebrook township therefore didn’t go as expected. Perhaps you thought you’d sit around and chat, maybe talk about the town and have dinner together, yet it was very much a split room. The men discussing town planning, and you: teaching Cara how exactly to balance a sword right and how to pull bow strings to just the right amount of tension, the right posture… Then her giving you a surprisingly sarcastic rundown on how women were ‘supposed’ to behave, but also gentle advice, which you knew you would be indebted to. Advice you would gain nowhere else; how to be sassy and snarky whilst still seeming to be polite and in your place. How to speak through your husband; or else, convince him that your idea was his idea. Cara expressed that you wouldn’t know it, but she essentially managed to run Shirebrook like that – although this didn’t surprise you, she was the one who rode all the way to Nottingham after all. And after your initial impression of her perhaps being just another of the Sheriff’s women, you were also gaining a practical example of ‘never judge a book by its cover’. The Sheriff watched all this from his chair, at first it was subtle, because he did have many important things to discuss with Charles. What with fighting and funding the war; but a number of great changes going on in the town itself. A few of which would need the Sheriff’s permission to take place. Once the serious conversation was over, however, both men were able to sit and admire their wives. Of course William had heard Charles wax lyrical about Cara many times before, yet he had never had the opportunity to do so with you. True, he’d written a lot about you – and upon introducing the idea of you to people, he’d always given a lot of information but, that was really all it ever was. He’d never really talked about his feelings for you. “You know…” The Sheriff sat back, comfortably, running his fingers over his lips; “When the King suggested an arranged marriage, I must admit to my worry… Now I can only think how, not only did I have no right to be worried about her but, that in all honesty, it is nothing but an honour to be in a union with such a woman…” He swallowed hard, and soon the Sheriff was discovering that, having started, he couldn’t stop. “She is perhaps a little fiery, but she’s already more devoted to me than I deserve. If I were her, I perhaps would have left. But she’s here. And it’s not… like anything I’ve had before. She cares – about me, as a person and how I feel. And how people treat me.” William tipped his head, watching the way you laughed gently, thoroughly enjoying yourself in Cara’s company. The realisation came too quick; and clearly not soon enough. This marriage was not just a contractual fulfillment, because he had to. Although he had treated it as such. The Sheriff cared about you; he cared a LOT about you. He may have been the cause of a lot of your hurt, but he didn’t want you upset. He didn’t want others to hurt you either – and he would try to stop that to the best of his ability. Wil had let you take over his guard because he wanted to ulitize your strengths; but was that just the reason, or because he also wanted to see you happy? Of course he wanted to see you happy here. And so he kept talking, perhaps even a little perplexed by what he was saying. Yet realising there wasn’t a word of it untrue. He wasn’t sure he knew you enough to love you yet; to really love you. But he felt something for you – a lot stronger than he thought he’d ever felt for anyone. Charles watched all this with a smile that turned into a smirk; “Hey, what happened to you? You’re not that silver fox that everyone spent too long trying to tame now, huh, Wil?” There was a long pause, and his blue eyes still didn’t leave you – the Sheriff blinked a few times before speaking; “Not anymore.”

***

There was something in the way that he treated you after you got back from Shirebrook that was a little different. You weren’t sure why, but the Sheriff smiled more around you, he let you into meetings that you hadn’t been allowed in before – and if anyone said anything, he was pretty firm about you staying. By the tone of voice he used, no one was arguing with him either. And you soon gained your own kind of political astuteness. Even if you spent most of it listening, not talking. At this particular meeting things seemed tense. Your eyes had flicked from side to side within the room for what felt like hours and no one was budging on their view. Wil seemed annoyingly on the fence, and every time he actually tried to come up with a reasonable solution another point was argued. To which he would look irritated and give you the same exasperated glance. You didn’t think it was possible to come to his rescue without either being ordered out of the room… or laughed out of it. Point being, nothing was getting anywhere. Eventually the door at the far end of the room opened and a servant wheeled in a cart filled with what appeared to be bottles of alcohol. It was about the first thing that had really caught your attention, standing with your back against a pillar. The Lords at first paid him no mind as he walked to the table in the corner, upon which stood a collection of alcohol bottles neatly lined up with ornate glasses for everyone present at the meets to help themselves to. You stood straight and tried to guess the content – all the bottles he had seemed to be of the same or similar type, so you assumed the liquid inside them was one sort of alcohol. But it was only as he began stacking them and refilling things that the conversational lull seemed to fade, and they paid attention. “OH! I say, what have you brought us today?” “We have been gifted a large set of brandy bottles from the Archdeacon, M’Lord.” Tension immediately ran through your body and if you were standing straight before, it was nothing compared to the way you were heightened now. Arms no longer folded – although you weren’t exactly sure what kind of action you were ready to take. Yet the message was clear – the Church had sent him brandy… You dared let your eyes flick to Wil; not exactly tense, but the look on his face begged that to be where the conversation was left. It wasn’t. “Oh! Brandy? I dare say we should have some!” The Lords were all in agreement with Pembroke’s statement and the Sheriff’s eyes slowly traced to yours. You shook your head subtly ‘Don’t do this to yourself, you don’t have to do this to yourself.’ There was panic there, it was restrained, but it was and you saw it. Too good at reading someone who had so many walls. ‘I’m here… I’m HERE now.’ Pembroke turned to him; “Will you partake Sheriff?” You hated that it took a minute to recollect himself, “No.” but glad of the word, as he shook his head, “No.” “Oh, but you must!” One of the other Lords piped up, “It’s exquisite.” You shot him a look, maybe he’d like to take a look at your husband’s back and then try to reargue that point. But then it hadn’t occurred to you that the fathers of these men would have been the guardians of the House – did they know? Was everyone in this room aware of what he’d been through? That made the goading into a glass of alcohol even more horrific; they were taunting him with his past and knew it. “No. No. I’m quite alright.” Of course they poured him one anyway, “Oh, but we insist.” “No – I’d rather not!” “Sheriff-!” “No-” This was strange to see; he wasn’t someone that would put up with this. You’d seen him yell at them enough before (sometimes you got a kick out of it, but you weren’t about to tell him that.), but it was the significance of the situation that had turned Wil from snappy and confident, to someone clearly conflicted by what he was faced with. It was starting to affect him; especially with the forced nature of the scenario – like the polite declines were a habit coded into him. By the very same people that had made him hate the taste so much, you could bet. You were already a few paces forward and reading the room like a book, if anyone took another step towards him, if they were about to force him to drink it, if Wil thought he really had to drink it… You were pissed. That they wouldn’t take ‘No’ as a valid answer, that they wouldn’t just leave him alone. It clicked, a little late perhaps, but also just in time – that’s why you were there. Protect the city. Protect the Sheriff. Hell, PROTECT YOUR HUSBAND!! You stepped between them, snatching the bottle with purpose and Pembroke paused like he wasn’t sure what to do with you. There was a hushed whisper over the other Lords and you couldn’t give a damn. You took one look at it with disgust, before weighing it up correctly in your hand and not giving it a second thought, smashing the bottle against the wall. Everyone but the Sheriff jumped at the sound, splinters of glass scattered over the floor; you were sure there were a few in your hands to accompany the tacky sweetness of the alcohol. You didn’t care. The way you were staring at Pembroke didn’t stay exclusive for long and your disapproving scowl shifted to the other Lords, now cowering in the corner. Yeah, you didn’t think they’d like even an ounce of defiance. You were cold, and fierce.  They weren’t standing up to anything but a Norse warrior in that moment. He’d proven to you his faithfulness, his loyalty. Wil had opened up to you about his past and it was more than clear that his history was keeping him manipulated. This might have been the first time you’d seen it first hand, perhaps the first time you’d noticed – but you weren’t about to stand for it, and everyone was going to know this in no uncertain terms. Wil shifted behind you; you weren’t looking at him but you could already bet he was calmer – he was breathing again. Safe. Exactly how you intended to keep him. You made sure that your statement didn’t go unheard and this time it was your voice shaking in anger, no matter how controlled you tried to keep it. That force of nature that the Sheriff always insisted you were; “He said. NO.”

*** When you couldn’t go riding outside alone – as sometimes he let you do, but William worried and wouldn’t let you go too far – to see her, you would write to Cara, and you found yourself loving her more and more. You were glad that he was right, and you were becoming fast friends. It was nice to have someone to vent to sometimes who had a different perspective, or when you wanted to gush poetically about the man you’d married. To read back the same things from her made you smile, sometimes made you glad that you weren’t the only woman here who felt that way. Cara was free to speak her mind to you because of her social class, a fact for which you were eternally grateful. But there was one subject for which she could not speak, and you had much curiosity… Today you surrounded yourself with your handmaidens. It was a hot day, so instead of sitting in your room eager to soak up the sun’s rays for yourself, you all moved outside into the courtyard. As everyone had noticed that your relationship with your husband was progressing nicely, talk had begun to turn – predictably - to the tentative beginnings of children. It was a conversation you were willing to entertain, but not seriously. For one, this wasn’t a conversation that the two of you had had yet. And besides what had already transpired between the two of you, there wasn’t a lot of sexual activity going on. He was still being respectful of your space, and your need to get used to the idea of ‘ours’, not ‘his’ and ‘yours.’ But you knew it wouldn’t stay that way; and you didn’t want it to stay that way. From there… well, unless Wil was adamant he didn’t want any, which, you could understand considering what he’d been through… Children would be a natural progression; at least to talk about. Still, none of these facts stopped you from giggling with Ada and Carolyn about the prospect of having children, and other general gripes they had about men in general. After a particular loud fit of giggles, you found yourselves joined by Tuck, who’s little smile read intrigued; “What on Earth are you ladies talking about!?” “Oh, Tuck!” Ada sighed, stifling her laugher, “The prospect of having children!” He turned curiously to you, “Yes?” You shrugged; “Eventually I suppose. You would know better than I.” “Unfortunately that part of the Sheriff’s life remains a mystery to me.” But he winked gently, “I’ll see what I can figure out, don’t you worry!” “Well, thank you.” Although you mused on it for a second, “Although I suppose the whole idea is fairly presumptuous…” You trailed; it wasn’t something you had considered before this moment, but what if one or both of you were unable to actually have children? Tuck swayed from side to side as he mused that, “Well, there’s always the option of Foundling House.” “OH!” Ada nodded along, “That would be a secondary option – good idea Tuck!” You were glad they were all conversing and the focus was off you for a second, because the name itself shocked you back to a conversation you’d never forget. “Wait, wait, what!?” “You know, a Foundling House, like an orphanage?” Carolyn’s head tipped at the look on your face – which you could imagine was fighting very hard not to look horrified, “Do you, not have those?” Tuck shook his head; “No, Y/N, for accuracy it’s… more like... for abandoned, found children. Hence... foundling.” Suddenly that conversation was a hundred times worse than you had ever realised, and your hands flew to frame your face. “Y/N? Are you okay?” “No- No… I…” You sprang up, eyes flown wide, “Excuse me!” You were flying though the palace before you really knew where you were going, and even though everything was connecting in your head, there were pieces you couldn’t place. Wil had mentioned his father to you before, he said ‘that was after my father was gone’ and he’d also mentioned his family’s estate. But now Tuck was telling you he was abandoned? Perhaps? Abandoned and then left to the Churches mercy!?!? and now here. Not broken, not in a way that made him weak – but bendable, to their whims. What the Sheriff had been through was horrific. What you’d just been told made it so much worse. It wasn’t like, if his parents died, he was orphaned through no fault of his own. You’d just been told he was unwanted. No more. He turned in surprise to your hurried approach and placed the papers back on his desk not quite so ready to accept your embrace as you were to give it. Causing the Sheriff to stagger back a few paces. “Y/N…? Are you- Are you okay? Sweetheart?” You didn’t answer, burying your face in his jacket; you weren’t sure you could answer him, at least not appropriately. I want you… I will take care of you now… Wil sighed, winding his arms around you as your hold on him tightened. As if letting him go had never been an option. Running a hand through your hair he cleared his throat; “I don’t know what I did to deserve your affections, but, I love you too.” You immediately pulled back, staring up into his eyes, unable to hide your shock; “You… you…?!” You weren’t sure if it was deliberate and he’d meant to say it, or it’d simply slipped out as an afterthought, but you couldn’t help but laugh happily and take his face in your hands before kissing him. The tears were happy too; no matter what had been said downstairs. You stayed like that for a while, doing nothing more than looking into each other’s eyes. With Wil’s arms around you like this you were content to remain here forever; and by the smile on his face every word out of his mouth was sincere. It was about time you said the same – but he had used the word ‘too’. He knew you loved him; the Sheriff didn’t need to hear you say it out loud. He never had.

I can hear everything you don’t say…

---

Thank you for reading this! You guys are real ones! Thank you for bearing with me on updating this! 😅😅😅 I hope this point was worth the wait!

You're All I Want (for Christmas), Final Part (Branjie) - Kiki

A/N: This story is complete! I want to wish every single one of you a happy holidays and I hope that 2021 is an amazing year for all of you! 2020 has been so bad and reading everyone’s submissions on AQ throughout the year has brought me so much joy and distraction so thank you to everyone for that. Hope you enjoy!

Summary: A classic Christmas past, present and future fic. Brooke deals with the aftermath of the breakup and Vanessa has to move back to New York. Will they reconnect? 

14th of January 2020

When Brooke was feeling upset, she usually turned to two things for comfort: her friends and food. That’s why as soon as Nina had suggested getting brunch that morning, Brooke jumped at the idea and was ready to have an afternoon of fun and laughter with her friends. It was just the kind of distraction that she was looking for and desperately needed.

Although as soon as she got there, she realised that she was not going to get what she wanted. The whole situation was just awkward. They were dancing around the topic of Vanessa and no one wanted to be the first one to bring her up. Brooke hadn’t seen Nina and Detox since before the breakup because of how much she had thrown herself into her work and now she was regretting saying yes to Nina’s invite.

Nina and Detox had no idea what to say to Brooke. Obviously they were both still friends with Vanessa and had kept in contact with her over the last month. They wanted to be there for Brooke but they didn’t know how they could do that or even how she was feeling since she refused to even talk about it.

Brooke could feel herself growing more and more frustrated with the entire situation. She had thought she was going to get a morning of distraction where she could stop thinking about Vanessa for a couple of hours. But no. All she was able to do in that restaurant was think about Vanessa. Eventually, Nina broke the silence.

“Maybe you should just text her, Brooke. Maybe if you two could stay friends then it wouldn’t have to be such of an uncomfortable situation for you both.” Nina said sympathetically and deep down, Brooke knew she was right. She should text Vanessa. Make sure she was okay…see how she was getting on in Chicago. But there was no point, Vanessa wouldn’t reply anyway. Brooke was confident that she wouldn’t reply. After all, she did tell Brooke that she hated her.

“Nina, shut the hell up. That’s the worst advice ever and you know it,” Detox stated before looking Brooke straight in her eyes. “You need to get your ass on a plane to Chicago and tell Vanessa how much you fucked up and that you made a mistake. What’s the point in sitting here miserable when you could go and get her back?” Brooke immediately rolled her eyes at her friend’s comment. Detox had no idea what was going on. Why they actually broke up. Brooke presumed she had only heard what Vanessa had told her.

“Detox, I just wanted one fucking day where I could not have to think about this, can we please just talk about something else?” Brooke tried to plead with Detox but she was having none of it.

“No, Brooke. I’m not just gonna sit here and watch you ruin your life! It’s stupid and it’s embarrassing!” Detox replied and Brooke had to take a few deep breaths to calm herself down.

“If you don’t stop fucking talking about her, I’m gonna leave.”

“Come on, Detox, just leave it for now, yeah?” Nina said calmly, trying to mediate the situation.

“No, Nina! Don’t act like you weren’t saying this was all a mistake too! You should be backing me up here.” With that, Brooke had heard enough. She took some cash out of her wallet and placed it on the table before storming out of the restaurant. All she had wanted was some pancakes, a nice conversation with her friends and maybe a few cocktails. But no. It seemed like Brooke couldn’t have anything she wanted these days…and she was just going to have to learn to live with that.

—

20th of February 2020

Vanessa was out in a club for the first time in almost three months. She was out with friends which was such a relief because she was starting to think she wouldn’t make any. Kameron and Aquaria were two girls who worked in the Chicago office alongside her. They were told to work on the same project together and the three of them hit it off immediately which made Vanessa very happy.

As Vanessa placed an order for another cocktail, she felt someone tap on her shoulder. As she turned around, she saw a beautiful girl with long black hair and gorgeous blue eyes. Any other time, Vanessa would have hit on her immediately. But she couldn’t right now. Not after everything that had happened with Brooke.

The girl asked Vanessa to dance with her and as much as Vanessa wished she could say yes, she had to say no. Kameron and Aquaria shared a confused look between them.

“Why the hell did you say no, Vanjie? She’s fucking stunning!” Kameron exclaimed and Aquaria nodded in agreement. Vanessa hadn’t told the girls anything about Brooke yet but she figured being drunk in a club was the perfect place to have that kind of conversation with her new friends.

“I guess I have this ex back in New York that I’m not really over yet,” Vanessa began with that which immediately interested the two girls so Vanessa ended up telling them the entire story: how they met, how they got engaged and how they broke up. When Vanessa finished her story, Aquaria had a mischievous look on her face. “What are you thinking, Aqua?” Vanessa was both intrigued and scared about what made her friend grin like that.

“Have you never wanted to make her jealous?” Aquaria asked with her eyebrow raised slightly. Vanessa shrugged and began to think about it. Did she want to make Brooke jealous? She did want to hurt her slightly just so she could see how much it hurt when she dumped her. But that would take a lot of effort and energy that she didn’t have. She came to Chicago to focus on her job, not to keep dragging up her past relationship.

“I mean I guess I would? But I dunno, I wouldn’t even know how do it. I’m here and she’s all the way in New York.” Vanessa explained, hoping that the topic of conversation would move on to something else but knowing Aquaria, she had a plan up her sleeve.

“Easy. Kameron’s your type, right?,” Aquaria asked while Vanessa blushed feeling slightly embarrassed. She guessed Kameron was kind of her type. She was tall, had blonde hair and was kind of quiet until you got to know her. She also had an awesome resting bitch face. Vanessa nodded and Kameron seemed happy to hear it. “I’ll take a few pictures of you two, you pose and make it look like you’re on a date or that you’re all loved up and post it to your Instagram. Then Brooke won’t be able to take her mind off of you for days.” Aquaria explained it all like it was easy and not a big deal but Vanessa felt like she was about to commit a crime. Needless to say, she said yes to Aquaria’s crazy idea and so did Kameron, so they began taking pictures.

Vanessa gave Aquaria her phone to take the pictures on and Aquaria turned into a full on photographer. She was telling them how to pose, where to look, where to put their hands. After a few minutes, they got the perfect shot: Kameron had her hands wrapped around Vanessa’s waist and was kissing her cheek while Vanessa grinned into the camera.

As soon as it was posted, Vanessa put her phone back down on the table and continued talking to her friends. Within two minutes, curiosity consumed her and she had to check if Brooke had seen it. Funnily enough, there were only a handful of people who had seen it, but Brooke was one of them. Vanessa wondered if she still had her notifications turned on for Vanessa’s posts. That would explain how she had seen it so fast. 

Vanessa smiled as soon as she saw that Brooke had seen the post but more than anything, she wished she could’ve seen Brooke’s reaction to it. To Vanessa, the fact that Brooke had seen it so quickly meant that maybe Brooke still cared about her. Or maybe she had just happened to be on Instagram when Vanessa uploaded it. Either way, she knew that Brooke wasn’t in love with her anymore, but the fact that Brooke had viewed it so quickly made her happier than she cared to admit.

—

12th March 2020

It’s crazy how things can change in a year. Last year, Detox’s birthday had been an amazing night of celebration for everyone involved. This year, Brooke had turned back into her past self: not wanting to go to her best friend’s party at all.

Thankfully, Detox had chosen a different club to go to this year so Brooke wouldn’t have to be reminded of meeting Vanessa for the first time. But let’s be honest, it had been on her mind all day and Brooke felt heartbroken about what this day in particular signified for her. She was trying her best to push it to the back of her mind and actually at least appear that she was paying attention to what was going on around her.

Brooke had finished a bottle of wine while she got ready so she was already kind of drunk when she turned up to the club. She wished that Vanessa would come to the party, after all, she was one of Detox’s closest friends. But Detox had already told everyone that Vanessa was too busy with work to fly back for it, much to everyone’s disappointment. Seemed like everyone loved and missed Vanessa.

After about forty-five minutes of everyone chatting and joking around with one another, a round of shots was brought to the table. Everyone was confused because no one had remembered ordering them but the waitress just pointed to a note on the tray. It had a phone number on it and said: For the hot blonde in the red dress, enjoy. Brooke didn’t want to deal with this right now. She just waved to the girl and said thanks awkwardly and took the shot.

“You should go talk to her, Brooke! Say thank you!” Nina suggested and the others agreed.

“I don’t really want to, Nina.” Brooke mumbled and Detox rolled her eyes.

“Why the hell not? She’s so hot!” Detox argued and Brooke could feel all the alcohol hit her at once. She hadn’t been this drunk in a long time.

“Because she’s not Vanessa, why would I waste my time on someone that isn’t Vanessa?” Brooke knew she was saying things she wouldn’t say if she was sober. But right now, she didn’t care. She was willing to talk to anyone who would listen.

“Then why won’t you go fucking talk to her? I swear to God, Brooke, I’ve said this a thousand fucking times, just go and talk to her!” Detox yelled and Brooke was starting to get emotional. Her drunken mind didn’t like people yelling at her.

“I can’t!” Brooke responded whilst trying not to appear sad but miserably failing.

“Why not?” Detox asked and Brooke looked at her like she was stupid and was missing something really obvious.

“She’s clearly moved on, D! Haven’t you seen her Instagram story with that girl?” Brooke said while she grabbed another glass of champagne from the table and started to drink it quickly. Detox looked at Nina and Nina just giggled, the two of them clearly knowing something that Brooke didn’t.

“Shut the fuck up, Brooke Lynn! She’s not dating anyone, that’s her new work friend who is straight, you absolute idiot!” Nina and Detox laughed and Brooke couldn’t help but smile. That picture had been burned into her brain for the last month and she was so happy that Vanessa was still single. She had no right to be happy about it, but she was. She just couldn’t help herself.

—

24th May 2020

Vanessa had been in her office for the last four hours finalising a new design for her company’s upcoming collection. She had been working on these designs with her team for the last six months and she was so proud of them, she really loved what she was doing. It was nice to be able to throw herself into her work, considering everything that had happened in New York. It was just an added bonus that she absolutely loved what she did. She was so in the zone that she didn’t even realise that her boss’s assistant knocked on the door and entered her office.

“Hey Vanessa, sorry to interrupt but Bianca wants to see you in her office. She said it’s important.” The assistant left the room immediately after saying that which made Vanessa’s heart rate increase. She had been working so hard recently. Her designs were amazing, everyone on her team was contributing to the best of their ability and she was sticking to the timeline she was given. What could possibly be the problem? She put down her pencil and left the office, walking to her boss’s office with a pit in her stomach.

“Hey Bianca,” she said as she knocked and opened the door to Bianca’s office. “What’s going on, is everything okay?” Bianca pointed at the chair opposite her own and Vanessa immediately took a seat and began to mentally prepare herself for the worst.

“Everything’s perfect, Vanessa. Actually, I’m really happy with the work that you’ve been doing recently.” Vanessa was waiting for the punchline after Bianca finished speaking. Usually, Bianca didn’t give compliments and when she did, you could almost guarantee that there would be about ten insults to follow after.

“Thank you, Bianca…” Vanessa responded and Bianca laughed at her confusion.

“The reason I called you in here is because I think that you can handle more responsibility within this job. I was talking to corporate and they were thinking that you should move back to the New York office to be the head of design there,” Vanessa was stunned. She had just gotten promoted to the top level of her company’s New York branch. If she had this job, she would be on the same level as Bianca. She would be the boss of everyone, including the people she used to work with. She would get to be back in her favourite city that she had missed so much…the same city as Brooke.

Vanessa’s mind was immediately made up the moment Bianca offered her the job. Chicago just hadn’t been the right fit for Vanessa. She missed her friends and she just missed the city in general. But she couldn’t help but notice the irony of having to move back to New York after only staying in Chicago for six months, considering it’s the entire reason that caused her relationship with Brooke to end. She couldn’t help feel a bit upset about how this had all happened. But in that moment, all she wanted to focus on was the fact that she was finally getting to go back home. Back to where she belonged.

—

12th of June 2020

Vanessa was finally back in her happy place. She was pleased to find out that New York hadn’t changed at all since she had been gone. All of her favourite restaurants were still there, the baristas in her favourite coffee place right by the office remembered her name and she was finally back in the same city as her sister and her friends.

Her new apartment wasn’t the best but she told herself she would find a new one once she settled back in to her work. It was, however, pretty close to where Detox lived which meant that they could hang out more outside of working hours, even though she was so happy to be working with her again.

She had gotten back to New York last week after wrapping everything up in Chicago and this was her first time hanging out with Detox outside of the workplace. They were going to get lunch in one of Vanessa’s favourite cafes and while she was excited, she was also full of dread as she knew that Brooke would undoubtedly be a topic of conversation. The only person she had spoken to about Brooke Lynn recently were Kameron, Aquaria and her mom and they were all on her side, even though there weren’t really any sides to take. She was interested to see how talking to Detox about it would be considering Brooke was one of her best friends.

She had to meet Detox in an hour which left Vanessa with a bit of time to do whatever she wanted. She decided to go to her favourite farmers market and stock up on some fruit and vegetables for the week ahead considering she probably wouldn’t have time during the week when she was working. She had been living off of takeout food and leftovers and knew she had to change that.

As she paid for some vegetables, she heard a familiar voice at the stall behind her asking for some strawberries. She turned around and to her surprise, it was Brooke Lynn…standing right in front of her. Vanessa didn’t know what to do. She was frozen. Should she go up to her and say hi? Should she walk away and pretend she never saw her? She couldn’t stop staring at her. Before she had a chance to make a decision, Brooke turned around and they immediately locked eyes. Brooke was also frozen in her spot and Vanessa decided to just bite the bullet and say hi to her ex-girlfriend.

“Hey Brooke!” Vanessa said awkwardly, not knowing if they should hug or not. She really didn’t know what the protocol was for accidentally running into your ex.

“Hey…what are you doing back in New York?” Brooke asked in what Vanessa could only describe as a nervous tone. Clearly their interaction was affecting Brooke as much as it was affecting Vanessa.

“I got another promotion so I had to move back…”

“Wow, congratulations V! That’s amazing!” Brooke said genuinely and Vanessa could feel her heart fluttering from Brooke’s compliment. They decided to catch up for a bit and walked around the market aimlessly. They talked about Chicago, their families, Thackery and Brooke’s job. It was then that Vanessa found herself thinking about unanswered questions and she was unable to hold back.

“Would you have broken up with me if I hadn’t been offered that job in Chicago?” Vanessa asked quietly and Brooke looked shocked that Vanessa had asked her that. She also looked extremely unprepared.

“I’m not sure.” Brooke replied slowly, unsure as to what direction the conversation was heading in.

“How long had you been wanting to break up with me for?” Vanessa knew that she didn’t want to know the answers to the questions she was asking but damn, it felt good to ask. It felt like a weight was being lifted off of her shoulders at the thought of finally getting some answers from Brooke Lynn.

“I never wanted to.” Brooke admitted quietly and Vanessa could feel her blood starting to boil.

“What do you mean you never wanted to? Then why did you do it?”

“I had to, V, you don’t understand.” Brooke looked like she was trying not to cry and Vanessa really wanted to feel bad for her but at that moment, she didn’t care.

“Yeah of course I don’t understand! How can I understand something if you don’t fucking explain it to me?” Vanessa stopped in her tracks and had her hand on her hip, demanding an answer from the blonde. But Brooke couldn’t handle seeing Vanessa and having her be angry like this. She had to get out of there. She was so overwhelmed.

“I’m so sorry Vanessa, I can’t do this right now.” Brooke walked out of that market with such a fast pace that Vanessa knew there was no way she would be able to catch up with her. All she knew was that Detox was going to get a big long rant about Brooke Lynn as soon as they sat down in that cafe.

—

14th of July 2020

Nina had just bought a new house around the same time as her birthday so she decided to put two celebrations into one and have a housewarming/birthday party. Both Brooke and Vanessa were of course invited, making both of the girls slightly nervous considering how their last interaction had ended.

When Vanessa arrived, Brooke was talking to Detox in the kitchen. To make sure things weren’t awkward, Vanessa said hi to both of them and used going to find Nina as an excuse to make a swift exit. It technically wasn’t a lie; she did have a gift to give to Nina after all. She found Nina in the living room with a bunch of her colleagues and they started talking as soon as Nina saw her.

“Are you gonna be okay, honey?” Nina’s maternal side was showing and Vanessa loved that about her.

“Yeah of course, I’ll be fine!” Vanessa tried to reassure her friend but Nina didn’t seem to be buying it.

“Okay but I’m here to talk if you’re not, okay? Just come and find me.”

“Shut the hell up, Nina, it’s your birthday! You don’t need to be worryin’ about me tonight!” Thankfully, Detox came over to them with two glasses of champagne and ended the awkward conversation that they were having.

There were a ton of people from Nina’s office there and Vanessa decided she might as well introduce herself to some of them so she had people to talk to who weren’t Brooke Lynn. She was just sitting around talking to a group of five people, joking around about Nina and how nice she was while they kept giving her glasses of wine and champagne and whatever else was in the house. Vanessa hadn’t even got off the couch in the last hour but had somehow finished six different drinks and it was definitely hitting her now.

As she looked out into the garden, she could see Brooke sitting alone on the garden furniture. She could tell that Brooke Lynn was quite tipsy herself from the way that she was swaying slightly and had taken her heels off. 

Vanessa’s drunken mind decided that it was the perfect time for her to go and talk to Brooke. She missed her so she might as well go talk to her, right? She plopped down on the sofa beside Brooke and they started talking as if nothing had ever happened between them. They were just talking like old friends. Vanessa swore that she hadn’t seen Brooke so carefree in such a long time, probably not since they got home from Mexico. It made her really happy to see Brooke relaxed for once.

Vanessa was absentmindedly stroking her ring finger where the engagement ring used to be. She had made that a habit when they were together: anytime she felt happy or loved, she would touch her engagement ring, kind of like a reminder that Brooke was going to be with her forever and how happy that made her. She started to feel strongly overwhelmed about her love for Brooke all at once and she longed for nothing more than having Brooke back in her life.

She looked at Brooke and was in awe of how beautiful she looked. She had cut her hair slightly since the last time she saw her. It wasn’t short, just mid length, but it really suited her. She was wearing a nude lip gloss instead of her usual matte red lipstick and overall, she just looked really good and put together. Vanessa had to tell her.

“You look really pretty tonight, B.” Vanessa said shyly and Brooke’s eyes widened in response to the compliment. She recovered quickly enough to reply to Vanessa.

“You always look beautiful, V. Every minute of every day.” Vanessa was grinning so much at this point that she was grateful for Detox interrupting them in case she accidentally said something about how much she loved Brooke in that moment. She would definitely regret that in the morning.

“Sorry to interrupt but I just found the hottest guy and I really wanna go back to his place, are you cool to make your own way home, B?” Detox asked, practically begging Brooke to say that it was okay for her to leave.

“I guess I should probably go too then, I do live a lot further away than you guys.” Brooke said sadly and Vanessa couldn’t bear this being the end of their conversation and their time together. She had to do something.

“You can stay in my apartment tonight, I don’t mind.” Vanessa offered, not thinking before she spoke, as usual.

“Really?” Brooke asked in shock and Vanessa couldn’t tell by Brooke’s reaction if she had fucked it up or not.

“That’s a fantastic idea, Vanessa! You’re so smart, thank you so much!” Detox said and immediately walked away, taking the hand of some random guy and leaving the party altogether.

“I mean if you don’t want to it’s completely fine, I just thought it might be easier for you—”

“No, it’s perfect. It’s really nice of you to offer, thanks Ness.” Vanessa breathed a sigh of relief that Brooke was okay with it and internally screamed that Brooke had called her ‘Ness’. She hadn’t heard that nickname in so long and she didn’t realise how much she had missed hearing it until now.

They spent the rest of the night outside talking and at around three in the morning, Nina started to kick people out so that she could go to bed. They were silent in the uber back to Vanessa’s apartment and when she opened the door, Thackery almost died of excitement as soon as he laid eyes on Brooke.

Brooke immediately picked Thackery up and cuddled him close to her and she started to cry. It reminded Vanessa of how she had reacted when Brooke had first surprised Vanessa with the cat, she was so overjoyed and fell in love with him so quickly. Vanessa couldn’t even dream of having to be away from him for as long as Brooke had.

After playing with Thackery for a while, Brooke started to yawn and Vanessa started to think about their sleeping situation. She apologised to Brooke because her guest room was currently occupied with unopened boxes so it wasn’t able to be slept in. Vanessa decided she would take the couch even though it was probably the most uncomfortable couch ever made.

“No, come on Vanessa, I’ll take the couch. It’s your bed, you deserve to sleep in it.” Brooke argued and Vanessa knew that realistically, neither one of them was going to be sleeping on the couch. Better to just admit it now and get that awkward bit of the night over with.

“We can just share my bed, B. it’s a lot comfier than that awful excuse for a couch, plus Thackery will be so happy to cuddle into you all night.” Vanessa added that little bit in about Thackery for good measure but in reality, Vanessa would love to be the one who could cuddle up with Brooke. Brooke agreed with Vanessa’s logic (of course she did) and they brought Thackery into Vanessa’s bedroom and laid down on the bed. Within minutes, Vanessa was asleep. Brooke was left watching her and Thackery, probably the two things she loved most in the world, while they slept. As she drifted off into a deep sleep, she realised she hadn’t felt this relaxed in a long time.

15th of July 2020

Vanessa woke up with Thackery lying on her legs and with Brooke’s arm around her waist, snuggled up into her from behind. For a moment, she genuinely forgot that they had broken up. Waking up like this felt totally normal to her and she really didn’t want it to end. She figured there was no harm in pretending to still be sleeping so that the cuddles could last for a longer time. No one would ever know.

After almost an hour, Brooke woke up and felt so peaceful. She woke Vanessa up (which didn’t take long considering she was completely faking it) and they said good morning to each other. Somehow, it wasn’t an awkward situation for them. Brooke figured waking up in your ex-girlfriend’s bed all cuddled up to her should be a bit of a weird experience, but it felt completely normal.

“I haven’t slept that well in a really long time.” Brooke said with a raspy voice, still not fully awake yet. She hadn’t attempted to move away from Vanessa, her arm was still wrapped around her and Vanessa was internally praying that she didn’t move it.

“Me too,” Vanessa said with a yawn and Thackery ran up the middle of the bed to push himself in between his two moms. “You know I really missed you, B.”

“I missed you two Ness…so much,” Brooke said in almost a whispering voice and began stroking Thackery. “We really should hang out more now that you’re back in the city, at least try and be friends, you know?” Vanessa nodded in agreement and they spent another thirty minutes just talking and playing with the cat. They made plans to get coffee in a couple days in a café they used to go to all the time and they were both really looking forward to it. After a while, Brooke decided that she had to get up.

“I should probably go to work.” She announced and Vanessa forgot all about that. It was already ten o’clock in the morning, Brooke should’ve been there almost two hours ago.

“Damn, aren’t you already super late?” Vanessa asked and Brooke nodded as she grabbed her belongings.

“Yeah…but it was worth it.” Brooke smiled to which Vanessa grinned in response. Brooke was actually prioritising Vanessa over her work and they weren’t even together. Brooke kissed Vanessa on the forehead and gave Thackery one last cuddle before she left and Vanessa swore to herself that she would be back together with the love of her life before the year ended.

—

29th August 2020

One month later, Brooke and Vanessa were back to being how they always used to be: inseparable. They weren’t in a relationship or anything (even though Vanessa had been manifesting it on a daily basis) but they had been hanging out multiple times during the week. They were either getting coffee, going to the movies or just hanging out in each other’s apartment…just friendly things. But recently, things had gotten to be more flirtatious between them.

Vanessa would catch herself flirting with Brooke out of habit. She slipped back into how she used to act as Brooke’s girlfriend whenever she was around her. Thankfully, Brooke always reciprocated it so it wasn’t one-sided. Vanessa also noticed that Brooke had been complimenting her a lot more recently. She was always saying that she liked Vanessa’s hair that day even when it was the same as how she always did it. Or that she liked her outfit when Vanessa was just wearing jeans and a t-shirt. She also talked about things that Vanessa loved a lot, like she would always pick movies to watch that she knew were some of Vanessa’s favourites and she would pick all of Vanessa’s favourite restaurants and cafes to go to. Vanessa figured that must be a sign that Brooke was still feeling the same way about her. Brooke must still want to be with her.

Brooke was coming over to Vanessa’s apartment that evening to hang out. They were probably just going to order Chinese food and watch a movie. Vanessa wanted to ask Brooke out tonight but she didn’t know how to do it. How do you ask your ex out on a date? She felt so unprepared. Brooke showed up exactly on time and as soon as they sat down on the couch, Brooke had something she wanted to say.

“Look, if I’m picking things up wrong and you’re not feeling the same way then I’m so sorry for making this awkward, but…I really wanna take you out.” Brooke said all at once and at first, Vanessa didn’t think she heard her correctly.

“What…like on a date?” Vanessa asked which made Brooke laugh in response.

“Yeah…like on a date.” Vanessa immediately accepted and Brooke told her to be free on Saturday night so she could take her out. Vanessa was so excited. She was already planning outfits in her mind, thinking about what colours are Brooke’s favourite and what outfits she had worn in the past that Brooke had loved.

They spent that evening watching The Notebook (another one of Vanessa’s favourites that Brooke suggested) and Vanessa ended up falling asleep in Brooke’s arms. Brooke didn’t have the heart to wake her up so she ended up staying the night, yet again.

—

15th September 2020

Brooke didn’t know how this had happened but somehow she had managed to go on six dates with Vanessa in the space of two weeks. They didn’t even go out that much when they were in a relationship. They’ve been for dinner twice, Brooke planned a picnic in the park for them, they’ve had a couple of movie nights and the most recent one was when Brooke asked Vanessa to come along to a work party as her date. It was weird for Brooke not being able to introduce Vanessa to people as her girlfriend, especially since some of the people knew Vanessa from when they were engaged.

She decided that waiting around wasn’t fun for either of them and she wanted to make it official with Vanessa as soon as possible. She invited her over for lunch that afternoon with the intention of asking her to be her girlfriend. When Vanessa arrived, she was wearing a sundress that she had worn on their vacation in Mexico and Brooke thought that she looked amazing, even better than she had back then. Brooke was overwhelmed with love for her again. She was taken back to how she felt when she proposed to her, which was only one year ago. As soon as Brooke placed their plates of food on the table, she asked her.

“Ness, I’ve been loving spending time with you recently and I know that we’re kind of in a strange situation here but…I really don’t want to lose you again. These past few months have really made it clear to me that my life is a million times better with you in it and breaking up with you was the worst decision I ever made. Will you please be my girlfriend again?”

Vanessa practically screamed in excitement and of course said yes. She had a feeling Brooke was going to ask her that today so she decided to wear a dress that Brooke had loved just to really seal the deal and make herself irresistible to Brooke. Vanessa ran over to kiss Brooke immediately and they spent the rest of the day together, relaxing and making up for lost time.

That night when Vanessa went home, Brooke went to the back of her closet and took out a jewellery box she had received as a gift last Christmas. She had put the promise ring Vanessa had gotten her back on the necklace and shoved it in the back of her closet to try and forget about it. But now she got to take it back out again. She couldn’t be happier.

She took it out of the box and put the necklace back on. She made a mental note to keep it under her clothes so that no one would see. She didn’t wanna freak Vanessa out by wearing it so soon but it just felt right. She was finally with the girl she loved again and all she wanted to do was be the love of Vanessa’s life forever.

—

25th December 2020

Christmas Day had come around again and the contrast from how the girls had spent their Christmas last year to this year was amazing. Last year, both of them had been alone and miserable. This year, they were back were they belonged: with each other.

Vanessa’s mom was flying into New York on the 26th and Vanessa was beyond excited about it. She couldn’t wait for her mom and Brooke to reconnect again. Vanessa had originally wanted her mom to be here for Christmas but Mrs Mateo insisted on flying out the day after so that the couple could spend Christmas together for the first time again.

They had already exchanged gifts and completed their usual traditions in the morning (Vanessa had woken Brooke up at 7am again) and after they had eaten some food, they decided to watch a Christmas movie.

“Before we watch this, I actually have one more surprise for you,” Brooke announced and Vanessa was immediately excited. There was nothing she loved more than surprises. Brooke walked into her bedroom and brought out a small gift bag. She sat back down beside Vanessa and took out a small box and handed it to her.  Vanessa opened the box and inside was a key. “I know you don’t like your apartment that much so I figured you might like living in mine a bit more.” Vanessa squealed in delight and hugged Brooke, saying she would love to move in with her. Vanessa loved Brooke’s apartment and she was so happy that she could call it her home now too.

“But wait, that’s not the only surprise I have for you,” Brooke took out another small box and Vanessa recognised it immediately. It was the box that her engagement ring came in. Vanessa couldn’t believe it. Brooke wanted to propose to her again. She couldn’t see what was happening because her vision was clouded by her tears. She was so happy. Brooke took her own necklace with her promise ring out of her sweater to show Vanessa that she had been wearing it all along. At that point, Vanessa was full on sobbing. Brooke tried her best to get Vanessa to stop crying to that she could actually propose to her properly and after a few minutes, she was successful. “Not having you in my life was the worst thing that has ever happened to me. I’m sorry that it took me so long to realise that, you deserve so much more than that and I promise to spend my entire life making it up to you. But there’s one thing I’m certain about, Ness. The love we have for each other is so strong and we will always find our way back to each other, no matter what. I don’t know how I thought that a job was more important than our relationship but I’ve now come to realise that my job means absolutely nothing to me. You are the only thing that matters to me in this world. I don’t care about dream jobs; my only dream is to have you as my wife. I know this isn’t as special as the first time I asked, but Vanessa, will you marry me?”

“Yes!” Vanessa said as she kissed her fiancé with tears streaming down both of their faces. “Nothing would make me happier.” They spent the rest of the day in their own little world, completely loved up and excited for the future. They talked about how they wanted their wedding to be, who they wanted to invite, where they wanted to live when they got older. Basically, all the conversations that Vanessa had wanted to have over a year ago when the only thing Brooke would focus on was work. Vanessa felt like her entire life was on track again. She had her dream job, she had Thackery and as of today, she had a gorgeous new apartment and a beautiful fiancé. Nothing could ruin that for her.

What they didn’t see was Thackery up on the kitchen counter knocking over all of the sugar cookies and food they had made for Vanessa’s mom coming tomorrow. But they could deal with that later. Right now, they were too loved up to care.

Jens’ season | Chapter three

Saturday, January 18th

After the pre-game at Robbe’s, they all moved to some party Jana had found and invited them to. He and Jana had made out a bit, but Jens’ mind couldn’t help wandering to Lucas who was making his phone buzz in his pocket. It felt wrong to make out with someone while thinking about someone else. Jens couldn’t do it. So, he made up some lie about feeling dizzy from alcohol and needing to go home.

Regardless, the night had ended late for Jens. He and Lucas had messaged back and forth all night, getting to know each other through Instagram DMs.

Jens learned that Lucas liked Indie Pop music and hated Marvel movies - even though they look really cool. They are just too long and Lucas could never sit through a whole movie. He broke his arm last year trying to do a trick on the half-pipe, but that didn't stop him from going back on his skateboard the following day. Sweet food was his favorite - as stated at the café. Cakes, pastries, chocolate, pancakes...anything sweet.

The more they chatted, Jens realized that Lucas must have plans with his friends. He only got to see them every other weekend and Jens felt bad from keeping the blue-eyed boy on his phone instead of spending time with them. But, Lucas assured him it was okay, that actually he was glad to have company.

His Friday night didn't go how he had expected it to. What was supposed to be a bowling night ended up being Lucas walking a drunk Isa home after she threw up in the bushes in front of the bowling alley. While he had a good laugh trying to get Isa upstairs, he’d rather lay in bed and talk with Jens.

When he woke up, Jens saw a notification from Lucas. His phone was so close to his face due to falling asleep with it last night that the flashing screen made him groan. He squinted and rubbed his eyes, adjusting to the bright light of the screen.

vanderheijden.lucas Jens? Still there?

vanderheijden.lucas Did you fall asleep? If so, good night. I think I’m going to crash too

A smile crept on Jens’ face, reading Lucas’ messages.

Before he could write anything back, his door opened and Lotte ran and jumped on her big brother’s bed, attacking Jens with morning hugs. A bit startled, Jens’ phone slipped from his hands, landing on his comforter. Lotte screeched as Jens caught her and started tickling her.

''S-stop, stop,'' she demanded between giggles, wiggling and trying to push Jens away with her hands and feet. ''It t-tickles.''

Jens pursued his tickle attack for a couple seconds, stopping when he felt his sister’s breath shorten. ‘’That’s what you get for waking me so early.’’

Lotte frowned. ‘’It’s not early. It’s 10am.’’

‘’For me, it is.’’

The eight year old rolled her eyes, annoyed at her brother's late sleeping-in and morning laziness. ‘’I have something for you.’’

Sitting straighter, Jens raised an eyebrow, curious. ‘’Oh? What is it?’’

Looking around on the mattress, Lotte picked up the piece of paper at the end of Jen's bed and handed him the card she made. It was made out of pink cardboard paper and had drawings of colorful balloons on the cover, spelling 'Happy Birthday' in bold letters. There was a ton of stickers and glitter all around, making a mess on Jens' comforter.

The paper was a bit crumpled from the tickle attack, but it's the thought that mattered. Jens smiled and opened the card, reading Lotte's crooked handwriting. These homemade cards his sister gave him every year were Jens' favorite birthday presents - beside money and alcohol. They were childish, but so meaningful.

His smile widened as he read the short yet heartfelt message. He could tell she had the help of a teacher for the spelling, but they were her words.

''I'm going to a sleepover at Ines' tonight and won't be here to give it to you,’’ Lotte explained.

Jens pulled his sister for a big bear hug. “Thank you for this. You're the best little sister ever,'' he said, returning her own words. Lotte grinned and Jens decided to tease her a bit. ‘’You’re the only sister I have though...don’t have much of a choice.’’

The brunette pulled her eyebrows, giving her brother a look.

‘’I’m kidding.’’ Jens scooted over, tapping the space next to him. ‘’Get in. We can watch a movie before I have to get ready.’’

Lotte looked at Jens with the biggest grin on her face. “Can we watch the new Dr. Dolittle?”

Discontentment and annoyance flashed across Jens’ face. Animal movies were not his thing. Cats & Dogs, Beverly Hills Chihuahua, Marmaduke; he couldn't stand those. As a kid, he was always more into super heroes like Spiderman or Batman. He would watch those for hours on repeat - and had managed to learn all the lines.

The pout on Lotte’s face made him cave and reach for his laptop, about to look for that damn Dr. Dolittle movie.

.

''Birthday boy is here!'' Moyo called cheerfully, phone in hand, filming as Jens made his entrance into the flatshare. He hooked an arm around Jens' shoulder, pulling him in a bro hug. ‘’How does it feel to be seventeen?’’

Jens rolled his eyes at Moyo’s question. ‘’I don’t know. It’s not my birthday, yet…’’ he pointed out, laughing.

Aaron stepped in next, pushing a beer into Jens' hands. They had stronger stuff in the kitchen, but Aaron figured he could start with a beer. It was only 9pm, too early to get drunk. Unless you want to spend your evening sleeping in a corner or with your head in the toilet.

This party was a last minute idea. The initial plan was to go to a bar, but they were all too broke to go out - perks of being a teenager. Neither of the boys could host either, their parents all home this weekend. Except Robbe, who was at the flatshare. But, the place was already taken by Milan’s own birthday party. Having heard their dilema, Milan kindly offered to share his party and celebrate Jens’ birthday too. After all, birthday siblings gotta stick together.

Jens accepted the beer and took a long swig. ‘’Let’s get this party started!’’

Moyo and Aaron cheered on each of his sides, pulling their friend through the mass of people in the living room where they found Robbe - attached to Sander's neck, dancing.

The small boy detached himself from Sander when he spotted Jens, wishing his best friend a happy birthday. Sander did the same, exchanging a quick hug in greetings before pulling Robbe back to him, kissing his cheek.

In true Milan fashion, the apartment was decorated to the max. There was paper streamers taped all over the walls and ceilings along with balloons and even a huge banner on the living room’s wall. A pink fringed curtain separated the kitchen from the rest, as if to let everyone know where the good stuff was.

Jana quickly found Jens, stumbling and holding onto his shoulder for stability. ‘’Happy birthday,’’ she said to him, throwing her arms around his neck and spilling some wine on the floor. Thank god it was white wine.

.

Sunday, January 19th

Jens was a bit hungover when he woke up.

Who was he trying to fool? He was totally hungover. All the alcohol he had downed and mixed felt heavy in his stomach, threatening to come back up. His head was pounding and his back was aching due to sleeping on Milan’s couch.

Over all, he felt like...death.

Jens grunted in displeasure, trying to roll over and grab his phone on the floor - unplugged. If his head didn't hurt this much, he would’ve laughed at his failed attempt to plug his phone, the charger laying a few centimeters from his phone with no phone attached. Good job, Drunk-Jens…

He unlocked the screen and saw a message from his mom, asking what time he was planning to come home - followed by a quick ‘happy birthday’.

Sighing, Jens turned it off and stood, feeling the room spin for a few seconds, probably still a little bit drunk. Steadying himself, he walked past Aaron’s sleeping bag and almost tripped on Moyo’s makeshift bed on the floor. Can’t this boy clean up after himself? Or, was Jens too clumsy?

He heard Zoe and Milan talking, quickly followed by the sound of Moyo and Sander laughing. Jens followed the voices, coming from the kitchen, hood covering his messy hair.

''And he's up!'' Moyo commented as he made his entrance, interrupting the current conversation.

''How's the birthday boy feeling this morning?'' Milan teased, sensing his hangover.

Aaron and Moyo snickered and Jens flipped them off. ''Like I got rolled over by a fucking truck,'' he answered honestly, voice croaky from the lack of hydration.

Last night, Jana had made him chug wine while they danced, and the boys vodka. Seventeen shots for his seventeenth birthday. What a great idea.

Sander was sitting on the kitchen counter - lacking seats -, sipping coffee with Zoe. It was unlike him to wake up before Robbe - or be anywhere without him -, but someone had to make decent coffee.

‘’Want some?’’ Zoe kindly offered.

Jens nodded and she poured him a cup. Hopefully it'll wake him up and ease his hangover - or make it disappear altogether.

‘’Want some vodka in your coffee?’’ Sander asked with a smirk.

Jens made a grimace, stomach churning. ‘’Don’t mention the devil.’’

Sander laughed and got down from the counter, asking if anyone wanted breakfast. Zoe offered to help, knowing no one else could cook in this household.

They took everyone’s orders, settling on eggs and pancakes. Usually, Jens would be down for some good homemade breakfast, but there was no way he could stomach food right now. Just the smell of it made his stomach turn.

Head on the kitchen table, the birthday boy listened as Moyo shared his retelling of last night's escapades. Since his failed attempt with Noor, his pride was a bit wounded and he had taken Aaron's spot as the desperate one of the gang. He ranted about this cute blonde with a plunging top, putting emphasis on how close he was to kissing her, but skipped the part where she slapped him. Too bad for him, Jens happened to have caught the scene when coming out of the bathroom.

And while they all agreed Aaron was the worst in the flirting department... Moyo wasn't much better.

As they were talking, Jens felt like his head was about to explode, how was he supposed to go home like this later? He doubted his hangover would go unnoticed by his parents. Especially his mom. It’s like she has a sixth sense or something.

Just as Zoe and Sander deposited the food on the table, a sleepy eyed Robbe walked into the kitchen, hair messy and sticking up here and there. He wasn't even wearing pants, just an oversized tee shirt, covering just enough.

“Do I smell pancakes?” he asked.

Sander snorted, unimpressed. ‘’Of course, that’s what gets you out of bed.” Robbe smiled lazily and went to sit on Sander’s lap, already missing his boyfriend’s touch. “Now I know what gets you up in the morning!”

Robbe pressed his forehead against Sanders, mumbling quietly. “I can tell you of a few other things that get me up in the morning”

“Hey, we are eating here, man,” Moyo groaned, tearing his eyes away from the couple and scrunching his face.

“Well, at least you don’t have to live with them 24/7” Milan lamented.

Zoe agreed, scooping a pancake onto a plate and taking it to the counter to eat. The kitchen was a tad bit small for all these people, but they made it work.

‘’You’re not eating?’’ the blonde asked Jens, eyebrows raised, but the boy shook his head. ‘’It might not sound like it, but eating could make you feel better. Alcohol causes low blood sugar. Eating breakfast actually helps get your sugar levels up while the alcohol comes out of your system.’’

‘’I’m good.

Jens felt his phone buzz in his hand. He lifted his head and Looked at the screen, seeing an Instagram notification.

vanderheijden.lucas sent you a message.

Jens opened his phone and stared at a flashing ‘HAPPY BIRTHDAY’ gif.

vanderheijden.lucas I hope you had a great birthday. Sorry I couldn’t be there, but I’ll definitely see you next Friday

.

Monday, January 20th

Jens felt a lot better on Monday. The content of his stomach was no longer threatening to come up and the elephant sitting on his head was gone.

He had vomited his guts in the bathroom when coming home yesterday and had to make up a lie about eating something bad at Robbe's and upsetting his stomach. His knew his lie was mediocre and his mom probably saw through it, but didn't say a thing. He was a teenager and it was his birthday, he's allowed to have fun once in a while.

He was on his way to meet the boys for lunch when someone walked past him and bumped into him on the staircase.

''Sorry, I should watch where I’m going.’’

Caught off guard, Jens forced a smile, turning more genuine when seeing Lucas. His curly fringe was perfectly swept on the side and the color of his jacket matching his blue eyes.

“It’s cool. How was your weekend?'' Jens said, trying to stay smooth and chill.

He didn't know why, but Lucas's presence had the tendency to destabilize his confidence a bit.

Lucas shrugged. “It was good. I hadn't gone home since my dad and I moved here two weeks ago. It felt good to spend some time with my mom and see my friends. I really miss it sometimes...but then I run into you and it doesn’t seem so bad.”

He smirked and Jens' didn't know how to react. His stomach dropped, surprised, but not shocked. Was Lucas flirting with him again?

''I saw your stories, it seemed like you had a lot of fun at your party?''

“Yeah, it was great, but I got a wicked hangover that I’m still getting over.''

''Have sex.''

''Excuse me?''

''Sex is an excellent cure for hangover.''

Jens raised an eyebrow. ‘’Does it?’’ He paused, raising his gaze to meet Lucas’, clear blue irises looking right into his. ’’I’m gonna need a partner for that, though...’’

The brunet cocked an eyebrow, still holding Jens' stare, reading through the heavy subtext. They had entered a new level of flirting and neither were mad about it.

Lucas licked his lips slowly, making something in Jens' stomach flipped over at the gesture, and the Netherland boy took a step closer towards him, nearly closing all the space between them. Lucas opened his mouth, but before he could say - or do - anything, someone called Lucas’ name.

''Luc! Come on, man, we’re going to be late.''

''I gotta go. See you later, Jens,’’ Lucas said, readjusting the bag on his shoulder and winking before leaving.

.

Tuesday, January 21st

A knock on Jens' door woke him from his slumber. His first thought was that it was his sister joining him for the night, but Lotte never knocked. Jens frowned. Slipping out from his covers, the teenager walked to the door, eyes barely open, still half-asleep.

The hallway light caused Jens to squint his eyes and hiss. He rubbed them with his palms, adjusting to the light. ''Mom?''

She was in her bathrobe, hair down from her usual bun, slightly messy due to her pillow. ''Sorry to wake you, honey,'' Fenna apologized in a hushed voice, cautious to not wake her sleeping daughter next door.

It was very unusual for his mom to wake him in the middle of the night - unless something was going on. Did she get an emergency call from work? Jens hadn't heard his father come home, did he get into an accident? His frown deepened, getting worried.

''What is it, Mom?''

Fenna sighed and looked down, the bags under her eyes appearing more prominent. ''Your dad is drunk. Can you help me take him to bed?'' He could sense the shame in her voice from having to ask her son for help with his drunk father.

Jens nodded, mentally shaking his head in disappointment.

He followed his mom down and walked into the living room, taking in the state of his inebriated father, passed out on the loveseat, shoes still on and jacket half off. Jens felt a burst of resentment towards his dad in that moment. How could he drink so much that his own son was having to drag him to his room so his little sister wouldn’t see her dad this way? How could he do that to his wife too? Doesn’t she work hard enough at the hospital? She doesn’t need to come home and have to deal with her drunk husband.

''I tried to get him to move, but he's being stubborn and-'' Fenna started to explain, a yawn interrupting her.

It was the first time it happened and Jens hoped it was the last - for his dad's own good. Coming home late and picking fights with his mom was one thing, coming home drunk was another.

''Go back to bed, Mom. I'll take care of this,'' Jens said, taking in the state his dad was in. He reeked of beer and whiskey.

Fenna refused. ''No. It shouldn't be your job to take care of your dad.''

‘’He’s just a dead weight. I'll manage.''

Her eyes shifted between her son and husband, feeling guilty for making Jens take care of Mohamed. He was a kid, it wasn’t his responsibility. But, she had already tried to get him upstairs and didn't succeed. All she did was get one half of his jacket off.

With one last look at her son, Fenna gave in. ''Alright. I'll go get his side of the bed ready. Just bring him upstairs, okay?''

Jens nodded and watched as his mom returned to the second floor, leaving him to deal with his dad. The teenager sighed, dreading the work to come.

''Dad?''

The man grumbled, half responsive. Jens didn't lose time trying to understand whatever he was trying to say and threw his dad's arm over his neck, getting him to sit up just enough to remove his jacket. Like he said, he was a dead weight which made the task a bit difficult.

''Can you stand?'' Jens asked, trying to not let his irritation show.

He helped his old man up, slinging one of his arms behind his neck and keeping one hand behind his dad's back as support. Mohamed felt heavy on Jens.

Mohamed mumbled something that Jens couldn’t understand.

“What did you say?”

“ I said, your mom hates me.” His voice was rough and slurred.

Jens sighed. “She doesn’t hate you, but you need to start doing better. She can’t keep working these double shifts all the time, and you can’t be coming home drunk like that. It’s not fair to her, and it’s not fair to Lotte or me either. I shouldn't have to do this, Dad.” He wasn't trying to guilt-trip his dad, just talk some sense into him.

There was a long silence before Mohamed responded. “I’m trying, okay? But nobody wants to hire a 40 year old with minimal training.'' He scoffed before going into a coughing fit. ''Anyway, why am I even telling you this? You're just a teenager that has no idea what it means to support a family.”

Jens tried to not let his dad's words get to him. While he wasn’t a parent, he had been kind of forced to take over his dad’s responsibilities and play the head of the house for his family recently.

After a difficult struggle, Jens finally got his dad to his room and safely into bed. He wasn't so drunk he'd have to be watched over, but Jens took all the precautions - just in case. He put a pillow behind him so he'd stay on his side during the night and set a glass of water on the nightstand, right by his phone.

Jens gave Mohamed one last glance, his eyes darting to his sleeping mother. He wished that things could be different for her, that she didn’t have to carry the weight of the world on her shoulders. She was a good mom and Jens knew she would do whatever it took to take care of her family, but he couldn't let her put her health in jeopardy.

With a heavy sigh, Jens quietly closed the door and returned to his own bed.

.

Thursday, January 23rd

''Hi,'' Amber said, interrupting Jens and Aaron's conversation, leaning in to kiss her boyfriend, lingering a bit too long - and with too much tongue - to be appropriate for school grounds. At least, in the middle of the main hall.

Jens rolled his eyes, tearing them away from the unwanted tongue battle in front of him. Seeing his annoyance, Jana saw this as an opening and smiled before going in for a kiss. Unlike Aaron, Jens dodged her lips and pulled out his phone, checking if he had any new messages.

He had seen her coming - of course he did -, but something inside him didn't want to kiss her. Especially when he was starting to feel something for a certain blue eyed boy.

Kissing at parties - or at home - was for fun, but kissing at school felt a bit too official for Jens' liking. No one kissed their Saturday hook up in the hallway between classes. He didn't want to give Jana the wrong idea and then hurt her feelings.

The brunette frowned, confused and hurt.

Jens could feel her sulking, but he didn’t say a thing, acting as if he wasn’t aware of what he did. Sometimes, playing dumb got you out of trouble.

Sulking, Jana pulled at her friend's arm, forcing their kiss to end. ''Amber.''

‘’What?’’ the blonde said, turning to Jana. ‘’Oh! Right. Change of plans. My parents are away this weekend so I’m celebrating my birthday a bit early. You’ll come?’’

‘’Sure babe, we’ll be there, right Jens?’’ Aaron nudged him, forcing the raven haired one to look up from his phone.

Jens faked a smile. ‘’Sure.’’

.

Jens pressed the doorbell and waited.

He had texted Moyo's guy earlier today and had been given an address to meet at. At first, the guy was skeptical, but Jens mentioned Moyo and everything was chill.

Dogs started barking at the doorbell noise and Jens' back straightened. A man told them to shut up - which they did -, and someone popped their head out, keeping the door mostly shut. He had a buzz cut, clean cut beard and the tattoo on his neck gave Jens the chills.

Seeing a new face, the man glanced up and down at Jens and raised an expectant eyebrow, asking what he wanted.

''Erm, I've been given this address. I'm here to see...Michiel.''

If he had told Moyo the truth, he wouldn’t have given Jens his dealer’s number. While his intentions were good, dealing drugs - even just weed - was very unsafe. The risks of getting caught and consequences were higher than just smoking it. But, all Jens saw was a way to make a quick buck and help his family.

The guy disappeared inside for a few seconds, probably talking to his boss, and came back to let Jens inside.

Unlike the previous guy, this one was much shorter, but non the less intimidating. He had a thick gold chain around his neck and a scar above his eyebrow. ‘’You asked for me?’’

‘’I…’’

Jens felt like an idiot. He had always been a pretty confident person, but Michiel’s presence made him nervous - with good reason. Drug dealers weren’t the kind of people you want to mess with.

‘’If you want to buy, see one of my guys, Kid. I just make the big deals.’’ Michiel was around to turn his back and leave, but Jens spoke up.

‘’Actually, that’s what I’m here for. A friend referred me to you, saying you might have something for me. A job.’’

Michiel glanced at Jens up and down, just like the previous guy, and scoffed. ''I already have my guys.''

Under his grey hoodie, smooth skin and dangly earring, Jens was too clean for Michiel’s taste. He could never pass as a pusher, he looked too young.

Seeing through his thoughts, Jens took another approach.

''Look at me. No one will suspect it. I...I can cover at school? Or even the skatepark? People there are always looking for weed. I’m sure I could bring you good cash.’’

The man hesitated still. Teenagers weren't the most trustworthy pushers. Most would either use all the drug and run off. But, something was different about Jens. He had this insistence and self-motivation that got Michiel’s attention.

‘’I need fast cash. Give me a chance. I...I really need it,'' Jens almost begged. He tried to cover his emotions, not wanting to sound too desperate even though, in his head, he was on his knees. He needed this job really bad.

Michiel’s silence got Jens scared he had blown his shot. ‘’You do have a pretty face,’’ he pointed out. ‘’Make sure I don't have to ruin it, okay?''

Jens nodded rapidly.

‘’You’re on trial. I’ll give you a couple grams and I need them sold as fast as possible. Give me a shout when you’re done.’’ Michiel paused. ‘’Don’t disappoint me, Kid.’’

.

Friday, January 24th

The bag of weed in his backpack felt heavy. Cert, there was more grams than Jens usually took to parties, but weed doesn’t weight much. It was more the pressure of having to sell it that made it heavy.

Being a smoker of green for over two years, it was his first time actually selling weed. He had sold some to guys at the skatepark, a gram or two, but he was never a pusher, as they called them. The term sounded dirty and wrong in his head. Jens knew it was something he shouldn’t be doing, but his parents needed money.

Robbe giggled at something Sander said, already a bit tipsy from the beers they drank at his place. He had hosted a pre-game, the first one since he moved back with his mom, and he didn’t slow down on the beers. At his boyfriend's behavior, Sander had kept it low with the alcohol, knowing he’ll be the one to carry Robbe home later and couldn’t do that if he was too intoxicated.

For the first time, Aaron hadn’t been present at the pre-game. Being the boyfriend of the birthday girl, he was already at the party, helping Amber and the girls with the decorations and all that.

Moyo pressed the doorbell, waiting for someone to open. They could hear the shitty pop music Amber loved from the doorstep. Sander grimaced at the music choice, Amber’s music taste being added to the list of things he didn’t like about her.

‘’I’m gonna....go see Kobe,’’ Jens announced, seeing him by the window with a couple guys from the skatepark. ‘’I’ll be right back.’’

Jens and Kobe weren’t friends. He had sold him weed once and shared a blunt behind some bushes at the skatepark one afternoon. What Jens knew was that the guy was always looking to buy weed, having no regular dealer, aka easy cash for Jens.

Moyo nodded, heading to the kitchen to look for Aaron with Robbe and Sander following behind, holding hands and walking close.

‘’ ‘Sup, man,’’ Kobe said as Jens approached them.

‘’Good, good,’’ Jens responded, responding to the brunet’s fist exchange.

‘’Long time no see.’’

‘’Yeah… Eh, I might have something for you.’’ Jens raised his eyebrows and motionned for Kobe to follow him.

Kobe nodded, a knowing smile on his lips, getting what Jens meant. He told his friends he was going with Jens for a few minutes, having something he wanted to tell him in private.

Jens almost snorted at Kobe’s lack of subtlety. This guy was worse than Aaron - if possible.

.

Half of his stock sold, thanks to Kobe and the guys they ran into on Amber’s balcony. Turned out selling weed wasn’t as difficult as Jens had initially thought. Being at a party was helping his sales, but it was relatively easy. People bought by chunks of two or three grams with promises of buying more next time Jens had some, not having a lot of cash on them.

Fiddling with the doors, Jens found himself in the bathroom, trying to hide from the outside world that sometimes got a bit too overwhelming. It’s not that he didn't like to party, he just hadn't been in the mood lately. There was a lot on his mind and, sometimes, he just couldn’t escape it.

‘’Hiding from someone?’’

The voice startled Jens, but when he saw who it was he just shrugged. ‘’I don’t feel like partying tonight, is all.’’

Lucas hummed. ‘’Mind if I join?’’ He reached into his jacket’s pocket and pulled out a slightly cooked joint. ‘’I have weed. Straight from Netherlands.’’

Who was Jens to refuse free weed. He shifted in the tub, making room for Lucas.

‘’I’ve been wanting to ask: why did you move here? I know your parents got divorce, but isn’t changing countries is a bit extreme?’’ He passed the joint to Lucas, head leaned back against the tiled wall, starting to feel the buzz.

Lucas smiled at the ceiling. ‘’Try telling my father that. If you ask me, he tried to take me away from my mom; if you ask him, he got a job offer he couldn’t refuse.’’ He took a drag and exhaled the smoke through his nose. ‘’I didn’t want to go, but according to the judge, he’s the one who can offer me a ‘better life’. So I had to go with him.’’

‘’Why would he take you away from your mom? Is she ill or something.’’

‘’Or something,’’ Lucas confirmed, not comfortable talking about this part of his life yet. He handed Jens the joint again.

‘’Left a girl at home?’’

Lucas snorted. ‘’A girl? Who said I’m into girls?’’

Jens shrugged, not knowing what to answer.

Lucas never explicitly said who he was attracted to, why did Jens assume that he was straight? By default, maybe? Despite all the progress the LGBTQ+ community is making in society, history had a way of bleeding into our subconscious. So, unless someone showed a ‘behavior that defied the default’, they were classified as straight.

‘’I tried girls, but it wasn’t for me,’’ Lucas started. He shook his head, thinking back at his mistake. ‘’They’re pretty, but it wasn’t doing it for me, you know?’’

Jens nodded. A part of him understood what Lucas meant, but another didn’t. Unlike Lucas, Jens liked girls. Their long hair, sweet perfume, smooth skin - and boobs. But, more recently, he found himself looking at boys - one, in particular.

‘’I was in love with a boy - my best friend,’’ Lucas continued. ‘’He had a girlfriend, who was also my friend, and I fucked it all up.’’

‘’Your chances with him?’’ Jens tried.

‘’No. That was pretty much dead from the start,’’ Lucas explained with a chuckle. ‘’Our friendship, their relationship.’’

‘’So, you’re a homewrecker?’’

Lucas gasped, kicking Jens’ leg playfully. Jens gave him a small grin.

‘’Hey what happened to sharing? You’re hogging the weed,’’ Jens pointed out, mildly annoyed.

''Come and get it,'' Lucas teased, pulling the joint at arm's length, away from Jens's reach. There was a challenging tone in his voice, almost daring Jens to come closer.

A bit too intoxicated - and high - to think properly, Jens leaned over, hovering over Lucas as he tried to get a hold of the joint. Lucas laughed, moving the lit joint every time Jens was close to take it. Jens was getting frustrated, his reflexes slower than usual because of the marijuana.

Jens started laughed too, having difficulty holding himself up in the small tub. ''Stop it.''

Lucas continued his little game, their laughter caused Jens to lose balance and slip. Thankfully, he was able to grab at the tub's edge, preventing himself from crushing Lucas under - or cracking his skull.

''Sorry,'' Jens apologized.

He was about to raise himself back up, but stopped when he realized how dangerously close they were to each other, faces only a few inches apart. Jens's body stilled, breath catching in his throat as his heart rate started to pick up behind his chest. His dark eyes easily found Lucas's blue ones and Lucas stopped laughing. He stared back at Jens, taking in his sharp cheekbones and plump lips.

Jens made the first move, eyelids slowly fluttering shut as he closed the gap between them, pressing his lips on Lucas.

Undoubtedly, when Jens came to this party, he didn't have the intention of kissing Lucas in Amber's bathtub. But, one thing led to another and here he was, sitting back in the tub and kissing the new kid.

Sparks didn't fly when their lips touched, which was a bit disappointing. Or, maybe it did? The weed was confusing his senses.

Kissing a boy wasn't that much different than kissing girls, in the end. It was the same mechanics; lips on lips - and sometimes tongue. Lucas' lips were very soft for a boy. They tasted like weed and beer too, which Jens didn't mind. It was a nice change from the usual sweet and sticky feeling of glosses and lipsticks or whatever girls put on their lips.

A breathy moan left Lucas' lips as one of Jens' hands came up to cup his jaw, holding him in place as his tongue grazed over Lucas' mouth, teeth closing on his bottom lip and pulling. Jens' senses were buzzing and his mind was too far behind to function.

Lucas' free hand snaked behind Jens' neck, grasping at his thick, dark hair, giving it a slight tug, the single earring dangling as they kissed. Jens breathed a moan into the kiss at the feeling and Lucas smirked, content with himself, before doing it again.

Fuck. How did he get here?

Jens broke the kiss, needing to catch his breath and the brunet took advantage of the taller one's neck being exposed to trail his lips up and down the tanned skin. It will most likely leave marks behind, but Jens couldn’t be bothered to care. At the moment, it felt really good.

Jens cradled Lucas’ face in his hands, guiding him back up and brought their lips together again. This time, the kiss was softer and slower, savoring the feeling of those beautiful pouty lips he had wished to kiss for weeks.

The Fantastic Beasts Franchise and JK Rowling

Alright, so...hi everyone.

I don’t know how many people follow this blog anymore because my main blog of operation is now @alwaysahiccupandastrid - I still try to keep this blog relatively active though, just because it was my original blog, I’ve had it since I was 13, and I have so many memories attached to it.

I’m aware that a lot of the people who follow me, especially since late 2016, do so because a) I was a loud and proud Fantastic Beasts fan, b) I wrote some Newtina and Jakweenie fic, and c)...I don’t know. I literally don’t know why people bother following me anywhere because I don’t feel like I have a lot to say. But, anyway, many people probably follow me due to Fantastic Beasts and my posts/fanfics within the fandom.

Those who follow my active blog will already know my feelings and thoughts, but because of the fact many things about this blog - me, the posts for the last four-ish years, the url itself - are Beasts related, I felt it was necessary to come and write an actual post here instead of just reblogging things and calling it a day. I’ve always been very outspoken online, but I’ve been avoiding a certain topic of conversation on this blog for years now, and I’m finally in a place where we can discuss it.

I am, of course, talking about the hot topic that is JK Rowling.

Back in the days between FBAWTFT and FBTCOG, I was a very outspoken defender of JK Rowling and her decision to defend Johnny Depp’s inclusion in the films. Now, this is something I still stand by to this day, and due to the evidence that has since come out, I’m even more steadfast in the opinion that keeping Depp was a great decision. I am fully in support of him and the way he’s currently battling against his abuser. But that’s not what I’m here to talk about right now. As I was saying, back in the day, I was outspoken about the opinion that “we don’t know the full story” etc., and as a result I received very colourful anon messages. Now, to my knowledge, none of these were about JKR being a TERF/transphone, but I think it’s important to mention that at the time I scoffed at the idea she could be one. I openly admit that I didn’t listen to what other people - including actual trans individuals - were saying about JKR and her transphobia because I frankly didn’t want to admit it. I didn’t want to admit that the person who wrote something that saved my life could be so hateful and a bad person - that, and at the time I passed it all off as “wokeness out of control”.

It is now 2020. Up until last Saturday night, I was still in support of JK Rowling - I didn’t agree with some of the stuff she had said, but I was trying to be positive and have hope by telling myself that she didn’t mean to be transphobic, that she just didn’t know what she was doing was wrong, even though the evidence clearly showed otherwise (I.e. her liking transphobic / radfem tweets). I said to my followers on my Beasts page that instead of cancelling people outright, we should be attempting to educate them instead, and if they choose not to learn then fine. And, being 100% obvious, I didn’t want to admit it because I frankly already was feeling annoyed at two different Beasts cast members for different reasons: Ezra Miller (for choking a girl) and Dan Fogler (for his tweet about BLM - admittedly that was probably him being well intentioned but not saying it right). So yeah, I didn’t want to cancel another member of the Beasts “family”.

I had JKR’s tweets on notifications, and for the most part over the last few weeks, it was all about the Ickabog. However, on Saturday night I noticed that she had suddenly tweeted something completely different, and I looked at it. Given that I had adamantly defended her and said “freedom of speech” for so long, it’s telling that my first thought upon seeing her tweet was literally “for fuck sake, Jo, why”.

I won’t post her tweets here but to sum that first tweet up, it was her being annoyed over the term “people who menstruate” being used in an article instead of “woman”, and mockingly saying “there used to be a word for that” before pretending she didn’t know the word. She knew that tweeting it would start arguments and anger, and yet she still made the decision to do so. Her follow up tweets frankly dug the hole deeper; she tried to defend herself by saying, to sum it up, “I have a butch lesbian friend who agrees with me” “I just care about women’s rights!” And “IF trans people were marginalised I’d march with you!” (“If”, of course, being the real kicker here because what do you mean IF. They ARE. Every DAY.)

Since then, JKR has written an essay on her website defending herself and her opinions, and yes, I read it. I read it a few times, in fact. At first, I felt my anger simmer and felt I had been too hasty to make anti JKR jokes, that I was wrong...but then I read it again properly and realised that what she had written was a piece that turned herself into the victim, and that despite putting on the appearance of her saying she supports trans people, including the phrases “I support trans people” and “of course trans women are real women”, she still spewed much transphobic vitriol and hate. She cited no sources for any of her proclamations or statements about statistics, implied that trans men transition to escape their “womanhood”, that trans women are men in dresses, that trans women are dangerous to “real” women (aka cis women) and shouldn’t be allowed into women’s changing rooms or toilets. There was also the autism comment, and the implication of autistic girls somehow not being able to make decisions or whatever.

I’m going to get straight to the point: I don’t support JK Rowling or her radical feminism.

As someone who is a proud feminist (libfem?), I can honestly say that never have I felt threatened or like I was being silenced by the inclusion of trans women in feminist spaces or conversation. Never. In my second year at sixth form, I was in charge of the LGBTQ+ club until a new leader with better leadership skills could step in, and - put simply - that year, the club was made almost entirely of first year transgender students. Even though I had called myself a trans ally for years, I realised there was a lot I didn’t know, and I learnt quite a lot from these students. I continue to still learn today. They were some of the nicest and most intelligent people I got the chance to meet, and I can truly say that at no point was I ever worried to be in a room alone with a trans woman, nor was I concerned about which bathroom they went in - bathrooms are bathrooms. Speaking of bathrooms...when I was at uni during a particularly tense rehearsal a few weeks before our final show last year, a guy in our group made me cry and I ran to the women’s bathroom to escape. Not only did the other girls come to comfort me, but you know what? The guy came in and apologised profusely to me. Did any of us girls give a shit about having a guy in our toilet? Absolutely not. It’s a fucking toilet. And, on that note, I was never worried about a trans woman or even a cis man attacking me in the toilets. You know who DID attack me in the toilets regularly? Other cisgender women.

As a feminist, I fully support trans women and am not threatened by the inclusion of trans women in women’s spaces or in women’s rights discussions. While I agree that cis women and trans women inevitably go through different struggles, at the end of the day, we all identify as women and are women. I think that if your feminism is so threatened by the existence of trans women - TERFs, RadFems, JKR, looking at you - then your feminism is flimsy and not feminism at all.

As a woman, I find it highly offensive that JKR and many RadFems focus so much of womanhood and feminism on an involuntary biological function that, frankly, many of us would rather do without. Yeah, I’m talking about periods - no matter how proud I am to be a woman, I still fucking hate periods and would get rid of mine if I could without erasing my chance of having kids someday. I can hear the RadFems accusing me of “internalised woman hatred” for saying I hate my periods, but you know what, they suck and they hurt and fuck them. The fact that JKR (also the the radfem movement) reduced “women” to just people who menstruate and can have children, and vice versa, is incredibly offensive and misogynistic. For a start, trans men menstruate, intersex people can, non binary can etc. Next, not even ALL cis women have periods - women who are menopausal, young women who haven’t started puberty yet (some do start very late), some women don’t have regular cycles, some women have medical problems that affect their cycle, some women are on birth control that can stop their cycles. So the idea of women being defined as “those who menstruate” is offensive not only to trans/intersex/non binary individuals but also to cis ones too.

As I write this, I’m a 22 year old woman who is still learning and changing every day, and one of the things that I’ve found myself thinking about recently - especially since we’re in lockdown and we have nothing BUT time to think - is about myself and my identity as a woman. What prompted this was when I saw Greta Gerwig’s adaptation of Louisa May Alcott’s beloved book, “Little Women”, which I’ve since read, for my birthday back in January, and I left the cinema feeling exalted and powerful with my own identity as a woman. (I’ll be returning to LW in a bit)

After some thinking, I’ve realised some things. For me, my identity as a woman is not just because once a month my uterus decides to shed; I do not identify as a woman just because I have certain physical features. I am not a particularly feminine person either, and I’m what some may call a “tomboy” (a phrase I actually don’t mind but I know a lot of people do for understandable reasons since it’s a phrase designed to differentiate people who don’t conform to society’s expectations etc) because I prefer video games and more geeky stuff to shopping or dressing up or make up.

For me, there is no one way a person has to be or appear in order to identify as a woman. Women are beautiful, complex human beings; we are not defined by our genitalia, by an involuntary biological process. Women are strong, intelligent, and interesting people - no two are the same. For example, some decide to raise families, some choose to pursue a career, some do both - all of these are valid and none are more “feminist” or “womanly” than the others, because it’s our as women. I guarantee that if you lined up every single woman in the world - cis AND trans - no two would be the exact same.

I mentioned “Little Women” earlier, and as I was pondering over what makes me identify as a “woman”, I thought a lot about a certain quote from the 2019 film that has stayed with me since it was first said in the release of the trailer. It’s spoken by Jo March to her mother, and I’ve started to understand what for me makes me a woman.

For me, being a woman is all of this: having minds, hearts, souls, ambition, talent, and being beautiful each in our own ways. Women are capable of love and empathy, capable of desire, capable of the most complex and human feelings and emotions, and coming out the stronger for it.

Sex is one thing; gender identity is another.

I won’t dissect every single thing JKR wrote in her essay, but I will just say this: her comments regarding autistic girls are extremely tone deaf and she does not speak for those with autism. I’m going to be honest and admit something here I haven’t before: I have not been diagnosed with autism or aspergers but I AM currently on the waiting list to see someone who COULD diagnose me. Apparently I show signs of a potential diagnosis, so...we’ll have to see. But I have friends who are autistic, and they’re disgusted by JKR trying to use them to support her TERF arguments. Autistic and other neurodivergent people are absolutely capable of making decisions and are NOT people who need to be babied or have their hands held, to be told who they are. It’s incredibly ableist of JK Rowling frankly.

I would also like to point out... I’ve seen people saying “but she doesn’t hate autistic people, Newt is autistic!!!” - yes, but JKR didn’t write him as autistic. Eddie Redmayne chose to play Newt as autistic - JK Rowling didn’t do shit.

It’s also time that I acknowledge that both Potter and Beasts inevitably hold JKR’s problematic views, and that by denying her ownership of her work, we’re not holding her accountable for the horrible things she’s done. This includes - but is not limited to -:

Anti-Semitic stereotypes in the goblins

Lycanthropy being used as a metaphor for AIDS - an illness that is heavily associated to the gay community, and also there was the panic of the AIDs crisis in the 90s where much misinformation and homophobia was generated and spread because of it.

Adding further to the lycanthropy point, one of the infected individuals - Greyback - is stated to have a sick preference for infecting children. Not only are werewolves tied to harmful gay/AIDs stereotypes, but also to the disgusting and frankly wrong notion that gay people are pedophiles.

The only Asian character is called Cho Chang. Cho Chang. That’s two steps away from outright just calling her “Ching Chong”. It’s not a name an actual Asian person would have.

The Goldstein sisters are probably distantly related to Anthony Goldstein, who JKR confirmed (on Twitter of course) is Jewish, meaning that Tina and Queenie are most likely Jewish too (and Goldstein is a Jewish surname). However, despite the fact that the first FBaWTFT is set DURING Hanukkah in 1926, there’s zero signs of them celebrating or observing it. Maybe that’s more on set design than anything else, but come on - if I, a fanfic writer, can do some research, JK/the crew of a major movie can too!

Adding on from that, gotta love how one of the JEWISH main characters then decides to join the Wizarding world equivalent of Hitler. I already had problems with Queenie’s characterisation in CoG, but that’s the icing on the cake.

POC/Black characters - in both series but since I’m a Beasts blog... Seraphina Picquery, a Black female president serving a term during a MAJOR wizarding world crisis, is severely reduced to have only 3 lines in CoG. Nagini’s only purpose is to be the only friend of Credence, a white man, before he joins Wizard Hitler and abandons her; she’s also an Asian character who we know one day permanently becomes a SNAKE, and who goes on to actually have a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside of her?? And some do see her as his slave, though you could argue that she’s actually the only being that he holds any love or respect for. Leta Lestrange is a half-black woman who is killed/literally sacrifices herself for TWO WHITE MEN, and who’s death was literally confirmed to have been added in last minute.

Also, the whole Lestrange storyline was fucking nasty: white Lestrange Sr imperius-ed a black woman (Yusuf Kama’s mother), raped her, and she then died in childbirth. I’m sorry, what the fuck??

In Harry Potter, Seamus is a terrible stereotype of an Irish person - he likes to blow things up. Look up the IRA and their bombings. Fucking Irish stereotype. As someone with Irish grandparents and who is proud of their Irish heritage, this really pisses me off.

Let’s not forget the whole Native American cultural appropriation. That truly speaks for itself.

So here is where I speak candidly to everyone who follows me and/or sees this post. While Beasts is no longer my No. 1 fandom these days, it and Potter still hold a huge piece of my heart. I have 5 wizarding world tattoos, so much merchandise, and I can safely say that being a fan of both series has shaped me as a person. Both of those series helped me get through the darkest days of my life, including bullying at school, my Nan passing away, and my mental health struggles.

This is why what’s happened has impacted me so much and broken my heart. For me, it feels like it’s tainted now because of Jo and her views. I know that we should separate the art from the artist, but when her views are so clearly woven into the very fabric of the Wizarding world, it’s a huge problem.

Here’s another part of the dilemma - I do not wish for the Beasts films to be cancelled. I’m well aware that the *cough* people who dislike me will say I’m trying to be negative, trying to boycott the series blah blah blah, but that’s truly the last thing I want. I still love the story, the characters, the soundtrack, and I want to know how it ends, if only for my own piece of mind. It’s also important to add that by boycotting Beasts, it’s also harming the hard working thousands of others who worked on the films: the cast, the crew, the extras, the musicians, etc., not to mention the fans who actually are invested in the series and have taken solace in it. It’s not fair for them to all suffer over the actions of one TERF.

This is one of my biggest worries, however: the Fantastic Beasts films do NOT have a good reputation as it is. The second film was boycotted by some due to Depp, and now there’s talk of people boycotting number 3 because of JK Rowling. Lots of people already talk hatred about it, and this will only fire that hatred up even more.

There’s also talk of Eddie Redmayne potentially being kicked from the franchise due to a “leak” that he doesn’t want to work with JKR anymore, but this could be sensationalist news reporting. But if it came down to it, I can honestly say that I would rather continue to have Eddie play Newt than keep JKR as a writer. Eddie has done more for Newt than even JKR has, and if he goes, then that will be the last straw for me within the fandom. That will be when I take a sharp exit out, sell my FB merch and have my tattoos covered.

To add, the Fantastic Beasts scripts are...not great. Or, at least, what we saw on-screen wasn’t. Maybe that’s David Yates being the literal worst (fuck you, Yates, you suck) and cutting all the parts with strong female characters, but I honestly don’t think that JKR can write screenplays well at all. I think she’s clearly better at writing books, and that’s fine - books obviously allow for more time to explore characters and story/plot arcs etc, and film scripts offer way less of those chances. I don’t think screenplays allow her to write what she needs to in order to tell the story she wants to, hence why CoG was kind of a hot mess. So maybe it’s just that she’s not suited for screenplays and should stick to books.

Honestly, I kind of just wish that WB would hire another person to finish writing the Fantastic Beasts movies - obviously they’d have to keep JKR on board to tell them the actual plot, but get someone who can actually write screenplays and not be problematic to write them.

By now I’ve gone on long enough that I’ve forgotten my original intent while writing this, so I’ll try to sum up and end now. In short, I am extremely disappointed in JK Rowling and do not support her or her views any longer.

I don’t know how any of you guys are feeling but I would be interested to hear other people’s thoughts, especially other Fantastic Beasts fans. I want to also add that, as always, my DMs and inbox are always open - if not here, then always at @alwaysahiccupandastrid where I’m more active nowadays.

Finally, you guys don’t need me - a white cis woman - to tell you this but you’re all valid and magical and fuck JK Rowling. Her characters would all be ashamed of her, and the characters we grew up with would not stand for the bigotry and vile hatred she spreads under the guise of ““protecting women””. Several of the amazing actors from Potter and Beasts have spoken out against her and her tweets: Daniel Radcliffe, Emma Watson, Bonnie Wright, Katie Leung, Chris Rankin, Eddie Redmayne. Some have been...less inspiring (Tom Felton, Evanna Lynch, looking at you two 👀)

I’m sending love to everyone right now. I wish I could say something more useful but I’ve spoken enough - I’ve made my opinion clear. I love you all, please stay safe.

Academic Dishonesty 2/7 (Witney) -Marion

Summary: Willam and Courtney met during their first semester at college, and have fallen into a bit of a routine since then. The only thing that could fuck this up would be catching feelings. Friends with Benefits to Lovers AU. A/N: I forgot to mention last time, but the ever lovely Freyja beta’d both the first chapter and this one! If you’ve got anything to say about this fic, feel free to come talk to me over at @aqmarion!

Willam wasn’t sure what she had done wrong. One minute, she’s getting dressed up and trying to decide whether or not to suggest they grab something to eat off campus (a date? She wasn’t sure she’d be willing to say the word before Courtney, but she wouldn’t deny that that had been her hope), and the next minute she was being told that they weren’t going to be spending time with each other this week. She hadn’t known what to say or do with her evening, now that it’s suddenly devoid of her regular time spent with Courtney.

She had considered texting, asking if maybe there was some other time that Courtney was free, maybe they could do something Saturday or get lunch on Tuesday or something, anything, but she held back. Courtney had been the one to put this routine into place to begin with, and Willam wouldn’t be the one to break it, especially if Courtney had been the one to cancel.

She did text in the end, but not about seeing each other any sooner - no, she demanded attention, but she wouldn’t beg for it. Tuesday afternoon she sent off a short message. They’re playing a movie in the student center Thursday, wanna see it together?

Willam waited for a response. Courtney wasn’t in class, Willam knew that she wasn’t in class. They had discovered early in January that they had identical schedules - not the same classes, but the same times. It was nice, they had discovered, to have someone to complain to that couldn’t counter with the fact that they had an earlier morning on Mondays or had a lab that ran until 10 at night on Thursdays.

Courtney wasn’t in class, but she wasn’t responding.

If Willam left her phone on the table screen up as she skimmed her notes from the day’s classes, checking every few minutes just in case she missed the notification, until she finally received a response 32 minutes later - give or take - she wouldn’t admit to it.

Sure, sounds good!

She shouldn’t overthink how long it took for Courtney to respond. Just because she took longer than usual to respond not long after skipping out on their time together didn’t mean that there was anything worth overthinking about. Courtney didn’t need to be at the forefront of her mind until this had all blown over.

   ***

When Courtney dropped by Wednesday to pick up the notebook, Willam almost invited her in. Almost. In the end, she decided against it. She still wasn’t sure where they stood, and she honestly wasn’t expecting Courtney to pick up the notebook this week. It’s not like Courtney had forgotten their plans last week and had accidentally double booked herself, she was meticulously organized and they’d had this routine down for months.

She didn’t expect to have Courtney’s attention outside of Thursday evenings, but she hadn’t thought an evening a week was too much to ask. Of course, she would like more time with Courtney, but what excuse did she have to ask for it?

   ***

Thursday evening, they had decided to meet at the student center rather than walk over together. Something about Courtney already being on that side of campus. At least they’d have no choice but to walk back together as long as Courtney didn’t find some reason or another to leave her behind again. Willam shook herself out of it. She had other friends, it wasn’t like she’d be lonely without Courtney, and finding someone else to be her go to hook up wouldn’t be that hard, either. But the thought of Courtney wanting to avoid her made her stomach churn. Had she done something wrong? Courtney was normally so quick to call her out that she couldn’t imagine going this long without being told what she had done and how she could make it better.

When she finally saw Courtney, the other girl’s face lit up. So maybe she hadn’t fucked up so badly. She felt herself return the smile.

”Hey,” she said as Courtney started shoving things off the table in front of her into her bag. It was clear that Courtney hadn’t gone back to her room to touch up. She didn’t look bad, she never looked bad, but her makeup was minimal and her clothes looked even more comfortable than what she normally wore on their evenings together. Her hair was down, a bit tangled from the day, and Willam couldn’t help but think that maybe there was some truth to the people that thought low effort and breathtaking could coexist.

Unlike Courtney, Willam had made sure to make her way back to her room to freshen up. She never left her room without being proud of how she looked, but tonight deserved more effort than what she had done in the morning. Courtney had seen her look less than perfect before, but this wasn’t just hanging out in a lounge in their dorm. Tight jeans and a band t-shirt might have been good enough for her classmates, but she couldn’t make her move without looking her best. A dress that she knew Courtney thought she looked good in, her favorite pair of matching heels, a touch up to her makeup and that matching blue set of lingerie that always got Courtney’s attention felt more correct for the occasion. Even if they didn’t leave the night any further along than they had been two weeks ago, Willam wanted to look her best when her dress hit the floor.

Willam hadn’t really paid much attention to what movie had been playing tonight. The movies presented by Student Life weekly happened on Fridays, not Thursdays. This one was being shown by some group or another on campus. It was about social justice or environmentalism or maybe how they overlapped? She hadn’t bothered to look at the flier for longer than it took to register that it was something that she thought Courtney would be interested in, and that it could be her excuse to see Courtney even if the other girl was having second thoughts about their normal routine. They could exist outside of their routine, in any way that Courtney wanted, as long as they did it together.

Willam had known that the movie wasn’t being put on by Student Life, but what she hadn’t realized was that it wouldn’t be happening in the auditorium with theater-like seats. It was happening in a lecture hall, with desks.

Being in a room with seats that weren’t desks wasn’t necessarily an important aspect of her plan, but as she squeezed into one next to Courtney, she began to feel like maybe they should have been. Cuddling in the auditorium wouldn’t have exactly been comfortable, but now it felt as though there was a chasm between them, and though it only spanned a few more inches than in the other room, the little pod-like structure didn’t help. She could do this, though. She knew she could. She wasn’t going to let a fucking room change stand between her and making a move.

As the lights went down and the movie began to play, Willam resigned herself to the fact that the set up would stop her from her planned attempt at cuddling. She couldn’t make a move and she couldn’t go on her phone without someone (notably, Courtney) noticing, so she settled for watching the movie. Maybe she had managed to choose something interesting.

   ***

Maybe a documentary on education in prisons wasn’t the most seductive option out there. The list of movies that could make a better first date that Willam could think of wasn’t exactly short. But they had sat through it and Courtney was walking back with her. The way she was talking, it seemed as though she had intentions to join Willam in her room. So maybe it wasn’t the worst choice.

As they rode the elevator to the third floor (there was a lot Willam was willing to do in her favorite pumps, but climbing flights of stairs wasn’t high on the list), Willam felt happiness swell in her chest. Even if tonight was just homework and fucking or homework and talking or even just a few more hours of being in the same room, she’d be happy. She hadn’t lost Courtney, not yet.

Once in her room, Willam looked at Courtney. “Hey Court,” she said, her heart fluttering as the other girl turned towards her. This was it. Now was the time. She hadn’t been able to flirt earlier, but now she could say it. She just needed to find the words and she had a shot at not just being Courtney’s fuck buddy.

“Yeah?” Courtney’s eyes were shining. She looked so happy. What if this was what she wanted? What if asking for more would just upset her? Was she willing to fuck this all up just because she had caught feelings? Could the reason Courtney had skipped out on her last week be because she could tell that Willam wanted more and was uncomfortable because of it?

“Your ass looks great in those leggings.”

SkyFire 2: Chapter 10

The End of Summer: August 2016

Word count: 2k

SkyFire 2 MASTERLIST

>Instagram posts

Aurora was sitting in the studio with Harry and his band when her phone vibrated in her pocket. She pulled it out, scrolling through the email before placing it face down on the coffee table in front of her. Harry watched out of the corner of his eye as she kept glancing back at her phone every few minutes, completely distracted from the conversations swirling around her. After about 20 minutes he watched as she picked her phone up again, her brow furrowed as she read something, and she stood up, excusing herself from the room. He waited half an hour before he started to worry and also excused himself from the room. JARVIS informed him she was still on the floor, and he found her sitting in her art studio, a sketchbook open on her lap, her head bowed over it as she worked away.

“Everything ok, love?” Harry asked, sitting down beside her.

Her head snapped up, not having heard him come in. “Yeah,” she smiled. “Sorry just got an idea and had to get it down.”

“What is it?”

“Columbia just sent out an email and announced they want a student to paint a mural for the one year anniversary,” she explained. “Just kind of couldn’t get it out of my head.”

Harry could see the excitement on her face, her eyes alight with passion and creativity. He smiled softly, kissing her temple before he stood up. “I’ll leave you too it then,” he said before heading back to the recording studio.

Aurora continued working on her concept sketches for the next few days before sending them off to the student committee organising the mural.

xXx

While she waited to hear if her design would be selected, she received an unexpected call from the 3 members of Rascal Flatts. She had spoken to them a couple of times in the last year; first apologising for not being able to perform with them in the wake of the shooting and then again when they let her know they were holding off on releasing their next album, deciding that they wanted to tour the last album a bit more first.

“Hi Joe!” she said when she answered the call.

“Hey Aurora,” Joe replied. “You’ve got all three of us on speaker. How have you been honey?”

“Hi everyone,” she chuckled. “I’m really good thanks.”

“Great to hear. So, the reason we’re calling is to let you know that we’re finally releasing the album in October.”

“Ahh, that’s so exciting!”

“It is, yeah. We’re really looking forward to it and we were wondering how you’d feel about the CMAs this year. I know things didn’t pan out right for last year, but we’d really love to get on stage with you, but only if you feel ready.”

“Oh wow,” Rori gasped. “That sounds incredible guys, I’m honoured. I’ve been getting back in the studio over the summer and I actually do feel like I’m ready to jump back in. I’m getting my first prosthesis fitted next week so I should be good to go by November.”

“Fantastic!” Gary said. “We’ll send through all the details when we get closer to the day but you’ll probably have to come out a few days before so we can rehearse.”

“Can do,” she promised. “I’ll keep that whole week clear, just in case.”

“Great, we’ll see you then.”

xXx

Ever since she’d submitted her concept sketches for the Columbia mural, Aurora hadn’t been able to get the idea out of her head, so while she waited for the decision to be made she had a large canvas delivered to the tower and once it arrived she set to work. In her mind she told herself that if she was selected to paint the mural then the canvas would just be a more detailed concept work, but if she wasn’t selected at least her idea would still exist in this smaller format. She’d already blocked in the background and sketched out the figures the previous day, so she was getting started on the school’s mascot at the centre of the piece which was a lion kneeling to place a wreath of roses on the ground in front of it.

“Sorry to interrupt,” Harry said as he stepped into the room, drawing her attention away from the canvas. “Lou’s on the phone and he wants to talk bachelor and bachelorette parties.”

“Hi Lou!” Rori greeted as Harry held out his phone between the two of them.

“Hey Rors,” Louis replied, his voice playing through the speakers. “So, I was just explaining to H that Gemma and I have been putting our heads together and we’ve come up with an idea. I figured neither of you were going to be interested in the traditional alcohol fuelled partying with strippers and given the mixed gender parties, Gem and I thought we could maybe to a combined thing, rent out and place and all go away for the long weekend as a group.”

“I love that idea,” Aurora replied. “What did you guys have in mind?”

“There’s a great 3 bedroom cottage out in the Cotswolds,” Louis said, “and there’s a day spa in the nearest town for you girls.”

“We’re in,” Harry smiled. “You guys thought about when?”

“Well Cheryl’s due early March so Liam’s asked for us to do it before February and between Niall and Ella January is out too. It’s coming up quick but early November works for everyone if it works for you.”

“I’m going to the CMAs on the 3rd, so maybe the 2nd weekend in November?” Aurora offered, looking at Harry questioningly. He nodded that that weekend would work for him and Louis agreed that the cottage they’d found was available.

“Alright, leave it with me and Gem and we’ll take care of everything.”

“Thanks Lou,” Rori replied. “You’re the best Man of Honour.”

“I take my position very seriously,” he laughed. “Anyway, enjoy the rest of your day guys. I’ll talk to you later.”

xXx

“Aurora, Mr Styles is requesting you join him the studio when you are available,” JARVIS announced one afternoon in late August. She packed up her paints, cleaned her brushes and then headed down the hall towards the recording studio, surprised to find the band gone for the day and Harry waiting inside alone.

“Hey babe,” she greeted. “JARVIS said you needed me?”

“Yeah,” Harry replied. He smiled softly but Rori thought that he was acting a little odd. “I wrote a song,” he said hesitantly.

“I’m shocked,” Rori laughed, her giggles dying on her lips once Harry’s nervous expression fully registered in her head. “What’s it about?”

“You,” he replied. “No one’s heard it yet and it needs polishing but if you don’t like it, no one ever hears it.”

“You’re making me nervous H,” Rori said. “You’ve never been scared to show me something before” They stared at each other for a few minutes too long. “Just play it Harry.”

He mumbled his agreement, cueing up the recording on his phone and pressing play. She reached out and took his hand as it played.

 Choose your words 'cause there's no antidote

 For this curse

 Oh, what's it waiting for?

 Must this hurt you just before you go?

 Oh, tell me something I don't already know

 Oh, tell me something I don't already know

 Brooklyn saw me, empty at the news

 There's no water inside this swimming pool

 Almost over, had enough from you

 And I've been praying, I never did before

 Understand I'm talking to the walls

 I've been praying ever since New York

 Oh, tell me something I don't already know

“Harry,” Rori whispered as the recording petered out, her cheeks damp from the silent tears rolling down her face. Harry finally lifted his head, looking at his fiancé for the first time since pressing play. His eyes widened when he saw the tears in her eyes, reaching out to wipe them away with the pads of his thumbs.

“I’m so sorry baby,” he murmured, “I’m so sorry I shouldn’t have written about that. Forget it. I’m gonna scrap it.”

“Don’t you dare,” she told him. “It’s beautiful.”

“You really like it?” he asked.

“I love it Harry. It just hurts to remember what I put you through last year.”

“You didn’t do anything love,” Harry promised. “Just never wanna lose you.”

“I’m not going anywhere,” she replied softly, leaning forward to kiss him. He quickly deepened the kiss and within a few minutes she had her right hand in his hair as she sat in his lap, her thighs straddling his hips. “I love you so much,” she murmured against his lips.

xXx

In the last days of August, Ben returned to the tower and Aurora finally slipped her new prosthesis onto what remained of her left forearm. After almost an entire year of feeling broken, or incomplete, the feeling of slipping on the prosthetic and watching as the fingers clenched and unfurled was euphoric. Harry was by her side of course, but so were Steve, Tony and Peter, her odd little family she never would have seen coming when she was growing up. They all watched on as silent tears streaked down her face, a huge grin ensuring none of them worried as she cried. She turned her hand over and back again, marvelling at the way the metal moved, much like Bucky’s arm did, almost as if there were real muscles below the surface, shifting so naturally. She hugged Peter first, surprising the teenager.

“Thank you, Pete,” she whispered. “I know how hard you worked on this.”

“You really don’t have to thank me,” Peter replied. “I just wanted to help; you know? Your dad did all the work really.”

“Hush,” she joked. “Just take the damn compliment.”

Peter laughed in response, giving her one last squeeze before letting her go so that she could hug her parents.

Ben and Tony both bent over the hand, the former assessing the fit and Aurora’s comfort, while the later focused on the data readouts on his tablet, watching as she continued to move the prosthetic and test it’s capabilities now that it was on her arm instead of laying on the table.

As Ben was finishing up and saying his goodbyes to everyone, a notification popped up on Aurora’s phone. Harry passed it to her, and she took great joy in reaching for it with her left hand. His matching smile told her that he knew exactly what she was thinking. Her smile dropped when she turned her gaze to the screen, seeing an email from the Student Union. She felt her nervousness as she opened the email and started reading.

Hello Aurora,

First of all, let me begin by thanking you for submitting your concept sketches for the proposed memorial mural for the quad. We were all very excited to see your submission and are excited to have you return to participating in the Columbia community. We would like to congratulate you as the winning submission and invite you to campus to complete the mural. We here at CUSU loved the way you incorporated our guidelines of including Columbia’s mascot while also paying tribute to the first responders and using the candles to honour everyone we lost was a beautiful element of the design. We would like to have the piece completed by the anniversary on September 29th so please feel free to start as soon as you would like in order to achieve this deadline. Please don’t hesitate to contact me if you have any further questions.

Kind Regards,

Caitlyn Walsh

Columbia University Student Union President.

“Oh my god! Harry, I got it. I got accepted to paint the memorial mural.”

“Knew you could do it baby!” He pulled her into a hug, holding her tightly and kissing her cheek.

“Congratulations bug,” Steve added, patting her shoulder. “No one better suited for the job.”

“I’m pretty sure they picked me for the publicity,” Aurora admitted when Harry finally let her go. “I don’t really care though. If my name gets more people talking about gun reform, then I’ll exploit that as much as I can. I really want to get more involved in that side of things and just make sure what happened to us doesn’t happen to anyone else.”

NEXT CHAPTER

OR CONTINUE READING ON AO3

The Intensity of a Heartache: It has been over a year since I have experienced a heartache that made me feel like shards of glass pierced through my left ventricle. I say left ventricle because the left ventricle is a part of the heart that is known to pump oxygen rich blood through the aortic valve and then to the rest of the body. That is how this heartache felt like. It was like someone destroyed that, and as the blood is no longer being pumped throughout my body, I could feel my heart gradually weaken and then ultimately fall into a state of paralysis. I felt numb inside. And this all happened from a guy. A guy that I handed my heart on a silver platter to, only to have him dissect every secret and every truth until it was of no longer of use to him. I know I’m using a lot of biological metaphors but it is because I want to address the extent of this pain. I am only going through these measures to explain to you because it is the kind of pain that you could not imagine to feel unless it happened to you. Unless you went through it the same way as I did. It all started off when I was attending religious school and my friend introduced me to this guy who she decided to lie about a secret admirer that is after him. My friend requested I play the nonexistent admirer for the sake of their friendship to not fall apart, and so I did. I don’t remember why I did, but I know now, that if I had even a glimpse of what that decision would have led me to back then, I would have instantly refused without giving it a second thought. That being said, I accepted the role and I went along with the play. I was never looking for a friendship, let alone a relationship, but life as usual, took a turn. One year later, this person not only became someone that defined the love I felt, but he was my bestfriend. I couldn’t remember what my life was like before him, but I definitely knew that it was never as great as it was with him in it. Throughout my life, I never let anyone truly get to know, therefore, they never really truly saw me. And I was okay with that, because I knew the moment you let someone truly know you, is the moment you’ve risked your entire worth and happiness altogether. I had bestfriends growing up, but there was always a side of me that I concealed for the sake of protecting myself and my heart. Five blissful years later, things began to feel different. The effort that was always given was slowly starting to disappear. The love that was always visible in his eyes began to fade away. It was only then, I mustered up the courage to question whether or not his feelings still exist for me. I remember exactly how the conversation went, “Did you lose feelings for me?”, I said. “Lol it’s not that serious”, he said. “Did you?”, I asked. “Yes”, he said. In that moment, that “yes” was enough to create a deep wound to my soul. At that moment, tears welled up in my eyes, and I only pleaded inside that it was not true..that I was dreaming..please..let me be dreaming. For days after that, I cried myself to sleep every night. I would scroll through social media, waiting on an apology of some sort or just anything that could indicate that he did not mean it. That I still meant everything to him. That I’m still the love of his life and I’m still his forever. This all sounds very cliche, I am well aware, and I cringed a little bit writing this but that is how it played out. In July of summer 2019, I met him for the last time. We agreed that we would go our separate ways and be on good terms when we do so. As our date ended, and I was exiting his car to head to mine, he gripped my wrist and I turned around. Suddenly, for that moment, he had that sparkle in his eyes. He had this look in his eyes that told me that deep inside, he is still in love with me. I believed it and it gave me hope. I engraved that hope onto the chambers of my heart and preserved it for a long time. As we gazed into each other’s eyes, he asked me, “Can I have a last hug? I’m really going to miss you”. I immediately hugged him and we held onto each other for ten long seconds. It’s going to seem very lame as I say this next part, but since then, I haven’t hugged anyone. The reason being is because I am afraid once I do, this final moment he and I shared will be remembered and trigger my pain. So I just greet people the usual way, a handshake or a fist bump, or just a simple ‘hey’. It was January 2, 2020, when I recieve a notification from him. Instantly, without hesitating, I opened it, excited that he remembered me despite the amount of time that has passed. But this message was worse than the “yes” I had gotten a year ago. This message had me spiraling towards my inevitable downfall. This message revealed that he had begun dating again and he had moved on. I was heartbroken, because throughout the months of his absence, I held onto hope, but this message was enough to demolish the hope that was engraved in me. I kept thinking that I shattered my morals and my values for him. In my religion, you are not allowed to date a guy, let alone be intimate with him. But I let myself do that. I can’t even have the audacity to blame it on him, because I let myself open up to him, and I didn’t even try, at the very least, to protect myself. I relied on the concept of ‘he and I are meant to be together forever’, to justify every wall I let crumble down and every promise I broke. To have sex is not a big deal to people in the modern world today, but, considering the religion I am born into, it was the worst possible thing to commit, next to murder. For days, I couldn’t bear to look in the mirror because all I saw was filth. It sounds harsh to describe it that way, but I felt dirty. I felt that I had lost every part of my modesty and dignity, and I felt worthless. This worthlessness resonated with me for a very long time. Weeks later, I stopped attending lectures and visiting my friends and would constantly ignore my friends calls and messages. I would wake up everyday, and decide that I don’t want to be anywhere except in my bed. It was easy to get away with it because my parents both worked, so they had no idea that I stopped attending my classes. It was only then, my professor whom I’ve built a strong relationship with from the beginning of the year, sent me an email questioning my absence and expressing her concern. I ignored the email. But that didn’t stop her from continously emailing me repeatitively. I finally gave in, and told her that I will return to class next week. And I did. I don’t know how I got myself out of bed that day, but I guess I was tired of being alone..feeling alone. I attended the class of that professor and as I was about to walk out, she announced my name on the mic, requesting that I stay back. For that moment, I was scared. I knew that my grades were all going downhill and I was afraid that I had dissapointed her. But what did I care? I thought that since I felt like a dissapointment so I might as well be one. I approached her podium and I said, “Yes Professor Nick”, She responds, “I’ve noticed you stopped attending lectures, I’ve heard from my colleagues that it is not just my class, so that makes me feel a bit better” I laughed, but didn’t say anything. “Is everything okay?”, she asked. “Yes, don’t worry, everything is fine”, I said. “Sit down”, she immediately said. Shocked that her tone suddenly got intense, I immediately sat down opposite to her. “For a moment, pretend I am not your professor. For a moment, think of me as your friend. A friend with no judgements, only a friend that wants to help” “Nothing is wrong, I swear. I promise I will start getting myself back on track from this week”, I said, completely ignoring what she said. “I have no classes for the rest of the day, so know that I am not afraid to hold you in contempt”, she says as she smirks. I admired her sense of humor so I smirked back, but I remained silent. “As an English professor, I am going to try a different approach. If you write what you honestly feel right now, if you pour out everything that has been going in your life right now onto this piece of paper I am giving you, I will deduct your failed tests and assignments from your final grade.” I sat there, shocked. I was desperate. I knew that I was failing a few of my courses, including this one, and I knew that if I fell into probation, I would lose my status in Co-op. So I took the paper, and I wrote everything out. Every pain, every event, everything. By the time I finished writing, it was 9PM, and I got up from my seat and gave in the paper and exited class. No words were exchanged between the professor and I, except a friendly nod. My mom was waiting for me outside the building, so as I was walking towards the car, I felt my heart feel a little lighter. I think it was all the feelings that I had bottled up, which I poured out onto the paper, that made me feel like that, but all I knew in that moment, is I felt better than I had in six weeks. I have Professor Nick to thank her for that, because the next day, I visited her during office hours, thanking her for the opportunity. She only responded with a lecture that consisted of my potential and how much determination she sees in me, and how much admiration she has for my strength. She concluded saying, no one should have the power to depict your happiness. You are independent, intelligent and strong, and no one should have the power to strip you of that. She said that pain should never be let to define us, only meant to make us stronger and wiser. I believed every word she said, and I’ve reminded myself of her words everyday to this day. From that day on, I began to approach my other professors, begging them for opportunities to revive my mark back. Because every one of them knew me and recognized the dedication I had towards their classes, they provided me with some leniency. By the end of the semester, I achieved an overall grade GPA of 3.8 and I could not have been more proud. It made me realize the strength I have and the potential I possess in achieving my goals and overall success. I finally bought myself some closure and reassessed my future and what I intend to gain from it. Once I did that, I reassured myself that, at the end of the day, my life lies in the hands of God and I no longer doubted my self worth once I forgave myself and put my trust in the Most High. At this moment in my life, I can tell you that I am content. I have no guilt or burden weighing me down and life could not be better. At times, I collapse back into a state of depression, but I’ve learned to cope with it in healthier ways. I have only to thank my friends and my teachers and Professor Nick for igniting the hope that I thought I had lost.

autobiography I had to write for an assignment

Rec Tag

Rules: It’s time to love yourselves! Choose your 5 favorite works you created in the past year (fics, art, edits, etc.) & link them below to reflect on the amazing things you brought into the world in 2019. Tag as many writers/artists/etc. as you want so we can spread the love & link each other to awesome works!

I was tagged by my partner in crime @extasiswings who is awful because she knows I’m terrible at praising myself but I will try my best.

Edit: I just went back through my notifications and saw that @koortega tagged me as well, bless you darling. Your gifsets and fanvids have inspired my fics deeply so. You’re the best.

Holy shit I wrote a lot in 2019. And I’m actually proud of pretty much everything - I took on a lot of challenging writing endeavors over the past year, and I think I managed to actually pull them all off. While I kind of beat myself up a little for focusing so much on fanfic and not my original novels, I think I needed this year of fanfic to really finish mastering my craft, come into my own, and prove to myself that yes, I can write this, whatever “this” might be. Not to mention that 2019 was a shitty fucking year otherwise, and I needed a goddamn distraction. So, without further ado, in no particular order...

1. the thing with shadows is (they come from light, from somewhere) (Timeless)

Jesus H. Christ this was a fic and a half. And its sequel was even longer. This fic is literally known as “the Garcy BDSM fic” and frankly that’s accurate. It started out as a joke between myself and a couple friends - “hey wouldn’t it be funny if” - and then I fucking played myself and actually wrote this 90k word monster. I’m really proud of it because it’s hard to take a fic that’s set in a BDSM club where there’s sex every chapter and actually keep the sex fresh and interesting each time, and it’s hard to weave a solid plot and character arcs into a fic that’s so focused on smut. It’s one of my most popular fics and I think it’s earned that popularity. I actually got a lot of asks and messages because of this fic from people asking me for advice and information on BDSM, kink, and sexuality/sexual orientation, so I like to think it had a positive impact that way as well, educating people on what BDSM and kink is and how it actually works. So yeah, I’m proud of this one.

2. whispers like poetry (Timeless)

Okay so technically this one was started on Christmas Day of 2018 but it was written all throughout 2019 so it counts. What began as a back and forth with @extasiswings over what would’ve happened if Lucy and Flynn had started fucking in season one turned into a complete monster of a fic where nobody was talking about their goddamn feelings for 90k words. As frustrated as we got with our beloved characters, it was an amazing and joyful experience to work with her. She’s a brilliant writer and understands the characters better than I think just about anyone (including the show writers, sorry not sorry) and I loved every minute of writing this. And I think the final product turned out pretty damn good.

3. Richie Tozier: Small Town Trash (IT 2019)

This one baaarely squeaks by since it was published December 30th but hey, that’s still 2019! I worked on it off and on throughout the month and was really fucking pleased with the result. I’m autistic and so I grew up with a sense of humor that, shall we say, did not vibe with the humor of others. I didn’t usually get jokes. I couldn’t tell when someone was kidding or was serious. I wasn’t considered funny - in fact I’ve lost track of how many times I would make a joke and the whole room would fall into awkward silence as a result. So to write something not only funny, but stand up? Jesus Christ, what was I thinking? But it worked. It really, really worked. People loved it. I actually managed to be funny. Go me.

4. The Void is Open (Timeless)

I thought this fic was gonna be like. 50k max. Ha. Ha ha. Hoo boy. I really need to stop underestimating how long it takes the flaming dumpster trio to get their emotional shit sorted. This fic was based on the very painful idea, “what if Flynn had actually shot John Rittenhouse in episode ten?” Exploring the consequences of that both emotionally for Flynn and literally for Lucy, who is erased from existence as a result, was a lot of fun. Painful, but like. I enjoyed it. I joked that this fic started a new fanfiction genre called “domestic angst” and I stand by that term. This is domestic angst. And I think I did a really good job with exploring the fallout from this one, single action.

5. Love You Like a Killer (I Want to Make Your Heart Stop) (Timeless)

Holy shit. This fic didn’t get wrapped up until the end of January in 2020 but I started it in September of 2019 - and it turned into a monster. It’s my longest fic ever, at over 200k words, surpassing even my smut collection. I really underestimated the myriad of plot threads I had going on with this one. I also underestimated how dark it was going to get. I mean, it’s a Castle AU, how bad could it be, right? ...right? Ha ha. *ahem* While the main pairing for this is Garcyatt, this fanfic was seriously an ensemble work in every sense of the word. Everyone got character arcs and side plots, and I had a lot of work balancing the murder mystery cases I was taking from Castle with the emotional arcs of the Timeless characters. I didn’t plan on this fanfic being my final Timeless work, but I think it’s fitting, because while it’s not necessarily my best work (I think Confidence Trick really earns that title) or people’s favorite work (see: Garcy BDSM fic), it’s the largest most complex single fic I’ve ever done.

Honorable mentions include If They’re Out of Lifejackets, Grab a Friend which was a fanfic of @qqueenofhades brilliant, absolutely showstopping (or should I say show-continuing) @timeless-season-four project, and Love is Bright but Casts a Shadow (Its Name is Grief) which had to wear a lot of hats since it’s a) the prequel to my magnum opus, but b) has to be read last and c) fit not only the canon seasons one and two but also d) @koortega’s fantastic video that inspired it.

Tagging @captainofthefallen @phoenixwrites @thestraggletag @nothingeverlost and anyone else who would like to! Seriously if you want to do this, claim me as your tagger! You’re all fantastic creators, praise yourselves!

Title: Find Balance [in your life] Summary: Who knew Steven Lim could inspire Ryan to go home to his two favorite people?

Or: Ryan Bergara works too hard and neglects what’s important, but his partners welcome him home anyway.

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21983251

Sara 💓: The bed is cold without you.

Ryan glanced at his phone and did a double take when he saw it was a text from his group chat with Shane and Sara. He picked up his phone with shaking hands, the coffee he just finished still rushing through his veins, and opened the text.

When was the last time he saw Sara? Shane, he saw almost every day, but Sara? He hadn’t slept at their place since they announced the launch of Watcher, and that was weeks ago. He slept at his much closer house, or as of late, on the floor of the office for cat naps.

He’d been working nonstop on getting videos edited, checking Instagram, Snapchat, YouTube, and Twitter, meeting with sponsors and completing paperwork; creating their own channel was a never ending job.

Shane’s been working from home for almost a week and a half due to a minor disagreement between them (first big fight since he began dating Shane and Sara, and Ryan couldn’t even remember what it was about, so he tripled his workload instead of dealing with it) and Steven left for the night a few minutes ago, so Ryan was alone, frantically working on edits and posts that could probably wait until Monday.

His thumbs hovered over the keyboard, hesitating. It was already 9:53, and if he could just finish this final edit, he might be able to leave and sleep in his own bed by 1:00AM before coming back to the office bright and early on a Saturday to try and get ahead. “Sorry,” he started to type. “Work calls.” He almost hit send when he got a notification that Steven posted a video on Instagram.

He watched the video. It was Steven in that very office, and Ryan must’ve been making coffee when he made it, because his workstation was dark and empty.

It was just Steven, sitting in a chair in an empty room, talking. But what he had to say was more inspirational than Ryan was expecting. Taking care of yourself, fostering your relationships, finding hobbies, leaving work when the temptation is there to keep working.

Ryan felt like he couldn’t breathe, one phrase echoing inside his head: “My identity doesn’t only live in my work.” He looked around his small space, at his open laptop and desktop, at the lack of pictures, doodles, little knick knacks that would usually surround him as he worked. Plain white. And he knew that they were moving to an even bigger office soon, but that didn’t stop Steven or Shane from decorating their small space.

He pushed himself away from his desk, ducking his head between his knees. Anxiety rippled through his body. How much has Watcher taken over my life?

After breathing and waiting for the wave of nausea to leave, he opened his texts and flinched at what he almost texted Sara. “God, what a fucking fool,” he whispered as he erased what he typed and simply wrote, “I’m coming home.” He hoped that not only would Sara welcome him this late, but that whatever happened between him and Shane could be squashed as well. “Wishful thinking,” Ryan said, pulling himself back to his desk. “I don’t even know what we fought about.”

He saved what he was working on, turned off all the tech in the small office that they were temporarily occupying, and glanced at the board. 80,000 subscribers. 20,000 away from the goal their sponsors were expecting to be met by January 10th. How to get 20,000 over a holiday…

“Stop,” Ryan said out loud. “Business can wait until Monday. Sara is waiting for you, and maybe Shane too.”

He put on his backpack, turned off the lights, and made his way to the elevator, waving to the security guard who was stationed on the floor. With laser focus, Ryan pressed the down button, got on the elevator, and went to the parking garage beneath the building.

Keys in hand, Ryan ran to his car. The quicker he got in his car, the less likely he was gonna turn around and go back to work. He blasted music in his car, a mix of local LA rappers and the metal of his youth, to make sure he stayed awake, and then he made his way to Shane and Sara’s apartment.

Traffic was terrible, as always, and he made it to their apartment a little after eleven. He parked his car in the last available parking spot and then grabbed his bag, hesitating for a moment. He looked at his phone and saw that Sara responded.

Sara 💓: I’ll reheat a snack for you.

He didn’t know what to say. How could he thank her when he was being the worst? He took a shuddering breath and opened his car door.

 It’s now or never.

He had keys to their apartment, so he didn’t waste time by knocking on the door. He just unlocked it and stepped inside, quietly closing and locking the door behind him. He slipped off his shoes and lined them up with the others that were in the entryway and dropped his bag by Sara’s.

There were few lights on in the apartment. The Christmas tree was lit up, and Ryan saw Obi curled up beneath it, watching him. The light was on in the kitchen, and Ryan went there first. Standing at the microwave was Sara, in an old t-shirt that she usually slept in. She turned and looked at Ryan, and the genuine smile that graced her mouth brought tears to his eyes.

“Hey,” she said softly, as if she could see and feel his fragility. “We had Chinese and we got all your favorites, which you can eat tomorrow.” Just before the microwave beeped, Sara turned and opened it, taking out two egg rolls on a small plate.

Ryan beamed and stepped fully into the kitchen, reached for Sara and kissed her forehead. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

They stood in silence, Sara leaning into Ryan as he devoured the eggrolls, his hands shaking as he consumed something that wasn’t a granola bar or coffee. She had her arm wrapped around his waist and her head resting on his shoulder.

When he was finished, she took the plate from him and washed it and Ryan dried it before putting it back in its place. Then he finally looked at Sara again and blew out a heavy breath. “Shane?” he asked, not sure what he was asking, not sure what he was wanting to know.

“Downstairs, getting some sheets from the dryer.” She pressed a kiss to his shoulder and looked up at him. “You look exhausted.”

“I am exhausted.”

“Bed?”

Ryan shrugged. “I just had coffee and I need to shower and my mind is just running running running—“ Ryan froze when Sara interrupted him with a kiss, sensing he was on his way to a rambling frenzy.

“Shower. Sleepy Time Tea. Bed. I already set out clothes for you in the bathroom.”

“Oh Sara,” he kissed her softly and she sighed against his mouth. “What did I do to deserve you?”

-----

Ryan turned off the water and pulled back the shower curtain just as there was a knock on the unlocked door. “Yeah?” It opened slowly, and there was Shane with a towel folded over his arm.

“Hey,” he said softly, and Ryan smiled, stepped out of the tub and onto the mat.

“Hey.” He reached for the towel that Shane had, but paused when Shane closed the distance, unfolded it, and began gently drying him off with the still warm towel. He must’ve dried it with the sheets. Ryan’s mouth dropped open in surprise, but he found he couldn’t even say anything.

Reverently, Shane made sure that Ryan was dry, starting at his head and moving down, even kneeling at his feet to dry his legs. Once again, Ryan felt fragile, as if his very core was made of glass. He looked down at Shane, his vision swimming in front of him.

“I’m sorry,” he gasped, needing to apologize, needing to say something, “I’m sorry I’ve been so impatient and stressed and I took it out on you.”

Knelt at his feet, Shane looked up at him, and Ryan’s knees trembled as Shane opened his mouth and paused, before saying, “I’m sorry I didn’t try and talk to you sooner.” Shane then pressed his forehead against his hip for a moment, hugging his legs. Ryan shook harder as he ran his fingers through Shane’s hair.

They stayed that way for a few minutes, Ryan trying to stay upright, and Shane holding him. A few tears finally escaped his eyes and he swallowed thickly; Shane just squeezed him tighter. Ryan was thankful Shane didn’t try and talk him through this, giving him a few moments of peace that he didn’t even know he desperately needed.

When Ryan finally stopped sniffling, Shane kissed his hip and pulled away. “Sara made some tea.” His thumbs rubbed soothingly as Ryan still trembled.

“Okay.”

“You think you can drink it?”

“I—I don’t—I don’t know.”

“Let’s try.”

Shane stood up, groaning as his knees popped, but he just smiled and shrugged at Ryan, as if to say, “What can ya do?” He hung the towel up and went to the still open door, pausing as Ryan slipped on pajama pants and a t-shirt. They linked fingers and Ryan followed him to the couch where Sara was nestled in the corner with her own cup, and another one was on the coffee table. Obi had moved from the tree to nestle in Sara’s lap.

Ryan sat down next to Sara, easing himself until he was pressed against her side. Sara cradled her cup in one hand and took Ryan’s in her other. Shane draped a blanket over his lap, and then handed him his tea.

Ryan sipped at the perfect blend of chamomile and vanilla as Shane fiddled with the remotes until a roaring fire appeared on the TV. Ryan grinned; Shane and Sara went absolutely wild for this kind of stuff. When the fire was on, Shane finally settled on the couch, sitting on Ryan’s other side and resting his arm behind him.

Halfway through his tea, as Obi went from Sara’s lap to his and was making biscuits on his stomach, Ryan’s eyes began to close and his head rocked forward.

“Let’s get you to bed, Little Guy,” Shane said softly, collecting his mug. Sara picked up Obi and Ryan stretched and stood up, folding the blanket and leaving it on the couch. Sara took his hand and led him to the bedroom, where it was nice and cool. Obi jumped from Sara’s arm and made his way to his little cat bed in the corner.

“Wanna be in the middle?”

“God, yes,” he said, around another yawn. He crawled onto the bed and Sara pulled the blanket up and over him before getting in on her side and snuggling up to him. The sheets and blanket still held some warmth from the dryer, and Ryan burrowed deeper into the bed, making himself comfortable. He could hear Shane moving around the apartment, turning off lights, the TV, and double checking the door.

Ryan shivered when Sara slipped her hand into his hair and began massaging his scalp. “Ooooh fuuuuuuck,” he swore, his entire body going limp as she giggled. He didn’t even notice Shane coming into the room until he felt warmth at his back and an arm on his waist.

His eyes slid shut and he felt Shane lean over him and kiss Sara, whispering, “Goodnight, babe.” Then he felt Shane’s lips on his own cheek. “Goodnight, Ry-babe.”

Ryan tried to say goodnight, and he must’ve said something because he could hear Sara giggle and he felt Shane’s huff of breath against his cheek, but he was already falling fast asleep, nestled between his two favorite people

The Oath | Ch. 1 - “Discoveries”

Reeling from a bad breakup, Claire finds comfort with a stranger, Jamie Fraser — owner of Fraser & Co. the newest Whisky company in Edinburgh. They share their pain, loss and dreams, after all… it was just supposed to be one night together.

a/n: Hello there! This is a brand new fic I’ve been working on and am so excited to finally share this with everyone! I hope you enjoy and can’t wait for the rest of this story to unfold xx

January 20th, 2019

Claire was running late (as usual), and had just texted Frank to let him know she was on her way home from work. Being promoted to Chief Resident at the Edinburgh Royal Infirmary, while amazing and the highlight of her career thus far, also came with its obvious stress. She had been late more times than she had been early since her new role and while Frank was a forgiving man, Claire knew he could only take so much of her tardiness.

But it’s not like Frank had been perfectly punctual in their entire four year relationship. A history professor at Edinburgh University, Frank Randall had his fair share of late nights grading papers and tutoring students.

A quiet ding came from Claire’s pocket and she pulled it out to check the message.

Frank: No rush

“No rush he says,” Claire muttered under her breath as she wrapped her scarf loosely around her neck. “We’ll see if you’re in the same mood when I get home, shall we?”

Claire had an awful habit of talking to herself and had received her fair share of odd looks on the street and on public transportation. She held her own however, being born and raised in England by strong and loving parents, Claire wasn’t afraid to be herself — strange habits and all.

Edinburgh had become a second home to her after she finished university at Oxford. That’s where she had met Frank who was a teaching assistant in one of her classes. They began dating, taking things slow at first but soon Claire found herself packing her bags and following him to Scotland — a country she had never even been to before.

Call it love, call it a foolish thing to do, but Claire adored Frank and had no regrets about uprooting her life.

Twenty minutes later, Claire unlocked the door to her home, relishing in the warmth as she stomped her snow clad feet on the welcome mat.

“Frank, I’m home!” She called out, but heard no response.

Unbuttoning her brown tweed coat, Claire slid her arms out of it and laid it across the chair in the entryway. How odd. Frank was usually home at this time of day and always called out to her when she entered.

Brushing it off as nothing but good thick walls, Claire strolled into the kitchen to see what Frank was making for dinner. Even odder. There was nothing on the stove — no pots or pans, and no glasses of wine waiting on the counter to welcome her home after a long day.

This wasn’t like Frank to not cook dinner, especially on Fridays, their home date nights. Checking her phone for any missed messages, she saw no new notifications and so she laid her phone out on the counter and resolved to search the house.

“Frank?” She called out his name as she climbed the stairs to their bedroom. If she was being honest with herself, his lack of presence around the house shouldn’t be too out of character… especially recently.

They had been having problems, as most couples do at some point in their relationship. Claire wasn’t too much of a fool in love to admit that Frank had his flaws — as did she. At times, she found herself flinching when he raised his voice above normal volume because the phone company had billed them wrong again. Or when he smashed his fists down on the table angrily whenever Claire had told him about applying for the Chief position at work.

He was always supportive of her dreams, but not when they got in the way of their time as a couple. This was all very understandable — who wouldn’t be upset that their significant other would ultimately be spending less time with them? But Frank had held it over her head… her commitment to her job. Even if he didn’t voice his every thought out loud to her, Claire had felt the iciness in his touch the past couple of months and the greedy way he came to her in the night, spreading her legs and entering her without warning.

She often wondered what her parents would think of Frank if they were still alive. Henry and Julia Beauchamp died in a terrible car accident when she was only fourteen and since then she had been under her Uncle Lamb’s guardianship. Her uncle had been her rock when she lost both her parents, and had encouraged her to follow her dream to become a doctor and save lives — making up for the sheer fact that she wasn’t able to save her parents lives.

The light was on at the end of the hall in their bedroom, and for some reason Claire felt that she needed to be quiet as she padded down the hardwood floor.

“Frank?” She tapped her knuckles softly on the door before pushing it open. “Are you in here, love?”

“In the bathroom, Claire! Just a moment,” came Frank’s muffled voice from behind another closed door to her right.

Looking around the room, Claire noticed that their bedroom was slightly disheveled and wondered what Frank had been doing. He always kept the house in tip top shape, not a chair out of place which frankly annoyed Claire to no end. A home was supposed to be lived in, not simply a shell to hold furniture and things.

Her feet were sore from a long day of speed walking through the hospital hallways and Claire stepped out of her tennis shoes — boring and bland, the kind that were stereotypical for doctors. The sound of running water came from the bathroom and Claire sighed to herself, impatient for Frank to come out.

As she took another look around her room, Claire noticed something sparkle out of the corner of her eye on the nightstand. With her heart racing, Claire glanced at the bathroom door before going over to inspect the sparkly object.

It was an earring. And not one of hers.

In a matter of a few short seconds, Claire’s world turned on its axis. She looked down at the small diamond in her hand and felt hot tears well in her eyes. Her throat was tight and her breath caught in between her ribs like someone had punched her.

She should have known. Frank had been somewhat aloof the past few weeks, his attitude completely shifted from how he used to act. What used to be heated arguments over dinner about her attending another work conference over the weekend, turned into a nod of the head and a “See you on Monday,” farewell.

But he clearly still felt comfortable using her body for pleasure whenever he needed it. Just last night, Frank had kissed the back of her neck sending a chill down her spine. Needing to feel some kind of human comfort from the stress of her hectic week, Claire had rolled over to face him and joined together with him.

Her belly was coiled tight now and she slid her fingers down over her neck, breasts and stomach, fingers trembling at the thought of those same fingers she knew well on another woman.

The bathroom door opened with an ear splitting creak and Claire froze, her back turned away from him.

“Sorry about that darling, I was just in the shower — had a hard day at work,” Frank said and came up behind her, his hands sliding up her back and over her shoulders.

“Don’t touch me,” she whispered and she wondered if he had even heard her. An answering squeeze to the tight knots in her shoulders told her that he hadn’t.

“I said don’t touch me, Frank,” Claire said it a little louder and finally turned around to face him. The sight of his face — the hard lines that decorated his cheeks, the chiseled jaw and brown eyes made her sick now, almost violently so.

“Claire, what’s gotten into you?” He looked at her with almost a scowl, as if it was her that had done something wrong.

Afraid that her words would fail her, she lifted up her fist to Frank and slowly, one finger at a time opened her hand to reveal the diamond earring of his lover.

“Fuck,” he said under bated breath. So it was true.

Claire dropped the traitorous piece of jewelry onto the floor between their feet and stormed for the door. She was jerked back by Frank’s grip on her arm and she whirled around, slapping him with a force so strong her hand stung.

“Jesus, Claire!”

“A hard day at work?!” Claire felt the strength return to her voice as she spoke, and smirked as he rubbed his red cheek. “The only thing that was hard about your day was your cock, Frank.”

“Claire,” he sighed and his hands rested on his hips which were only clad in a towel. “Can we please be civil about this? You must have known, surely—“

“Civil? For fucks sake, Frank!” Claire scoffed and spun on her heel, heading towards the closet to retrieve an overnight bag. Thankfully her best friend, Geillis lived just a few streets over. There was no way Claire could fathom spending another night under this roof.

The fact that Frank wasn’t putting up a fight gave her mixed emotions. On one hand, it made it easy to hate him, but on the other… it only crushed her, making her feel pathetic — like she wasn’t someone worth fighting for.

“Just tell me,” she said seriously as she came back into the room, bag hastily packed. “Do I know her?”

She saw the twitch of his eye and thought she might be sick right there on the carpet.

“You’ve met her a few times,” he confirmed and sat down on the bed. “Her name is Sandy and she works with—“

“Oh spare me the details, please!”

“I’m sorry, Claire. This isn’t exactly how I wanted this to happen.”

Claire looked at him, a feeling of grief for their relationship washing over her, and only felt hatred for this man.

“It isn’t?” She laughed, an almost evil witch sounding laugh. “So you were planning on still sleeping with me while you had your affair? Were you ever planning on telling me?”

“There were conversations,” he mumbled, “Between Sandy and I about ending it.”

“Ending your affair?”

“No,” he said defensively and looked up at her. “About ending our relationship.”

Claire closed her eyes, counted to three, took a deep breath and walked out of the room. There was no use in further discussion with Frank because it wouldn’t be a discussion, only an excuse to make her look like a bigger fool than she already felt.

When she reached the front door, she heard footsteps on the stairs behind her and paused, her hand on the doorknob.

“Claire?”

“Yes?” She said this to the door. Claire wouldn’t spend another minute looking at his face. A face she had loved and spent lazy mornings running her fingertips over. A face that had once looked at her with so much love it was as if she was his whole world.

“You will come back to collect the rest of your things, right?”

“Fuck you, Frank Randall.” She opened the door quickly and slammed it shut behind her, clutching her overnight bag tightly.

As she walked down the street, every step taking her closer to Geillis, she began to look for her phone to tell her friend she was coming over.

“Damn it,” she cursed, her hands franticly searching her jean pockets for her phone. Claire began to shiver in the cold January air and realized that in her haste to get out, she had left her coat on the front chair… along with her phone on the kitchen counter.

There was no way she could return to that house, even if it was to retrieve her phone. Her dignity would not be squashed another time tonight. Instead, Claire wiped away the few frustrated tears that leaked from her eyes and kept walking, only hoping that Geillis was home.

When her trembling hand rang the doorbell and the red headed woman opened the door, Claire’s bottom lip shook and she collapsed into her open arms.

++++++

“There, that’ll fix ye right up,” the ginger scot said as she handed Claire a full glass of whisky. They had stood on Geillis’ doorstep for five minutes before Claire managed to pull herself together enough to make it to the couch.

“Now,” Geillis took a seat beside her, pulling the fuzzy blanket over her feet. “Will ye tell me what the hell happened tonight?

Taking a long sip for bravery, Claire swallowed deeply letting the liquid burn down her throat. Her right hand fidgeted with a loose thread on the couch and she kept her eyes forward on the roaring fire as she spoke, giving Geillis a play by play of her eventful evening.

“That fucking bastard!” Geillis all but stood up, her face beaming red to match her hair. She set aside her own glass of whisky and gathered Claire into her arms. “I’m sae sorry, lass.”

“I just feel so stupid,” Claire wiped at her nose. “When I think back, I knew there was something off but I couldn’t put my finger on it. I just didn’t want to let myself think he would still be sleeping with me while he had an affair.”

“He’s a damn fool, Claire. I never liked him and ye ken it well. The moment ye introduced us, I felt my wame turn and I got weird vibes,” Geillis rose from the couch and refilled both their glasses.

Claire welcomed the whisky as it warmed her body. It was like a balm to her wounded soul and made her mind fuzzy. She wanted to curl up in a ball under the covers and imagine that this entire night hadn’t happened.

“Ye ken yer welcome to stay here as long as ye need.”

“Thank you,” Claire smiled sadly and then remembered. “I will need a massive favor from you.”

“Of course, I’ll do anythin’ for ye,” Geillis smiled and gave her leg a gentle pat.

“I don’t think I can face going back into that house. Would you be able to collect my things for me tomorrow? I also left my phone on the kitchen counter,” she sighed.

Geillis nodded and pulled out her own phone. “I’ll make a list of everything so I dinna forget.”

“You really are the best friend a girl could ever ask for,” Claire smiled and then felt a new wave of tears come about, but this time they were happy tears of gratitude.

“Och, dinna cry, Claire — ye’ll only make me start,” Geillis pulled her in to another embrace, stroking her unruly mop of curls between her fingers.

“Sorry,” she sniffed again.

“Ye’ve nothin’ to be sorry about, lass. Now… tomorrow I’ll go and get all yer wee things, but I’m afraid tomorrow evenin’ I canna be wi’ ye, that is unless ye wanted to come wi’ me to Broch Mordha.”

“Broch Mordha? What’s up there?” Claire sat up slightly, trying to recall the geography of Scotland.

“Och, tis a small town, but a few friends of mine ken of a local distillery that is launching their new whisky and I promised to go wi’ them to the grand opening.”

“Oh,” Claire thought about her work schedule and realized thankfully that she had the next three days off. “I don’t mind tagging along, that is if it’s alright.”

“Are ye sure?” Geillis asked. “I would prefer if ye did come just so I can keep an eye on ye to make sure ye dinna off yerself.”

“Geillis!” Claire laughed, a welcome sound and hit her friend on the arm. “I’m not there… yet.”

Geillis winked at her and pulled her into another hug, “That’s my lass. Let’s get ye into a nice hot bubble bath and then off to sleep. Tomorrow we’ll deal wi’ whatever comes yer way.”

They both rose from the couch and Claire followed Geillis to the bathroom. For the first time that day, Claire looked in the mirror and didn’t recognize herself. Her riotous brown curls were a frizzy mess around her slim face which was looking haggard. Bags under her red eyes from the crying and puffy cheeks to add — she didn’t feel too hot.

Once the bath was ready, she shed her layers and climbed in slowly, letting her body adjust to the changing temperature. Claire laid her head back against the bath, eyes fixated above her on a black speck on the white ceiling.

“Jesus H. Roosevelt Christ,” she muttered and submerged herself under the water, letting the weight of the world wash away.

Chapter 2 “Strange Whisky Man”