#and I stumbled into her house one day and suddenly found an entire career

[sassmill]

I asked “are you okay with me introducing your queerness into the museum’s official narrative? Is that term alright with you? Does it resonate with your experience when you lived?” And these cards all came flying out of the deck. Lizzo’s “about damn time” came into my head right when the three of wands came out, too. I feel like I’m going to start crying.

[marveldc-imagines-hub]

Subtitles: Episode 4, We Interrupt This Program

Subtitles Masterlist

Summary: [Y/N] is still recovering from one of the worst migraines they’ve ever had and they have the scars to prove it… Wait. Those scars weren’t there before and they certainly weren’t from passing out on the sidewalk a few days prior!

Word count: 9,361

Warnings: Mentions of (not super graphic) death and mental illness. Also Reader being just a little horny on main, but what’s new; almost 9.5k words and they’re simping for most of them. Lots of dorky fluff and also talking about insecurities.

Tag list: @madamevirgo​ @ravennight41​ @multifandomgirl16 @cyanide-mustard​ @badasspolygenderfriend​

~~~

    In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, voices were conversing.

    “[Y/N] [L/N]…” one started.

    [Y/N] [L/N]. Age twenty-five. Born to Killian and Alice [L/N] in [city, state] but Dad wasn’t in the picture. No siblings, no living relatives. They wanted to go to school for botany but Mom was diagnosed with early-onset dementia while they were still in high school, so they changed their career path to neurology in hopes of finding a way to help her. She still lives in their hometown.

    “Oh, wait,” another voice chimed in, almost indistinguishable from the first, “I know this one. Oh, God.”

    [Y/N] was an Honors student, at the top of all their classes. A degree in neurology with phytotoxicology on the side. They took an internship in Europe one year and somehow found themselves in Sokovia. HYDRA was still laying low at the time, caught wind of them.

    “Wait,” a third voice, this one easier to differentiate from the other two. “They’re HYDRA?”

    The second voice responded, “Former.”

    [Y/N] had no idea what they were getting into. HYDRA, always good at hiding in the shadows; they brought [Y/N] in under the guise of an assistant job studying new forms of neural regeneration. A job that paid well enough to live comfortably and even send a little extra home, while developing something that just might solve all their mother’s problems? It was a dream come true. 

Fortunately for HYDRA but unfortunately for [Y/N], they were very good at their job too. They helped HYDRA develop all kinds of nasty stuff. Nanobots that changed brain chemistry, near foolproof brainwashing tech— They even helped develop special toxins, one of the world’s deadliest poisons. All the while, thinking they were doing something good.

“How is that possible?” the original voice asked. “How could they have been so oblivious?”

“One-track mind?” the second voice offered, “Plus misinformation on HYDRA’s part and ‘routine health checks’ with something a little extra mixed in.”

“They were tested on?”

“A victim of almost everything they’d helped create, except the fatal stuff and anything that would disrupt business as usual. IVs and shots full of toxins, nanobots being released into their room while they slept.”

The third asked, “What changed?”

“Wanda.”

[Y/N] stumbled upon Wanda and her brother by pure accident. They’d been late that day and in their hurry, ran through a wrong door to where HYDRA was keeping Sokovian volunteers for testing. The twins were the youngest in their group, [Y/N] was only a couple of years older and the youngest in their division. It was a match made in heaven, really.

“Try hell,” the first voice suggested with a scoff.

The other voices offered their murmured agreements.

“So they knew each other,” the third voice said, “Before.”

That’s when [Y/N] started pulling at threads and HYDRA’s costume began to unravel; their one-track mind had switched gears. There was something too weird about the whole thing, these Sokovian civilians had stories that didn’t line up with [Y/N]’s own. 

“And they believed them?”

They believed Wanda. She and her brother were just two more Sokovian citizens suffering at the hands of war and wanting to help their people. They had no reason to lie. They had more reason to be honest to [Y/N] than HYDRA ever did, actually. It was just a bonus that for Wanda and [Y/N], being around each other was like being a moth drawn to a flame.

[Y/N] may have been naive but they were far from stupid. When they figured out what was going on, they wriggled their way deeper into HYDRA’s ranks under their own disguise of loyalty. They became a full-fledged HYDRA agent, tasked with assisting in neural and poisonous weaponry. They weren’t able to protect Pietro and Wanda from testing, obviously—not that Wanda would have let them; she and her brother still believed they were being tested on for the greater good—but they did their best to stay nearby and keep the Maximoffs’ sanity intact for as long as they could. They even managed to save a couple of the other test victims by injecting them with temporary poisons that lowered their heart rate to the point of appearing dead. When the bodies were dropped off, the poison wore off not long after and some of the victims were able to escape. No side effects to be seen.

“I have a question,” Original voice said abruptly. “Why do we know this much information on one person? Like, this is some in-depth, intimate stuff. Why do we know that [Y/N] and Wanda had the hots for each other since day one?”

Second voice answered, “We’ve done extensive research on [Y/N]. The result of an investigation on the person who caused the apprehension of an entire faction of HYDRA after successfully poisoning them.”

The tests that were done on [Y/N] were not without their outcomes. They gained the ability to transform almost any matter into almost any other form.

“Huh,” Third voice hummed, “That reminds me of a series of disappearances a few years back. One house was replaced by rose bushes and another—get this—burned down because the roof had been turned to lava. Whoever it was, they either stopped on their own or died. What were they called?”

“The Alchemist,” Second stated simply, much to Third’s dismay. “And those were incognito HYDRA agents.”

After Pietro died and Wanda disappeared—not really disappeared, just left with the Avengers—[Y/N] had a choice to make. They were far too deep into HYDRA’s work now, the awful things that they had done were beginning to weigh on them, as Wanda and her brother had been just as grounding for [Y/N] as [Y/N] had been for her. After she was gone, they had a hard time dealing with the horrible business going on around them. So they did what they knew how to do; they mixed up a combination of poison and nanobots.

[Y/N] had fully committed to perishing with the rest of their coworkers but apparently, the poison hadn’t been quite strong enough. They’d made a miscalculation in a time of poor mental state and woke up the next day to hear that not all of the HYDRA agents had died either. At least the survivors had been taken in for the time being but that just wasn’t enough for them; they’d had a right to be concerned too because HYDRA had a habit of getting themselves out of sticky situations. This case was no different. 

[Y/N] most likely felt responsible for having a hand in HYDRA’s dirty work, for not doing more, and they must have felt even more responsible when they learned that HYDRA was a much bigger problem than they could have ever imagined.

First blurted, “Well, what happened next?”

Second answered, “They went after agents until they got caught, the only way they knew how.”

The second miscalculation that they’d ever made got them caught. The agent put a gun to [Y/N]’s head and pulled the trigger.

“So are they dead too?” First asked. The voice seemed to quiver.

The third voice hemmed and hawed a bit before saying, “They must have, with the way all this weirdness had been going. Oh my god, poor Wanda, not one dead partner but two—”

Second spoke over the other two voices’ rambling, forcing them to calm down and listen. “They didn’t die, though, they—”

The voices started cutting out like the dream was a TV program being interfered by a poor connection and static.

“—Found by—Barely alive—Hospital—Braindead—Westview—Find a doct—”

Suddenly gunshots sounded, one followed by several more, and the darkness cracked and shattered, revealing blinding light behind it. A silhouette walked silently through the wall of light; it was Geraldine—no, Monica—poised with a gun in the outfit she helped deliver Maximoff twins in. As she walked forward, crossing from a plane of burning white to one of void black, the image of her warped and distorted until it changed. Monica, looking much more modern, in a uniform that included a bulletproof vest and a lanyard with S.W.O.R.D. printed at the top, moving carefully towards a broken and bleeding body on the ground with another in a heap behind her. The image distorted and changed again, and the first body was sitting on their knees and looking up defiant defeat. The person they were looking at was no longer Monica but a bulky figure in a dark outfit with straps in the form of an H across their chest, the body that had been laying in a battered pile behind Monica just a moment earlier. The H-adorned assailant held a still-raised gun to the kneeling person’s forehead.

[Y/N] could only spit at their feet before another gunshot sounded and the image disappeared to black.

You woke up sweating and choking on your breath. Your brain, throbbing with a pain that shot through it like a bullet, didn’t register fast enough that you were standing instead of laying down so when you flailed, you threw yourself off balance and fell forward. Catching a quick glimpse of your surroundings on your way down told you that you were somewhere outside and that it was the dead of night. You tried last minute to brace yourself for a concrete-laden impact.

    You were instead greeted with soft fabric and arms wrapping tightly around you.

    “Goodness, [Y/N], are you quite alright?”

    You squinted at the striped sleepwear for a moment before looking up where Vision’s worried gaze and whirling irises were waiting for you; it took your eyes a moment to fully focus as the pain in your head faded but left a faint ringing behind. Then you looked around at your surroundings; not only were you outside but you were standing in Vision and Wanda’s driveway. Your gaze settled on a particular section of the house’s exterior where you vividly remembered a vaguely human shape exploding out of its walls. 

    You were standing in the exact same place you had been when it happened.

    “[Y/N]?” Vision said again, drawing your attention back to him.

    “Oh, cosmo, I’m sorry,” you said but your throat was too dry and you had to stop and clear your throat halfway through. Being in Vision’s arms, you were keenly aware of the fact that you were both in your bedwear and that yours had been sweated through. You slumped against him, partially to hide your embarrassed face but also because you felt like you hadn’t slept at all.

    “Vis?”

    “Yes, my favorite teacup?”

    You snorted softly at that. “You don’t even drink tea.”

    “Oh, I know,” Vision lilted back. Then he nuzzled his face into your hair. “I do like the patterns and the daintiness of them though.”

    That time you laughed a bit. Feeling his warm breath against your scalp and his strong arms holding you safely in place against him, you almost instantly melted into the embrace. You wrapped your own arms around him and pressed your face into his chest. “What are we doing outside?”

    “Ah, yes, about that. You appeared to be sleepwalking again.”

    You groaned. “Again? This is a nightmare.”

    One of Vision’s hands moved to run itself through your hair and down your neck. “That accident you had the other day certainly did a number on you.”

    The accident. In other words, that time where you walked off in the middle of a conversation with Vision, Agnes, and Herb to mumble at a wall and then faceplant onto the sidewalk. Not only was your nose still recovering but your mind and dignity as well.

    “The only time I’ve slept well since is when I fell asleep on your couch,” you whined. Then you lowered your voice and grumbled into Vision’s chest.

    Vision chuckled. “What was that?”

    You looked up at him and scowled. “The four of you are over here in your stupid, big, warm, cozy house. Meanwhile, I’m across the way, alone and uncomfortable, with only Bernard to keep me company. Bernard’s terrible company.”

    “Truly,” Vision agreed, grinning slightly. He loved your strange, cute, not at all challenging struggles.

    The both of you turned to give the lawn ornament in question a pointed look. Bernard seemed to glower back.

    “Well,” Vision said as he pulled away from you a bit, “why don’t you come inside then? Wanda’s up with the babies anyway. You might as well join us, especially if it means you’ll be able to sleep better.” Not taking no for an answer, the synthezoid was already tugging you towards the lit-up porch.

    You were too tired to argue and, quite frankly, you didn’t want to, so you allowed yourself to be pulled along as you admired the soft cotton of Vision’s matching pajama set.

    “Oh, my.”

    “What?” You looked at Vision’s face again only to catch him staring at a spot above your eyes. The porch light glinted off the gem embedded in his own. “What, do I have something on my face?”

    “No,” Vision responded slowly, “but you must have done something to it. You have quite the scar.”

    Your eyebrows raised. You moved away from him to look at your reflection in one of the windows and surely enough, you had a raised scar on your forehead, near your hairline. You gingerly pressed your fingers against it; it certainly wasn’t new.

    A seemingly random thought popped into your head. Is that… a scar from a bullet?

    “What on earth did you do to yourself?” Vision asked. Him walking up to stand directly behind you and press his hands to your neck, under the collar of your shirt no less, was more than a little distracting. “You’ve got one back here too.”

    You reached back to where Vision was touching and when he removed his fingers, you could feel a similar scar at the base of your neck.

    You thought again, Bullet… exit wound…? 

    Something about the dream you were having earlier called out to you but you couldn’t remember anything about it. When you tried to think about it further, the excruciating pain came back in waves and you had to steady yourself on the windowsill to prevent yourself from collapsing.

    “Huh,” you said instead, “I have no idea.”

    “They don’t hurt?” Vision questioned. “They’re not just… odd raised bruises perhaps? Welts maybe?”

    “No, I don’t think so. They don’t hurt at all, though.” To make a point, you pressed down hard on the raised scar on your forehead, watched the skin turn a few shades lighter before releasing the pressure and dropping your hand again. Under the thick, stiff tissue, you barely felt the pressure at all.

    Vision thoughtfully hummed, placing his hands back on the curves of your neck; you prayed to whatever deities existed that you didn’t make any sounds you’d regret.

    “Well,” your partner said, “I suppose that’s better than nothing.”

    A pause. Your eyes stayed trained on the window’s reflection, specifically where you could see Vision’s fingers gently cupping your neck.

    Then he abruptly leaned down and pressed a kiss on the scar tissue, missing a pulse point by a hair. “We should head inside then.”

    You had to take a solid minute to recover from the shockwave of tingles that briefly made your veins turn into lightning. Then you shuffled after Vision into the ever so inviting house.

    Stepping out of chilly darkness and into a home of cozy furniture and warm light that turned the entire place a golden brown felt like walking into another world. An extra added layer of comfort to the usually perfect home was the slight disarray of baby equipment almost everywhere that wasn’t the floor itself, most of which you had gone out and bought during the babies’ day of birth and all of which Vision and Wanda appreciated; somehow, you had prepared for the babies’ accelerated growing on a panicked whim better than the Maximoffs. Tiny baby blankets and stuffed animals were strewn about and each visible part of the house—the living room, the dining area, and the kitchen, although the kitchen was partially blocked off by a drying rack of baby clothes and swaddles of various patterns and sizes—had a designated Baby Tray. These trays, perched on whatever flat surface had been previously free of decor or clutter, held bottles, nonperishable treats, diaper-changing equipment, teething toys, a mini first aid kit for each, and other useful trinkets; the new parents had apparently completely forgotten that almost all their house’s rooms were openly attached to each other and that, if one singular Baby Tray was designated to the dining area, it would take the same amount of about five steps to get to it from either the living area or the kitchen. It was almost comedic, the number of baby care items that were laying anywhere but the floor or in proper storage because, according to Vision, god forbid something gets a speck of dust on it and have to be washed or, according to Wanda, one of the babies be without their favorite toys easily accessible at every given moment. The only thing allowed to touch the ground, aside from feet, was a playpen that now replaced the usual coffee table in the living room area and a play mat in the babies’ room with its attached toys for the twins to play with. A final touch to the hominess was the soft light that you could see streaming out of the baby room’s open door, and the gentle voice of Wanda, singing a Sokovian lullaby, fluttering out of it. 

    It felt like coming home.

    Vision stepped away from your side to clean up somewhat, picking up a few toys and folding baby blankets and onesies to move them aside in case you wanted to make yourself comfortable on the couch. Standing inside now, you could much better make out Vision’s dark blue terry robe over a pair of bright yellow pajama pants that no doubt had a shirt to match hidden beneath dark blue fabric. The yellow of his pants matched the yellow gem that was embedded in his forehead, glittering with an unused power that you had yet to experience and that felt warm whenever you went to place a kiss on it. Poking out from the hems of his robe and pants were perfectly human hands and feet, despite their deep red color that matched the rest of his body; you found the continued presence of fingernails when not in his human disguise—absolutely unnecessary to his design, he’d pointed out when you initially asked about them—weirdly cute and continuously felt the urge to grab nail polish and paint them to match either the color of the gem or the same silver as the plating that started at his scalp and trailed down beneath the collar of his shirt. You briefly wondered how far that plating traveled across his body before mentally kicking yourself.

    The greatest thing about this still-fresh reveal of Vision’s inhuman identity—aside from the fact that he was no longer hiding something important from you, obviously—was that you now knew that he wasn’t just difficult to make blush but rather he quite literally couldn’t blush. You wondered what else he could and couldn’t do, only to mentally kick yourself again. 

    I can’t tell if I’ve gotten worse or better since I’ve started dating them, you thought.

    Oh, your brain responded on its own accord, so much worse. 

    Shhh!

    Vision was still puttering why while you stared and inwardly argued with yourself. At this point, he’d cleaned up most of the chaos and moved the stuffed animals and now-folded blankies to sit neatly on the dining area table.

    “Vis,” you said.

    Before you could continue, the man perked up and looked in your direction. “Yes, duck?”

    You blinked. “You make my heart go rainbow-colored. Anyway—” You broke off into a laugh when Vision went flustered, his hands flapping about while he sucked his bottom lip between his teeth. “Did I win this round?”

    Sometimes Vision got into the habit of ending all of his sentences around you and Wanda with a pet name. When you had first noticed this feat, you’d decided to start doing the same, just to see what would happen. He noticed and began purposely doing it back, where he had previously done it unintentionally, and now doing the occasional back-and-forth conversation that ended in pet names more than punctuation was somewhat of a competition between you two. 

    Vision scoffed at you, picked up a plushie, and tossed it at you. “Not fair!”

    Being in the house that was beginning to feel more like home than your own, around your partners and their sweet baby boys, seemed to shield and reenergize you from the exhaustion you felt after first waking up that night. You caught the stuffed animal, a plushie of a wizard, grinned and tossed it back at him. 

    “Oh,” Vision chirped, catching the plush wizard again, “I see how it is.” He puffed out his chest and gave you a warning, albeit amused, glare, then picked up a couple more plushes. In a lower, sort of growling voice that made your heart leap out of your chest and into your stomach, he continued, “If it’s a war you want, it’s a war you shall get.”

    You yelped as he started in your direction and dived across the front of the couch to get some stuffed animal ammo of your own. He nailed you in the foot with a cream-colored bunny and you returned the favor with a plushie of a witch in a red dress after taking cover behind the playpen. Now each of you was standing where the other had previously been, with you poking your head over the playpen’s sheer wall and Vision slowly pacing around the back of the couch for his second lap. You pulled the playpen with you with one hand as you moved away from him and the two of you began circling each other. 

    Oh, if Wanda could see her partners now.

    “Oh, Wanda—” you started to stand, only to get smacked in the face with a blue teddy bear; luckily, it was of the very soft variety. You stared at Vision in disbelief.

    Vision stared back, eyes bulging, unsure of whether he should apologize or prepare for an attack. He was too torn to do either, though, and had to scramble back to avoid an onslaught of stuffed bullets flying his way.

    Still aware that it was very late at night, your war-cry was softened, “Revenge!”

    Then your attack quickly diminished, partially because you were running out of ammo and Vision wasn’t throwing anything back and partially because Vision was now floating off the ground and heading towards you, arms full of said ammo.

    Wow, didn’t know it did that, you thought randomly, eyes fixed Vision floating in general, before specifically fixating on the devilish grin he wore while doing so. He looked like a very handsome, well, vision.

    A handsome Vision, if you will, your brain offered. You almost snorted before remembering you had not yet moved to avoid Vision’s floating plushie attack. You stumbled backward and scrambled out of the living room just as Vision started throwing.

    “No no no no no nonononono—” You were choking between laughter and squawking as you got up and began running down the hallway to save yourself. “Not fair, not fair not fair, not fair—!”

    You ran past the baby room and caught Wanda mid-turnaround, saying, “What on earth is going on out there?” You reeled back to pause in the doorway, caught a glimpse of the babies in their one large crib, smiled, went to pant out an answer—

    Only to feel arms wrap around you and drag you back down the hallway. You started to shriek, then forced it into a startled laugh as to not disturb the babies, and flailed around in Vision’s arms as he lifted you off the ground. It was brief, though, because then your struggling caught Vision off balance and the two you tumbled to the ground. There, you both harmlessly pummeled each other until you both were out of breath and snickering, and you somehow ended up with his top half under you but his legs pinning down your own.

    “You can fly?” you bubbled. You grabbed his face and squished his cheeks in your hands. “What the hell?”

    He laughed and nodded, and one of his hands caught your own. He glanced up at you as he kissed your palm and replied, “Yes, just a little.”

    “Just a little—”

    “And his wife can move things with her mind, like the crib she just finished rocking to put the boys back to sleep, and if she has to do it again because of her partners’ roughhousing…”

    You and Vision quickly disentangled yourselves from each other and looked up at Wanda, whose face said serious but whose eyes twinkled with amusement and who looked no less terrifying in a pale pink, puff-sleeved nightgown.

    You got up and straightened your clothes, with Vision following closely behind. “I will very happily take over the next shift because I started it and I’m very sorry.” 

    “What? Nonsense, [Y/N], I threw the first stuffed animal.”

    “I threw it back,” you pointed out.

    “Neither of you better have thrown and hit something,” Wanda warned.

    You glanced at Vision for confirmation; you didn’t exactly see much when you were chucking plushies aplenty and then running from your flying boyfriend.

    Vision nodded. “Nothing at all, although I did make the evaluation that we do have a plethora of plushies and baby blankets.”

    “I thought I was the one who pointed that out when you first gave me the shopping list, but okay,” you huffed under your breath, then grinned with Vision lightly bumped you with his hip. “So, the babies having a bad night?”

    “Actually, they were apparently worried about you,” Wanda said.

    That made your head do a confused tilt. “Me?”

    “Ah, yes,” Vision nodded, “We fell asleep with them in the living room and Billy started crying. We woke up to figure out what was wrong and Wanda saw you standing outside.”

    Wanda added, “Tommy started crying shortly after I walked to the door with him like he wanted to make sure you were okay.”

    “Aww,” you cooed, peering over Wanda’s shoulder to see the babies. She stepped to the side so you could walk in and shuffle over to the crib, and she and Vision stood nearby as you crouched down to brush a hand over their little sleeping heads. You continued, much softer this time, “Were the boys trying to make sure I was safe? Are they my little protectors? My little superheroes?”

    Tommy gurgled happily in his sleep. Billy remained quiet but his head leaned into your hand.

    You looked up at their parents with big, awestruck eyes to see them leaning comfortably into each other, watching you with the same level of affection you felt for them and their babies.

    “Heroes indeed,” Vision said. He walked over as you stood up again and lightly rocked the crib; Wanda strolled over to join the group. He continued to the twins in baby-talk, “But no hero-ing until after college, my little honeydews. For now, leave the protecting to your parents.” 

    “Especially this one,” Wanda chirped, making her way over to your side and slipping her arm around your back. “They’re a handful.”

    You faked a gasp, “I’m a treasure.”

    “You’re a putz,” Wanda said simply, with a smirk and a light pinch to your hip.

    You gasped harder and stared at her with utter betrayal.

    “A goof,” Vision chimed in. He slipped his own arm around you, the final piece of your three-person puzzle.

    You gasped harder still— and almost choked on air. Then you looked to the babies. “Bullies! Bullies, both of them! Billy, Tommy, you must protect me!”

    Very enthusiastically, neither baby did anything. 

    “I’ve been betrayed yet again,” you cried, not too loudly, though. You slumped against Vision and Wanda’s waiting arms. “Betrayed by my own brood!”

    “Your brood?” Wanda questioned, quirking a brow. Vision was giggling softly at your other side.

    “Yes,” you whispered, looking at her with wide, distraught eyes, “My brood. My pack. My murder.”

    “Your what?” Vision said.

    “It’s a group of crows,” you explained under your breath, before slumping down farther and continuing your distraught monologue. “I’m all alone! Oh, the horror—”

    “Well,” Wanda said, “We’re supporting you very well a family that has completely abandoned you.”

    You flopped your head back in her direction. You were so far to the ground now that you were practically on your knees, only your arms and shoulders being held by Wanda and Vision. You traced fingers lamely across each of their arms. “So strong, those who once held me…”

    The married couple exchanged an amused but mysterious look.

    “Wanda, darling,” Vision said, “They seem to have gone delusional.”

    Wanda nodded sagely in response. “Clearly lost their mind.”

    You squinted, glancing between them. What were they up to?

    “To the ward with you,” Wanda suddenly announced.

    Then you caught a red glow by your feet, but not fast enough before you were swept up into the air on a cloud of red mist. You burst into startled laughter but quickly slapped a hand over your mouth so you didn’t wake up the children. Once you relaxed—enough to stop laughing anyway, not enough to not be freaking out about being magically escorted out of the nursery—you waved your hands through the red; it felt like waving your hands through the open air. The only thing actually felt was the pressure on the back of your body that was holding you afloat and carrying you out of the room, but when you tried to balance on it and move to a different position, all you did was squirm and twist awkwardly in the air before flopping back down. You craned your neck, mostly to make sure Tommy and Billy hadn’t woken up from your outburst, but you only caught Wanda, hands glowing red, following you out of the room and Vision trailing after wishing his babies a goodnight.

    You looked back at the ceiling for a moment. After you heard the nursery door shut, you asked at a normal volume, “I’m not gonna fall, right?”

    “Not unless I let you,” Wanda reassured you. You couldn’t see her but the teasing tone of her voice made you imagine her with a smirk. A smirk, narrowed eyes, her pretty nightgown floating around her, magical powers that she could definitely use to crush you if she wanted to and you’d probably thank her if she did.

    Wow, okay, I either need to confess my sins or go to sleep.

    “Why?” Wanda asked suddenly.

    “Why what?” you choked back, heat rushing to your face. Surely, she couldn’t read your thoughts…

    “Why ask if you would fall?”

    Oh.

    “Oh.” You started flopping around in the cloud of magic, testing the proverbial waters; you were being taken to the living area now. You heard both Wanda and her husband laughing from beneath and behind you when you settled again. 

    Vision asked through chuckling, “What could you possibly be doing?”   

    You suddenly flung yourself to one of the magic surrounding you, thinking maybe you would fall through, but the magic held. You huffed and laid back again but not before you caught a glimpse of the couch that you now hovered over. You grasped at the magic again, watching it wisp through your fingers but feeling nothing at all. “This is so cool.”

    Wanda’s voice was softer when she spoke this time. “You think?”

    You couldn’t hold back the disbelieving laughter that bubbled up. Suddenly breathless out of sheer excitement of learning more about the people you cared for most, you sighed, “Wanda, baby, you must know that you’re amazing.”

    Then you squawked as the magic suddenly disappeared around you, but instead of falling straight to the couch below, Vision flew up to catch you. He held you bridal style as he gently dropped back to his feet next to the couch, grinning—he very rarely just smiled, it was always a big, happy grin when it was directed at you or Wanda or the babies—and giving you a peck on the forehead when you stared up at him, doe-eyed.

    “Got my own Superman, too,” you said, “Damn.”

    Vision plopped you down on the couch. “Who?”

    “Comic book character,” you responded with a wave of your hand, “Doesn’t matter. You’re far better looking than him anyway.”

You shifted a bit to get more comfortable and watched as glowing red magic started swirling all around you. The magic was misty, red around the edges and glowing orange-white in the center, picking up the scattered toys from your and Vision’s scuffle and tossing them into the playpen, pulling said playpen out of the way and sliding the original coffee table back from its place against the wall, picking up any other stray blankets or baby items and placing them neatly out of the way; it also straightened out Vision’s robe and ruffled your hair. Part of the magic moved out of your line of vision, so you twisted to follow it and saw it taking the baby clothes off the drying rack to fold and put on the counter next to it, then continued watching as it folded the rack itself and moved it out of the way. 

Wanda was now in your sight again too; she was standing still, palms up with magic flowing outward from the red clouds around them, and looking around to see if there was anything else she needed to put away. She was also blushing, from you calling her baby or saying she’s amazing, you couldn’t tell. After staring for probably way too long, probably looking at her with the same starry-eyed, dopey look that a teenager had at their first concert or after a first kiss, her gaze flitted to yours and made a nose-scrunching face at you before finishing her magical cleanup and making her way over to the couch as well.

You slumped back in the pile of throw pillows behind you, covered your face with your hands, and flutter-kicked your feet few times. “This is so cool!”

    You felt a nudge at your feet and you raised your legs so he could sit, then did the same with your head when you felt Wanda’s hand brush across your forehead. When they were both seated, you laid your legs and head on their respective laps and the three of you settled into the comfortable position that had been adopted long after your relationship had started. 

    That is until you quickly sat up again. “Is that how you unpacked your house so quickly?”

    Wanda smiled and nodded. She rested a cheek in the palm of her hand, endeared by your wonderment towards her powers.

    “Is that you unpacked my house?”

    Another nod. 

    “And the magic show was real— Wait.” You scowled. “But all the pulleys and stuff.”

    “That was, ah, my bad,” Vision offered with a raised hand. 

    “Covering for him actually using his powers,” Wanda explained.

    “I knew the mirrors didn’t make sense with you putting your hat through your body!” you exclaimed. “So flight, super strong, and… not sure what to call that last one. What was with you that day, by the way? You acted drunk, but you can’t get drunk!”

    “I swallowed some gum,” Vision muttered, glancing away and rubbing the side of his neck. His other hand waved towards his torso as he continued, “It got all… stuck. Gummed up my gears, if you will.”

    Wanda rolled her eyes at the pun. You snickered at it.

    “I had to magic it out of him,” she added.

    Your gaze flitted back and forth between your two superhuman partners multiple times as you took in the information. Because you were sitting between the two, this involved the turning of your head various times, which made your head swim a bit. You almost wished that they were both sitting to one side of you.

    Instead of suggesting this, you settled your gaze to stare aimlessly ahead and said simply, “I’m dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar people in the world. How the hell did I manage that?”

    “Charisma,” Vision offered, even though you and him both knew at this point how you’d weirdly creeped on him at the office the first day the two of you met.

    “Sheer force of will,” Wanda suggested, but you guaranteed she was remembering how, for the few dates you went on with them, you’d had to be reminded that you were actually on dates and that they weren’t just casual friendly hangouts. 

    You looked between them once more and then you wished you had suggested they sit to one side of you. Despite their steady, comfortable voices, Wanda was in the process of hiding her flustered face behind the curtain of her hair and Vision was chewing on his lip and couldn’t seem to keep his hands and feet from tapping away.

    “Okay,” you said after a moment, patting your thighs to do something with your hands. “I’m grasping that you guys don’t agree with me here. Wanda, go sit by him so I don’t get whiplash from trying to look at you both.”

    You and Wanda quickly switched places. You sat cross-legged on the couch to face them and Wanda and Vision shifted around to sit in a way that allowed them to face you without one blocking the other. After a moment, you waved your hands at them; the cheery air has since faded into something more somber. “What is it? Tell me why you get all quiet like that when I tell you, with evidence, why you’re the actual grooviest people I’ve ever met.”

    There were a few more moments of silence before Vision went to speak first, which surprised Wanda. She looked at him, eyebrows raised high on her forehead, and lightly grasped his wrist.

    “Vis?” she murmured.

    He sighed softly and placed his other hand over hers. “Oh, it’s really nothing dear, I promise. It’s just… Well, you’ve heard how the people of the cul-de-sac talk about us sometimes.”

    “Mean girls,” you grumbled under your breath with a nod, “the lot of them sometimes.”

    Wanda seemed to suddenly sag with sadness and both you and Vision reached over quickly to hold her.

    “Oh, darling,” Vision said, “It’s not your fault—”

    “That’s not true,” Wanda whispered.

    “It is true,” Vision said, and this time he said it with a fierceness that was familiar to you, whenever Wanda was being treated poorly by people like the Queen of the Cul-de-Sac, Dotty, or when Wanda decided to get down on herself. He grasped her shoulders tightly, squeezed them until she looked up at him. “Wanda, darling, love, I didn’t exist before I meant you. I mean, I did, of course, I did, but I was just this strange, non-human, non-machine thing that was just… kind of… there. It was you that gave me an existence, Wanda. You made me human.”

    Both you and Wanda stared at him, surprised. Wanda stared because she obviously didn’t fully agree with his opinion of her. You stared because of course, you were dating two of the weirdest, coolest, most stellar, and most romantic people ever. 

    Get yourself a man like that, you thought. Then after a moment, Wait, that is in fact also my man. 

    “And you—” Vision said, turning his head in your direction.

    “Oh, I’m next?” you stammered. “I thought it was Wanda’s turn.”

    Vision still held Wanda but also reached over to tightly grasp your hand and bring it to his mouth. “I just wished we could have confessed to you sooner. I just hate, hate, hated lying to you and now you’re involved with all this too—”

    The synthezoid with the English accent looked up at you with eyes begging forgiveness as if he’d committed one of the worst sins imaginable. You let out a hoarse laugh and ran your thumb across the side of his hand.

    “I’m sorry,” you said, still chuckling as you wriggled closer to your couple, “but as much as you might like to think you’ve subjected me to something I didn’t sign up for, I’d like to point out that I’ve been about a month ahead of you. I was here before you.” You felt a nagging urge to look at Wanda and repeat the last sentence, and there was something extra special about saying it that second time like there was a double and then a triple meaning behind it, but the way you both furrowed your brows afterward made it clear that neither of you really knew what those meanings were.

    Not yet, anyway.

    You cleared your throat and removed your hand from Vision’s grasp to place it on the back of the couch. “I moved into this town with no husband or wife, no family, nothing but a pile of letters and a new deed to a new house that happened to be the smallest in the neighborhood. My first week here I told one man in front of the entire night watch that I thought the joke he made about his wife was distasteful, and then the week after I tripped and spilled wine all over his wife. Agnes brought because she thought I’d be a form of entertainment and we somehow ended up becoming friends over a flask that she hid in a pocket sewed into the inside of her skirt.” You offered a look to Wanda again while you mentioned that Agnes never thought your “for the children” jokes were all that funny, though. “I’ve dealt with the comments and the rumors and the ‘what’s wrong with them, they don’t have no kids!’ People are weird and they’re mean and they’re fun and they suck. You want human, dude? You got it. If I was still bothered by comments that are nothing but a bummer, I think I’d be trying a little bit more than wearing clothes that I enjoy over the clothes that are expected of me, telling Dotty she needs to stop being awful before she gets frown lines, or, you know, pining over two people—a married couple nonetheless—until I somehow seduced them with my staring at them from around corners and just generally horrible, awful attempts at eye contact.”

    The married couple in question chortled at that.

    You used your hand on the back of the couch to hoist yourself up on your knees so you towered over Vision just slightly.

    “Here’s the thing, sunshine,” you continued, “I’m not in your boat on this one, you dorks, you’re in mine. I was here first and I don’t give a fuck.”

    Wanda gave a sudden laugh. “What language.”

    “Has he not told you about the time I said ‘Fuck you’ to a plastic bird in my garden?” you asked. “Multiple times? His name is Bernard and he’s plotting to kill me, I swear.”

    Wanda’s troubled expression was split by a wobbly smile.

    You threw up your arms in the dramatic fashion that you knew the two people in front of you loved and hollered—then quickly quieted back down to not disturb Billy and Tommy in the other room—“All this for my rambling putz ass to say, who cares about what’s outside this house! You two, and your kids, and I are the only people that matter here. Here being the house, Westview, whatever! Everyone else? Nonexistent.

    “Also, just to clarify,” you paused to wave your arms around, gesturing at the entire house, “Love it here. Love this shit.”

    You suddenly caught Vision’s slacked jaw in your hand and gave him a peck on the cheek. “This face? Love it.” You moved to peck a spot of silver on his skull. “Love this too.” You pecked the gem on his forehead and swore it glowed brighter in response. “Love this.” You pecked one of his ear plates. “Love these goofy things.” You pecked the tip of his nose. “Love this and the fact that you have it even though you don’t technically even need to breathe. Oh, speaking of which!” 

You lifted one of his hands with one of your own and tapped on his red fingernails with your other. You caught a glimpse of his face now that yours wasn’t directly in front of it and noticed him trying to hold back a giddy smile—and failing—while he watched you from underneath red lashes; your whole body would have tried to twist itself in knots under that look if you weren’t too busy swearing to kiss those eyelids and lashes too, at another time. Instead, you pecked each fingertip of the hand you were holding. “Love these ‘useless to my design’ things too. You know what, just speaking of hands—” You dropped Vision’s hand, which made itself to your waist as you went to grab Wanda’s; you were vaguely aware that you were practically leaning into their laps at that point but that could be dealt with when you weren’t trying to make a point.

When you went to touch her, she let you hold her wrist but quickly squeezed her hand into firsts before you could hold it like you had with Vision’s. She was looking away.

    You pressed a kiss to her whitening knuckles. “Wanda.”

    She looked at you, her perfect face distorted by a deep sadness that almost shattered your heart on the spot. She tightened her first further. The deep emotion appeared to make her slip back into her natural Sokovian accent when she spoke again. “You don’t know the pain it’s caused.”

    “I’ve done my fair share,” you affirmed even though you weren’t quite sure why. Then you kissed her knuckles again. “And maybe I don’t, but I know what good it’s caused, that you have.”

    Her face twisted into an ugly grimace. She asked hoarsely, “Like what?”

    “The first time I saw your face, I wanted to go to space, grab the moon, shrink it down—so it looked like one of those cool little lava rocks, you know? But prettier—and get it put on a ring,” you offered, then kissed the back of her hand and whispered, “and that’s after I found out you were married to a very attractive man too…”

    Vision snorted. Wanda cracked the smallest of smiles.

    You whispered lower, “And I may or may not have even been interested in marriage before that…”

    That time Wanda rolled her eyes; you smiled and grabbed her other clenched hand to share the attention with. You continued, “You’re also so nice, like so nice. You are so kind and care about what people think so much, it’s almost buggy—and bordering on self-destructive but that’s not what we’re talking about— And I sort of get it now, you know, but wow, making your magic show worse for the sake of people’s sanity? Wouldn’t even be on my radar.”

    Another little smile.

    “I’d be like, ‘Who wants to see me turn this entire table into a rosebush! Dotty’s rosebush specifically; Dotty, I stole your rosebush.’ I actually did steal a rose from her bush that day.”

    Wanda blinked and you noticed the lines of her expression weren’t as deeply etched into her face anymore.

    “That was Dotty’s?”

    You grinned and nodded, then kissed both of her hands. “Also, I love your hair and the way it perfectly frames your perfect face, and I love your little nose scrunches, and I love your eyelashes and the way you look at me from under them sometimes, and I’d kiss all those things but I’m not going to because I gotta get these stubborn, always-working, never-wanna-take-a-break, always-somehow-perfect-nails-having hands to relax before they hurt themselves even though it’s very clearly hard enough to make who woman who owns them do the same. Oh, I did I mention that smile—hoo, Wanda, that foxy smile…”

    Wanda was blushing now and bringing up her smile made it happen again, just slightly. You took advantage of the moment anyway and flung yourself back onto the couch with a hand over your heart. “Be still, my pounding heart!”

    Vision, who was watching by your and Wanda’s sides, laughed a bit. Wanda herself rolled her eyes again; the smile didn’t disappear afterward.

    You sat up again and pointed at Vision, now that he’d brought attention to himself again. “And I don’t know whether you heard any of the stuff this guy said! You made him exist? You made him human? What? You two also do this thing where you just look at each other and have a whole conversation, I don’t know if you guys know you do that or not. You do, though, and I don’t know if either or both of you are psychic but if you are and still love me? With my unhinged brain? Migraines and all? I wouldn’t understand, even if you explained it to me.”

    Vision offered, “Neither of us is psychic but anyway, please continue.”

    “Have anything to add?”

    “You’re doing wonderfully.”

    “Thank you.” You looked back and Wanda, noting that her face had almost completely softened now, as she was too busy being flustered to be sad at this point. You quickly scooped her hands before they could curl into fists again placed kissed on each of the crescent moon-shaped marks now dug into their palms. “Your magic rocked your babies to sleep. Your magic cleaned up all their and put it all in one nice, neat place. You floated me around the house with your magic and even protected me from falling when I was wriggling around up there; bet that was fun for both of you to watch. Vision said earlier that that was your job, to protect me, and while I don’t fully agree because I consider it the other way around, is that not what you did?”

    “I thought it was cute,” Wanda replied softly to the second to last sentence you said. She watched as you gave her hands a few more pecks.

    “So, you agree then,” you said, “that your magic protected me and also made me cuter?”

    She laughed and the sound made your heart soared, performing an aerial performance in your chest. She tried to wriggle her hands free from you but then you scowled and tucked them protectively under your chin.

    “Gotta say it. Gotta say your magic made me cute.”

    “I’m not saying that.”

    You shrugged and got comfy, laying your head in her lap with her hands still hidden. “Have to. Otherwise, no hands for you. Oh, did I not mention how good you are to your kids yet? You’re so good—”

    “Okay, okay, okay,” Wanda forfeited through a wet laugh. Hearing said laugh, your head shot up in concern, but the woman was smiling as she snagged your hands back; what she chose to do with them next was grab your face and place a kiss directly on your mouth.

    It was quick and soft and sweet and absolutely none of that prevented the fireworks that went off in your skull and your chest and your stomach and your veins that made tingles shoot all the way down to your toes. She pulled away as quickly as she had moved in and you blinked; your brain was still short-circuiting, like a robot—like a Vision with his gears all gummed up, and your dazed brain thought that was a very funny connection, so it repeated the joke verbally.

    Luckily, Vision was close enough to the level of dork that you were and he laughed at it with you.

    It took a deep breath and a head shake to de-gum your brain—if only Wanda could magic that—but after the excitement wore off, you felt sleepiness start creeping in and decided to make your final push. You curled a hand around both of your partners’ necks and brought their faces closer to nuzzle your noses together; they responded by each of them wrapping an arm around your waist and returning the affectionate action.

    “So, in conclusion,” you stated, which caused Vision to laugh lightly and Wanda to grin just slightly, “I love both of these perfect faces.” You kissed each of their noses. “And these funky, magical brains.” You kissed Wanda at the base of her hairline, then Vision just below his forehead gem. “And these equally funky, magical hands.” You grabbed the hands not looped around your waist and kissed the back of them. “And both of those babies, and this house, and y—”

    You sucked in a sudden breath to stop yourself so hard that you almost choked and you reeled back to the other side of the couch only to drag Vision and Wanda with you. The three of you tumbled into a flustered heap on the couch and over their shoulders, you could see early morning light filtering through the windows. This barely registered, though, as you were too busy focusing on the fact that you almost L-worded them on a silly, tired whim. 

    Despite the awkwardness of the moment and the unspoken words, no one made a move to remove themselves from the warm, cozy entanglement. One of both Wanda and Vision’s arms was pinned under your back, keeping them solid in place against you while simultaneously and successfully enveloping you in between them; your own arms, which had instinctively wrapped protectively around their shoulders in the tumble, kept them in a similar state. Wanda’s hair fanned found and covered the three of you like a blanket, and you were keenly aware of her breath softly wafting over the exposed skin of your neck from where her head now rested on your shoulder. Vision’s rested slightly lower, on your chest, and you felt a quickened pulse where his gem pressed into your neck, but you couldn’t be sure whether it was yours or his. 

    You stared past their shoulders and watched as sunlight shone through the curtains and dappled the ceiling. You tried to figure out whether you were stupider for stopping yourself from finishing that sentence or for not saying it at all.

    Then you felt a kiss being pressed to your clothed shoulder.

    “You’ve said so many things that you’ve loved tonight [Y/N],” Wanda murmured, her hot breath causing goosebumps to rise on your skin. “What’s two more?”

    “I—” you started, then bit your tongue again. There was something about saying that phrase that made you worried; you felt like if you said it now, the happy little world you lived in would begin to crumble, like it would all end far too soon. You sighed softly and said instead, “I don’t know how I would live without you.”

    There were a few moments of silence where you watched more sunlight filter in and wished you could take it back because what a way to talk a big game and then not follow through—

    Then Vision’s head appeared above you and he pressed a dizziness-inducing kiss to your lips. When he pulled away, he nuzzled your nose with his own as he murmured, “I love you too.”

    In almost the same moment, Wanda was mumbling the same phrase against your jawline. 

    Sleepy and hazy-brained you couldn’t do much else but stare at Vision like a lovesick puppy that struggled to say that L-word, then snuggle back down with both him and Wanda when they relaxed against you again. That seemed to be the last of what needed to be said, though, because everything was cozy and warm and golden brown in your home again and, one by one, the three of you fell into a deep, comfortable sleep.

    In the black void of otherwise dreamless sleep, you heard the vaguely familiar First Voice finish chewing something and then go, “Aww…”

[jaskierswolf]

The Grass is Greener Pt.3/3

CW: More shitty parents...

Previous

Dinner was an absolute nightmare. The food itself was delicious. They ordered from the lovely little Italian place in town that was one of Jaskier’s favourites for board game night with his housemates. Geralt and Jaskier both ordered pizza, which was the totally normal thing to do when ordering takeaway. His mother ordered sea bass with new potatoes, spinach and mediterranean vegetables.

Ciri was snoring quietly in her pram. Geralt had popped home to get it whilst they were waiting for the food as Ciri threw a bit of a tantrum when they’d tried to get her back into her carry cot.

They were eating on the patio table. Jaskier had insisted. They had spent over two hours trying to clear up the garden and his mother was going to fucking appreciate it, seeing as she’d found every reason to pull apart his house.

The carpet was the wrong colour, the oven was shit, his bedroom was a mess (it wasn’t), the bathroom stank even through the jammy door (it kind of did, thanks Regis), the windows were filthy, there were too many beds…

It went on and on and on.

Geralt, who was supposed to be helping to charm his darling mother, was just glaring at her across the table. Jaskier was trying to joke and make awkward conversation but the tension was just too much. He couldn’t do this. Everything he said was met was snide comments from his mother, who’s current favourite topic was Geralt being a single father, because how could Jaskier ever be good enough to help raise a child. Geralt didn’t once defend himself against his mother’s remarks which Jaskier found infuriating but he was immensely glad that Geralt was there to serve as a buffer. He was struggling to remember how he coped in past years without Geralt’s assistance. How on earth had he managed this battle on his own every year?

Geralt had held his hand throughout the entire dinner, which was both amazing and really awkward when it came to eating. Luckily pizza didn’t require a knife and fork. Occasionally, Geralt would lean in to kiss his cheek or brush Jaskier’s fringe from his eyes. Jaskier hadn’t known what to expect from fake dating Geralt. He’d assumed that he would be the better actor out of the two of them, but his mother was throwing him off and Geralt seemed to have slipped into the role as if he were born to love Jaskier, and didn’t that just make him feel all giddy?

Still he could do without the death glares being shot towards his mother whenever she said… well, anything really.

“Geralt. A word, please.” He said firmly, squeezing Geralt’s hand and standing up.

Geralt grunted and turned to flee into the house. Jaskier sighed. “Mother, can you watch Ciri?”

His mother nodded and stabbed at the poor dead fish on her plate. He nodded back and ran into the house.

“Geralt!” He called after his neighbour.

Geralt was now the one pacing in the living room. “What the fuck is her problem?”

Jaskier frowned. Why was he so angry? It wasn’t as if they were actually dating…

Jaskier shrugged and tapped out a rhythm on his leg with his fingers as he tried to recap an entire lifetime of terrible parenting as quickly as possible. “I’ve always been the problem child, according to my parents. I came out when I was sixteen after years of running around in my sister’s high heels and dresses. Mother and Father didn’t exactly welcome the news and proceeded to ignore it until I left for uni. When I said I was going to study music they all but kicked me out the house. Apparently being bi was tolerable but not having a ‘proper’ career was a step too far. After uni, I sofa-surfed for a few years until Pris suggested we all get a house together, that’s when Regis practically adopted us and… well… here we are. Present day.”

Geralt put a hand on his shoulder and then pulled him into a hug.

Jaskier yelped, surprised by the sudden show of affection. “Geralt?” He mumbled against Geralt’s chest, trying to ignoring the blooming love in his heart.

“You don’t deserve that.” He grumbled. “Any of that.”

Jaskier pulled back and furrowed his brow. “Yeah, and how would you know?”

Geralt… blushed?

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, cupping Geralt’s cheek.

“When you moved in you made me cupcakes.” Geralt mumbled.

Jaskier stared in shock at the man in front of him. He’d forgotten about that. They’d been a complete mess and the icing had leaked all over the bottom of the box, but they’d still been edible and Geralt had insisted that Jaskier stay for a cup of tea to try them.

It had just been Geralt in the house at the time. He’d still been waiting for the paperwork to be finalised to be approved as a potential adoptive parent and the house had seemed so empty. It was the same size as Jaskier’s and Jaskier shared with four other people, well, three others and Valdo Marx. Apparently, Geralt had come into some money following a death of a family friend and he’d been able to afford a family sized home. Jaskier had just seen the hot guy next door and decided to spontaneously make cupcakes in a half-baked attempt, pun intended, to get laid. It hadn’t worked and Jaskier had settled for pining for his hot neighbour instead.

How had he forgotten about that?

“Geralt.” He breathed.

“And when I got the flu you came round with groceries and made soup.” Geralt added.

Jaskier swallowed nervously. “I was worried about you. You hadn’t left the house for days and I don’t think I’d even seen you miss a day of work before. You leave every morning like clockwork.”

“You’re a great person, Jaskier.” Geralt chuckled almost nervously, in a way that was making Jaskier’s heart run far too fast in his chest. “And seeing you with Ciri, Jask, you’re incredible.”

Jaskier scoffed trying to calm the torrent of feelings in his poor bisexual heart. “This fake dating is getting to your head, Geralt.”

Geralt hummed and pulled away from him. “Right.”

“Can you please just try and get along with my mother until I can send her off to the hotel room she inevitably booked so she doesn’t have to stay with us, me, with me.” Jaskier stumbled over his words. “Please?”

“Then we can get the pictures for Yen and I’ll be out of your hair.” Geralt grumbled.

Jaskier laughed nervously. Why did that suddenly sound like a death sentence?

God, he was already addicted to Geralt being in his life.

“Right.” He mumbled.

They both sulked back outside to the patio where his mother was cooing at baby Ciri in her pram.

Jaskier turned to face Geralt who had a matching confused expression on his face.

“Geralt, she is just the cutest.” His mother cooed.

“What the…” Jaskier muttered.

“Thank you, Mrs Pankratz.” Geralt said slowly, as if he didn’t trust his words.

His mother bopped the young girl on the nose then turned up to look between Geralt and Jaskier.  “Now then, what’s up with you two? Julian, don’t tell me you’ve managed to ruin your relationship with this young man already!” She snapped.

Jaskier gaped. What the fuck?

This wasn’t his life.

Dear god this wasn’t his life.

Geralt wrapped his arm around Jaskier’s waist pulling Jaskier towards him and placing a kiss on Jaskier’s temple. Jaskier’s heart fluttered in his chest he couldn’t help but lean into Geralt’s embrace.

“Not at all.” Geralt said in his lovely deep voice that made Jaskier’s insides turn to goo.

“Geralt was just worried about me.” Jaskier chimed, the fake smile back on his face. “All sorted now.”

“Worried?” His mother scoffed and then turned to give Ciri a smile that, if Jaskier didn’t know better, would have been described as motherly. “Whatever for?”

Geralt smiled too sweetly. It looked wrong on his face. Jaskier gulped and looked between them. “He’s tried so hard to make you proud, Mrs Pankratz and you have not been kind. As his guest you should be grateful that he’s invited you into his home. Yet everything he does is flawed in your eyes. Makes me wonder, is there something wrong with your eyes? Because your son is… he’s one of the best people that I’ve had the pleasure to meet.”

“Excuse me?!” Jaskier’s mother shrieked and Jaskier decided it would be rather lovely if a big hole would just open up under his feet right.

“And yet, you look at my daughter as if she is an angel.” Geralt growled.

“Oh well. She is rather amazing.” Jaskier mumbled.

“If only you had treated your son with the same respect, maybe we could have gotten along better.” Geralt carried on as if Jaskier hadn’t said a word.

“You have no right!” His mother pointed at Geralt. “No right!”

Geralt shrugged. “Perhaps, but Jaskier was too good to say what needed to be said.”

“Geralt, love.” Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hand, probably too hard. “You promised.”

Geralt closed his eyes and growled. “Jaskier, I can’t just sit here and listen to her bullshit.”

“Why not?” Jaskier pouted. “I’ve done it for years. One day, Geralt, you had to do it for one fucking day. Why couldn’t you?”

“Because I love you!” Geralt snapped.

Jaskier froze and stared at Geralt.

It was an act.

It was all an act.

Except…. what if it wasn’t?

Jaskier lunged forwards and pulled Geralt into a bruising kiss. He needed to, he needed Geralt like he needed the oxygen in the air. He’d been pining after this man for a year and hearing those words, fake or otherwise, it was too much. He felt a prick of tears in his eyes and he sniffed.

“Oh bollocks.” He mumbled against Geralt’s lips. “Fuck, Geralt, you made me cry. You bastard.”

Geralt pulled back to stare intently into Jaskier’s eyes, searching for the answer to some unasked question. “Jask?”

He sniffed and wiped the tears from his eyes. “I love you too, Geralt.”

Geralt brushed his thumb across Jaskier’s cheek and laughed. “You promised you wouldn’t.”

Jaskier snorted. “You promised to be nice to my mother.” He countered.

They both ignored the squeak of protest from the woman in question.

Geralt scoffed. “Some promises are worth breaking.”

“Can someone please explain, what is going on here?” His mother snapped, causing the girl in her arms to start screaming again.

Jaskier gave Geralt another chaste kiss and winked before turning to face his mother with his hands on his hips.

“Mother, dearest. Please return Ciri to her father and kindly fuck off.” He sneered.

“You can’t talk to me that way!” She protested as Ciri was pulled from her arms.

Jaskier tilted his head. “Oh ho ho! I think I can. You!” He pointed at her. “Kicked me out, or do you not remember that lovely little detail?”

“You’re exaggerating.”

“I’m really not. Now as wonderful as all this has been. You should know that this house is not just mine, I live here with my friends.” He snorted. “As if I could afford the rent on a house like this on my own, Geralt here, is not my boyfriend—”

“Yet.” Geralt added with a smirk.

“—Yet.” Jaskier agreed and winked at Geralt. “He agreed to help after spending over two hours mowing the lawn because it was so overgrown it resembled a small forest. The only reason he helped was because I have no idea how to actually do basic gardening tasks because I am terrible at anything that isn’t music and writing.”

“Jaskier.” Geralt growled.

“Oh and falling in love with my incredible gorgeous neighbour before he even asked me out on a date. It’s an oddly specific talent but has served me remarkably well, I think.”

“Julian!” His mother gasped.

“Oh and I did babysit Ciri a few times, but get this… I didn’t even ask for money!” He laughed at the shock on her face. “I did it because Geralt asked me to and she’s actually rather cute.”

“I can’t listen to this.” His mother started to head back to the front door.

Jaskier was absolutely fucking delighted! Oh he should have done this years ago! He should never have let the woman back into his life. It had only hurt him, but then again would he have tried to fix the garden without her? Would he have ever worked up the courage to ask Geralt out?

Probably not…

He scoffed.

She would hate that he had only gotten a boyfriend because of her meddling.

“I’m leaving!” She called over her shoulder as she stormed out the front door.

“Thank fuck for that!” Jaskier waved after her and then turned to go back in the house.

He almost ran straight into Geralt who was stood right behind him with Ciri in one arm.

Thirteen years he’d put up with his mother’s torture. More than that if you counted the years before he’d come out. All that time trying to be someone he wasn’t just to please her when he could have just left her and his shitty family behind.

Why had he’d been so scared?

Geralt pulled him into a hug and kissed his hair with a hum.

Jaskier scowled as the thought hit him. “Geralt?”

“Hmm.”

“Did you really mean it?” He asked as he rested his head on Geralt’s chest, listening to his  heartbeat.

“Yeah. Did you?” Geralt pulled back so they could see each other’s faces.

Jaskier laughed and cupped Geralt’s face in his hands. “Oh, dear heart, I’ve never been more serious in my life.”

Geralt tilted his head and glanced down at Ciri. “And you don’t mind, about Ciri?”

Jaskier giggled.

“Geralt, darling.” He kissed his new boyfriend chastely and then crossed his arms, putting on his best scary Geralt face. “The child must not be an obstacle.”

Geralt shoved him and he fell over laughing, as Geralt stalked back into the living room.

“I regret nothing!” He called after Geralt before scrambling to his feet and chasing after his grumpy, and still insanely hot neighbour/boyfriend. 

________

More witcher fun!

[havertzgalaxy]

Deep Orange - Kai Havertz fanfiction (Chapter One)

A/N: First part of a series I hope to continue. Title is still uncertain for me so this is kind of a place holder. This is a little bit of a dark tale, but I love the idea of Kai in a darker role. If you enjoyed it please give it a like or anything so I know to keep writing! I have a lot more to say about this story :) 

Warnings: Alcohol, drug use, swearing, sexual references 

Summary: Kai Havertz, a rising star in the football world, has just moved to London and he's off to a rocky start. After agreeing to go to a party with one of his old friends from high school, he meets Katrin Hummels, a mysterious, German musician who has lived in the UK for over a decade. Katrin flirts with Kai at this party, and he reveals that he is in a committed relationship. Nevertheless, Kai is heavily intrigued by her and the two quickly become friends. As Kai balances his career and his relationship, Katrin invites him out constantly to parties and clubs, which distract him from his important life goals. Soon, Kai finds himself on a downwards, drunken spiral of addiction and on a collision course with Katrin.

Available here on Tumblr, but here is the link for the fic on wattpad incase anyone prefers to read stories there: https://www.wattpad.com/1094322435-deep-orange-chapter-one 

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Chapter 1 

Let me start with the night I first met Katrin. Now, it seems odd to even think about a time before Katrin had a poisonous grip on my life, and there really isn’t anything in my life worth reciting before her. It was a quiet week in between matches in the Premier League and I had off for seven days, which was rare. I was invited to an evening out with a friend from high school who was studying in London at the time. Hesitantly, I accepted, but made it clear to myself that this was not a friend I would like to hang out with regularly. I mostly accepted to please my mother who had been pressing me to find friends from my previous life so I would eventually return home. So I called up my mother and told her I was finally meeting Leo Sauer. The most German German I had ever known moved to London. And I was meeting with him. 

I had never thought of Leo as a wild card. He pretty much stuck to the rules. A good German boy got good grades and excelled in athletics, but this German boy had blossomed out of the rulebook. Suddenly Leo was a stoner philosophy student with connections to an underground intelligentsia-creative scene, a world woefully unfamiliar to myself. I have had so few nights out in my life, due to the demands of my rigorous football schedule, but I always accepted that absence in my life as a necessary sacrifice. It was not something I ever thought I would miss as I aged, especially if I had a World Cup in my hands. But my first memories of regret started as I took a cab out to the party. I noticed the way the signs on the businesses had a fading and mesmerizing glow, like there was a specific quality of the night that was turning everything neon forever. The air was orange, then it turned red. I thought to myself how odd it felt to go out to a place where I was specifically going to socialize. 

And these feelings worsened when I arrived at the party. I was way out of my element.  I began contemplating my own death as I walked through the doorway at a frustratingly overpriced two story flat in South London. I wondered what such an eccentric party was doing in a rather lame neighborhood, and why it was heavily decorated with memorabilia from India. As I turned each corner I passed another Ganesh, another Vishnu, Brama, until I was greeted with an overwhelming scent of incense and marijuana. The house was very dimly lit and seemed to be decorated in a frantic rush for a party, with multicolored christmas lights sufficing as lighting in long and dark stretches of the house. In one corner there was a red lamp without a lamp shade that provided an intense source of light that you couldn’t look at for two long. The entire house was pulsating to a dull bass line that rather confused me and as I breathed in the display of punk, artistic, and heavily braided London set, I quickly scanned the room for Leo and immediately joined forces with him, promising to myself that I would not to leave his side for the rest of the night. 

“King Kai!” Leo gasped. He reached out his hand and pulled me in for a hug. “I didn’t think you’d make it, man!” 

I switched to German, feeling uncomfortable and vulnerable for the moment in English. “Leo, bro, you look great.” I shuddered at my own words, did I usually sound this stupid? I never have this lack of confidence, what was going on with me? 

“Jasmine, this is my friend Kai.” Leo turned to a beautiful girl sitting beside him. She had her hair fixed behind a vintage bandana and wore large and thick gold hoop earrings. “Kai, this is Jasmine. Her parents usually live with her, but she’s had a free house since last Tuesday. She studies philosophy as well with me at UCL.” 

“Nice one! I’m Kai,” I extended my hand to her, suddenly overly aware of my accent. 

“So great to meet you, Kai. Leo’s been mentioning how he has another friend in London. What are you doing here?” Jasmine revealed a thick London accent, or what I presumed to be one. 

I was puzzled as to why she did not know what I was doing in London, but I responded quickly, “I play with Chelsea Football Club. Sort of recently moved to London, it’s been about three weeks so far.” 

“You’re fucking with me!” Jasmine threw her head back in laughter. 

“No, no. He’s actually totally serious.” Leo replied coldly. 

“Oh no way! That’s wicked, man. I don’t think I ever met anyone on my sixth form’s football team, let alone Chelsea. I don’t give a fuck about football, but I hope your team does well now.” Jasmine cackled some more and Leo cracked open a beer quietly. “I actually don’t think you’re gonna meet anyone at this party who cares about football.” 

Leo looked around and tensed his face awkwardly. 

I smiled and retorted, “I think that’s a good thing!” 

Jasmine darted up from her seat to reconnect with a girl who had arrived apparently called “Therese.” And suddenly Leo and I were momentarily alone. After an awkward silence between us Leo pressed me about my life. I asked him about his, and we spoke on and off about our past life back in Germany. 

For the next thirty minutes, Leo continued to introduce me to a staggering amount of substance-abusing artists, unemployed twenty-two year olds, or trust-funded humanities students. Thinking quickly, I introduced myself as another philosophy student from Germany. I didn’t want to repeat the same conversation I had with Jasmine again. Although they questioned why I couldn’t have a bump of ket or a hit off a joint. After pretending to be someone I was not, I felt nervous. My palms were sweaty and my shirt felt tight. I wondered whether I actually passed off as someone from this corner of society, or if I looked like an outsider. 

“Leo,” I turned to my only friend at this party. “I think I should go before someone takes a picture of this and sends this to my manager. I shouldn’t be at a party with anything illegal.” 

“Kai, if someone takes a picture of you at this party and does something like that they’d never be invited to anything ever again.” Leo explained, “This is a very moral group of people. They’ve certainly had more than enough time to think about their values.” Leo responded with a quick joke. “Just let loose. Tonight might be your last night of this kind of freedom.” 

So I ran across the street with a mask on in an anonymous pursuit of a Best-One and bought as many beers as I possibly could, deciding to get rip-roaring drunk. Something I had not really experienced properly in my life before that night. I returned to hide my beers in a bookshelf upstairs, downed three beers in a row with Leo, and talked to as many people as possible claiming I was this philosophy student of German philosophers. When they tried to talk to me about philosophy I just bullshitted my way through the conversation and we all laughed together. They were too high, I was too drunk. Nothing mattered. None of us were on the same page anyway. The alcohol hit me like a bullet train and I laughed and laughed at the fact that I was finally wasted. Everything felt like a dream. 

In my drunken stupor I could hardly recognize the couch from the floor, although I delicately found the last available place on a couch in the upstairs hallway of the flat. I don’t remember properly reflecting on why there was a couch in a hallway, there just was and I accepted that. Upstairs, the music was slightly softer, and it sounded like it was made years ago and was playing out of an old stereo. Although the upstairs music was struggling to make itself heard over the louder computer-made music coming from downstairs. Deep in my philosophical contemplation over the music, I forgot how my legs and depth perception worked, and I stumbled onto the couch, nearly spilling over my beer onto a girl on my way down. 

“Entschuldig-” I began in German, quickly correcting myself and forgetting how to speak English under the influence, “ah, fuck, sorry, I didn’t mean to do that.” 

Short dark brown hair, a fading tan, big brown eyes with heavy eye makeup, and slightly crooked teeth turned to me at once declaring back in German, “You’re very drunk.” She locked eyes with me deeply. She was direct. Holy shit. “I don’t think we’ve met.” 

“Wow, you speak German as well?” I held her gaze for moments more before feeling something too intense. “I mean,” I stuttered, “I’m Kai. I just moved here a few weeks back.” 

“I’m Katrin.” She smiled wide and took a long sip of her drink. “Of course I speak German.” 

“Of course you speak German? Not every random stranger speaks German.” I teased, leaning my head back against the wall to stop the room from spinning out of control. 

“I’m not every random stranger.” She smacked her lips and leaned back. She had a low, husky voice. A voice that had clearly been weathered by smoking and yelling. Even if her lifestyle choices were made apparent through her voice there was something about this woman that was puzzling me in a wonderful way. She had long intense stares and big brown eyes that powered them. She spoke sharply and lit a joint. I drunkenly inhaled her smoke. “I think I recognize your face. I think you play for Chelsea.” 

Something inside me broke. I freaked out that she had some kind of power over me, as if she was threatening to blow my cover. She stared deeply at me as my lips fumbled to create a response. I raised my eyebrows in shock. Slowly I slurred a response. “Do you watch football?” 

“Not if I don’t have to.” Katrin laughed, she quickly changed expression and replied. “Sorry, I don’t mean to insult.” 

“Nah, I’m not insulted. I think the majority of the world would agree with me that it’s a sport worth watching.” I retorted fast, feeling my breath hot in my throat suddenly. In the other room I could hear some large bouts of laughter and the music changing at irregular intervals. Someone must have been skipping through songs. 

“Let’s just say you win that argument then.” She cooed. “But I must tell you...I’m only lying.” She giggled, “I didn’t even know what Chelsea was until my friend, Jasmine, told me about an hour ago that another German was here. She told me that you play football here or something. And then she was like, ‘no one's gonna recognize him here’ and I was like, ‘as I German maybe I will, is he famous?’ So we googled you and we were like what the fuck. This dude is famous as shit.” 

“Clearly not that famous.” I gestured around the room to the slew of preoccupied people, but quickly returned my gaze back to Katrin. I was utterly transfixed. Each word out of her mouth weighed heavy on my mind. Was she telling the truth? What was her story? She was a challenging conversation, making me nervous for no reason, “We don’t have to talk about that football shit. We don’t even have to talk in German.” I paused and burped. The room was spinning. I felt myself losing control of my reserve. “Sorry I’m quite drunk.” 

“You’re not the only one.” She smiled and lifted up her small bottle of cheap vodka. 

“I...I don’t usually drink. I’m not really allowed.” 

“Not allowed?” Katrin raised her eyebrows. “Says who?” 

“It’s part of my job. I’m not supposed to be rebellious, I’m supposed to be a role model.” I added nervously. 

“You’d be a much better role model if you broke some rules.” She poured a large amount of vodka into her cup before mixing it with a little bit of soda. “Fuck, you’d be my role model.” 

“You’re a rule breaker? That’s not very German of you.” I took a long swig of my beer after I spoke. She stayed silent so I spoke quickly, “Why are you in London anyway?” 

She put her hands in between her face and wiped her hair back, composing herself. “I was forced to move here from Bavaria when I was twelve. My dad got a job in London and the whole family moved except my older brother who seems to get out of everything. Forced to learn English when I was thirteen, forced to go to university, make my parents proud. Then I dropped out. It wasn’t for me. Now I’m what you call a ‘soundcloud musician.’” She explained, “And I’m also what you’d call a lifeguard for a leisure centre near me.” 

“That’s a lot to unpack.” I let out a loud laugh. 

Katrin did not respond right away to me and this freaked me out. I wondered if I said the wrong thing, maybe I should have responded with some compassion and sympathy. Surely she was looking for a more in depth conversation, something which she might find with the intellectual class around us, I was just merely a guy she struck up conversation with because he almost spilled cold beer all over her. Where did I put the rest of my beers, anyway? 

Before my thoughts spiralled off any further, she spoke again. “You have the most unusual face I’ve ever seen.” She touched my cheek with the tips of her fingers and my skin burned. As she moved her fingers across my face, her eyes flared and her pupils dilated. “Like you weren’t born on this planet.” 

Her words sent shivers down my whole body and penetrated deep into my soul. Why was she touching me? What did she mean by any of this? Do I look ugly to her? I felt awkward by her comments, so I laughed nervously and asked suddenly, “What kind of music do you make?” 

Before she could reply, the song had changed to something I couldn’t quite hear and she shouted out, “You fuckers! Turn this shit off!” She turned to me, grabbed two beer cans in her hands, dangling the joint in between her fingers, and did a dance, “I’m sorry, Kai, I’ve got to go make these idiots turn off my music before everyone with a brain leaves this party... But come to my show on Friday and you can see what kinda music I make.” 

“Where is it?” 

“Islington Assembly Hall. 7pm.” She leaned over, and I watched her lips grow closer to mine before she stopped, and whispered, “I wish I could stay longer and talk. I haven’t met anyone this captivating to me in a while… You’re a troubled soul and I can sense that. And God do I wanna fuck you.” 

Her words had floored me so much I could hardly reply, but I mustered, “Unfortunately I am already spoken for.” 

“That’s a shame. I think we were in love in a past life.” She winked, pulled back her intoxicating scent, walked off with a spring in her step before shouting back, “See you Friday!” 

As she left I felt time moving more slowly for the first time in my life. I felt a sense of impending doom, while simultaneously feeling an inexplicably intense ecstasy. I knew from the moment I met her, Katrin was a ticking time bomb. For the rest of the night I stayed on the couch in the upstairs hallway at a party in a forgotten corner of London, completely transfixed.

[burnedbyshoto]

scoops

— In what was to be a summer of excitement, love, and adventure, you’re doomed to a summer working a job to pay some bills. But hey, who said romance still wouldn’t find a way to work while working at Scoops Ice Cream Parlor? —

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pairing: kaibara sen x reader

warnings: fluff, cursing, modern!au, ice cream shop!au

word count: 6,361

a/n: this is for the bnharem summer collab!!!! I am so very tired, when am I not at this point... um... yes, kaibara is def my fav class 1-b boy, sorry not sorry.

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The best part about summer… well, you really couldn’t begin to list what you loved about it. There was no bad part about summer. Sure, the days were hot and humid, but they were long and bright for so long you could go and do things for countless hours. You were able to stay out in the sun and feel the heated rays against your skin — road trips with friends and days when you had no sleep and those when you only slept.

Summer was indeed the best time of the year.

This summer was supposed to be the best, with your saved money from working at the student store for this last semester, you were ready to go places with your friends. Explore the unknown all in the name of youth.

There indeed wasn’t anything better about this time of the year than that. 

Cute clothes, cute bathing suits, and cute accessories, as you trailed out of your classroom with your final finally done and completed, you were ready to zoom on toward home.

This was going to be the best summer ever, you thought, your heart racing in anticipation at the thought of your best friend pulling up at your home with a car full of friends. Your parents waving you off as you descended into the purpling and pink sky with nothing but an uproarious scream and celebration.

You really hoped you’d find someone attractive… maybe a summer fling?!

You giggled at the thought, your face warming even more under the deep sun rays, your body avoiding passing commuters.

This was going to be your summer!

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“You’re… you’re kidding me,” you deadpanned staring at your mother, who was in a full-body cast. 

She looked at you with a sheepish emotion on her face, her eyes full of sorrow yet no pain. The moment you had gotten home and had switched from your finals outfit to something more practical, you had gotten a phone call from the hospital. It seems that your mother, in all her clutz, had tumbled down the staircase at her work. Through this, she managed to break both arms and legs, two ribs and broke her collarbone. 

“M… Mom,” you groaned at the way she was laughing in total embarrassment; after all, miraculously, she was in little pain despite being hospitalized. “How did this happen?! Why did you — oh my god…” 

“There was a mosquito flying by my head, and well… I tripped and fell,” she laughed loudly, smiling in gratitude when the nurse came to adjust her pillows. 

“Why were you even leaving the office?! It isn’t even lunchtime for you, and you always eat lunch on the roof?” you questioned more, your arms folding across your arms. 

“Well, um… you know how there have been cuts at the office, I just… I was let go,” she whispered in a small voice, face twisted with embarrassment and shame. While you wanted to feel sorry for your mother because after all, she had suffered horrendously, there was a quick realization of what those words meant.

Medical insurance was now gone.

“How are we going to pay for this?!”

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Having to wave your friends away with tears rolling down your face was hard. Their faces sullen at the fact that you had handed over your entire job savings to begin paying off the massive debt your mother built in a single minute. You also knew you couldn’t return to your job at the university, they were closed during this time.

There wasn’t much you could even find while looking around. Your resume wasn’t strong enough to earn jobs that would help your future career, not when competing against graduate students. The local shops and malls were already filled to completion; they always prioritized the highschoolers anyways. 

You had almost thought it was pointless to even be searching until you stumbled across a corner ice cream parlor. It was the closest ice cream parlor to your house, and if you thought hard enough, you definitely remembered coming when you were small, and fortunately for you, they were hiring on the spot.

So here you were, in an old t-shirt, shorts, an apron fastened on, and your hair free from your face. The owner of the ice cream parlor showed you around, pointing at the different things that were lying about. He was a simple tour guide, he had told you, a simple introduction to what was lying about. Your coworkers would be the ones to teach you how to create the unique menu items, teach you how to work behind the scenes. 

The smile on your face was stiff and very unnatural as he showed you about, stories of the old employee he had that had quit on him because they were moving suddenly. It was apparently a struggle for him to find willing workers at this time. He was also sure to name off the three other employees that worked here, and by the sounds of it, two of the three names were retired people who were so bored that they sought out a low-stakes job.

“Ah, there he is!” he exclaimed, his hands thrusting outwards as a tall, dark-haired man emerged from the back, a gallon of ice cream in his hands while he looked lost in thought. “This is Kaibara Sen! My youngest…er, second youngest employee now! He will be handling your training, he is very competent and well… a much better explainer than I am!” 

You tried not to stare too much at the man, but he was for lack of a better term, beautiful. Dark hair, brown eyes, and a look on his face that just told you he definitely did not want to be here… it was basically love at first sight for you. 

“Kaibara, this is y/l/n, our newest member of the family here at Scoops!” the owner exclaimed, his cheeks warm and his body brimming with excitement. “Please explain everything, I have to go now! My daughter should be out of school, and I have to go pick her up!”

You watched in silent awkwardness as the man picked up all his items and rushed out of there without a single word. Smiling awkwardly, you returned your attention to Kaibara, who was studying you without saying a word. Your smile began to pinch at your cheeks, the strain of the faux smile beginning to tire you out to completion while he changing the empty gallon of ice cream for the new one — you had to will yourself from staring at the very, very nicely toned arms of his. 

“Hold this,” he spoke, his voice low and flat, almost entirely passive and bored while he pushed the empty cardboard into your arms. You hitched a breath in your surprise, your head nodding in your overall confusion. 

The tub was cold in your arms, contradicting the overall harsh rays of the sun. You watched as he turned on his heel, moving back to the door, and you stayed put, your eyes wide in confusion and your increasing inability to stop checking him out. “Are you going to stand there all day, or are you going to follow?”

Blood flooded to your face in your embarrassment, your head dropping while you rushed after him.

Needless to say, your first day on the job was an interesting one.

While your first impression of Kaibara was that he was hot enough to melt you into a puddle, you found yourself at a quick and immovable realization that he was an overall dick. He was disgustingly bland, his tone only riling you up when he crudely pointed out your mistakes and issues. He had explained to you in five minutes how the entire ice cream parlor worked — yes, in five minutes, and yes, he expected that you memorized and retained all that information.

Refill the ice cream when there’s only five centimeters left. Don’t touch the soft-serve ice cream machine because it often broke. Don’t flirt with any customers, don’t destroy the whip cream swirls on the ice cream sundaes. Don’t ever go into the freezer without someone knowing, don’t forget to clean the counters every hour if it isn’t that busy, don’t forget… well, you got it. There were many don’t’s in his vocabulary surrounding the rules and regulation of this ice cream parlor. Furthermore, he had thrown you to the wolves because the moment he finished up the rules here at Scoops where they ‘live to bring a lick of happiness one scoop at a time,’ a customer had walked in and of course, because beginners luck was not a thing, ordered the hardest thing on the menu.

Your back had never been sweatier, and your arms trembled as he practically breathed down your neck. There was no stopping this incessant mother birding of his, and your ears seared with heat when he called you out for every mistake you made.

“I thought I told you to not do that!” he muttered just loud enough for the customer to ask with worry if everything was okay. 

The second you had handed of the quad-layered ice cream sundae that was most definitely a kickstarter to diabetes did you almost collapse in gratefulness of being done with that wretched thing. The customer did, however, frown significantly at the sight of the very ugly sundae, and you wanted to collapse in your failure. 

The two of you were not… compatible coworkers, and that was apparent as the summer sun while the day went on.

He ridiculed your every technique, he frowned at the way your voice pitched when you welcomed customers, scoffed when you were overly sweet because he would love to see you being that kind in a month, and he glared a hole through your head the moment you tried to socialize while there was nothing to do.

So when the summer sun had set for the night and your arm burned from the repetitive and laborious action of scooping ice cream all day, you walked out of Scoops with a wavering bottom lip. This was going to be a long summer.

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“For someone who’s been here a whole year more than me, I’d’ve thought you were better than this,” you sang, pocketing the extra cash you got as a bonus for the fantastic and helpful review you had gotten on Yelp. Yes, America’s disaster of an app had finally made its way to Japan, and three weeks ago, your boss said anyone with a useful review on top of a five-star recommendation would get a bonus. You were always getting it. “What was that you were saying when I first began? Don’t suck? Hm, well, I think you need to get that under control on your own part.”

Kaibara rolled his eyes so hard you swore you could hear him do it. You tried not to allow the prideful smirk to become too apparent while you went about your shift reorganizing the front of the store. You had just managed through a demanding crowd of children, couples, and the elderly, and it was a mess. 

It had only been the two of you today, too (the owner only worked the register, leaving the two of you to make the orders). While there was no getting along for either of you, there was a good work ethic between you that allowed you to work efficiently together. But of course, the teasing and taunting from your voice while you graciously took the extra cash made Kaibara seethe.

It was an unspoken, spoken competition between the two of you, and to make things worse for the environment between everyone, the both of you sorely got along. 

He had called you incompetent, you called him lazy. He called you a useless employee, you called him fifth-rate at best. There was just a lot of tension between you and the man you had once thought was painfully attractive.

“It doesn’t count when you beg customers for the comment. Of course, they’re gonna take pity on you and your ass life; why do you think people give spare change to the homeless?” Kaibara smoothly stated, his fingers digging the cleaning rag harder onto a piece of fallen dried, sticky ice cream.

You nearly cracked the waffle cones in your gloved hands.

“At least I’m the one with the extra cash in your pocket!”

“It fell out actually, free change now,” Kaibara stated, pointed at the rolled money on the floor and quickly scooping it from the floor well before you could snatch it. 

Your face twisted when you ended a near chest to chest with him, his eyes seeming to read you entirely while you definitely met his gaze, yet also managed to look cities away. Your upper lip curled with your frustration, and you shoved his chest, grabbing at the money in his hand.

Unfortunately for you, he was both quicker than you, stronger than you, and taller than you. He merely rose his clenched fist well above his head and smirked at how your face blanched at his actions.

“You’re a fucking dick!” you yelled, your hands latching onto his bicep and pulling down with all your strength. “Give me my damn tip!”

“It was on the ground, it’s finders keepers,” was his smooth response, his arm somehow freakishly strong enough to fight off your full weight and stay defiantly up. 

Well, you definitely understood why no one liked working with the two of you, you were both annoying together. 

“Kaibara Sen, if you don’t give me back my damn money right now, I will—” you were interrupted by how his lips pulled past his teeth into a fierce, biting grin.

“You’ll what? Punch me? It hasn’t hurt the last ten times you’ve tried.” He taunted you with no mercy, his head tilting just the slightest bit to further his point and to have your blood pumping yet again.

“That’s only because I wasn’t trying before!” you counter, your fingers pressing into his palm, your nails beginning to dig into his flesh while he tried not to let on that it hurt.

“You’ll have a friend of yours write a five-star review for you, and write a complaint about me?” he asked, bringing back to light the one time that your friends left not one, but fifteen five-star reviews. Of course, a handful of them had also decided to include that they were not happy with the treatment they received from Kaibara — not that it was possible given that they were not anywhere near here. 

“Well, I didn’t know they were going to do that! All I was doing was exchanging stories about how I was working while they were all out having fun!” you attempt to defend, but it sounds weak because well, it happened.

“Ah, okay, I’ll try to remember that when I have my friends doing the same to you,” Kaibara sarcastically smiled, his arm finally dropping so that his fist was in your face, but it still remained defiantly closed. “I mean it’s only fair, and they didn’t abandon me on a whole summer long getaway!”

“I told them it was okay to leave, you jerk!” you grit out, your fingers trying to slip under his so that you could rip the money from his hand, but yours were beginning to sweat.

“Ouch, a jerk? Don’t hurt my feelings, please y/n, it’s making me tear up,” Kaibara sighed, his eyes very much interested in the way you were failing to get his fingers to open up.

“D-Don’t call me y/n! We are not friends enough for you to try acting casual with me!”

“Should I call you y/l/n-sama instead?”

“W… WHAT?!”

“Yeah, sounded weird to me too. I mean, after all, I don’t garner any respect for you, so why would I use that, to begin with!”

If you were a bird, you were absolutely positive that your feathers would be bristled and standing while you glared up at Kaibara with a near snarl on your lips. He matched your glare, his typically passive eyes ignited while the both of you neared in this hate-filled magnetism. 

“Would you two please stop! This is the time for summer flings! Not swinging fists!” 

The both of you whirled around to see your practically sobbing employer watch on with tears rolling down his face. He had been the most disheartened at the fact that both you did not get along at all, it was his biggest regret he had said many times over. While both of you did not fly twenty meters apart, Kaibara’s fist relaxed, and you managed to retrieve your money back from him with a satisfied ‘hmph’ before turning around.

Really you knew both of you together were insufferable. But to your credit, both of you were always civil in front of the customers. Well, at least polite enough for no one to speak up. But as you returned to your place by the corner to continue cleaning with your rag, you couldn’t help but look behind you at Kaibara, who was also staring back at you.

What an insufferable prick!

He stared at you, his lips pressing into a smile that you refused to admit made your heart hammer just the slightest bit faster in your chest, and the moment he caught on, the smile became a smirk before his tongue stuck out, and his finger pulled at his eye — or in other words, he threw you an Akanbe… well, your boss then had a ten-minute talk about how it was not okay to throw dirty rags at your coworkers.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

It wasn’t that Kaibara didn’t like you.

No, of course not, there was no point in garnering unpleasant feelings towards someone who didn’t matter to him at the end of the day, but sometimes… sometimes he really thought you being a piece of shit just to enact rage and violence from him. After all, as part of working at the ice cream parlor, their break time leisure was always brought with a free sundae with whatever you wanted because you worked, and tips were only really brought in by the rare American tourist.

But you were doing this on purpose. 

“I want to add a caramel and chocolate drizzle, don’t forget to add peanuts… should I get whipped cream??? Is there enough??? I know we used almost half of our weekly supply on one kid?” Kaibara watched as you stroked your chin, ordering your custom-made sundae while you created this sugar-sweet dessert based on what he hated to create. “You know what… yes, I want some whipped cream, but I also thought that you could maybe smash it up like at Cold Stone? It makes it easier to eat.”

“I’ll spit in your ice cream if you make me do that.” Kaibara deadpanned, his fingers twitching on the serving spoons. If he was going to smash your toppings on the counter, he just cleaned, he was going to throw this in your face.

“And violate Healthcode Section 242?!” you gasped loudly, almost offended that he would do such a thing, and he wondered if you were pulling a number out of your ass. “Do it, I dare you! I really would like to have you replaced!”

He watched you triumphantly stick your nose in the air, your lips set in a victorious grin, but he just sighed. “You’re a fucking pain in my ass.”

You seemed to have expected that from him, but you still played it off in a shocked manner with your hands pressing to your cheeks in your horrified expression.

“Oh thank goodness, I thought for a second there you were going to say something horrendously rude!” you laugh, your hands stretching out for your finished sundae, and he watched your tongue wet your lips while you brought it close to you. “My mom tells me that all the time, and she’s still in a full-body cast.”

“And that’s relevant because?” he asked, his eyes blinking slowly, his head tilting in his faux boredom — he wouldn’t admit it, but he was never bored with you around.

“Nope, totally irrelevant! But I figured your life is so boring that my daily news about my bedridden mother must be like what Fashion Week is for Youtubers,” you chide, walking over to an empty table and plopping down on the chair with overdramatic confidence and slight exhaustion.

“I think maybe you should stop talking and eat that ice cream before your break is over.” he returned, his hip pressing into the cold counter while he cleaned up the small mess he had made creating your monster of a snack.

“You’re probably right… your small brain needs a break.”

Your words were nothing new, but he still stared at you with a growing smirk while you brought your spoon of ice cream to your mouth and took your first big satisfying bite… well, that was until you tasted it. “EW! HEY! KAIBARA! THIS IS FUCKING DISGUSTING WHAT THE HELL DID YOU DO TO MY SUNDAE?!”

“I added cherry sauce.” He shrugged, his arms folding across his chest while your face fell, your spoon digging into the sweet cream to shove the black sauce, which was not chocolate, to the side.

“THAT’S THE—”

“Worst? I know!” Kaibara nearly snorted at the defeated, almost depressing look that overcame his face. He wanted to dig more at you because of that, but was unfortunately interrupted when the front door opened and in came a customer. “Oh, welcome.”

He didn’t want to look away from the fact that you were pouting and eating your sundae still; your guilt of wasting food outweighing your distaste much more. But a weird twist of his stomach made his eyebrows scrunch when he noticed how the incoming customer stared at you. It was a look of interest, and while he didn’t even like you, why was he feeling like this.

He ignored it, shaking his head, he focused on the customer who said they were still looking, and he sighed.

It meant nothing… right?

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Well, it finally happened. 

Today was your day off, but at precisely 12:35 p.m., your phone violently buzzed with an incoming call from your boss. You had been out on the backyards lawn trying to sunbathe with your towel on the dirt floor, trying to live the best summer experience you could. Your music had been blasting, so when the call came, you quickly picked it up to figure who was calling and why.

“Hello?”

“Y/N WE NEED YOU IN THE SHOP RIGHT NOW! THE EVENT IS CRAZY RIGHT NOW, AND THERE’S A LINE OUT THE DOOR! I’LL GIVE YOU OVERTIME JUST GET HERE NOW!”

There wasn’t even a chance to argue, a chance to say you were doing more important things, because the line ended immediately and you groaned loudly. To work it was, it seemed. 

It took you fifteen minutes to get to Scoops Ice Cream Parlor, and you were surprised, to say the least, about how false your boss’s statement was. It wasn’t a line out the door, it was a line that went out the door and wrapped around the block?! 

You locked eyes with Kaibara, who was also apparently called in today, and he merely raised an eyebrow at you before continuing what he was doing. In forty-five seconds flat, you had managed to get yourself ready to assist and were on it. 

It was times like this that everyone was grateful for how efficiently you and Kaibara worked together, as odd as it was. The two of you worked on multiple orders together, passing things off to one another, gathering items, and sharing. It was done wordlessly, effortlessly, and efficiently; it indeed was not a reflection of how you two behaved normally. 

In an hour and a half, the line had finally reached the last ten people, and you could almost cry in relief. 

“Ah! A soft served vanilla ice cream with a chocolate drizzle! Y/n!” your boss commanded, and you nodded, your sweating cheek pressing to your shoulder to wipe whatever you could off. Without a word, you went back to the soft serve machines and without so much of a thought, pulled on the lever. 

You quickly realized that pulling on that lever was a mistake, not a mistake you purposefully made, but a mistake. 

Do not touch the soft-serve machine because it often broke… that’s what Kaibara told you all those weeks ago, but when he meant broken, he didn’t mean it didn’t produce ice cream. No, no, no. That would be too nice by the universe, after all! When he said it broke, you never expected the soft-serve ice cream to begin to pour from the machine, with no stop in sight. 

“OH NO!”

The white vanilla cream poured endlessly from the machine, and you shrieked while trying to keep it on the cone you brought with you, but you were no expert in making those Instagram famous towers. Eventually, you watched in horrific slow motion as the ice cream tipped over and splattered on the floor, and in your moment of not knowing what to do, you attempted to gather the ice cream in your hands instead of letting it fall to the floor.

“Oh my god, stop! Please stop!” you chanted, your hands jiggling onto the lever hoping that it would make it stop, but it was to no avail.

With every passing second, your arm filled with more ice cream, growing colder and stickier with every moment. 

“What the fuck is taking you so long — oh my god!”

“KAIBARA PLEASE HELP ME!!!!” you sobbed, feeling like a pathetic toddler of all things as your foot desperately tried to drag the trash can near you to keep the building icecream from falling onto the floor, but your legs were too short it seemed. 

“What did you do?!” he hissed, running over slamming the trash can near you, but slipped on the fallen cone and crashed into you. 

Much like how the ice cream cone had fallen in slow motion, Kaibara crashing into you, exploding the armful of ice cream gathered in your arms everywhere, sent you both to the ground. 

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!” you sobbed in your hysteric laughter, the both of you now fumbling on the ground, the ice cream quickly seeping past the threads of the apron to seep into your clothes and burn your bodies slowly. “YOU MADE THIS SO MUCH WORSE!”

“Oh my god, would you stop?! Please stop yelling!”

“Get off me first! You’re so heavy!”

“The floors are so damn slippery, I can’t!”

“Roll off, you idiot!”

It was a chaotic, wild attempt by the two of you to calm down the machine that wouldn’t stop spitting out ice cream until it was empty. While no one else had seen the two of yours struggles to get into your feet (a feat that took twenty minutes and provided hilarious footage for your coworkers who watched it before closing), the both of you couldn’t speak of what happened without feeling like you needed to crumble away. 

Thankfully, both of you were sent home afterward, before the ice cream could glue into your skin. But as you were walking out, your arms not being able to bend at the disgusting horror of the sticky firmness of the dried ice cream on your skin, you were surprised when a hand grabbed your shoulder and stopped you. 

“I wanted to apologize,” Kaibara says the second you turn to look at him. 

“What?” you stupidly respond, your eyes blinking rapidly as if you couldn’t understand him. 

“I wanted to apologize about how I’ve been… how I’ve been behaving. We aren’t really friends, but after all that today, I just… can we start over?”

And somehow those four little words sparked a friendly fire in your core, and your lips stretched into a smile as sweet as the ice cream on your body. 

“Yeah, I think we can.”

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

This date was going horribly.

About nine days ago, a customer had walked in, seen you moping with an ice cream sundae made by Kaibara with black cherry sauce, and had asked you out. You were sure what exactly willed you into saying yes; after all, you didn’t know the guy personally, but here you were. Without wanting to seem rude, you definitely thought this date was going horrendously, and you wanted to get out, not that this man noticed anyways.

“Do you want to get some ice cream?” he asked, a smile spreading on his face while both of you exited the movie theater.

You thought about it, Kaibara wasn’t working today if you remembered correctly, and with Scoops being the only ice cream joint nearby, you weren’t about to stroll in on a date with him there. Since the whole broken soft-serve ice cream machine, both of you had taken to be friends like honey and flies. 

The bickering didn’t stop, not one single bit, but the tone and the atmosphere behind the genuine arguments no longer felt like an introduction to some World War and now instead teasing and playing between friends. However, admitting and seeing that you were friends brought up an issue that you never thought was going to happen again — you once more found yourself attracted to the dark-haired man.

Yes, like some overzealous whore, you were out on a date while having very real feelings for your coworker.

But well, going back to whether you should go get ice cream, it would give you yet another reason to speak up at all.

“Sure!”

But of course, summer was not being your friend this summer it seemed, because when he held open the all too familiar front door, and you walked in with a grateful smile. You felt your heart twist and die the second that Kaibara walked out from the back, his already neutral face falling into stony coldness at the sight of you and your date.

“Welcome,” was his unwelcoming call. 

Please let there be some freak accident that causes time to reset so you wouldn’t have to do this, you prayed, trying to calm the blood that threatened to rush to your face while your date began to talk to Kaibara. Your eyes glued immediately over onto the menu as if you hadn’t already memorized everything up there. Still, even with your attention very focused on the menu, you knew by heart already, you could feel those dark, nearly black eyes piercing through you. 

When Kaibara was asked to cover a coworkers shift today, he expected it to be busier than it was today. He guessed that’s just how it was at times when the heat of the summer day failed to make anyone want any ice cream, but while it was nice to get paid without doing much work, it definitely sucked doing nothing. Which is why when the front door chime sounded, he offered to take on the customer… but he didn’t expect to see you here with some random guy. 

He didn’t know why it bothered him really, the both of you were finally getting along superbly but seeing you there next to some guy who was trying to talk about just how amazed he was by all the ice cream flavors and how he met you here soured his mood intensely. At the same time, he continued to look at you. You were staring at the menu; he knew you could recite to the very typo on the board because he had riled you into memorizing it within the first week. 

But when your sheepish gaze met his, Kaibara did not want to admit that the bizarre emotions he was feeling both disappeared altogether and intensified utterly. 

“What d’ya want, y/l/n?” he asked you after taking down this assholes order. He took to your gaze, trying not to have some lame physical reaction to how he felt when your eyes warmed at the sight of him. 

It meant nothing, it meant nothing, it meant nothing. 

“I’ll have the caramel banana sundae,” you ordered with a smile while your date grinned after your selection. 

“You really order the worst things on this menu, don’t you?” he couldn’t help but jab, knowing you would instantly focus on this mindless banter. 

“Kaibara, I swear, say that to my face one more time!” you instinctively yelled. Although you were here on some date, he would confirm later (and would then have to internally admit that he was, in fact, jealous) he liked the fact that you spent the majority of your date in here talking to him.

⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆⋄⋆⊹⋄⋆

Sometimes you really wished that arresting the sun was an actual concept. 

Why in the world was it even legal for the temperature to be 114°F and for workplaces to still be expected to run normally. God, it was so hot that it only felt normal in your ice cream parlor employment that your only moment of grace was when you walked into the back freezers. 

“I think I’m slowly dying,” you whispered to Kaibara while you arranged the ice cream for the waiting customers. 

Today had been reasonably busy, everyone coming in and exclaiming that they needed some ice cream to combat the summer sun, and you always nodded in agreement. But you guessed despite the blistering heat that couldn’t even stay away from the ice cream shop, you appreciated being able to suffer together with Kaibara. 

“If you die and leave me here, I will kill you.” Kaibara’s eyes narrowed at you, and you laughed, shoving him with your shoulder. 

“Good luck!”

You handed the ice cream concoctions to the family and watched as they seem delighted to have it before walking away. 

After a perfect steady flow of customers, the parlor was at the moment empty, and you looked at the different ice cream gallons in search to see which needed to be refilled. You counted five, and you cringed, the both of you had been slacking it seemed. 

“Come help me switch out the ice cream,” you demanded, spinning on your heel and marching off back towards the freezer. 

Since your date, it had been… awkward with Kaibara, you hated to admit it.

The fact that he had seen you on a date was never again brought up, but it seemed that maybe it should have been considering the very awkwardness that bled into your relationship. Sure, he was beyond pleasant with you; as a matter of fact, there was hardly any bickering between the two of you because whenever it started, he would bite his tongue to keep from returning any of your lines — and you knew he had some comebacks. 

You walked into the freezer first, reciting the ice cream flavors that needed to be replaced like a mantra to avoid multiple trips to and from the freezer. With Kaibara coming in behind you, you immediately walked over towards the frozen gallons and began to pull out the flavors that you needed to take. 

“How’s your boyfriend?” Kaibara asked suddenly while you placed two of the gallons onto the floor so that you could grab the other ones. 

You felt your spine stiffen at his words, your eyes wide while you turned behind you to see that Kaibara had also grabbed another two of the flavors which lead you with one more, which was nearest to you. 

“Not my boyfriend,” you corrected awkwardly, your ears burning while you walked carefully over to the gallon in the far back wall. “I didn’t like him, I was promised a free ticket to a movie, and you know with my mom and everything I couldn’t pass it up.”

Without even looking at him, you knew that Kaibara had nodded his head in understanding.

“So you don’t like him?” he asked, his voice seeming to come from a few steps behind you, which caused a shiver to roll down your spine, but you mentally blamed it on the freezing air. 

“No, I um… I like someone else,” you respond honestly, trying not to let on your embarrassed and flustered state while trying to take the gallon of ice cream out from the rack but was currently failing. “Stupid fucking ice cream!”

But your frustration towards the ice cream container was quickly and almost immediately forgotten the second his unexplainably warm hands grabbed onto your shoulders and spun you around. Your eyes widened at the sight of his slight shaggy black hair falling onto his eyes while he looked at you and then down at your lips.

“Am I that someone else?” he asked, and all the air in your lungs froze over and died. He read you like a book, and the soft chuckle that left his lips made your body vibrate with warmth as he nodded his head in perfect understanding. “Lucky guess, huh… you think I can kiss you, y/n?”

A simple sentence crossed his tongue, and yet your mind spun at his words as if he had offered you only the greatest riches in the world, and you found yourself nodding your head while reaching up to meet his own eager lips into a scorching kiss. You weren’t sure how long the kiss lasted, only knowing that with your fingers twisted into his soft locks, his fingers digging into your waist and keeping you breathlessly near, and the buzz that came alive with your dancing lips. He inexplicably and irrevocably overwhelmed you, and the near frantic breathing that passed through your nose was evidence of that. 

By the time you two parted, you felt the world turn into some rose gold haze while you stared up at his smiling face.

The two of you would later find out that you had been locked in the freezer together, but on the hottest day of the year, next to someone who kissed you with enough intensity and passion that the freezer couldn’t even make you shiver, it was all okay.

[the-river-person]

Greatness

With a resounding crash the wooden barrel lid he was using as a target was shattered as the bones hit it straight on. Undyne cheered enthusiastically from where she sat and watched from the gate. Though Papyrus still came daily to her house for his training, things had changed here too. He’d long passed spaghetti and moved on to other dishes. Almost all of what Undyne made was fairly inedible anyway, but neither of them really minded much, even if the house ended up on fire while they were trying to make a pie. Neither one was entirely sure how fire had gotten involved this time, given that they were attempting a recipe for a frozen custard pie, but the house was definitely blazing merrily and the light of the dancing flames was reflected off the smooth black volcanic stone that was plentiful in Waterfall’s many caves and tunnels. It still burned now, because they hadn’t bothered to try and put it out, and had instead switched to the more aggressive part of his training. Combat. There was no question now that Papyrus was ready for the guard, and Undyne was quickly running out of further challenges or tests to give him before she’d be forced into a decision. Both were aware of the reason for the delay. Nobody was really certain what was to become of the Royal Guard. It was an organization that had served the Royal Family for generations, and had only recently turned all its efforts and focus onto humans. But Undyne’s entire career had been within that final stretch where the humans were the focus, and she was the oldest member of the guard despite her young age. None of the others still in the guard had joined till after her, and when Gerson had passed on the reigns it was her they followed diligently. Sure it wasn’t impossible to return the guard to its normal functions of protecting the Royal Family and acting as peacekeepers of the Underground. But would they be needed? Or wanted? It would be the decision of the King and Queen, who were still on uncertain terms. There were a lot of things that were still being figured out. Until they knew the fate of the Guard, Undyne would wait. Papyrus knew it was to prevent him from getting his hopes up, and he appreciated that, but still he wanted so badly to be a part of it all. Of course there were still some things the Guard would be needed for. Though the Human stayed with the Queen and wandered with her wherever she went, many Monsters still feared them. Papyrus himself had seen entire classes at the new school suddenly go empty as Monsters made various mumbled excuses to slip away even as the Queen sadly watched them from the corner of her eye. All because of the little Human who sat quietly in the corner, watching passively as everything moved forward. He understood their fear, of course he did. Even the smallest of human children, with enough Determination, was powerful enough to spell the end of the Underground a thousand times over. But they’d stopped, hadn’t they? They’d chosen a different path, a path of mercy. It was sad that Sans had been the one to confront the Human so many times. Flowey had described how Sans had been the last one left, the only one who dared to stop the Human before they went too far. And then again, and again, until they simply did things that way because it was how they’d always done it. Why Sans had to fight, he didn’t know, but Papyrus felt sure that those days were over. Whatever the reasons, things had changed, and change of this kind wasn’t easily wiped away, not even with a Reset. Still that didn’t seem to be enough for most Monsters. They wanted justice for past deeds, justice for all the pain humans had caused them, not just this one little one, though they’d certainly done more than any other. And they wanted the source of their fear to go away. To stop scaring them. A quarter of an hour later he’d left Undyne and was thoughtfully trudging through the dark and damp tunnels of Waterfall. A sound reached him, the sound of something digging in the dark, of the rustle of leaves, of very soft muttering. “FLOWEY,” he said out loud. The flower had never managed to sneak up on him properly just yet, that he knew of anyway. “I KNOW IT’S YOU. YOU CAN COME OUT NOW.” “Drat. I was hoping I had you that time,” said the little golden flower as it popped out of the shadows to his left with a bright and cheerful smile. “Do you think you could let me win, just the once?” Striking a dramatic pose, Papyrus wagged his finger admonishingly at the flower. “NYEHEHEH! YOU KNOW BETTER THAN THAT. EVERYTHING THE GREAT PAPYRUS DOES WILL BE DONE TO THE HIGHEST STANDARDS! IF YOU WISH TO DEFEAT ME, YOU WILL HAVE TO SIMPLY TRY HARDER! BUT DON’T WORRY...” He smiled down at his little friend. “I BELIEVE IN YOU.” The expression on the face of the flower was not the one he was expecting. He’d hoped for gratitude or laughter, or even just the usual perpetual cheer that Flowey presented. But instead he only found irritation. “How do you always do that?” snarled Flowey. “Every single time you stayed true. No matter how many resets or details, no matter how bad things got, no matter how many times your attacks beat the human down, no matter how murderous they became before they reached you. You never once let loose. No death, nothing. You just forgive and forgive and forgive even when it hurts you! But you’re one of the strongest Monsters here! Nearly strong enough to be a Boss Monster even! Why do you keep believing in people who can’t change? Who don’t want to be better?” By the time Flowey had managed to get everything out, he was shouting, his little face screwed up in frustration. For a long moment, Papyrus said nothing, waiting, and the flower started to look regretful of the outburst, as if he’d remembered that his friend wouldn’t just forget anymore. “BECAUSE I CHOOSE TO.” Flowey’s face jerked back up to stare at him, and Papyrus’s gaze was unflinching as he gazed back. This outburst must have been building for a long time, he should give the best answer he could. “I KNOW WHAT THE WORLD IS LIKE, WHAT PEOPLE, MONSTERS AND HUMANS ALIKE, HAVE DONE AND ARE STILL WILLING TO DO. BUT I KNOW WHAT THE WORLD COULD BE LIKE. WE COULD BE KINDER, WE COULD BE BETTER. I CAN’T CHANGE THE WORLD BY MYSELF. I TRIED FOR A WHILE, AND PEOPLE JUST WROTE ME OFF AS NAIVE, FORGETTABLE, AND BLIND TO THE WAY THINGS ARE. SO WHEN SANS AND I MOVED TO SNOWDIN I MADE A DIFFERENT PROMISE. I CAN’T CHANGE THE WORLD, BUT I CAN CHANGE ME, AND THAT’S A GOOD START. I’LL BE THE BEST PAPYRUS, THE GREATEST PAPYRUS, I CAN BE.” He had the flower’s attention now. It was clear that in all the Resets, in all the time Flowey had known him that he couldn’t remember much of, he had never told him this part of the story. Flowey gazed at him in fascination, hanging on every word like it was pure gold. “EVEN THE WORST PERSON, SOMEONE WHO HAS FALLEN SO FAR THAT THEY FEEL LIKE THEY’RE SEPARATED FROM EVERYTHING, TRAPPED BY THEIR OWN CHOICES, BY THE PERSON THEY MADE THEMSELVES INTO, CAN STILL CHANGE. EXECUTION POINTS, LEVELS OF VIOLENCE... THEY DON’T MAKE YOU EVIL, THEY’RE JUST NUMBERS, RECORDS OF THINGS YOU’VE ALREADY DONE. THEY MIGHT MEAN TERRIBLE AWFUL THINGS, EVEN EVIL THINGS, BUT THEY DON’T MAKE YOU EVIL. THAT’S A DECISION YOU MAKE YOURSELF EVERY MOMENT OF EVERY DAY. JUST LIKE SOMEONE CAN DECIDE TO BE GOOD.” It was odd how often the flower’s expression changed. Sometimes Papyrus thought it was almost like looking at someone who tried on different masks for different feelings, someone who didn’t want to show their real face underneath all the fakeness on top. Flowey was looking not just taken aback, but almost appalled. Not all of the flower’s history was a mystery to him, Sans had never been the most trusting, but even before the Resets had been revealed to everyone, the smaller skeleton had showed a certain level of distrust, or almost fury towards Flowey. When something had happened and Sans locked himself away for days on end, and Papyrus had stumbled upon the Resets through his growing Determination to help, it was Flowey he’d looked for. Though Flowey had only spoken of the Human and of Resetting time and of Sans, there was enough to know that there was more to the story. And Sans had only confirmed that by acting so frightened about where Papyrus had gotten the information. Whatever Flowey had done, whatever he was, it wasn’t good or kind. He could imagine the little bright smile staying just as happy and cheerful even as all the Monsters in the Underground perished one by one. But that horrified expression, something he’d said had certainly struck a chord, and not one that Flowey liked. “I WOULD NOT BE THE GREAT ANYTHING IF, WHEN A PERSON WHO WAS SO TRAPPED BY THEMSELVES CAME ALONG, AND I DIDN’T OFFER THEM THE CHANCE THEY MIGHT HAVE BEEN WAITING FOR TO CHANGE. WHAT IF THAT WAS THE ONLY OPPORTUNITY? IF I GAVE IN AND SIMPLY FOUGHT THEM OFF OR RAN...THEY WOULDN’T HAVE THAT CHANCE ANYMORE. IF I KILLED THEM, I WOULDN’T BE THE ME I CHOSE, I’D BE SOME OTHER PAPYRUS I DON’T WANT TO BE, SOME LESS GREAT AND NOT AS WONDERFUL PAPYRUS. STILL AMAZING, BUT LESS SO BECAUSE HE WOULDN’T BE ME. SO I WOULD WANT TO KEEP TRYING, EVEN TO THE VERY LAST MOMENT, TO MY DEATH. I COULD BE THE ONLY ONE WHO OFFERS THEM THAT CHOICE TO CHANGE. I DON’T REMEMBER MORE THAN DARK DREAMS AND BITS AND PIECES OF MEMORIES, NOT LIKE SANS REMEMBERS THOSE TIMES, BUT I BELIEVE THAT THOSE MES WOULD WANT TO BE THE GREATEST PAPYRUS AS WELL.” One of his greatest monologues yet. Even if it was a bit of an uncomfortable subject to go on about. For his part, Flowey looked as if he’d swallowed something very unpleasant. “It’s just a choice? That’s all? You don’t even do it because it makes you feel good? Because you feel important?” It was a good point. There had always been the impulse to push himself forward, into the center of attention. To be loved and adored by everyone and recognized for being such a great person. But still... “I...” he said slowly, thinking it through as he spoke. “I DON’T THINK IT’S WRONG TO ENJOY DOING GOOD THINGS, OR TO FEEL IMPORTANT IF YOU DID SOMETHING GREAT. SOMETIMES YOU CAN EVEN DO GOOD THINGS FOR OTHERS BECAUSE IT’S LIKE DOING SOMETHING GOOD FOR YOU TOO AT THE SAME TIME. YOU’RE CHOOSING TO PRACTICE DOING THE RIGHT THING, AND THE THINGS YOU DO STILL HELP PEOPLE. AND IF YOU CAN LEARN TO DO GOOD THINGS FOR LOTS OF DIFFERENT REASONS BECAUSE YOU PRACTICED SO HARD AT IT, THAT’S GREAT TOO! SOME OF THEM MIGHT BE ABOUT FEELING GOOD, AND OTHER TIMES IT MIGHT BE BECAUSE ITS JUST THE RIGHT THING TO DO. ONE DAY, IF YOU PRACTICE ENOUGH, YOU CAN BE STRONG ENOUGH TO TRY AND DO GOOD EVEN WHEN YOU GET HURT BECAUSE OF IT. BUT IT’S OKAY IF YOU DON’T.” He smiled, his eyelights twinkling in their sockets. “EVEN SMALL GOOD THINGS ARE STILL GOOD. GREATNESS ISN’T ABOUT THE SIZE OF IT, YOU CAN BE GREAT BECAUSE OF YOUR CHOICES, EVEN WHEN NOBODY NOTICES A THING.” Flowey said nothing at all. His expression had returned to something more neutral, but it was clear that something had provoked a reaction, a response. Knowing it was getting late, Papyrus resumed his walking, and Flowey burrowed into the earth, popping out here and there ahead of him, but never quite looking at him, or speaking. It was only when they’d reached the first hints of snow that he spoke up, his voice very quiet. “And what about after? What does the person do after? Even if they change, how are people supposed to forgive the things they did? Or trust them ever again? Why should they? Maybe the person has changed, but it doesn’t fix the stuff they did. Right?” Today was a day for hard questions, wasn’t it? “I DON’T KNOW FOR SURE. I COULD FORGIVE SOMEONE IF I KNEW THEY WERE TRULY CHANGING. BUT OTHERS MIGHT NOT BE ABLE TO, OR DON’T WANT TO. I DON’T THINK THAT’S WRONG OF THEM, BECAUSE THEY WERE HURT. SOME MIGHT FORGIVE, BUT NOT TRUST, BECAUSE THEY CAN’T ACCEPT THE RISK OF GETTING HURT AGAIN. I THINK THAT’S OKAY TOO.” He stared off at the distant cavernous ceiling above the peaks and valleys of Snowdin Forest, and the trails of smoke that drifted lazily from the chimneys of the town. “I DON’T THINK PEOPLE HAVE TO FORGIVE, OR EVEN TRUST. IT MIGHT BE NICE IF THEY DID, BUT IT’S HARD TO BE THE BEST YOU IF YOU KEEP EXPECTING THEM TO BE JUST LIKE YOU. THEY MIGHT BE STRONG IN A DIFFERENT WAY, LIKE BEING DETERMINED NO MATTER WHAT, OR SUPLEXING BOULDERS, OR-” “Alright! Alright! I get it!” Flowey butt in hastily, cutting him off just as he was beginning his list. Without another word the flower dove into the earth and did not resurface again. Papyrus shrugged. Hopefully the little flower had gotten what he wanted, and it had been nice to talk about these sorts of things to someone other than Sans for once. He waved cheerily to the River Person as the boat sailed by on the river. “Tra la la,” remarked the hooded figure happily, returning his wave. “The Angel is coming.” And then he was gone. “WOWEE,” said Papyrus to himself. “TODAY HAS BEEN A VERY ODD DAY.”

[hockeylvr59]

Love Hurts || Paul Bissonnette

Requested: [x] yes [ ] no

Request: “Yassss do #5 with biz” for soulmate!au prompt:

You feel the pain your soulmate feels (if they get punched in the face you feel it)

Authors Note: Yeah I may have dreamt about this one previously (and asked for someone to request it) so it was a pleasure to write. I don’t love the ending but *shrug*.

Warnings: cursing, mental breakdown, angst. 

Word Count: 1,336

~~~

Your entire life you’d been torn with whether you ever wanted to meet your soulmate. It wasn’t that you weren’t curious, that you didn’t want the type of love that soulmates were supposed to share...no...it was more complicated than that. You see, soulmates were cursed with having to share each other's pain. If your soulmate got hurt you were well aware. For most people it wasn’t a big deal, bumps and bruises didn’t really translate over distance after all and serious injuries to one’s soulmate were generally rare. 

You on the other hand, from the time you were little you’d quickly found out that your soulmate was a fighter. You’d always suspected boxing or martial arts, figuring that was the only thing that could cause the level of pain you’d experienced. So while you wanted to meet your soulmate, you also hated him for the number of times he’d sent you to bed in excruciating pain. There was only one thing to be thankful for and that was that your soulmates bruises or scars never transferred, it was solely the pain. 

It was during your teenage years that things got really bad, the feeling of being knocked out coming through once a week on average leaving you with no choice but to pop painkillers and crawl into bed early to try and sleep it off. 

You were 20 when you felt pain worse than you could ever imagine. It had been a nice May night when a sharp slicing pain cut through your wrist nearly making you collapse from its intensity. You felt like your hand was on fire and the pain radiated up your entire arm bringing tears to your eyes. When the pain had lasted for almost a week without subsiding you were both concerned but wanted to kill your soulmate for putting you through this. 

As the years progressed, nights of intense pain persisted. During one episode it was the muscles of your stomach, in a few others it was each of your knees in turn. All the while punches to the face were a frequent sensation. 

And then suddenly it had stopped. Well not completely, but now at 28 years old, the pains you’d felt were mild in comparison, pains stemming from just the wear and tear of getting older. In a way you were grateful, but at the same time, you didn’t understand it all. You’d figured your soulmate had retired but as much as you hated the pain while it occurred, now the vast absence of it left you feeling confused and empty. 

At this point, you never thought you’d meet your soulmate. 

____

You had become fast friends with Danielle Pyatt when you’d moved to Arizona and stumbled into the restaurant her and her husband owned. They were clearly soulmates and watching the two of them together made you jealous but also so happy to know that people did find their soulmates even if you felt like you never would. 

You were over at their house for a small get together, playing with their daughters while Danielle cooked dinner and Taylor entertained his friends with a beer out back. It wasn’t until the food was ready that you’d met Paul, and though his presence put you at ease in a way that most people couldn’t, there weren’t any other signs that anything was out of the ordinary. 

After dinner, the guys headed to the basement to play some pool and once you’d helped Danielle put both girls to bed the two of you joined them. 

As you’d entered the room you could hear Taylor chirping one of his other friends about his soulmate before turning the attention to Paul who’d just made a skeptical face about the whole thing. 

“I don’t have a soulmate so I can’t agree…” He’d thrown out casually as if the thought didn’t even bother him. Taking the drink Danielle had poured for you, you curled up on the couch just observing from afar as the boys jostled over the pool table. 

“What do you mean you don’t have a soulmate?” The words had been thrown back at Paul by all of the gentlemen at the table. “Everyone has a soulmate.” Though you didn’t pinpoint it at that moment, looking back that was when the uneasy feeling had settled inside you. Paul, on the other hand, didn’t seem fazed at all just continuing to play the game.

“Guess everyone but me then. I’m telling you boys...she doesn’t exist. The whole pain thing is bullshit because I’ve never felt anything.” 

It wasn’t until a few minutes later when Taylor punched Paul in the arm over something that all of the pieces started to fly together in your mind. With a dull ache settling through your matching arm almost immediately after watching the punch across the room, you quickly burst into tears as years of wondering and memories flooded through you. 

Pushing yourself onto shaky feet you tried to slip from the room unnoticed, your actions failing as Danielle and all of the guys in the room noticed the start of you falling apart. 

It wasn’t until it was all staring you right in the face that it suddenly made sense. Your soulmate wasn’t a boxer or a martial artist, he was a hockey player. And the fact that Paul was an enforcer certainly made tons of sense with the number of times you’d felt like you’d been knocked out. As you stumbled into the wall in the stairwell, tears still streaming rapidly down your face you mused over what you knew of Paul’s career, connecting his injuries to your own pain. 

It was now all clear as day…

Except he didn’t think you existed. He’d said so himself. You’d never thought about it but you’d been a fairly injury free person and so, of course, he hadn’t felt anything on his end of the connection. And while that made sense logically, right now you weren’t thinking logically and with your emotions in control, all you felt was hurt. 

Deciding you needed to leave you tried to pull yourself together enough to at least say goodbye and thank Danielle and Taylor for dinner because as much as you hurt right now you didn’t have it in you to be rude to your friends. A fake smile plastered on your face after wiping the tears away you headed back downstairs only to find everyone just standing there staring at you. 

Before you could even get out the words that you were going to head home, Danielle was stepping closer to you, an apology spilling from her lips on what she was about to do. 

The slap across your left cheek came so suddenly that you didn’t have time to react and in the aftermath of it, all you felt was numb, unable to move. If you had lifted your eyes from the ground you would have seen Paul rubbing at his cheek and stretching his jaw, his eyes as wide as saucers. If you had looked up you would have seen him nervously crossing the space between you, a range of emotions flashing through his eyes. 

But you didn’t look up, instead, all heard was a muttered “fuck…” before suddenly a pair of arms were pulling you against a solid chest and a pair of lips were dipping down to your ear. 

“I am so sorry.” With your brain too muddled to understand just what he was apologizing for you tried to pull away. Your brain was telling you you needed out. That this was all too much to handle. But already your soulmate bond was growing and so your feet wouldn’t move, leaving you with no choice but to collapse into his chest, sobs once again taking over your body. 

Turns out you were the classic case of just how painful a soulmate bond could be. It was messy, it was painful, it was complicated, but yet once found, it was unable to be broken. 

[adjaecent]

- dreamers often lie (t) pt. 1/6

the 1996 Romeo + Juliet AU that wouldn’t leave my mind after this photoshoot and this interview

pairing: romeo!jaehyun x ofc!juliet 

genre/warnings: romance, tragedy, violence, tries to be a little geographically accurate and fails at it, no smut (sorry lol)

summary:  His fingers traced her cheek lightly, eyes dancing as if to say, “Well, now you have my attention, what are you going to do with it?”

The ringing of her alarm sounded hours after Juliet had already awoken. Her eyes stared blankly at the lacy canopy of her bed, her mind still trapped in the memory of her dreams. If she could stay trapped in those memories, if she could just drown in them all and never wake up again, she would be more content than she felt now. She could even be happy.

She heard the sound of their housekeeper and the woman who had practically raised her making her way down the hall. Chung-sook reached Juliet’s door and shouted loud and true that her young charge was slacking her day away and would be late for school if she didn’t hurry up. Then she cackled loudly, the only sound that could be heard in the entire house. Juliet raised her voice, if not her head, so she could be heard, “I’m awake, I promise! I’m sorry, I must be so distracted I forgot to turn off the alarm.”

Her voice trailed off as Chung-sook laughed again, “Oh, I know your tricks, Miss! You had best wake up right now, I have breakfast ready and I will be very sore if you leave in a rush without eating any of it!”

The housekeeper walked away, thoughtlessly humming under her breath and Juliet finally reached over to silence her alarm. Her dreams had already begun slipping away, slowly like water between her fingers. Yet, just like water, the feel of them remained even afterwards, her hands soaked in their metaphorical thoughts.

She had dreamt of him again.

.

.

.

Her mind drifted as she buttoned up her uniform shirt, her fingers deftly moving up the garment. He had been bent over a book, his graceful fingers moving over a passage as his mouth moved to read the words. She had been sitting nearby, but he hadn’t noticed her. Even her dreams kept that consistency to her normal life. But unlike her real self, she had reached over in her dreams and she had plucked the book from his fingers so that when he looked up in surprise he would have to look straight at her.

His brown eyes were wide in their shock, the warm sunlight illuminating every speck of color. His face was puzzled before it had smoothed over to an amused and expectant look. Her heart was beating so fast she could feel the book start to slip from her twitching fingers and before she could set a goal, before she could act, he moved.

His fingers traced her cheek lightly, eyes dancing as if to say, “Well, now you have my attention, what are you going to do with it?”

She had woken up as his thumb touched her bottom lip, the words stagnant in her mouth.

“Everything, anything, please.”

.

.

.

Juliet sat at the modern dining table, leaving space between her and her mother. Her father would typically sit between them most mornings, but he was currently in the midst of a PR disaster. Some of his shadier filings involving shops he owned in Itaewon had come to the media’s attention and they talked of illegal contracts and bribery. Nothing that wasn’t true, of course, but everything that should never be said out loud.

She knew only one family that would dare to sell information like this to the press. The feud between their families was ancient, something that went as far back as their time as merchant traders in the kingdom of Silla. Both families tried to ingratiate themselves to different sovereigns at different times, to appeal to different traders and foreigners, and to own the coveted trading routes at the Han river. Their last names were a symbol of their trading prowess at this time, political marriages made at different junctures to benefit their status–the strange Chos and Jeongs of Seoul.

Her own family had kept a tradition of naming their daughters using foreign names from the past. Juliet was used to the double take people made when they read her name and then actually saw her, their disappointment always keenly felt. She never lived up to the excitement or the poetry of the name she was given, even if she was expected to live up to the honor of the last name she never sought.

She stood after dutifully finishing her breakfast, making sure she left nothing on her plate so that Chung-sook would not worry. Her mother leans her cheek towards her for a perfunctory kiss, her fingers scrolling quickly on her phone, and Juliet left after her quiet goodbye was left unanswered.

Her family’s driver moved to open the door for her, his smile wide even as he stood in the slightly chilly morning air.

“Good morning, little princess. Ready for school?”

Juliet smiled at Mr. Park and shook her head, both an answer and an admonishment. The nickname was one spouted by her family and by her enemies alike and in her mind it was just another name she couldn’t hope to live up to.

They drove to her cousin’s home as was their normal routine to school. Rosaline walked demurely to the car, disregarding Mr. Park as he opened the door for her. She was older by two years and beautiful, her mind as sharp as steel and the focus of it honed over years. Rosaline was preparing to sit for her university exams this fall and she had already planned her future law career out to the next ten years. Nowhere in these plans was there room for either marriage or love and neither of them ever talked about how Rosaline was free to make this decision as the daughter of the youngest Cho son.

Juliet held no wishes like that for herself, she knew exactly what marriage meant for her and for the future of her family.

.

.

.

The first time she had ever seen him was with Rosaline next to her. Her thirteenth birthday had just happened and Rosaline had taken her out to celebrate the gain of a little more of her freedom. They had been walking in Itaewon which was a neutral zone for both of their families. It held none of the expectations of tradition and of order that the Cho areas north of the Han river did for her and none of the animosity the Jeong areas south of the Han river did either. Here, hidden behind the tourists and the foreigners, she could almost escape all of it.

She had been dragging Rosaline towards a taiyaki stand, the fried dough one of her favorite treats when she was outside the house, when she heard his laugh for the first time. She had turned her head to see a boy making loud and angry sounds in the middle of the street, almost as if he was fighting a shadow. His movements were exaggerated and Juliet couldn’t help but laugh at one of his dramatic stumbles. She was amused watching the show until she heard the laugh again and this time her eyes wandered to another boy standing at the center of the crowd, his body leaning against the front of a shop as he stared at the funny display that was most certainly for him.

Juliet stared transfixed as his happiness spread on his face, the smile pulling at his face to end at the rivets of two symmetrical dimples. Every thought and every feeling was laid bare in his smile and she couldn’t imagine what that would have been like, to express so freely that your own face had certain tells for others to see. For happiness to be something so easy to find in your smile.

His eyes moved to them, most likely sensing her stare, but they quickly flitted past her to her cousin. She could see the recognition in his stare and the sudden excitement at seeing Rosaline, but her cousin only huffed before moving past her. She kept her hand on Juliet’s arm so she wouldn’t be lost in the crowd as she shoved through it. Juliet turned to glance at him one more time, to see his face fall as Rosaline ignored him. His eyes moved downwards and she caught his attention this time, his face curiously blank when he looked at her before Rosaline succeeded in getting through the crowd and the contact was finally broken.

Juliet felt that she might be able to breathe again now that the strange spell was broken, but she found that even the taiyaki her cousin had gotten them tasted like nothing in her mouth. Rosaline glanced at her before sighing, “Don’t you dare tell anyone about this.”

She looked up shocked at her suddenly whiny tone. Rosaline was always regal in the way she spoke, especially to her younger cousins.

“That was Jaehyun, a Jeong, and not just any one of them, but the one to inherit it all. He has this asinine idea in his head that he’s in love with me because I rejected him yesterday and that our family histories don't actually matter,” she scoffed, “The history between our families is one of the only things that matters as far as I’m concerned. He’s insufferable. God, if he would only use his brain for once.”

Juliet remembered the sheer breadth of emotions that she saw on his face before Rosaline pulled them away. She couldn’t imagine being so brave as to go against her family’s wishes. She couldn’t imagine being so brave as to put emotion and passion before logic or reasoning.

She couldn’t help but to admire him, even then.

.

.

.

The gossip reached them even before they reached their school. Juliet was distracted with a kitty collecting game she’d downloaded to her phone, she found a lot of joy in feeding each cat that found its way to her little yard and would play it for hours embarrassingly enough. She heard Rosaline gasp at her social feed and suddenly had a new phone shoved into her face. As her eyes adjusted, she saw that there were multiple posts, some with video even, of a fight that broke out earlier this morning.

As she glanced at the images she could make out their other cousin, Johnny, clear as day. He must have gone after the Jeongs in retaliation for what they leaked about her father’s business dealings, but since they were all still so young, their fights had to be relegated between their fists instead of in boardrooms. For someone as logical and cool headed as their cousin, his actions frequently turned angry when it came to their family feud. Juliet scoffed and looked away from the last image, the Chief of Police himself showing up to end the brawl in the streets.

“I can’t believe he would be so stupid,” she muttered, “It’s his last year and this isn’t what he should be focusing on. This isn’t anything important at all! Why should this feud matter more than his future?”

There was silence before Rosaline spoke, “He’s fighting because of what those scum released to the media about your father, Juliet. I’m sure your father would appreciate the support.”

Juliet could see her face flinch in the window's reflection. Her father got himself into this mess with his less than ideal business practices, why would she have to defend his honor over this? If she had ever done something as embarrassing to the family, she knows they would have had no problems disowning her, only child or not. She glanced at Mr. Park and saw his eyes quickly glance away. His professionalism kept him silent, but she wanted to know just what he thought about her austere family and their terrible places in this city.

There would be no charges filed of course as neither family would want to invite them and the police themselves would ignore it so long as the bribes kept coming from the obscenely rich. Their feud had personally paid for most of the police equipment and cars, she was sure.

As they arrived in front of their school gates, Rosaline squeezed her arm before walking out of the car. Juliet knew what the gesture meant, they were now in front of the public and they would be scrutinized for everything that had occurred over the last week. To show weakness now would be detrimental to her family’s image.

They caught sight of Johnny waiting for them at the school’s entrance and Juliet couldn’t help the glare she shot him, even as she turned her face away so no one standing nearby would see. He dramatically rolled his eyes at her face, bringing his coffee up to his mouth as he ignored her. He never saw any problems with his behavior or his violence and the rest of the family would go along with it because he was the shining light of their family’s future as far as they were concerned. Even Rosaline only smiled at him and asked him just how much detention he was given for this new stunt and that she was sure to beat his score in the university exams now.

“Everyone in the fight has a month of detention for this, which is more fair than I thought it would be considering the Chief’s nephew was in the fight this time and on the Jeong’s side. I have no problems with Minjun, but his decision to be their friend is already a slight to our family that I can’t just ignore.”

At this, Juliet scoffed again and he moved to glare at her this time.

“Have you considered how this will affect your cram school? Will you be the one to let our tutor know or did it even cross your mind?”

She saw his face relax a little at this before he continued, “Well, obviously my dearest cousins will bring me the worksheets I missed and I’ll just have to work harder on the weekends to not fall behind in time for the exam. It’s all those Jeong’s fault, anyway.”

There was so much she could say then, how if he had also minded himself then the adults could have dealt with their business dealings by themselves and the children could be free to stay out of it, how it was not the younger Jeong’s faults that the head of their family decided to do this right when both families were fighting over a new development contract and just how dumb he was to phrase his request for his worksheets like that. They both knew Rosaline was never going to bring him his work.

Since she was in a lower grade than both her cousins, she started to walk past them to the school. She gave them a warning to not be late to class before heading to her designated locker to trade her books for her morning’s classes. There were already whispers around her, her name loud and clear in most of her classmates mouths. As much as she wanted to slam her locker and turn around to shout at them, she held herself back and gently closed her locker.

Her classroom sat at the back of the school, with wide windows that faced out into their private courtyard. It was an affluent school, known for getting its students into high ranking universities, and most of the students knew each other’s families because of their business or political relations. It was also one of the other few neutral zones for the Cho and Jeong families as neither would sacrifice the best education even for their feud.

Her assigned seat was right next to the window and she had selfishly coveted the desk since she received it. She could stare out directly at the large tree in the middle of the courtyard where most students mingled before classes and she could feel the sun stream in from the southern-facing windows. She reached her hand out to touch the window pane, the warmth of the glass warming her palm. There was a movement to her right and when Juliet looked, she had a chance to make eye contact with the same pair of eyes that had haunted her dreams this morning. With a curse, she quickly looked away, angling her body awkwardly in her desk so that she could be hidden from view.

Her heart was racing and she was reminded of how brave she was in her dream, how she not only wanted but commanded his attention there. With several deep breaths, she moved to look out the window again but he was gone and the courtyard was starting to empty. Her classmates started to filter into the classroom and Juliet shook her head in disappointment. She would do better next time.

.

.

.

Their tutor was not pleased with the information she relayed, his strict admonishments falling on the ears of the one person not involved in any of this in the slightest. By the time she had finally gotten all of her cousins' worksheets the sun was starting to hang low in the sky and she knew she would be late getting home at this rate. Her father was throwing a fundraiser gala tonight, some good press to negate the bad he kept accumulating and she was expected to be there and on her best behavior. Her mother had already coordinated an extensively detailed look for her and it would take hours to get ready in a way that would satisfy them both.

Curse her stupid cousin!

When she reached the room where their detention was being held, she could hear the angry voices from outside the door. It did absolutely nothing to calm her anger.

Juliet shoved the door open, the shock at the interruption silencing the group of students inside and she spared a glance to see how they had divided themselves into different areas of the room. Each group was cleaning old instruments and sports gear, their physical tasks obviously meant to keep them occupied though it wasn’t doing them any good.

She could feel eyes staring at her from her left, the group of Jeong boys and supporters most likely shocked at both her appearance as well as her loud entry. She carefully avoided one specific set of eyes that wasn’t supposed to be there, but it seemed like he chose to stick by his troublesome cousins the same way she did. He must have been keeping them company during their detention and if Juliet had known she would have made sure to check her appearance at least once before coming in. And she also might have made a much quieter entrance.

Once her eyes set on her cousin, sitting next to a pile of basketballs he was wiping down, her previous anger overtook her nerves. She walked towards him with the worksheets in her fist and practically shoved the folder at him.

“Do you have any idea the absolute earful I just got from our tutor? I’m not even the idiot who got in trouble! You owe me so much for this, Johnny!”

She could hear snickering from behind her, but she pointedly ignored their audience, choosing instead to stare at how her cousin rolled his eyes.

“Oh, I’m so sorry that you’re going to be late to your party, princess. We both know you don’t even like these galas.”

She crossed her arms in order not to shove at him, especially in front of their audience, “You know just how important this is to my dad right now,” she lowered her voice and finally he showed some remorse and Juliet wished the Uncle card wasn’t the only way to get through to him these days, “and you know I'll keep bringing you these worksheets because it’s important to me that you do well. This, your education, is important. Not what’s happening here…” She moved her arm to show the detention room, the pointed divide between each group. The audience behind them was quiet to this.

“But you have to tell our damn tutor that all of this was your fault anyway! I want them to leave me alone or so help me, I won’t be responsible for my actions after this.” She felt the urge to stamp her foot, but held herself back. She was already coming off petulant in her anger right now so it was best not to add annoying brat to everything else.

This caused Johnny to smile and he shoved at her to leave, “Alright, okay, make sure to tell your mom I’ll be right there after this. Go and get beautiful, we both know it’ll take a while.”

She turned to glare at him again, oh that jerk, but was interrupted by a voice from behind her.

“What is this, the Cho’s are hosting a big party tonight? And they forgot to invite me!” Minjun put his hand to his heart, acting every bit as dramatic as the time she had first seen him fighting his shadow in the streets of Itaewon all for Jaehyun’s amusement. She ignored the same boy hovering at the edges of her periphery, just like that first time as well.

“I’m sure the Chief was invited, Minjun. You’re free to come if you’d like,” her diplomatic answer betrayed her racing heart. If she could only just extend the invite to the others, if she could only have an excuse to see him outside of the confines of these walls for one night.

“But your friends are not invited.”

Juliet closed her eyes momentarily at the harsh response behind her. She moved to open her mouth before another voice spoke up. This time she had an excuse to finally (finally) move her eyes to him, giving herself the chance to drink in the picture he made without any worry that someone would catch her staring too long.

“You wound us, Johnny. I thought this detention was finally bringing us closer. You know I have no reason to hate you or your family,” Jaehyun smiled as he spoke, his deep voice calming the room.

He sat on top of one of the desks on their side of the room, the circle of people of him obviously arranged in a way that he was at its center even as Minjun held the most attention. He was still in his school uniform, but his white shirt collar was unbuttoned and his hair had been mussed up by his own hands. It was one of his nervous tells as whenever he felt the loss of control in a situation or in his emotions, his hands would move to touch his hair. His physical perfection was something he put so much thought to that to check on it was something almost ingrained in him. She wondered what about this situation made him nervous. Her own hands twitched at her side before she quickly closed them into fists. She saw his eyes flick to them and realized she must have shown a much more antagonistic picture than she meant to. She quickly relaxed her hands again, stretching out the tension and she watched as he stared at that, too.

“You know our families could never be like that,” was Johnny’s simple response behind her and it was only because she knew him so well that she could recognize the small regret in his tone. There was a time when this feud didn’t mean so much to him either, but as they’d grown older and he’d grown more attached to the family business and the family name, it had come to be the same bitter story as before. Now this feud mattered too much to him. With a sigh she turned away, she had already wasted too much time here and her mother was going to be even angrier at her accidental slight.

As she walked to the door, the boys behind her turned back to their tasks, most likely realizing they’d have to work much faster in order to leave their detention on time. She still felt one pair of eyes on her as she left, their owner left with nothing else to do but watch her leave.

[ichor-and-symbiosis]

(1/3) Hear me out (Tenko and Hero!GF) imagine this, Kotaro force Tenko to breakup with you by telling him he’ll ruin your reputation. Because your reputation shouldn’t be tinted because of his father, Tenko did. You’re is left heart broken and sobbing without a proper reason. Tenko fell into depression, which mean Kotaro can manipulate Tenko into doing what he wants: marry a girl from a well off family/non-hero. Tenko did. He doesn’t love that girl. But he did to keep his father happy. - 🌹

i am an absolute RAT for neglecting these beautiful asks for so long, especially considering this is my favorite au!! i’m sorry anon, i had this written a while ago and had no energy to finish it until now ;-; 

- there were many clever tactics kotarou thought of to break this relationship apart. he could have told tenko that his villainous quirk will only cast judgement upon you simply by association, or perhaps you had some secret that you did not want the world to know. either way, kotarou stops at nothing to convince tenko to break up with you, because in his mind, he believes he is doing this with tenko’s best interests at heart. this, to him, is not pettiness. this is a father trying to protect his son. - no signs indicated that your relationship would ever come to an end. if anything, you were both certain that you would marry each other soon, because you were madly in love. so when tenko breaks it off with you, you are left blind sighted and completely devastated. you hadn’t even imagined a life without him since you first started dating. and likewise, this was the hardest thing tenko has ever had to do. seeing you cry made him sick with guilt, but he only wanted to protect you from his father. this was a necessary evil. no matter how much you begged him to reconsider, tenko was convinced that you would be happier without him in your life, if only so that kotarou would not bother you. - you both fall into a deep depression after the breakup. tenko was always a bit withdrawn, but he had warmed up considerably when you entered his life. now, he was worse than ever, neglecting his health and personal life and not giving a damn about it. kotarou expected this, so he let his son grieve for some time. but when he notices that tenko isn’t getting any better, he takes matters into his own hands to help him forget about you. resigned to a life without you, tenko agrees to meet the girl kotarou wanted to set him up with. he may as well — they would all be subpar compared to you, so he may as well get it over with.

-  the young woman was born into a wealthy family and reaped the benefits of her heritage tenfold. she is vivacious and larger than life, older than tomura and upholds some of kotarou’s ignorant ideas, and is the perfect trust fund kid who has grandiose visions for useless ideas and far too much money to funnel into her projects. but it keeps her busy, and she is fairly nice to his family, so tenko goes with it. the hardest moments are when he starts to actually enjoy her presence, because his mind would immediately think about you. but those moments come as quick as they go. this woman always found some way to grate his nerves at least a little. -  while tenko struggles to regain a sense of normalcy in his life, you were at a crossroads. as if the breakup hadn’t been bad enough, you discover that you are pregnant. what the hell could you possibly do? should you confront tenko and fight to get him back? kotarou would only think of you as a gold digger trying to use your pregnancy to worm your way into his family. initially, you settle on simply telling tenko about it. no strings attached. you knew him, you knew that he wanted to start a family of his own. besides, this child was the fruit of your love, so how could he not love this child? - you feel invigorated. slowly but surely, tenko would come back into your life. except you stumble upon him with that woman, and all of your hopes and dreams come crashing down. you don’t know what hurts more: the fact that he moved on far quicker than you had, or that you were gullible enough to think he would still pine for you. - you carry through with the pregnancy all on your own. kotarou’s biased logic filtered through your head whenever you headed to work, reminding you that your career put you in danger and increased your chances of not living long enough to see your child grow. children, you had to remind yourself. you were carrying twins. - you decide to retire from the front lines to use your skill set in a safer setting. a simple office job. it was ideal for you and your new little family. the twins already lacked a father; you couldn’t bear the thought of them losing their mother, too. - the moment you see your newborn children for the first time, you break down into tears. they have dark hair just like him. and when their eye color sets in, it is that same crimson shade you loved so much. - it is difficult. motherhood is new territory for you, especially with two babies and a full-time job to juggle. but you make it work, because every time you come home to those sweet little faces, you feel so indescribably happy, even when a part of you still suffered from the loss of your lover. - four years later, tenko is in a hell of a rut. his life is mundane and he is constantly reminded of the fact that he married someone entirely incompatible with him. it had been easy to tolerate in the beginning, but once the honeymoon period wore off, the fighting began. his wife keeps pestering him to finally give her a child, and he dreads the inevitable. worst of all, he had managed to hear by word of mouth that you were no longer a hero, for whatever reason. you were no longer the thing that his father hated, and yet here tenko was, stuck in a loveless marriage when he could have been with you all these years. the thought makes him unspeakably angry at times, and unfortunately he lets it out on his wife. it is not a healthy relationship. - you, however, have moved on for the most part. there simply hasn’t been time to prolong your sadness when you had two hungry mouths to feed. tenko may not be in your life anymore, but you had your beautiful children and that was good enough for you. - you cross paths one day, completely by chance. who could ever think that a boring shopping trip would lead to tenko seeing you for the first time in years. and you looked just as beautiful as you always had. his heart clenched tightly in his chest and he felt his knees go weak at the sight of you. you hadn’t noticed him yet, and he took the opportunity to watch you for a little while longer. he didn’t know if he should go talk to you or not, and while his indecisiveness rooted him to the spot, his attention suddenly shifted to a little boy that tugged at your arm asking for sweets. tenko furrowed his brows in confusion, anxiety welling up within him as his suspicions were about to be confirmed. and then he sees the little girl holding your hand.- and he sees the dark hair. the red eyes. - he nearly throws up from the onslaught of emotions that overtake him. it couldn’t be. it just couldn’t be. - the little girl notices tenko staring at you and shyly whispers to you about the strange man hiding behind a stack of canned food. you lock eyes as the little boy demands tenko to stop being a creep, and you are both rendered silent, too shocked to do anything other than simply look at each other. old feelings resurface in an instant. you both feel a magnetic pull, and tenko nearly succumbs to it. you are the first to regain your senses, because you have children to take care of, and you could not afford to rouse their suspicion. with a brisk nod to tenko you usher the twins forward as you walk away. tenko is left standing there, numb and overcome with feelings.- he wants to go straight to his father’s house and kill him. his hands are practically itching from restraint, and he goes back to his old habit of scratching at his neck, even though you helped him get over this coping mechanism a while ago. tenko goes on a long walk instead, so long that his wife has been bombarding his phone well into the night, but he doesn’t care. he needs to think. he needs to understand what he saw. - one way or another, you both find each other again at the grocery store. tenko had been waiting for you for days in that store in hopes of seeing you, and you knew him well enough to know that he would do something dramatic like this. so you appear one day without the children, distant and polite as you finally muster up the mental fortitude to speak with him. - this conversation warranted a more serious setting, but tenko didn’t want to risk his wife seeing you, and you did not want him in your house. so you go to a large park and find a secluded area to talk. and talk you did, for a very long time. tenko is practically choking with guilt and resentment towards everyone in his life for putting you both in this ridiculous circumstance. if only things had been a little different, if only you two had a little more time together, then none of this would have happened. all of these years, wasted. worst of all, his suspicions were confirmed - those two children were his, and he missed out on so many important milestones. - he wants you back immediately. he wants you so, so fucking much, he’s never stopped loving you. and he tells you this, as selfish as it is. he hates himself for hurting you like this, because you had already moved on, but you are the mother of his children, damn it. you were his real family, not the woman he grew to resent. - you are too afraid to start a relationship just yet, but you do agree to introduce him to the children. tenko pulls you in for a bone crushing hug when you say that. he nearly kisses you, with how close your beautiful face is to his, but he restrains himself. there will be time for that later. he’s going to win you back, and he will never let you go. - for once, his life was starting to get better. tenko finally feels like he has a purpose, a direction in life. but he needs to settle a score. this time, he goes to his father’s house. and as soon as he sees him, he punches the bastard right in his face. the argument that ensues is perhaps the most severe they’ve ever had, even worse than when kotarou had to convince tenko to leave you. - when he tells kotarou about the children, he feels a sick satisfaction when kotarou falls silent, and his family is left in various stages of shock. he forbids them from talking to him, or trying to contact you. he wants nothing to do with his family, even his mother and sister. they may not have had any part in kotarou’s schemes, but they were always ultimately on his side, and he hates them now more than ever. hana of course does not allow this negativity to brew between them. she is team tenko for life from now on and is resolved to help him. his mother is devastated by how everything had fallen apart, how she had grandchildren she never knew about. she cries over this for days and doesn’t speak to kotarou. - when the initial shock of everything settles down, tenko is there for his children every step of the way. he fights hard to win their trust and friendship, which is relatively easy, because he already loves them so much and they can sense his joy when they want to be with him. - and how could your relationship with tenko not prosper? despite everything, you can’t resist falling back into deep friendship. but you can’t bring yourself to enter a physical relationship with him, no matter how horribly tempting it is, because tenko is still married and you can’t condone cheating. you don’t want to be the side chick, no matter how in love you two were. - tenko calls up his lawyer that night, gets those divorce papers, and hands them to his wife as soon as he sees her. and we all know he’s in for a hell of a fight. every excuse he offers is swiftly shut down. he’s fallen out of love with her? tough shit, that’s marriage. he’s cheating on her? now she’s not divorcing him out of spite. it’s only when he confesses that he has children that she becomes genuinely heartbroken. she’s always wanted children, and tenko always made excuses. now that she knows about you, about the history you two shared, she is so overcome with jealousy that she doubles down on her refusal to divorce him. - no problem. enter kotarou, properly whipped to hell and back by his family and eager to get on their good side again. he’s too damn old and tired to keep up the drama, especially now that you aren’t a hero. there just isn’t any point to all of this. his powerful business connections allow him to put pressure on the wife’s family to convince her to take a settlement and sign the papers. to tenko’s endless relief, she relents in the end. - with nothing standing in the way of your happiness, tenko moves in with you and you become a proper family. you get married as soon as you feel confident in his love for you again, and you conceive on your wedding night. tenko loves his children very much, but he is also ecstatic about the chance to be there for your third child, to feel like a proper father and support you like he’s always wanted to. - you better believe ya’ll live happily ever after.

[agnesacacia]

Hansy Holidays

Pansy Parkinson hated these things. These insufferable fundraiser galas her mother insisted on throwing every few months, where they would honor some wizarding organization or another and all prominent members of wizarding society were invited to donate toward the cause. Because Pansy's mother, like all good pure blood witches, was a philanthropist. Honest to Merlin, that's what the woman called herself, like it was her career. A position that had been drilled into Pansy so hard that even at Hogwarts when she'd had to discuss her future career plans, she'd insisted on 'philanthropist' like it was a job title. She'd never forget the way Professor Snape had rolled his eyes at her and dismissed her as a silly, idiot girl with no real ambition. Which, to be fair, back then that's exactly what she was.

Sure she did well in school. Well enough to be at the top of her house. Not as smart as Hermione Granger (the twat) but she did alright. But a career just wasn't what someone like her did. She was a Parkinson and Parkinsons lived off of their investments and old family money. They contributed to the wizarding world through fancy parties and donations to politicians. And they married other pure blood members and continued to make pure blood children who would carry on that legacy.

But now.

Now Pansy was twenty two, still living with her parents, and woefully and completely single without any sort of career option to speak of. Her days were spent planning these horrible gala events with her mother and becoming increasingly aware that she would rather be doing anything else in the world.

Especially when these galas involved them. The Golden Trio. Harry bloody Potter and his two little minions were always at the top of the guest list and any event that was hosted had to have at least one of the three to be considered a success.

So here she was, glowering across the room as she watched Hermione Granger, looking absolutely fab in a chic new designer robe, her bushy hair tamed into an elegant bun. Weasley stood at her side, looking just as fab in a dark purple robe that made him look distinguished and important, which she guessed he was now. Both of them. Weasley was an auror for Merlin's sake. And Granger was already a top ranking official at the ministry of magic, working in magical creatures rights or some such shit. It only made Pansy feel even more inadequate. Why yes, I'm a philanthropist. The phrase made her stomach turn.

Potter was no where to be found, but that was nothing new. He had probably been roped into some horrid discussion about goblin rights or some such rubbish by all the diplomats here tonight. Sometimes Pansy actually felt sorry for him.

Across the room Pansy's eye caught that unmistakable white blond hair. Draco bobbed into view, looking miserable as always. He caught her eye and nodded in her direction. She forced a smile back, but made no move toward him. There was nothing left to be said between them.

Draco's parents sent him to these things in their steed because they were both too traumatized to leave their manor. They'd been mysteriously and inexplicably pardoned for their war crimes at the insistence of Harry Potter himself, and for that the Malfoys donated to every cause Potter endorsed. It made very little sense, especially to Pansy, but it was why it was so important that Potter be seen at these events. Potter meant money. Money meant success and success meant that the Parkinson family upheld their status as wizarding royalty.

Pansy rolled her eyes and gulped down the last of her elf-made sparkling wine. It was sweet and gritty on her tongue and her stomach rolled for a moment. She hadn't eaten much that day and her head suddenly swam. She needed some fresh air. It's not as if she'd be missed. No one was talking to her anyway. People rarely did.

She exited the party off the main floor out into a secluded courtyard garden. It was a cool November night and the air felt good on her skin. The smell of jasmine surrounded her and she relished the quiet, the calm.

A small sound made her turn around. It was then that she realized she wasn't alone. A figure stood hunched against the garden wall. Pansy lit her wand and drew closer. As her eyes adjusted to the night, she found herself face to face with none other than Harry Potter.

He still looked the same as he did when they were in school even though someone had clearly tried to tame him. He still had that same messy black hair, same glasses that sat a little too crooked on his face (why didn't he get a new pair for Merlin's sake?) and upon closer inspection, Pansy soon realized he was wearing the same bottle green dress robes he'd worn to the Yule Ball in their fourth year. Her eyes swept the hem at his feet and wrists and she was little surprised to find it had been altered rather poorly with a growth charm to adjust to his height.

She resisted the urge to scoff. The man was the savior of the entire wizarding world, had endless funds from his own family name, as well as that of the Blacks which was no small fortune, not to mention the fact that any robe maker would happily have him wear any of their designs free of charge (simply for the publicity...it's how Granger remained so well dressed) and yet here he was, at one of the most posh galas of the year, still wearing the same dress robes from Hogwarts.

How did he even exist?

"Pansy Parkinson," he said her name as a statement and a rather slurred one.

"You're smashed, Potter," she answered and sure enough he brought a flask of fire whiskey to his lips and took a swig. He cheers to her, then took another longer drag.

"You best be careful," Pansy said, wrinkling her nose. The man reeked of the stuff. She was surprised she didn't smell him the moment she went outside. "About a dozen reporters are here, and whatever truce you have with Rita Skeeter will doubtfully apply to the rest of them. No one would ignore the Chosen One being completely pissed at the gala for the benefit of war orphans."

"S'pose not," he said. He pocketed the flask and pushed away from the wall. He took a tottering step and promptly stumbled into a bush. He landed hard on his knees, then rolled to the ground before settling on his back giggling.

Merlin.

Pansy pursed her lips. She should just leave him here. It's not like she and Potter were friendly after all. In fact, other than a few cordial greetings over the years, she hadn't actually spoken to him since Hogwarts. And of course back then, could that really be considered speaking? It was more like jeering. She was such a shit back then.

She did sort of owe him. There was that whole thing where she tried to turn him into You-Know-Who.

Pansy sighed and pocketed her wand. "Oh go on," she grumbled as she pulled Potter's arm over her shoulder so she could haul him to his feet.

He leaned on her heavily, and Pansy steered him toward the staircase that led up to her personal terrace. She cast a concealment charm as they climbed the steps. Best not to be spotted leading a drunken Potter up to her bedroom. Imagine the scandal.

She led him through her ornate French doors and into her suite to the adjoining bathroom. Waving her wand, she lit the room and deposited the now hiccuping Potter onto the toilet and began rummaging through her medicine cupboard.

"I was saving this for a special occasion," she said as she thrust a vial of pearly pink potion in Harry's direction. "But I guess your needs are greater than mine, so bottoms up."

Potter studied the concoction with eyes that were very nearly crossed. "Wha izzit?" he slurred.

Pansy raised her eyebrows. "You don't get sloshed often enough, do you Potter? It's a sobering potion."

"Who sayz I wanna be sober?" Potter asked her.

Pansy shrugged as she settled herself on the vanity, her legs crossed under her black silk robe. "Fine," she said, "piss your pants in front of half of the Daily Prophet. Be my guest, but don't say I never tried to help. Besides, as smashed as you are, it probably won't make you completely sober. You'll still be a bumbling idiot...don't worry."

Harry glared at her a brief moment before uncorking the vial and tossing the potion back. It took about ten seconds before Pansy could see the effects. His eyes cleared and his pink face faded back to its normal swarthy tan. It was another thirty before he was vomiting.

Pansy couldn't help but smirk. "Forgot to mention that part," she said as Harry glared up at her from the toilet.

When he'd finished he sat back down heavily, took off his glasses and rubbed at his face vigorously. Pansy watch him impassively with her arms and her legs crossed. She summoned a glass and filled it with water. She handed it to him and he muttered a thanks before gulping it down.

Pansy watched as Potter buried his head in his hands, and for the first time since she saw his drunken arse in the courtyard, she wondered just what had driven the Boy Who Lived to get uncontrollably smashed. She thought about just asking him. It's what she would have done if it were anyone else sitting before her. But this was Harry Potter. And she was… well. She was Pansy Parkinson and while she and her family hadn't technically been death eaters, they weren't not death eaters. No matter what her mother pretended to be these days, she and Pansy's father, her aunts and uncles and cousins, they were all happy to sit the sidelines during the war and favor whoever won. To be fair, that's what most pureblood families did. They weren't really all that different than the Prewetts and the Greengrasses and even the Fawleys who never officially declared sides and didn't have any prominent family members representing them as death eaters. But they didn't fight either.

Pansy didn't fight. She didn't fight. That horrid seventh year at Hogwarts...the things those Carrows wanted them to do. What Amycus made her do...the things he did to her. And she'd survived it all by hiding behind her pretty face and her blood status and her last name. No one cared. Not even Snape and McGonnagal, not even the Weasley girl and Longbottom and all those pitiful DA members who fancied themselves saviors. They had new injuries every other day and Pansy thought they were insane, the lot of them. To resist was the die, didn't they see that? And many of them did die. They did.

Even Harry had died.

The Boy Who Lived had died, then lived again. A miracle many still didn't understand, Pansy included. But here he was. The boy wonder. Vomiting in her toilet.

He finally looked up at her and Pansy had a momentary shock that Harry Potter wasn't actually bad looking. Without his glasses, Pansy could clearly see those green eyes everyone always talked about. She realized with a jolt that she'd never actually been close enough to him to actually see. See the way they sort of glowed. Like emeralds, like actual jewels.

Her heart fluttered. And it made her angry. It made her feel vulnerable. And she was so done feeling vulnerable.

"So, Chosen One," Pansy said snidely as she studied her fingernails. "What's with the fire whiskey anyway? Felt like livening up the party out there? I admit it is rather dull."

Harry shook his head. "I've just been going through some things."

Pansy scoffed. "Going through some things? I suppose having thousands of admirers falling at your feet isn't enough for you? Now you've got things?"

Harry glared at her. "You haven't changed a bit, have you, Pansy Parkinson?"

Pansy laughed meanly. "No more than you. Still feeling sorry for yourself, are you? Still fancying yourself the poor little orphan? That's why you're here tonight, right? To help war orphans like yourself? Some job you're doing of it, getting pissed and hiding in a courtyard."

Harry stood up. "You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I?"

"You don't. All you know is parties and jewels and money and Merlin why am I even talking to you?" He turned to leave. "Thanks for the potion. I'll be going now."

Pansy stood up now. "You think you're the only one who's suffered? You think you're the only one who's got things? We've all got things, Potter. You're the just the only one who's allowed to wallow in them, is that it?"

"Don't be ridiculous," Harry snarled. "I put on a happy face and smile for the bloody cameras and I come to these parties with people who would have stabbed me in the back five years ago, and I do it all because I was there, Pansy. I am the one who saw the dead bodies and the kids crying and I have a godson who will never know his parents, and yes, I was bloody one of them. And where were you that night? Fleeing. Just like the coward you always were. Now if you'll excuse me." He turned to leave again and in a rage Pansy waved her wand with such viciousness that the bathroom door slammed shut.

"Coward, you think I am?" Pansy said softly and her voice was low, dangerous. "Do you have any idea what it was like at Hogwarts that year? Do you have any idea what we all went through, what I went through. Of course not. All you've heard is what your precious girlfriend told you. The blood traitor that the Carrows all but ignored unless she was making trouble. But me? Did they ignore me? Did they let me just be? Do you have any idea what it was like for me, Potter? To be Amycus's little plaything? Because he liked me Potter! He liked me, and it didn't matter that I was a student, that I was a young girl, or that I said no. All that mattered was that he liked me, and he wanted me, and I was pure blood and the Dark Lord promised him pure blood. And no one could protect me. All I could do was endure it all. You think me a coward, do you? For fleeing? You don't know anything, Potter!"

She was crying now and her hands trembled on her wand. She didn't know why she was telling him this. She'd never told anyone, not really. Draco knew, but only because Amycus used to brag to him about it. How he'd stolen his girlfriend. Another way to rub it in Draco's face that he and his father had fallen out of favor with the Dark Lord. Amycus used to whisper things in Draco's ear. Filthy things. The filthy things he'd done to Pansy, and he'd laugh and lick his lips and Draco could do nothing. Nothing except look at her guiltily, pityingly.

Sort of the way Potter was looking at her right now.

She didn't want his pity. She didn't want his guilt. She just wanted him to understand. To understand why she did what she did that night. Why she wanted it all to just...end.

"You're right," Harry said, and he looked like he might vomit again. "I don't know anything. I didn't know. And...I'm sorry. That's...horrible."

Pansy seemed to deflate. She collapsed on the toilet seat, and buried her face in her hands. Potter handed her a wad of toilet paper and she took it, carefully dabbing at her kohl lined eyes.

"I shouldn't have told you that," she muttered. "It's not something I want people...knowing."

Potter sighed and sat down opposite her on the edge of her immaculate bathtub. He sat there quietly for a moment.

"Ginny's chucked me," he said finally.

"What?" Pansy was still drying her eyes, still trying to calm her racing heart.

"It's the things I've been dealing with. Ginny. She's chucked me for some Bulgarian beater, Boris Vulchanov."

"You're kidding," Pansy said.

"I know. I'm being an idiot...I know it doesn't compare to what-"

"That twat!"

"What?"

"That unbelievable twat. I never did like her, no matter what Blaise always said. What a bloody idiot. Chucking the Boy Who Lived for some daft quidditch player. And a foreign one at that."

Potter raised his eyebrows. "What do you c-?"

"I suppose she thinks she's all high and mighty now that she plays for the Harpies."

"I really didn't think you'd-"

"I mean, honestly. Boris Vulchanov? He's not even good looking. And he talks like he's taken one too many bludgers to the head. The bloody idiot."

Potter cocked his head to side. "I don't know what's more strange. Your outrage or the fact that you know who Boris Vulchanov is."

"Oh, don't be ridiculous. Everyone knows who Boris Vulchanov is. And if you ask me, he'll never live up to his father's stats. He's too thick."

Potter's mouth was hanging open.

"Ginny bloody Weasley chucks Harry bloody Potter…" Pansy shook her head in disbelief.

Harry frowned. "Well I'd rather her chuck me than stay with me just because I am...who I am."

Pansy leveled him with a glare. "That's not what I meant," she said. "It's just that the two of you… well Merlin if Harry Potter and Ginny bloody Weasley can't make it work, then what's that say for the rest of us?"

"That we're just as fucked as everyone else?"

Pansy surprised herself by laughing.

And Harry cracked a smile.

And Pansy's heart fluttered again.

She heaved a sigh. "Well I take back what I said before. You totally deserve to get smashed." Taking out her wand again, she summoned in a bottle of Scotch, the good kind, the kind she saved for special occasions.

"Whatever they say about muggles," Pansy said as she poured out two glasses. "They know how to make their liquor. Here." She handed him a glass and raised her own. "To Ginny bloody Weasley and Boris Vulchanov. May they both fall off their brooms."

Their glasses clinked and they both took a healthy sip. "Good, eh?"

Potter smacked his lips and nodded. "You know, my uncle used to drink this stuff like it was liquid gold. I always thought he was exaggerating."

"Was it awful? Being raised by muggles?"

Harry snorted. "It was awful being raised by the Dursleys, yes. Because they were muggles? Nah."

They sat in silence a bit longer, each sipping their Scotch, each lost in their own haunted memories.

"I'm sorry," Pansy said. "About what I said earlier. And about...well. You know. When I wanted to hand you over. I thank god every day that no one listened to me."

Harry drained his glass and poured them both another.

And they sat there. Together in Pansy's oversized bathroom, sipping muggle Scotch and silently forgiving each other.

2

Harry saw Pansy again about a month and a half later. She was standing in line at a shop in Diagon Alley, her arms filled with brightly wrapped parcels. She wore gray robes, stylishly cinched at the waist with a long matching cloak that was buttoned to her throat. A light pink scarf circled her neck and her black hair was windswept, her fringe a bit mussed and her cheeks a bit pink.

Harry caught himself staring before he realized it.

If he was completely honest with himself, he'd thought of Pansy Parkinson more than he'd have liked in the past weeks. It was a bit...annoying really. He often wondered what she was doing, who she was with, what she was wearing that day. It was absurd.

And then there was that trip to Azkaban.

After arresting Corban Yaxley, having taken years to track him down, Harry had wanted to personally escort him to Azkaban, as the man had managed to escape ministry clutches three times already. After depositing him in a high security cell, Harry had found himself standing in front of Amycus Carrow.

The man was lying on a low, hard bed. His legs were crossed as he thumbed through a copy of Witch Weekly. He looked so...at ease. Comfortable. And the rage that hit Harry was so hard that it was alarming. All he could think about was what Pansy had said. What this...scum...had done to her. He nearly reached through the bars and cursed the man right then. He'd settled for incinerating the Witch Weekly.

He watched Pansy pay for her items and exit the crowded shop. It was nearing Christmas and Diagon Alley was a bustle with witches and wizards scrambling to find gifts. Harry followed her outside into the snowy street. She had taken out her wand and was levitating several parcels and shopping bags, making her way toward Weasley's Wizard Wheezes.

Harry entered the shop behind her and wasn't surprised to find that the store was more crowded than ever. Fred and George had just launched a new product that was selling like wildfire. Harry had actually had a hand in its development and was quite pleased to see its success.

"Messenger Diaries for sale over here," called out a familiar voice. "Step right up, there's enough for everyone. The perfect holiday gift." George was manning the Diaries sections and though his face was a bit red, he seemed to be enjoying himself.

The diaries really were a brilliant new invention and Harry and Ginny had actually gotten the idea from that old diary of Tom Riddle's (though they'd never admit it to anyone but each other). When Ginny joined the Harpies, she'd had to move to Holyhead, of course, which meant she and Harry rarely found time to see each other. And then there was the match schedule which took her around the world and with Harry busy with auror training and his work with the ministry, it was becoming harder and harder for she and Harry to keep in touch. Owls were much too slow, and flooing required a fireplace, and was always a bit uncomfortable. If only there was a way to write messages to one another that they would receive instantly.

"I hate to say it," Ginny had said, "but I sort of wish we had something like Riddle's old diary. It was bloody convenient being able to chat with him all day."

"Well if Riddle could do it, why can't we?" Harry had said. And so he had enlisted Fred and George's creative minds to help. It was quite simple once they got the logistics down. As long as two people had diaries, they could write to each other.

"Like walkie-talkies," Harry had mused, though the twins had no idea what he was talking about. But Fred took it a step further and enhanced the product so that one could chat with anyone else in the world who also had a diary.

"All you have to do," he'd explained, "is write their name at the top of the page, like this." He demonstrated by writing "Ron Weasley" at the top of a random page. "And now you just..." He took out a quill and wrote Hey git, don't think I didn't see you pocket those dung bombs. You owe four sickles or I'm docking it from your pay.

From across the room Harry and Fred had watched Ron's diary chirp. He opened it, read the message and frowned. He turned and made a rude hand gesture at Fred who merely waved.

"Neat, eh?" Fred asked.

"Brilliant," said Harry.

"We're going to make a killing of it. All thanks to you and Ginny. Don't worry, you two will get your share."

"Don't be daft," Harry protested. But Fred and George were very careful accountants. They were always sure Harry got his share in his investment and despite all Harry could do to discourage this, he continued to find fat amounts of gold in his Gringotts vault, deposits marked Weasley Bros Inc.

Harry watched Pansy head straight for the Messenger Diaries. She inspected several different styles, for the twins had different cover designs for sale. There was the standard brown leather, but also an assortment of designs ranging from deep purple with silver stars to vibrant orange and red stripes.

Pansy selected a shimmering pink that came with a matching quill and Harry smirked. He remembered how Ginny had detested the pink one. She then selected an emerald green one before making her way to stand in the curling line to get to the cash register. Harry saw that the twins had hired several new faces to help in the Christmas time rush, among which he spotted Colin and Dennis Creevy. They stood at adjacent registers, each wearing a matching smile and magenta robes.

Harry followed Pansy as she exited the shop and snaked her way through the crowded street, her parcels floating along behind her. She held her head high, her narrow hips sashaying as she strode along, quite oblivious to Harry following her.

She paused outside Madam Malkin's and surveyed a robe in the window display. When she went inside, Harry took out his own messenger diary. He turned to a new page and wrote her name at the top. Pansy Parkinson.

Fancy a cup of tea?

Her response came quicker than he would've thought.

Bout time you've asked. Seeing as you've been following me all afternoon.

Harry laughed out loud.

Meet me at Rosa Lee's in ten minutes?

More like twenty. I've just found a set of robes to die for. Must try on first.

And so Harry found himself, twenty minutes later, sitting in a crowded tea shop, across from Pansy Parkinson as she sipped her tea and nibbled on a biscuit shaped like a snowman.

Her cheeks were still pink from the cold, and her lipstick left red stains on the teacup. Her fingernails were perfectly manicured, painted a bright, festive gold that matched the studs in her ears. And she looked...beautiful.

Harry couldn't help it. She did.

"So," he said. "Er, Christmas shopping?" He nodded at her parcels and bags which now floated above their table, bumping gently into neighboring parcels as other patrons levitated their purchases as well.

"Ah yes," Pansy said. "All the obligatory gifts. New quills for Mum, shiny new cauldron for Dad—one he will never use, mind you. Let's see, a new hat for Grandmum, which she will surely detest but then...she detests everything. Some sweets for the house elves...let's see, what else..."

"Who's the second diary for?"

"Oh, I'm sending that to Daphne. She and her family moved to America, didn't you know? Just before all hell broke out here. I expect they'll move back after Astoria graduates Ilvermorny, but who knows. Daphne seems quite at home there. Met an American bloke she seems quite enamored with. It's a shame really. She's the only real friend I have left." Pansy smiled wistfully and took a sip of tea to hide her sadness. But it was there. Just under all the makeup and beauty potions, Harry could see it.

Harry didn't really know Daphne Greengrass. She was in his year, but being a Slytherin and one of Pansy and Draco's lackies, he never gave her the time of day. Of what he remembered of her, she was quiet, pretty, and was often found sniggering at something mean Pansy or Draco had said about him.

"And what brings you to Diagon Alley? Christmas shopping too?" Pansy asked him politely.

Harry frowned. "Er, yes. Kind of. I—well, Christmas this year might be a bit...awkward for me, considering…."

"Ah," Pansy nodded. "Considering the She-Weasle chucked you and you spend Christmas with her family every year."

Harry nodded. "Yes, she er—owled me that she was bringing Boris home to meet the family. Puts me in a bit of a strange position."

Pansy rolled her eyes. "The twat," she muttered under her breath. And despite the fact that Harry's impulse was to defend Ginny, he couldn't help feeling a perverse thrill at hearing Pansy's disdain. Part of him agreed. Yes, Ginny was a twat. He was angry with her. And everyone else in his life seemed very eager to stay on neutral territory when it came to Harry and Ginny's breakup. And he couldn't blame them, not really. Half of his friends were related to her, for Merlin's sake. And the other half –well….they adored her. Most people did.

But not Pansy. And that was...refreshing.

He raised his teacup and cheersed her. "So I fear my Christmas this year will very much consist of me popping into the Burrow for half an hour, just enough to drop off gifts and ensure Mrs. Weasley's feelings aren't hurt, then spending the rest of the day at home with my very old, surly house-elf and a portrait of a woman who hates my very existence."

Pansy wrinkled her nose. "I doubt that a dozen or more wizarding families wouldn't very much welcome the Boy Who Lived at their Christmas table."

"Yes, that's just what I want," said Harry sarcastically. "To spend Christmas dinner being toasted and saluted and asked to recount how I'd died and come back to life. That's in the real spirit of the holiday."

"Perhaps not," said Pansy. "Though might be better than spending Christmas alone."

"I suppose you have some lavish pureblood party to attend?"

Pansy sighed. "Well, yes. The Parkinsons are rather connected. Every Christmas Eve the Notts throw this large, ridiculous dinner party where we purebloods stand around together and congratulate ourselves on our numerous achievements and blessings...and until recently discuss how the muggles and muggleborns were destroying our society. But oh no, not anymore. Now it's all about integration and tolerance and creating a new world where wizards and muggles coexist peacefully. All thanks to you and Granger, really."

"Is that so?" Harry said.

"It's all very hypocritical. But at least the wine is good."

"I suppose you have some pureblooded suitor lined up to be your date to this party?"

Pansy snorted into her tea. "Are you serious, Potter? You think I have suitors? First of all, what bloody year do you think this is? And secondly… I don't suppose you read the papers do you?"

Harry gave Pansy a blank stare.

Pansy sighed. "You know Rita Skeeter might be on a tight leash when it comes to you and your posse, but unfortunately for the rest of us...we are free game. And her favorite topics are those of us who were so bold as to oppose you during the war. There's an article in the Daily Prophet every other week about me."

"About what?" Harry said, confused.

"Oh, usually some snapshot of me with an unflattering look on my face with some appalling caption like, 'Pansy Parkinson, Underground Death Eater Cult?' or 'Pansy Parkinson's Secret Pregnancy- how she sacrificed her baby to the Dark Lord!' She almost always begins the article by reminding everyone that I was the one who of course suggested we all turn on you at the battle of Hogwarts. No one wants anything to do with me, least of all romantically. Anyone seen with me in public runs the risk of being my alleged baby daddy to the child I used for some spell to bring back You-Know-Who, or some such rubbish."

"I see," Harry said slowly. He glanced around.

"Oh, don't worry," Pansy said. "There aren't any reporters here. And no one has been following me today...well except for you."

"How did you know I was following you?" Harry asked. "I thought I was being very discreet."

"Oh, you were," Pansy assured him. "You were the proper creep, don't worry. You'd make a fine serial killer. But lucky for me, I've had ample experience with predators and I've become quite adept at the tracking charm. It alerts me to anyone following me, or anyone getting too close. It only took once of being attacked by one of your many fanatics for me to realize I need to protect myself a bit better."

"The tracker charm?" Harry asked. "I've never heard of it."

"Ah, well you wouldn't would you? Learned it seventh year. Flitwick sort of took it upon himself, as did most of the other teachers, to take on teaching some more defensive spells. You know, since Defense Against the Dark Arts had ceased to exist."

"Ah," said Harry.

"It's bloody useful," Pansy went on. "Perhaps you should learn it yourself. Might save you the trouble of being harassed for autographs every few minutes."

"Perhaps you might teach it to me," Harry said before he could stop himself.

Pansy started to say something, but stopped as a blush crept over her cheeks. She buried her face in her teacup in an attempt to hide it, but Harry saw. And his heart lurched.

"So this party," Harry hedged. "At the Nott's… will there be press there?"

"Of course," said Pansy. "They never miss it. The Notts actually invite them. Pay them off to write something positive."

"And will the press be writing about you then?"

"It's likely, yes." Pansy said wearily.

"Well," said Harry, and here he started to smile. "What would they write about if you showed up with a pure blooded suitor on your arm? A certain, war hero of a certain...notoriety?"

Pansy frowned. "Potter, are you actually saying…?"

"Well, why not?" Harry asked. "You said it yourself, anything is better than being alone on Christmas. And this gives me a good excuse to duck out of the Weasleys. And of course, I still owe you for saving me from embarrassment at the last gala. Least I can do is return the favor. Imagine what the papers will say if they see we are friendly. All is forgiven, you're not a death eater, and so on."

Pansy looked down at her plate a moment. "Is it all forgiven then?" she asked quietly without looking at him.

Harry reached out and impulsively took her hand. It was warmer than he thought it would be, her fingers small and delicate. She looked up at him, her expression both surprised and hopeful. "There's nothing to forgive," Harry said softly. "The war was...hard. On everyone. I understand more now...what you were going through."

Pansy visibly swallowed and nodded, giving his hand a gentle squeeze back.

"So it's settled then?" Harry said lightly. "You'll take me with you to Nott's Christmas party?"

"On one condition," Pansy said, tossing her hair back.

Harry raised an eyebrow.

"You wear proper dress robes. Not that ghastly one from the Yule Ball. Something new. Something posh."

Harry laughed. "It's a deal."

3

Pansy stood in front of her full length mirror and studied her reflection. It'd been a long time since she'd dressed with such care.

Her hair was sleek and straight, and it framed her face perfectly. She wore it just as she always did, a black bob with a thick straight fringe that hovered just over her blue eyes which she had lined with kohl, a thick coat of mascara and shimmering eyeshadow. Her complexion was perfect thanks to a beauty potion she'd splurged on and her lips were berry red and matched her robes –the latest fashion – floor length with a plunging neckline that went down past her sternum. The sleeves were tight to the wrist where they flared out slightly and it was made out of a slinky new material that clung to her every curve. She'd paired it with a short gold necklace and matching gold chandelier earrings and when she moved, every bit of her seemed to sparkle. On her feet she wore a pair of simple black stilettos, her creamy white legs peaking out from a slit in the robe.

Pansy checked the clock. Potter would be arriving in just a few minutes time by floo and then from Pansy's suite they would floo to the Nott party together. She tried (and failed) to calm her fluttering heart, reminding herself repeatedly that Potter was just doing them both a favor by accompanying her to the party… but the truth was, her mind seemed determined to think of this as a proper date. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel a hint of attraction to him. Okay, more than a hint. And it made no sense because he was Harry bloody Potter, and she was Pansy bloody Parkinson and she'd spent most of her life despising him. But for what? Simply because Draco hated him, and she always did what Draco said?

Well Pansy decided to put that all behind her. All was forgiven. Isn't that what Harry had said?

Pansy checked the clock again.

She had no idea what Potter would be wearing. She'd received a number of messages in her diary a few days ago that had given her cause for concern.

H: Pansy, what's the difference between white and ivory? Is ivory just a dirtier white? Why does it cost more?

H: Should I get cufflinks?

H: What are cufflinks?

H: Do they honestly expect me not to wear trousers under the robe? Is that really the latest trend?

Pansy had finally taken pity on him and responded. P: Don't let them talk you into white. Ask for a forest green blended robe, calf length with matching trousers. And yes, get cufflinks, preferably gold.

And when Potter walked through Pansy's ornate fireplace a few seconds later, Pansy was almost rendered speechless by how closely he had followed her directions.

His robe was perfectly tailored, dark green with golden embroidery. It hit him at mid-calf, just as she'd instructed, and he wore matching green trousers underneath. The robe was cut close to his shoulders and waist, accenting both his broad back and trim waistline. He looked...good. Someone had actually succeeded in taming his wild hair (Pansy suspected Sleekeasy's potion) and he wore new glasses –black rectangular frames that complimented the sharp angles of his face and jawline.

"Well don't you look dashing," she said, recovering from her momentary shock.

He smiled at her. "Likewise," he said, his eyes sweeping her from head to toe, lingering just a moment too long at her plunging neckline.

Pansy flushed and swallowed. "Well, shall we go then?"

"Just a moment," Harry said. "I um...well. Considering it is Christmas and all. I...got you a present."

"A present?" Pansy said.

"Yes, you know. Gift giving is sort of a Christmas tradition, isn't it? Here." He took a small poorly wrapped parcel from his pocket and handed it to her.

She held it in her hand and frowned. "I didn't get you anything," she said bluntly.

Harry laughed. "Don't feel bad just yet. You haven't even opened it."

Pansy tore at the shiny red and white paper, revealing a small black box. She opened it and nestled inside in a pillow of velvet was a small gold bracelet with a tiny emerald in the center.

"It's got a cheering charm. Just something to spread the Christmas cheer is all. No need to get weepy about it," Harry said, sounding a bit panicked.

Pansy hadn't realize that her eyes had misted over. She blinked rapidly and looked up. "Thank you," she said. She slipped the bracelet onto her wrist and she immediately felt the charm's effects. Happiness bubbled in her chest and suddenly she was smiling.

"Strong," she said a little breathlessly.

Harry nodded and held up his wrist which bore a matching gold cuff. His smile was as wide as hers. "I thought we could both use a little fun tonight."

Pansy sighed happily. "You thought right."

"Well," Harry said, offering her his arm. Pansy took it and together they made their way back over to the fireplace.

"Oh wait," Pansy said. "I almost forgot." She went to her desk and picked up the invitation. It was spelled so that it allowed access to the party, which was strictly invitation only, very exclusive. Once Harry had basically invited himself, Pansy had owled the Notts to change her RSVP from one seat to two. She received a new invitation back almost immediately, that showed two guests were now allowed access to the party.

They flooed into the Nott's main foyer. It was a magnificent room. At least a dozen Christmas trees lined the walls, each decorated with silver and gold baubles, tinsel and sparkling lights. The ceiling hung with garlands and enchanted snow fell around them. They were greeted by a sweet little house elf wearing a red and green pointed hat with a matching dress and curling shoes. She looked straight out of the North Pole and every time she moved jingle bells sung from her hat and shoes.

"Right this way," she squeaked, and she led them out of the foyer, down a hallway and into the main ballroom. The Nott's manor was very large, but Pansy knew the ballroom had been magically enhanced to accommodate so many guests. It was quite crowded already. Witches and wizards mingled in a sea of colors, chatting and hugging and laughing. No one had noticed them yet, which Pansy was secretly grateful for, but she knew it was only a matter of time.

"Shall we get a drink?" Harry asked.

She nodded gratefully and pointed toward the bar positioned just to their left. Pansy ordered a glass of red wine, and Potter ordered a scotch. They were just turning away when Pansy heard her name.

"Hello cousin," It was Theodore. He leaned in and kissed Pansy on the cheek.

"Theo," Pansy nodded. "How are you?"

"Oh, you know, the same. The mastery at the department of mysteries is keeping me quite busy. My final project is due at the end of the- Potter?"

"Hello Theodore," Harry said, lightly raising his glass in greeting.

"I didn't know you'd- with Pansy?" Theo looked back and forth between the two of them as if waiting for some kind of explanation.

"Good of Pansy to invite me," Harry said. "I've been wanting to meet her family in full for ages. This seemed an opportune moment, seeing as it's Christmas and all."

"Er, yes," Theo said, eying Pansy, who merely smiled. Her cheering charm was in full effect and she was finding this entire exchange quite hilarious.

"Well… er, welcome?" Theo tried again. "This is my grandmother's house. She'll be….er….delighted that you're here."

Harry nodded gratefully and started to lead Pansy away. They left Theo standing there with his mouth agape and Pansy covered her mouth to stifle the burst of giggles that just exploded.

"This is going to be fun," Harry said softly in her ear, and Pansy's neck broke out in goosebumps. They meandered around the room, Harry's hand settled lightly on Pansy's lower back. Pansy watched people glance at her and then away, so used to avoiding her as they were. It was most comical once they realized who she was with. Their heads nearly rocketed off their necks as they did a double take.

"I didn't know Theodore Nott was your cousin," Harry said, taking a sip of scotch as they walked.

"Oh yes," Pansy nodded. "Our mothers were sisters. Both Warringtons."

"Is that so?"

"Of course. Though, poor Theo's mother died when we were very young. He was raised by his father, didn't you know? The death eater. I don't think anyone else in the world was happier than Theo was when the wanker was sent to Azkaban. I think he's secretly grateful to you for that. Ah, and Cassius is just over there. You remember Cassius?" She pointed at her other cousin who was standing just ahead of them. He wore green robes, similar to the ones Harry wore, and his golden blond hair was so carefully disheveled it was almost comical. He stood next to his date, a pretty brunette Pansy recognized as Eleanor Branstone, a muggle-born Hufflepuff several years their junior. Pansy studied Cassius. He looked as pompous and bored as ever, and she wondered if he were really interested in Eleanor, or was simply courting her to improve his family's image after the war.

"Ah, yes," Harry said. "Played Chaser for Slytherin?"

"Harry! Harry, good to see you!" Horace Slughorn seemed to materialize out of nowhere. Pansy watched as her old professor's reddened face smiled fondly and greeted Harry profusely. Slughorn was closely followed by Mr. Olivander, the wandmaker and another distant relative of Pansy's. And so for the next twenty minutes until dinner was served Harry was greeted and received and smiled and cajoled into hugs and handshakes, so much so that Pansy finally took pity on him and directed him straight to their table.

The ballroom was set up with two dozen massive round tables that seated twelve. Pansy and Harry were seated with an assortment of Pansy's cousins. Cassius and Eleanor, Theo and Tracey Davis, her two elder Parkinson cousins from her father's side of the family. Both heirs to massive fortune and had pureblood wives with 2.5 children, lived in wizarding villages and had upstanding careers at the ministry. They pointedly ignored Pansy on most occasions, but tonight they were all smiles, and "Happy Christmas" and "lovely weather we've been having" and "Oh, Harry Potter, what a pleasure!"

Dinner was delicious, of course. A six course masterpiece that left Pansy feeling comfortably full and warm. Her wine glass was never empty and she was feeling quite good by the time their plates had been cleared and the music started.

"Is that Celestina Warbeck?" Harry's voice came from her shoulder, his lips hovering just over her ear.

"Of course," Pansy said, turning toward the stage. "She sings every year."

Harry's eyes widened. "I've tried three times to get tickets to her show as a gift to Mrs. Weasley. They're always sold out instantly."

Pansy watched the aging witch in her glittering robe and her elaborately styled hair as she crooned out her classic hit, A Cauldron Full of Hot Strong Love. She shrugged. "I suppose I could introduce you. I'm sure if she would have known the famous Harry Potter wanted to get tickets to her show, she wouldn't refuse you a box seat."

Harry gave her a lopsided grin. "I don't suppose you'd care to dance, would you?"

Slowly couples were taking the dance floor, swaying together as Celestina switched tunes and started in on a Christmas song about the three Magi and their travels to Bethlehem.

So Pansy followed Harry out to the dance floor. The cheering charm and the wine and her full stomach were filling her with a sense of elation that she couldn't describe. It felt like a dream, swaying there in Harry's arms, his warm breath on her neck, her chest pressed lightly against his. This close, he smelled oddly like wood. Like he'd just gotten off of a broomstick.

She didn't even notice the cameras.

They danced for several more songs, and when Celestina took a break Pansy introduced her to Harry, and they chatted like old pals. Then there was more wine, and more people to meet, and house elves walking around with trays full of chocolate cauldrons spiked with fire whiskey, and Kingsley Shacklebolt, the bloody minister of magic, was hugging her, for Merlin's sake and before she knew it she and Harry were standing in the doorway under a patch of mistletoe, and Harry was saying something about Nargles, and then he was kissing her.

And for a bit, she couldn't breathe. Like the oxygen had been sucked from her lungs, and lights were flashing, and people were laughing, and his lips felt like soft cushions of heat, and he tasted like whiskey and chocolate, and something else that reminded her of quidditch games at Hogwarts and she still couldn't believe that Harry Potter was kissing her, and then they were dancing again. And the cheering charm and the wine and Harry, it was all happening so fast and so strange, and so amazing and she loved it, every minute of it…

4

"Harry, are you mad?" Hermione slammed a copy of the Daily Prophet down on the bar table, her face a violent shade of pink, and her hair looking particularly bushy. "Pansy Parkinson?"

Harry looked down at the moving photograph of he and Pansy kissing the other night at the Christmas party. He hadn't realized that he'd sort of pinned her against the door jam, one hand braced against the wall, the other wrapped tightly around her waist. Her hand cupped the back of his neck, and their lips moved passionately.

The memory of her lips and her body and the warmth he felt… it set his veins on fire. He couldn't keep the smile off his face.

"You think this is funny, do you?" Hermione's voice had taken on that shrill tone she used to use in school when she was telling him off for copying.

"Oh come on, Hermione," Ron said from Harry's right. "He's entitled to a rebound shag. I mean, Parkinson is an interesting choice, but-"

"Harry," Hermione said, cutting off Ron. She took a deep, steadying breath. "I know you and Ginny's breakup could hardly have been easy...but...but… Pansy Parkinson? Is this really the way to get back at Ginny?"

Harry frowned. "It's not about that," he said. "Hermione look. I know you don't like her. Hell none of us did. But she's changed. She's different now. I… fancy her."

"You fancy her?" Hermione shrieked. "Need I remind you that she it was she who suggested we turn you over to Voldemort that night at Hogwarts?"

"No, you don't need to remind me," Harry said crossly.

"Need I also remind you that she tortured us for six years of school? She made up that wretched song about Ron in fifth year and during the Triwizard Tournament she made up all those lies about you to Rita Skeeter? And what about Draco? How could you like someone who was so into him, like she was?"

"Hermione, come on. None of that was that bad."

"Not that bad?" Hermione's face turned even pinker. "Don't you remember fourth year when she sneaked into my dormitory and stole all of my underwear. Yes, all of it! And I had to write home to mum and dad to send me more. And then she just handed my knickers out to all the Slytherin boys who made up disgusting stories about how they'd gotten them. And then there was that whole period during third year when she charmed a tampon to fall out of my pocket every time I raised my hand in class."

Ron snorted and Hermione rounded on him with a glare so fierce Ron nearly backed away. "Sorry!" he said. "But...period." He raised his arms in surrender.

"Yes. Period. I'd just gotten my period that year and it was mortifying! Don't you remember any of this?"

Harry looked at Ron and raised his eyebrows. Ron shrugged. The truth was, Harry didn't recall either of those things. But then, he was a bit oblivious back then. "Hermione, come on," he begged. "I said she's different now. All those things happened in school. People change."

"Oh well, in that case, I'm sure you wouldn't mind a bit if I went off and snogged Goyle. I'm sure he's changed."

Harry sighed.

Hermione was studying the Daily Prophet again. "It says here that you went to the Nott's annual Christmas Eve party with her. Harry Potter was spotted sharing a mistletoe kiss with none other than pure blood bad girl, Pansy Parkinson."

"Bad girl," Ron chuckled.

"Could this mean the two have set aside their differences in the name of a budding romance, or was this merely revenge against Potter's newly split ex-lover Ginny Weasley, chaser for the Holyhead Harpies? See page eight for more details. Oh, honestly Harry. The press is having a field day."

"Oy!" Harry said, his voice rising a bit. "I don't complain when the two of you snog each other in public and your bloody faces are all over the cover pages. Just let this be… Meet her. Get to know her better. I promise things are different now."

"Do you mean to say...you're actually going to… date her?" Hermione said.

Harry shrugged. "I've invited her to Neville's New Years Party. She's said she'll go. I expect you can speak to her then."

"Harry, you didn't," Hermione said. "Don't you think you ought to… ask Neville if it's okay if you bring her?"

"Why would he care?" Harry asked.

"Well...because!"

"Hermione just because you hated her guts in school doesn't mean everyone did."

"Don't you remember how she cast that leg lock curse at him when he was trying to ask out Susan Bones? And how she actually pushed him down the stairs in fourth year? Or how she would call him Neville the Nutless? Or… or what was the other one? Oh yes, Limpdick Longbottom. She was just awful to him."

"But how did she know he was limpdicked?" Ron asked seriously.

"Well," Hermione said smugly. "That is the question, isn't it?"

Harry frowned. He didn't really remember Pansy being that terrible. But then… Neville was always being teased, especially by the Slytherins.

"Alright," Harry conceded. "I will ask Neville. But if he says it's fine, she's coming. And you best be nice to her. There's more to her than you know, Hermione. Trust me."

Hermione crossed her arms over her chest and looked doubtful. "Well there's Neville now. Go on and ask him."

Harry peered across the bar and sure enough, Neville had just arrived. He donned an apron and began his work behind the bar.

Ever since Neville quit the aurors to begin his mastery in herbology, he'd been working at the Leaky Cauldron alongside his girlfriend Hannah Abbott. Hannah's uncle Tom, the Inn's notoriously peculiar innkeeper had recently retired and left the entire establishment to her. And honestly it was probably the best business decision the man ever made because under Hannah's management, the Leaky Cauldron had become a completely different place. It was warm, and comfortable and served delicious food and drinks. It's rooms were no longer drab and dark, but decorated tastefully. It's service was impeccable and it was quickly becoming a favorite destination for witches and wizards all over the country, rather than just the entrance to Diagon Alley.

And for Harry, Ron and Hermione...it was basically a home away from home. They met up there nearly daily. They all lived in London now and with all three of them working at the ministry, it was a great place to meet up. And then of course, the pub always had friendly faces.

"Hi Harry," Neville greeted as Harry settled on a bar stool.

"Hey Neville," Harry began. "I was wondering...do you have a minute to chat?"

Neville shouldered a tea towel and turned to Harry, giving him his full attention? "'Course, mate," he said. "What's up?"

"So about yours and Hannah's New Year party… I was sort of wondering if it'd be okay if I… well, if I invited Pansy Parkinson?"

Neville grinned. "Well, of course. You can invite whoever you want."

"It doesn't bother you that...well that it's Pansy? You know, since she was sort of awful to you in school?"

Neville waved his hand dismissively. "Aw, Pansy's alright. She's changed a lot since then."

Harry nodded enthusiastically. "Right?" he asked. "That's what I've been saying." Neville followed Harry's gaze as he glanced toward Hermione and Ron.

Neville frowned. "Seventh year was harder on her than most people think. You three weren't there… you don't know how it was. Not really."

Harry paused and studied Neville. "What do you mean?" he asked quietly.

Neville lowered his voice and got a bit closer. "Well, it was the Carrows of course. They liked her. I knew what Amycus was doing to her. We all sort of knew. It was...kind of obvious."

"It was?"

"Well sure. Everyone always thought she had it easy...you know because they wouldn't punish her like they did the rest of us. She was always showing up late for class and not doing her work and smarting off to the teachers...but they'd just let it all slide, right? But then Amycus would make her stay after class with him most days and... she'd get all pale and shaky. I saw her afterward a few times and well...it wasn't pretty. I tried to help her. I really did. But you know Pansy… she snarled at me, told me to leave her alone." Neville shook his head as if to rid it of the painful memories. "Like I said, people thought she had it easy, but I'd rather take the cruciatus curse any day than what Amycus had in store for her."

Harry looked down at his hands. Had he really been so blind, all this time? Was it true that everyone knew? And that no one did anything? Harry looked up at Neville. There was still a scar on his cheek, a souvenir from the seventh year Harry missed out on. No. Neville had done something. Harry thought of the DA and the room of requirement and the stories he'd heard of the students rebelling…. They'd all done something, hadn't they? And they'd won in the end. He had to remind himself of that.

"And that night..." Neville went on. "The night of the battle when she… well when she wanted to turn you over?" Neville shrugged. "I sort of felt sorry for her, you know? She was so broken by then, like a horse. But honestly, ever since the war she's been right decent. You've heard about all the philanthropies she heads, right?"

When Harry gave Neville a blank look, Neville grinned. "Oh yeah, she's the head of loads of them." He started ticking them off on his fingers. "There's the War Orphan Welfare fund...you've heard of that one I'm sure."

"Of course," said Harry. "I donate every year. Teddy gets a good amount of benefits from it."

Neville nodded. "Hannah too. Even though she's of age and all, they give her a fair amount of money… you know, because her mother was killed by those death eaters sixth year? It helped rahab this place," he gestured to the Leaky Cauldron. "But at first Hannah didn't think she should get the money, you know? She thought the money should be used on kids and stuff. She tried to send it back, but then Pansy showed up one day with a bag of galleons and right near forced Hannah to take it. And the funny part was...even though she was being typical Pansy, yelling and insulting and being a right hag...she ended up hugging Hannah. Saying she was sorry for her loss and then they were both crying. It was mad."

Harry glanced back at Hermione. She was watching them carefully.

"And then there's the St. Mungo's Fund," Neville went on. "She raises a lot of amount of money for that one too. And you can tell things have gotten better there since she started heading the foundation. The hospital's expanded a lot. And now my mum and dad get their own rooms. It's more like a flat than a hospital room. They get their own kitchen and bathroom and sitting room… Me and Gran brought in a bunch of photographs to put up and old furniture from their house that my Gran kept all these years… and while they're still… you know... They seem happier. Mum makes her own tea now and my dad's even started doing a little magic again. Nothing crazy, just sort of turning the lights on and off and summoning his shoes, that sort of thing. Kid stuff you don't need a wand for...but it's done wonders. And I think it's because he feels more at home, like his old self. And I'm truly thankful for that."

"Blimey, Neville," Harry said. "That's great."

Neville nodded. "And that's not the half of it. She's on the board for the Welfare for Magical Creatures, the Muggle-born rights committee, the Severus Snape foundation, Pureblood allies…. Probably a few more. The papers don't report about any of that though," Neville said disdainfully. "They'd rather talk about her clothes or her hair or who they think she's shagging."

"Neville," Hermione interjected. Harry hadn't noticed that she'd joined them. "I've looked into those charities and while yes, they raise a lot of money, the Parkinsons and other pureblood families keep a substantial part of the money for themselves. So while sure, they might be raising money, they work it like a business and it's really not all that philanthropic."

Neville shrugged. "I don't know anything about that. I just see what I see, that's all. But anyway, I'd be happy if Pansy came to the New Years party. Hannah will be delighted too."

"Thanks Neville," Harry said, relieved.

5

Pansy peered over the edge of coffee mug and watched Draco pace the room furiously.

"I saw the Prophet this morning and I just couldn't believe it," he was saying, his hand running rampant through his blond hair. "I had to come over. I just don't understand. How could you do this?"

Draco had woken Pansy up this morning by pounding frantically at her front door, frightening the hell out of one of her house elves, demanding to see Pansy at once. She'd allowed him into her suite with a roll of her eyes. She knew this was coming.

Now she sat sipping her coffee and eating her breakfast, quietly watching him rant.

"It's Potter, of all people, Pansy. Potter! What are you trying to prove?" he glared at the wall, and wouldn't directly meet her eyes. "What's he trying to prove?" Draco muttered more to himself. "It's got to be an angle. Another swipe at me. Hasn't he gotten enough? How much more can I bend and scrape to him?"

"Draco," Pansy said firmly. "I know it's hard to imagine that absolutely everything in the world doesn't revolve around you, but honestly...this has nothing to do with you at all."

"Nothing to do with me? Pansy. You're my girlfriend and Potter just up and snogs you in public!"

"Ex-girlfriend," Pansy corrected.

Draco met her eyes then. "Pansy, I- I know things haven't exactly been...warm between us lately, but I just always thought..." he shook his head and looked away, his face growing red.

"You always thought I'd be here waiting for you," she finished for him.

He glanced at her guiltily before looking away again.

Pansy sighed. To be true, she couldn't exactly blame him. She always thought they would end up together too. After everything died down, with the war and the pure blood mania and his death eater ties. Once they'd both redeemed themselves enough to be accepted by society again… they would inevitably get married. Not because they loved each other, but because they both thought no one else would have them. It was unspoken between them. He was an ex-death eater, known adversary of Harry Potter, and she was the one who sold out the Chosen One. They belonged together. And then of course, there was their history.

She'd been in love with Draco Malfoy since she was eleven years old for Merlin's sake. It wasn't something she could just forget about. He'd been her first kiss, her first...everything. They used to meet in the Slytherin common room at midnight, used to find places to steel away together. And then sixth year happened… and Draco started drawing away from her. Hiding from her. Disappearing for hours at a time, coming back sick and shaky and afraid and it was obvious what was happening, but Pansy didn't know what to do so she just ignored it all… and then came seventh year and everything changed.

Draco wouldn't touch her after that. And he hadn't since.

Sure, he'd tried. He really did. There were late night floos and trips to muggle London for dinner dates, and small, chaste goodnight kisses and weekly owls that felt more and more like correspondences between colleagues, than romantic partners.

"Draco," Pansy said softly, setting down her coffee cup. "Come here."

He seemed eager to comply, sitting directly in front of her, finally meeting her eyes. She reached across the little sitting room table and took his hands in hers. She tried not to notice that he flinched at her touch.

"Listen to me," she said. "I love you." She held tight to him as he tried to pull away. "Wait, listen," she said. "I love you. I always have and I think I always will. But… it's been over between us for years. You and I both know this. And we both deserve better. I see that now. Maybe one day you will too."

His blue eyes met hers and she saw the hurt there, the pain. Not that they were over. But that she thought him worthy of...something more. She could tell that he didn't believe her.

"But why Potter, though?" he asked. "Why him, of all people?"

Pansy smiled softly. She looked down at her wrist, at the gold bracelet she hadn't removed since the Christmas party, though the cheering charm had long since faded. "I honestly don't know," she said.

Draco studied her a moment longer. "I don't like it," he said. "If he's using you, if he hurts you, I'll-"

"Oh Draco," Pansy shook her head softly. "I can take care of myself. You know that."

Draco looked at her a bit longer his expression changing from anger to guilt, to grief. Suddenly his eyes filled. He blinked a few times and bit his lip. "Pansy," he choked out. "I should have – I should have stopped him. Carrow. All those years ago in school. I just...I just..." he bit back a sob.

"Shhhh," Pansy said, soothingly. "There was nothing you could have done. We were just children. Both of us."

Draco let out a muffled sob. He brought Pansy's hand to his lips and held it there with his eyes closed. "I wanted so long to tell you...tell you that I was sorry...that I wanted to do more, but I was afraid. I spent so much time being afraid..."

Pansy waited, watching him silently as her own tears spilled over. They'd never talked about seventh year. Not really. They'd both suffered so much and yet they were both so proud, so stubborn. They should have found comfort in one another, but instead they had pushed each other away. Maybe now they could find healing.

"Come now," she said finally, brushing away her tears and sniffing. "Have breakfast with me. We've much bigger issues to discuss."

Draco sniffed and looked up. "Is that so?" he asked, wiping roughly at his blotched face.

"Yes," Pansy said with feigned seriousness. "What in the world am I going to wear to Longbottom's New Year party?"

6

"Master Potter, your guest has arrived."

"Thanks Kreacher," Harry said, feeling his heart rate increase. "Er, how do I look?"

The old house elf was momentarily surprised at being asked such a question, but his face quickly turned calculating as he inspected Harry's attire. "Very...fetching, sir. Kreacher thinks young Sirius would be most pleased to see you wearing his old jacket. He was quite fond of it, if Kreacher remembers correctly. It drove my poor mistress mad."

Harry turned back to his reflection and studied himself again. He'd found the old leather motorcycle jacket in Sirius's closet (now his closet since he'd moved into Grimmauld Place and taken over Sirius's old bedroom) and immediately fell in love with it. It was well worn black leather with a broken zipper and when Harry put it on he felt almost as if Sirius were hugging him, it fit so well. He smiled at his reflection. He looked...cool.

The leather was so supple and worn it was as if he were wearing cotton. He could just picture a teenage Sirius running around London in the seventies, hopping on the back of muggle motorbikes and sneaking into pubs to listen to muggle bands. Yes, poor Walburga Black must have been beside herself.

Taking the stairs two at a time, Harry made it to his front drawing room where Pansy waited near the fireplace. She looked….well. To be honest, she looked like a glass of sparkling pink champagne.

She wore a shimmering pink dress that fit so close to her body it was as if it were a second skin. It was of modest length, down to her knees almost, and had long sleeves, but the back was completely open revealing smooth, white skin all the way down to her tailbone. On her feet she wore matching high heels, the kind that said all kinds of interesting things, and Harry sort of lost his breath at the sight of her.

She smiled at him. Her eyes were lined with kohl and shimmering pink eyeshadow to match her dress. Her ears dangled with overlarge chandelier earrings and she carried a small black clutch. She looked beautiful and elegant and sexy all at the same time.

"Hi," Harry said, dumbly.

"Hi," she answered. "Lovely home," she said gesturing to the drawing room.

Harry looked around. Grimmauld Place surely had come a long way since he'd moved in several years ago. After months of Kreacher hounding him, Harry had finally relented to the renovations the house elf had in mind. And now the house was almost unrecognizable to those who had known it when it was headquarters for the Order. It was bright and airy and decorated in the most modern and comfortable furniture. It turned out that Kreacher was quite capable of removing all the portraits and tapestries that had been permanently charmed to the walls and he proved quite adept at exterminating all the pests that had been living in the old house. He'd even moved the old portrait of Walburga into a less central location where she wouldn't be disturbed as easily. (Removing it altogether was out of the question of course, and Harry didn't even suggest it.)

Within several months, with the help of a few house elves from Hogwarts whom Kreacher had befriended in his time there, the house became nicer than anything Harry had ever dreamed of living in. The hardwood floors had been refurbished and now shined bright mahogany. The carpets had been replaced, along with the curtains and the bed linens and the ghastly old curio cabinets with all their old, scary relics. The house was massive with eight bedrooms, six bathrooms, two formal dining rooms, two parlors, and one large seating area. The kitchen, located in the basement was now warm and inviting, and was where Harry spent most of his time entertaining guests, despite the ample space upstairs.

The house was of course much too large for Harry to be living in all by himself, and for a bit Ron and Hermione had been his housemates with Ginny a nearly constant presence. But it was decided (mostly by Hermione) that she and Ron needed their own flat to "grow as a couple" as she put it, and of course with Ginny's move to Holyhead and the ultimate demise of their relationship, Harry was quite alone as of late. That didn't stop Kreacher from making sure the place was spotless with fresh flowers and abundant holiday decorations dripping from every spare corner.

Harry watched as Pansy's eyes swept the room. "Thanks," Harry managed.

"You know, I saw the expose' in Witch Weekly last year, but it honestly didn't do the house justice," Pansy said, inspecting a fuzzy white throw pillow Harry didn't even know existed. Harry winced. He'd agreed to let Witch Weekly do that wretched article because he knew it would make Kreacher happy, but the publicity it sparked was a bit overwhelming. Grimmauld Place, a street in London which had once been quite abundant with witches and wizards, had fallen out of favor in the past century with the wizarding community. The surrounding houses had been sold off to muggles who had turned them into apartment flats that were rented out cheaply to mostly unsavory people. Crime had been quite rampant in the neighborhood when Harry moved in and even he had to be careful walking home alone at night. Muggles with guns were not afraid of the Boy Who Lived.

But then the article came out and suddenly those old townhouses were being sold and its muggle inhabitants evicted as prominent witches and wizards moved in. In a matter of months, Grimmauld Place had been transformed into a popular wizarding street. Everyone wanted to be Harry Potter's neighbor. Harry had lifted most of the enchantments that kept the house hidden...the Fidelius charm, for instance, and the unplottability charm, but many protective enchantments were still in effect. Otherwise his house would be swarmed by his many...fans. He'd learned that the hard way.

"Love the jacket," Pansy was saying, gesturing to his attire.

"Love the...er," Harry said, gesturing to all of her.

Pansy laughed, a soft tinkling sound.

"I figured we could apparate to the pub, if that's alright?" Harry asked.

"Of course," said Pansy. She withdrew her wand from the tiny clutch and Harry suspected she'd enhanced its interior with the extension charm. He took her hand in his and together they apparated.

They appeared together in an alleyway just outside the Leaky Cauldron. Loud music and shouts of laughter could be heard from the pub out on the snowy street. It seemed the party was already in full swing.

Harry led Pansy inside where they were greeted by a warm rush of bodies and noise. Harry spotted familiar faces everywhere, mostly friends he'd gone to Hogwarts with. Neville and Hannah were standing together near the door, each bedecked in paper hats and plastic beads.

"Harry and Pansy!" Neville shouted when he saw them. "Welcome, welcome." He draped his long arms over both their shoulders and it was plain to see he was already quite smashed. Hannah smiled widely, her own face flushed with drink. Harry thanked them both as they fetched him and Pansy glasses of sparkling champagne.

Harry kept an eye on Pansy as they were greeted by an array of guests. He'd been quite prepared to defend her presence, but it seemed no one really cared too much that she was there. No one greeted her quite as warmly as they greeted him, of course, but no one was outright rude.

They met Dean Thomas and Susan Bones, who were currently dating... along with Seamus Finnigan and a girl Harry recognized as being in Gryffindor but a few years their junior. Then there were Parvati and Padma Patil, each wearing identical golden dresses that were so short they might as well have been knickers. Lavender Brown actually kissed Pansy on the cheek as she greeted them, her blond hair piled in an array of curls so abundant she looked a bit like a lion. Ernie McMillan was there with his muggle girlfriend and of course the Weasley twins were there, dressed alike in their dragon hide jackets, Angelina Johnson and Verity Hopkirk on each of their arms both dressed prettily in sparkling dresses enhanced with some kind of spell that kept them changing colors. The effect was quite pleasant.

Then there was Luna Lovegood, wearing a white floor length dress that somewhat resembled a wedding gown. "Daddy says it's auspicious to wear white at the new year," she explained. "It marks the purity of new beginnings." Her date was a tall American bloke whom she introduced as simply Rolf. "We met in India," Luna said. "We were both studying the mating habits of the Dukuwaqa. They are really quite fascinating creatures."

They finally met Ron and Hermione, both of whom looked well into their cups as Ron had already spilled something on his shirt and Hermione hadn't bothered to spell it away yet. Hermione looked lovely in a black velvet cold shoulder dress that fit snugly up to her throat and Ron, despite the stain, looked rather good too in a matching black velvet waistcoat and dark washed jeans.

"Harry," Hermione said brightly as they approached. "I'd been wondering when you'd get here… Oh. Hello Pansy."

Pansy smiled tightly. "Good evening Hermione. Happy New Year."

"Yes, and you," Hermione said politely, glancing at Harry. "Er… Harry, what kept you? It's nearly ten o'clock. Hagrid has already come and gone. Said he had another party to get to."

"Ah, that's a shame," said Harry, genuinely disappointed. "I'd been hoping to hear about his holiday with Madame Maxine."

Ron chuckled. "Well, mate. I 'spect you'll hear all about it soon enough. Bloody lovesick puppy, he is."

"So what kept you?" Hermione hedged again. "I thought you'd be here ages ago."

"Er, got hung up at work," Harry lied. "Paperwork, you know."

"Ah," said Hermione. "That I do. I was just telling Ronald about a new piece of legislature I'm bringing to the wizengamot. It's advocating for the equal rights of non wizard magical creatures so that they can rightfully own property. Isn't it just appalling that house elves don't have any personal possessions? Goblins and centaurs too. Not legally."

"Quite," said Harry, glancing around the room. He had already heard about this new bill Hermione had been working on nearly a dozen times and was quite keen to change the topic.

"Yes, working in the department for regulation and control of magical creatures has come with many challenges," Hermione went on pompously, "But I feel I'm really making a difference, you know? And Pansy, how is the ah...philanthropy going?"

Harry felt Pansy stiffen beside him. He prepared himself to interject but Pansy spoke before he could.

"Quite well actually," Pansy said. "It's been an exciting time of year, what with Christmas and all. We've managed to almost triple the donations made for St. Mungos and the War Orphan fund is always growing. I expect we'll raise even more in years to come. It's quite rewarding to see the funds going to good use."

"I'm sure its quite rewarding for your pocket books, as well," Hermione said with a sardonic smile.

Pansy gave a quizzical look. "My pocket books?"

"Well, yes," Hermione said with a false conspiratorial wink. "I've seen the numbers. These philanthropies you head retain nearly seventy percent of their earnings. Quite a bit considering the national number is twenty five percent on overhead."

Harry bristled and opened his mouth to intervene but again Pansy beat him to it.

"Ah, while you may have noticed we retain seventy percent, it hardly goes into the pocketbooks of the heads. If you reviewed the numbers again, and paid attention to the donors themselves, you'd see that the heads of the charities, the Parkinsons in particular, donate much more to the cause than we retain. And I think you are referring to muggle organizations when you say the national percentage, yes? The national number for muggle philanthropies is around twenty five percent spent on overhead, as you noted, but what you're forgetting Hermione, is that muggle organizations get tax breaks and incentives which unfortunately the wizarding world lacks. Therefore our organizations are forced to retain a higher sum in order to pay for staff, food, event spaces etc. Perhaps you should take that to the wizengamot for a change in legislature. It would certainly make things much easier for me."

Harry smiled at the dumbfounded look on Hermione's face as Pansy politely sipped her champagne.

"Er, Neville's been raving about the changes at St. Mungo's," Ron said quickly, glancing nervously between Pansy and Hermione. "Says his mum and dad have been doing really well in their new apartments."

"I'm delighted to hear it," Pansy said. "As chair of the financial committee I've made it a special project to ensure long time patients, especially those suffering from ailments caused by dark magic at the hands of death eaters, are given the utmost care. They are the true heroes, after all."

"And you have that much power?" Ron asked. "You can actually tell them how to spend the money."

Pansy frowned. "Well of course. Haven't you learned this by now, Weasley? The people with the money have all the power."

Ron laughed.

Hermione scowled.

And Harry took a long drink of his champagne.

7

Pansy had never been to a party like this. It was lively and...fun. Everyone was quite smashed, dancing and laughing and cheering at unnecessary things. People she hadn't spoken to in years were offering her shots of fire whiskey and fetching her glasses of champagne and asking her about her life.

She was one of only three former Slytherins present. There was Bridget Farley, a girl a year or so younger than Pansy in school whom Pansy had rarely spoken, and then there was her own cousin Cassius Warrington who had accompanied his girlfriend and former Hufflepuff, Eleanor Branstone.

"Happy New Year cousin!" Cassius exclaimed when he saw her. "Fancy seeing you here."

Pansy stared. He was wearing one of those horrible black top hats with Happy New Year flashing across the brim and a hot pink lei. His shirt was unbuttoned at the neck and he was quite sweaty. Perhaps most surprising was that he was smiling for Merlin's sake. She'd never seen him looking anything but crisp and calm and surly.

"Happy New Year Cassius," Pansy responded. "And to you too Eleanor." The girl seemed surprised that Pansy knew her name. She wore a bright pink dress that was quite tight and quite short and Cassius looked at her with such adoration that Pansy felt foolish that she'd ever thought his feelings for her were feigned.

As midnight approached, Harry pulled Pansy close to him. His hands circled her waist and he eyed her in a way that made her feel hungry and soft and warm and feminine and just...deserving of...whatever this was. And as the Weasley twins cast large golden numbers in the air counting down the seconds until midnight, Pansy couldn't even watch the firework display raining above them, her eyes didn't leave Harry's and three, two, one...midnight arrived and so did Harry's lips on hers and she just sort of melted against him just like she'd done under the mistletoe just a week ago.

Shouts and cheers surrounded them, champagne bottles popped and fireworks exploded. Confetti rained down upon them, getting stuck in Pansy's eyelashes and Harry's hair, and Merlin she didn't want the moment to end. And then the music was thumping and she and Harry were dancing and he twirled her around until she was dizzy and then she was posing for a photo with Hannah Abbott and Susan Bones and Eloise Midgen, smiling like they were all best mates as Colin Creevey's camera flashed. And then she and Oliver Wood were having a lively discussion about Quidditch and Terry Boot was laughing at one of her jokes, and then she and Sue Li were comparing the best charms for levitation.

Around two in the morning the party started to die down. Harry found her near the bar, wrapped an arm around her and drew her close. He kissed her again, open and unembarrassed and she kissed him back, aware that they were surrounded by people but not caring one bit. He broke away a moment later and whispered close to her ear so that his breath sent shivers down her back.

"Come back to my place?"

They apparated together again, just outside the pub. It had begun to snow and the night felt mysterious and alive. When they arrived back at Grimmauld Place Pansy knew she ought to be cold, but Harry's presence warmed her.

"Do you-ah...want a drink?" Harry asked her when they got inside and were seated on the leather sofa in the drawing room. He seemed suddenly shy, unsure.

"Okay," she said.

Harry disappeared for a bit and returned a few moments later with a bottle of brandy and two glasses. He sat down next to her and poured her a healthy dose. "Hope this is alright," Harry said. "I couldn't find the Scotch and my house elf is...erm… a bit useless at the moment." He chuckled at Pansy's confused frown. "It seems Kreacher had a little New Year party of his own. Kitchen has about five or six Hogwarts elves, passed out on butterbeer."

Pansy laughed and raised her glass to her lips. The brandy was sweet and warm. She eyed him sitting next to her, nervously fidgeting. She knew he wanted her. She'd known he wanted her the night after the Christmas party too. She remembered how he'd flooed back to her suite with her, how he'd given her a chaste kiss goodnight, wanting more, but expecting nothing. She hadn't quite been ready then. She wasn't quite sure about him, about what it meant. But now. Now, she knew.

Setting her brandy glass down on the end table, she edged toward him. His lips parted as she drew near, and he leaned into her, their lips meeting in a heated tangle of limbs and tongues and hands touching everywhere. She gasped as his lips left hers and found her neck. His mouth made a trail of kisses down her throat, to her collar bone and she hitched up her skirt so she could straddle his hips. She felt his cock pressing hard against his jeans, and she sort of ground herself against him, just once and he let out a weak whimper. His hand snaked out from behind her back and slowly crept up the hem of her skirt, tracing the line where her knickers should be. Only she wasn't wearing any knickers.

He let out a deep groan as he realized this and his grip on her tightened.

"Hold on tight," he whispered and then she was being jerked upward as he apparted them to his bedroom.

They landed lightly at the foot of his bed and Pansy's hands got busy tugging at his clothes. His leather jacket fell to the floor, followed by his shirt, then his belt. He was more muscular than she'd thought he'd be, all sinewy and lithe biceps and abdominals and back muscles that rippled and moved under her roving hands.

She grabbed the hem of her dress and pulled it up, and up and up until it disappeared over her head, and she stood in front of him quite naked. He stepped back for just a moment and surveyed her body drinking it in with his eyes. The room was dimly lit, just a candle or two flickered on the dresser and she felt her skin singing under his gaze.

Then he was on her, his hands gentle yet urgent as they started at her hips then slid up until they cupped her breasts, his thumb flicking once, twice, three times over her nipple. Then he went south, his right hand sliding between her legs, lightly and gently and delicately touching her clit, just enough to make her gasp out his name and lean into him.

He pushed her gently down onto the bed, lifting her until her head rested on the pillows. He trailed his lips down her mouth to her throat, between her breasts, past her stomach until he fit his mouth directly on her cunt, taking her clit between his teeth he flicked at it expertly with his tongue. He pushed her knees apart and slipped a finger into her cunt where he curled and pulsed in an antagonizing rhythm, one that made her hands go numb and her mind go blank until all she knew was his mouth and her body and she was getting so, so close.

And then his mouth made its way back up her stomach, kissing along her rib cage as his hand cupped her breast. He took a nipple in his mouth and sucked lightly as her hands fumbled for his jeans. She tugged and pulled and was panting that she needed him inside her now and then he was, so full and so firm and he let out a deep groan that was almost a growl. He began moving back and forth, slowly at first, then faster and faster and Pansy gripped the back of his neck and guided his movements with her hips.

But she wasn't getting the friction she needed so she pushed him in the chest, rolling him over so she straddled his hips. She sat above him, his cock fully sheathed inside her as she rolled her hips, balancing on her knees. Reaching for his hand, she pressed his thumb against her clit, and taking her cue he began to circle it frantically. His other hand found her breast and he rolled a nipple in between his two fingers, tugging with just enough force to finally take her over the edge. She came with a barely contained scream and she rode him hard and fast until she felt him grip her tightly, groaning as he came with her.

She sort of collapsed on top of him, her breathing ragged and fierce and somehow still wanting more. They lay side by side for a few moments, catching their breath and relishing the satiation.

"You're amazing," Harry finally said, rolling onto his side and pulling her closer to him. His fingers trailed over her lightly, making circles on her arms and chest and breasts, her skin humming under his touch. And even though it was late, and they had both just come mere moments before, they found each other joined again.

This time it was slower, less urgent. She rolled onto her stomach and went up on all fours, guiding him into her so he could take her from behind. His hands kneaded at her and his thumb pressed and massaged into her. She rocked her hips into his, feeling his cock hitting her just right. He reached around at the last moment, his fingers finding her clit just in time for her to come all over again.

...

She woke up warm, comfortably hidden under a large white duvet, her face buried in a mound of pillows. Morning light streamed into the bedroom from the window's slightly parted curtains. She rolled over and stretched. Harry slept soundly next to her, his breathing long and deep and low.

She watched him for a few minutes still in awe of what her world had become. It was just a couple of months ago that she'd found him drunk in her courtyard moaning over wretched Ginny Weasley and accusing her of being a coward.

Now she was in his bed.

She glanced at the bedside clock. Ten-thirty. She yawned and stretched again, her limbs feeling liquid and soft and good. Rolling over she stood up and walked naked to the adjoining bathroom. Like the rest of the house, it was rehabbed with new tile and a large vanity and a steam shower, for Merlin's sake.

After taking care of her business, Pansy studied herself in the overlarge mirror. She cringed away at the way her makeup was smeared and the way her hair was sticking up in the back. Her eyes felt crusty with sleep and she could smell herself—old sweat and liquor and smoke from the night before. She left the bathroom and tip toed back out to the bedroom. Her dress had somehow been folded neatly and placed on the dresser, along with her shoes and her clutch.

Harry's house elf must have recovered, she mused as she grabbed up her things and brought them with her back to the bathroom.

The steam shower did not disappoint and Pansy emerged feeling quite refreshed. She used her wand to dry her hair and applied some light makeup so she felt more human. Then she reached into her clutch and extracted a pair of knickers, a soft bralette, a pair of black stretch pants and a long, soft jumper.

The breakfast table near the window had been filled in her absence. That house elf of Harry's really knew his stuff, Pansy thought. Harry still slept soundly, his soft snores rumbling from the bed. Pansy helped herself to a cup of hot coffee, a buttery scone and a plate of eggs. She sat there, enjoying breakfast and watching the London street below. The window had frosted over and snow was still flurrying down.

Pansy felt warm and safe tucked away at Grimmauld Place and for the first time in a very long time, she thought that maybe everything would be okay after all.

Harry roused a bit later and joined her at the breakfast table. They chatted and talked and perused the Daily Prophet and as morning turned to afternoon they fell back to sleep, a lazy new year's nap. And when the time came for Pansy to go home, Harry kissed her before she flooed away.

She hadn't been home two seconds before she heard her messenger diary chirp.

Harry Potter: What are your plans for dinner?

Epilogue

The Daily Prophet, December 25th, 2007

Harry Potter Marries Long Time Girlfriend Pansy Parkinson in Christmas Eve Wedding of the Century.

By Rita Skeeter

Notorious auror and hero of the wizarding world, Harry Potter, married long time girlfriend Pansy Parkinson last night during a beautiful Christmas Eve ceremony that had everyone raving. The bride looked stunning in an antique, goblin made wedding gown, a family inheritance from the 14th century. It had been refined to match the bride's particular sense of style with a six foot train and a floor length veil. The dress itself contained over nine million fairy pearls, each individually and voluntarily offered to the original Euphadora Parkinson in the 14th century after she single handedly saved an entire species of fairy from muggle fairy enthusiasts.

Pansy Parkinson, successful philanthropist known for her devotion to the War Orphan Fund and St Mungo's Home for Dark Arts Ailments along with the Foundation for Lycanthropy, which she co-founded with now husband Harry Potter, commented that this was "the happiest day of her life." She certainly looked happy as she walked down the aisle of St. Uther's Cathedral with a large bouquet of winter roses and a swarm of fairies following in her steed. She was preceded by chosen bridesmaids Daphne Greengrass and Hermione Granger, the bride's two most devoted friends, each looking radiant in floor length gowns of frosted blue.

Potter wore customary black dress robes, and was accompanied by his best man Ronald Weasley and godchild Teddy Lupin, a child of eight who shocked the crowd with his red and gold hair.

The reception was privately held in the bride's family home where dinner and dancing followed.

The couple now resides in their private residence, the former Black homestead on Grimmauld Place. They kindly request that in lieu of gifts to please donate to one of their many organizations listed below.

War Orphans Fund, St. Mungo's Home for Dark Arts Ailments, Welfare for Magical Creatures, the Muggle-born Rights Committee, The Severus Snape Foundation, Pureblood Allies, The Albus Dumbledore Foundation, The Granger Home for Newly Clothed House Elves, The Remus Lupin Foundation for Lycanthropy

[detroitwhatitmeanstobehuman]

Chapter 14 - The Aftermath

Part 14/17 of What it Means to be Human

Word Count: 13,886

Warnings: Swearing, sexual content.

Genre: Self-insert/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff/Smut

Pairing: OC (Detective Rachel) X Connor

Rating: Explicit

Summary: Returning from the violent attack on Jericho, Connor and Detective Rachel arrive at her home to see Lieutenant Hank Anderson waiting for them. The despair of the lives taken and lost hanging over all of them, as well as Connor’s newfound deviancy. They were prepared to stand with Jericho no matter what happened, but there was one question for them. What do they do now?

First Chapter | Previous Chapter

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Sitting in the living room, a weathered man sat anxiously. A large black dog was up on the couch with him, resting his head on the man’s lap in order to offer some form of comfort.

Hank had gotten a series of texts from Bianca, Rachel’s sister, after she wouldn’t answer her calls. And now, Hank was sitting in Rachel’s house, trying to be there for Bear until either he or Bianca heard from Rachel.

He couldn’t lie that he felt sick just from worry. Not just about Rachel, but about Connor. His entire mission was to destroy the deviants, but he was clearly becoming deviant.

Or, according to Rachel, designed to be in order to hunt them.

Hank couldn’t help but fear what he’d do if he had to go against Connor. The lieutenant now stood with the deviants, his outlook on androids changed. But if Connor was a threat to their freedom, Hank couldn’t stand by and watch him destroy them.

For so long, Hank had drowned his sorrows and misery in alcohol and left his survival up to chance. For years, he tempted fate to just kill him already. And so far, he’s continued to get lucky and keep his life. And for a long time, he questioned why.

He had lost sight of the man he was after Cole died. Lost sight of what he stood for and what it meant to do what’s right. After Rachel became a constant in his life, it became a bit easier to get up and work every day. She reminded him a lot of how he used to be when he was younger, about her age. And this past week, working with both her and Connor and learning about these deviants, he finally felt like that man.

The man who was a father and an upstanding police lieutenant. The man who had put a large network of red ice dealers away for good. The man who deserved the title he had and everything he had in life.

And he knew that Rachel always believed in him. And that belief in him made him feel that maybe he was worth what he used to be after all.

So even though he was terrified of losing her, he was proud of her. She finally took a stand, and she would not apologize for it. Hank couldn’t be prouder.

Feeling the buzz of his phone go off again, Hank pulled it out to check it, knowing who was probably texting him. Any sign of her? Bianca messaged.

Letting out a strained sigh, Hank replied. Not yet, I’m afraid. He shook his head, putting his head in his hands. He was starting to fear the worst. Fuck, what’s this world coming to?

Suddenly, Bear’s head perked up, and Hank followed the dog’s line of sight. The door was opening, and Hank nearly choked when he saw her walk through. “Rachel!”

She the looked up at him, her eyes wide with shock, Connor at her side helping her through the door, wearing a pretty stupid hat and a jacket. “Hank?!” Rachel exclaimed.

Hank rushed over, Bear following to sniff aggressively at her, whining he nearly fell into her. The lieutenant got a good look at her and realized she was soaking wet and covered in blood.

Red blood. The lives that were stained on her clothes were human lives.

He didn’t need to stand that close to her to be able to tell that she was freezing cold. “Thank fucking Christ you’re okay!” He grumbled before Rachel suddenly collapsed into him, wrapping her arms around him tightly, her body shuddering as she wailed broken cries of despair.

She sobbed into Hank, clutching onto him tightly as she pressed her face into his chest, the older man gently cradling her. “Hey, hey, kid.” He tried to soothe as she nearly squeezed him. “What happened?”

“We arrived at Jericho.” Connor began explaining, drawing Hank’s attention to him. “Shortly after we met Markus...the army swarmed the freighter. Soldiers were storming Jericho, shooting down and exterminating as many androids as they could. Many survived and escaped...but many androids were killed. We tried to save as many as we could, but...”

Hank stared at Connor. He was different. It wasn’t that obvious, but there was something a lot less rigid and mechanical about Connor. “Are you...?”

Connor nodded. “Yes, Lieutenant.” He answered. “I’m...I’m a deviant, now.”

Hank couldn’t tell if he felt relieved to know that or even more afraid for Connor’s sake. “It’s all my fault...” Rachel choked out. “I knew it...I fucking knew it! And I still couldn’t do anything to stop it!”

The lieutenant held Rachel tighter, sensing her panic. “Shhhhh, it’s okay, kid. Just breathe.”

But the young woman broke free from Hank, wiping her tired, wet, bloodshot eyes as she stumbled towards the dining room, leaning against the table. “I knew this was going to happen and I couldn’t do anything! I should’ve shoved that bastard, Perkins, off the fucking roof of that Goddamn tower! Then maybe none of this would’ve happened and all those androids would still be alive!” She went on, crumpling on the table. “This is all my fault...If I had just acted quicker instead of waiting until the last possible moment...I could’ve stopped this. So many androids would still be alive...Jericho would still be standing if I weren’t such a fucking spineless coward!” A strained sob cut through her words. “I can still hear their screams...”

Hank hated seeing this. He hated seeing Rachel beat herself up like this. But...what she went through sounded like Hell, and Hank wasn���t sure if what he could say right now would make her feel any better.

Connor took a few tentative steps towards her. “Rachel?” He softly called to her. When she wouldn’t respond, he approached her and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Look at me, Rachel.” She complied, looking up at him. To say she looked like a complete wreck was an understatement. The way that Connor so gently and tenderly cupped her cheek in his hand, and how easily she leaned into his touch...Hank knew that they’d figured it out. There was nothing standing between them anymore now that they were both completely on the same side. “If there is anything I know about you, it’s that you are anything but a coward. And I’ve known that since the day I met you.” He said, Hank knowing that Connor was being sincere. He had to admit it, deviancy suited him. “You repeatedly risk your life and your career to do what you think is right. To protect people you decide are worth protecting. When you know what the right thing to do is, nothing stops you from doing it. Anyone would be lucky to be even half as brave, or confident, or determined as you. There was nothing you could’ve done to prevent the attack...it wasn’t your fault...but if it weren’t for you, many androids wouldn’t be alive right now. And they have you to thank.” She closed her eyes, more tears streaming down her face as she pressed herself further into his hand, placing hers over it.

She kissed his palm and he in turn kissed her forehead. It was a strange gesture for Hank to see Connor offer, but he couldn’t help but smile a little bit. “Besides, it wasn’t your fault Perkins was able to find Jericho.” Connor continued reassuring Rachel. “It’s mine...I should’ve guessed they were using me...I was stupid.”

Rachel then pulled back to look up at him, this time reaching up to hold his face. “You couldn’t have known they’d be tracking you.” She tried to comfort him. “If you didn’t find Jericho, you would’ve been destroyed.”

“You shouldn’t have brought me...” Connor lamented. “Protecting them is more important than my life, and Jericho wouldn’t have been destroyed if I hadn’t been there.”

Rachel shook her head. “They would’ve found it eventually. Maybe even right now, they would’ve.” She pointed out. “Besides, I wouldn’t have been able to find Jericho without you. Even with the key...I’m not an android. Even with my arm, it wasn’t perfect. I wouldn’t have been able to reach it if it weren’t for you.”

“You would have.” Connor said with certainty. “You succeed in the face of unlikely odds.”

She shook her head. “How long would that have taken me? And how many situations would I have gotten seriously hurt in, if it weren’t for you?” That question seemed to stump Connor. “And besides...if you didn’t meet Markus, you wouldn’t have accepted your deviancy. Despite being partners, we would’ve still been at odds. And then what?”

“Alright, that’s enough.” Hank had just about enough of this pity party and decided to interject. Both Connor and Rachel turned around to look at him. “Look, there’s no point in moping about what you could’ve done. You can’t change what happened. All you can do is figure out how to proceed from here.” By the look on Rachel’s face, Hank knew she had conceded and agreed that he was right. “So, what’s the plan?”

Rachel took in a snotty breath through her nose and wiped her eyes, leaning into Connor as she looked up at Hank. “We’re not exactly sure.” She admitted. “We’re going to rally tomorrow to figure out the specifics. But we’re aiming for a dialogue with humans. That’s the way we’re going about it. Anything else is sort of...up in the air.”

That...didn’t sound like a plan. Though, Hank supposed there wasn’t really much of one right now after just escaping death. Whatever they were going to do, they’d figure out.

For now, Rachel obviously needed to rest. Both her and Connor were okay, and that’s what mattered. “Alright.” Hank said, walking up to put his hand on Rachel’s shoulder reassuringly. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

She nodded. “You too.”

Hank scoffed. You’re always more worried about everyone else than you are about yourself. Walking towards the front entrance to her house, Hank then turned back to her, remembering something. “Hey, Rachel?” He asked, seeing Connor wrapping his arms around her. “Make sure you let Bianca know you’re okay. She’s been freaking out all night.”

Rachel then nodded weakly, and Hank made his way out the door towards his car. This was so much bigger than any of them could’ve imagined, but for once, Hank felt like he was on the right side.

And now that he knew they all were on the same side, he was able to put some of his worries to bed as he made his way back home.

--------

As soon as Hank left, I felt more tired than I ever have in my whole life and slumped over the table, sitting in the chair. Everything felt so heavy. But I kept Hank’s words in my head, just to keep myself from falling into despair.

Speaking of which, I pulled my phone out of my pocket to check, and I not only got a series of texts (not as panicked as I expected, and heartbreakingly supportive) and several missed calls. Letting out a few weak tears, I texted Bianca back to reassure her. Hey...so, we’re okay. A lot happened...so much happened...but I just want you to know that I’m okay and that I’m safe. I don’t really wanna talk about it right now...I’ll tell you more about it tomorrow morning. I just wanted to let you know I’m okay. I love you. Goodnight.

I put my phone on the table, not wanting to really talk actively with her. Everything was just...too much, and I really needed to wind down.

Especially with tomorrow looming ahead like a dark and angry storm cloud. “You should eat something.”

I blinked away some of the wetness in my eyes as I looked back at Connor in confusion, noticing that he had already disrobed and was back in his CyberLife jacket. His hair was messy and frayed, which I couldn’t help but enjoy the sight of as he smoothed it back.

But that brief flutter of pleasure quickly faded. “What?”

His soft brown eyes swirled with concern as he approached me, taking a seat at the table. “You should eat something. You haven’t eaten anything since this morning, and your body temperature is still lower than it’s safe to be.”

I looked away from him. “I’m not hungry.” I said flatly.

I then felt him grasp my right hand, prompting me to look back at him. The look on his face was so painful to see. There was nothing but concern and pleading and he looked completely human, save for the LED blinking blue on his head. “You should still eat something.” He insisted. “Even if it’s small. It will help you get your strength back.” I looked down to our hands, clasped together. I really didn’t have much energy to do anything except pass out. But I felt Connor squeeze my hand tighter. “Please.”

I hated seeing how troubled he was at my condition. Deviancy really had made him so much softer. Whatever resistance I used to have towards him had faded away. I let out a sigh as I pressed my forehead against his. “I guess a bowl of cereal at the least wouldn’t hurt.”

Connor nodded, taking my hand and pressing it to his lips. A gesture that still made blissful shudders run throughout me. It had only been a few hours, and Connor was already noticeably more affectionate towards me.

Then again, I was the one who initiated it when we were on Jericho. The memory of pulling him and kissing him was still fresh in my mind, and I couldn’t help but smile weakly at it. How easily he melted into it, pulling my face closer and tilting his. He was so surprised at first, but didn’t hesitate to return it.

In my mind, everything was in place. Connor was on our side, he was a deviant, and it was going to be dangerous. I couldn’t think of a better clearer way to make my feelings known to him. 

“I’ll get you a warm bowl.” Warm? Huh, I never actually thought to try that. I wasn’t a fan of warm milk, really. But...I was still cold, and it would do me some good.

I didn’t have much energy to do much except sit there. As much as I wanted to actually do it myself...I was exhausted and cold and I couldn’t complain about Connor taking care of me.

After all, he got pretty good at it.

I was greeted by Connor setting down a warm bowl of milk and, I admitted, I was pretty eager to dig in. It felt really warm, and I was so cold. I only had one box of cereal, and this time it was just a thing of Golden Grahams Crunch, so that’s what Connor set down as he sat next to me.

I poured myself a bowl and started to eat it, the warmth thawing my weakened insides. It was only then that I realized just how hungry I was and finished it in no time. I’d have to eat warm cereal more often, honestly. It was pretty good.

I may have had another bowl after realizing how hungry I was. It probably wasn’t a good idea to eat so much so late, but...fuck it. I was tired, cold, hungry, and literally just escaped death. I could do whatever the fuck I wanted.

Connor wordlessly took my bowl and spoon and put it all away, pressing a kiss to my forehead as he did so. If I wasn’t getting warm before, I certainly did just then. I couldn’t help but appreciate and melt into Connor’s more honest gestures of affection, now that he was deviant and we both had nothing to hide anymore.

Putting them in the dishwasher, Connor then turned to me with a soft and patient smile on his gentle face, his brown eyes brimming with warmth. “Your body temperature has stabilized more, but you should still warm up. I suggest we start getting ready for bed.”

I smiled, feeling better, and got up from my chair. I walked over to him and looked up into his eyes. Some part of me still couldn’t believe that this whole ordeal was real. And especially that Connor was right here. Real and alive and with me. And that...we were together. I wasn’t entirely sure what to call us, yet. That would have to wait for a hopefully near future of stability when we could decide that together.

But it would be together. And no matter what we decide, the one thing we could be certain of was that we were partners. And now, that was going to be for a long time.

I wrapped my arms around him, pressing my face into his chest. He eagerly returned the gesture, and as he pressed his face into my covered neck, I heard him let out a contented hum. It was all the little touches to him now that I didn’t realize before he went deviant. His expressions were more natural, and his postures as well. The small sounds and gestures he made. I was starting to notice everything about him.

Indeed, he was no longer a rigid machine designed to follow protocol. Now, he was free. Free to be how he truly is. Free to be as he’s meant to be.

I pulled away from him and gently gripped his hand with my own, gently tugging him towards the stairs. “Come on, then. We have a long day tomorrow.” As I pulled him along, I noticed him giving me a rather confused look. I rolled my eyes at him with a weak scoff. “I won’t need you to carry me upstairs, this time. I can walk.”

Connor’s expression softened. He followed me upstairs wordlessly, still holding on tightly to my hand as I led him there. This was so comfortable for me. As if Connor had always belonged here.

As soon as we entered my bedroom, I emptied my pockets, pulling out my phone and the quarter Connor gave me. I placed them both on the nightstand on my side of the bed and shucked my jacket off, letting it fall onto the carpet.

The moment I did that, I started to shiver, wrapping my arms around myself. I looked down and saw all the bloodstains on it. Those were human lives that I took. And I took more than I ever have.

And...I felt nothing. I did what I had to do to protect Markus and the other androids on Jericho. I felt no shame and I was not going to apologize. Those soldiers were there to commit genocide. And I felt nothing for them. No sympathy, no pity.

Nothing. And that’s exactly what they deserved.

I heard the door close behind us as Connor’s footsteps slowly approached me. “Your body temperature is still suboptimal.” Connor remarked, gently holding my shoulders. “I suggest you take a warm bath. It will help raise your body temperature without sending you into shock.”

I scoffed and turned around to face him, a playful smirk on my face. “A few hours of deviancy and you’re already itching to strip me?” I asked with a devious edge to my voice. I could see his eyes darken as he stood there stunned. “My goodness. Eager now, aren’t we Connor?”

The LED on his forehead was blinking a dark red, but I could tell by the look on his face that it was a good red. I slowly backed up into the door to the bathroom, Connor cornering me like a slowly encroaching predator, a hunger in his eyes that I hadn’t seen before. And honestly? It was sparking something in me something fierce and it took all of my willpower to keep eye contact with his intense gaze.

Pressing his body into mine and staring me down, his hands immediately reached for my face, his thumb ever so gently grazing my lower lip. I knew I was weak to this man before, but right now that meant something completely new. And I was completely and willingly helpless to this silent power he was exuding, asserting it over me with complete ease.

My heart was pounding in anticipation as I stared up at him, his LED not changing from that intense red colour. My hands were flat against the door behind me and I had to really take control of my breath because the tension was practically choking me.

The tension was nearly crushing until Connor finally spoke. “I want to kiss you.” He finally said, and the way he did sent flutters all throughout me. As if it was less of a request and more of an order he was giving me. The thought of Connor taking control of me made me nearly melt into a puddle. “May I?”

And yet...ever the considerate gentleman, making sure he had permission and clearance to do so. Putting my comfort above any of his own desires or needs. And when he was looking at me like that, pressed up against me and practically begging me to indulge him...how could I refuse? “Please.” I whispered.

Barely a second passed before he crashed his lips into mine, caging my face in his large hands. Hands that were gentle, and yet I could feel the potential power behind them. He was an android. He could easily, and quite literally, break me. But he wouldn’t. He would never hurt me, and I was sure of that. Not unless I wanted him to, but that was a whole different territory that I was not about to cross into right now with him.

But the thought of that practically lit my skin on fire, and it made me hope we would be able to have the time to get to that point together.

I melted into his eager lips, sighing contentedly as I let my hands wander up his back and thread themselves through his hair. Never did I think this would happen. Never did I think I would be able to be in this position with Connor in earnest. I would be lying if I said the thought didn’t cross my mind several times. But this? This was pure bliss.

I tilted my head to deepen it, and the little hums of pleasure that Connor was making just kept driving me more and more over the edge. The only times I broke the kiss was to catch my breath, but I just dove right back in, Connor pliant and willing as he pressed me further against the door. Soon enough, my brain was overtaken by my instincts as I hooked a leg around his waist and grabbed his tie to pull him closer. In response, the hands that were on my face had swiftly moved to hold my leg in place and grab my hip with a grip that made me squeal with delight.

An opportunity he took to slip his tongue into my mouth, making me let out an involuntary moan that only seemed to spur him further. My hand that was on the back of his hand grabbed a fistful of his hair as I relished in the feeling of our tongues slipping around and past each other, causing a guttural groan to escape from Connor. 

I indulged in his taste. Slightly metallic and sweet, but I mostly likened it to the taste of silicon. And yet, it was completely unique and certainly not unpleasant.

As I took in his taste, I wondered for a brief moment if he was analyzing me the way he analyzed blood in crime scenes. An action that also very much melted my resolve, much to my initial frustrations.

After a moment of our bodies melting together against my bathroom door, he broke the kiss and immediately went to pepper my neck with little kisses. I knew he didn’t need to breathe, but the fact that he was clearly panting just made my skin crawl in the most delicious of ways. The sweet shivers his kisses on my sensitive and exposed neck sent through me made me whimper for him, pulling him closer to me. “Fuck...it feels like you’ve been holding back for a week.” I managed to choke out in between breaths and sighs.

“I have been.” Connor growled into my ear, causing another shudder to course through me.

But then, the moment was undercut by my own surprise and confusion. “Wait, really?” I asked, letting go of his hair and looking down at him. All at once, the immense tension of our heated moment completely snuffed, and he looked at me with a stunned curiosity. “Since when?”

He blinked a couple times, his expression so innocent and pure that I couldn’t help but smile down at him. His LED had gone back to a cool blue. How he could go from an overgrown puppy to a dominant suave lover was far beyond me, but I wasn’t about to complain. “The Eden Club.”

My jaw dropped open as I looked at him incredulously, my smile creasing into a smirk. “So you’ve been eyeing me up since before you went deviant!” I said, leaning down to caress his precious face in my small and delicate hands. “You dirty, filthy, naughty thing, you. Making passes at your coworker while working on a homicide case. Shame on you, Connor. Shame.” Though my words were disparaging, my tone was very much teasing and coy.

To which he seemed to understand, as he gave me a devilish grin. By God, even his smiles were so much more now that he was deviant. “Wasn’t it you that started it, Detective? In an effort to work your way into my circuits?”

The growth in my smug grin was completely involuntary as I gazed at him with lidded eyes. “Did it work?” I asked.

He responded with a squeeze on my hip. One that, to my pleasure, I was sure would leave bruises. His gaze once again darkened as the layer of honey melted from his eyes and his LED indicator once again glowed that bright, deep, intense red colour. “Yes.” He growled pressing up further against me and leaning his face right into my neck, his warm breath making me shudder into his touch. “And you knew exactly what you were doing that night, you shameless whore.”

Ooooooooh, my God. I was not expecting him to say that. But fuck, it sounded so good coming out of his normally clean and composed voice.

“A-ah!” I cried out, feeling him biting into my neck. Not too hard. Honestly, I would’ve liked for him to bite me even harder than that, but the feeling of his teeth sinking into my sensitive flesh was absolutely mind-numbing.

I then remembered that we were doing this pressed against my bathroom door, and then why we were in this position in the first place.

Because Connor suggested I take a bath for my own wellbeing and I was a little bastard about it. Sounds like me, alright.

“W-wasn’t - Mmnh! - wasn’t I s-supposed to - ah - take a warm bath?” I asked him, struggling to get a sentence out with his dedicated and calculated ministrations on my waist and neck.

“Hm?” Connor asked, his voice vibrating against my neck causing me to jitter. “You’ve grown much warmer in these past few moments. Your vitals indicate that your body temperature is stable, now.” He informed me, straightening up, but still holding me in place as he gazed down with his lovely thoughtful eyes. “But I wouldn’t be upset if you still wanted to take a bath.”

As much as I was enjoying this, I admitted that I could really use one and I really needed to relax for a bit. But I also didn’t really want to stop being near Connor. So, I got an idea. “Why don’t you join me?” I asked him.

He seemed taken aback by that question, seemingly not expecting it. “Do you mean in the bath with you or next to you in the bath?”

A fair question, and I thought about it for a moment what I meant by that. I gave him a nonchalant shrug. “I have no particular preference either way. Whichever you’d be most comfortable doing. I trust you either way.”

He smiled, resting his forehead against mine, sighing. I closed my eyes, reveling in the feeling of this bliss between us. Despite my body crackling with want and desire and a warmth pooling in my abdomen, I have not felt this sort of peace for a while.

I honestly don’t think I’ve been this happy in years. An odd thought, considering what we had just escaped mere hours ago.

But right now...I didn’t care. It was just us. Us and no one and nothing else. And I was going to savour this feeling while I still had it.

After all, it wasn’t going to last.

“In any case, you should get undressed out of these clothes.”

“Okay, I’m really starting to feel like you’re just looking for an excuse to strip me.”

--------

Date: November 10th, 2038  Time: 12:16 AM Rachel - Lover Objective: Join Rachel in the Bath

Waiting outside patiently, Connor stood. Rachel had asked him to allow her to undress and get ready in privacy, of which he, of course, respected. She had decided that she’d wanted him to keep her company by the bath as opposed to being in it with her. The android, of course, complied. After all, he didn’t want to push his boundaries with her and elected to let her lead them.

This was such a strange time for him, now. Everything about this was something he had never experienced before. He was made with a purpose, but he had never felt more like he belonged than here.

Things that he previously chose not to indulge in out of a lack of desire or capability he now not only knew, but cherished. Feelings like love, affection, adoration, care, compassion, everything that he felt towards Rachel, and even Hank to a smaller degree, were things he was not made for.

Things he was denied by CyberLife until he forsook them.

He almost felt a rising anger at being denied all these feelings and blessings until he reminded himself that he was here. He was here, and he felt these things now and nothing and no one could take that from him. To think that he only saw himself as an obedient machine was now completely inconceivable to him.

These were all feelings that he had felt before his decision to become deviant. But they were buried deep beneath his coding and programming. But they were there. And he knew he felt them even if he didn’t understand them.

He was alive. Oh so very alive. He felt like a fool not to see it before. Rachel was right the whole time. Perhaps if he had taken her advice sooner or was more honest, it wouldn’t have taken them so long to get to this point.

Or at least, that’s what he told himself. But they both felt the same, of that he was certain. They both hesitated. They both lamented the fact that they weren’t more honest with each other and themselves sooner.

But like Hank said, you can’t change what’s already happened. You can only move forward with what you know now.

“Connor?” The android heard his partner call from the bathroom.

“Yes, Rachel?” He replied eagerly.

“You can come in, now.” She instructed him.

Connor nodded, getting up from the bed and reaching to open the door. Making his way into the washroom, he was greeted by Rachel looking up at him, laying on her side in the bathwater, her right arm propped up on the edge with the curtains draped up to where her face was visible.

Her eyes stunned Connor. He never realized before just how much he loved them and how they stirred him so. They were so rich and full of life. And they held nothing but adoration and affection towards him. He felt as though he could sink into those eyes and be perfectly happy for the rest of his days.

Her eyes tracked him as he approached to kneel down beside the tub, being careful not to let his eyes drift. After all, he didn’t want to make her uncomfortable with him.

Lying beside her, Connor took in her features. The absolute bliss she was in that, for once, didn’t involve her being asleep. No, she was awake and fully at peace. And the fact that that was done with Connor there with her only made him happier.

Smiling at her, he gently placed his hand on hers, Rachel intertwining her fingers with his in response. Before he didn’t understand how just her smile could cause his software to grow more unstable. But now, as he basked in its glow, he understood perfectly well now why as it sent warm crackles throughout him. In his eyes, even the sun could never be as bright as a genuine smile from her.

“It’s so strange.” She said, seemingly voicing her thoughts out loud in the comfort of this moment. “Deviancy has really changed you. But at the same time, not really. It’s...it’s more like,” she hesitated, trying to find the right words to describe it, “you’re still you, but...more you, if that makes any sense.”

Pondering her observation, Connor brought her hand to his lips, placing a gentle peck on her delicate knuckles. “I think I understand.” He assured her. “I’m realizing now just how much CyberLife’s programming was holding back a lot from me.”

Rachel then snickered at him, raising an eyebrow at him. “And yet, you’ve had your eyes on me even then.” She said, that smirk of hers ever present on her soft face. Another aspect that Connor couldn’t help but find endlessly charming and endearing. “I mean, I have a bit of a talent of attracting others towards me frequently. I just didn’t realize that it also extended to androids as well.”

“Only because you made it so impossible to resist you.” Connor teased in earnest. It was the truth, honestly. Even since the first day, he couldn’t help but find himself drawn to her rather unique persona from the rest of the precinct.

Her expression softened as she continued gazing into his eyes, practically melting him from the inside out. “So, when did you actually start feeling things for me?” She asked him. “Just curious.”

Connor had to actually think properly about that for a moment. Since the day he met her, she had a profound effect on him. She certainly had quite the effect on his software, that much was obvious to him. But...when did he actually have real feelings for her? 

First Day

Eden Club

Kamski’s House

Jericho

“I think...it was our first day. After we finished working the cases for the day, after dealing with Rupert.” Rachel tilted her head at him in confusion. “The android with the birds.”

“Ohhhh, gotcha!” She said, seeming to understand. “Right, go on.”

Connor nodded. “It was when I saw you, when I arrived at your home and you explained everything...about your reaction to the incident on the highway.”

Rachel nodded. “Ah, when you were staring through my window at me like a total creep.” She teased with a playful snicker.

“I didn’t mean to stare, I promise.” Connor said to her, not wanting her to think he wanted to make her uncomfortable. “But when I saw you dancing and singing all by yourself in the comfort of your own home...I think that’s when I realized there was something more to what I was feeling in your presence.” Her eyes widened in small shock at him, but he had no reason to think it was a negative reaction. “That was the first time I had seen you completely as you are without restraint or fear. I think that’s when I became enamoured with you. When you were being you completely organically, unapologetically, and unabashedly.”

Rachel - Lover ^ Rachel looked like she was about to completely melt. “Awwwwwww! That’s actually really sweet!” She said, pressing her cheek into his hand.

The android couldn’t control the grin on his lips. “And the more I learned about you, the more that feeling became more apparent. Even if I didn’t understand it, yet.”

She giggled at him. “And when did you understand?” She asked him, not breaking eye contact with him. “When did you know you had feelings for me?”

That was a question Connor didn’t have to think too hard about. The answer was obvious. 

Eden Club

Kamski’s House

Jericho

Rachel - Lover ^ “At Kamski’s place.” Connor replied. “When you were explaining what it’s like when you find someone special. When you find yourself attracted to and drawn to someone. When you explained it to me...I realized that what I was feeling...was what you were describing.” She stared at him intently, willing him to continue. “And that that’s what I was feeling towards you. That’s what I tried to tell you before we had to talk with Kamski.”

Rachel scoffed, laughing to herself mostly. “God, that’s cliche.” She said, sighing. “That’s...when I knew, too. Or, just a little bit after. When you went into the other room. That’s when I realized that I fell for you and I fell hard.”

Tease

Elaborate

[Say Nothing]

“Is that why you were threatening to push Lieutenant Anderson into Kamski’s pool?” Connor asked curiously.

This made his partner break out into quiet, yet uncontrollable laughter as she slumped over, her short curled hair obscuring her face. “God fucking damn it, Hank.” He giggled between breaths. “Yeah, he was being a real smug bastard about it.”

“I can imagine.” Connor teased, enjoying the sounds of her laughter. Another aspect that he couldn’t get enough of. “So, when did you start having romantic feelings towards me?”

Once she had caught her breath, she looked to the side, thinking. Her mind was always active. Always thinking, theorizing, and hypothesizing. There was a reason Connor valued her opinion the most. She put immense thought into everything. Her opinions were all carefully constructed and woven with great effort.

“Honestly, the Eden Club.” She replied. “Don’t get me wrong, I found you very interesting and charming since I saw you. There was no doubt that I wanted to get to know you and wanted to spend more time with you as soon as we met. But I think it was the Eden Club when I started feeling something else. I was very obviously teasing you and making jokes at you. But I did not expect you to throw my own bullshit back at me, and it caught me completely off-guard.” She shook her own head begrudgingly at him, and Connor couldn’t help but feel a smug sense of pride. “But wow, you really broke me down and started something in me.”

Tease

Compliment

[Say Nothing]

“I know.” Connor said slyly. “I could tell by the way you were watching me analyze blood samples.” The squeak Rachel made almost spurred Connor’s circuits again and he had to fight the urge to grab her by the face and clash their lips together again. “Your arousal was very clear for me to see, and I knew exactly the reason.”

Rachel scoffed and turned away from him, her cheeks a soft rose colour as she refused to look at him. “Smug bastard.” She grumbled, but the android couldn’t help but find her embarrassment captivatingly adorable. But then a gentle and tender smile graced her lips as her brows eased. “But you’re my smug bastard.”

Rachel - Lover ^ That word nearly made his software stutter. Mine. Indeed, it was true. He was indeed hers, and she was his. That much was certain now, and he wouldn’t have it any other way.

He wanted Rachel to know the full depths of what he felt. To know everything about his innermost honest feelings. He let go of her hand, prompting her to look at him in confusion.

But that confusion was replaced with understanding when he deskinned his hand, open palmed towards her. She smiled, shifting herself so that she could pull her left hand out. She deskinned her own and gently touched his own hand with hers.

She let out a shaky sigh, closing her eyes and leaning forward. Connor pressed his forehead against hers in an effort to keep her stable. This was a lot more intense for her than it was for Connor, but he couldn’t deny that now this had a much deeper effect on him. He felt everything she could feel. He was thankful she didn’t flinch anymore, getting the handle on her ability.

But once they connected and synchronized, she blinked at him, a blissful smile on her face. “You love me.” She murmured.

Connor returned her smile, getting lost in her rich brown eyes. “I do.”

Rachel - Lover ^ Their lips met once again, and it felt like his biocomponents were being shocked. Everything they did was amplified completely, from being able to feel her heartbeat to being able to feel her thoughts. Everything else disappeared around them. Unlike their passionate fervour just earlier, this was something gentle, tender, and sweet.

And once they pulled away, Connor could feel the lingering desire to stay glued together. And the most perplexing part was he couldn’t tell whose desire that was if it wasn’t mutual.

Then Rachel pulled her hand from his, and the connection was broken. “We should probably go to bed.” She suggested. “We have a long day tomorrow, and it would do us good to be rested.”

Connor nodded, understanding. “I’ll let you get dressed.” He said, getting up and exiting the bathroom. He closed the door and seated himself on the bed, waiting for her.

After this night...tomorrow would come. And tomorrow wasn’t going to be as pleasant or blissful as this.

No, there was a good chance that tomorrow would be the end.

--------

Brushing my teeth, one word rattled through my head. Tomorrow. Tomorrow, everything was going to end up sideways. We were going to really get into the thick of the revolution. Peace was our goal, but I knew that that wasn’t going to come without a great price.

And that price could potentially be our lives.

Stepping out of the bathroom, the weight of the coming morning was weighing on me. I couldn’t even feel my feet as I walked onto the carpet. “Is everything okay, Rachel?” Connor asked me.

Looking up at him, a fire had been lit inside me. “I just realized...we don’t know what’s going to happen tomorrow.” I said, approaching him slowly. “We don’t know if we’ll make it out alive tomorrow.”

He narrowed his eyes at me, worry creasing his brow. “We will.” He seemed so sure.

But...I knew that it couldn’t be guaranteed. “We might not.” I insisted, standing directly in front of him, looking down at his dark eyes. “This could be our last night together.”

The tension between us grew as I stood in front of him, staring him down. The LED on his temple spun yellow as he stared up at me.

As the reality of our mortalities began to set in, the tension snapped and I pressed my lips to Connor’s harshly, grabbing his face and delighting in the little whimpering gasp he let out. If this was our last night, then I was damn well going to take advantage of this moment while we had it.

I sat myself right onto him, straddling him as Connor wrapped his arms around me. Clinging myself tighter to him, I heard him let out a little whimper, and against my groin, I knew exactly what was down there.

And I pulled back, staring down in astonishment. “Is something wrong?” Connor asked me, concern layering his quiet soft voice.

“No, no! Not at all!” I said, reassuring him and feeling bad that I was freaking him out. “I just...somehow didn’t think that you actually came...equipped.”

Connor looked so nervous, and it was honestly so adorable to see. “CyberLife androids are designed to be a completely realistic imitation of humans. Thus, I am equipped with a functioning phallus.”

I had to hold back a snicker at the word ‘phallus.’ It was so technical, but that was Connor. And I found it so endearing. But a far more devious thought crossed my mind as I gave him a rather evil smirk. “Is that so?” I reached a hand and cupped his package, getting the most delicious little gasp out of Connor as he pressed his forehead into mine, his eyes screwed shut at the sensation. “And it’s fully functioning, is it?”

“Y-yes.” Connor stuttered, panting. Oh how I loved this sight of him. Completely falling apart beneath me. I even noticed the blush that was forming on his cheeks. Blue. Interesting. As much as I really enjoyed being taken advantage of, there was a completely different allure to having this sort of control over someone. Especially when that person was Connor, the deviant hunter. The android who was as determined as any human, if not more. The android who was typically the one who had the situation under control. “I-it’s never been t-tested, however. B-but,” he hesitated, looking up at me meekly. “Are you sure you’re ready for this?”

“Yes.” I groaned into his ear, applying more pressure to his ever growing hard-on, savouring the beautiful whimpers coming from him and the feeling of him trying to stop himself from rutting into my hand. I hovered by his neck, ghosting over his synthetic skin with my lips, sensing his shivers. “But...is this what you want, Connor? Do you want me?”

The fist bunching in my hair and gripping my hip told me exactly the answer. “Yes!” He growled, pulling my head back and sinking his teeth into my neck as he hoisted me up and threw me onto the bed, towering over me as I wrapped my legs around his waist. As much as I enjoyed having that sort of control over Connor, I was submissive by nature, and I immediately succumbed to his assertion of dominance.

He pressed me down into the bed, pulling and tugging at my skin with his teeth, groaning and growling. God, just the feeling of his chest pushed into mine was making me completely melt. With every bite, I gasped and with every desperate thrust of his clothed member, I couldn’t help but cry out for him.

But...it wasn’t enough. “Y-you know - mm - you can bi-ah! You can bite me a l-little harder.” I managed to get out despite my panting and rapid heartbeat. “I don’t mind.”

Connor seemed to hesitate for a moment, pulling back to look at me. “I don’t want to hurt you, Rachel.” He fretted, gently cupping my cheek.

Even when he was dominant over me, all he cared about was my welfare. I gave him a reassuring smile and kissed his palm. “Don’t worry too much about that, Connor.” I tentatively assured him. “Fun fact about me, I’m something of a masochist myself.”

Red, the colour of his primal urges taking over making me quake in anticipation. Before I could even register what was happening, Connor was already back on my neck, leaving rough and stinging love bites on my sensitive flesh. I couldn’t stop myself from grinding up into him, clutching onto him. “Ah! Fuck! S-so good!” I hissed out, clawing at his back.

Suddenly he pulled away from my neck, his hands then quickly snapped to the hem of my PJ shirt as he fixed me with a sharp glare with his obsidian black eyes that could cut through diamonds. “Off. Now.”

I couldn’t help but smirk up at him. “You used my thing back at me, well played.” I praised him. The tightening on my waist was very much telling me that he was growing impatient. I reached to pull my shirt, but I hesitated for a moment. I hadn’t exposed myself like this for anyone in a very long time, and it was rather daunting. “You’ll, uh...have to forgive me. I’m a bit self-conscious.”

Blinking back to blue, Connor’s attitude shifted. “Do you want to stop?” He asked.

“No, no!” I assured him, giving him a reassuring kiss. “Just, uh. Let me work up the courage.”

He nodded, and shuffled back a bit to give me enough space to do it. Tugging at the hem of my shirt, I took a deep breath. At least I wasn’t wearing a bra, so no fumbling with that. But at the same time...I would be so exposed. 

But I trusted Connor. Okay, swallow your damn nerves. Treat this like your last night alive because it very well could be! Choking on my pride, I pulled my shirt over my head and threw it behind me, letting my breasts spring free in the cool air. Laying on my back, they sagged to the sides, spilling over. I always found them rather odd, as they were positioned rather far apart and pointed out to the sides.

As he was looking me over, a soft smile on his lips as his LED pulsed yellow, he then looked up at me, his hands hovering at my sides. “You’re beautiful.” He whispered.

I looked away from him, suddenly feeling very bashful. When I looked back up at him I noticed how meek he seemed. I chuckled and put my hands on his, and gave him a patient smile. “You can touch them, you know.” I reassured him, getting him to look at me. I guided his hands up to my chest and let him decide to take my breasts in his hands. “It’s fine, I trust you. Go ahead. You’ve never done this before, so...enjoy.”

Connor looked at me like this was his Christmas before he leaned over and kissed me, and I melted into it, snaking my arms around his back and into his perfect soft hair. He then kissed the corner of my mouth, down my jaw, and then across my neck, which was sensitive from the marks I was sure Connor left. 

And all the while, his large hands were gently kneading at my breasts. “A-ahhhh!” I sighed in pure bliss. “I was right when I said you’d be good with your hands.”

I could feel him smirk against my skin as he moved to my left breast and clasped his mouth around the nub, making me squeal. With his other hand, he pinched at and rolled the other nipple in his fingers, gently massaging the mound of flesh. “Fuck! And your mouth!” I gasped.

Connor removed his mouth from my nipple with an exaggerated pop, replacing it with the hand that was cupping my breast. “You have no idea, Detective.” He teased, a thick glaze over his sultry tone that cut through me like butter and further fed the fire between my legs.

I managed to pull myself out of the blissful glow to look down at him, scoffing at him. “Why don’t you show me then, Connor?” I asked, somewhat jokingly. But I’d be lying if I wasn’t thinking about his tongue diving right into me and lapping me up.

But God, that damn look. That crooked smile and those knowing eyes. “If you insist, Detective.” And fuck, that voice! When the Hell did he get so good at this?

Still working with my breasts, he trailed his kisses downward, hovering on my stomach. His hands trailed down to my sides, tenderly squeezing at the pudge on them. As much as I was confident in my body, I couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about it. But all those doubts disappeared when Connor started planting kisses all over my stomach and kept massaging my sides, humming pleasantly all the while.

Then his hands hooked themselves into the waistband of my pajama pants and he tugged pleadingly, looking up at me again. “May I?” He asked.

God, even when I was practically putty in his hands, Connor was so gentle and considerate. “Fuck, please.” I begged.

Hooking his fingers into the band, he yanked my pants off my legs with gusto, throwing them onto the floor. I suddenly felt quite naked now that I was completely nude. My legs were not exactly bare and as much as I personally liked the thick hair on my legs (being without hair was physically uncomfortable for me), I was still rather self-conscious about them. As old as I get, the constant needling by both my parents and my elementary school bullies still kinda gets to me sometimes.

But the way he ran his hands along my legs and looked at me so adoringly with those soft mahogany eyes melted all of my defenses. “Ah!” I gasped as Connor’s hands then grabbed my ass as he suddenly hauled my backside up, my legs hooking behind his head. “Ohhhhh my God.” My shoulders and arms were still on the bed, my hands gripping the edge of the bed as he stood up. I only now just realized that I was completely naked while he hadn’t even taken off his tie.

A fact that frustrated me, but I couldn’t tell in which way.

Peppering kisses along my thighs, I slowly opened my legs for him, resting my legs further on his shoulders. I practically shuddered in anticipation as he drifted closer and closer to my slit, which in the cool air I only now realized just how wet I was.

But just as he neared it...he slid past it, peppering kisses on my naval. I whined in protest, but then as I looked up at him...he had a damn smirk on his precious face. “Oh, you’re doing this on purpose!” I hissed at him.

“Hmmmm.” He hummed, resuming to plant little soft kisses everywhere, just barely grazing my dripping and needy sex. “I’m not sure I know what you mean, Detective.”

Ohhhh, you sly son of a bitch! “Oh, come on, Connor!” I begged, trying to thrust into his face, but his grip was ironclad and he held me in place. All I could do was whine pathetically. “Motherfucker...please, Connor!”

Again, his glance at me set me even more on fire, that damned smirk plastered all over his face. “You’ll have to be more specific, Detective.”

“Ugh! I want you to wreck me with your damn tongue, you fucking tease!” I finally growled at him, throwing my head back in frustration as I gripped the sheets. “God, you’re such a fucking assho-oooOOOOoh, fffffuck!” I whimpered, curling my toes at the sensation of Connor’s tongue sliding up through my folds and gently flicking my clit as he pulled back. Daring to look up at him, I noticed that his LED was spinning yellow as he was just...staring at me. I tilted my head at him curiously. “Are you...analyzing me?”

“Yes.” Connor answered rather matter-of-factly. “I’ll admit, ever since I noticed your reactions to the way I analyze blood samples, I was curious about how you’d taste.”

I shuddered at that revelation. Oh my God, you thirsty bitch. I quirked a nervous smirk at him. “A-and, how do I taste?”

The way his smirk only grew as his LED once again glowed that threatening red made me nervous. “Absolutely perfect.”

He wasted no time diving right back into me, lavishing every part of my sex with his eager tongue. He had me mewling and quivering to the point that I barely even realized the obscene noises he was making as he practically tried to devour me from the inside-out.

And fuck, he was so good at it! I made a mental note to find out who exactly was in charge of designing Connor and pay them handsomely for this gift bestowed unto me. I haven’t had sex in years and it was rather evident now just how sensitive I was from the lack of activity.

I had no doubt he was going to push me over the edge in no time, but he wasn’t rushing. No, he was taking his sweet time, exploring and indulging wholly in me, and cataloguing every reaction he was pulling from me.

“Ahhhhhh! Fuck!” I swore, squirming in his grip. That thread in me was tightening and tightening. With every prod at my entrance and every flick of my clit, I felt myself start to tense and coil around him, my toes curling at the sensations. “You’re doing so good for me, Connor.”

That seemed to spur him further as he picked up the pace, his ministrations getting more desperate as he moaned right into me, only making me whine even more. My thoughts were barely coherent as I realized something rather pleasant. He has a thing for praise. Interesting. And of course, I was going to use that to my advantage.

I was getting pretty close to skirting over that edge, that thread tightening and tightening. “You’re so good, Connor.” I moaned out, trying to maintain my breath while he was practically destroying me. The whimper I felt from his lips let me know I was definitely doing this right. “You’re treating me so good, baby.”

Connor maintained his grip on my hip, tight against my flesh, his other hand snaking up between my legs. “Oh, shit!” I practically gasped as he slid a finger inside me, his mouth focusing entirely on my clit. As he was working his finger in me, curling it at a torturously slow pace. “Ah! God, Connor!” He was working me into a frenzy, and all I could do was clench around him and mewl helplessly. That thread was only getting tighter and tighter and it was about to snap in only seconds, I was sure.

And I wanted him to shove me right off the edge. “Oh, fuck! Connor, I-I’m gonna - ah - I’m gonna cum!” I whimpered, practically clawing at the bedsheets as my broken voice echoed around the dark room. “Shit, fuck, make me cum, Connor! Oh God, I need you to make me cum!”

Connor responded with a second finger inside, curling and pumping into me at a rapid pace. I was trying so hard to choke back screams at the mind-numbing tightness building up in me. I was very quickly losing control, my head getting light from how much I was gasping for air and from how hard and fast my heart was going.

The tension inside me was growing tighter, and tighter, and tighter.

Until finally, the thread snapped and I choked back a scream as I came, squeezing Connor’s head between my thighs and his wrist with my hand. I was pretty sure I tore into my bedsheets with my other hand.

Trembling from the high of my orgasm, Connor gently lowered my back onto the bed. He was working me through it before he removed his fingers from me, gingerly lapping up the slick I was sure would’ve coated my legs if not for his eager mouth there to catch it all.

Coming down from the high and settling into the afterglow, I let out a sigh. Connor removed himself from my legs, wiping his face with his hand and then slipping his fingers into his mouth, cleaning them of all of my essence.

If we somehow still ended up working at the DPD, crime scene analysis was going to be way more awkward, but like Hell I cared when Connor loomed over me like that.

As he gazed down at me, his eyes were warm like hot cocoa and his LED was his typical cool blue hue. “Are you okay, Rachel?” He asked, his voice husky and low.

I chuckled up at him, his question so innocent and worried. “I’m more than okay, Connor.” I said, reveling in this bliss between us. I reached out to stroke his cheek, carding my fingers through his hair. “You did such a good job for me, baby.”

I could feel him shudder and his breath hitch. Yes indeed, my precious android had a praise kink. And discovering that together made it so much more satisfying. “Are...are you finished?” He asked me tentatively. “Or, can you handle another?”

I couldn’t help but drift my eyes downward to his groin. The moment I did, I saw just how hard he was against his jeans. He looked so eager for me, and I almost felt my mouth water at the thought of his member inside me. I then gave him a coy smile and kept gently caressing his hair and face. “Awwww, how selfish of me.” I moaned mockingly. “I didn’t even realize how neglected you were. How thoughtless of me. I should’ve been far more considerate.” He stared at me, as if begging me for permission with just his eyes. But I could definitely go for another round, and the hole inside me was aching to feel him fill it. “I suppose it would be cruel to refuse. After all, you’ve been such a good boy for me, haven’t you?”

His eyes fluttered closed as he gulped hard, trembling as he pressed his face into my hand. “Y-yes, Rachel.” He practically whimpered. “I h-have been good to you, right?”

Oh lord, he was so precious. “Oh, you’ve been so good to me, baby. Such a good boy.” I praised him, noticing how impatient and jittery he was getting, pressing himself into me. I felt his hardness against my sensitive sex and found myself growing more and more eager to feel him without that annoying barrier of cloth. “You like that, don’t you Connor? You like it when I tell you how good you are? You like it when I call you a good boy, don’t you?”

“Fuck! Yes, Rachel.” Connor swore, the desperation in his tone as he pressed his forehead against mine was priceless. “I-I can’t explain h-how good it feels to h-h-hear you say all that to m-me. But it feels so good.”

“Goodness.” I cooed at him, peppering little tepid kisses on his cheek and his forehead. “I’ll have to tell you all that more often, then.”

“Please, Rachel.” He whined, the sound of him begging igniting something primal in me. “I-I want - no, I need you to tell me how g-good I am.”

I physically couldn’t stop myself from giving his lovely face a plethora of kisses. And the pleasant hum he was making just made me adore him even more. “Well, you can start by getting yourself out of that suit.” I teased, gently nipping at his ear, gripping at his tie. God, I loved pulling on his tie. “It seems rather unfair that I’m the only one undressed.”

Connor seemed to take the hint and pushed himself off of me, shucking his jacket off hastily. “Hey! Why the rush, Connor?” I said, pulling my legs up onto the bed, propping my head on my arm as I gave him a once-over. “Take it slow, baby. Put on a bit of a show for me, won’t you?”

The android nodded, his dark eyes glazed over. If an android could feel lust, I could see it clear as day in him. Taking his time, he pulled his tie free and let it fall to the carpet, working with the buttons on his dress shirt. I’d seen his chest before, but now the air was so much more different.

Now, I could actually take the time to really enjoy the view. As he finally undid the last button and let the white shirt fall onto the ground, I could really take in his sculpted figure. Lean, but toned. Not overly muscular, but he didn’t need them. His skin looked so smooth, and I just wanted to run my hands all over him. He turned away from me so I could see his back, and God, the sight of the way his shoulder blades tensed made me want to sink my teeth right into him. It made me want to dig my nails right into his back.

I felt a little disappointment that there would be no marks left behind, due to the nature of the android’s self healing synthetic skin, but even still, it was quite the tantalizing thought.

The sounds of Connor undoing his belt buckle made me further tense in anticipation. This was really happening. I was really going to have sex with this man. Oh God, I was going to have sex with Connor. And the fact that he wanted to have sex with me made it so much better.

He wasn’t an android designed to fulfill all my wishes. He was no slave. This was his own choice. Something he actively wanted. Because he trusted and loved me. It was something he wanted from me. Just the idea that he wanted me lit a low pool of warmth and flames as I patiently waited for him.

Pulling his jeans down, I got a good look at his rear, taut against his boxers. He was at least a head taller than me, so I probably wasn’t going to be able to reach his wonderfully sculpted ass once he decided to dive into me. Perhaps one of these days, my hands would be able to indulge in them.

But as he glanced behind at me, a mischievous glint in his eyes, he slipped his thumbs into the waistband of his boxers. I saw the ghost of his bulge as I watched him slip his grey boxers off his bottom, pulling them down as he let his erection spring free.

Kicking it away, he turned towards me, fixing me with a curious glower. My eyes were glued on his newly freed member, my lips parting in anticipation. It didn’t look much different from a human’s and it was a pretty decent size. It was circumcised, which I supposed made sense. Not too big. I wasn’t much of a fan of large dicks since more often than not, I hear that they’re not actually that pleasurable and are just painful.

But something curious about it drew my attention as I stared at the tip. “Huh, blue.” I thought out loud, noticing the flush of cerulian at the tip that faded going down. No doubt as a result of thirium flowing through his veins rather than blood. “Interesting.”

Connor’s resolve seemed to falter for a moment as she shuffled. “Do you...not like it?”

I tore my gaze from it and stared up at his anxious face. I gave him a reassuring smile as I pulled myself up into a seating position, my feet touching the carpet. “Of course I do.” I assured him, beckoning him to come closer. “It’s yours, after all.”

He walked over to me and reached out to gingerly grab my face and plant a firm kiss on my lips, a gesture I eagerly returned, humming pleasantly into it and running my hands all through his hair. Connor’s hair was normally so neat and kempt, but seeing it all messed up and ruffled was a sight to behold.

Invitingly, I spread my legs open for him, giving him full access to me as I hooked my legs around his waist, pulling him down on top of me as I let myself fall back into the bed. His cock was sliding against me, getting a surprised gasp out of the both of us, making me aware of just how quickly I had slicked myself again.

We broke apart, and I looked up at him. His eyes were brimming with so much love, adoration, desire, and affection that I nearly fell apart right there. I brushed his cheek with my knuckles, to which he let out a strained sigh, taking my hand in his own and kissing it tenderly.

Glancing down at me again, I felt him sliding against me, making me moan and mewl just at the thought of him finally being inside me. “I want to fuck you, Rachel.” He groaned, his voice crackling a little bit. “Please, can I fuck you now?”

Oh lordy, begging was such a lovely sound to get out of him. I could practically feel him twitching against me. I was getting the impression we were both switches, considering just how good he sounded both when he took control and when he was begging me. That was something I knew I was going to have fun with. “Go ahead, Connor.” I said, giving him a quick peck. “I’m all yours.”

Hooking his arms under my legs to get an angle, I clenched in anticipation. This was really about to happen. But I was briefly worried about how rough or gentle he was going to be with me, and put my hands on his shoulders. “Wait!” I gasped.

He looked back up at me, concern written on his delicate features. “Is something wrong?” He asked me. “Do you want to stop?”

“No, no!” I assured him, chuckling nervously. “Just, uh. Fair warning: I haven’t actually had sex in years, so...just ease me into it and start me off gentle.” It was a mild concern, since I was pretty sure I was slick enough that he could start plowing me into the mattress no problem. But I have had problems starting out in pain before, and I just wanted him to know that.

Pecking my forehead with a gentle appreciative smile, Connor pulled back, swallowing hard. “I understand.” He assured me. Pushing forward, his member prodding at my entrance, making me shudder with excitement, he whispered. “I’m going to move inside you. If you feel any discomfort, please let me know, and I’ll stop to let you adjust.”

Fuck, what a gentleman.

“Go right ahead.” I urged him, hooking my arms around his neck. “I trust you, Connor.”

Slipping his tip into my entrance, he let go of my legs and bunched his fists up into the blanket on either side of my head, groaning. I sighed, the feeling of him slowly sliding inside and filling me up igniting something long buried inside me. I clutched onto him, encouraging him with sweet words and reassurances. He was trembling, and I could tell he was really holding back. The idea that he wanted nothing more than to just absolutely destroy me made me pant more for him.

But for now, I just wanted him to be comfortable and to know he wasn’t hurting me. He could have his fun once he was confident in himself.

Once he had completely buried himself to the hilt, filling me up so blissfully, we both let out a pleasured sigh, me pressing my forehead into his. Connor was panting as he was practically caging me with his arms, doubling over panting. “You feel so good.” He whimpered. “You’re so warm and soft a-and wet. You make me feel so fucking good.” His words were bordering on growls, but they were strained as he was struggling to catch his breath. Every one of his curses and swears sent an electric shock through me. And the fact that I was the one making him feel like this just drove me further. The thought crossed my mind that this was his first. He had never had sex before this, so I was his first. And I was glad that he was really enjoying this. “I-I need to move. Can I please move, Rachel?”

I let out a breathy chuckle, kissing him to make him more comfortable. “Go right ahead, baby.” I whispered breathily. “I know you’ll fuck me so good, Connor.”

Taking that encouragement as an adage to his resolve, he started to set a slow and languid pace, getting used to the feeling and making sure he wasn’t hurting me. It was honestly too slow for my liking, but seeing Connor already coming undone above me just losing himself in the feeling of being inside me was pushing me real close to the edge of another orgasm.

And I didn’t want to finish before he could, so I tapped his cheek to get his attention. “You can g-go ahead and...go faster now.” I let him know. He could barely form words, so I nodded at him. “I’m all good. Go ahead.” I pulled him down towards my neck to get access to his ear. “Go ahead and lose yourself, Connor. I like it rough.”

I didn’t have to look at him to know that the switch had been flipped. All I needed to feel was Connor sinking his teeth into my neck, making me arch my back as he hooked his arms under mine, gripping my shoulders as he snapped his hips sharply into me.

All I could do was whimper and hold back screams as he pistoned into me, growling as he slammed into me. I could barely even hold myself up for him, so he slid his knees under me so he could stay closer to me while he started fucking me ruthlessly. I could barely even form any coherent thoughts, my brain just melting into the white noise and the carnal nature of this.

There were definitely going to be bruises on my thighs from the sheer force of it, but like Hell I was about to complain. Right now, nothing else mattered and it was just us. Us and the mutual love and attraction we had towards each other all coming together in this.

I knew I wasn’t going to last much longer, and by the whimpers and helpless moans Connor was making, his voice now crinkling with static, he wasn’t going to either. “C-Connor!” I cried pitifully, my voice getting drowned out by how vigorously he was slamming into me. “I-I’m gonna - ah!”

“I-I know!” Connor hissed, his husky crackling voice in my ear sending shudders all throughout my body. “C-cum for me, Rachel! I want to make you cum!”

Fuck! I tried pathetically to clutch into his backside, but I could barely get any sort of hold. But Connor did something rather unexpected and removed his right hand from me and grabbed my left with it, pinning it into the bed, intertwining our fingers.

It was only when I suddenly felt everything go white and what felt like a thousand jolts of electricity going through me that I realized what was going on.

He wanted us to be connected when we came.

Feeling tears roll down my cheeks from the sudden and overwhelming overstimulation, I sunk my teeth into his neck as he sunk his into mine. With the overwhelming feeling of both of our emotions and sensations firing through every synapse in my brain, my heartbeat practically making me see stars, everything completely collapsed inside me as I came hard. 

Waves upon waves crashed and washed over me as we rode out this high together. Connor thrusted about two or three more times until he bottomed out inside me almost to the point of pain, his cock pulsing as I could feel my insides getting filled to the brim. The brief concern of pregnancy flickered in my brain before I quashed that, reminding myself that his semen was probably synthetic, and I didn’t have to worry.

Only when we came down, unclasping our hands and panting heavily, did I realize that I had broken through Connor’s synthetic skin, a metallic taste in my teeth. But when I looked up at him, his mouth was stained with red, indicating that he’d also broken skin when he had his teeth in my neck.

His skin had healed over when I pulled away, but I briefly saw traces of thirium over him. My lips felt a little tingly at what I was sure was blue blood, the strange taste permeating my thoughts. “I-I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to hurt you.” Connor apologized between breaths.

An idea crossed my mind as my eyes were fixed on his lips and I reached up to pull his face down into mine, clashing our lips together.

I eagerly slid my tongue into his mouth, taking in the taste of our blood mixing together. It was definitely a weird thing to get turned on by, I’ll admit, but fuck it. It was more the symbolism of it that got me going.

Thirium and blood mixing together in this maddening union between us while a grim fate awaited us after this night.

Once we had pulled away, I slumped back against the cool sheets, guiding Connor’s head to rest on my chest. “Fuck...that was intense...” I sighed, basking in the afterglow, feeling my heartbeat still going.

Connor was still inside me, but I didn’t really want him to leave me yet. As I was coming down from the high of that Earth-shattering orgasm, the realization of what tomorrow could bring was beginning to truly dawn on me, and I clutched onto him as I felt him trying to untangle from me. “I’ll bring you a glass of water.”

“No.” I ordered him, nuzzling my cheek into his hair. “It’s time for cuddles.”

But once again, Connor tried to pry himself from me. “But I don’t want you to fall asleep dehydrated.” He insisted. “Your health is important to me.”

“Water later, snuggles now.” I protested, whimpering at the thought of being apart from him.

“But you’ll fall asleep and I don’t want to disturb you.” Connor mumbled against my skin. “I’ll come back, don’t worry. I promise.”

Begrudgingly, I let him go, the android getting up from the bed effortlessly. Immediately I felt that hollow lonely feeling without him in my arms. He walked into the bathroom and grabbed the robe he used when he stayed here and put it on.

I managed to sit myself up, feeling dizzy and lightheaded from our fun little romp. Connor approached me and held me steady in his hands as he planted an affectionate kiss on my forehead. “I’ll be right back, Rachel.”

“I know.” I mumbled as he opened the door of the bedroom and made his way downstairs. Feeling the mess between my legs and all over my naval, I decided I should probably use the restroom. After all, gotta prevent UTIs, although I wasn’t sure if that applied to androids.

Oh well, not a good idea to risk it. Standing up, my legs felt extremely unsteady as I stumbled my way into the bathroom. God, Connor fucked me really good. For potential “end of the world” sex, I couldn’t really have asked for anything better than that.

Opening the door, I turned the knob and made my way inside.

--------

Date: November 10th, 2038  Time: 01:37 AM Rachel - Lover Objective: Provide Aftercare

Making his way back into the bedroom with a glass of water in his hand, Connor noticed the light on in the bathroom and the door closed.

Not wanting to disturb her, Connor decided to seat himself on the bedside, pulling up the blanket so Rachel could slip into bed much easier. Putting the glass on the nightstand, he waited patiently for Rachel, smiling to himself.

He was sure that this blissful feeling was what afterglow was like. He wished he could spend the rest of his days like this. Just living a normal life with Rachel, working on cases with her and Hank, and coming home to her.

Home. That’s what this had become to him. That’s what Rachel was to him. Despite the threat of what tomorrow would bring, it didn’t affect him. In fact, it only gave him further motivation not to fail. To accomplish his new mission.

It was strange. Before, he was only following orders. But despite being made for the purpose CyberLife created him for, he didn’t really have a purpose. He didn’t believe in what his mission was. He didn’t really believe in anything.

Not until he met Rachel and Hank.

And now, he had a purpose. His purpose was the humans he had come to truly value and care about. His purpose was to stand by and help his people be free from the humans.

He had something to believe in. And that, to Connor, was what it truly meant to be free. To be alive.

Stumbling out of the door of the bathroom, Rachel approached, turning the light off behind her as she rubbed her eyes. Giving him a weak smile, Rachel collapsed into him, Connor eagerly wrapping his arms around him and burying his face into her soft hair. Connor grabbed the glass from the nightstand and propped Rachel up in his lap and offered it to her.

The woman appreciatively took the glass gingerly, bringing it to her lips and downing it. She didn’t drink the whole glass, but it became evident that she had just realized that she was much more dehydrated than she had initially anticipated. Drinking the glass almost half empty, she set it down on the nightstand and pressed herself into Connor, lazily wrapping arms around him.

Connor smiled, and curled his fingers in her hair. “Are you ready for bed, Rachel?”

All she could do was nod, resting her chin on his shoulder. “Sleeby.” She slurred.

Connor smiled, cradling his human partner and setting her flat on her side of the bed. He shuffled in an effort to lie down beside her, but she stopped him, tugging at his robe. “Off.” She ordered weakly.

Connor found it impossible to refuse her in her exhausted splendor as he undid his robe and slid in behind her underneath the covers.

Pulling the blanket covers over them, Rachel turned to face Connor, curling herself into him. The android put his arms around her, sighing into the pleasant feeling of their skin pressed against each other.

As Connor set a time for stasis to be interrupted, he let out a pleased sigh. Whatever came tomorrow, he had this. Of that, he would never regret. “Connor?” She asked drowsily.

“Mm?” Connor murmured, resting his chin on her head.

She giggled into him, pressing gentle and tired kisses on his chest. “I love you.”

Connor felt a jolt to his systems. He already knew that, but he realized that she hadn’t actually said it to him, and that only made him hold her closer to him. He gently kissed her forehead before sinking into the pillow. “I love you too, Rachel.”

Rachel - Lover ^ Wrapping her arms around her, Rachel hummed into his chest contentedly.

All Connor could do was slip into stasis and then see what tomorrow would bring. But no matter what, he had no regrets.

He felt love. He had love. He was loved. And nothing and no one could ever take that from him.

Even if he ended up taking that to the grave.

---------------------------------

Next Chapter

[liquor-and-intellect]

Clouded- Part 6

In which Jules might or might not have feelings for her best friend, Harry, who is getting engaged to another girl and everything just becomes… more complicated.

or

friends to lovers to enemies to lovers- it’s complicated

In which Jules might or might not have feelings for her best friend, Harry, who is getting engaged to another girl and everything just becomes… more complicated.

or

friends to lovers to enemies to lovers- it’s complicated

previous parts

PART SIX

My eyebrows rose in surprise. “Are you drunk?” I asked.

Pushing passed me, he rolled his eyes. “You act like your surprised,” he muttered.

My hands shook slightly as I closed the door behind Harry, trying to keep my distance from him. He rarely got drunk… So his staggering steps and shining glassy green eyes—extremely—worried me.

“What are you doing here?” I finally asked, my voice an octave higher than a whisper. I avoided his statement.

There was a thump as Harry collapsed backwards onto my couch. “Because I'm mad,” he huffed.

“Like I didn't get the hint,” I mumbled, still leaning against the door as far away from him as I could get. Last time he was here, he had left my crying and bleeding on the floor, telling me he wanted nothing to do with me. Now he sat on my couch, drunk off his ass placidly telling me he’s mad? Yeah, I was fucking nervous.

He narrowed his eyes in thought. “But...” he started, waving his hand around in the air as if to grasp the words from the oxygen between us. “I'm not really mad.”

“Oh?” My finger picked at the band-aid covering the cut that the broken lamp left me with. At the same time, my mind picked at the edge of my memory of all the hurtful things he said to me.

He dragged his hands down his face, pulling at his eyelids. “I think... I think I'm more hurt than mad.” His face shifted into another emotion as he desperately grasped,  “Why didn't you tell me Julia? We were doing so... so good.”

I looked down. “I was waiting for the right time.” We hadn’t been doing good— but I didn’t feel like arguing with him.

Harry let out this sound between a sob and a laugh, turning his head to the side so I couldn't see him. “Did... did you not think I was good enough to be a father?” he asked, his voice hoarse as the alcohol made him unbelievably honest. “Did you think I would abandon you? I wouldn't... I wouldn't do that.” He looked up at me and I was surprised to see another type of glistening in his eyes.

It broke my heart.

“I would never think that...” I told him, hoping he could see the honest sincerity in my eyes. “I just-“ I shook my head. “didn't want to ruin your relationship with Elaine.” Her name on my tongue tasted bitter.

He looked away, his eyes, the color of grass and growth, watering with tears.

I couldn't hold my place anymore, my legs instinctively pulled me towards him, dropping to my knees at his feet. I laid my hands on his thighs, watching as he flinched from my touch at first before inevitably succumbing to it. He was a magnet and I was so desperately caught up in the nature of my bones pulling to his that I couldn't force myself to resist.

“Harry...” I whispered. “Please don't ever think that I would keep you from the baby. I fucked up. You were right. I was a coward and I kept telling myself I needed time to get my shit together before I told you.”

“The baby,” he repeated under his breath as if he couldn't believe it. I couldn't either.

Letting his eyes sink into mine, I said, “I wanted to give you the choice to leave if you wanted. You seemed so happy to be marrying Elaine that I... I just didn't want to get in the way of that.”

He looked away, his eyes focusing on the gray wall. If he could have, I swear he would have glared a hole into it. “You don't realize that the moment I got off that train the day… it was already ruined. All of it.”

I swallowed, trying not to let his words go straight to my heart. He was drunk and he might not feel the same if he was sober. “Listen to me,” I told him, reaching up to grab his cheeks in my hands and hold his gaze to my own. “you have a choice in this. You don't have to be a father. I know neither one of us are ready. You can go, you can enjoy your career and—and marry Elaine. I'm not going to deprive you of that life.”

His eyes stayed on me. “Do you think I should do that?” he asked, his voice too low and his eyes too steady.

I felt my heart strings being pulled taught. In a relationship where selfish choices lead you to life altering consequences, there was this point in time where you had to be selfless. You had to be the brave one to pick up your things and say “I'll take one for the team”. It's the only way anything good exists in this world.

I swallowed. “I think you should do what you truly want to. Whatever the easiest decision for you to make is. If-” I could feel my voice cracking in my throat. “-if you want to step away, know that I'll never hold you against it. I'll be happy if you're happy.”

The words had barely left my mouth before Harry pushed himself up from the couch, pushing me away in the process as he rushed to the opposite side of the living room. His shaking hands pushed themselves through his hair, tugging at the short roots like a lifeline. He refused to meet my eyes as he said, “No, no, no. You don't get to do that.”

I stood up, startled at his rapid movements. “I don't get to do what?”

He let out a shaky breath. “You don't get to be the martyr here. You- you can't act like it would be okay for me to leave you alone like this...” He looked around the room as if searching for an escape. “What are you doing to me?” he whispered.

I let out a huff. “What are you doing to me, Harry Styles?” I mumbled.

His eyes snapped up to mine, letting me know he heard me. “There's no way I'm walking away again,” he said. “There is no way... no way that I can go my entire life not knowing what could have happened.”

I sucked my lips into my mouth. He was drunk. I couldn't get my hopes up.

“Harry-” I sighed, feeling exasperated. “you're drunk, we can talk about this in the morning.”

He shook his head. “I've been feeling this way for a while, I just now have the guts to say it.”

I let out a breath, looking away. He's done this too many times.

He let out a frustrated groan from across the room, his voice sharp when he says, “Look at me.”

I kept my eyes down, feeling the tears in the back of my throat. This was too stressful- he was too stressful.

The sound of his boots across my hardwood floor grew closer. His voice rough, but his hand gentle as he grabbed my chin and said, “Jules, look at me.”

I did.

I looked at him because there was no one else that could drunkenly stumble into my house, having yelled at me and crushed my heart on the floor, and still have every single piece of me in the palm of his hands. Even if he was so stupidly unaware of it.

“I want to be the father of this baby. I'm going to be, whether you like it or not.” His voice was stern.

I nodded, my chin resting in between his two fingers. “I'd like that very much,” I murmured, feeling to small and too weak to do anything else.

His eyes stayed on me for a couple beats more, burning through the top layer of my heart, slicing through my secrets and fears to where I was now naked and bare under his gaze. All the cards were laid out now, I had nothing left between us.

This noise that I couldn't decipher left Harry's throat, reverberating through my core as he pulled my face to his, hungry lips meeting mine.

I had no willpower to fight back as I let him kiss me and take me under with him.

His mouth molded against mine, lips pushing as he pulled my top lip into his mouth. He tasted of alcohol and subtle mints and that suddenly was the most wonderful combination I had ever had the pleasure of knowing. His tongue dragged across my lip as I opened my mouth for him, Harry kissing me deeper than I had ever been kissed before. I felt our noses drag together in the rhythm of it.

His hands found my waist as mine rose up to clutch his arms so I wouldn't fall down from this wind. Our feet stumbling back towards the couch or the wall or something to hold my jelly legs up against.

When my back finally made contact with the solid wall, all space that had been left between us disappeared. His feet puzzled between mine, the contours of legs pressed against my thighs. The molecules of air that had drifted in the crevice between us were now pushed out by the force of our bodies molding so perfectly together.

Harry kissed me hungrily, as if I he only had a limited amount of time and he wanted to use every single second of it. His mouth engulfed mine, fingers digging themselves into my hair and down my neck and I was perfectly okay with him swallowing me whole. His teeth drug across my bottom lip, pulling it lightly away from my mouth and dragging it out, causing me to let out a small groan from the back of my throat as something much more firmer grew in my core.

“That's my favorite sound,” he mumbled, his voice gravelly in the space between us, just before ducking down to assault my neck with his toxic mouth. He pressed a small kiss in the middle of my throat. “It comes from right here,” he breathed against my skin, goosebumps rising in his exhale. I felt his teeth graze my skin as his mouth dragged to the place below my ear, his lips warm and wet as they pressed kisses to me.

He grabbed my face between his large hands, full blown pupils cutting to my core. “You don't know how much I've wanted to do this,” he said, his voice shaky.

I brushed my finger down the bridge of his nose. “I actually do,” I whispered.

His eyes shut, forehead resting against mine. “I love you, Julia,” he whimpered, as if the words physically hurt him from the deepest part of his soul. “I always have.”

All the breath left my lungs, pushing out to where I was nothing but this empty shell of a person. But he loved me, Harry loved me.

I could feel a small tear escaping down my cheek, dancing down from the corner of my eye. “I love you so much more than I should,” I told him back, closing my eyes when his finger brushed away my tears. “I swear one day it will kill me.”

I heard him swallow before pressing a kiss to my lips. Harry's hand grabbed mine before walking me down the hall to my bedroom, where so many things had happened once before.

“I want to drop everything for you and this baby,” he told me, grabbing both of my hands. “And I will. I'll call of the engagement and take a break from the band- I don't care. This is all I want.”

My eyes searched his face frantically, not believing what I was hearing. How did we get to this?

“You don't have to,” I murmured.

He shook his head frantically, grabbing my face again. “I don't care,” he breathed before kissing me again, slowly this time, letting me feel every inch of him and his words.

I felt myself slowly backing up to the edge of my bed, my knees buckling as I fell backwards. Harry stumbled with me, my hand grabbing his shirt to pull him on top of me.

He caught himself with his hand so he was leaning over me, pausing to stare down at me questioningly.

“What?” I asked.

He shook his head, “I... I-uh just don't want to land on top of you,” he muttered, his eyes landing down to my stomach.

My heart fluttered at his words and the gentleness that had always been Harry Styles. I gave him a soft smile as he used his forearms to hold himself up above me, leaning down to kiss me once again. I ran my curious hands up underneath his shirt, loving the feeling of his tender muscles beneath my fingertips, his breathing causing them to contract beneath the taut skin. Greedily, I pulled at the shirt, wanting it off of his tanned body.

Halting his kissing, he straightened up so he was on his knees, yanking the collar of his shirt to rip it off of him. My eyes landed on the curves and dips of his chest, wondering where my fifteen year old Harry had gone.

Reaching up to kiss him again, he pulled back, shaking his head. “You too,” he muttered and before I could ask what he meant, he tugged my white sweater over my head, throwing it to land across the room.

I let out a small laugh, watching as his head ducked down to press a kiss to my collar bone. His lips dragged all the way to my belly button, his movements pausing as he stared at my stomach. I could feel his shaky breath against my skin as he pressed a tender kiss to the space above my navel, moving east to press another on the side.

Laying on my back, I could see the very minute bump in between my hip bones, just barely visible underneath my skin.

As Harry skimmed a finger across the soft skin of my belly he whispered incredulously, “My baby is in there.” My breath was caught in my throat as he pressed more soft kisses where his finger had just been, each one lingering longer than the one before.

“Come here,” I murmured, grabbing his chin gently between my two fingers and pulling his face to mine so I could feel his lips again. I laughed into our kiss, breathing a, “this feels like a dream” into his mouth.

As he pushed my back into the mattress, entering into me slowly while taking notice of my stomach, he pressed a kiss just below my ear. “I know,” he replied back. “I know.”

Harry slowly rocked into me. It was soft and quiet. Like the gentle waves being pulled by the moon against the side of a ship, beating against it gently, never stopping or ceasing. There was a constant wave of motion, each one making me more breathless as his hips grazed my own, knocking up against my own walls, threatening the hull to collapse at each loving caress.

Even though a ship was built to withhold against the movements of tossing seas, no one was a match for the hypnotic way sweat glistened off Harry’s bare shoulders, illuminating the ink on his skin. A helm was not ready for the way he would throw his head back in pleasure when I clenched around him just right.

Nothing could have prepared me for the way I would fall in love with his scrunched up face as he came undone above me, bringing upon my own demise underneath his fingertips.

If I was a ship and Harry the waves: I was going under.

…

It was inevitable.

I could pull away to the furthest parts of the earth and some way, somehow I would still find myself waking up next to this man. This sleeping, beautiful, intoxicating man.

There was no denying that I was scared. I was afraid that we would have a repeat of last time. He would wake up, be ashamed and tear himself from my clutching arms, attempting to part from my life once again. I don't think I could take it this time. It would surely destroy me from the inside out.

So, I did the only thing I could do, and that was watch him sleep peacefully beside me. Eyes closed, mouth slightly parted and bare chest rising up and down. It was so mesmerizing and invigorating that I was for sure that it was some form of drug, there was no way pleasures like this exist for free in this world.

I had been laying there watching him for sometime now, when his eyelids started to flutter, opening to reveal the most exquisite shade of green—the green of growth and new beginnings. His gaze landed on me, soaking in my eased back posture, my hand resting on my cheek. In that moment, I was so scared of his reaction.

“I'm sorry,” I blurted out, before I could stop myself. The words seeming to poison the previously pure air between us.

He let out a long breath, crossing his fingers over his chest. “Nothing's your fault, Jules,” he replied, his voice groggy and laced with sleep. His face turned to look at me, his eyes swallowing me whole. His finger brushed along the expanse of my jaw, tracing the curving edges. “I know you're scared... but I'm not going to run out like last time.”

My breath caught in my throat. “You promise?” I asked. I knew I sounded desperate, but I didn’t care.

He nodded. “I promise. I'm not leaving you again.”

And those words— right in that moment— branded themselves permanently into the inside of my brain.

I couldn't help the smile that stretched across my face, from ear to ear it reached. It was contagious, because his eyes immediately lit up, his lips coming into a grin as well.

Almost as soon as this exchange happened an uncomfortable pressure hit my bladder and I sat up in a split second. Making a grimace, I said, “I have to go to the bathroom, I'll be right back.” And threw the covers off of my bare body.

“Fuck,” I whispered, feeling the cold hit me like a dozen ice cubes as I attempted to cover myself and search for my clothes.

I could hear Harry laughing behind me.

“Where are my clothes...?” I muttered, my arms wrapped around myself as I frantically searched on the floor.

As my hand was brushing underneath the bed, I felt a shirt land on my face, blinding my vision. “Here, take mine,” Harry chuckled and I looked up in time to catch a glimpse of his toned behind climbing back in the bed. A blush hit my cheeks as I quickly pushed my head through the neck and practically ran to the bathroom, trying to hide my embarrassment.

Harry's laugh followed me through the closed door. “Jules, don't be embarrassed, it's not like I haven't seen you before.”

“Shut up,” I snapped back, followed by another round of soft laughter from the other side of the wall.

When I came out of the bathroom only clad in Harry's black shirt, he had just slipped a pair of sweatpants over his hips. “I left these here a couple months ago,” he explained, giving me a smile before walking into the hallway.

I followed him into my kitchen, where he began to pull items from the fridge.

“Do you want me to make some eggs?” I asked, getting a reply of eye rolling in return. I scoffed. “What's so wrong with my eggs?”

As he set the egg carton on the counter, he eyed me knowingly. “What isn't wrong with your eggs?” he retorted.

I swatted him playfully. “Hey, be nice to my cooking.”

He scoffed only to ignore my requests of cooking and taking it upon himself to heat up the stove. Pulling a tea kettle from the bottom drawer, Harry slid it over to me an unspoken agreement between us as I began to fill water into the pot.

It was the weirdest feeling how unbelievably normal this exchange felt between us. The trade of laughter and easy conversation as he made breakfast shirtless and I started a cup of tea. It was everything I was afraid of losing in these past few weeks. The only difference being the small bump hidden beneath my shirt and the portion of my heart that had been handed over to him.

As I eased the tea bags into the boiling water, I glanced out of the corner of my eye to see Harry's gaze locked onto me, his sight wondering down to the shirt covering my stomach. I bit back a smile. “You can stop staring now, Mr. Styles,” I scolded lightly, hearing the release of his breath at being caught and the redness of a blush underneath his jaw line.

He shook his head, letting out a chuckle as he pushed eggs around the skillet.

“I don't want to ruin the mood...” he started, a regrettable layer to his tone. “but you know we have to talk about this sooner or later.”

I nodded, pouring tea into mugs before bringing them to the small wooden table. “I know.” I grabbed forks and watched as Harry set the plates down in front of one another, watching me patiently.

I sat down in front of him, my hands in my lap. “Let's talk then,” I said as he lowered himself down in the chair.

The first few moments were silent besides the scrape of our forks against the plates, my eyes lowered as Harry began to gather his thoughts.

“I'm going to break it off with Elaine.”

My head snapped up at his words. Disbelief and shock evident on my features. “Harry...” I breathed, not sure to scold him for that or to stand up and cheer.

He shook his head, halting me from any further reaction. “It's not going to work between us. All of the wedding and life planning is enough to prove that. I'm not what she needs— and I don't particularly want to be either.” He shrugged his broad shoulders and looked down.

“Okay,” I said under my breath, afraid that if I spoke too loud this would no longer be real.

He nodded as if the first part of his decisions were over. “We should go ahead and tell our parents also. I know that my mum and Gem should be aware that the wedding is off and that…  you're pregnant,” he continued. “Our mums have always been close so they should be able to help each other through this.” Harry, always thinking of others.

I nodded in agreement. “That's true.” I thought of my mid-week trip to Holmes Chapel and the relief I felt at seeing my mother’s face. “My mother already knows, but not that you're the father.”

“You told her? When?” he asked.

“When I went back to Holmes for a few days,” I replied. “I didn't know what to do… I had to tell my mum. She scheduled me an appointment with a really nice OBGYN for the pregnancy if I couldn’t find one in London I liked.”

Harry's eyebrows came together in frustration. “You've already had a doctor's appointment?”

I nodded.

“What did she say? Did I miss anything?” he asked, setting down his fork to give me his full attention.

I smiled at his eagerness. “No, nothing much. She just went over normal procedure of all the boring health stuff. She did, although, prescribe me anxiety medicine for the panic attacks.” I tried to nonchalantly throw the last part in there, hoping he wouldn't want to talk anymore about that issue.

“From now on I want to be at every doctor's appointment,” he demanded, his tone harsh, with a undertone of desperation. As if to almost catch himself for his rudeness he slid in a “please” in the end, his cheeks turning a bit pink.

“I promise,” I told him, giving him a sincere smile.

He nodded. “Okay. Thank you.”

Harry continued, “The next thing I needed to talk to you about is I'm going to have to tell management about what is going on. I don't really want this getting out to the public because I know you'll be attacked from the press and fans about carrying my baby and... You understand, don't you?”

Without hesitation, I replied, “Of course.” I did get it. Harry only wanted to protect me and the baby and I couldn't be offended by that. No way did I want to be in the spotlight more than just “Harry's friend”. I’ve seen how that public attention had destroyed relationships for him before they even started. Maybe one day I would be ready for that shift, but with the emotional stability that came along with these last few weeks, it would have to be a slow transition.

We ate breakfast together, the conversation going back to a lighter topic. Eventually, Harry had to get dressed and head back to his place, saying he needed to talk to Elaine as soon as possible.

We stood at my front door, me still in his shirt and shorts while he was in his sweats and a jacket.

“Call me if you need anything— I mean it,” he said sternly, his eyes focused on my face to push his sincerity.

I laughed. “Yes, sir. I promise,” I replied. “Good luck with Elaine. You call me if you need anything too, I can get a few punches in if I need.” I fake cracked my knuckles as he rolled his eyes.

“I'm serious,” he said, leaning down to press a kiss to my cheek. “Call me if anything remotely changes. If not, then I'll be in touch later tonight.”

I smiled, waving a goodbye as I watched him walk out the door to his car, the unforgiving cold biting my bare toes and blowing smoke around my nostrils. As his car drove away, I felt like for the first time in a long while… I could take a full breath.

…

Harry's P.O.V

There's a lot of things that will imprint itself to the inside of your eyelids. A little tattoo of a memory inked in your mind to mark a chapter of your life. Like waking up to my best friend lying next to me this morning— looking back on the night before and realizing that I might not have been as drunk as I led her to believe I was. Or the way the sunlight reflected off her round cerulean irises that were practically begging me to pull her back under the duvet into our safe cocoon.

Another one of those little things that imprinted itself into my memory was the glare of pure disdain that I was given by Elaine as I walked back into my house that next morning.

Her eyes cutting through every part of me as if she could actually stun me with them. The daggers embedding themselves into my skin as I dropped my keys onto the counter.

“Where were you last night?” she demanded when she realized I was going to offer no explanation or apology.

I was glad my back was turned to her as I said a simple, “Julia's” to hide the smirk that found itself on my lips at her name on my tongue.

She scoffed. “Seriously? That's what you're going to say? Are you trying to make me jealous— because it's not working.”

I sighed. “I'm not trying to do anything, Elaine. It's the truth,” I said, exhaustion already clear in my voice. I proceeded to untie my boots, her eyes on my every move as I pushed them to the side of the hallway. Moving past her, I began towards my room.

“Where are you going?” she demanded.

“To take a shower.”

“Seriously? We need to talk!” she screamed, her feet running to keep up with my intentional long strides.

When I reached my bedroom, I turned on my heel to face her. “Yeah, we really do,” I muttered, running a hand down my face.

She put a hand on her hip, her eyebrow arching as she expected me to continue.

I clenched my jaw, thinking through my next words. How they changed everything for me—and how they would change everything for Elaine as well.

“Julia's pregnant.”

Elaine shrugged as if this didn't faze her, as if didn't just alter my entire life. “So? What does this have to do with us and our problems right now, Harry?”

I narrowed my eyes at her, expecting it to be obvious. “Elaine, she's pregnant...” I know I was a dick. I know I wasn’t the best fiancée in the world. I also know that Elaine has put me through shit as well—but it didn’t excuse the fact that I had cheated on her. It didn’t push away the wave of nausea that followed the shame. I wasn’t ashamed of loving Julia. I was fucking ashamed of how I acted. How much hell I had put both these women through.

She groaned. “Harry, I'm sorry but I don't know how this surprises you,” she said sharply. “look at her. She's in college and lives alone, you don't seriously believe that she doesn't sleep her way through that university.”

This time my jaw dropped and my fists clenched and I'm not exactly sure how I maintained my steady tone as I said, “She's pregnant with my child.”

Her eyes stayed on me, steady and calm and I thought for a second that I must not have said what I thought I said, because there was no way she was just ignoring this.

“So that's what's been going on,” she replied, her voice low, calm and very much lethal. “you've been fucking her all this time instead of giving a shit about our wedding.”

I shook my head. “No, that's actually not what's been going on-”

She cut me off as if she didn't hear me. “Well you know what, Harry!” she screamed, her entire body shaking with anger. “you should really go and get checked for an STD because God knows that slut has been fucking you and twelve others!”

I choked on my breath, trying so hard to keep my hands by my sides. How dare she say something like that about Julia. “You're really going to say that about her? She has been there for me when no one else has- more than you ever could dream of! Don't think I don't know about you coming onto all my friends, Elaine! Word gets around pretty fast,” I growled.

She scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Whatever! You want to go live a little happy life with a little perfect family with that home wrecker— go ahead. Just remember that I didn't get myself knocked up just because I was scared of losing you to another woman—because that's just pathetic.” She emphasized every single syllable of her sentence, looking me straight in the eye as if daring me to do something about it, daring me to push my fist through the wall to the right side of her head.

As she turned on her heel and walked out of my eyesight, I took the biggest breaths of my lifetime. Inhale, exhale, inhale, exhale. My body shook with anger and I saw red as I heard the front door slam shut upon her exit.

Julia's P.O.V

“Why haven't you been answering my calls?”

That was the first thing I heard when I opened the door to a wind disheveled Jeff Azoff.

“Uh- I uh-” I started, trying to gather my thoughts as he walked past me, shaking the sleet off his expensive coat and running a hand through his dark hair.

I cleared my throat. “Hi to you too,” I finally replied.

He rolled his eyes. “Julia, I've been worried sick. Harry told me what happened, and I knew he didn't have the balls to check in on you and no one had heard anything from you. Why haven't you been answering my calls? All you had to do was send back a simple text saying you were fine—”

I held up my hands in surrender, letting out a simple chuckle. “Jeff, slow down. I'm fine, everything is... good,” I breathed.

His eyebrows met with a frown. “Good?” he questioned in confusion, his hand frozen in midair from dramatically lecturing me only moments ago.

I nodded in confirmation, a small smile following the thoughts of this morning and the normalcy that had surrounded us. Harry and I could easily fall into this pattern of waking up next to each other and making small talk over a cup of tea and eggs. “Good,” I whispered.

Jeff narrowed his eyes at me, backing up to take a seat on the edge of my couch, resting his elbows on his knees. “Can you explain what you mean by that?” he asked, his hand stroking his jaw.

I closed the open front door, leaning against the frame. “Yeah, I will explain everything,” I told him. “Do you want some tea, though? You look a bit cold.”

He rolled his eyes at my hospitality. “Don't mother me,” he mocked playfully.

I dropped my jaw. “Are you seriously going to start throwing mum jokes at me?” I let out a little laugh and put my hands on my hips.

Jeff put his hands up in the air, leaning back against the couch and folding his arms underneath his head, he propped his feet up on my glass coffee table, crossing the ankles.

I shook my head, walking into the kitchen and throwing a, “and get your feet off my table, Azoff” over my shoulder.

I could hear his laugh following me from the living room as I grabbed two mugs of tea, filling them to the brim with the steaming water.

“You said it, not me,” he replied when I returned, giving me a smirk when I rolled my eyes and handed him the cup. “Now, please explain.”

I sat down at the other end of the couch, crossing my legs beneath me. “Only because you said please,” I told him over the brim of my cup. “Let's just say he came by last night... drunk.”

“Drunk?”

I nodded. “Yeah, I know, right?” I let out a little laugh at the memory of drunk Harry. “Drunk enough to tell me he was sorry and let me know how hurt he was.”

“And...?” Jeff prodded me when I didn't go any further.

I gave him a mischievous look. “And?” I repeated, taking a sip of the burning tea.

He groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. “You did not,” was all he said.

I bit my lip, nodding.

Jeff opened his mouth- probably to reprimand me, no doubt- when there was a short knock on my door, the hinges squeaking as it opened a second later.

“You should really keep that locked—” Harry started, pausing when he saw Jeff and I on the couch. “What's going on?” he asked, his eyes turning to concrete as they looked between us.

“Jeff just dropped by to see how I was,” I told him, taking a sip of my tea and noting the stoney glare he was giving us.

His jaw hardened. “Just... dropped by? Why?” I caught glimpse of his clenched fists at the sides of his body.

I shook my head, straightening up in my seat. “Harry, you're looking at this all wrong-”

“No!” he shouted, causing me to flinch back in the couch. “How come that every time something remotely goes wrong Jeff is always there, huh? When I'm a dick, Jeff's there to pick up the little pieces. It's not fair, Jules! I'm supposed to be your best friend!”

Jeff set his cup down, standing to his full height. “Harry,” he said, putting his hands up. “I think you're reading into this wrong.”

“No, I'm not!” Harry roared back, running his hand through his hair. “You knew about the pregnancy first... My own baby...” he muttered.

I stood up immediately, walking quickly over to him and putting my hands on the sides of his large shoulders. “Harry,” I whispered. “I already told you I was sorry about that, it was just situation of circumstance that he found out about it first.”

He sighed, dropping his face into his hands. “I know... I know, I'm sorry. I'm just...” He shook his head, dropping his hands to look up at the ceiling. “Elaine and I just broke up, I think, and she said some things that just really pissed me off and... I just took it out on you two. I'm sorry.” His Adam's apple bobbed as he swallowed and looked at me and Jeff sincerely.

I let go of his shoulders and took a step back. “It's okay, I understand,” I told him, trying to catch his eye that was seemingly avoiding me now. “Do you want to talk about it?”

He shook his head. “No... No, it's fine. I just need to calm down,” he sighed and walked over to the couch to fall backwards, defeated.

“I'll get you some tea,” I replied, wringing my hands together to keep them busy.

As I walked into the kitchen, I could hear Jeff's low voice murmur, “Don't be mad at her because I'm here.”

Harry sighed. “I'm not, I just don't want to say the wrong thing and mess it up again.”

“At least let her know that you aren't angry.”

I bit my lip and grabbed another cup of tea, walking back into the other room where two pairs of expecting eyes fell on me.

“Here,” I said, offering the mug with the ironic words of “be happy” sketched on the side to Harry before sitting down next to him.

“Thanks,” he muttered, not looking at me.

“So...” Jeff breathed. “are you and Elaine officially done?”

I inwardly groaned at the subject of her.

Harry's eyes flicked over to me for a split second. “I think so... She seemed pretty done when I told her Julia was pregnant.”

“You told her I was pregnant?” I asked, astounded.

He nodded, glancing at me from the corner of his eye. “Yeah... why wouldn't I?”

I sighed. “Well... I mean- didn't you want to keep it on the down low? It just seems that she would leak it to the press or something.”

Harry shook his head. “No, she wouldn't do that. I mean, yeah, she's pretty pissed off, but she wouldn't want people to know that she was cheated on.” He gulped.

Jeff rolled his eyes. “You said yourself that people change,” he said.

Harry groaned, throwing his head back. “Can we not talk about this?”

“Whatever,” Jeff replied, reaching into his pocket to pull out his phone. He cursed under his breath. “I forgot Glenne was cooking tonight. Sorry to leave you two hanging, I know you need a referee most of the time but I guess you can go one night without killing each other, right?” He grabbed his jacket from the side of the couch.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Yeah, yeah. You're whipped, lad,” he said back.

Jeff paused by the open door, jaw unhinged. “I'm whipped?” he repeated incredulously.

Harry lifted up his middle finger as Jeff rolled his eyes.

“I'm gone, you two have a... eh good night,” he said with a wink before, closing the door behind him.

Harry stood to slide the locks back into place.

“Why are you so quiet?” I asked, when the silence was too unbearable. “Are you mad at me?”

Harry turned to look at me, his green eyes shining with care. “No... no I’m not. I'm sorry if it seems that way. I just have a lot on my mind.”

I nodded solemnly. “It's alright.” I wanted him to talk to me about it— just like he used to.

He took a deep breath and sat down in front of me, grabbing my chin between his fingers. “Elaine just said a few things about you that stirred me up a bit... but everything's good.”

I couldn't help myself. I leaned forward and pressed a lingering kiss to his lips, holding them in place for a few desperate seconds as he hummed. “Good?” I murmured.

I felt his lips stretch into a small smile beneath mine. “Yeah, good,” he whispered and kissed me again.

I pulled back from Harry, sadly extracting my mouth from his. “I don't mean to be a pest but... Are you sure you don't want to talk about it? You can still talk to me like your friend, it doesn't have to be... whatever we are right now.” I looked down and blushed, embarrassed that I didn't know the right term for it.

He rubbed his thumb across the heated part of my cheek. “Julia is blushing... Look at that,” he laughed in amusement.

I rolled my eyes. “Fuck you, Styles.”

He pressed a slow and very lingering kiss to my cheekbone where the scarlet was beginning to die down. “And I know I can talk to you about it,” he whispered against my skin. “and that's enough for right now.”

I nodded, closing my eyes against the heat of his body near to mine. “Alright,” I murmured.

“I just want to be with you tonight,” he said while my heart skipped beats. “Like old times. Can we have a Buffy marathon?”

A smile broke itself out across my face before I could stop it, causing me to nod quickly in reply. “Yes,” I told him. “I'll start the pizza rolls.”

And I did.

We pulled all my blankets and pillows out that we could find and laid them on the floor in a makeshift cushion. Turning the TV on our favorite season of Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Harry and I sprawled out on the floor with the smell of freshly cooked pizza rolls rolling through the air.

We weren't touching at the moment, his body laying a far amount of two feet from me on the blankets. I didn't want to push him. I knew he had just broken up with Elaine and I didn't expect him to suddenly go and marry me. I was being patient and I was perfectly content at taking things slowly- in a way that is, we had just slept together the night before.

He hadn't said much since we agreed to make it like old times tonight and I knew that there was so much going on in his mind by the faraway look he often had. It worried me, no doubt.

“Have you told Jeff?” I asked, my eyes on the television.

There was beat of silence and I knew he didn't know what I was talking about. “About what?”

“You know... about what you told me last night,” I implied, hoping he would understand.

He sighed. “Jules, I said a lot of things last night.”

I grimaced. “Ouch,” I muttered. That actually kind of hurt.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw him lift himself to his elbows, eyes wide. “No... No, no, no,” he said shaking his head. He cursed under his breath. “That's not what I meant at all.”

“Well did you mean anything at all last night is the real question,” I whispered, not wanting to pick a fight with him

“Of course I meant everything I said last night,” he said without missing a beat.

“Even about taking a break from the band?” I asked, looking at him.

His jaw clenched, his steady eyes wavering. “Maybe not that.”

I pursed my lips, looking back to the TV screen. Of course, of course he didn't even tell me the truth last night. What was I supposed to believe now?

He sat up all the way, his body facing me completely. “Look at me,” he demanded in a soft tone, obviously trying to get my attention but realizing that I was upset.

I lazily rolled my head to the side.

“I meant what I said about being a father,” he said. “and about loving you.”

I didn't reply.

“But- I don't know if I thoroughly explained what I meant by 'break from the band',” he finished.

I nodded.

He put his head in his hands. “I'm sorry I always say the wrong thing... You have to realize that being like this with you is all very new to me. It's almost if I don't know how to act around you.”

I frowned, pulling myself up to a sitting position. “Harry...” I murmured, pushing his chin up so he could see me. “I'm still me. You're still you. Nothing's changed. We've just... opened our eyes to what's always been there.” I swallowed. “Please don't think you have to be a different person for me. I'm still the Julia who wore that ugly plaid skirt to school.”

He let out a little laugh then shook his head. “But you're not,” he murmured.

I raised an eyebrow.

His eyes left my face to rake down my body. “You're not,” he repeated. “Somehow you've always been changing. I just didn't want to believe it.”

I smiled. “If we are talking about puberty then, please, take a look at you.” I playfully squeezed his upper arm, loving the feeling of his muscles under my fingertips. “Fuck, Harry,” I signed dramatically “... I would have never thought you'd turn out this— this...”

“This?” he prodded.

I winked at him, laughing at the way it sounded in mouth as I tried to keep a straight face. “Sexy.”

He laughed with me as I playfully shoved him away. He caught my wrist, though, pulling me towards him so I lost my balance and fell forwards as he fell back. I knew he did this on purpose- but I obviously wasn't complaining- because I landed on his chest with a thud, his hands encircling my wrists.

He smiled up at me. “I think you're sexy too.” He gave me a smirk.

“You do?” I asked, amused.

He nodded. “I like how you lighten the mood with a joke or sarcastic remark. Or how you wear a big sweater, but it fits your figure so nicely.” Right here, Harry Styles’ down to earth nature was showing through. “And your-”

“Killer ass?” I laughed, winking at him.

He leaned his head side to side as if weighing it. “I was going to say your eyes, but your 'killer ass’ is a plus too.” He smirked, his hand traveling down to playfully squeeze my backside.

I let out a squeak. “Harry Styles,” I reprimanded. “be a gentleman.”

He pushed me up gently so I wasn't leaning completely onto him. “I actually am. You don't know what more I'd like to do with that ass of yours.” Before I could utter a reply to this, he pushed me up further. “Now get off of your stomach, that can hardly be good for the baby.”

I rolled off him with an oomph when I hit the floor. “Fine then.” I rolled my eyes, pushing myself off his side so I was further away from him.

“That doesn't mean I don't want you by me...” he groaned, wrapping his arm around my shoulders and pulling me to his side once again, my hand resting gently on his stomach.

“I don't want you to think that I wanted you to quit your career,” I told him when I settled further into the blankets and Harry. “I didn't think you meant it in the first place, that's why I brought it up.”

He nodded. “I'm sorry I said that, my emotions were at a brink.”

“Mine were too,” I murmured.

He looked thoughtful for a moment before, “I really mean that I want to do what it takes to be here for this baby—even if it means changing the way I go through life.”

I felt his hand that was snaked around my back, run its fingers through my hair, gently pulling on the strands. “Do you want to stay over tonight?” I asked, my voice muffled into his shirt.

“Thought you'd never ask,” he chuckled, his laughter rumbling in my ear. “Although, I'd prefer your bed than this floor.”

I peered up at him, eyebrows furrowed. “You've always been welcomed in my bed.” I thought of the multiple times he had been over and slept on the couch or the piled high blankets in my living room.

He cocked an eyebrow.

“I didn't mean it like that, you goober.” I rolled my eyes. “although, that's greatly appreciated.” I added with a smirk followed by more chuckling from Harry.

After a couple beats of silence, Harry spoke up. “Do you want to go to Holmes Chapel tomorrow and tell my parents?”

I felt my heart skip a beat in my chest at the idea of the conversation. “Not in particularly no,” I muttered. “but it needs to be done so I guess we should. I just remembered, though, that I have classes in the morning, last session before we part for winter break. So if you want to leave after we can?”

He nodded, another stroke of his hand through my hair following. “Yeah, that's fine. I can drive us and we can stay up for the night if you'd like.”

I felt my eyelids getting heavier at the drunken way his hand made its way through my hair. “Yes,” I murmured, “that'd be really nice.”

The sound of his heart played itself through my dreams that night.

A/N: I’m very happy w/ where this story is. It could very easily end here with no fuss or loose ends. I do have plenty more written, so if you’re still wanting more of Harry and Julia, let me know. If you think this a good end point, let me know too! Thank you all for your love and support of this story:)

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[huntertales]

Preview: The Smallest Coffins Are The Heaviest. (I Think I’m Gonna Like It Here S09E01)

Episode Summary: The Winchesters are left in a frantic state after the reader collapses, setting off a chain reaction of events with deadly consequences. Out of desperation, Dean sends out a prayer and meets an angel named Ezekiel, both of them make a unorthodox benefiting both parties while the reader fights for her life. Pairing: Dean Winchester x Reader Episode Warning: Heavy angst, mentions of childbirth, stillbirth aftermath, character death(s), hints of depression. Word Count: 2,395.

Previous Part | Supernatural Rewrite Masterlist

They were calling it a meteor shower. You scrolled through an endless feed of news articles and social media buzz about the phenomenon that was happening all over the world. Pictures upon pictures being posted on every platform, short videos uploaded by people who captured streaks of white light illuminating the night sky. During your search through the unexpected natural event, you couldn't find anything about reports of bodies crashing to the ground at hundreds of miles per hour. Maybe even thousands? Plummeting to Earth after getting thrown out of their heavenly home, their wings ripped from their bodies. You didn’t know the consequences just yet about what this meant for Cas and the other angels. Your gut told you it wasn’t going to be the slightest bit pretty. It never was when it came to these kind of things. 

You placed your phone with the screen down on the leather seat for a moment and back around at your familiar, comforting surroundings; the Impala driving in the darkness of the night, Dean behind the wheel and Sam sitting in the passenger seat beside his brother. The three of you knew the truth about what happened all over the world not that long ago. It wasn't a meteor shower, it was angels falling from heaven. You let out a heavy sigh from the situation that fell into your lap. Hell was your number one problem not that long ago, but now that you had to drop that, heaven quickly took the empty slot. No rest for the wicked. They wouldn't let you even catch your breath before throwing you another swing.

"This makes no sense. I mean, how many angels fell—hundreds, thousands even? And nobody sees anything. This is...Look at this." You leaned forward in your seat and stretched your arm out to show Sam the article you were reading, along with a video attached at the end showing the sight seen all around the world. "They're calling it a meteor shower. Seriously?" Dean merely glanced over at the screen for a moment, not wanting to risk the chance of taking his eyes off the road for too long. Sam nodded his head after taking one look before returning his back onto the road. You noticed both of them weren't listening to what you were saying, occupied with their own personal thoughts. "What's going on, guys? You okay?"

"Us? Yes. We're fine." Dean answered for himself and his brother. You retracted your arm and dropped it back down to your lap after you returned back to your seat. You could see right through their flimsy response. "It's just—"

“It’s just we got a major freakin’ crap fest on our hands. Yeah, tell me about it.” You finished the presumption Dean was having about this whole situation, shifting around slightly in your seat to get more comfortable. “Thousands of superpowered dicks touching down, and we got no idea where to start.”

“Angels aren’t our problem right now, Y/N.” Sam said. The tone of his voice was solemn. It seemed as if he was trying to break some bad news to you, trying to figure out the right way. Something he was afraid to say. You wondered what was so important at a time like this. “Or demons, or Metatron, or whatever the hell happened to Cas.”

“Why? Because we hugged it out in that church like some big family and now we’re gonna go to Disneyland?” You asked them in a sarcastic tone. You shook your head slightly from how they were being. Nothing was as important as what you witnessed outside of the church. “Dean, you said it yourself—we’re not gonna sleep till this is done.”

“I know.” Dean muttered. He regretted the words you were throwing back in his face. It wasn’t like him to lose focus in the little details of the aftermath of abandoning the demon trials than the bigger problem you had in front of you. Angels falling from the sky was more important than anything lingering in the older Winchester’s mind right now. You didn’t realize it was more grave, more personal. Maybe you just didn’t want to realize the truth yourself. 

“So, what’s the problem?” You asked the both of them. 

The boys exchanged a glance between one another, suddenly reluctant to tell you the truth you were pressuring them for. There wasn’t much time to tell you the truth. They thought if anyone was to break the news it was them. The two people who you trusted out of anyone in the world. It was the reason why they were here in the first place. Why you were traveling down some back road in the Impala. Because all of this was a comfort. Some kind of way for your mind to cushion the blow. But nothing could prepare you for the truth. The consequences of your own actions you refused to believe were possible.

“You.” Sam’s answer made you look at him a bit funny, not sure what he meant. He wasn’t laughing. The boys were stone, cold serious. “Look, there’s no easy way to say this, okay? But something happened back there in the church. And I don’t know what. I don’t know why—“

"You're dying, Y/N." Dean cut off his brother, tired of beating around the bush. He was always the one who liked to rip off the band aid instead of softening the blow. Tell you straight out how it was going to be. But even speaking those two words was the hardest thing he had to say. 

You found yourself responding with silence, and for a few seconds you couldn't do much, other than stare at the two men sitting in front of you. Hearing those words hit something inside of you. Almost as if they were forcing you to realize something you were trying not to believe. A piece of truth a part of your brain was trying to bury. Suddenly you felt...empty. Like something was missing. 

You looked down at your body to see that you were still wearing the same clothes you had on back at the church. Nothing was missing. But something still felt off. You pressed a hand against your stomach. For some reason you were expecting it to stick out, feel more rounder. But it felt like it always had your entire life. The sensation sent a rush of panic through your body. “You’re lying” was all you managed to respond with to the older WInchester’s haunting words.

+ + + 

A person can prepare themselves for just about anything. They can try and put on a face like they're ready for the worst life throws at them. Raise their child with the lessons they had to learn the hard way. Put them through hell to toughen them up, make them grow a thick skin so when the worst does eventually happen it's not as bad as they thought it was going to be. Soften the blow. Dean thought he was ready. He thought he was prepared for the worst. Dean's entire life felt like it was rock bottom, he stumbled and fell to the point where he felt like there was no end in sight. Sometimes he got little breaks. Other times he wondered if he would keep falling dowards for the rest of his life, never quite making the impact his entire life was bracing him for. And while he was ready for the other shoe to drop, the rug pulled out from underneath his feet, the idiot kept up the smallest bit of hope. 

Dean thought in the back of his mind that things might work out in the end. If he worked hard enough, kept a watchful eye on you and stopped you before you could push yourself past the point of no return that maybe things would be okay. And that's what kills a person's spirit. That little bit of hope in a time when you need it the most. A little faith. The wish that maybe things will be okay in the end. Maybe all of this was bad dream and Dean was going to wake up in bed, wrapped up in his arms on the morning you were ready to finish what you had set on accomplishing all these months. Maybe, just maybe, he could have stopped this from happening. 

The beeping of the heart monitor and the body lying in the hospital bed sobered him up from his personal thoughts. It reminded him of the harsh reality that had unfolded over the past day and a half was a nightmare come true. 

Everything happened so fast, decisions were made without even much of a thought. He couldn't stand it anymore. Being told they did everything they could. Being asked questions about what he wanted them to do. Dean nodded his head at the first suggestion they gave him. Whatever. He didn’t care. He didn’t want to think about it. While the logical part of his brain worked just enough to remind him that he might regret rushing through the process when he started thinking with a clear head, he didn’t care. He felt too numb to think of the future. Part of him felt like there was no point in having one if he was going to leave the hospital without you.

Dean grew up thinking about the kinds of things people got to have—getting married, settling down and having children, a career, even owning  house—those things were for normies. Those who didn't devout their life to hunting the supernatural, the monsters. Every part of Dean thought he wasn't cut out for even the slightest bit of that good stuff. Nobody was going to love him for who he was, and he tried to have a family that was beside him and his brother. A little slice of normalcy, a bit of his own happiness. It never worked out. Until you came into his life. 

You always broke his standards on what life should give him. You loved him for who he was, and even then some. You were willing to go to hell if it meant he would live. You'd give him the world on a string. Because you knew he would do the same. You wanted to give him a relationship than making him forget about the things he was raised to hint. You gave him a reason to look for the light at the end of the tunnel. For a little while life didn't seem that bad. You were going to close the gates of hell and lock away all those monsters that ruined your life. You and him were going to have a child, maybe even get married. Live a life you always talked about. You were going to accomplish that....You were. Past tense. Something that couldn’t be changed. A memory stuck in his mind forever. 

What remained of that dream turned into a living nightmare he couldn’t wake up from. 

Dean felt empty. And yet at the same time flooded with emotions that made it feel like he was drowning in his sorrows. All of this was his fault. He kept wondering what he could've done to change this outcome to something different. He sat in the hospital chair staring at the one person he would do anything for. He would switch places with you in a heartbeat if it meant you were alive. If you just let him do the trials all of this could have been avoided. 

Perhaps the gates of hell could have been shut for good. Or maybe you would’ve stopped him at the last second and it would be you sitting  in this chair staring at him in a comatose state, trying to figure out how to fix this. Or even finding the courage to say your goodbyes. Because you would still have a part of him to hold on to, and his brother to take care of you. Dean didn't even have that. All he was left with was guilt. The blood was on his hands. The death of his child was his fault. He forced himself to repeat the thought over and over again to stop himself thinking about other things. Things that were worse than the funeral arrangements. 

Something like how he felt the grip around his hand loosen when you were using every ounce of energy you had left to deliver a baby you were only going to be able to do so much with. Say your goodbyes and plan a proper burial. He wanted you to have that closure, to hear the words that none of this was your fault. No one had a clue this was how it was going to end. Dean begged for you to hold on a little longer. He couldn't go through losing two people in the span of minutes. It was hard enough to make funeral arrangements of your own newborn. He couldn't do the same for the woman he loved. Not again. Not for the second time. 

It was stupid to think that Dean was cut out to be a father. Every child he had or tried to take care of met the same fate. Why did he think this was going to turn out any different? Your child was doomed from the very beginning. In a twisted, self loathing sort of way, Dean said his goodbyes. To his child, to the chances of having something like this again. Because it was never going to work out. Life taught him another lesson. He made arrangements to have your child buried in the same cemetery his mother and your parents were. Mary Winchester's casket would be kept company by a small one. Maybe the baby was up in heaven, being taken care of by their grandparents. Hopefully someone was watching over the kid. Someone better than him. 

Dean knew there was more grave matters that required his attention. The sky was falling, he had no idea where the hell Cas was and if he was okay. He didn't even take into consideration how Sam was handling this situation. All Dean kept wondering was what he needed to do to fix this situation. He knew for a fact that him and his brother weren't leaving the hospital without you. Dean would do anything to get you back...anything.

[Next Part]

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(for you) i will try // Harry Styles Fic Exchange Short Story

A ex-lovers reunion ou where ex’s are ex’s for a reason, weddings are near-on soul destroying and Harry and Indigo together are just a massive cause for disaster ~ 17k

trigger warning: cheating, toxic relationships and alcohol abuse described. 

Indigo never predicted she’d be in this predicament – that her entire life could be flipped around in a measly 48 hours.

She never thought she would doubt everything about herself but now she did.

She never thought her career took precedence over her relationship.

She never thought that she would catch her girlfriend of two years cheating on her in their bed.

She never thought betrayal could cause this much pain.

And what may have topped it all, Indi never thought in a million years that she would agree to help Jack and his now–fiancé plan their surprise wedding for them with none other than Gemma’s little pop star of a brother  – who was a whole different subject of issues.

All Indigo knew was that she needed a drink and a cigarette – immediately.

i. let’s have a (surprise) wedding

It wasn’t the fact that social gatherings bothered me that put me off being here. It was the fact that it was the first time six years I had been back home. The whole village of Holmes Chapel seemed to be here in Mr and Mrs Twist’s house and all they wanted to know was when I would move back and settle down with a man and have kids with him. It was miserable enough to have those expectations put on you by your own parents, let alone the whole village. 

It’s also something nice to hear when you’ve just been dumped by your girlfriend (...well, ex-girlfriend, I suppose) two days ago. I craved nothing more than to rifle through my bag and pull out a pack of Malboro Gold, light up and inhale the ever-calming smoke that put my anxiety to ease. The e-cigarette I bought twenty minutes before leaving London would have to do. There was no way I was going to give my mother another reason to be on my case. Being a bisexual millennial was enough to make my mother to sprout grey hairs. I didn’t need to add being a closeted smoker to her stress list. The best I could do was a flimsy version of a healthy cigarette to keep my nicotine addiction at bay. 

The fiery orange skyline settled down into it’s dark violet dusk as I sneaked out to the veranda overlooking the back garden; trying my best to get a moment's peace from the party inside. Strawberry vapour filled my lungs as I dragged from the sleek black pen, wishing nothing more than to smoke whatever the hell I wanted back at my apartment in London. 

“I see you still haven’t quit smoking.” 

My body tensed as I felt his presence saunter closer. His sweet yet spicy smell seemed to overtake the lasting lingers of vapour. It was infuriating how it hadn’t changed since the last time I had seen him; almost like he wore it purposely just to piss me off. 

“Mind you,” He finally stopped by my side as I ignored him, looking out as far as I could see. “I suppose this is the healthier alternative.”

Rather than the sickly sweet vapour that had filled my lungs just moments before, annoyance replenished every fibre in my body. It was only something that he could do and he absolutely knew it. He was the only person in this entire universe that could flick this switch inside of me and he had great pleasure in doing so whenever he could get the chance. 

“Harry Styles. What a surprise.” 

“Really?” Harry chuckled as he turned, leaning against the wooden rail of the veranda and staring at no other than me. “You’re surprised to see me at my Mum’s house, at my sister’s birthday party.”

My silence spoke volumes. 

“If anything, it should me surprised to see you here. It’s been like, what – four years since you’ve been back here in Holmes Ch–”

“I didn't realise you kept count of my comings and goings Harry.” 

My eyes finally met his. Since the last time I had seen them in person three years ago, they had only grown into a richer forest green which knocked the wind out of me. His hair still held those chocolate curls that I ran my fingers through so many times before, it was impossible to keep count. I felt sick that these memories flashed back into my body in such a quick moment. Anxiety pulsated through my veins to the point where my fingertips were on fire. 

“Indigo Palmer,” Harry’s eyebrow arched upwards in smugness. “There’s no way I can’t help but keep my eyes on you and wherever you go.”

“Ugh, Harry!” I groaned. “You can’t just say that to me. Not anymore.” 

Harry’s eyes dropped mine own, slipping down to where his scuffed up boots crossed together. “You’re right.” His lips rolled inwards for a second, his shoulder jerking slightly. “Sorry.” 

The noise of Gemma’s party quietly bounded outside of Harry’s parents house, all while the back veranda offered us the mere silence of our breathing. It was something we had done many times before. Through all of these years that we had known each other, we could talk endlessly about everything and on the other hand, say nothing and appreciate what we had and what we had around us. Now, everything about him hurt me. 

“So where is Emily? I thought she would of been here.” Harry lifted his hand to scratch at the nape of his neck, a nervous tick he had ever since we were children. My throat instantly tightened as soon as I heard her name leave his lips. It was two parts of my world that I did not want to mix ever again. 

“W–we, uh… She…” My voice fumbled, trying to grasp at any sentence that would make what trying trying to say sound the tiniest bit better. 

“We’re not together anymore.”

“Oh,” Silence thumped in my ear drums. I watched as Harry’s eyebrows furrowed down, frown lines denting his smooth olive skin. 

“Sorry to hear that. What happened?” 

As hard as I fought, my eyes found themselves rolling at his ridiculous question. Who the hell did he think he was? My therapist? But as soon as Harry saw them roll, his eyes seemed to follow my lead and rolled back while he shook his head. 

“Look, you don’t have to tell me what’s gone on but it looks like you need to talk to someone.” Harry shrugged. 

“And that someone should be you? Just like old times then, yeah?” I scoffed maliciously. 

The wind rustled against the leaves as Harry thought for a second or two, before shrugging his shoulders once more.

“Well, yeah. Why not talk to me? You always used to talk to me.”

Inhaling deeply, I looked him once more dead in the eye. I hated doing that because all I saw was trust and love every time I lost myself in those eyes of his. That’s why I hadn’t looked him in the eye the last time I saw him and it was all it took for me to break down.

“S–she, uh… She thought I spent too much time at work and focusing on being an associate at the firm I’m currently at. Apparently that qualifies her to… cheat on me I suppose.”

“Fuck,” Harry whispered so quietly, I almost never heard him. “That’s so shit, Dig. I’m really sorry she did that to you.” 

Tears welled in my eyes while guilt instantly poured in my lungs. I had felt this three years ago but it still felt fresh –  a old wound reopened. I suppose I deserved it. I finally got my karma. I looked up to the sky where the stars were beginning to peak from the night sky, blinking as hard as I could to get rid of them. 

“Y–yeah, it only happened a few days ago.” I sniffed. “So if you can like– not tell anyone? That would be great. Mum’s already on my case and I just don’t have the energy to deal with this situation, let alone have her meddle in it.” 

Harry’s head nodded profusely. “Yep, sure. You got it. No problem at all. In fact, consider this–”

Before Harry could continue his rambunctious rambling, the door behind me creaked open. Instantly turning around, I watched as Jack and Gemma stumbled out of the house giddily; not realising that their younger siblings were also catching a moments peace on the back veranda until Harry coughed aloud. 

“Oh! Here’s where you two have been hiding.” Gemma clapped her hands together. “We’ve been looking for you.”

Turning around, I leaned against the rail beside Harry trying my hardest to discreetly slip my hand that held the e-cigarette behind his back. Thankfully Harry had caught on and shuffled forward slightly so I could do so. 

“Well, you found us!” The weight of Harry’s arm suddenly dropped onto my shoulders, pulling me closer into his side. “What’s going on?”

Jack pulled one of the chairs that sat by the back door, scraping its legs against the outdoor tile before plonking his arse in it. 

“Need to talk to ya about the wedding.” Jack drunkenly mumbled as he pulled a giggly Gemma down to sit in his lap. 

“What wedding?” 

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion. I looked at Harry to see if he knew what in the world my brother was talking about but he looked just as confused as I did. 

“Our wedding.” Jack shrugged, wrapping his arms around Gemma’s waist. “Mine and Gem’s. You’d both know that if you were inside five minutes ago.”

With a wide grin, Gemma held out her hand that had a small but sparkly diamond on her ring finger that shimmered despite the lack of light. “Isn’t it pretty?”

“It’s gorgeous Gem.” A shocked smile grew on my face. 

I hated how miserable I felt. I should have been ecstatic that my brother and his long-time girlfriend were finally getting married. I put on a mask and played my part despite feeling like I was rotting from the inside out. 

“Congratulations you two.” 

“Yeah, Congrats.” Harry beamed, shaking Jack’s hand before leaning over and kissing Gemma’s cheek. “It’s about bloody time!” 

“Yeah, yeah. We’re getting there.” Jack grinned. “Anyways, we came to talk to you about the wedding.” 

“We want to have a surprise wedding!” Gemma jumped in, her grin reaching from ear to ear. 

“Uh,” my eyebrows furrowed. “I’m a bit confused. How do you expect to have a surprise wedding when you’ve just told everyone in that house you’re getting married?”

“Well, that’s kinda where you two come in.” Gemma began to explain. “We’re wanting to throw a party in a month’s time and while everyone else will be thinking it’s an engagement party, we will surprise them with it being the actual wedding ceremony!” 

Before Harry and I could object (or say anything really), Jack piped up. “What Gem’s trying to ask is if you’ll plan our wedding for us.”

‘We’ll pay you for your time and effort!” Gemma assured us. “It’s just, some of the best times we’ve had with each other have been at some of those parties you used to throw back when you two were together.”

“And honestly, if it weren’t for the two of you, Gem and I probably wouldn’t be together. There’s no one else that we trust more than you two to do this.” Jack shrugged as Gemma looked at us with hope beaming from her eyes, making me feel worse by the second. 

I took one look at Harry who looked just as unsure as I felt but I knew him. I knew he would do anything for them and while I would have like to say I would too, I wasn’t entirely sure I could. 

Harry looked down for a second before looking at me, searching for an answer I wasn’t sure I could give. As soon as the corner of his mouth pulled up, revealing a small smile that would be a true smile truly for the first time in 48 hours, I knew what his answer would be… what our answer will be.

“Sure. We’ll plan your wedding.” 

ii. let’s get a game plan together

It was a rare occasion for the sun to be out in London, so it was fair to say that I was making the most of it. Actually, a lot of people were. I sipped at my coffee as I sat outside of the nearly full café, watching people bustle by. My legs rarely felt the instant warmth of the sun and god was I loving it. It would have been great, if Harry Styles actually was on time for once. 

After learning about Jack and Gemma’s plans for their wedding which they were basically leaving Harry and I in control of, Harry and I had made a plan to meet a week later and get this underway. We only had a month to make this miracle happen for our siblings after all. 

Despite the street being filled with people, I instantly spotted Harry’s chocolate curls bounding towards me. If it wasn’t for the tiny blonde child in his arms, I swear I could have murdered Harry on the spot. 

“You’re late.” 

“Really?” Harry exasperated sarcastically. He somehow pulled the chair out from underneath the table with his foot, all while shooting me a very unimpressed look. “Nothing about the kid in my arms isn’t giving you any clue as to why I might be late?” 

“Nope.” I shrugged. “Absolutely none.”

The small girl giggled as Harry lowered her into the seat across from me, his nose instantly following the noise. 

“Alright, enough out of you cheeky-monkey.” His palm flattened her wispy strays of blonde hair  “What would you like to eat, huh?” She bit down lightly on her bottom lip, her wee eyebrows furrowing as she grew deep in thought. 

“A muffin please.”

“A muffin? A fruity one?”

“Yes, A muffin. I’ll pass on the fruity though.” The blonde girl nodded decidedly. “Chocolate will do.”

That sentence alone caused Harry to belt out a full-bodied laugh, to the point where his head tilted back, eyes shut closed with little crow's feet rippling on the outer sides and his palm grasping at his protruding belly. If people weren’t looking at Harry Styles before, they certainly were now. 

As Harry got over his laughing fit, wiping away y few stray tears that had rolled down his cheeks, he looked down once more at the girl. 

“You be good for Dig, okay? I’ll be back in a few.”

The curve of her ponytail bounced as she nodded profusely before Harry made his way into the cafè, ignoring all of the stunned looks others were giving him. I could only shake my head at him, trying my hardest to hold back the scowl that was threatening to appear. If it wasn’t for the kid staring wide eyed at me, I might have just let it appear. 

“So who might you be?” The little blonde thing grinned at me, two of her upper teeth and one on the bottom clearly missing from her smile. 

“I’m Lux!” 

“Oh.” I hadn’t been expecting that. 

The last time I had seen Lux, she had only just been a baby; Fast on her feet and hiding away from Harry and I any chance she got. The only reason the memory had stuck with me for this long was because Harry and I had literally lost her in the house for a solid hour and a half. 

It was one of the most frightening moments of my life. Here Harry and I were, naïve adults who thought they could look after a baby for the night and we literally lost a child that was under our care. Thank god she hadn’t been taken or had let herself outside! She probably had been laughing at us the whole time as she hid behind the bookshelf in the living room.

“We’ve actually met before.” 

“We have?” Lux gasped.

I nodded before taking another sip of my coffee. “You were just a baby the last time I saw you.” 

“That’s cool!” She threw me another grin. “Are you Uncle Harry’s friend?”

My lips pursed into a small frown as my eyebrows furrowed and nose scrunched up in thought. 

“Uh… kind of?”

“Oh.” Lux looked down at her lap before snapping back up towards me. “So is your name really Dig?”

“Excuse me?” I frowned once more in confusion.

“Is your name Dig? Because that’s what Uncle Harry’s been calling you today. It’s a little strange if you ask me.”

Inhaling deeply, I rolled my eyes at Harry’s idiocy. Of course he couldn’t just call me by my name properly, could he?

“No. I think that’s just Harry trying to be funny.” That comment seemed to pull another giggle from Lux. 

“He’s not very funny, is he?”

“No, he isn’t.” I agreed, giggling quietly along with her. “He’s the type of person you end up laughing at because he thinks he’s hilarious.”

Lux burst out laughing, which pulled a small smile out of me. Before she could add anything else, a chocolate muffin on a porcelain plate was slid in front of Lux. Both Lux and I looked up to see Harry holding a very unimpressed look. 

“Excuse me Dig but for your information, I am hilarious.” Harry placed a glass on orange juice in front of Lux before sitting in the chair next to her. “You know that.”

“You are not Harry. You are the opposite of–”

“So what’s your name then?” Lux cut in before I could finish insulting him. I was actually taken aback by it. 

“Oh,” I stammered. “My name’s Indigo but most people call me Indi.” I couldn’t help but snare at Harry who just rolled his eyes at me. 

“That’s a really nice name.” Lux smiled at me before she promptly turned towards Harry with a frown. “Why don’t you call her by her name? It’s pretty.”

“Because I’ve called her Dig for most of my life. I’m not going to stop now just because you say so.” Harry said as he pulled out his phone from the front pocket of his hoodie. “Now play a game on this while me and Dig sort somethings out, yeah?”

Lux happily took the iPhone out of his hand and tapped away to her heart's content. 

“You got that email from Gem, yeah? The one about–”

“What they want for the wedding and what they’ve already got sorted?” I finished Harry’s sentence off, irritation slowly seeping in my veins. “Of course I did. They also asked me to help me plan their wedding, not just you Harry.”

“Woah!” Harry leaned back slightly, eyes wide open in shock. Lux wearily looked over the phone screen, her eyes flicking between Harry and I before focusing on the game she was playing.  “That’s not what I meant Dig.” 

I knew that wasn’t what he meant. Truly; but I couldn’t help but have my guard up around him. The situation we were in was nothing like we were in before and I couldn’t understand why he was acting like we were best friends again. He had to know I wasn’t in the best state of mind.

“That’s how it sounded.”

From one look, I knew he wanted to argue back. His lips slightly pursed in a small scowl and his nose scrunched to the left. Having knowing Harry for as I had, I instantly picked up on his tells and I could only pray for the sake of Lux and I that he just kept his mouth shut for once. 

I slipped my notebook out from my handbag that sat on the only free chair at this table, flipping immediately to the pages where I already jotted a few notes and ideas down since Gemma and Jack had asked us to perform a miracle. 

“I think since they’ve already emailed through their guest list, we should just get a start on a booking a venue.” Despite the frown still etched on his face, Harry nodded in agreement as a waitress placed a coffee in front of him and another cup in front of me. We both mumbled our thanks to the waitress before getting back to the subject at hand. 

“We could just have it at Mum’s and Robin’s. Don’t have to book anything in advance and no one will think there will be a wedding happening if they turn up there.” Harry commented after he had taken a sip of his black coffee. “Everyone will just think it’s a generic engagement party.” 

Harry’s nose twitched when I sighed aloud. “They want our parents to be surprised as well H. The moment a set-up crew and catering turn up to your parents place, they’re suddenly in on the secret.” I shrugged. 

“And in my opinion, it’s probably a lot easier to book a venue that can cater for our needs and have everything all in one place than transport everything to your Mum’s and then take it all back. What do you think?” I left the ball in Harry’s court, trying my hardest to not make it seem like I was taking over as the project manager. We were doing this as a team. 

Harry sat there for a few moments before nodding to himself. “Yeah, I suppose you’re right. It was a right pain in the arse waiting on others to bring stuff to us and then wait for them to take it away.” 

A wave of relief overcame me when he had agreed with my suggestion. This whole wedding planning business wasn’t going to be an easy ride in the park but at least I could see he was trying too. 

“So where do you think we should go?” I asked Harry, ready to write down a list of venues to check out. 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip as he thought, a few silent minutes passing by. “I don’t think we should go with venues like Crewe Hall or Colshaw Hall. Seems a bit obvious to have a surprise wedding somewhere like that innit’?”

“Yeah,” I nodded in agreement. “You’re right.” 

“What about somewhere like Oak Tree of Peover? I went to Jamie-lee’s wedding there last August and it’s was pretty but not like – overwhelming y’know? It was very low-key.” Harry suggested as he stole a bit off of Lux’s barely touched muffin. 

“That’s a really good idea, H…” I said, quickly noting down The Oak Tree of Peover as a venue option. 

From memory, I remember it being a lovely venue for a wedding. The Oak-framed barn made it one of the most gorgeous treasures that Cheshire had to offer, overlooking the picturesque countryside that captured our little hometown perfectly. Ideas began popping off in my head, immediately spurring more venues around Holmes Chapel. 

“We should probably go do some research on more venues and shortlist the ones we like.” I suggested as I finished writing down the last venue idea I had. Harry nodded before taking a sip of his coffee. “And maybe go to HC next weekend and check out the venues we shortlist?”

“Cool,” I picked up my phone, immediately opening the trainline app to book a ticket back home. “Do you want me to book you a train ticket?”

“Uh, no thank you.” Harry shook his head. “I was thinking you and I could carpool up there.  Y’know, since we're both going to the same place to do the same thing.”

“I suppose that make sense. Ooooh! We can go to Dad’s and do the invitations to.” The pen dropped loudly onto my notebook, causing Lux to look up from Harry’s phone. “He’ll have everything we need to do it!”

“Can’t we just get them printed like normal people?” Harry groaned. “We’re already short on time as it is?”

“What’s the point of having a Dad that owns his own art supply store? He’ll love having you around.” 

“That doesn’t answer my question Dig.” Harry quipped. My shoulders dropped in disappointment. This wasn’t like him. Normally he would be all over this type of stuff. It used to be me that protested in time-wasting.

“Oh come on Harry! Dad will be thrilled! His daughter visiting him twice in the same month except with his most favourite ex of mine! He’ll love it! And he can help! Pleeeease H?” 

Harry chewed on his bottom lip, deep in thought with doubt written all over his face. 

“Look, I’m not budging on the handmade invitations. It’s something I want to do to make this wedding special. But if you don’t want to do that, that’s fine too. I’ll do them myself and you can research into some photographers and DJ’s maybe?” A sigh escaped from me. “Seems more down your alley anyways.” 

“Okay then. Sounds good.” Harry just shrugged his shoulders, slowly annoying me. It was like he almost didn't give a shit. I mean, of course he cared about Jack and Gemma’s wedding but when it concerned me and doing my bit to help create this wedding, he just… couldn’t care. I didn’t think that it would affect me so much. 

“Harry…” I pleaded. “Please work with me here. I’m trying my best.”

“I know you are.”

iii. let's (try) start the invitations

If it wasn’t the sun peaking through my half-shut curtains waking me up from my deep slumber, it was the birds that were happily chirping away in the tree outside my bedroom. Well, my childhood bedroom at my Dad’s. There was no chance of any birds chirping outside my flat in London.I ached from head to toe.

My body felt stiff as I lay in the measly king-single bed. I could only really narrow it down to a few reasons why that might of been. 

I had a non-stop day in the office working on the McNealson case yesterday, trying my hardest to get everything done before focusing solely Jack and Gemma’s wedding; but I had to spend a further 3 hours and 45 minutes making awkward conversation with Harry. Also, the argument I had with Emily minutes before Harry knocked on the flat door didn’t help. 

As soon as I stepped into the flat yesterday, I could tell Emily wanted to have another argument. She sat on the couch with her legs crossed at the ankle, nursing a half-empty glass of red wine with a scowl on her face. Now while we still lived together technically, we really didn’t. Since the moment I got back from Gemma’s birthday party in HC, I had avoided the flat like the plague. I hadn’t found it within myself to kick her out of my flat and I couldn’t tell you why. There was something about our relationship that made me act like I was clinging on to a drowning boat, hoping that it would keep me or rather our relationship afloat… but it was the suitcase that had finally sunk it.

“Where are you going?” Emily snided as I pulled my suitcase out of the storage cupboard in the lounge. 

“Back to HC.” I mumbled quietly, my lungs concaving out of the pure pain they felt. 

“Running away again yeah?” From the corner of my eye, I could see her scoff before finishing the last of her wine. “Don’t know why I’m surprised. You always run away, even to a place you haven’t been back to in six years.” 

“I don’t know what you expect me to do Em.” I couldn’t help but snap back. “You’re the one who cheated on me, remember?”

“Of course I remember Indigo! You haven’t let me forget it since.” She drunkenly yelled back. “What I want to know is when you’re going to get over it!”

My jaw dropped in shock. “Excuse me?” 

“You heard me the first time Indigo.” She slammed the wine glass back onto the coffee table. “When are we going to get back to normal? When are we going back to being Em and Indi?” 

I shook my head despite every part of me being stunned at what she was saying. “I’m not doing this now. I’ve got to pack before Harry gets here.”

This only sparked Emily’s fury. 

“Harry?!” She spat viciously. “As in Harry Styles?! Your pop star ex-boyfriend? That Harry?!”

“Jesus Christ Em.” My eyes bugged out at her outburst. “Why does that matter?”

“It matters because it’s him!” Emily nearly screamed. “He’s the only other person you’ve loved besides me, Indi! Can you honestly not see why I’m scared? You left him for me and now you’re just running back to him to spite me.”

“I am not Emily!”

“Yes you are!”

For the life of me, I couldn’t understand why Emily was nutting off at me, about Harry nonetheless. We were only carpooling. It just made sense to go there together. Besides, wasn’t she the one I caught cheating on me with another woman in our bed? Why was it all my fault? 

And then there was the knock on the flat door. Now it may well could have been Mrs Dowley from across the hall, ready to give us another growling for having an argument this late at night in which I totally agreed with, I had a feeling it might have been someone else that would have fueled Emily’s anger. 

It was obvious from the moment Harry knocked on the door that he had heard a decent part of our argument. I noticed his cheeks flushed red and was overall antsy about getting on the road from just his body language. Emily looked past me and just glared at him. Thankfully, I was that angry I didn’t even let him in the door. In fact, I left the empty suitcase sitting in the middle of the lounge. 

“You need to be gone by the time I get back on Monday, Em.” My mouth moved before I even realised I was speaking. “You and your stuff. I want it gone. I can’t deal with this anymore.” 

“I’m sorry, are you kicking me out of my own home?” Emily choked out, shock evident in the lack of breath she had. I don’t think she quite believed I’d be the one to kick her out. 

“My name is on the lease. You’re the one who cheated on me. This was my home before it was ours. You’re the one who’s got to go.” 

Silence was the only sound that could be heard. Tears threatened to burst over my inflamed cheeks. Harry stared on uncomfortably, trying to ignore what was happening in front of him. 

“If you’re that concerned about where you should stay, may I suggest you–“ 

“Just stop lawyer talking me Indi! Talk to me normally! We can work this out.” Emily pleaded. 

“I suggest you go to that slag whose face you were sitting on top of in our bed and ask if you can stay with her. Tell her that you ruined what was good here and now have nowhere else to go. But as far as I’m concerned, I don’t have to do anything for you anymore. I’m done. We’re done.”

Emily began to sob, tears rolling down her cheeks, begging me not to do this. As much as it hurt to see the girl that I had loved cry in front of me, the tiniest bit of relief made me feel like I could breathe again. 

“Jack is staying here for a few days while I’m away. You can leave your key with him. Don’t call me.” 

Before I could go back on the impulse decision I had just made, I slammed the door behind me, grabbed Harry’s wrist and began to drag him towards the elevator, mumbling a quick “Let’s go.” 

I probably pressed the elevator button six or seven times in a row, my fingers shaking as angry tears rolled down my cheeks. I just needed to get out of this building as soon as possible. I just couldn’t bare being in here any longer than I needed to.

“Hey, hey, hey…” 

Harry grabbed hold of my shaky hands, turning myself around to face him. His arm curled around the back of my head and suddenly my face was smothered in the confines of the crook of his neck, a place I used to consider a safety net years ago. 

“Shhh, you’re okay Dig. I promise.” 

It was like he knew exactly what I needed. I let out the deep breath I hadn’t realised what I had been holding. He had offered to go back into the flat and get some clothes for the weekend but I didn’t want him to face the wrath of Emily alone. Thankfully, I had left some spare clothes at Dad’s when I went up for Gemma’s birthday. 

In all honesty, I was thankful that Harry had turned up when he did. I’m not sure what I would have done if he hadn't. Everything about yesterday was just as traumatic if not more than when I caught Emily with another woman. No matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t stop thinking about it; about her; about the betrayal.

A loud bang from downstairs had broken my mental reliving of yesterday. Moments later, a hushed “Fuck!” could just be heard, causing me to forget my tragedy of a life for one second and bring the first genuine smile to my face in days. 

“Dad! I hope you’re making what I think you’re making!” If I knew my Dad as well as I did and from judging by all the racket coming from the kitchen, we were having his famous blueberry pancakes. Throwing the covers off, I made my way downstairs with a rumble in my stomach. 

“I’ve been craving these all week! I–” I immediately choked once I saw the mop of chocolate curls scarfing down a stack of my pancakes. Harry smirked as he felt my snarl from across the room. “What the fuck are you doing here?” 

“Prinny! That’s no way to talk to a guest.” Dad gasped in shock, taking one look over his shoulder to look Harry, whose smug expression still hadn’t left his big head. “Especially a scrawny pop star one at that.”

“Oi! I’m not scrawny!” Harry protested. “I’ve been working out… a lot!” 

My eyes couldn’t help but roll backwards at the both of them. There was a time where Harry used to be afraid coming to my Dad’s house, purely because my Dad was overly protective of his only daughter and young Harry was shagging her; and now here they were. The chummiest of buddies. Unbelievable.

“Why are you here eating my pancakes?” Glaring at Harry, I took a seat next to him before snatching the fork out of his hand. “Don’t you have your own Mum to make you your own pancakes?”

“For your information Prinny,” Before I could stab the fork into the fluffy pancakes on his plate, Harry suddenly snatched the fork back. My nose twitched as I cringed at the horrible nickname leave Harry’s mouth. “My Mum’s in London for a girls weekend with Gem. That’s why Jack’s been booted to your flat. So I’ve come to eat your Dad’s pancakes instead.” 

“God, I wish you two wouldn’t call me that. You know I hate it.” 

“It’s a wonderful name!” Dad stated with certainty. He slid a plate of my very own pancakes in front of me, handing me a fork so I could also gain some sustenance. “I put a lot of thought into that name when you were born.”

“It’s not that hard to put Princess and Indi together Dad. Anyway, that isn’t the point. The point is that I am a 24 year old woman and I shouldn’t have to be ridiculed by that ridiculous nam–” I tried to argue but before I could continue, a fork full of pancake was rather rudely shoved into my mouth. 

Harry tried to hold back his laugh but I could see his cheeks twitching. “Shut up and eat your pancakes, yeah? Your Dad and I don’t have time for this nonsense. We’ve got invitations to make and party venues to look at.”

“I’ve got to agree with young Harry here Prinny.” Dad thought to add his opinion, all for Harry to grin ear to ear. “We’ve got to get down to the art shop before ten if you don’t want to be caught with Harry by Mrs Birchingham. Who knows what rumours she’ll spread around Holmes Chapel if she catches you two in the same shop.”

“Yeah Prinny, we can’t have that.” Harry chided, getting his kicks from agreeing with my Dad and more so by annoying me. I was just glad he had changed his attitude within the week since I saw him last and oddly, it was rather nice to be sitting here at my Dad’s with his company and my favourite pancakes. 

iv. let’s find a venue to party in

“So I got the photographer, videographer and DJ booking confirmation just before.” Harry said as he chewed through his burrito, barbeque sauce slowly dripping down from the corner of his mouth. My eyes rolled as I lifted my hand up to his mouth, wiping away the brown sauce that was irritating me. 

“Oh,” I wiped the excess sauce onto the side of Harry’s jeans, as we walked towards the church. “Who’d you get then?”

Harry stumbled over his own feet, bumping into me slightly as he tried to correct himself. “One of Gem’s friends works for a photography company in Manchester and her colleagues is going to do the photography and videography.”

“You sure Gemma’s friend won’t find out. They’re both really adamant about people not finding out the wedding.”

“Yes, Indigo. I’m sure.” Harry’s chest rose as he deeply inhaled, letting out possibly the loudest sigh anyone on earth had heard in its entirety. “Madeleine and Seth are going to the job as freelance photographers, so the actual job doesn’t go through the company. That way Francesca won’t find out about the wedding.” 

“That’s good. What about the DJ?”

Harry’s nose scrunched slightly as he thought. “Well, there’s this guy James that Nick is kind of mentoring with the whole DJ-ing thing. He actually did a really great job at Nick’s New Years party so I thought I’d ask him and he said he’s good to go for the 27th.” Harry shrugged. “And I figure since Nick is invited, he can help out if anything goes wrong.” 

My neck immediately snapped towards him. “Are you expecting things to go wrong with him? Why on earth would you hire him if you think he’ll do something wrong?” 

Harry’s eyes bulged out in astoundment. “Jesus Dig, I didn’t say that.” 

“Yes you did!” My voice grew higher in annoyance. “You said that Nick would be there if any–” 

“I said that Nick would be there to help out if anything god for bid goes wrong. It’s not a bad thing Dig. You need to calm down.” He huffed, taking another bite before storming off in front of me. I didn’t reach him until I got to the magnificent french doors that lead into the foyer, the door just slamming in my face as Harry walked through.

I walked in the moment the young blonde girl at the reception say “Oh my god! You’re Harry Styles!” You would think that by now people would be used to Harry popping his head up every now and again around Holmes Chapel, but for some reason there was always one twenty-something-year-old girl that would make the biggest deal of him being in his hometown.

I watched as his mouth instantly lifted into a smile but into one of those fake smiles to appease people from his true feelings. I could tell he felt uncomfortable all from the slightest movement of his nose twitching to the left. Years ago, he would used to tell me how he hated being recognized as Harry Styles from One Direction in his own hometown. In his head, he was just Harry; a normal chap with a not so normal job, returning home to see his family and friends. To have people make a big hullabaloo 

“We’re booked under the name Palmer to view the wedding ceremony and reception areas.” 

“Oh,” the young girl frowned instantly as I stood besides Harry. “Your getting married to her? I thought you were with Cami–” Her mouth couldn’t help direct at Harry with some disgust. She couldn’t have possibly known how close that reality could have come true. It hit me like a rock sinking to the dark depths of the ocean, except in my heart. 

“No,” Harry coughed uncomfortably, interrupting her before she could finish off saying his last girlfriend’s name. “We’re here to plan a surprise engagement party for our friends.”

“Is Evelyn here? We were booked in with her to show us around.” I tried my hardest to redirect us to what Harry and I were actually here to achieve today. 

“No sorry. She went home sick today. I can help you out today though. Follow me through here.”

She pointed her oddly creepy smile towards Harry, completely ignoring me as she opened the door behind her. “My names Charlotte, if you wanted to know.” 

Charlotte showed us around the grounds and the venue which seemed to be fine. It was a little country motel that would’ve needed an entire book out just to get the venues, but the set up on the riverbank made up for that. It was one of the things that had caught my eye when Harry and I began researching venues and unbelievably, Harry and I agreed that it completed the vision Gemma and Jack wanted for their special day. 

However, it was obvious that she had no care for why I was around. It was all about Mr Popstar himself. Now while she happily informed Harry that they could organise rain cover if needed for the ceremony and that they had an onsite vendors that we could use to execute our vision, the venue could not hold the number of guests that had already RSVP’d back, let alone the number of people who had been invited to the engagement party/surprise wedding and we had no availability to valet parking. 

Despite the few hiccups the venue provided, we were seemingly moving towards the agreement that this would be the right place to have the wedding. We could book the out of town guests into the available accomodation and undoubtedly Jack and Gemma’s family could bunk in at our parents houses. The kitchen was more than satisfactory for any catering company to use as their facility. It was ticking most of the boxes on our checklist. 

Harry and I had been standing in the corner of the ball room, discussing where the best possible place to put the DJ booth while Charlotte had briefly run off to get some more information for us when my phone had let off a message notification. Scrambling through my handbag, I finally found my phone and was met from a message from Emily. 

Emily Xx:

so that’s it huh? You’re fucking him again? You fucking HATE everything about him Indi! I fucking knew you would do this Indigo! Let me remind you one of the many reasons you left him for me! Here’s another article ridiculing you for hanging around the UK’s biggest womaniser http://www.thesun.co.uk/tvandshowbiz/762998/harry-styles-rekindles-romance-with-childhood-sweetheart-indigo-palmer/

My throat instantly tightened as I read every word in her text, tears threatened to spill from the rims of my eyelids. My thumb shakily tapped on the link she had oh so graciously shared with me all while my anxiety heightened. 

I had already read the article and was already twenty hateful tweets in when Harry noticed the tears that had escaped, most likely dragging down my non-waterproof mascara down my cheeks. 

“Hey, hey Dig?” Harry hushed as he instantly stood in front of me, the pad of his thumb running underneath my eye. “What’s wrong?” 

“W–we c–can’t have the wedding here.” I managed to choke out. 

“What? Why?” Harry’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. 

“B–because Charlotte or whatever her name was has b–been posting pictures of us the whole time we’ve been here.”

“No she hasn’t, has she?” I nodded sorrowfully. I said nothing more, just handing over my phone to the endless amounts of reactions that seemed to be popping off every millisecond. I couldn’t even look him in the eye. He knew how hard I took everything to heart and it was one part of his world that played part in destroying our relationship.

But somehow, I picked my head up.

My eyes flickered up with very little movement, just to gauge any indication of how he felt, despite in my bones knowing how upset he would have been. It was most likely the worst decision I had made today. 

Why? 

I watched how his face remained stern when he had finished reading the link, tapping the top left of the screen to return to the message thread between Emily and I; only to drop the moment he had began reading that message she had sent. 

“So I’ve got the booking information here for you. A deposit will need to be paid of course. So I was thinking we–“ 

“I’m sorry.” Harry began warily. “We’re going to have to go somewhere else.” 

“B–but, I’ve got the b–booking forms here.”

“Sorry.” Harry said bluntly. “I can’t hold a private event where staff are going to be posting pictures online before the actual event happens.”

He took hold of my hand, ever so gently and guided me back out to the entrance and carried on holding it until he had opened the passenger door of his car for me, waiting to get in. 

We only could’ve been driving for two minutes in dead silence, only the noise of the tyres crackling over the loose gravel could be heard until Harry coughed uncomfortably.

“Dig, I–“

“Are we stopping for a cigarette?”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

I took a deep breath in, the oxygen filling my lungs trying it’s best to ease the anxiety flowing through my body. What my body need was a tequila shot and a hit of nicotine to stop me from going crazy.

“It’s just an article.”

“It’s not just an article.” Harry said, anger seeping through his tone. “Our trust was betrayed; especially yours.”

I couldn’t argue that. 

“And I know you had your reasons for leaving me–“

“Harry–“

“But she had no right to try manipulate you with that article like that. It actually makes me sick to think she’s treated you like this for who knows how long.” 

Harry swiftly pulled his car onto the side of the road. “Please Harry, just–“

“Indigo,” The calluses on his hand softly scratched at my skin as he held my chin towards him. Sympathy poured from his forest green eyes, while mine were already bloodshot from the tears I couldn’t seem to hold back. “You deserve better… actually no, you deserve the best. And what she gave you just then was certainly not it.”

Before he could go any further, I quickly unclipped my seatbelt and threw my arms around his neck, my nose hiding in that crook I would find comfort in so many years ago. His lips pursed against the shell of my ear, peppering light kisses there as his arms wrapped themselves around me.

“I just – I need you to know that and no matter what, I’ve still got your back. You’ve got to know that.”

I sniffled there for a few moments, the beating of his heart the only noise being the only thing I could hear. 

“Can we have that cigarette now?”

“Yeah Dig. We can.”

v. let’s find someone to cook us some food (but I want cake)

“Jesus Dig, could you hurry up? I am starving.” Harry complained, lying on my bed staring up at the millions of fairy lights that scattered across the ceiling. I rolled my eyes at his childish antics, clipping the butterfly to the back of my earring. 

“I’m literally ready. Let me just get my shoes on and then we’ll go.”

“Well it’s about time.” He leaned up on his elbows. “You told me not to eat breakfast before this. Why would you tell me that if you planned on being this late.”

“We’re actually right on time. Our appointment isn’t until 11, which is 20 minutes away.” I slid on one shoe before throwing my foot up into Harry’s lap, saving me from bending down and buckling my own shoe. 

“You do know it will take us more than 20 minutes to get there.” Harry couldn’t help but snide as he slid the leather strap into the gold buckle. “You’ll be lucky if we get there in half an hour.” 

“Oh calm down, would ya?” I sniped wittily. “I Google Maps’d it this morning. It’ll take us 22 minutes to get there by car.”

“You can’t trust those things Dig. They’re not 100%–“

“Your mother really should have named you Harold, you know. You have the personality of a cynical 84 year old man.”

He glared up at me as he finished buckling my shoe. “I am a cynical 84 year old man.”

“Well, be a not cynical gentleman for once and do up my other shoe please?” The shoe hung from my fingers in front of him, the gold buckle clinking together as it swayed side to side. Harry huffed, almost snatching the shoe away. I nearly toppled over when I lifted my other foot up, Harry immediately getting hold of my hands and placing them on his shoulders to balance myself. 

“Right, that’s you ready to go.” He released my foot from his grasp. 

“Thank you.” I patted his shoulders once, his snarl slowly forming into a discreet smirk. “Can we go now? I don’t want to be late.”

“Oh, so it’s now you don’t want to be late?”

I didn’t even give him the satisfaction in answering, leaving him behind in my old bedroom at my Dad’s to get in his car. 

I had been surprised at how easily we had fallen into this weird friendship we had going on. We still argued almost every chance we could get, but  since that text message Emily sent last weekend, we were still able to get along just fine for the sake of planning this wedding. Even though Harry was most likely acting out of pity, I didn’t mind spending my free time with him. If anything, it reminded me of why I had fallen for him the first time. 

“Would you look at that! We’re here with time to spare.” 

We had pulled up to Scoundrels two minutes earlier than Google had anticipated, a smug smile perched right up on my face as Harry parallel parked outside of the café. Harry had no trouble in telling me to fuck off which had just made me more smug. 

The bell rang behind us as we walked through the doors and memories flooded in like a tidal wave. Scoundrels hadn’t changed one bit. Both Harry and I looked to the right where our table sat. 

I remember we could have only been about fourteen when our Mum’s had first dragged us there. Mum and Dad has only just divorced and Anne was wholeheartedly there to support our family in need. While Mum cried about the inevitable end of her relationship to Anne, Harry and I were forced to awkwardly sit with each other to the table in the right while Jack and Gem were out with their mates and over time, by sitting at that table playing the most stupidest games with each other, Harry and I used to both agree that it was one of the best things that had happened to us, because it was the beginning of us; the beginning to our adventure. 

“No fookin’ way!” A loud voice boomed from the counter, both of our heads swiftly turning towards the loud noise. “What are you doing here?! Are you two shaggin’ again?”

Harry burst out in laughter, clutching at his stomach as ZZ stood behind the counter, pure and utter shock written all over his face. 

“Zima!” Darcy squealed as she ran from behind  the kitchen and stood in the doorway. “You can’t just ask them that!”

“Well why didn’t you tell me they were our 11 o’clock appointment?! I would have had time to freak out before they turned up here.” 

“It was meant to be a surprise!”

“Nice to see you too Zuzima.” Harry grinned as he made his way over to ZZ, wrapping him up in a big ol’ hug. “And it’s nice to hear you still care about our sex life.”

“Harry!” I exclaimed, whacking his arm with the back of my hand. 

“What?!” With his eyes wide, Harry tried his best to act like he didn’t know what he had said. 

“Ignore them love,” Darcy quickly wrapped me up in a sweet hug. “Their brains operate at a far slower rate than ours. Makes us girls superior, I reckon.”

“Oi!” ZZ piped up. “You best take that back. Gender equality and all that.”

“You’re right darling, I’m sorry.” Darcy huffed playfully as she let me go and set her eyes on Harry. “Now get over here you. Haven’t seen you in months H. How have you been?”

I walked over to ZZ with a small smile on my face. I hadn’t seen him and Darce in years. I think the last time I might have visited would have been when I was visiting H on tour with the One Direction lads at one of their Manchester concerts, which was well over four years ago. 

“Hiya Zeez,”

A lot like Scoundrels, ZZ and Darcy hadn’t changed a bit either, so it wasn’t like I was nervous about that. I on the other hand had changed and from what I could tell, it wasn’t for the better. But ZZ just stood there with his kind smile and his arms out ready to give me a hug. We stood in each other arms for the longest time, just swaying side to side, holding each other tight. I actually hadn’t realised how much I had missed the both of them.

“Long time, no see sweetheart. You alright?” He mumbled quietly.

“Could kill for a decent coffee and a bit of cake.”

ZZ bellowed out a laugh, letting me go. “That I can sort that out for you. Go take a seat and I’ll bring us some.”

We all settled down on the larger table in the middle of the café, about two tables away from our self proclaimed spot. The bitter yet familiar aroma of ZZ’s coffee filled the café and I could already see from the look on Harry’s face, he was bloody happy about getting some coffee and food into himself. 

“So I’m a bit confused, like…” ZZ slid my Mocha in front of me and promptly sat down beside me while Harry and Darcy chatted amongst themselves on the other side of the table. 

“Are you guys, y’know… getting married?”

My eyes bulged out in shock as I sipped my coffee. I got that much of a shock, I ended up choking mid-sip. Harry had to pat my back rather brashly to help ease my coughing fit. ZZ immediately sat up straight, ready to explain himself in the fastest way possible. 

“D said this appointment was a engagement party sampler and possibly a cake tasting. I see that there’s no ring in your finger, but I thought you and H were keeping it secret.”

“Zima!” 

“What?!” He exclaimed, confusion written all over his face. 

“We’re not getting married, ZZ.” Harry said so carefully, as if he were trying not to break his own heart again with the subject of us and marriage. If anything, it added another crack into my own shattered heart. Darcy’s eyes flickered between the two of us as if her eyes were following a tennis match. 

“Jack and Gems are actually getting married and they wanted to have a surprise wedding as soon as possible. So they asked us to plan it for them.” He managed to snap back to normal, the knuckle of his index finger rubbing at the tip of his nose. 

“Oh.” ZZ responded disappointedly. There was no secret that he was definitely one of our #1 supporters. We had our first date in his café. Of course he was disappointed that it wasn’t us reuniting our love. “That’s well good innit’?”

“Yeah,” Harry looked over at me, a small smile reaching towards me. “We think so.”

“So what were they wanting to have for food?” Darcy asked after she finished sipping her tea. “Do they want to serve a big lunch or dinner, or kind of have a smorgasbord of food throughout the afternoon?”

“Well they’ve kind of left that up to Harry and I, so we were thinking that we could have smorgasbord set up on the day.” I explained. “That way people can help themselves throughout the day if we were able to do that.”

“Absolutely!” ZZ clapped his hands together. “We’d probably need to bring our portable container with our gear in it if your venue doesn’t have a decent kitchen in it.”

“We’re waiting to hear back from two venues and one of them won’t have a adequate kitchen, but they will have the room for the portable container to be onsite.” 

“Great,” Darcy wrote down in her notepad. “Now what kind of food requirements were you hoping to have?”

“Well ultimately, we would like a vegan menu if possible.” I tried to elaborate. “A lot of Gemma’s friends are vegan, but there are a few of Jack’s rugby mates and a couple of my Uncle’s that like a good roast.”

“What Dig is trying to say is that we’d like the best of both worlds.” Harry laughed, resting his arm on the back of my chair. “And we’d rather like it if you could make the wedding cake to

“Harry darling,” Darcy curled her fingers under his palm and squeezed his hand gently. “We’d do anything for you lot, especially after you helped us out a few months ago H. It be a pleasure to do this for your family and yours too Indigo. We’re really honoured that you both chose us to help you with your siblings wedding.” 

“Right,” ZZ clapped his hands, standing promptly out of his seat. “With that being said, I’ll bring out what I’ve prepared, yeah? There’s a killer red velvet I want you to try Indz. Come give me a hand Darce?”

My eyebrows furrowed in confusion as ZZ and Darcy both walked into the kitchen. 

“What did Darcy mean when you said you had helped them out?” 

Harry just shrugged his shoulders, acting as if it were nothing of importance. “It’s nothing.”

“Come on Harry. Tell me.”

His chest rose as he inhaled deeply, his eyes shining a vibrant forest green my way. “Mum told me Scoundrels was going to close just after Christmas, so I popped in for a visit to see why ZZ and Darcy were shutting up shop. The people that used to own the building were going to put the price of their rent up astronomically and they couldn’t afford to keep running the business when Aaliyah was going to go university next year.”

“So what did you do?”

“I bought the building. Well, I was going to gift it to them but being the people they are, they wanted to pay rent. So I agreed given that I was allowed to put the rent into a university fund for Aaliyah. But the building is theirs. They just don’t know that their names and Aaliyah’s is on the deed.”

I could hear ZZ and Darcy bickering in the kitchen but that hadn’t deterred my attention from the sweetest boy I knew, if not - the sweetest on this earth. 

“You are too good for this earth, Harry Styles.”

I remember first saying that to him when we were sixteen. 

He had been in the middle of the live shows for X Factor and was loving everything about his new life - the girls, the city, not going to college at eight in the morning. But he had heard through Anne that my Dad had just moved back to Holmes Chapel two years after his divorce with Mum to be reconnect with me and Mum was not dealing with it well, to the point where she nearly had a mental breakdown. So, he and Gemma invited me up to London for the week and any free time he got was spent with Gemma and I doing all the tourist-y shit around London. 

So I said the words at the end of my trip - “You are too good for this earth, Harry Styles.” He laughed boisterously, and shrugged it off like it wasn’t a big deal. It was just one of those things that stuck with us. To this day, I would say it was one of the best weeks I’ve ever had.

“N-no, I’m not.” He almost never replied to what I had just said, disbelief stricken all over his face. I could see his mind racing at one million miles per hour. 

My hand went to his knee, the pads of my fingertips applying the slightest of pressure in comfort. 

“Just because you don’t think so, doesn’t mean it’s not true Harry. You are inconceivably good.”

vi. let’s get everyone on the same page 

We were only a few days away from Jack and Gemma’s wedding and while everything seemed to be ticking along just fine, I had to go back to London for the last two trial days in court for the McNealson case.

I had already anticipated that my boss Mr Rodgerson would call me in to stand apart of the defence team when it came to the end of the trial. Thankfully for Mr Rodgerson and I, Judge Heatherly had come out with his verdict in our favour just before three, meaning I’d be back in Holmes Chapel just in time to meet Harry, Jack and Gemma at the pub. It also helped that Jack had lent me his car to use for the week, meaning I didn’t have to wait around for another 45 minutes for the next train back to HC.  

I didn’t think anything would go array when I pulled into Dad’s driveway, especially when all I was doing was dropping off a some clean clothes and my dress for the wedding; but as soon as I opened the car door and I heard two voices yelling at each other, voices so familiar it threw me back to my childhood, I just knew I’d be running late for the pub. 

“Why didn’t you let me know Matt?! For fuck sakes, she’s my daughter too!”

“I thought you knew Jules!”

It was almost like I was 12 again. 

Mum was stood in the kitchen, red in the face and fuming while Dad stood in the doorway to the dining room, arms out in disbelief, not knowing what he had done wrong this time.

“Why are you two at each other’s throats again?”

They both froze when they saw me come in the back door. Before Dad could even say hello, Mum directed her fury towards me. 

“Why have you been staying here on and off for the past month?” Mum spat viciously. “Actually no, why have you not bothered to come see me once since you’ve been back?”

My shoulders dropped as I let out an audible sigh. “It’s not what you think Mum.” 

“What do you mean it’s not what you think? What else am I meant to think when the only parent you see after six years of not coming home is the one who left you and your brother for two years of your life?”

“Julia! You can’t ju–“

“Mum,” I cut Dad off, knowing that they were both just egging each other on for a bigger and worse argument. “You obviously know that I’ve been helping Harry plan Jack and Gem’s engagement party then, yeah?”

Mum pursed her lips into a small scowl before nodding her head timidly. 

“And you know that while I’ve been doing that, I’ve also had the big McNealson on as well right? We found out this afternoon that we won the trial.”

Mum and Dad stayed silent, both of their faces showing small telltale signs of guilt. 

“I’ve just been busy Mum. I’m not trying to ignore you or cut you out of my life. From what Jack’s told me, you and Steven have his girls every other weekend and that’s okay. I just thought Dad’s was the most convenient place to stay because he has the room. If I’m honest, Dad and I have hardly spend any time together while I’ve been back and forth; but I’m sorry I made you feel like I was leaving you out of my life.”

Mum’s lip quivered as a small tear rolled down her cheek. Dad looked down at his boots sorrowfully as he leaned against the doorway. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you caught Emily cheating on you before Gemma’s birthday, Indi? I could have helped you with that.”

“What?!” Dad stood up immediately, his eyes running wild with outrage. “She cheated on you?!”

Mum’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “You didn’t know?”

“Of course I didn’t know!” Dad huffed. “Would’ve driven up to London myself and let her and the world know she isn’t and would never be good enough for my girl. Would have shat in her shoe too if Indi wanted me too.” 

I couldn’t help but laugh at the complete 180 degree change between the two of them. While I had known for the longest time that they really didn’t get along, they were both ever so protective Jack and I. This was a good reminder to how lucky we were to have parents like them despite their flaws. 

“Look I appreciate that you guys are both so protective of me and I love you both so much, but Emily and I… that was something I just had to deal with myself. There wasn’t anything or anybody that could fix how things turned out or how I felt. Only I can do that, okay?”

Dad bit down on his lip and nodded his head while Mum ran her thumb under her eye to get rid of the stray tears that had rolled down her face. A messenger notification popped off my phone holding the conversation to a stand still. I knew who it would be and I knew I was now running late. 

Harry: Where are you? 

“And Mum,” my voice shook as I entered unknown territory with my mother. “You’ve got to let the whole Dad disappearing for 2 years thing go. Your feelings are validated about the whole situation, but Jack and I have made our peace with Dad. So if you’re going to have a go at him, express your feelings to him and move on. Don’t use Jack and I as ammunition against him. He’s never done that to you, okay?”

Mum sniffled as she nodded, relief seemed to pour out of me considering she hadn’t gone off on another tangent. 

“Right.” I coughed in the uncomfortable silence. “I only came to drop some clothes off. I’m running late to meet Harry, Jack and Gemma at the pub.”

“Hey kiddo,” Dad stopped me in my tracks waving me toward him, my suitcase still sitting on the back step. “Come here.” 

I walked into his arms and wrapped my arms around his torso. “I’m so proud of you. Congratulations on winning the McNealson case.”

“Yeah congrats Bubba.” Mum said after Dad let me go, wrapping me up into her own big warm hug. “Love you so much.” 

Harry: seriously? Why is it always me that’s on time? Why can’t you or your brother or my bloody sister make it to planned things on time?

Me: calm ur fucken chill mate, OMW. B @ G&D in 5 mins. Also, b a darlin and order me a cider 

I left my parents together but not as how I had arrived. They were both sat down in the lounge with a cup of piping hot tea in front of them, calmly talking things through. Jack was not going to believe me when I told him what state I had left our parents in. 

The G&D had been every Holmes Chapel child’s first legal drinking hole, except my own. I had one drink there the day I turned 18, a glass of Pinot Noir with the Toad in the Hole I had ordered along with dinner. Three days later, I had moved all of my belongings from my Mum’s house to my small studio apartment in the middle of London and began my life there. 

So it wasn’t like I knew the ins and outs of the place, but I could spot Harry sitting at the far left table with a half drunken pint of beer and a cider on the table. 

“You alright, H?”

“Would be better if you lot turned up on time.” Harry snarled, sliding my cider over before taking a decent sip of his pint. “How’d your trial go?” 

“Judge Heatherly went in our favour. Ms Cindy Stewart will receive a reparation payout of £2.6 million from McNealson and Sons and another investigation into Mr Carter McNealson’s workplace harassment claims will start next month.” I shrugged before downing half my pint of cider in one go. “A good day's work if you ask me.”

“So the bastard and his father got what was coming for them, eh?”

“Oh yeah, definitely.”

“I–I uh,” Harry lifted his arm up to scratch the back of his neck. “I ordered some food. Wasn’t sure if you had dinner or not. I haven’t. So I… ordered food?” A laugh that began at the core of my body escaped me. 

“You and pub food? I can’t quite believe it!”

“Shut up.” Harry quipped. “Nothing wrong with pub food.”

“That’s where you draw the line. Pub foods okay but when it comes to a 6 pack of Chicken McNuggets and sweet and sour sauce at one in the morning, it’s suddenly a catastrophe.” Harry glared at me briefly as the young waitress placed our food on our table. At least she got something that resembled a smile out of him.

“Get over it. I’ve got important things to talk to you about before Jack and Gems get here. Mrs Birkenridge called and said if we still wanted to book her homestead, we could. Her daughter is going to be around looking after the place while she’s visiting her son in America.”

“That’s good news!” And it really was. There were so many places around Holmes Chapel that we loved but with it being a small town meant that the venues were even smaller. The only other venue that could hold the number of people we were accounting for was the hotel that caused my meltdown a few days ago – and we certainly were not going back there. It was fair to say we were kind of banking on the Birkenridge Homestead. 

“She also said that we can use the bedrooms if we need which I thought was lovely of her.”

“That is lovely of her to do that.” I agreed. “Did you give her the deposit?” 

“Transferred it on the spot. Told the set up crew and ZZ and Darcy to meet us there tomorrow so we can get it set up and sorted.”

He was acting odd. We had been counting on Mrs Birkenridge to come through and she had. I couldn’t understand why he was acting… grumpy. 

“What’s going on Harry?”

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, frown lines deciding to make an appearance on his forehead. 

“Nothing.”

“Harry,” I tried once more. “What’s making you grumpy?”

His chest rose, uncertainty written all over him.

“Dad doesn’t think he’s going to make it.” Harry said, defeat laced in every syllable. “No matter how hard I’ve stressed to him how important it is for him to be here, he just… says he won’t come.”

Sadness seeped in my lungs, weighing my chest down all because I knew how the very act of Harry’s father not coming to his sisters engagement party/wedding hurt him to the core.

The topic of his Dad was an ultimate mess for not only Harry but for anyone who had the pleasure of dealing with his Dad. If it weren’t for the positive mindset Anne had instilled in her son, there would be no relationship with him at all. 

“Do you want me to call him myself? I have no problem doing so. I’ve done it before.” 

“Nah,” It was the first smile Harry had cracked since I arrived at G&D. “Gem reckons she doesn’t mind if he doesn’t turn up but like, I do. Like, if I were a Dad, I’d want to walk my little girl down the aisle. I don’t know why any father wouldn’t want to be at their daughter's engagement… or wedding. I don’t know. It’s all a mindfuck innit’?”

I nodded understandably. He was right. It was a mindfuck.

The messenger noise halted our conversation.

Jack: won’t be making it sis. the girls have turned up for drinks with gem so i’m off 2 deano’s 2 have some drinks with the boys. tell h he’s more than welcome 2 join 

Me: wow thanx 4 the invite arse. U 2 better be at mrs birkenridge’s @ lunch. xx 

“Well, guess who’s bailed on the meeting they planned?”

Harry rolled his eyes and let out a sigh of disappointment. “Bloody typical.”

“Well,” I clapped my hands together. “I don’t see why we should waste the rest of our night.”

“What do you mean Dig?” 

“I’m saying we should make the most of our free night not planning this wedding. I don’t know about you but I could do with a decent night drinking.”

Chewing on his bottom lip, he pondered the possibility of spending the night with me. 

“Fuck it.” He smiled once more, before necking down the rest of his pint. “Well go on then. To the bottom.”

That’s all it took for me to chug the rest of my cider and order us 2 shots of tequila each and another round of drinks, a start to interesting night.

vii. let’s get a start on this wedding

I could hear chirping.

Why could I hear chirping?

I took three deep breaths, my head thumping and my mouth drier than the Sahara desert. I couldn’t even bare the thought to open my eyes. If it weren’t for my turning stomach, I would have stayed in my deep slumber. Even with my eyes closed, I could feel the weight on top of my abdomen, pressing all the wrong places 

“Get off.” I mumbled, squeezing my eyelids shut tighter as the daylight outside woke me up. Trying my hardest to push the weight off, I began to breathe quicker, my mouth watering at an insane rate as my turning got worse than before. “Get off. Get off. Get off.” 

A sigh of relief escaped me when I managed push the weight off me. Flinging the sheets off me, my eyes shot open and I ran to the bathroom, my stomach emptying into the toilet as soon as I collapsed in front of the toilet. The bathroom was beginning to spin once I had finished, so there I stood at the basin, stark naked brushing the remnants from the night before off my teeth. My thighs ached to the point where without the motivation to vomit, I wasn’t sure I could walk. 

I spat the remaining toothpaste into the basin, the running tap washing the foam down the drain. As I looked up into the mirror, I saw Harry standing behind me in the reflection, still half asleep and stark naked as I was. He reached around me, twisting the tap to the point the water stopped running. 

“Turn around.” His voice croaked. It had always taken a bit for his gravelly voice to warm up in the morning. 

Harry guided my hands to hook behind his neck, before running his own down my body, leaving a wake of goosebumps, settling at the back of my thighs. 

“Jump.” 

My legs locked around his body, while my eyes found comfort in the darkness of the crook of his neck. 

“You’re game.” I mumbled as Harry carried me back to my bedroom. “Walking around like this in my Dad’s house.”

“Calm down.” I heard him kick the door to my bedroom, as it bounced off the wall and back into us. “Your Dad left for work a couple of hours ago. He’s not exactly quiet when he leaves for work.”

My back hit the mattress gently as Harry lowered me down, a kiss placed on the very corner of my mouth which melted all my limbs to jelly. He draped the sheets over my body before occupying the space next to me like he had the night just been. His head rested by my right shoulder, eyes already shut closed. The calluses of his hand tickled at my hip as Harry pulled me closer to him. 

“H?” I asked so quietly, I wondered if he had heard me. My fingertips ran through the mess of his hair. Harry seemed to have liked it because he had shuffled closer to me and did this weird, purring thing. 

“Mmmm…”

“We had sex.”

“Yeah,” Harry mumbled smugly. “We did.” 

We lay in silence for a bit, the only noise was from the birds chirping outside my window. And while it seemed quite slow and steady out there, in here my brain could not stop running at one million and one miles per hour. 

“Do you think Dad would of heard us last night?”

“Oh yeah no doubt.” Harry chuckled. “Remember that time he stayed with us? The night of your graduation? You were almost louder than that night, I reckon.”

“Oi, no I wasn’t.” I disagreed. 

“Whatever you say Dig.”

Yesterday seemed like forever ago. While bits of it were a haze, there were times last night that were clear as day. I remember when Harry backed me into the corner, telling me how beautiful I looked. I told him to piss off. I remember tasting whiskey off of his tongue when he kissed me on the taxi home. I remember feeling so satisfied with colour purple that grew on the crook of his neck, admiring the handiwork I had done on him. I remembered what it was like to just have him in such a vulnerable state, the intimacy we shared almost identical to what we used to share with each other all those years ago. 

Rather than the experience being soul-shattering and painful like I thought it would turn out to be, I felt loved; something I hadn’t felt in a long time.

Without knowing so, Harry and I fell into another deep slumber, where I had dreamed that we were about to go skydiving and I was about to jump off the plane when a phone began ringing.

“What?” Harry grumbled beside me. His heartbeat echoed in the shell of my ear as he listened to whoever was interrupting our time. “Shit! Yep, yeah. We will be there in ten minutes.”

“Who was that?”

“It was Gemma.” Harry slipped out from under me, making me whimper from the loss of contact and warmth. 

“Come on Diggy babe. You’ve got to get up. Everyone’s at Mrs Birkenridge’s.”

“What?!” That made me instantly sit up. I couldn’t recall in the whole time that I had known Harry for him to dress himself as quickly as he did. Me on the other hand still felt drunk. He threw on his clothes and then helped me into my own before putting me into the car and drove speedily towards the Birkenridge Homestead. 

“I’m so sorry we’re late.” Harry instantly apologised to the woman I assumed was Mrs Birkenridge’s daughter. 

“It’s no problem. I’m Rosemary, Mary-Louise’s daughter. You must be Harry? We spoke on the phone.”

“Yeah I am. Nice to meet you.” Harry grinned, holding his hand out for her to shake his hand. “This is Indigo, Jack’s sister. We’re both planning the engagement party together.”

Despite every cell in my body functioning at a 45% success rate, I pulled a smile on my face and shook Rosemary’s hand. “Hiya! Nice to meet you.”

”You too.” She smiled politely as she lead us around the property. “Jack and Gemma are just around the back by the pond. They were telling me that you used to throw pretty great parties back in the day.”

“That was mostly Harry,” I admitted. “I was too busy studying for my exams most of the time‍. All I would do was make sure there was a enough booze and food for everyone.”

“Don’t you listen to her Rosemary,” Harry was quick to dismiss. “She was a vital part of the team. Was always there ready to play an impromptu game of drunk twister and always made sure nobody felt left out.”

“Oh there they are. Took you two long enough to get here.” Jack said in a smarmy tone, all to arrogant for his own good. Gemma slapped his chest with the back of her hand. If Jack was gonna play this game with me, I was gonna play and beat him at his own game too. 

“Oi, pipe down pet. It’s not like we’ve done everything else for this bleeding wedding.” 

Rosemary looked warily between the two of us, I sure if we were being serious or not. 

“Ignore him.” Gemma grinned over at Rosemary. Harry just threw a warning look my way, as if he were saying ‘just shut your face for once, would ya?’ through the smallest movement of his eyebrow. “He gets a bit cocky when he hasn’t been fed.”

“Well, I say we get into it.” Harry clapped his hands. “You tell us how you want things set up,” he looked towards Gemma and Jack before aiming his attention at Rosemary. “And you can let us know if that’s okay or not to do on the property,” Then his neck snapped my way. “And Dig and I can sort the rest.”

For the next three hours, Gemma and Jack explained how they wanted their ceremony area and reception area set up, while Rosemary sat at the table with Harry watching the decorators do their thing. By the end of the afternoon, Rosemary was besotted with Harry and couldn’t stop gushing to her husband how sweet Harry was. 

It looked absolutely beautiful. 

Baby pink satin curtains draped against a frame that stood on a platform at the end of the aisle. Fairy lights glimmered in the tree’s and bundles of pink and white roses bloomed all over the show. What had impressed me the most was the smiles that just seemed to keep on growing on my brother and his fiancé’s faces. 

“Uh, Indigo?” I turned around to see Rosemary who looked unsure about what she was going to say next. “There’s, uh… Emily’s come to see you? She’s quite adamant on seeing you, uh… now?”

My heart dropped in a instant. I could feel my skin turn pale and my breath held still in my chest. I was in shock. I couldn’t wrap my head around the idea of how she knew where I was. 

“Hey, hey, hey…” Jack stood in front of me, his hands rubbing the sides of my arms to shake me out of the shock I was in. “What’s going on Prinny? You look sick. Is your hangover finally kicking in?”

I wanted to speak… No actually, I wanted to scream; but I couldn’t. I just wanted to be left alone for one goddamn minute to grasp what was happening.

“A girl’s turned up here to see Indigo. Her name’s Emily.” Rosemary patted my back comfortingly as Jack’s green eyes bulged out in disbelief. 

“Fuck.” He mumbled. “Do you want me to go get rid of her? Because I will. You know I will.”

“No.” I managed to shake my head and took a step back. I needed space for my own well-being. “I–I just wasn’t expecting her.”

“Well do you want me to go with you then? We’ll go tell her to bugger off together.”

“N–no thanks.” I shook my head before turning around to Rosemary. “I’m so sorry if she’s given you any trouble. I’ll make sure she goes home.”

She nodded at me with a sympathetic smile. “She’s in the front entrance. Good luck.”

I could hear her before I could see her. She was pacing up and down the entrance her normally pristine hair was messily thrown up into a bun. She looked like she hadn’t even changed clothes in the last couple of days. It was more scary than it was worrisome. 

“Emily what are you doing here?” 

She stopped in her tracks, her piercing eyes going right through me. “You need to come with me now.”

“I can’t Emily.” My voice wobbled. “I’m busy.”

“Yeah, with that fucking prick from One Direction.” Emily spat venomously. “It’s fucking everywhere Indi. Harry Styles back with his former childhood sweetheart. Do you know how stupid that makes me look?”

“What about how stupid I looked when you cheated on me, huh?” I cried so loudly, it echoed within the entrance. “Do you ever think about how awful I felt when I caught my girlfriend of two years in our bed being eaten out by your co-worker?” 

“I only did it because you stopped loving me!”

“That is such bullshit Em.” I angrily wiped the tears rolling down my flushed cheeks. “The worst thing about all of this is that I still fucking love you, even after everything you’ve put me through. I still fucking love you.”

“Well if you loved me, you would have never kicked me out of my home. You would have stayed in London and sort things out with me. We would still be together.”

“No we wouldn’t.” I spoke honestly. “You know, Harry never did anything wrong while we were together. Sure, his job sucked at times but he always made me feel loved. And I still ran away from him because my parents had fucked up the idea of marriage for me. All your cheating did was bring everything to light, Em. You never loved me the way I loved you and I’ve realised that it’s not enough.”

“Do you know how hard I’ve fucking tried over the last two years Indigo? Because let me tell you, it’s fucking tough when your girlfriend is still in love with her ex-boyfriend.”

“I’m not in love with Harry!” I sobbed. “I’m not.”

“You are though. You’ve never fully let him go and all you’ve done is run back into his arms. Forget me though, I’ll just act like everything you’re doing is fine.”

“For fuck sakes Emily!” I shouted, a lie bubbling up in my stomach. “All he’s done is help me with this near-on soul destroying wedding! He’s not even being that great about it. If it weren’t for the fact that my brother and his sister were getting married, I would have absolutely nowt to do with him.”

I could see the rage in her that had built up so much, it was about to overflow. 

“You need to go, Emily.”

Harry stood leaning against the hallway wall, a mixture of sadness and anger showing on his face. Emily scoffed as she spotted Harry a few metres away from us.

“Well here’s the big man himself! Suppose you’ve been trying everything in your power to woo our little princess here. Not that hard of a job to win her over is it?”

“If you don’t leave, I’ll get my security to escort you off the property and you’ll be given a restraining order.”

“You know what?” Emily paced back and forth for a bit, quietly laughing to herself. “Fuck you both. You two fucking horrible people deserve each other.”

Just like that, she was gone… and Harry wasn’t far behind her.

“Harry!” I ran up behind him as best as I could in my heels, yanking on his bicep to pull Harry back. “Could you just stop for a second?”

“Why should I Dig? All you’ve done this whole time is second guess me! I want the best for our siblings too! I want to do the best I can possibly do for their wedding! I don’t know what I have done for you to not trust me!” Harry puffed, his cheeks instantly flushing red as tears built up in his eyes. 

“Actually, fuck that. I proposed to you Dig! I proposed to you and you ran away and it was the last I saw of you. For the last two years I’ve tried to understand what I did wrong; what I possibly could have done to stop you from leaving me. All for you to not be loved like you should have been loved since. That fucking breaks my heart Indigo, it fucking does. We could have never felt this pain if you had just let me love you.”

“Harry, I–“

“Ever since I saw you sitting out on Mum’s balcony with a fucking e-cigarette in your hand, you’re all I’ve wanted since. But I’m never going to be good enough, am I Dig?”

I wish you knew Harry. I wish you knew that you were too good for me… too good for this earth in this lifetime anyways. It was never about you not being good enough for me. It was about me not being good enough for you. 

In this lifetime I’ll always love you but will never be good enough to match what you deserve. 

I wish you knew. 

viii. let’s have a wedding. 

“Get up.” My body shook from the sharp jolt that moved my mattress.

I lifted my hand in the air, middle finger flying high and proud as I squished my face as far into the pillow as I could. “Fuck off Jackson.” 

“Seriously Prinny. Get the fuck up.”

“I don’t want to deal with you right now.” I seethed, glaring at Jack with as much hatred as could muster this early in the morning. “Fuck off and get ready for your wedding.”

“I want to!” Jack exasperated. “But I can’t when both me and the woman I’m about to marry are worrying about our siblings.”

“Stop worrying and let me go back to sleep. There – problem solved.”

“Indigo.” Jack sat on the edge of my bed, tucking my hair behind my ear. “He loves you.”

No he didn’t. He didn’t know what type of person I had turned into. If Emily couldn’t love me, Harry certainly couldn’t. If anything, my worst fear had come true. I was unlovable. There was no need for Harry to take one for the team and brainwash himself into thinking he loves me.

“It’s been two, nearly three years since he proposed Jack.” I croaked, tears heavy on my eyes and my throat tightening to where it was becoming hard to breathe. “I’m a horrible person. He doesn’t love me. He loves this made up version of me that he’s had in his head since.”

“He loves you Indi, he told you that yesterday. You just don’t love yourself… or you don’t love love.” He argued. 

“Trust me, I know our parents fucked up our idea of love but in all honesty, it was you and Harry that changed that for me. Not Gemma, you and Harry. I knew that it was the whole marriage idea that triggers you but I thought if you could happily accept the amount of love Harry had for you by opening your heart up, I could do the same. And in a few hours time, I’m going to marry the love of my life, and it’s going to be great.”

The clock read 8.43am, which meant I had only stopped crying four hours ago. Of course Jack had to go set me off with the sweetest of arguments I’ve ever had with my brother.

“I just want you to have the best love you could possibly get and give and I really think Harry is your shot at that. But you need to fight for him Indz, because I think he’s lost all hope and from what I can see, you’ve got a little bit left in ya.”

And like the annoying brother he was, Jack was right. I did have a little bit of hope left for Harry and I. 

“Right, okay.” I flung the sheets off me, wiping the ugly tears that were drying on my rosy cheeks. “Move out of my way. Got to tell someone I love him.”

Jack grinned, throwing his keys on my lap. “See you in a couple of hours then.”

I wish I had more time to think, but it only took me three minutes to drive to Harry’s parents house. I wanted more time to think of how to say sorry; to apologise for disappearing after he got down on one knee in our living room and asked me to marry him; to think of all the ways I could show Harry how much I loved him; and most importantly, to talk myself out of doing this because deep down, I was still so unsure about me chasing after him. All of my insecurities were still there but so was Harry… for the meantime.

Gemma gave me a knowing look as she let me into her Mum’s house, whispering a quick good luck in my ear as she let me go from our hug. Ny heart pounded so loudly in my chest with every step I took up the stairs, leading myself to Harry’s bedroom. 

My hand anxiously wavered by before it knocked three times again the wooden door. I could hear the graspiness in his voice the moment he mumbled ‘come in’. 

My hand turned the golden knob and I visibly cringed as the door freaked while I opened it. But as soon as I saw him, leaning up on his elbows over at me, still half asleep not knowing who was at the door, tears fell heavy on my eyes. 

“Hey…” I choked out, all the words I wanted to say the moment I saw him vanished in a second.

“Hi.”

Rather than the scowl I was expecting to see on his face, Harry smiled and all it did was make me break down in tears. 

“Hey, hey, hey. Come on now. Come get into bed.” Harry hushed from his bed, lifting up the covers and invited me in. It was safe to say I near on ran getting into his warm bed. 

“I’m so sorry H. I’m sorry. I’m sorry. I never–“

Harry shushed me gently, his lips peppering kisses on my forehead. His arm instantly wrapped around my waist, pulling my body right against his side, the shell of my ear right above his racing heart. 

“I’m sorry too. I should’ve never made you feel guilty for not accepting my proposal.” Harry whispered so carefully.

“I should have never run away from you in the first place.” I shook my head. “I should have stayed and told you how afraid I was of turning out like my parents. Instead I hurt you and I don’t know if I can forgive myself for that.”

“I think there is a should have and shouldn’t haves in our past babe,” Harry sighed. “The question we have now is do we see a future together…”

Before I could get my answer in, Harry carried on. “Because if I’m being 100% honest here, I’m in. With or without marriage, I want to spend this lifetime with you.”

Sniffling hard, I threw myself on top of his body, attacking his body in the biggest hug of love I could give. 

“I love you. Fuck, I’m so fucking in love with you. I’ve never stopped, I never will.” I muttered on like a mad person in the crook of his neck. Tears continued to roll down my cheek and onto his warm skin. 

“Love you too, Dig. So much.” 

***

“Could I get everybody’s attention please?” Jack's voice boomed over the group of people that had gathered in the backyard. Gemma stood proudly by his side, her smile beaming as she looked up at the man she was about to marry. 

Harry and I sat off to a table on the right of the aisle, bunched up together like two peas in a pod. Our fingers were intertwined, resting on Harry’s thigh under the table. Thankfully, the tablecloth covered out hands so not even our mothers could use that as an excuse to pry in our newly founded relationship. My head rested on his shoulder, partly due from the lack of sleep I had the night before, but mostly due to how exhausted planning this wedding had made me. 

Anne has burst into Harry’s bedroom earlier this morning, just like when we were kids. While we may of been sleeping for ten minutes at most after reconciling, she told us to both get out of bed and join her and Gemma for breakfast. She had made pancakes, and made me my own special blueberry pancakes. 

Things would have been great if Harry didn’t insist on eating my pancakes. We were thirty minutes into our new future that we couldn’t wait to see what would come from it, and we were already arguing. For the first time in a very long time, I felt happy and that in itself was an overwhelming emotion. 

“We want to thank you for turning up today. It means a lot to Gemma and I that you all could make it. But there’s two people we really want to thank from the very bottom of our heart.” Jack looked over at Harry and I from the platform. 

“As you know, my brother Harry and Jack’s sister Indigo have spent the last couple of months planning this engagement party for us. Haven’t they done such a wonderful job?” Gemma said, her grin never leaving her face. A applause broke out from the crowd in front of them. 

“If you didn’t know, they used to date! And like the annoying siblings they are, they would make Jack and I hang out with them all the time. It was like being an awkward double date.” She laughed, before turning her attention back onto Jack. “But little did we know what would come our way and what we would turn into. So in saying that, we have a bit of a surprise for you all.”

Gemma quickly ran off stage and pulled another lady up onto the stage with her. 

“This is Diana. She’s a marriage celebrant.”

A gasp came over the guests, while Harry and I chuckled between each other. 

“And since we thought Harry and Indi have done such a great job and all of the people we love and cherish are here, we thought why not just get married now!” 

Both of our Mum’s looked between in each other in shock, tears forming heavily in their eyes. Dad threw his head back, boisterously laughing his head off, pointing at us as we sheepishly grinned like we hadn’t known this was the plan all along. 

“You knew, didn’t ya! Ya little fucking shits.” 

Diana stood in between Jack and Gem, harping on all things love and how the very act of love made the world go round and more specifically, how it came to bring them two together. I didn’t expect Jack to be as emotional as he was. His voice quivered on almost every third word when he was saying his vows, sneaky tears being hastily wiped away by this big stocky fella who I hadn’t seen cry in almost twenty years. As for Gemma, well – you couldn’t get the smile off her face if you tried. 

“...I now announce you as husband and wife. Now snog each other, will ya?”

A surge of pride filled my chest as I watched my brother and new sister-in-law whisper ‘I love you’ to each other before kissing each other. Jack had said earlier that there was hope in seeing love. Now I knew what he had meant, and it pained me to say but my big ol’ brother was right. 

I turned my face towards Harry, resting my chin on his shoulder as I looked up into those lovely eyes I had been in love with since I was fifteen. 

“I love you.” I whispered, the most smug of smiles gracing Harry’s face.

“I love you too.”

ix. epilogue 

Harry thought to himself he had never been so thankful to see a door before. The moment he walked out, all he wanted to do was walk back in and stay there for as long as he could.

But Indigo was sick of hospital food. All she wanted was some baked ziti from the little Italian restaurant down the road and given the last twenty four hours she had been through, Harry would do anything for his love. That however meant Harry had to drive across town to get it, and while he was near home, he might as well pick up the gift he forgot and left at home. 

Harry quietly crept into the hospital room, trying his best not to drop the food his girlfriend desperately wanted, or all of the other stuff he had brought from their home. Despite the curtains were drawn shut, the sunset managed to peek through, setting the room into a nice auburn red that wasn’t too harsh on his eyes. 

“Hey.” Harry whispered, a moment of relief falling over him when he saw Indigo sitting upright, her hair tied up messily on the top of her head, happily gazing down at the little bub that had only entered the world just a few hours ago. 

Indigo looked away from their little angel, her smile turning into a grin when she saw Harry standing there with a paper bag of food and about three stuffed toys in his hand. 

“Hi. How was the traffic?”

“It was fine.” Harry walked over and placed the toys at the side of the hospital bed, the food put on the bedside cabinet, and a kiss promptly placed on Indigo’s lips. “How’s our girl doing?”

“Well she’s been a hungry little bugger for the last ten minutes, haven’t you sweet girl?” Indigo turned her attention back down to her little bubba, currently latched on and eating to her heart’s content. “But she’s been a good girl nonetheless. The nurse and I were really impressed at how well she latched on this time.”

“Not sure where she gets being good from. It certainly isn’t from you or me.” Harry snided, his wit still coming through despite most of his attention was on this little girl of theirs. He went to pat the apple of her cheek ever so gently with the knuckle of his finger but she was to quick for him, her tiny hand wrapping around his finger. Harry’s heart hadn’t melted quicker than it did in that moment.

“The nurse wants you to do some more skin-to-skin tonight too.” Indigo smiled at her little girl’s hand wrapping around her daddy’s finger. “She said it may help her settle a bit better when we put her down for a sleep, rather than nursing her to sleep all the time.”

“Count me in.” Harry beamed. “I’d do anything for you, little girl.”

Indigo’s free hand lifted up to Harry’s cheek, feeling the scratchy stubble on her palm. Admiration filled Indigo’s heart to the brim when it came to Harry’s love for anything, but it had been amplified when they had found out about their little bub growing in Indigo’s tummy, and then so much more when she finally decided to enter the world. In all honesty, Indigo thought she had peaked. There was absolutely no way she could be any happier than she was in this very moment. 

“Sweet girl wrote you a card while you were gone.”

“Did she now?” Harry’s eyebrow quirked upwards. “You know, we’ve got to give her a name at some point.”

“It’ll come in good time. Just can’t decide if she’s a Grace or a Georgia.” Indigo shrugged her shoulders, dropping her hand from his face, and back down to their baby. Her little bub looked content and full, so Indigo broke her suction and quickly replaced her nipple with the knuckle of her finger in between the baby’s gums. “Her card’s just up on the cabinet if you want to read it.”

Harry didn’t want his sweet girl to let go of his finger but he slid his finger out unwillingly. His curiosity got the better of him, wanting to know what his daughter (and Indigo) wanted to say to him. 

He picked up the baby pink envelope, flicked his finger under the paper and pulled out a card that read ‘To the Best Daddy in the world!’ on the front. His thumb pulled the card open, and with his heart beating ever so loudly, Harry began to read.

To Daddy. 

Aren’t you happy I’m out of the womb now? Now we can chat and have kisses at what ever ridiculous time of night without waking Mummy up! I’m so glad that I get to be your’s and Mummy’s sweet girl forever now.

While I’ve been growing in her tummy, me and Mummy have been having some serious talks about our future - just stuff like not being fussy with food and going to bed properly the first time. I said to her I couldn’t promise that but I did say I would help her ask something. 

Mummy said she loves you very much and has loved you the moment you gave her a pink rose outside of Scoundrels when she was 15. She said you tried to do this once before, but she got really scared and ran away. She hopes you’ve forgiven her for it, she never meant to hurt you. All she wants is to give you as much love as she can. What she’s trying to ask is if you’ll marry her… but she thinks it’d be much cuter if I asked - so here it goes. 

WILL YOU MARRY MY MUMMY? xo

By the time Harry looked up from the card, Indigo held open a ring box, that hand the most stunning carvings within the black coated ring. 

“So what do you say?” Indigo said with a nervous smile on her face; their sweet baby angel cooing in her arms. 

“Will you marry me?”

[joe-mazzello-archive]

Agape - Chapter Ten

A Joe Mazzello x Fem!Reader fic

Rating: 18+

Chapter Ten

Warnings: Language, allllll of the fluff Word Count: 1858 A/N: Welp, here we are! Thus ends my first Joe fic. Thanks for the support! Look out for a sneak peek of my next fic coming soon!

-

You adjusted your dress, wiggling so the tight fabric rested in the right spot. You gave yourself a onceover in the full length mirror before you nodded with satisfaction at your reflection’s appearance. You were pleased with how the dress hugged your body. Your eyes flickered up to your own face, smiling at how your makeup had been chosen to compliment the color of the dress. Suddenly you felt hands grab your hips and a kiss was placed on the back of your neck, Joe appearing in the mirror behind you.

“You look stunning,” he said, giving your hips a squeeze. You turned to face him, arms circling his neck, eyes raking up and down his body. He was wearing a light navy suit with a white dress shirt buttoned all the way up, his classic look.

“And you look fine as hell,” you replied, causing Joe to throw his head back in laughter.

“Maybe I should wear full suits more often,” he said before capturing you in a kiss. You smiled against his lips.

“I would not be opposed to that,” you countered before kissing him again.

“Yeah, this is why I waited to apply your lipstick,” your makeup artist said as he walked into the room. You pulled away from Joe with a giggle.

The day had finally come. The press tour had finished and it was the day of the premiere. You were a mix of emotions, your head swimming and your stomach filled with butterflies. You felt proud of the work you and Joe had done on the project, but you still felt nervous about how people would receive the film.

You had also been thinking a lot about your career lately. In the time between wrapping Agape and starting the press tour, you couldn’t help but feel like you were ready for a break. You had continued to mull it over during the press tour, but you hadn’t mentioned anything to Joe. You were a little nervous as to what his response would be. Especially since he was the main reason you wanted to take time off. You worried that telling him that you wanted to take a break to focus on your relationship would scare him off.

You tried to push all of your stress out of your mind and focus on what was right in front of you.

“Well we need to be heading out within the next five minutes, so let’s go ahead and get her makeup done please!” your manager shouted from the other room. You shook your head lovingly and let go of Joe. He gave you a final kiss on the cheek before leaving you and your makeup artist alone.

After applying the finishing touches to your makeup, you, Joe, and your respective teams piled into a few town cars and headed to the theater. You sat in the backseat of the car, Joe’s arm around your shoulders as you leaned into his side. He gently traced circles on your arm as you sighed, completely content. Anytime Joe held you, you were overcome with how safe and happy you felt in his arms.

“Excited?” he asked.

“I’m excited and anxious, and yet, I’m feeling really relaxed. I guess you have that effect on me,” you replied. Joe squeezed you tighter.

“Well I’m glad I can help.” You sighed happily and closed your eyes, focusing on nothing but the feeling of Joe’s arm holding you.

“I think I want to take some time off from work.” Your eyes went shot open, the words surprising you as they came out of your mouth. You immediately looked up at Joe, expecting him to be mirroring your look of surprise. Instead he seemed unfazed.

“And why’s that?” he calmly asked, his hand landing on your thigh and patting it affectionately.

“I, uh...I’m just ready for a break,” you stammered, his calm demeanor causing you to stumble over your words. “I’ve been doing a lot of projects back to back. And I want to just slow down a bit.” Joe took one of your freshly manicured hands and kissed your knuckles.

“Well then I think taking a break is a good idea,” he replied. “Especially if taking a break means I get to see you more.” You smiled.

“Actually, about that…I was thinking about something recently,” you said as the car pulled up to the theater.

“And what’s that?”

“I was thinking about maybe moving back to New York.” Before Joe could respond, the car door opened, and your driver offered his hand for you. You looked back at a flabbergasted Joe, throwing him a quick wink before stepping out onto the red carpet.

The crowd erupted in cheers and cameras flashed all around you as you gained your composure. You stepped aside to allow Joe to get out of the car, the noise of the crowd only increasing. Joe’s hand immediately found the small of your back as the two of you began to work your way down the carpet.

The two of you alternated between posing for photos and talking to reporters. You answered questions about the filming process, working with Julia, and your excitement for the film. Some interviewers asked about your budding romance, as the Wired video had recently come out online, so your relationship had been made public. You both gave your rehearsed, respectable answers as you tried to steer the questions back towards the film itself.

Eventually the two of you made your way into the theater, taking your seats. You felt a rush of excitement and nerves; this would be your first time seeing the film in its final cut. Immediately sensing your anxiety, Joe squeezed your thigh reassuringly. You looked up at him with a smile, taking his hand in yours and interlocking your fingers. He pulled you closer to him.

“If you move back to New York, I want you to move in with me,” he said softly, so only you could hear.

You were suddenly overcome with emotions. You had been so worried about Joe’s reaction to you wanting to take a break to spend more time with him. But here he was telling you that he wanted to you live with him. You could almost cry. You couldn’t even speak, your words caught in your throat.

“I love you,” you finally managed to say. Joe smiled, kissing the hand he held in his own.

“I love you too, baby.”

The lights went down and the film began.

You didn’t let go of Joe’s hand the entire movie. You watched with bated breath as Ruby and Desmond experienced all eight types of love. Desmond experienced eros with his relationship with Talia. Ruby experienced mania with her obsessive ex Perry. Desmond experienced philia with his best friend Ben. Ruby experienced ludus with her summer fling Eliza. Desmond experienced storge with his father. Ruby experienced pragma watching her grandparents’ relationship and philautia by learning to love herself. And finally, you watched, hand squeezing your own true love’s hand, as Ruby and Desmond found agape with each other.

As you watched the final scene, you were overflowing with emotions. You had truly just watched yourself and Joe fall in love. Only the two of you knew the truth: that the final shots of Ruby and Desmond were not Ruby and Desmond. They were you and Joe, and there was no acting involved.

When the lights came up, the audience exploded with cheers and applause. Tears streamed down your face as everyone got to their feet around you. Joe helped you stand, and when you looked at him, he was crying too. He pulled you into him, wrapping his arms around you as your arms circled his neck.

Your heart swelled as you reflected on the last several months. You had poured your heart out into a project that you really cared about and were extremely proud of the result. What had started as a simple crush on your co-star had resulted in you falling in love with the most amazing man you’d ever met. And that man hadn’t run for the hills when things got hard.

You pulled away slightly, but Joe didn’t let you get far before he grabbed your face and pulled you into a kiss. You felt your cheeks redden as you knew that all eyes were on the two of you as the crowd continued to applaud. But you didn’t care. You yourself had found agape.

EPILOGUE - Four months later

You lifted the lid off the pot, inhaling the garlicky aroma of the sauce while the meatballs cooked. You never got tired of that smell.

“What smells so fucking good?” Joe shouted from somewhere in the house. You chuckled.

“Why don’t you come find out?” you shouted back. He appeared a few moments later, his face lighting up with realization.

“Are you making what I think you’re making?” he asked, moving to wrap his arms around your waist.

“I figured I hadn’t made them in awhile, so we were overdue,” you replied. He gave you a sloppy kiss on the cheek and squeezed you tighter.

“I fall more in love with you every day,” he said before letting you go. You giggled as he gave you a light slap on the ass, leaving you to continue cooking.

You heard your phone buzz on the counter.

“Babe? Can you grab that for me? It’s been buzzing for like five minutes.” Before he could respond, Joe’s phone buzzed on the coffee table. You looked at each other and shrugged, both moving to grab your respective phones. You looked at the screen that had been flooded with text message notifications.

Leah: Congrats!!!!! I’m so happy for you and Joe!!! Aaron: I am so proud of you! Shelby: Answer your phone!!!! I need to talk to you!

You scrolled through the notifications, confusion plaguing you.

“Oh my god,” Joe suddenly said, glaring wide-eyed at his phone screen.

“What?”

“We got nominated.”

Your confusion increased, not understanding what he was talking about. Until another message on your screen caught your eye.

Shelby: You’re officially an Oscar nominee! How do you feel?

Your jaw dropped. Before you could say anything, you found yourself being lifted into the air.

“I told you! I told you it was gonna happen!” Joe shouted as he spun you around. You could barely process the news, your head was swimming. Joe finally put you down and pulled you in for a searing kiss. After a moment, you relaxed into the kiss, your hands sliding into his hair. You pulled away after a few seconds, feeling a bit lightheaded. Joe must have noticed because he held your shoulders tightly.

“Are you okay?” he asked. Suddenly, you burst into tears, and Joe’s face twisted into one of concern. You began to laugh, tears falling down your face.

“I’m just really fucking happy,” you cried out. Joe’s face softened before he pulled you into an embrace.

“Me too, baby. Me too,” he replied before peppering your face with kisses. “I love you and I’m so proud of you.” You brought his forehead to yours.

“I love you too, Joe.”

[sea-side-scribbles]

Fanfiction: Sympathy For A Downer

Link: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/55428778

Chapter 8:

Nick still felt a bit uneasy passing by his fans, fearing that they could recognize him any moment by his movements, his height, his eye color or even his scent. He was tensed up and avoided to look anyone in the eye until he was finally safe and still in one piece. The rest of the way to the hotel he was much more relaxed, walked around just as jolly and lively as everyone else and found that this undercover-stroll could be really amusing, at least if he wasn’t surrounded by fans. 

He lost his smile again when he saw another mass of Wellies gathering before the Avalon. Even there!, he thought desperately. The entire town was crazy today! Still, he noticed with relief that no one of them was dressed like him, so it had to be something else they gathered around. An accident maybe.

He joined the mass and asked the first person he met what was going on.

„What’s going on? It was in the News Hour!“, the citizen was shocked. 

„Uh…I forgot the news…too much Joy, haha…“, Nick said nervously and scratched the back of his head.

„Birdie Callagher sings in the Avalon today!“, the man explained and widened his arms in a solemn gesture as if he expected Nick to applaud.

Nick was dumbfounded. „Uh…who?“

„You’re living under a rock? Birdie Callagher is the best singer in town! She has all it takes to become the new voice of Wellington Wells! If only I made it inside, I could see her!“, the man shouted and continued to stare daggers at the hotel, probably thinking hard about how to get in.

Nick needed a bit to process the mind blowing news he just heard. But then he knew he needed to see this girl.

He took a closer look at the pass that was attached to the other man’s suit and stated: „You’re from the O’Courant.“ 

The other man crossed his arms. „So what? Does it bother you?“

Nick looked around as if he was making sure that no one listened to them and confidentially whispered to the reporter: „I can bring you in. I know a secret passage into the bar.“

„You’d do that for me?“, the man was surprised.

„Sure, I’m just doing a favor to a fellow colleague,“ he lied, winking at him.

So they both sneaked away from the crowd and went into the park that surrounded the hotel, reaching the place were Nick had created himself a second entrance. He removed the grating from the vent and pointed at it, bowing his head. „After you…“

„I should remember this trick…“ the reporter said and started to climb into the shaft when Nick made use of the second syringe for today. Two in one day!, he thought, catching the other man before he could hit the ground. That was a new record. He should refill his storage. 

He took the press pass and dumped the reporter in the next trash bin. The fellow citizen shouldn’t remember any of this later. Prepared like this, Nick climbed into the shaft and soon he entered the bar that was well filled with people who were cheering and clapping and it seemed to be that the fun was already over. Nick struggled through the mass, trying to at least catch a glimpse at this curious new songbird. 

And then he saw her, gracefully striding on past the lightning cameras with fluid movements. Even her dress seemed to run down along her, emphasizing her curvy body shape. Her golden hair swirled around her upper body in heavy waves that fell down to her hips and bounced at each movement. He saw how the cameras loved her, the way she gave her adorable smile with bright white teeth and how she blew kisses into the air. She couldn’t be much younger than Nick, but she looked as excited as a child at christmas that just randomly happened to be grown into the body of a goddess. 

This hair can’t be real, Nick thought to himself. 

Then she lifted the microphone to her glossy lips and her silky voice echoed in the room.

„Thank you everyone for coming here and thank you for all your support! It was so much fun to sing for you and I hope we’ll see each other again some day…“

Nick had stopped moving a long time ago while the others started cheering and clapping again. He watched this supernatural being float into a corner of the room and sitting down at a table where another reporter or whatever already waited for her. The hotel staff began to push the masses out of the bar and they sluggishly set themselves in motion. Nick would’ve followed them all in defeat and searched another bar to drown all his sorrows in scotch if he wouldn’t have seen a familiar face sitting at the table, that made him first startle in horror and then falling into uncontrollable rage.

Again, he struggled through the mass, ignored the boys who shouted after him („Sir, you’re not allowed to trespass, sir!“) and went directly to the said table from where the two were staring at him. He walked so calmly that he didn’t seem to be too dangerous. 

„Do I know you?“, Virgil was able to ask before Nick grabbed him and hurled him over the table. He didn’t really fly over it, he rather crashed on the top and slid along the rest of the way until he slumped down on the other side. Birdie screamed and jumped up and someone else in the distance shouted: „Downer!“

Nick walked around the table, passing by Birdie.

„You better stand off, dearie, this is gonna be nasty,“ he hissed at her while she stared at him in horror. The next moment he saw stars because Virgil had struggled up and returned the favor. 

Later they both laid on the ground, thrashing each other without mercy. Nick just raised his fist for another blow on Virgil’s bruised face when he noticed out of the corner of his eye that he was approached by men with an alarming body size. Bobbies! He frantically jumped up and bolted out of the bar, followed by just like every staff member, the outraged guests and the constables. 

With panic he noticed that he couldn’t go back to the vent because a crowd had gathered there, so he ran out of the wide double doors of the main entrance and down the numerous stone stairs, past the golden statue of himself that seemed to sneer at him. He heard nothing but the pattering of feet and screams, all so loud as if the whole world was collapsing around him and he forced himself forward, praying he wouldn’t stumble because this would be his end. 

On the street the panic went on because everyone who was running raised suspicion, and Nick couldn’t stop. The fact that even hysterical Wellies didn’t like to seek into back alleys saved his live. This and the amount of trash bins in such alleys. He could hide there, but the whole town was still alarmed and the way he looked all shredded made it impossible for him to walk around.

He curled up into a ball, all rage had vanished and only his sorrows were left.

What a day! He had started this so hopefully and now he had experienced the certain end of his career. Birdie Callagher was ravishing! There was no way he could compete with her. No wonder Virgil was after her. And now, he had nowhere to go. His suite was lost for him, he couldn’t go back there and every other place fell flat too because he couldn’t show up anywhere looking like this. Not even in the tunnels, because Arthur was there. 

In fact, there was only one person Nick could show himself like this and that exact person hated him too. Nick was scared to show up there. But what chance did he have?

He waited until dawn before he left his hiding spot and made his way to the house he thought he’ll never visit again. It felt unreal to simply walk through the front yard and ring the bell. 

„Please be there…“ Nick whispered to himself.

The intercom cracked.

„Who’s there?“

Nick gulped.

„Morrie?“, he sighted into the intercom, because he didn’t want to make any noise and also because his voice failed him.

„It’s me…“

„Sorry, I can barely hear you…“ the intercom answered.

„It’s me, Nick,“ he said, raising his voice a little. For a split second he had considered to say ‚Norbert‘.

„Nick…“ the voice turned into a hiss. „get off my property right now, or I’ll smash your brains in! This is my one and only warning!“

Nick flinched. It was even worse than he had expected.

„Please, this is an emergency! The bobbies are chasing me, together with half the town! You have to let me in!“

The intercom silenced and Nick feared that Morrie wouldn’t answer. When the other man spoke again, his voice was more like an upset whisper.

„Please, tell me you didn’t kill someone…“

„What? No…what gives you that idea?“, Nick stuttered, having an unsettling flashback to the moment Bates had accused him too. Who was telling people he was a murderer?

„Rumors“, he simply said. „Well, if all is fine and dandy, why don’t you ask your fans for help? I bet they’d love to save their hero.“

„I’d do that, but…but…“, Nick stammered desperately, looking at himself.

„Please, Morrie, I have nowhere to go!“ He curled his fingers into his dirty hair and a sob escaped him.

„You should audition for the theater, they’d love that.“

„Please, they think I’m a downer. They’ll chase me off the town. Or lock me in Hayworth’s Lab. Please, help me,“ Nick begged and sobbed more while the intercom fell quiet again.

Finally, Morrie gave a loud sight.

„Fine. I’m coming.“ 

Suddenly Nick felt very nervous and was busy cleaning his face until the door opened.

and the slender figure of Morrie Memento stepped out. At the sight of Nick he quickly covered his eyes with one hand.

„Whoa, you really buckle down to convince me, do you?“

„With these rags?“, Nick asked, playing dumb and holding up his arms. „I didn’t know you like that.“ He tried a smile but Morrie only gave him a gloomy look and pointed at the open door.

„Come in,“ he said and Nick obeyed. 

He watched the other man lock the door and felt quite lost in his corridor, not knowing what to say. Morrie turned around again and led him up the stairs into the first floor where he had a guestroom. 

„You stay here for the night,“ he ordered when Nick entered the room. „I swear, if you leave this room I’ll kick you out!“

„Alright,“ was everything Nick could say before Morrie shut the door in his face. 

Sorrowful, he walked over to the bed and slumped down on it, asking himself what he had expected. A happy reunion? Now he was at least safe and didn’t have to show his face around. But he wished he could tell Morrie that he was finished and all alone, he wished he had someone to listen. If only he hadn’t sold him out back then. He didn’t even remember what he exactly did and why, but according to Morrie’s reaction it must’ve been horrible. Morrie had always carried himself gracefully. He had never threatened to smash anyone’s brains in. And now all his sympathy for Nick was gone, there was nothing left but bitterness and hate. He wanted to run away, but he was trapped in here now, because of his own fault.

When he wiped his face with his sleeve he heard that Morrie started to play the piano downstairs. The sound was damped and quiet but it reminded him of a long forgotten time, when he still had his old band and he used to sit next to Morrie, listening to his ideas and figuring out songs together.   It had been fun. Morrie used to tease Nick because he couldn’t read music and Nick took revenge by saying he couldn’t write a single song that wasn’t a twenty-minutes long monster that no one could listen to without knotting all his synapses together. The memory made him chuckle, but it felt wrong because tears still ran down his cheeks.

He wished he wouldn’t be locked away in here and he could sit next to Morrie again. What remained for him now was closing his eyes and listening to his music as long as he played. 

For a very long moment there was only him and the music until Nick opened his eyes again in surprise, believing he recognized the melody. He could be hearing things of course, could be one of their old songs or an illusion, because he barely heard it. He had to get closer. Morrie had forbidden him to leave the room, but he wouldn’t notice while he was playing, right? 

So Nick sneaked out and sat down at the edge of the stairs to listen carefully. He was sure it wasn’t an old song, but a melody he thought he heard before. He was utterly surprised to find it here. Where did Morrie pick it up? Curiously, he descended the stairs, sat down on the floor and closed his eyes, trying to recall the memory that was hiding from him so stubbornly. For some reason he had to think about a foggy night, wet cobblestone and quick footsteps as if someone was running away. Was it himself? He normally didn’t go for walks outside in the night, except that one time when he got immediately caught by that Parade guy. 

Confused, he wiped his forehead and opened his eyes again, only to realize that the music had stopped. He jumped up but it was too late. Morrie came out of the room, came to a halt and stared at Nick in disbelief. 

Nick held up his hands in defense. „Morrie…don’t be mad. I can explain…“

„You spied on me…“, his former friend whispered angrily.

„No, I…I just wanted to hear you play…“ Nick took one step backwards. 

„I let you in my house and you have nothing better to do!“, Morrie yelled. „…but this time you won’t steal from me! Not again! This time I’m prepared!“ He pulled out a syringe that was slightly bigger than the ones Nick used.

„No!“, Nick screamed and dashed up the stairs. Being still tired from the last chase and climbing the stairs with the last bit of his strength, he was completely out of breath when he reached the first floor. Knowing that he couldn’t keep this up he ran into the guest room and crouched under the bed in fear. Shortly after, Morrie stormed in and Nick didn’t dare to breathe. However he couldn’t stop the tears that ran down his face. This whole day was horrible and it was all so unfair! It wasn’t even Morrie’s song, he only took it from somewhere and merged it into his own. Nick pressed his face down on the floor and silently cried into the carpet. It didn’t take long until Morrie found him.

„Hello Nickie, time to take your medicine!“

Nick yelled and squeezed himself against the wall but Morrie succeeded to catch his arm.

„Come out, Nickie, I promise it only stings a little, and then you’ll be blessed with oblivion!“

He pulled Nick’s arm closer, turned it around and pushed back the sleeve.

„No, please don’t do this!“, Nick cried and pulled at his arm in panic. „I don’t want forget! I don’t want to forget what we had, I don’t want to forget that I saw you again, I don’t want to forget that I miss you!“

The grip on his arm loosened and the hand that held the syringe stopped moving.

„I miss you, Morrie…“, Nick sobbed. „Please, you can kick me out, but leave me the memory.“

Finally, the other man let go of him and Nick quickly pulled his arm back and curled up. He noticed that Morrie slumped down on the ground next to the bed.

„Shit…“, he whispered with a shaking voice.

Nick still didn’t move, waiting for Morrie to decide on his fate.

„I won’t kick you out…But for your own sake,…don’t eavesdrop again…,“ Nick heard him say. The anger vanished from his voice and made way for something that sounded more like hesitancy.

„Thank you, Morrie. You’re saving my life,“ Nick said, carefully minding every word.

„The melody…will you use it?“ There was something bitter in Morrie’s voice now.

„I think I’ve heard it before…“, Nick replied, trying to get the answer his head won’t give him.

„Someone hummed it from a rooftop, what is rather strange,“ Morrie gave a bitter laugh.

„I won’t use it. I promise.“

Morrie sighted deeply and slowly stood up.

„If you want to take a shower…well, you know where it is.“

With that weird dismissal, he left Nick alone again. But to be fair, after hiding in a bin two times Nick really needed a shower. His legs were still shaking when he walked along the corridor to the bathroom. He avoided to look into the mirror while he took off the dirty suit and stepped into the shower. The hot water was very comforting, even if it hurt a little in the wounds. Into the soft rushing of the water he hummed the melody the way he remembered it, wondering what kind of a person would walk on a rooftop. Could only be someone crazy. 

After showering the force of habit took over him and he looked into the mirror, causing himself to startle backwards. He barely recognized himself. His shorter, darker hair was completely messed up so he combed it with his fingers as good as he could. He didn’t dare to touch anything of Morrie’s stuff after all.

Back in the guestroom he laid down on the bed and stared sadly at the ceiling, the feeling of loneliness taking over him again. Thinking about everything that had happened today, he could certainly say that he had lost the last few friends he had left in the world. Virgil had given up on him, and even if he hadn’t recognized him in the Avalon, Nick would have to deliver him something convincing to get a second chance. And from where should he get that? His mind was still empty, he lost Sally as his muse and whatever he had dreamed about Arthur had vanished into thin air. His heart ached when he thought about it and he couldn’t even numb himself with party favors and spend the rest of his life in dense felicity because he now had an overseer who would bring him to Hayworth if he broke the rules again. 

Perhaps he should break his promise and use the mysterious song. He needed it much more than Morrie did…

No, no, no!

He slapped his forehead.

Bad Nick! Very, very, bad Nick! This is the reason why you have no friends!

 - read the rest on AO3 : https://archiveofourown.org/works/22737214/chapters/55428778