#and that’s how lambert started taking much longer in the bathroom

[the-butch-of-blaviken]

who takes longer in the bathroom? Lambert or Keira?

The obvious answer is Keira, because she’s very meticulous about her appearance and probably has a 17-step skincare routine, while Lambert does a quick shave in the morning and washes his face with plain soap and running water, because that’s all the men in his family have ever done (which has Keira internally screaming).

BUT (because the other way around is so much funnier), the day they officially moved in together, Keira brought along all her products, shampoos, lotions, creams, balms, perfumes, and claimed a not insignificant portion of the space in Lambert’s bathroom.

He complained about it, of course, but couldn’t help being vaguely curious about why exactly Keira would need so many different things to do something that takes him exactly ten minutes. (He’s never moved in with a woman before; he’s seen some of his exes’ bathrooms, but they weren’t close enough for him to feel comfortable digging through their stuff.)

So he studies the packages, examines the composition, opens some of them to take a sniff (and wrinkles his nose at the artificial scents), sometimes even tries them on when he has a pretty good idea of what they’re for and how to use them. It’s not an unpleasant experience. He had no idea the skin of his legs and arms wasn’t supposed to feel so dry; he just thought it was part of those things in life you simply had to deal with.

But Keira is beginning to get part suspicious and part worried, because Lambert has never taken that long in the bathroom before, so she takes a peek in, just to check that he didn’t hit his head and fall in the shower. When she sees him with one of her lotions in hand, she rushes in, saying, “these are EXPENSIVE, why couldn’t you just ask me, you’re only supposed to use this one after a cleansing lotion in the evenings, and you don’t even know your skin type—”

Lambert is embarrassed to be caught trying on such terribly girly products, but Keira will have none of it and is very much willing to explain how everything is supposed to be used after she’s calmed down :)

[finelinevogue]

an award-winning love

Description - Harry invites you, his wife, as his plus one to the Grammys

A/N - hope you enjoy this lengthy fic of harry in his leather suit from last year! this is a fic inspired to get you hyped for the grammy’s tonight!

warnings: swearing, too-hot-to-handle-harry

Never had there been this many nerves flying around your household.

It was Grammy day and everything was pure chaos. Well, more mentally chaotic than physically. Everyone was where they needed to be and everything was done that needed to be done - and yet somehow everyone was still freaking out. You were trying to remain calm for everyone, but even you were starting to freak out a little.

You and Harry had woken up at 6am together. Harry had mentioned how he wanted to get an early gym session in before he truly began his big day. So you'd gotten up and worked out with him for a heavy hour. He pushed you really hard and you did the same. You were each others motivation, but boy did you make each others muscles kill after your session.

Coming back to your bathroom to shower off ended up taking a lot longer than you had originally intended. Harry couldn't keep his hands off you, so it inevitably ended up with you two enjoying two rounds of sex before even making it to the shower - where you did it again. Being with each other and showering each other with love and affection seemed to calm you both down - at least for that portion of the day.

Harry Lambert and his team had appeared at 9am to start their pre-Grammy work on your boyfriend. At 11am they were going to announce the winner of the 'Best Music Video', in the pre-Grammy show and you were very excited, but nervous. Harry would have to go on a zoom call with every other nominee and wait to see if his name gets called.

It was currently 10:45, which is why it was chaos.

Harry had gotten his hair done, styled to perfection, and had been given a Gucci shirt and sweater to put on the top half of his body. He was being brave and not going dressed on his bottom half, admitting that no one will see anyways. It was funny to see him walk around in Calvin Klein briefs and then a yellow Gucci shirt with blue Gucci sweater.

You weren't complaining though.

"Here you go Mr Grammy-Nominated-Styles!" Glenne handed Harry a glass of expensive champagne, to which he laughed at.

"Thank you - even though I haven't won anything yet." He took the glass and placed it on the coffee table in front of him. He had set up his laptop in the lounge, sitting on the comfortable velvet sofa to calm him. He thought about sitting in the study, but felt that would be too formal for a stay-at-home awards show.

You were standing off to the side, drinking you ice-cold water, watching as Harry was interacting with Jeff as he rehearsed his acceptance speech again and again. You'd helped him write most of it, but you suggested it needed a professional opinion like Jeff's to solidify it. Glenne started talking to Kendra, one of Harry Lambert's assistants, and Harry, himself, was busy pouring himself a glass of Prosecco and nibbling on the few snacks you'd made.

Looking at Harry you'd never felt so much pride.

He had made it exactly where he never believed he would. Winning a Brit is one thing, but winning a Grammy - well that was something worth crying over. You would bet money on him crying during his acceptance speech, but then he would purposefully not cry just so he could win. You'd only been with Harry since 2017, when his solo career really took off, but the happiness you felt for him was larger than anyone else's in the room - not that it was a competition.

The iPhone in your pocket started to ring and so you picked it up as quickly as you could. You only had your ringer on for Harry and for your family; specifically your mum.

"Hello mum." You answered, knowing it was her without having to look at the ID.

"Y/N, darling! I can't find the right channel to watch the Grammy's, what do I do?" She asked quickly and you looked to the clock to see it was nearly time for it to start. You mum had always been so proud of Harry and his achievements. He was looked after, by her, like the son she never had. When you had informed her of Harry being nominated for such a prestigious award she cried on the phone with you for almost half-an-hour. It was embarrassing to be honest, but then you think about how you reacted and maybe she was just a little bit calmer than you.

"Mum calm down, Jesus!" You laughed at her before walking into the sun room, which was like the lounge however the whole room was floor-to-ceiling in glass so the sun would always shine in it - perfect in summer - where there was a TV to check the channel for her.

"Is Harry okay?" She asked you, hearing her potter around on the other end of the line. Your mum had a tendency to always have to be doing something - she could never sit around for anything unless it was super important. She had to leave the auditorium when it was your graduation because she'd "sat down too long".

You turned on the TV and flicked through the channels for her. Her and your dad were currently staying downtown - after getting stuck over here because of covid. In some ways it was better though, because you were close by if anything were to happen and you could still go on outdoor walks with them - masks and 6-fix apart permitting. They were renting a little semi-detached house from one of Harry's friends, so they even got it for a discounted price.

"Yeah I think so. Mixture of nerves and excitement." You replied, still flicking through whilst looking at the clock to see you had 2 minutes left.

"Harry!" You heard from the other room, making you instantly think that he probably spilled the champagne down his Gucci clothes - because man was he messy. He could never get through a meal without leaving a stain on the tablecloth or accidentally dropping a bit of food on the floor. An absolute man-child he was.

"Tell him he has nothing to be nervous about, from me. He's going to be perfect." She said, and you knew that she meant every word.

"I will do- ah! Channel 74 mum." You told her, before turning the TV back off again. You waited for her to tell you that she'd found it herself before telling her that you were going to go now.

"Wait, Y/N. Did you tell him yet?" Your mum asked you carefully. You stood in the middle of the sun room, looking out onto the lush, green, grass in your back garden. Harry had just cut it yesterday so the smell of freshly cut grass could still be smelt through the Californian breeze - it was beautiful. The weather today, too, was just perfect - obviously knowing that it was a very important day for your Harry.

"No I haven't told him yet, stop pestering me about it. Go watch the Grammy's and then i'll call you later on okay?" You rhetorically asked her, before sending each other your best wishes and hanging up.

Today was supposed to be about Harry entirely - not about you. But you were torn. Torn, because Harry was a part of your news too, but how do you tell a man who's far too caught up in his Grammy world that his wife is pregnant?

That's why you were a bunch of nerves.

Of course, you were apprehensive for Harry and him winning the awards, but you were so much more nervous about telling him you were pregnant. You'd only known for a three days now. The first day you freaked out and cried on the phone to your mum for hours - luckily Harry had been in the studio all day. The second day, you were so in shock and Harry was doing so much last minute Grammy prep and rehearsals that you couldn't find the right moment. Then today - well surely you couldn't drop it on him today.

It wasn't necessarily planned but it wasn't unexpected either. You had come off birth control a while ago, after it was really negatively effecting your mental health and the doctor had decided it was for the best to stop taking it, so sex with Harry had been raw ever since. There was never any conversations about trying for a baby, but you knew Harry wouldn't be opposed to the idea.

"Oi you. What are you up to in here?" Harrys voice brought you back from your thoughts and straight to him. You laughed at his appearance, finding the half-dressed thing very funny.

"Admiring the view." You giggled as he wiggled his eyebrows in response, before posing as if he were in a Vogue photoshoot. "Ooh didn't know i'd married a model." You teased him, walking over to him and swung your arms around his neck.

"Baby, you didn't just marry a model. You married the sexiest man on this bloody floating rock." He tried to talk in his raspiest voice, which he knew set you off in a frenzy. It turned the hairs on the back of your neck on, heightening your senses. He knew what he was doing, just as much as you did. You were both heavy teases, although never willing to admit that to each other.

"Harry!" Someone called from the other room, clearly getting wary of time and lack of it husbands presence.

"Go," you kept ahold of him around your arms, "I love you." You reminded him, hoping he understood that you were proud of him regardless the outcome of this evening. Being nominated was enough to make you proud for a lifetime already.

"I love you." He nodded, kissing you quickly but passionately once on your lips before leaving the room. He did a bit of a dad jog back to the other room, you watching him go whilst relishing the feel of his lips against yours. The impression that he left upon you was so electrifying it was scary. He completely woke up everything inside of you. He was that switch that lit up the brightest lightbulb in the room. Never faulting.

After a minute of thinking about Harry you left to follow him, knowing he'd greatly appreciate you being there for him tonight. You didn't want him to be sat there alone going through a new and unfamiliar process. Sure he'd been to the Brits or Arias, but this was a different league altogether. It was the Super Bowl or the Oscars of music.

As you walked into the room, the man was already running through the categories. Harry was sat there nervously tapping his foot, but looking like he knew he wasn't going to win. He was so agitated. You crept over to where he was, making sure you weren't in shot of the camera and started stroking the bare skin on his leg. Skin contact for Harry was always really calming - especially from you - so you knew he'd appreciate you being exactly where you were. Jeff and Glenne were sat over on the other sofa.

"And the Grammy goes to... Beyoncé—" You stopped listening after that, not because you were being rude against the amazing artist that won but because you wanted to make sure Harry was ok.

"Sorry man." Jeff patted Harrys back, having gotten out of his chair to comfort his best mate. "We'll have to go soon though, ok?" Jeff made sure Harry clear with that. With Harry being the first performance of the Grammys meant that he'd need to be there early in order to get ready. He'd already done sound checks, it was a matter of getting dressed and in position.

"Yeah sorry H." Glenne stated, before walking out of the room leaving just you and him.

You knew that it wasn't words that he needed it was just someone. You would gladly be that for him. Slowly getting up, you came and sat down next to him on the sofa and curled up into his side. He immediately moved his arms to cradle you and rested his head on top of yours. You took his hands in yours and began to play with his rings like you always found yourself doing. The smallest of interactions together calmed him.

This moment was exactly why you loved him.

He didn't lash out over a loss, nor would he have been excessive if he had won. He congratulated Beyoncé for winning and felt sorry for himself for a little bit, but the important part was that he was able to pick himself back up. He could bounce back. He found the she sunshine in the darkest of places, and for that you would be eternally proud of him.

"Harry, we need to go mate." Harry Lambert made an appearance five minutes later to inform you both that things needed to start moving again.

"Yeah, ok." He sighed, squeezing onto your hand tightly. "C'mon love, let's go." He kissed your forehead twice before helping you up and off the couch. Before you could leave the room he pulled you right back to him. He pushed a small strand of hair behind your ear and cupped your cheek with his other hand.

"You okay?" You asked, looking into his eyes. Although he wore a smile on his face you could tell by looking into his eyes he was disappointed. You hoped he only knew that he was never a disappointment to you.

"With you here, yes." He smiled genuinely, it even reading the crinkles by his eyes. "Thank you." You nodded at him, not understanding what he was thanking you for but allowing him to do so anyways. Whatever he needed to help him through this little bump in the road you would let him do.

•••••

It was nearly show-time.

Everyone was currently backstage at the Grammys and working hard, ready for the grand opening. Harry was opening with a performance of 'Watermelon Sugar' and it was such a huge deal for him. He had gotten the call late at night, when you two were cuddled up on the couch watching 'Peaky Blinders' - let's just say after he put the phone down there was a lot less watching TV along with a lot less clothes.

It was just you and Harry in the wings right now. The band had gone to their performance area to get set up and tune their instruments. Harry had his in-ears in and was ready to go, but just wanted to spend a few more moments with you if he could.

Harry had actually wanted to perform 'Treat People With Kindness' with the full choreography and everything, but Jeff had thought it might be a little too much. Considering he was up for a grammy because of 'Watermelon Sugar' Jeff thought it would be more fitting to perform that one. He did have a point - although now imagining Harry dancing in this leather suit was getting you seriously riled up.

You felt like a fairy princess in your dress and heels this evening. The dress was made of gorgeous emerald silk and hugged your body in the best places. It fitted like a dream. Gucci had done well, you thought. Harry was dressed up in his goddamn hot, leather, suit and feather boa. When he had told you "expect the unexpected" as you asked what he would be wearing, you were still completely shocked. In awe, actually. He looked amazing. All those gym sessions weren't for nothing.

He was so unbelievably pretty and yet portrayed a rock God too. Your husband had range.

"Stop looking at me like that, Mrs." Harry caught you looking at him. You couldn't take your eyes off the man. He was just so... wow. There wasn't a good enough word to describe his beauty in this moment.

"Like what?" You blushed - so much so that it was no doubt showing through the light dusting of makeup on your face.

"Like you're going to pounce on me at any moment." He chuckled to himself, making you blush even more and turn to walk away from him. You couldn't be dealing with him teasing you right now -  especially around all these other celebrities. Billie, for example, was close by and you were too big of a fan of her to find out she was judging you.

You didn't get very far away from Harry though, as he swung his feather boa around you and pulled you back towards him, twirling you around in the process, somehow, so your chest hit his when you collided. Now you understood the real reason he was wearing a feather boa.

"Dickhead." You mumbled, not meaning your words at all and Harry knew that.

"I'm sorry. Forgive me?" He asked, pouting his soft lips and somehow making his eyes look adorable in aid of you forgiving him. You swiped your tongue across your teeth in pretend frustration and then leant up to plant him a quick kiss.

"You're forgiven." You told him, leaning back down. You felt the boa tighten around you, though, as Harry kept you infinitely close.

"Well, you're not. What kind of a kiss was that, huh?" Harry asked, referring to the quick kiss you'd just given him. The heat returned to your cheeks at the though of other people being able to see this little showdown. Harry wasn't as shy as you when it came to public displays of affection, and sometimes he forgot that.

"You get more, after you go shake ass in your performance." You promised, before planting a longing kiss to his cheek - like you did before every show you'd been at of his. It was your good luck charm from you to him, and it seemed to work every time. "Proud of you." You looked into his dreamy eyes, deciding that you would write a thank you letter to everyone who had helped you reach this moment. Literally everyone - even your Headteacher of your primary school if you had to.

"Proud of you too." He smiled, before unwrapping you from the boa, making is way over towards the stage set-up and ready to absolutely kill it with his performance.

And what a bloody performance it was. Literal chills.

You were so hot the entire time. The way he sung so angelically. The way he exposed his bare chest like that. The way he danced a little with his backup singers. The way he did in fact shake ass - whether that was to prove a point to you or not, you didn't care at this point. His performance was like no other before and you were honoured to have gotten to see it in person.

His fans were definitely not okay, right now.

He bowed to signify the end of his performance and the monitor showed it was moving on to a different segment for now. This gave Harry the opportunity to run over to you and shower you with post-performance adrenaline.

"And?" He asked self-consciously, with a slight American twang to his voice.

"Mhm." You nodded, trying so hard to contain yourself. Watching him perform had left you feeling very needy between the legs and now having him stand directly in front of you, holding you against his slightly sweaty body made the issue even more prominent.

"Mhm? That's it?" He asked, stepping back in slight disappointment over your lack of words.

You bit your lip as you watched him speak before registering how your silence had been taken as a bad thing to him - which was quite the opposite. You leant up to his ear, his arms tightening around you thinking that you were giving him a generous hug. "Would you rather me shout out to everyone about how wet I am over your performance?" You whispered to him, feeling him tense up in your arms.

Harry's eyes went wide and he let out a little cough at how forwards you were. Normally you were shy about admitting things like that, but obviously this evening's performance had done something to you to encourage your confidence. It was hot. So hot, in fact, that Harry was worried he was soon going to get a painful hard-on.

"No you keep that between you and me Mrs." Harry whispered back into your ear, whilst running his fingers along your exposed back. The shivers he initiated down your spine woke you up completely.

"Then mhm it is." You told him back, before stepping away from him however not before brushing your hand over the front of his trousers.

•••••

"Y/N over here! Harry, Harry!"

The repetitiveness of voices screaming every which direction and blinding lights flashing from every angle, definitely made you appreciate the fact you weren't a well known celebrity. You were glad that it was your husband that was in the spotlight and not you, because having to go through this on every red carpet seemed energy consuming.

Harry kept you close, holding you around your waist. He had been nervous to go on this particular red carpet because of the sheer prestigiousness of the event, so having you by his side made him feel so much more relaxed. It was rare that you and Harry were found on a red carpet together so you definitely would be Twitter trending this evening - getting picked apart by the ever-so-caring fans. Your arm kept home around Harrys waist - the pricks was smaller than yours.

"See that reporter in the white dress, she keeps eyeing you up." Harry leant down to whisper in your ear, making you blush. Harry pinched your side which made you look up at him with adoration, because it was times like this when he got all self conscious. No matter who gave you eyes, yours were only on Harry.

"Well I only have my eyes on you, love." You told him back with confidence to assure him that he was the only one you cared for in that way. "I'm flattered though."

"It's because you look bleedin' smoking this evening." Harry told you making you unconditionally blush again. He was always so charming at the worst of times, because the paparazzi would capture you blushing and assume he said the most crude things to you. You couldn't deny what he was saying, however, because even you had to admit that you looked really hot. The dress was too perfect. You felt empowered and capable.

"Shut up, now." You pinched his side and it made him giggle. Harry was the most ticklish person you'd ever met and you always used that to your advantage.

Then you both turned back to keep on having your photos taken. As it wasn't an official red carpet event to the extent of masses of crowds and hundreds of paparazzi, there wasn't much shuffling along needing to be done. It was quite small but it felt more safe and comfortable like this.

After a few more poses and a few more minutes being blinded Jeff told you to come over for an interview. Harry was running ahead of schedule so Jeff saw no harm in participating in one interview, plus the interviewer was from 'Vanity Fair' so it was also good publicity.

"Stay with me please." Harry spoke to you as he lead you over to where Jeff was standing talking to a guy, who was holding a microphone next to a TV camera. Due to social distancing you had to stay back from everyone, but there was a microphone hovering over the both of you to pick up anything you said.

"'Course." You squeezed his hand to prove that you weren't going anywhere. As much as he wanted you to stick with him, you wanted to stick with him too. These events weren't your cup of tea and so sticking beside someone who provided you with comfort seemed the best idea. In fact Harry was your comfort person. He gave you warmth and support on those days you felt your worst.

The man who would be interviewing Harry was wearing a gorgeous, cream, sheen shirt - to which you could see his chest through - matched with glittery flared pants. The whole outfit was an ultimate serve. He was giving Bowie x Styles vibes from his outfit.

"Hi it's lovely to meet you. Hi." The interviewer started, Jeff notifying you that he was called Kian. You wanted to go up to him and shake his hand, out of human instinct and politeness, but you had to remember that contracting covid was not the plan.

"Hello? Is this on? Oh. Hello!" Harry made a fool of himself by trying to work out whether the microphone was even working, to which you had to show him how to turn it on. Imbecile.

"May I just quickly say you are both looking immaculate this evening." Kian told you both, not just Harry, which made you smile kindly at him.

"She's the better looking one, you can say it." Harry allowed him jokingly, but he really wasn't joking. He was complaining before that you were showing him up by looking so damn beautiful. How was he supposed to compete with you when you looked that hot, he had told you. Personally, you thought he looked better than you did but maybe that's just you being biased.

"Well Gucci always pulls through." Kian laughed, trying to escape that 'who's the better looking one' feud. Harry respected his reply and found himself easing into the interview more. When there was a prick of an interviewer the last thing you want to start doing is crack jokes, but that was Harrys way of calming himself down so he was glad that Kian was so easy going. It made things smoother for Harry, and therefore for Kian.

"How are you?" Harry asked politely - not because he had a front to keep up with but because he was genuinely just a decent guy.

"I'm really good. Beautiful evening, even though it's a little hot in here." He messed with the collar of his shirt a bit.

"It's just you," you reached over to speak into the microphone Harry was holding, needing to compliment this man on his outfit before you never saw him again, "I'm seriously in love with your outfit." You smiled, Harry snatching the microphone back from your grip and shaking his head hysterically.

"You need to calm down." Harry pretended to tell you off whilst Kian was thanking you for your kindness and honesty.

Kian quickly told you about how tonight was a big night for him. It was his first red carpet job and wanted to make a statement. His mum was going to be watching live, who was quite a conservative woman, and so he wanted to show her that he, and mens fashion in general, wasn't limited to your gender, sex, religion, ethnicity or sexuality. You thought the message was inspired and told him that he was definitely making Harry jealous - to which Harry agreed. His outfit was meant to represent gender fluidity and how amazing it is. Kian had to pay thanks to Harry for making him feel comfortable enough to wear this outfit.

"Thank you." Harry would just reply calmly, but you noticed the twinkle in his eye which represented the proudness of himself.

"So to ask a few questions," Kian laughed at how nothing productive had come of this interview as of yet, "How did it feel to perform at the Grammys for the first time and be the opening act?"

"Yeah," Harry laughed, because hearing people state out loud what he'd just done still seemed very surreal, "it was a moment, for sure. I never expected to even be nominated, let alone get the opportunity to perform here so I feel blessed."

"I bet! Watermelon Sugar has peaked within the top ten in more than 20 countries and hit the Billboard number 1 not long ago, so to who do you owe your success?" Kian laughed when he saw Harrys eyes widen at the statistics. Very often Harry stayed clear of the stats as if they were disappointing he would rather have not seen them. On this occasion is was so rewarding to hear.

"Oh god! Well I should probably say my mum and sister for pushing me to pursue music in the first place. Um, my dad was always very encouraging too," he quickly looked down at you as if to debate to say what he wanted to say next, "and if we're talking specifically about Watermelon Sugar then I owe it all to Y/N, right here. Without her there would be no Watermelon Sugar." He said in the most corniest way possible.

God, you loved him though.

"Love you." You mouthed to him, just for him. He mouthed it back without hesitation.

"You two are adorably sickening." Kian awed at you both, watching you both interact with so much love.

"We get that a lot." You chipped in to add a comment, even though it wasn't your interview. Harry agreed with you and turned his attention back towards Kian.

"I guess, just before you go, I wanted to ask what your future plans are. Musically, or even just personally, where would you like to go?" Kian asked, to which your mind ran straight to the fact that you were already starting your next chapter without Harry even knowing. His child was already cooking away, and so close to him, and he hadn't the faintest idea. It felt top secret.

"Oh god wow, that's a question," Harry ran his hand through this hair - which Lambert will have a go at him for in a minute no doubt, "I mean musically I am still working on my sound. I love both my previous albums, but I do still find myself searching for me within them and wondering whether i'm being completely honest—"

"Babe, you're being honest, trust me." You laughed, thinking upon lyrics that he'd written within songs such as Fine Line and To Be So Lonely. How can someone use an exes voicemail message in a song and still think they aren't being open and honest? Fine Line was beautifully raw and had messages within messages. It was a complex arrangement of art and it was as honest as someone swearing on the Bible in court.

Harry giggled at you before rejoining where he'd left off, "but personally there are so many things I want to do. Start a family with this diva for one..." Oh how he was so clueless. You were too caught up in thinking that he was ready for a family to even listen to the rest of his aspirations. They were probably something to do with grandchildren or going to space, you know the usual.

"Thank you so much, man." Kian thanked Harry and held out his elbow instead of giving him a fist bump or a hug. You waved from where you were standing nearer Jeff, letting Harry just have a moment with Kian before you had to be anywhere. He was too polite sometimes.

You stood back and watched him in awe.

Everything he did was never below perfect. There's nothing he couldn't do. Ok, he did make a shitty cup of tea but you couldn't bring that up without receiving the silent treatment. Grump.

He came over a couple of minutes after and drifted straight for you, wrapping his arm right back around your waist. That was its home for the evening, you started to understand. You wouldn't have it any other way.

"Ready?" Jeff asked, in preparation for another two possible Grammys could win. You had a good feeling right now, so all your hope and luck was being charmed into him being successful. It didn't bother you if he came away with no awards this evening, because the performance and the outfits alone were enough to keep you happy until after the afterlife.

Instead of Harry immediately responding he looks down at you, you looking up at him instantly. He just wanted a little bit of reassurance. This was a big evening for him so he encouraged all the support he could muster up. You nodded at him, looking into his emerald eyes and feeling safe all at once.

"Ready." Harry responded after giving you a strong kiss to the top of your head, ready to absolutely take over the Grammys.

•••••

Well, this was nerve-wracking.

The room for the Grammys was outside and the tables were all socially distanced. Regardless of the unfortunate situation you had all been placed under this year, the organisers of this event had done a wonderful job. The flower arrangements were stunning and everything complimented each other so well.

The small podium with the Grammy sat upon it made this moment even more nervy. Harry was a trembling mess next to you. Jeff was even worse. But you were by far the worst.

This moment was so special for Harry. He'd worked so hard for this and all he wanted was recognition of that. Sure, there would be countless more opportunities to grab awards and give acceptance speeches but at the end of the day, today, he really did not want to be going home empty handed. He knew that he was amazing regardless of the outcome, and you'd do your job in reminding him so, but having a trophy to add to his endless collection would be quite nice.

Trevor Noah came on stage whilst the category was being announced by the anonymous woman on the screen. As it flicked through the different songs you realised Harry was up against some tough competition. Cardigan was one of your favourite Taylor Swift songs ever, so if Harry didn't win then you were rooting for her. Taylor was having such a successful year and it would be shame for it not to go to her. You were biased to your husband though - plus Watermelon Sugar had plus a billion streams.

Then a lady came up on stage and was introduced by Trevor. Not going to lie this man did remind you of a knock-off version of the Weeknd, whom, by the way, was absolutely robbed of the Grammys this year. the Weeknd had outsold everyone ever and had produced an album so technically beautiful it is a genuine crime for him not to have been nominated.

Your mind was racing through a hundred different things that you completely forgot where you were and what you were doing. You pulled yourself back to the moment.

God, was your heart racing.

Hopefully there were defibrillators on stand-by, because at the rate your heart was beating you were worried it might just give out in a minute.

"I love you." You whispered to Harry as he kept his head down. He was in his own bubble and you didn't want to disturb him, so saying the words from a distance was what you left it at. Hopefully he had heard you through your mask. You noticed he looked up last second, out of the corner of your eye, to witness the moment. His moment?

"And the Grammy goes to..." Rochelle paused whilst she undid the little leaflet with the Holy Grail tucked away inside, "Watermelon Sugar, Harry Styles."

His moment.

And the tears fell.

Watermelon Sugar started playing in the background.

The applauds deafened the room.

You stood up out of your seat as soon as she'd said Sugar, because your clever man had done it. He'd really done it. Harry Fucking Styles was a Grammy Award winner and for a masterpiece of a song too.

Harry stayed sat down, eyes wide in shock. You remained stood up, applauding the man of the minute. Your man. Jeff had to shake Harrys shoulders to wake him from his daze. He was unconditionally smiling as he took his mask off - a smile on his face that would break the hearts of millions. Tears were in his eyes, but not as many as were falling from yours.

Jeff stood up and brought Harry up with him. They shared a longing hug and you could see people taking photos from around them. Jeff gave him a pat on the back and Harry kissed his cheek in return and your tears just kept falling.

No, like they weren't stopping at all.

He pushed himself off of Jeff and twisted so quickly around to you and brought you into a bone-crushing hug. You were entirely absorbed in the man that you love. His smell was so overwhelming and his demeanour was so happy that anything felt possible. He kissed your exposed shoulder countless amounts of times, moving around your face to leave kisses on your forehead and nose.

"I'll save your lips for after." He whispered as he walked around you to go and give his acceptance speech. All this time he'd spent faffing around with you had earned some rolls of the eyes from producers backstage, but even they couldn't take him away from his moment.

He waddled up the stairs and over to his Grammy, picking it up so daintily just to put it back down again. It was as if he couldn't believe it was his and didn't think it was his property to touch. But it was. It was all his.

Everyone else had sat down, but you were too in awe to even have noticed until Jeff tugged on your elbow. Normally you would've stayed standing up, but due to covid regulations one of the rules was that you stay seated apart from the initial winning of awards. You understood that you had to respect the rules but you wished you could remain standing for your man and his moment.

You didn't arrange yourself comfortably on the seat, only wanting to listen to what your beautiful husband had to say. You could barely see anything through the running tears. You were a whole mess. Then you started crying more at how much of a role model and inspiration he already was to your unborn child. He was going to be the most amazing dad, you just knew. The stories he would have to tell your child, hopefully even children, were unmatched.

Life was a rollercoaster, Keating, damn right.

As he stepped up to the mic he left out a hefty sigh, not from exhaustion but because he was trying to keep his own tears at bay.

"Sorry i'm just watching my wife cry down there and I can't help myself." Harry started, rubbing his hand over his eyes so cutely. He was trying his best to keep his emotions in check but even a blind man could tell he was having a hard time doing so.

"He's such a flower sometimes." Jeff laughed beside you. Jeff never really got a hold on the whole toxic masculinity thing and it was proven by comments like this. Just because a man cried doesn't automatically make him a pussy or a flower, in this case. Instead, it showed what a genuine character someone was and expressed that they were human just like the rest of you.

"My flower." You whispered to yourself, just for you to hear.

"To everyone who made this record with me, thank you so much. Um... This was the first song that we wrote about my first album came out, uh, during a day off in Nashville and I want to say thanks to Tom, Tyler, Mitch," he paused to stop the shake in his voice and wiped his eyes again, "and everyone. Stop crying you!" Harry looked and laughed at you, making others laugh when they turned to face you.

Ok this was pretty embarrassing.

You shook your head no instead of saying anything, people turning back around to face Harry.

"Uh to Rob Stringer and everyone at Colombia. My manager Jeffery," Jeff fist pumped the air and it made you laugh, "who has always nudged me to be better and never pushed me thank you so much, and uh I feel very grateful to be here thank you. All these songs are fucking massive so thank you so much. My wife was actually rooting for Taylor so that's enough credit to her, um. I feel very honoured to be among all of you so thank you so much. Thank you."

He put his hand over his heart to finish, which to most people would mean absolutely nothing but to you it meant everything. Harry had told you once that it was his way of saying 'I love you' and that he was thinking about you, even when he couldn't make it vocal. You put your hand over your heart in return, feeling him beat within you.

Harry started to wander off stage before he forgot the one thing he'd been so excited to take home; his Grammy. Rochelle pointed back to it and he innocently dawdled back over to collect it. At least it gave something for people to laugh about.

People rose from their seats to applaud him again as he left the makeshift stage. Jeff nudged you to get up from the table and walk over to where Harry would be lead backstage. Jeff walked off without you, mainly because his head wasn't fixated on you for the time being, leaving you to collect all your belongings. You picked up Harrys mask and his handbag that he had brought with him. Gucci, of course. Jeff had left his glasses on the table accidentally so you picked them up too, having the last sip of your water before leaving.

Walking past so many Girl Bosses made you feel powerful and even Taylor waved at you. This did not happen to people who couldn't even click their fingers.

"Harry, my man." Some people who were close to Harry, various artists and obviously hair and makeup had all been backstage waiting for him too. Harry was getting passed between people. His hair was getting ruffled and he would have bruises tomorrow with the amount of pats on the back he was receiving. Jeff was among the crowd, along with Lambert and Glenne. It was a genuine celebration.

You hung back a bit, still carrying various miscellaneous items. You weren't a huge crowds person and so you felt safer standing back. Harry would make his way through to your eventually, plus you couldn't just pull him away when and where you pleased - even if he would have it that way.

"You're so amazing, H!" You heard Glenne fuss over him, her face full of tears after having known him for so long - and they shared the same birthday.

"Ya fucking rockstar." Lambert called out to him, capturing these moments on the Polaroid camera he took to every event. He always sent them over to you digitally once he had got them developed and they always made for really brilliant keep-sake photos. Random items of Harrys clothes and wardrobe set up were often photos that would develop first and then it would turn into Harry and then Harry with other people. Lastly there would be photos of Harry passed out somewhere from drinking too much vodka at the after-party.

"Excuse me." Someone with headphones tried to sneak past you, as you were in the way. You apologised and turned around to move out of the way. Harry had obviously thought you were walking away for some unknown reason and so quickly pushed through the swarm of people to get to you. He came up behind you and pressed the sloppiest kiss against your cheek that he could, making you squeal out in happiness.

"You're not leaving me are you?" He asked with furrowed eyebrows, relieving you of carrying all this extra junk and tossing it all to Lambert instead.

"No I was just moving out of the way, you dork." You shook your head at how worried he could get over you. You loved him all the same though.

"Give me that kiss now, hmm?" He questioned, turning you around so he could admire you properly. He smiled when he realised tears were still dribbling from your eyes that were still cloudy like lemonade.

Without warning you smashed your perfect lips onto his, stealing the air out of the room and refraining him from catching his breathe. You were each others support now. He tasted delicious against you and had never felt better. Every kiss he blessed you with was better than the last. He knew just how you liked it, just as you did for him. The love beaming off of you both was magical. No doubt Lambert had taking his fair share of photos from this interaction between you two.

You pulled away quickly, forgetting something from earlier, "Sorry did I tell you how proud I was of you?" You seriously questioned, but Harry didn't care that the answer was no as he was too fully invested on having you back against his lips to tell you. He knew you were proud of him, always, just as he was proud of you.

Gone were the chorus of people squealing and crying behind you both. For now it was just you and Harry.

•••••

Taylor Swift is so much taller in real life than in pictures.

Sitting back and watching the celebrity life take over you notice things like this. Beyoncé is tiny. Billie nails are scarily long. Meghan is hilariously funny. And Taylor is really bloody tall. She actually towers over your boyfriend, who she was talking to right now.

You had stayed at the table with Jeff, encouraging Harry to go and mingle with old friends and then make some new ones too. He hadn't seen some of these people in years so it was nice to rekindle after such a hard past year. Your body was starting to ache and your feet were killing you so you'd told Harry that you might sit out for a little while. He expressed his sadness for having to be away from you, but went off anyways.

Jeff had sat with you for a little while until he had noticed Finneas and Billie calling him over to their table so, after apologising to you, he got up and left. So scouring the room and picking on individuals to dissect was you'd resulted in doing.

It was weird to think that Harry and Taylor had been a thing once in the past. They looked good together in fact - they would make a seriously hot couple. Taylor had done really well for herself tonight and had been heavily supportive towards your husband, which you'd be forever grateful for. She'd even stood up and clapped for him before you had. If there was a bigger fan of Harry than you, you'd crown that title to Taylor. Just as you would crown yourself the biggest Taylor stan, because wow she made music.

It was so weird having celebrities walk around you as if you were meant to be sitting there amongst them. You stuck out like a sore thumb between these talented individuals. Apart from making a mean carbonara you were pretty basic. Well, actually you were currently making a tiny human inside of you so that was one thing you could gloat about.

People watching should be a sport, because, besides the fact there's no definitive objective, you would win every time. In fact, you were so deep in watching Dua Lipa strut away as if she were on a runway that you hadn't even noticed that your husband had come back to you.

"You alright, lovie?" He asked, sitting himself on the chair directly in front of you. He pushed some hair out of your face smiling when his eyes caught yours.

"Just babysitting," you told him, which you thought was quite funny because as much as you were watching over his precious Grammy, you were also sitting a baby away in your womb, "Are you okay?" You checked up on him since he'd been having a few drinks this evening. Nothing to get him drunk, but enough to make him tipsy. Tipsy Harry meant cuddly Harry and you definitely couldn't argue with that tonight. The thought of being wrapped in your expensive, Egyptian cotton, duvet, right now, with your favourite person, whilst Friends ran on in the background sounded better than an orgasm.

"I'm perfect. On top of the world." He assured you, grinning like a cheshire cat. It warmed your heart to see him so happy.

Happy Harry, happy life - or something like that.

"How's Taylor?" You asked, nodding over towards where he'd just come from, noticing that Taylor was now talking to her manager and friends.

"She's doing really well. I'm glad I talked to her, I haven't seen her in a long time. She said that you look beautiful." He spoke softly, even though there was loud music blasting around the open area. This was as crazy as the "after party" was going to get, and for that you were glad.

"Coming from her that's so generous." You awed at how kind Taylor is. The media always portrayed her in a bad light after the Taylor-Harry feud when it had actually been Harrys management that fucked everything up and screwed everyone over. Taylor and Harry had been best friends through the whole thing though. "Who's next?"

"No one, just you." He smiled, noticing your puzzled face and finding it adorable.

"How so?" You placed your hands on his knees as he shuffled his chair closer to you. He then snaked his hands to between your legs and grabbed your chair to pull you closer towards him too. The strength he had - oof!

"Just want to spend time with my favourite person." He genuinely smiled at you, teeth, dimples and everything, making your heart flutter crazy.

"Oh you are soft, H." You tutted him.

"I'm anything but soft when it comes to you." He joked, making you snort out a disgusting laugh that got you a concerned look from Lizzo to which you smashed your head into Harry's lap to hide yourself from embarrassment. Harry's hands came to the back of your head to comfort mortification out of you. He cupped your head and brought your face up to meet his.

"You prick." You giggled at him, still tomato red in the face.

"Your prick, though." He raised his eyebrows as if he'd just made a really justified point.

"Too right." You left a brief kiss on his lips, not feeling comfortable in front of all these people to give him anything else. He savoured anything he could get from you, finding any part of you irresistible.

"You ready to go soon?" Harry watched you yawn so widely that your double chins decided to make an appearance - flattering Y/N.

"Please." You answered honestly, knowing Harry would know if you were lying to him. He was too good and that's why your heart beat so much for him.

•••••

Harry was the biggest narcissist he knew, let alone you.

Tonight you allowed him to let his ego grow bigger than planet Earth, though. He deserved to bask in the glory of his achievements. He had performed like no other artist - mainly because of the dance moves in that outfit - and had won a Grammy for a song about eating pussy. Yours, if we were giving credit where credit was due.

It was crazy to think that an intimate and romantic experience between you and your, now, husband had gone and won him a Grammy. If only people knew the meaning behind Sunflower Vol. 6, boy would they have a field day with that one.

So Harry was a narcissist and had demanded you both to listen to Watermelon Sugar in the car journey home. If you weren't in an Uber you were pretty sure that Harry would have pulled over onto the side road and proved why Watermelon Sugar deserved that Grammy - to you only - but as it was you and Harry had been sent home in an Uber. Jeff had registered that Harry had drunk a few Martinis and thought it would be safer if someone else took you both home. You'd stayed clear of alcohol, and dusted off anyone confused as to why you had, the best you could've.

"Here we go Sir. Ma'am." The kind gentleman driving had stopped just outside the gates to your drive, waiting for you to leave in order to head off on his next job.

"Thank you so much." You smiled and hopped out of the backseat of the car the opposite way to Harry. You'd been sat in the middle, next to him, but you knew he always liked to have a quick chat and thank his drivers politely before leaving which is why you got out the other side.

You walked through the padlocked gate, entering the digital code too, and walked up to front door ready for bed. Well, before that you'd have to tell your husband that you would be carrying another human around for the next 9 months. Now you were nervous.

The alarm blared out loud when you walked in until you manually turned it off. Slipping off your jacket and walking into the kitchen you noticed the large bouquet of pink and blue carnations that sat on top of the kitchen counter. They smelt so lush and fresh, it was a nice change to the smell of burnt toast. You noticed the small tag on them and saw they were addressed for Harry, most likely for winning big this evening. It was always so lovely to see people thinking of Harry and his achievements.

Harry walked through the front door as you were slicing a bagel to put in the toaster. You were grabbing the Biscoff lotus spread as he walked into the kitchen too. It wasn't until he was shaking off his jacket and taking off his shoes that you remembered you were wearing heels - painful heels - and so you leant down to take them off, before collapsing onto the floor instead.

It had been an exhausting day.

Emotionally you had not been prepared for today at all and it had worn you out to the core. Physically, apart from your aching feet, you were okay, but mentally you were drained.

"The flowers are for you, H, I think." You told him as he was whistling away to himself, humming to acknowledge he'd heard you.

You sat in the middle of the kitchen floor to mess with the straps on your heels, sighing loudly when you got one of them off.

"Ah bloody hell that feels good." You laughed to yourself, Harry still off somewhere else in the kitchen hidden from view. You started at your other heel, picking at the buckle, when you noticed Harry's presence in front of you. You looked up at him to see him looking down at you with tears in his eyes, holding the little note that had been stuck inside the flowers. He was slightly scary standing there looking so emotional over something you knew nothing about.

"Y/N/N?" He asked with a tremble in his voice.

"Yeah?" You questioned back, confused as to where this could be going, having managed to rugby tackle your other heel off your swollen feet. You leant back on your arms feeling exhausted more than ever.

"Why did your mum just send me flowers thanking her for making her a grandmother, when you have no siblings?" He asked carefully. Your head shot up to him, wide eyes.

Shit. Fucking shitty shit balls.

This was not exactly how you planned to do it. You were either going to do it by putting a silly message like "our family is about to get bigger by two feet" in a card or buy him baby clothes and have him guess what for. However, your mum telling him instead of you was not something that you had foreseen possible.

"Because you're going to be a dad." You answered the only way you could think how to. You smiled warily, not knowing which way he was going to swing on this. You didn't feel in control of this situation, when you wish that you did. "Harry, I—"

"C'mere." He held out both of his arms to help you up off the floor. You shakily took his hands, thankful that you'd taken off your heels now. However, you were quite smaller than him now so he was towering slightly over you. When you'd stood up Harry didn't let go of your hands, instead he gripped on to them tightly.

"I... It was—" You tried getting out words to help pre-empt what he was going to say about this but you were struggling with nerves.

"I thought that a Grammy was what made my night the best one of my life," he started to talk instead of hearing you mumble nothing, so you watched his gaze carefully as he looked between your eyes and your lips, "until a minute ago." An eruption of butterflies fluttered within your stomach with the hope that he was excited for this.

"So you-you're happy about this?" You questioned just to make sure, but by the shit-eating grin on his face right now you were stupid to ask.

"I am quite possibly the happiest man in this universe right now." He laughed out loud and brought his lips down to connect to your forehead. You moved to rest yours on his chest. The moment was quiet and thoughtful, until Harry picked you up quickly and spun you around shouting profanities over how he was going to become a dad. You'd never seen him happier and you'd never been more in love with him. All that worrying had been for nothing and you made a mental reminder to thank your mum for her input.

"Harry stop!" You laughed as he hugged you tight. Even though you knew there was barely anything in your tummy right now you were still apprehensive to the pressures against it.

"Sorry, i'm just so in love with you right now." He put you down carefully but still kept you close. He pressed you close against him and brought your face inches away from his. "Thank you." He kept on doing this - thanking you but with no outspoken reason, as if he was thanking you for everything and anything but then again maybe he was doing just that.

"Mhm." You nodded and leant your lips closer towards him, before softly catching them against yours. The pure love between you felt endless. It was a forever kind of love. One that would never burn out.

That night Harry went to bed a happy man, and not just because he had won an award but because his life had never been better. With every day from now on he vowed to love you and your little one with everything he had, because you were worth just that.

[moosekateer13]

To Learn Her

This is an alt ending to my mini-series Undo it

Jensen x reader

Warnings: Fluff, Angst

Summary: After the discovery of a long-lost daughter Jensen and his wife Danneel divorce. It was just too much for her to handle. Now a year later his high school love Y/N and are back together. No longer the awkward immature teenagers they once were. Can they make it work this time?

Inspired by Miranda Lambert's To Learn Her

To love her is to learn her

Ackles' Backyard

To say this past year has been a bumpy road is an understatement.

Mine and my daughter's life got flipped upside down from one brief run in at the grocery store. 

Now I am here at my daughter's wedding with someone by my side that I thought would never be again.

"Okay sweetheart I'll see you later go walk Avalyn down the aisle. I'll see you after the ceremony."my fiancee said before placing a kiss on my forehead.

" Are you sure you don't want to walk her with me Jensen?" Ava asked.

“I don't think it's my place, Ava.” Jensen replied.

Ava heads to the bathroom, not wanting to discuss it further. I know she was disappointed, but he's right.

He looks over at me.

"It's not my place Tonia, you raised her. She hardly knows me. Ava surprised me last week and started calling me dad. That's a big step for us." Jensen replied. With that, he walks out of the room.

I wonder what's taking her so long. Jensen comes back bursting through the door.

"Lavender if you really are sure you want to take that big step. I'll be happy to walk with you and your mom." Jensen said with unshed tears of happiness in his eyes.

"I am sure dad," Ava said

He hugs her tightly as a silent thank you. It's a quick hug but filled with so much emotion.

I feel a tear slide down my cheek, which Jensen promptly wipes away with the handkerchief in his pocket.

Eventually, it's time to go so flank our daughter on each side to walk her down the aisle to her fiancee Jeremy.

Our backyard looks extra stunning decorated in purple and gold.

The vows are simple but beautiful. She's got a way with words. I guess she takes after me.

Our friends and family are here today. That includes her half-siblings, the Padaleckis and Collins. Absent, of course, is Danneel. It is definitely not the right place for her to be.

Ava looks stunning in that simple white a-line dress and the classic veil. The veil is an heirloom from my side of the family.  I am so proud to be her mother she accomplished so much at such a young age. Ava has her own doctor's office.

I steady my nerves as Jensen and I make our way to the stage. We have a little surprise for her first dance. Jensen and I are going to cover Miranda Lambert's to Learn Her. Him and I used to sing together all the time in high school. Never did I think we'd be together again but the universe clearly had other plans in store for us.

We've grown a lot since our time apart. It wasn't the right time for us back then but now it is and I can't wait to be his wife. I briefly run my thumb along my engagement ring. Jensen and I exchange a small smile.

My Y/E/C lock onto his emerald ones as we sing the last verse.

To love her is to lose her

Hey, that's just how it works

To love her is to learn her

Some things you just can't learn

Oh, to love her is to learn her

Some things you just can't learn

[theonewiththefanfics]

Tomato - Tomato (one-shot)

Synopsis: One is an international rock-star. The other is his loyal assistant. Both are complete morons in love. Also - she’s allergic to tomatoes, and it is important.

This started off as something completely else. hope you enjoy :D

Pairing: Harry Styles x fem!Assistant!Reader

Genre: fluff, minor angst

Warnings: two idiots pining for one another, swearing, mentions of allergies and EpiPens

Word count: 3492

Being an assistant to someone famous wasn’t all glamourous parties and wild nights out with celebrities. It was scheduling last minute flights and not sleeping for three days straight as you packed a million bags and then repacked because their stylist sent you knew pieces and the old ones no longer fit the aesthetic of the week.           It was also making sure that they were up by six AM with a hot coffee at their bedside ready to help them wake up as you lay out a detailed plan of the day down to the minute, while you yourself basically only had a two-hour nap because you had to finish off 568 handwritten notes to be sent out to each of the contacts in their phone. Or at least that’s what Y/N’s life was like being the personal assistant to none other than the modern-day prince of rock Harry Styles.            Said rockstar was actually still asleep when Y/N entered his room, ripping open the curtains and letting in the rising sun. He groaned, pulling up the bedsheets that’d ridden down his form during the night. “Not that I don’t like seeing your gorgeous face in the mornings….” he mumbled into the covers. “But I don’t like seeing your face in the mornings when they start at six bloody AM.”           Y/N snorted and rolled her eyes, rubbing them in an attempt to get rid of the sleep that still lingered in her own body. “You were the one that said you’re fine with seeing Lambert at eight for a fitting.”           “When did I say that?” Harry scoffed, only the top of his messy bedhead seen from the cocoon he’d built around himself.           “Would you like me to pull up the text messages, the calendar or the e-mails?”           Even with her back turned as she rummaged through his closet for him to put on some clothes, she could sense the middle finger he threw at her, and she smiled.           Despite everything, despite the zero sleep and stress always coursing through her veins, Y/N loved working for him. He treated her as a friend, not just some lackey he paid to, but most importantly, comparatively to the other people she’d worked for in the same line of business – he treated her as a human.           If something went over the deadline, Harry didn’t scream or yell at her and tell Y/N how incompetent she was, instead he asked what kind of help or assistance she needed to get the job done, or maybe if she just needed some time off to gather herself and look at the problem with fresh eyes.           “I hate how organised you are,” Harry groaned, finally throwing the covers off.           “If I wasn’t, you’d be in a ditch somewhere.”           She heard him scoff and two feet plop against the hardwood floor as he made his way towards her. “Is that how little faith you have in me?”           “You don’t even know what day it is!”           “Who does in these times?”           Y/N shrugged her shoulders and handed him a pair of boxers, some loose jeans, and a flowery Hawaiian shirt. “Are you telling me I’m wrong though?”           She looked over to her side, a smirk playing on her lips while he squinted his green eyes at her. “No, but it doesn’t mean I like getting called out, especially this early in the morning.”

          With a roll of her eyes and a shove at his shoulder for him to move to the bathroom, Y/N handed him the clothes, moving downstairs to start making him some light breakfast and get herself a cold glass of water.           You see, she’d been working as his assistant for close to two years, and they’d grown not only as people around one another, challenging their beliefs and world views, but as friends too. And, well, Y/N would be lying if the emotions hadn’t evolved from platonic to falling in love. Not that she’d ever admit it. He was an international sensation, and she was the girl who got him vegetarian croissants at the airport.           She dragged a hand down her face as she clicked the stove on and took out a carton of eggs from the fridge. Y/N knew how he liked his omelette to the T, mostly because when she’d spent the first night of quarantine with him a year prior right as the pandemic had started, Harry had wanted to do something nice because she couldn’t go and see her family any more, so he’d gotten up at seven to make breakfast for both of them. The only problem was, he hadn’t asked if she had any allergies, so as he added bits of tomatoes, parsley, cheese and scallions, Harry hadn’t expected Y/N’s eyes to go wide at the first bite as she dropped the fork.           “Harry…” Her tone had been cautious. “What’s in this?”           He was sweating. Was his cooking really that bad? He just wanted to do something nice and there he was screwing everything up. “ ‘S just some of my favourite things. I’m sorry I didn’t ask, I just thought you’d like it.”            “I do, but this tastes like it has tomatoes in it.”           He nodded. “Yeah. It does.”           Gently she smiled at him and pushed the plate a bit further away. “Could you grab me a coat, and if you have any – an EpiPen?”           “An Epi – oh shit!” When the realisation hit him, Harry was jumping out of his seat, running to one of the cupboards and rummaging through in a panic all the while apologies flew non-stop from his mouth.           Y/N in the meantime had gathered her purse and mask, making a call to the nearest hospital to explain the situation to which they responded they’d be waiting for her arrival.           “I’m so sorry!” Harry ran up to her, a first-aid kit in his shaking hands. “Please don’t die! I didn’t want to kill you, I promise! I just wanted to make you some breakfast cause you do so much for me, and now you’re stuck here, and – oh god,” he cried. “I’m going to be prosecuted for killing my assistant.”           She didn’t mean to, but the snort came out of her nose either way. “Harry.” She put a hand on his shoulder. “Please calm down. I’m not going to die.”           “You’re allergic!”           “Yes, I am, but I only had a small bite. The ER is just a precaution.” Y/N took his palms in hers and squeezed them. “Now take a deep breath with me…” They did so, holding it for five seconds and letting it out for eight. “And calm down a bit. I’ll go give myself the shot, and then I’ll drive to the hospital.”           “Let me,” Harry begged. “Please, let me at least drive you to the emergency room. God, I almost killed you with an omelette, it’s the least I can do. I – I could also help you with the shot, I won’t hit an artery, I promise -”           “Harry, you’re barely coherent. Not to say anything, but you’d have a bigger chance of killing me in a car crash, than from that tomato.” Y/N gave him a smile. “I’m gonna be fine.”           With that, she left him to venture into the bathroom and did the unpleasant part of stabbing herself in the thigh to alleviate her body from the allergy symptoms. She sat there for around five minutes before she felt that the swelling of her tongue and itching in her throat was starting to subside, which meant the epinephrine was working.           “Okay,” she huffed, taking her purse from the couch where Harry had been sitting, hugging the accessory. “I’ll be back in probably around two hours. Do we need anything from the store?”           He shook his head. “Just come back home, please.”           Y/N would never admit how her heart thundered in her chest when Harry said to come back ‘home’. “I will.” She promised. “Don’t you worry. You’re not getting rid of me that easy, Styles. The money’s too good.” She winked at him and then left Harry pouting on the couch, but she couldn’t get through the door, before he jumped up, yelling, “wait! Do I need to get rid of every tomato in the house?”           “No,” she laughed. “I’m good to be around them. Even touch them. ‘S just my insides that don’t agree with it when they meet.”           “Okay.” He nodded, hands on his hips. “Alright. I’ll uh – I’ll be waiting. I’ll make you something else.”           “There’s no need for that, Harry.”           His eyes widened at her words. “I swear I’m not trying to murder you!”           “Oh my god,” she muttered shaking her head. “Just – just relax. Okay. I’ll send you hourly updates.”           He bit his lip. “Make it every ten minutes.”           “Harry –,”           “Please?” The way he was giving her puppy dog eyes melted her heart.           With an eye-roll, Y/N waved at him and promised to update her boss at every possible moment and confirm that he hadn’t, in fact, been the reason for her demise. Well, he was the reason for the demise of her low standards in men, having taken them and thrown them up to the Moon, but unless her feelings were miraculously requited or if one of the Marvel characters, she was obsessed with came to life, she’d have to stick to what was available. And in her mind, that wasn’t Harry.           “What are you thinking about?” His voice startled Y/N out of the memory, and she shook her head, adding salt and pepper to the beaten eggs.           She shrugged. “Just about that time a year ago where you secretly tried to off me because you were too nice to say you didn’t wanna quarantine together.”           The groan he let out was of royal embarrassment, and it put a wide smile on her face, as she took one of the forsaken fruits and started to chop the red ball into small pieces.           “You’ll never let me live it down, are you?”           Y/N raised her eyebrow at him. “Your failed murder attempt?” She snorted. “Of course not! It’s like you don’t watch the crime shows and murder documentaries when I have them on. You really haven’t learned anything.”           Harry stuck his tongue out at her and moved to her side, dropping some chives into the mix as well. “Well given how it wasn’t a murder attempt, I wouldn’t consider it a fail.”           Her hip bumped his, and only then did Y/N really give him a once-over. As always, he looked amazing in whatever was on his body, but what made him even cuter in her eyes was the sleepiness still lingering in him.           Harry’s movements were a little bit sluggish, eyes half-closed and small sighs passing his lips as he sipped onto the coffee she’d come to his place with. The shirt sat loosely on his body, the first two buttons left open while he’d tucked the bottom of it into the jeans, having found a Gucci belt and cinched it around his waist, giving it a more eighties look rather than the sixties vibe he usually had with his suits.           The brown hair was still messy and dishevelled, and Y/N could barely, just barely restrain herself from running her fingers through it, but what she didn’t know Harry was struggling just as much.           All he wanted to do was pull out the bottom lip Y/N had gotten in between her teeth and kiss her senseless, to have her fingers dig into his arms and leave crescent shaped imprints on his skin.           “So, uh…” He had to start a conversation otherwise his mouth would find itself on Y/N’s mouth in a second. “What’s Lambert got in his schedule? How many outfits is he thinking?”           “Two or three, I think,” she said, pouring the mixture on the pan and letting the slow sizzle erupt around them. “He’s got this one suit which I think you’ll really like – all leather, but it needs to be altered.”           Harry hummed, and for a second both of them relished in the domestic feel of it all. They’d had many moments like it before, especially during the spring and summer seasons of 2020, and Y/N couldn’t help but relish in her memories at them.           “Harry?” It was like her voice snapped him out from a trance. “Could you pass me a plate please?’           “Uh, yeah,” he stammered for a moment and then nodded, wordlessly going to a cupboard and taking out a white marbled plate. That single piece of kitchenware probably cost more than her life insurance, but it was definitely aesthetic if nothing else.           Silently Y/N plopped the omelette onto the plate, placing it on the kitchen counter and went to get him a fork, however when she turned around, he was facing her, chewing quite agressively on the inside of his cheek.           “You okay?” she asked, coming closer. “I can call Lambert, reschedule it for later. He wouldn’t be too happy about having to wake up and then – “           But Harry shook his head. “It’s not that.”           “Then what?”           He didn’t say anything. It was like he was trying to decipher the best course of action, and when he ultimately did, Y/N was pressed up against the counter, Harry’s forehead against hers with two ring-clad hands cupping her cheeks.           “Harry,” she breathed, out her lips brushing his making the air in her lungs hitch. “What are you doing?”           “Something I’ve been dying to do for a year now. If you let me that is.”           “I -,” The words were muddled up in her head. Of course, Y/N wanted him to kiss her, she wanted him to ravish every part of her body. The fantasies and dreams she’d had at night would be incriminating proof if her feelings were on trial, but despite it all, her brain was usually in charge and would overrule any decision made by her heart. “Harry, we can’t.” She whispered, voice breaking.           “I -,” Horror morphed onto his features as he took a step back. “Did I misread the signals? Did I do something you don’t wan –“           “No.” She grabbed onto his cheeks, trying to calm him down, his body practically melting into hers. “I do.” She didn’t need to explain what she meant. He understood. “So much it hurts me sometimes… but Harry, you’re my boss. My employer. It… it wouldn’t be right.”           “Why? How can it not be right, when it feels like the rightest thing in the world?”           “Because, Harry,” she huffed. “You’re my boss. And what’s worse – I love working for you!”           That made both of them laugh, the tone of her voice as if she was more annoyed than anything else. “ ‘Nd why’s that bad?” He nudged her nose with his. “I’d hope my employees like working with me. What kind of a person would I be if I thrived on them being miserable?”           “Because if I didn’t, quitting would be easy.” She raised her eyebrow at him. “And if I quit there’d be nothing stopping us from dating.”           Harry bit his lip, finger trailing along her cheekbone. “There’s nothing stopping us now either. There is no clause in your contract that says you can’t date people who you work for or with. Sarah’s with Mitch, and they’re the happiest they’ve ever been. They’re even having a baby…”           Y/N gave him a sympathetic smile. “I know. But that’s different. They’re on equal levels. You and I, however… I don’t want people to think I got my job because I slept with you, or some shit. It’s bad enough some already do so.”           His brows furrowed, and Y/N saw how his jaw clenched. “Who?”           “Strangers.” She shrugged. “I know you don’t look at comments like that online, but I see them. My DMs are filled with that. Gossip magazines. The point is – there are already unsubstantiated rumours about us. This would give them the confirmation they’d need.”           “How can it confirm something that’s not true?”           “There are still people who believe vaccines cause autism. Even when their ‘proof’ has been discredited and shown to be just complete bullshit, most don’t like to admit they’re wrong, so they’ll look for whatever tells them they’re right.”           Harry huffed throwing his head back to look at the ceiling. “So, where does that leave us? In love, but without being able to do anything about it? Because I can’t.” He shook his head. “I won’t be able to just pass you by without kissing you, or not pull you into the bed when you wake me up, or press you against the wall and not have my head between these two gorgeous legs.”           Y/N groaned slapping his chest and dropping her forehead against his peck. “That is so unfair. Why do you have to tease me like that!”           “Oh, sweetheart.” The rumble was deep and shot a wave of heat straight to her core. “This is no teasing.” The smirk on his face when she looked up at him was shit-eating. “Trust me, if I was teasing, you’d be begging for me.”           She’d imagined him between her thighs more times than it was appropriate considering he was her boss, but hot damn, did it feel amazing when his lips crashed onto hers, and she let him. In her dreams, his lips hadn’t been just pressed to her mouth but other places which were more south, but it was still one of the best feelings in the world.           The kiss left them both breathless, and grinning and satisfied, yet begging for more, teeth nipping at the soft flesh.           “I’ll put out an official statement, if you want,” Harry muttered against her mouth, unable to stop pecking her lips now that’d he’d gotten a taste. “But please, please, please… for both our sanities go out on a date with me.”           It seemed like Y/N was the one contemplating the best plan of action now when her brows furrowed and she looked up at him, pressing and unpressing her lips, as the swelling from the kiss grew. “Did you by any chance have a piece of that omelette already?” She had a suspicion it wasn’t just from the kiss.           His eyes widened, and then his head dropped to her shoulder. “Not again!”           Y/N rolled her eyes lifting his face by the chin so he would look at her. “How about EpiPen first?”           “Fair enough,” Harry grumbled unlatching himself from her and going for his keys and wallet, already preparing for the short drive they’d have to take. “But then a date?”           She raised her eyebrow, taking out the box Harry now kept under the sink with at least three EpiPen’s for emergencies. “In a hospital?”           “We could be going dumpster diving for all I care, and I’d count it as a date.”           Y/N rolled her eyes. “You’ll have to do so much better than that; you’ve almost put me in anaphylactic shock twice. Now come on.” She motioned with her head towards the bathroom. “Stab me and take me to the ER.”           “Fucking tomatoes,” Harry grumbled, taking her by the hand and not letting it go even for the short walk.           “Tomato-tomato, you’re the one that kissed me.”           “That I don’t regret.”           Y/N smiled, turning towards him, and taking him by the nape of his neck pulled Harry down for one more kiss, groaning at the feeling of his tongue dancing against hers.           “Y/N!” He pulled back with a gasp, shock on his face.           She just shrugged her shoulders. “We’re already going to see the doctors anyway.”           Harry pushed her shoulder and made her sit down onto the toilet. “Take your pants off before my kisses kill you.”           “Yes, daddy.” Y/N wiggled her eyebrows as Harry moaned, squeezing her calf.            His eyes were dark as he looked up at her. “Next time this happens, you’ll be begging me.”           Her wicked smile was so full of happiness he couldn’t help the one that grew on his face. “I’ll be keeping you to it. Now, dear sir.” She handed him the EpiPen. “Hit me with your best shot.”           And although it’d been now two times in their lives where Harry trying to do something good and make the other feel just as good had done pretty much the opposite, when they got to the emergency room, their smiles could be felt even under their masks           Harry watched with blushing cheeks as Y/N explained the situation to the nurse, especially when one of them threw him an unsavoury glance, eyebrow raised high as if saying ‘again? One time wasn’t enough?’.           “No more tomatoes.” He promised. “And also - it wasn’t on purpose!”           Y/N squeezed his palm, chuckling. She may not be able to give a shot at eating a tomato, but she sure as hell was going to give Harry one. After all, she had almost died for the man. Twice.

Tags (crossed out wouldn’t take):

Harry Styles tags: @breezykpop​ @girlboss99​ @harrystylesdoesntknowiexist​ @alliyjane​ @sirtommyholland​ @raylovessarcasm @just-here-to-escape-from-reality @harryhub​

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

A/N: I’m at work and I wanted to write a bit for my book, but hahahahahahaha I can’t stop procrastinating. Also, this was something comepletely else centered around Christmas, then New Year and the Valentines, but I just couldn’t and it morphed into this. Maybe this Holiday season when it rolls around I’ll post it :D

P.S. if anyone’s had a septoplasty (repositioning of the septum) - how was it? how painful is it? kinda starting my journey towards it cause apparently I can’t breathe out of my left nostril, but I’m kinda scared ngl. I’ve read some horror stories about having holes and pieces of the cartilage fall out afterwards :/// 

P.S.S. what did ya think? my tags are always open, just drop a message if you wanna be added :)

P.S.S.S please don’t plagiarise or repost my work on other platforms (wattpad, AO3 etc)

[wolf-and-bard]

The Geraskier divorce attorney AU of my dreams (hear me out):

-Geralt doesn't have regulars. Of course, he doesn't have regulars, he's a divorce attorney, a good one at that; sure sometimes there are clients that hire him twice because of mistakes or short-lived marriages, or he will have the odd person whose ex-partner he once helped, but in his ten-year-career, he's never once had a person come to him more than twice

-He has never married. The few long-term relationships he had didn't amount to anything in that regard and perhaps his job has spoiled the whole affair for him; there's never been a need either, he has his daughter Ciri, has his horse Roach which he rides on weekends, he couldn't be more content (or so he thinks)

(-Jaskier knows that many people would and do call him a whore, an adulterer, but he isn't. He is a romantic, a fall-in-lover, a dreamer, a free spirit. Which is why he gave himself the name 'Jaskier' (much more befitting of his character than Julian, what a common name) and why he tends to end up at the altar... more often than is strictly normative)

-The first time Jaskier enters Geralt's office, he acts as though it's the beginning of a Broadway show. He walks in, stands in the middle of the room and opens his arms wide. "Good day," he twitters and flashes Geralt the brightest grin. Geralt raises his eyebrows, but he isn't about to turn away a guy who looks affluent enough he can charge him a little extra. "Hello?" - "Julian Alfred Pankratz, call me Jaskier." Jaskier settles into the chair opposite Geralt's desk and puts his leather-clad feet up on them. Geralt pushes them off and asks: "Mr. Pankratz, what can I do for you?" - "Ah yes. My lover and muse, the Countess de Stael, has left me for another. The problem is that we got married just last month and I'm afraid she is going to bleed me dry if I don't have a proper attorney. You've been recommended to me by a friend. What do you say? Help out a fool?" What? Countess? Well. "Fine," Geralt says. "Let's talk fees."

-Jaskier is a lot and when the divorce is through and all aspects of their working relationship are settled, Geralt calls his babysitter - Yen's always happy to jump in on short notice - and invites his colleagues Lambert and Eskel to get drunk. Jaskier was annoying and exhausting, constantly babbling and flirting with Geralt and, god, he never wants to see him again.

-Of course, Geralt sees him again. By the time he does - half a year after the first time - Geralt has almost forgotten about Jaskier and his stupid Countess and how utterly drained that job left him. Jaskier sounds cheerful on the phone, not at all the common cadence for Geralt's clients, and comes into the office with two Macchiatos and a box of donuts; disgruntled, but unable to say no to sugar, Geralt allows for them to have the coffee over their conversation about Jaskier's upcoming divorce and it makes it more bearable. "So," Geralt says. "Give me a rough outline of the situation." Just to be prepared. Jaskier grins, wipes a sprinkle off his lips and takes a sip of coffee. "This is going to sound ridiculous, but hear me out. So about two months after you helped me last time, the Countess de Stael gave me a call..." Geralt wants to smack the man when he is done his well-embellished tale. Jaskier is obviously being used. But he's not here to judge, he's here to do his job and Jaskier pays well.

-The third is a woman called Molly. Geralt never gets to meet her, Jaskier never talks about her, it is as though she doesn't exist as more than a job to get done, a contract to fulfill. Aside from the topic of his soon to be ex-wife, Jaskier is more talkative than usual. He asks questions about Geralt's personal life, talks about his job - of course he's a broadway performer, 'star' doesn't quite apply - lingers. Geralt finds he... doesn't mind this time. It's nice to socialize for a bit, even if it is within the general bounds of his job. Jaskier makes him laugh somehow.

-"You should give me a discount," Jaskier jokes when he's there to leave a paycheck for Geralt for the fourth time (that Countess again, Geralt doesn't understand how they got married three times in a span of two years (in addition to that Molly woman)). "I don't give out discounts," Geralt replies. - "Why not? I'm a loyal customer, you should have a system for this." - "Mr. Pankratz, do you realize that you are the only person I know who goes through this many marriages in such a short amount of time?" - "Always knew I was special," Jaskier laughs and leaves with a small wave.

-"Okay, Geralt, what the hell?" Lambert asks, strutting in after Jaskier's gone with a bad temper written across his face. "Who is this man? And why does he keep coming back? You know I can hear his voice from my office. So if, like, you're having some sort of strange workplace affair, cut it the fuck out." -  "He's just an idiot who keeps getting married," Geralt says and waves Lambert away. He doesn't add that he kind of starts to miss the idiot.

-Priscilla is very nearly a different story, something Geralt only finds out after the fact. Jaskier breaks down before their court appointment, sobbing into Geralt's shoulder that he can't do it, he can't let her go, why doesn't she want him; by that point Geralt has known Jaskier for almost four years and the thought of him staying in a marriage for longer than half of one makes him queasy, gives him little bursts of pain against his breastbone; in truth, he's glad Priscilla's leaving Jaskier, antsy that it took almost a year for them to split up; she approaches him after the divorce is through, while Jaskier's in the courthouse bathroom crying his eyes out. "Tell him I'm sorry," Priscilla says and Geralt scowls at her. "Tell him I wouldn't have left him if I didn't have to. Tell him to wait for me." She leaves and Geralt doesn't even know why he should be the one to relay that message to Jaskier and so he doesn't. Jaskier never mentions her again.

-The sixth time is the Countess de Stael again and Geralt already prepared his case from the e-mail Jaskier sent ahead. The last three times all went in favour of the noblewoman who was able to protect her fortune, but Geralt thinks he can make a case for emotional manipulation and get Jaskier at least a sizable indemnity. "Mr. Pankratz," Geralt says when Jaskier comes for their appointment.  "Are you ever going to call me Jaskier?" Jaskier replies with a sigh and drops into the chair. His hair is tousled, there are deep half-moons under his eyes which look like he spent the whole night crying. Geralt's heart feels bruised, but he can't get involved dammit. "That would be inappropriate," he grunts. They get to work and Jaskier walks out with a broken-heart and a swollen bank account.

-"When will you give up on that woman?" Geralt asks when Jaskier saunters into his office one Friday, not three months after the last divorce. It's late afternoon and Geralt's ready for a weekend of watching Disney movies with Ciri, but Jaskier's always a sight for sore eyes these days. Not for the first time does Geralt consider asking him out for coffee, but the fact that he's only ever seeing Geralt because he's in need of a(nother) divorce somehow poses a barrier. "Now that is not very professional of you. To answer your question: right now. That's why I'm here." And for the first time with these two, it's Jaskier that wants the divorce, Jaskier that takes the initiative. He's only ever been the one to get dumped. Geralt's up all night thinking about that.

-For an entire year, Jaskier does not return and that annoys Geralt. He finds himself fretting, distracted, hoping Jaskier will turn up with another marriage to be dealt with, but he doesn't. The thought that Jaskier might have found someone he wants to stay with makes him physically ill. His code of conduct forbids him from using Jaskier's contact info though. Maybe this is for the best and anyway, Geralt is down to earth while Jaskier is... well, Jaskier. An emotional roller-coaster. He has his daughter and his horse and all is well. Only it isn't because Geralt managed to fall in love with Jaskier. (When Lambert and Eskel find out they laugh at him for two hours straight)

-Jaskier does turn up eventually, but not to get divorced again. He waits outside the building where Geralt works with two cups of coffee in hand and a tired smile. Geralt lets himself be led to a nearby bench, lets Jaskier speak. "I considered proposing to random strangers just to have another botched marriage for you to get me out of," Jaskier says. "But that would have been rather inconsiderate and there are easier ways to see you." - "I thought you might have found one that sticks," Geralt replies, tracing the rim of his coffee cup with a finger. "I might have."  Jaskier winks at Geralt and Geralt decides to throw caution to the wind. He leans over and kisses Jaskier's lips, then mutters, "I don't ever want to see you in my office again." - "And here I thought that your desk would make such a great hmph..." Geralt shuts him up with another kiss. It feels right.  

[teacup-crow]

Maybe, Maybe, Maybe

Fun bit of survivors’ guilt for @badthingshappenbingo, based pretty heavily off Don’t Poke the Bear and Variations on a Theme. Post-finale.

They take it in turns to keep watch for when he wakes up: Doug, Reneé, Isabel, first names still such a novelty. Just his luck, he opens his eyes to the impassive face of Captain Lovelace.

“Hi, dickbag. Sore head?”

“Unnnnhh…” he whines as if he’s lying under a ton of rocks rather than a cosy quilt on Renee’s living room floor. His face is a patchwork of bruising. “Aspirin?”

She takes pity, and passes him two and a glass of water. The sitting up takes longer than he thought it would.

“You look terrible. Lucky for you, Renee makes a mean chilli con carne. Never would have guessed she could cook.”

“No thanks, I should, should be going-”

“You need food in your system, that’s non-negotiable. First thing’s first, though, you’re having a shower, and you either go willingly or get dragged bodily, because you goddamn stink. Do I make myself clear?”

“Yes, sir,” he mumbles automatically, and he remembers the Colonel - Warren? Was it on a day he could call him Warren? - once saying something similar and his head pounds. ((“mr jacobi, of all the irresponsible, stupid shit i have seen from you this really takes the-“))

“Bathroom’s on the second floor, just past the master bedroom. Dominick put a pile of clean clothes in there before he left for work. And it’s Isabel, okay? Not sir. Not Captain. Never again.”

***

“Who did this to you?”

He grips his mug of sweet tea like it’s thousand dollar whiskey. He’s still ashen. “I did this to me.”

“You beat the shit out of yourself? Okay, yeah. Don’t buy that one.” Isabel repeats the question. “Who did this to you?”

“Just some guys I pissed off. I don’t know how many. I don’t know who. Happy now?”

The room goes silent. Isabel continues:

“And did you go provoking them deliberately?”

Not for the first time, Renee wonders whether they should have included Doug in this little intervention. He’s been through so much just like the rest of them, but he doesn’t know it, and he’s clearly freaking out at the situation.

“Why would he want something like that to happen? He looks terrible!”

“I don’t know, Doug,” Isabel says levelly. “Care to answer, Jacobi?”

He’s not on a first name basis, apparently.

“Not… I didn’t... no. No, no, no. I was too drunk and… picking fights, but suddenly there were too many of them, okay? But I got out. And if I want to drink then that’s my own problem, so thank you for the hospitality but-“

Renee cuts in there. “When you drink yourself into a stupor, get attacked by a gang in a back alley, and stumble into my doorway at 0300 hours after six months of radio silence, it becomes our problem.” Her look of pity makes his stomach churn even more than the chilli did. He breathes in, hold, out; in, hold, out; in-((alana’s breathing technique and why why why is she everywhere in everything why does he have to see her out of the corner of his eye when it’s been so long he can’t properly remember her face-))

“Fine. What do you want from me?”

“You are a good man and you saved every single one of our lives and we need to understand why you’re so intent on throwing yours away.”

Jacobi starts laughing then, guttural laughs that worsen the ache in his head and bones but he can’t seem to stop them. “...me? I’m a good man? Oh my God, Lieutenant, that’s hilarious. Give us another.”

“You need to take this seriously! This is a form of self harm! You could have died!” Isabel is pacing up and down. She and Renee do good cop, bad cop like it’s a professional sport.

“Boo fucking hoo. And the world would forever be worse off for my passing.”

Isabel stops, and turns back towards him with some heat in her gaze. “I have lost too many crew members who deserved to die far less than you do. Okay? Is that what you want to hear? Do you need me to reconfirm that you are a an asshole? Do you need to hear about how Fisher, and Hui, and Fourier, and Lambert were all far better people than you will ever, ever be? Or will you accept that you are good in there? That deep down you’re on the right-“

“We burned their letters.” He’s staring at the duvet he’s wrapped in, running his finger over the flowers on the pattern. “Okay? Still think I’m a good person?”

“...wait. What?” She laughs a little, in shock perhaps. “But you told me…”

“I told you what I needed to tell you to make you trust me. We burned your crew’s letters. Lambert’s… I remember those especially. His hands were shaking really hard when he wrote them, weren’t they.”

It’s not a question.

Isabel stops pacing, and Jacobi grins again but it doesn’t reach his bruised eyes when he looks up at her. “More than mine, even. You could tell he was sick. They didn’t make any sense. We laughed at them. The irony of a Communications Officer who can’t communicate. Are you listening to me? We read their letters and we burned them and we laughed about it-“

Renee loses her softness. “Jacobi, that is enough!”

Isabel has a hand on her chest as if something has hit her there. She counts to ten in her head, ((fisher’s technique to try and stop her fighting with sam, never worked but still stuck in her head, or this copy of her head, or whoever she is now-)) and leaves the room.

They hear her slamming drawers in the kitchen.

Doug glances at Jacobi and shakes his head, before hurrying after her.

“How could you,” Reneé says. “How could you.”

“I don’t know. Will you let me go and ruin my own life now?”

“Never,” she replies. “Because, God help me, you’re still a member of my crew.”

At that, his eyes prick with tears he can’t explain. He rolls over on the air bed, and closes them.

***

“Lovelace?” Jacobi finally makes himself walk into the kitchen, grimacing like each step is on hot sand. The words are monotone. “I’m so sorry. What I did and said is... inexcusable.”

“Nope. That’s too large a word for your vocabulary. Come back to me with an apology Renée didn’t script,” Isabel snaps, going back to scribbling in a sketchbook.

“Look, I’m not much good at this-“

“You’re telling me.”

“I’m… really used to people yelling at me and hitting me until they feel better. Or you can shoot me if you like!”

“Jesus. Well, I am not about to do that to ease your guilt. You look like you’d snap if one more person poked you. So apologise properly.”

“I’m sorry…”

“For?” Isabel prompts over the top of her book.

“I’m sorry for burning your crew’s letters.”

“You did what you were ordered to do. It is what it is. I’m not condoning it.”

There’s a moment of silence, and Jacobi realises she’s waiting for him to continue. “And… I’m sorry for bringing it up. That was… needlessly cruel. It sucked.”

“It really did,” she replies, putting the book down. “Tell you what: that sounded somewhat genuine, and Goddard brought out the shit in all of us. You look so pathetic, I’m going to forgive you. Not because you deserve it, but because I don’t bear grudges. Not anymore.”

She holds out a hand, and he shakes it. “Thank you.”

“Wow. That actually hurt for you to say.”

Jacobi nods. He sits down across from her at Renée’s huge darkwood table, and thinks about how she and Dominick must have bought this when they moved in together with plans to have people over for dinner every other night. Maybe even plans to have kids.

He wonders if Dominick ate at it alone while his wife was gone.

“So, you gone on that holiday yet?”

“No, actually. I’ve legally been dead for about seven years, so getting a passport is proving pretty tricky.”

“I can imagine.”

“Where have you been, anyway? We tried to get into contact with you. We drove down to your old apartment - got your address from the Goddard database - but it was cleaned out.”

Jacobi looks sheepish. “Yeah, well, I’d mostly been staying at Alana’s for the last few years or overnight at… yeah… so I’d not been a very good tenant and turns out they took ‘lost in space’ as the perfect opportunity to kick me out. So I’ve been sofa to sofa, on the streets a bit-”

“For heaven’s sake, Jacobi. We would have helped you, you stupid asshole! All you had to do was ask and you could have stayed here! Renee and Dominick would probably even let you have a cheese collection or whatever the fuck it was.”

“Guess the amount of drinks it takes for me to lose my pride is somewhere over eighteen?”

“How do you have a functioning liver?”

They sit in an almost comfortable silence for a few minutes, Isabel reopening her sketchbook.

“I never knew you drew.”

“You never knew me outside of a life-threatening situation.” Isabel sighs, twists the pencil between her fingers. “I don’t think I did. Before. The old ‘me’, I mean. But I was bored and I can’t get a job because of the ‘being dead’ issue, so I thought I should take up a hobby or something. Might be therapeutic. I’m not very good at it…”

“Can I see?”

“I, uh,” Isabel suddenly looks uncertain. “I drew her. Maxwell. I drew everyone, actually. Are you sure you want to look?”

“Yes.”

He leafs through the pages, at first simple doodles before branching into full portraits. Eiffel, upside down and smoking a cigarette. Hilbert, looking troubled at a shadow behind him he can’t quite see. Two ghostlike figures in lab coats staring out at the star, the man with a prophetic terror etched on his face - must be Isabel’s old crewmates. Mr Cutter smiles up at him with far too many sharp teeth in sharper lines where the pencil was pressed far too hard and he turns the page quickly. There’s Kepler, mid-whiskey speech and it almost stops his heart. He pauses. Maxwell.

In the picture, her eyes are shining as she stares at Hera’s console, fingers nothing more than a blur - the three-day stint she spent trying to get the AI online. Aside from the orange and blue of Wolf 359, elsewhere in the book Isabel has barely used colour, but here the room is bathed in a serene green light from the screens. Behind Maxwell, Jacobi sees himself, little more than a stocky, sketchy outline, waiting for her to finish.

He looks so proud of her.

He looks so… content.

After staring for a long moment, Jacobi closes the book and hands it back. “Thank you.”

“You can keep the pictures of them, if you like,” Isabel offers, but he doesn’t know whether he would like, so he says:

“Tell me about your crew.”

“What?”

“Your old crew. Tell me about them. Was Lambert the one staring at...?”

“No. No. No, that was Kuan Hui, our senior astrophysicist. He was whipsmart and funny and fearless, until the time Goddard Futuristics played around in his brain, stretched out his perception of time. He was completely alone in the dark for two weeks. His smile never really reached his eyes after that.”

Jacobi sips tea awkwardly, even though it’s cold.

“Something like that, it stays with you. At least he had Fourier, though.”

“That’s the woman behind him?”

“Junior physicist. Victoire Fourier had eyes like stars. Cleverest person I’ve ever met. She played six instruments, spoke four languages and she had the most gentle soul. She used to read to Hui when he got sick with Decima. Coughed up every organ in his body. I thought it would break her, but she was made of stern stuff. She vanished off the space station in the final days and I still don’t know what exactly happened to her-”

“I… do. If you want to know, I mean.”

Isabel shakes her head. Then pauses. Then shakes her head again. “I get the feeling whoever is to blame is long gone.”

Jacobi shrugs. “Who else?”

“Well, there was Mace Fisher. Fisher… Fisher died because of me, not Goddard Futuristics. Asteroid shower tore him from my hands. He had a boyfriend waiting at home. He was sensitive, sensible, grounding. A real older brother type. I- I didn’t deal particularly well with his death. Well, you know that much.”

((Pill popper!)) Jacobi gulps more cold tea.

“And Lambert?”

“Sam Lambert. Officer Samuel Lambert had a stick up his ass. He was whiny, and authoritarian, and he treasured his copy of Pryce and Carter more than Reneé and Kepler combined did. He drove me nearly insane, and I drove him likewise. The best second in command you could ask for. A damn good man. Sam got sick after Hui, so we knew what was coming. What it meant. He was brave, though. At first.”

((“C-Captain, please shoot me, please, it hurts, it hurts, Captain, please, I just want it to-”)

She falters.

“Lovelace?”

“Yup?”

“You know, it’s not even really about the Hephaestus. I keep… it’s insane, but I keep thinking about… I was an explosives guy for the Air Force. Before Goddard. A trigger failed and two men died. Andrews and Sullivan. I haven’t thought about them in years and suddenly-“

“They’re everywhere?”

There’s a sudden understanding between them.

“They’re everywhere. Them and Maxwell and Kepler. They’re in mirrors, in the back of my brain, around corners.”

“Flashes of them.”

“And if you just reach out far enough, maybe-“

“Maybe-“

“Maybe.”

((let’s go be monsters)), Jacobi’s brain echoes. He grits his teeth.

“Did it stop for you? When does it stop?” He finds himself asking. Isabel doesn’t answer.

[jaskiersvalley]

Immortals

A @sugar-and-spice-witcher-bingo fill. Special shout out to @chubbykatsudon for bouncing ideas around.

Prompt: Meet Ugly Title (optional): Immortals Relationships (romantic/platonic/etc):  Geralt/Jaskier Rating:  M (for (not permanent) murder) Content Warnings: Murder attempts of immortal friends for the sake of entertainment. Summary: Sometimes living forever is just boring. There’s nothing to do except literally kill time.

Being an immortal was boring. The middle ages had been especially dull and Vesemir had encouraged them to play knights in shining armour. It had been fun at the time but, on reflection, it was probably just Vesemir trying to get his idiots out of his hair for a bit. Then humanity seemed to decide it had had enough of stagnating and began to invent things. Fun things. Like the toaster. Lambert picked up on of the first models and took it home with glee, presenting it to Eskel.

“New bath water heater,” he said.

All too trusting and happy, Eskel took it, deciding that taking a bath was exactly what he needed to do to relax. From the armchair Vesemir watched him go with a soft sigh and turned back to his knitting. Not half an hour later the lights in the house started flickering and there was a noise from the bathroom while Lambert cackled. As the fuses blew in the house, Vesemir gave Lambert a flat, unamused stare and continued to knit in the dark. Thankfully, Geralt was as dutiful as ever and turned the lights back on while Eskel emerged from the bathroom looking a little frazzled.

“Spicy water,” he announced and shook his head, spraying water from his hair in all directions. While Lambert cackled, Vesemir tutted.

It went on like that, new inventions and new ways to kill each other. Or rather, not kill each other because they just never died. Not even a stilling of the heart and no breathing, only to dramatically come back to life. That would have been fun at least. Alas, they just endured whatever time threw at them with as much or as little grace as they had.

It was rare to find someone like them but rumour had it that there was another. And he was having a grand old time with the modern phenomenon of global fame. Jaskier was irritating(ly pretty) if anyone asked Geralt. But nobody really wanted or needed his opinion so he stayed quiet. Another immortal friend was always a nice idea so they went to his concerts, listened to his music and reached out to get to know him. Their first meeting was looming, they’d been exchanging messages, chatting but not actually met in the flesh. Still, they all wanted to make a good impression so there was a lot of preparation going on to look their best.

“What’s that?” Geralt asked as Lambert and Eskel were leaning over a new contraption.

“It’s a new tanning device,” Eskel declared, pushing the microwave towards him. “You’re so pale, we figured you’d want to look a little more healthy when meeting Jaskier.”

Lambert’s smile held nothing but cheerful malice. “I accidentally broke it a bit. What you have to do is plug it in, put your head in the machine and push with a fork on the latch. Set the timer to how long you want to be in there toasting for.”

Suspicious but not knowing any better, Geralt did as told. Behind him the other two were snickering, probably because it was such a stupid machine. All it did was hum and whirr noisily while forcing Geralt into a strange position, bent over the kitchen counter with his head in the opening. Once the machine dinged, he pulled out and looked at the other two.

“Well?” There was no change and Geralt grumbled. “Useless machine. At least it hums more in tune that Jaskier.”

With that, he wandered off, feeling quite warm but otherwise no different to usual.

“At least he looked like an idiot,” Eskel sighed. “That will have to be consolation enough.”

For a first meeting, they had grand plans. It had been a while since they pranked Vesemir so the idea was slowly blossoming. To make sure Jaskier was the kind of person they’d want to maintain a friendship with (no matter how pretty he was), they decided to rope him into it too. It was a very simple plan involving some nuts, a revolving door and an umbrella. As long as Jaskier brought the umbrella and played along, they were going to be golden.

The big meeting was approaching. Vesemir had asked his idiots to be on best behaviour and extracted false promises from them. They were to meet in a bar with private booths, able to get to know each other in a neutral but not public setting. After all, wherever Jaskier went, he got mobbed by fans.

As they walked into the booth, Lambert grinned at the sight of the umbrella. This was going to be perfect. Filing in, they sat on the semi-circle of the bench. Geralt got ushered in next to Jaskier followed quickly by Lambert and Eskel. It left Vesemir on Jaskier’s other side which was just fine. Perfect even for the greatest prank. There was a bowl of peanuts on the table and, as introductions were being made (with Geralt being impressively lacking on the verboseness, too struck down by how much better Jaskier looked in real life), Vesemir munched away on a couple.

All chatter came to a sudden stop and Eskel swung his legs off Lambert’s lap when Vesemir choked on a peanut. That wasn’t part of the plan. The coughing wouldn’t stop and then the hand waving started so Jaskier thumped him on the back to no avail. Rather dramatically, Vesemir tried to get up and collapsed.

Lambert brayed with laughter. “How fucking undignified.”

They waited for Vesemir to pick himself up. Or even move. The longer he was on the floor unmoving, the more awkward the silence got.

“Get up old man,” Lambert huffed.

Eskel tried to be a bit more gentle. “Vesemir?”

There was no response. Eskel made a move to get up but Jaskier beat him to it, crouching by Vesemir. A hand on his pulse then a listen to his chest. Slowly, Jaskier looked up at the three.

“He’s dead.”

“He can’t be,” Geralt replied hoarsely. “We don’t die.”

“No pulse. No breathing. No response.” Jaskier gave Vesemir an experimental poke in the cheek. “Seems pretty dead to me.”

Eskel’s quiet “oh shit” was the start of the panicked rushing to Vesemir’s side and trying to rouse him. There were three very panicked adopted sons around him while Jaskier took a step back and watched.

“This can’t be!” Lambert’s protests were weak. “He can’t be dead.”

His eyes were tearing up a little as Eskel pulled Vesemir up and cradled the limp body against his chest. “Please wake up?”

Jaskier couldn’t help but think they were like children. However, Geralt sat back and he peered at Vesemir’s face.

“Um. Do the dead smile?”

That was all it took and Vesemir burst out into a roaring laugh doubled over. Each time he looked up, he started laughing again and Jaskier snickered along too.

“What?” Geralt looked dumbfounded.

It was Eskel who pursed his lips and looked between Jaskier and Vesemir. “I think we’ve been had. And we have a traitor in our midst.”

In two short steps Geralt had Jaskier pinned against the wall. “You two faced scoundrel. I bite my thumb at you!”

Delighted, Jaskier just grinned as Geralt carried on. “Damn you. Go out with me.”

Lambert wolf-whistled as Jaskier leaned in to kiss Geralt into silence.

“Welcome to the family.”

[ainti-pretty]

@persephonesveil uve enabled me (-:

heres some fun modern au young witcher hcs w geralt, eskel, and lambert but make it in ✨2021✨

(this is not polish deli au btw)

so.

-geralt and eskel are around 17 and lamberts around 16. theyve living with vesemir for around 4 years so they arent as afraid hes going to kick them out or abandon them as they were at the start, and while vesemirs glad they are more comfortable, it means hes in a house of bored teenagers in quarentine

-lambert has been in the midst of his emo teen phase, and if vesemir thought geralts was bad, this is 10x worse. he stomps everywhere and swears at everyone and in general is quite unpleasant. but on the bright side he at least helps vesemir in the kitchen (though hes not happy to do it) and keeps himself and his room relatively clean. its all vesemir can ask. he spends a lot of the time on the couch texting his not boyfriend aiden

-eskel has been working through some problems he found in his physics book for school, and for the better part of two weeks been trying to figure out the exact force to size ratio to make a catapult to launch one of geralts shoes over the house. with an actual catapult he made. vesemirs glad he at least is doing something academic. his room and state of cleanliness?? questionable, but to be fair he is building a 4ft catapult

-geralt has left his room maybe twice the whole quarentine and both times were to steal more sour cream and onion pringles. no one knows what he was doing in there, though vesemir knows its an absolute mess. fortunately, geralt seems to be getting tired of whatever he was doing, so vesemir hopes to see his face again

-anyway. eskel and geralt (when not in quarentine) are up to cause chaos at all times of the day, and despite geralt seeming shy, he is mainly the one who does the pranks, while eskel is the brains on the operation. however, as geralt has been in his room alone most of the time, eskel is getting bored, and its not like he can cause problems with lambert. for all his bitchyness, eskel knows hes terrified of getting on vesemirs bad side and is scared of what would happen should he really step out of line. eskel blames the man who once claimed to be lamberts father for that.

-so, eskel decides enough is enough and comes up with a plan to get geralt out of his room, and to get lambert doing something other than flirting with aiden.

-the plan isnt that complex, all it requires is a catapult. which eskel has completed. mostly. it still sometimes narrowly miss the window to vesemirs room. anyway, the plan is to launch something at where one of geralts wall is using something of lamberts, to make geralt mad at lambert, thus coming out of his room. or he'll steal geralts pringles and put them in lamberts room. he hasnt decided which plan he likes better.

-he eventually decides to steal the pringles. well, its not so much as decides as vesemir forcibly taking the catapult because he broke the window. either way, eskel realizes maybe his plan isnt as good as he thought.

-the problem? geralt wont fucking leave his room. eskel realizes he needs to cause a diversion, and thats what puzzles him for a week or so. if literally breaking a window doesnt get geralt to leave, he doesnt know what will.

-after a few weeks, his plan is set and ready. hes gonna make sure theres only two sour cream and onion pringles tins left, so when geralt goes out to get another thing of pringles, he knows there is only one left, so he'll tell vesemir to get more. vesemir will sigh and try to start a conservation, but will geralt flee before he does. thats when eskel gets to work. firstly, he knows that lamberts probably going to want to go to the store with vesemir (he hadnt left the house once since the start and it showed) and while he did that, he was going to steal the one tin of pringles left and put it in lamberts room. when lambert got home with vesemir, he would wait until vesemir and lambert couldnt see, and hide them in lamberts room. it was foolproof.

-so, the day of the heist rolls around and eskels so ready. everythings in place. geralt goes out to get his pringles. vesemir tries to talk to him. geralt ignores him after asking for more pringles. lambert overhears and begs vesemir to let him go. eskel steps in to convince vesemir. it doesnt take that much, to be honest, and off they go. eskel puts the pringles in lamberts room. when vesemir and lambert come back, they assume geralt took the last tin. eskel steals the rest of the pringles in the cabinet while lamberts in the bathroom. no one suspects a thing.

-it takes the next day for geralt to realize he has no pringles, and hes confused, because he knows lambert and vesemir went to the store, and he knows he asked for more. he even saw vesemir write it down on the grocery list! so he asks eskel, who he thinks would never touch his pringles.

-eskel, obviously, completely bullshits him and says he thought he saw them unpack them, and to maybe ask vesemir or lambert

-the pringles are currently in lamberts pants drawer. lambert doesnt know this yet.

-geralt goes to vesemir and asks, and vesemir shrugs and ignores him. two can play at the quiet game, and geralt scowls at him and goes to lambert

-lamberts like. what the fuck??? no i dont have ur pringles

-and geralt knows lambert ALSO really likes his pringles, and demands to check his room. he walks in and boom. there they are. in lamberts open pants drawer.

-"what the fuck?! why didnt you ask?"

-"i didnt fucking take them?? why the fuck would i take your fucking pringles?? how the fuck would i ask you haveng left your fucking shithole of a room in two months??"

-it gets worse, and geralts pissed bc lambert ""keeps lying to him"" and lamberts pissed bc he doesnt know what the hell geralts talking about, and vesemirs about to launch geralt using eskels catapult, and eskel??? he is no longer stuck in a quiet and boring house. hes content and just chilling

thank u for reading ik its long

[wowweeharrystyles]

Part 14 | Birthdays, Flares, & Sequins | 7.2k words

‘Sequins & Zippers’ Summary: An internship with Harry Lambert transformed into a job of a lifetime - Aurora Del Gatto finds herself touring the world with the one & only Harry Styles as his ‘Head of Wardrobe.’ Aurora is nothing but nerves & excitement as she packs her bags & almost 100 custom designer suits that belong to an unbelievably kind rockstar. She never thought she’d fall in love on top of it all.

Sequins & Zippers Masterlist

General Masterlist

Don’t forget that reblogs help writers out a ton !!!

love y’all, mean it.

___________________________

Aurora’s birthday starts with a knock on the door of her hotel room waking her up. She rolls out of bed and is met with a hotel employee when she opens the door. She moves out of the way and can barely get out a ‘good morning” from the shock she’s in when she sees the cart the employee wheels in. 

“Happy Birthday, Miss Del Gatto!” He greets her as he lifts off the silver lid to the plate. “Enjoy your breakfast.” 

Aurora rushes out a thank you and quickly grabs a few bills from her bag to tip him. Once he leaves she goes to investigate. A golden Belgium waffle, fruit, bacon and a french press full of coffee. There’s a vase of coral coloured roses and bursts of baby’s-breath and a note that’s propped up against said vase. She recognizes the handwriting as well as her own. “Rory” is scribbled across the envelope. A blush rises to her cheeks. 

Typically, Aurora’s birthday is uneventful. She likes it lowkey. If it’s lowkey, there’s no expectations to be met. There’s never a let down. There was 1 birthday where she tried to plan a night, dinner with her closest friends and then back to her apartment for a party. During that dinner she got text after text with some lame excuse or another that yet another person couldn’t come to the party. Aurora hated that birthday and ever since she just didn’t put a big effort in. She kept things small, dinner with family, movie night with Issac. 

It’s not even 10am and Aurora’s birthday is already better than any other year. She hadn’t even reminded Harry that her birthday was coming up. She did assume he had someone that kept him on top of it though. He never missed a crew member's birthday. Cake and singing on stage if it was a show day and always a massive cake for everyone at craft services. Aurora didn’t expect this; flowers, breakfast, a handwritten note. The more she thought about it, the more rosy her cheeks turned. 

She sent Harry a photo of the cart before she ate with a short thank you text and he responded with a phone call. He cheered over the phone from his hotel room, or maybe a business coffee meeting, she wasn’t sure, but he didn’t hold back. He was loud and excited and now Aurora’s cheeks weren’t just bright red, they hurt too, from smiling so big. 

Aurora ate the breakfast Harry sent to her while on the phone with her parents and then Leila and responded to a handful of texts from college friends as she got ready. Harry had told her to meet her later that afternoon at Soho House, the city club he was staying at. With the Chicago show happening the next day, they had a wide open schedule. Aurora told him she wanted a chill day, to enjoy the summer weather in the city. So they planned to spend the day at the Soho House pool deck and Harry shared that he had reservations for dinner later that evening. 

Aurora truly cannot complain a single bit about the afternoon. Her and Harry share a blue and white striped chaise on the pool deck and spend their time in and out of the pool, reading, and playing a few games of gin rummy when Mitch and Sara join them for a bit. It’s much later in the afternoon when they decide a nap is much needed. The sun is exhausting and frankly, it’s their 1st day off in a while. 

They’re tired. 

But that doesn’t stop them from showering off the chlorine together when they go back to Harry’s room. The pair linger under the steady stream of water in the obnoxiously (but thankfully) large shower. They don’t remember how tired they are until they get out of and Harry is lazily kissing Aurora’s skin as he dries her off. Harry tosses her a t-shirt of his to wear while they nap. They don’t sleep for long, but they do stay in the crisp white sheets, tangled together for longer. 

“Ope, your nose is a little burnt,” Harry practically whispers to Aurora while tapping the tip of her nose with his pointer finger. They’re laying so close that when Aurora scrunches her nose at the gesture he not only instantly feels the tightness of her skin there but the brush of Harry’s nose against her own. She reaches up to rub at it for a second. 

“Bound to happen, I guess. I just hope my back isn’t bad,” Aurora comments as she sits up, pulling away from Harry’s arms. “How bad is it?” she asks, tugging at the t-shirt to reveal some skin for Harry to get a good look. 

Harry doesn’t say anything. He reaches his hands out, sitting up behind Aurora. There’s warmth that transfers from her back to the palm of his hand but it isn’t hot. Harry moves the shirt higher up and kisses the middle of her spine. Aurora shudders. 

“No burn,” he says against her skin. 

“Really?” she asks, surprised. 

“Hey, I got your back when we got to the pool! Gotta trust that I wouldn’t let ya burn.” 

“No, no, no,” Aurora starts to explain, turning around to face him. “I just always burn, no matter what.” 

“Well, looks like all you’ve needed your entire life was me helping you with your sunblock.” Aurora groans and only manages to shake her head before she’s laughing and Harry’s joining in. Harry looks to clock on the bedside table. “We should start getting ready. Don’t wanna be late for our reservations.” Aurora sighs, because even though her stomach rumbles a bit at the thought of dinner, she’s perfectly happy right here with Harry. “Come on, love,” Harry says as he gets off the bed, hands out to encourage Aurora to get up and join him.

When Aurora stands, she does nothing to move to get ready. She wraps her arms around Harry’s waist and rests her head against his shoulder. She lets out a deep sigh. 

“Everything alright, Ror?” 

“Mhm,” Aurora hums, squeezing him tighter. Harry rubs a hand soothingly up and down her back. “Best birthday ever.” 

“It’s not over yet,” he says with a small chuckle. Harry pulls her head off of his shoulder and kisses her softly on the lips. “Go on now, I’ve gotta call Jeff to take care of something quick.” He presses his lips to her forehead before turning her around and pushing her towards the bathroom. 

Barely half an hour later when Aurora steps out of the bathroom, Harry is buttoning his shirt. He stops at the 3rd button and that could be because that’s where he intended to stop or he forgets what he’s doing when he sees her. Aurora has a satin finish, strappy dress on. A sharp V dips down at her chest and the skirt moves a bit as she walks towards him. 

“You look beautiful, Rory,” he breathes.

“Thank you,” she responds, a blush rising to her cheeks. “I like this shirt,” she compliments Harry, running her hand over the open collar. He squeezes at her waist feeling the sleek fabric that slides easily underneath his fingertips. 

Harry kisses the top of Aurora’s cheek before stepping away to rummage through his duffle that’s sitting open on the bed. When he turns around he has a small gold wrapped box in his hand. 

“Happy Birthday,” he says, handing her the box. 

Aurora can’t get any words out so she just smiles at him and takes the box. Carefully she pulls at the ribbon and sets it down on the table nearby. She rips away at the gold wrapping paper and is met with a turquoise box.

“Harry,” she whispers before setting the paper down with the ribbon. Her hands pause before she lifts the lid. Tiffany and Co. She takes a breath and lets it out. It doesn’t help with the flush that appears on her chest or the heat rising on the tips of her ears. 

If Aurora thought she couldn’t get any words out before, there’s no way in hell she can once she lifts the lid and sees what's inside. She sucks in a breath. 

She’s met with a delicate gold chain with small diamonds sparingly sprinkled throughout it. Aurora runs her finger over the necklace in the box.

The silence is almost driving Harry mad as he watches her every move. It feels like the room is getting smaller and nothing else exists besides her. Aurora can feel her skin heat up more and more as Harry takes a step closer

“May I?” Harry asks quietly, gesturing to the box. “Unless, you don’t like-”

“Like it? Aurora cuts him off, finally finding her voice, though it cracks a tad. “Harry, I’ve never seen anything so beautiful. It's far too much.” 

“It’s not too much. Let me, yeah?” Harry rushes out as Aurora begins to raise the necklace from the box. 

Harry takes the delicate gold necklace from the box. He swipes Aurora’s hair off to one side and she moves to gather it in her hand to get it out of the way. Harry’s hands move slowly, careful not to damage the necklace in any way. The chain is cold against Aurora’s skin and at the feeling of it she looks down at it against her chest. The diamonds sparkle and the minimal lights in the hotel room reflect off of them. She reaches to touch the necklace as Harry secures the clasp at the back of her neck. She can feel the coolness on her hand now but it starts to disappear as she notices how quickly her heart is racing. She’s speechless again and she can feel tears prickle at her eyes. Closing her eyes, she takes a deep breath but it still comes out shaky. The coolness is completely gone once Harry trails a finger down Aurora’s spine. There’s heat in the wake of his movements and after another deep, shaky breath, Aurora turns around and crashes her lips against Harry’s. 

This will have to do for words right now, she thinks. When they pull apart, barely, Harry’s breath fans across Aurora’s face and she can feel her chest rise and fall, the necklace still laying delicately there. Harry takes his hand and delicately touches the diamond that sits perfectly on Aurora’s sternum.

“Thank you,” Aurora whispers as she watches Harry admire the necklace he’s given her. “It’s absolutely beautiful.” Aurora lets one of her hands slide down Harry's arm, gives his hand a squeeze and then she walks towards the full length mirror that is hung on the wall. 

When she sees her reflection, she can’t help but smile. She reaches for the chain hanging on her neck because she has to touch it to make sure it’s really there. 

“Happy Birthday, my love,” Harry whispers in her ear as he wraps his arms around her waist from behind. His lips graze against the back of her ear and along the side of her neck. Aurora closes her eyes and let’s his arms wrap tighter and his lips cover more skin. 

Harry’s phone ringing across the room is what pulls them away from each other. The conversation is quick and Aurora puts her heels after Harry slides the phone into his pocket along with his wallet. Harry opens the door after one quick kiss and ushers Aurora out of the hotel room.

Aurora has never been one to find her reflection everywhere she can, but right now, with the diamonds picking up every single glint of light, she can’t help but awe at the sight of herself being trailed along the hotel hallway by Harry. His broad shoulders only a blur as she hones in on the sparkles in each mirror. 

“I never asked if you liked surprises or not,” Harry trails off as he leads Aurora through a dark lit hallway. Aurora gives him a wary look. “Doesn’t matter cause we’re here already and I promise you’ll like this one.”

“You said we were going out for dinner,” Aurora reminds him. 

Harry presses a sure kiss to the top of Aurora’s head and her heart beats hard against her chest, unsure of what Harry has planned. When they reach the door at the end of the hallway, Harry reaches in front of them to open the door and lead her through. A small glass window lined bar is on the other side and it seems like a normal thursday night but Harry doesn’t stop at the hostess stand or lead aurora to the bar. Instead, he grips her hand tighter and leads her to another door across the room. Aurora’s too preoccupied by fear of a surprise to actually take the time to come up with what the surprise could be. She can’t decipher between the beat of her heart and the butterflies in her stomach as Harry looks back at her with a smile that speaks more than anyone knows. 

She’s met with a sparkling, lowly lit rooftop. Aurora barely notices the strings of fairy lights that hang from the roof behind them to the slender beams at the edge of the deck before she sees all the familiar faces surrounding the door. A loud cheer of “Surprise!” echoes into the empty night sky. Aurora gasps. It didn’t even cross her mind that she’d be met with a group of people she calls family now. Her cheeks hurt from how far she’s stretched her mouth into a smile. Harry’s arm wraps around her waist tightly and he kisses her check. 

“Happy Birthday, Roo!” 

Aurora’s breath catches in her throat when she hears the familiar voice. Her eyes instantly well up with tears when she sees Issac walk towards her. She can feel Harry's grip on her waist loosen and she looks up to him and he just gives her a nod and smile. Aurora practically runs up to her best friend to hug him.

“What're you doing here?” Aurora asks when she pulls away from the hug. 

“You said I could come visit you on tour!” Issac answers, like it’s obvious. 

“I mean yeah, but I thought you decided on Denver!” 

“That was just the cover up. Harry messaged me on instagram to help plan your birthday. So here I am.” 

“You know I don’t like surprises!” 

“You don’t seem to hate this one.” 

Aurora hits him across the arm. “No, but it’s the principal!!” 

“Yeah okay, whatever you say, Roo. I’m going to go get a beer, what do you want?” 

“You know me well enough!” Aurora yells as Issac walks away towards the small bar that is set up in the corner of the rooftop. 

Aurora turns around, knowing Harry is hovering behind her. She takes no time at all to take his face in her hands and kiss him. 

“I love you,” she whispers against his lips before kissing him again. His grip on her waist tightens as he dips her back a tad. 

“Love you,” Harry whispers back between short pecks. “Happy Birthday, Ror,” he says once he’s pulled away and straightened the 2 of them out. He tucks a piece of hair behind her ear, his finger lingering across the top of her cheek and then down to the necklace that still lays perfectly around her neck. 

There’s a breeze on the rooftop, but the unmistakable summer humidity creates a light sheen of sweat across Harry’s chest where it peaks out above the lowly button shirt and Aurora can feel the heat radiating off of him. Neither of them mind the unavoidable warmth between them and they stay linked together as they move through the small crowd. Harry lets Aurora go when someone goes in to hug her and wish her a Happy Birthday, but he’s quick to wrap his arm back around her waist. Aurora can feel Harry play with the silky fabric of her dress, sometimes his hand roams her skin, thankful for the open back.

“Here you go, Birthday Girl,” Isaac says as he hands Aurora a glass that has salt lining the rim. “Margarita, just how you like it.” 

“I cannot believe you’re here right now,” Aurora says, still in disbelief, as she takes the glass from him. 

“Roo’s mentioned that you like straight tequila, so,” Issac addresses Harry, handing him a glass as well. Harry chuckles and thanks him. “Cheers!” 

“So do I need to formally introduce you two or?” Aurora asks after they all take a sip of their drinks. 

“Well, I messaged Issac on instagram like he said, but this is the first time we’ve met face to face, so,” Harry answers. 

“Alright, Harry this is Issac. Issac, this is Harry. You two are required to get along. There are no exceptions.” 

“Bossy one isn’t she?” Isaac jokes as he shakes Harry’s hand. 

“Sure is! Always telling me what to wear and fixing my clothes.” 

“Hey!!!” Aurora whines. 

Harry just giggles before kissing her cheek. 

“Oh great, y’all are gonna gang up on me from now on, huh?” 

Harry and Issac look at eachother, shrug their shoulders simultaneously and then yell out a ‘Yeah’ almost in sync. Aurora groans at them but can’t help the smile that tears across her face and she wished that she had dimples like Harry’s so that people could innately know exactly how happy she is in this moment. She wishes she could bottle up this feeling and keep it with her forever. Pull it out of her suitcase when she’s homesick in a hotel or anxious on an airplane; or even when she’s just as happy as she is now to remind herself that this feeling comes from the people she loves most in this world. It comes from them loving her just as much as she loves them. It's a feeling she truly could not explain as she looks from Harry to Issac’s face and then to the crowd around her on the rooftop, all there to celebrate her. Never has she felt like this on her birthday. 

Someone brings out a cake that’s littered with candles and a big sparkler on top when Aurora is drinking her 3rd or 4th margarita. Everyone joins in singing Happy Birthday and after Aurora blows out the candles Harry makes sure to scoop up a bit of icing and wipes it across her nose. 

Aurora plants herself on one of the couches on the roof to enjoy some cake and people come in and out of the party to drink and eat and chat but all Aurora really remembers is Issac and Harry sitting on either side of her. 

Issac hits it off with Mitch and Sarah and somehow manages to really get Mitch to talk. Issac definitely has that effect on people, easy to talk to, easy to get along with. Since Aurora can remember people have always flocked to him. He has this personality that attracts everyone and Aurora’s grateful for that. Growing up with Issac helped her not become a hermit and made her meet new people, try new things. She’s partly who she is because of him. 

“Got any funny stories about Aurora?” Helene asks Issac from the seat across from them 

“I’ve got loads. Narrow it down to an age and I’ll tell you my fav!” Issac says with a mischievous grin. Aurora groans and pleads for him not to share anything too embarrassing. 

“Hmmm, how about something from high school,” Harry requests and everyone that’s still hanging around nods with drunken enthusiasm. 

Issac thinks for a second, deciding which story to start with. “Okay, so you’ll need to see a few photos to get the full effect.” Harry cackles at the opening of the story and Aurora groans again cause she knows exactly the story Issac’s about to tell. 

| | | | | 

Aurora is sitting backstage in Harry’s dressing room, on the black couch that he has adorned with his Gucci pillows, something she’s started to make fun of him for. He gets all defensive about it, “makes it cozy in here,” he always fights back with a small pout. Or “I like them, leave me alone,” he’ll whine. Harry comes to sit down on the couch with Aurora once he’s showered and in a clean set of track pants and sweatshirt. Aurora’s legs are curled up on the couch and she pats her hands on the tops of her thighs, signaling for Harry to join her and lay his head there. 

“How’re you feeling?” Aurora asks. They both know they drank more than their share last night and Harry was groggy going into his boxing session. 

“Surprisingly good,” he says softly as he crosses his arms over his chest, gently closing his eyes. Aurora rests her hand on top of his arms and places the other starts to play with the fine hair right at his hairline. “Boxing wasn't horrible. Anyways, last night was worth it” he says with a small smile before sighing. 

“Yeah, it was,” Aurora sighs too. “I can’t tell you enough how incredible all of yesterday was.” 

“You told me that over and over again last night,” Harry opens his eyes to look up at Aurora. “And then again this morning,” he offers another smile to Aurora and brings the hand that’s resting with his up to his lips and kisses Aurora’s knuckles gently. Harry rests their hands back to where they were but doesn’t release his hold on Aurora’s. 

“Well I’m gonna keep saying it,” Aurora says and continues the movement in Harry’s hair. “I’ll never forget last night.” 

“I won’t either. Quite a memorable night,” Harry says with a smirk, opening one eye to peer up at Aurora. “Party was good, but the after party,” Harry trails off, an overly flirtatious tone to his voice and his eyebrows waving suggestively. Aurora returns his smirk with a glare and a small shake of her head. Always so cheeky. “Hey, from what I remember, you loved the after party, too,” his smirk grew, showcasing a dimple. 

“‘After party’ implies there were more than 2 people,” Aurora corrects him in a rush, then rolls her eyes as Harry lets out a giggle. “Shush.” 

“Oh, you can’t even keep that grin off your face,” he says, now both eyes open and a full chuckle erupting from his chest. Aurora looks away from his snarky gaze trying to avoid smiling from ear to ear. “Love how flustered you get, sometimes.”

There’s a light, but obvious knock on the dressing room door. 

“Come in,” Aurora chokes out as the smile she’d been avoiding covers her entire face. 

“Hey, Aurora! Harry, just letting you know, 1 hour till curtain for Kacey,” Scott, one of the stage managers announces as he peeks his head into Harry’s dressing room. “Ayae, should be in in about 10 minutes, as well.” 

“Thanks Scott,” Harry says as he sits up on the couch. Scott closes the door behind him. “Hi,” Harry flashes a dopey smile at Aurora before standing up. He moves so he’s directly in front of her. He leans down and rests his hands on the back of the couch on either side of Aurora’s head. She tilts her head up towards his and her nose crinkles as his hair tickles her cheek bones, just long enough to touch now. His smile pulls up higher on the left side, eliciting a deep dimple on his cheek. He presses his lips into Aurora’s quickly, pulling away just as soon as they’re connected. Aurora reaches her hands up to his face, bringing him back to her and pressing her lips to his this time. Aurora’s right hand slides it way to his hair and the other grabs at the neck of the hoodie he’s wearing, pulling him down closer to her. The kiss deepens slightly before Harry pulls away, a smirk on his face. He shakes his head at Aurora before standing up straight. She sighs and sinks back into the couch. 

As Harry walks over to the vanity across the room, Aurora’s eyes divert to his suit for tonight. Aurora can’t quite decide if it’s more burgundy or pink. The velvet trimming on the lapels and sleeve hems are a perfect touch and give the already beautiful suit a sharp finish. Aurora’s eyes travel to the pants that are hanging with the jacket and black buttondown. The exaggerated flares are billowing, even just hanging on the hanger. Aurora looks at the flares a little bit longer, her head tilting to the side as she thinks. Harry’s tall and a whole lot of leg, but the pants seem extremely long, dangerously long. Aurora thinks back to the fittings and can’t remember him trying them on during prep week. Fuck. 

“H, maybe your loafers aren’t the best idea for shoes tonight” Aurora suggests, a concerned look on her face. 

“Uhh, they should be fine. They’re comfortable on stage,” he answers, distractedly, responding to something on his phone. 

“Why don’t you wear your heeled chelsea boots?”

“Hmm?” 

“Your heeled boots? I think you should wear those instead.” 

“My boots? Why?” he questions, setting his phone down and sitting in the chair in front of the vanity. 

“Flares seem a bit long…”

“I’ve got long legs, sweetheart,” he says as he straightens one leg out, exaggerating his movements. Aurora rolls her eyes.

“I know you do, but those flares are longer than your legs. Don’t want you tripping on stage, already clumsy as is.” Aurora sighs, “I don’t think we hemmed those at all.” 

“I’m sure they’ll be fine,” Harry responds. 

They’re not fine and Aurora repeatedly asks Harry to wear different shoes or let her stitch them up but he’s being stubborn and is convinced they’re fine. He parades around backstage swooshing the exaggerated flares. To each their own, Aurora thinks before realising she’s smiling watching him. She can’t help the butterflies that find a home in her stomach when Harry looks back to her. He drops a wink at Aurora before looking back at his band crowded around him. 

“Hey, Roo,” Issac calls to Aurora from down the hall. “Ya ready to go? I don’t wanna miss Kacey.” 

“Uh yeah, just one second!” 

It’s as if Harry can feel Aurora approach him because he’s turning around with his arms open to pull her into a hug. 

“Good luck,” Aurora whispers into his ear. Harry thanks her with a kiss and quick squeeze to her waist when they pull apart. “Please be careful in those pants on stage.” 

“You worry too much. I’ll see you after, okay? Have fun with Issac!” 

“You seem nervous,” Issac tells Aurora bluntly as they walk to the back of the pit near the sound mix. 

“Harry’s gonna trip on his pants.” Issac laughs at her response. “He was being stupidly stubborn and wouldn’t let me fix ‘em. They’re too long.” 

“So your rockstar is gonna twist his ankle tonight?” Aurora hums before laughing. 

Aurora’s missed Issac like hell. Concerts have always been their thing. There hasn’t been a single one of Harry’s shows that Aurora didn’t wish her best friend was with her. They have so many memories at different concerts across the country. They’ve seen just about all of their favourite musicians. It reminds her of college because they would really only see each other if there was a concert. They’d visit each other in their respective cities and make a few days out of it. At least one night at a concert, another having a movie marathon of their favourites like She’s The Man and August Rush and a tearful goodbye when they had to go back to real life and catch up on papers and studying. It feels like home with Issac next to her singing along to Harry’s lyrics. They hold hands and lean against each other during the slower songs like Meet Me in the Hallway and From the Dining Table and Sign of the Times. They sing along at the top of their lungs to What Makes You Beautiful just like they used to in high school while driving around with nothing better to do. Issac pokes fun at Aurora when she smiles stupidly up at Harry on stage and she just rolls her eyes in response. 

“Chicago, we have two songs left and before we go I wanted to introduce you to my wonderful, wonderful band,” Harry begins as the beat of ‘The Chain’ begins on Sara’s drums. He introduces Adam, Clare and Sarah. After introducing Mitch, the guitar and bass kicks in and Aurora laughs in surprise as Harry pulls his pants up as much as he can before walking to his mic stand. 

Aurora and Issac sing and dance along to song like they have the entire night. The floor is shaking and the feeling in Aurora’s chest is undeniable. Right now with her best friend by her side and her Harry on stage, she truly feels like her heart might rip out of her chest. 

“Chicago, I’ve got you for 5 more minutes,” Harry begins his closing speech. “If you haven’t been singing, that’s no problem. If you haven’t been dancing so far, that’s no problem. For the next 5 minutes, I need you singing every word. For the next 5 minutes, I need you dancing like there is nobody next to you. You are not going to see these people tomorrow! So why do you care? Are you gonna go for it with me?” he yells. “Lets go!” 

Aurora stops in her tracks when the break in the music starts, a bad feeling in the pit of her stomach as Harry starts to dance around the stage. In the split second Harry stops dancing and reaches for his mic he steps on the flare of his left pant leg and simultaneously starts singing again. Aurora’s jaw drops. In the small time Harry stops singing she sees him mouth to Mitch “Ouch.” Not only does she see this interaction but she can tell by the look on his face he knows there’s an “I told you so” coming his way. Mitch just laughs as Harry goes back to singing.

Aurora drops to the floor in a second, her knees buckling from laughter, her hands on her face to cover her smile. She knows Harry knows where she is in the audience and surely he’s thinking about looking for her to find her reaction OR he’s completely avoiding meeting her eyes in the crowd. 

“Oh My God!” Aurora yells to Issac once she stands up. “He made it so far without tripping. But ‘Chain’ and ‘Kiwi’ are always a risk,” she yells in Issac’s direction. 

“Wow you know him well,” Issac laughs. 

Harry’s performance isn’t affected by the trip so either Harry’s really great at covering it up or the only thing it bruised was his ego. 

“How’s your ankle, bub?” 

Harry huffs, “Go ahead.

“Nah,” Aurora decides. 

“It’s worse if you don’t say it.” 

“Nah, I think you’ve suffered enough,” Aurora says with a small laugh. She breaks the seal on the inside of an instant cold pack. “Here,” she offers it to him after shaking it a bit. 

“Do you just carry these in your purse?” Harry asks as he shrugs the plaid jacket off before sitting down. 

“No, it was in my cart,” Aurora points to her set of rolling drawers by Harry’s wardrobe. Aurora rolls the flare of his pants up out of the way, grabs a pillow from the couch and sets it on the table. She pats it, “put your foot up.” Harry narrows his eyes at her. “Come on, don’t want it to swell too much.” Aurora grabs a towel from the counter quickly and then joins Harry on the couch. Harry gives her a questioning look again. “What?” 

“So you just carry ice packs around,” Harry asks again. 

“I mean no, but always keep them with my stage stuff. My cart used to be my backstage kit for dance then I used it in college for my fashion classes,” Aurora starts to explain. Harry’s face still read confusion so she continues. “When I packed for tour, it felt right to have all the necessities, stage and sewing.” Aurora shrugs. Now she rolls Harry’s sock down a bit so she can see the colour of his skin. “No bruising yet, that's good. Probably just irritated, but didn’t sprain it at least.” She places the towel over his ankle and then takes the ice pack from his hands and lays it on top. 

“So you’re not angry with me?” 

Aurora snaps her head to look at him, her brows furrowed. “Why would I be angry?” 

“Cause you knew my pants were too long and I didn’t let you fix them.” 

“Harry, I don’t know where you got that idea, but I could never be angry about that. I’m sorry it happened but clearly you learned your lesson,” Aurora laughs looking at the ice on his ankle. “Not that big of a deal.” Harry lets out a sigh. “Let’s just make sure you’re careful and it isn’t bad. You still have quite a few shows left.” 

“You’re worrying too much,” Harry says now reaching a hand out to Aurora’s face. 

“Not worrying, I just know how bad ankle injuries can be if you don’t take care of them. I’ve had plenty of sprains in my life.” 

“I’m really fine, Ror.” 

“None of that. Let me take care of you.” Aurora tries to stand, tylenol and water is next on the list.

“Come ‘ere,” Harry pulls on her hand. Aurora falls back into the couch and Harry wastes no time kissing her. He kisses her hard to thank her and to distract him from his painful and cold ankle. 

| | | | |

Harris: saw some photos from last night! The shirt looks much better backwards if i’m being honest

Aurora: BACKWARDS ?????- 

Harris: hahahaha the tie was meant to go in the back- 

Aurora: oh my god. I literally have one job. Dress him, correctly. That's it.- 

Harris: it was a creative decision!- 

“What’re you giggling about over there?” Harry’s voice is muffled against the pillow. 

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” Aurora leans over to Harry on the other side of the bed. She runs her hand over his shoulder and then presses a kiss to the bareskin of his back. Goosebumps rise all over his skin and Aurora tries to smooth them out with the warmth of her palm. 

Harry hums, “not really asleep, just like laying here with you like this.” 

“We’re not even cuddling,” Aurora says with an eye roll that Harry can’t see but definitely can hear in her voice. 

“Nah,” Harry’s voice is still low and grumbly from sleep, “just like knowing you’re right there, that in the early moments of the mornings, I get to be in the same space as you.” Aurora can’t fight the smile that tears at her mouth and Harry catches it as he rolls over to look at her. “Come ‘ere, though, I always like a good cuddle.” 

Harry wraps his arms around Aurora’s waist and hides his face into her neck. The feeling of his hot breath on her skin makes her giggle and try to pull away. Harry’s arms only tighten and his lips lazily graze against her neck. For a moment they get lost in the morning sunlight coming through the windows and how the heat of each other’s skins feels on one another. Harry doesn’t make any attempt to open his eyes for the day yet, he lets his hands wander over Aurora. 

“What were you giggling about anyways?” 

“Oh! It was Harris, they said they saw some photos of their design from the show last night, but guess what.” 

“What?”

“I dressed you in it backwards!” Harry’s mouth drops open dramatically. “The bow was meant to be in the back!” 

“Ohhhh that might explain the deep V then…” he trails off trying to hide a smile. 

“My only job is to make sure you’re dressed.”

“I was dressed…” 

“Not correctly!” Aurora fights back, a giggle bubbling up in her throat. 

“I think 1 miss in a 89 show tour is a pretty good track record.” 

“Ugh, I guess. The deep V was popular though,” Aurora says, looking at the bright side of the mistake.  

“So you did it on purpose?” Harry teases. 

“I did not!” Aurora squeals as Harry sneaks his arm between Aurora and the mattress to pull her into a tight squeeze. He teases his lips across her collar bone. And that jogs Aurora’s memory of the moments they shared in the dressing room before the show. 

Aurora’s dragging her finger lightly down the middle of Harry’s chest after tracing his collar bones. She stops at the butterfly and she feels Harry’s stomach twitch lightly and his hot breath fan across her face. Aurora gets carried away with the sight in front of her. From the sparkle reflecting in Harry’s eyes, to the build of his chest that is just expanding with every boxing session he does, Aurora can’t help but press a kiss to his sternum instead of tying the fabric that hangs from his collar. Harry sneaks his hands around her waist and pulls her closer. He lands his lips on her neck and then behind her ear. 

“Think you might have,” Harry teases again, pulling Aurora out of her flashback.

 Aurora brushes off the teasing and memories from the night before with a small shake of her head. She focuses on Harry in front of her and as if she couldn’t be more consumed by him, she takes in a deep breath and isn’t air she’s inhaling. It’s him. It’s always him. His scent, nothing too strong, no cologne just the lingering smell of his clean hair and faded minty breath. In between pressing her lips against his they both giggle, their legs getting tangled in the sheets. Aurora rolls the 2 of them over so Harry’s on his back. It’s a lazy and clumsy but neither of them care. She kisses down his neck and then across his collar bone like she did the night before. Her eyes linger along the tattoos that scatter his chest and shoulders. 

“Oh, sequins must’ve really bothered ya huh?” Aurora asks, pulling away. She glides her finger across Harry’s shoulder where a faint red rash is left. 

“Told you they were itchy!” 

“I’ve worn sequins more times than I can count, I won’t hear your complaints. Comes with the territory. If you wanna be a sparkly rockstar you gotta get used to it.” Aurora teases. Harry huffs at her. “I’ve been dealing with sequins since I was 3, I won’t sympathize with you.”

“Think one day you’ll show me some old dance videos?” Harry’s voice is soft. He’s over complaining about sequins, it’s a loosing battle anyways.

“My old recital tapes are all back home. So you won’t be seeing those anytime soon.” 

“Maybe when I come visit?” 

“Visit?” 

“Yeah,” Harry says as he traces a finger across Aurora’s cheek, “figured I’d come visit you in New York once tour is over.” 

“I don’t have an apartment yet.” 

“You’ll figure that out, but I’ll visit you at home home. Wanna see your hometown and maybe those old posters you had in your room.” Aurora groans when Harry teasingly squeezes her waist. 

“Those are long gone. Also a heads up, I still only have a twin bed in my room. Anyways, my parents will definitely make you stay in a separate room.” 

Harry barks a laugh, “will they really?” 

“Sure will.” 

“Well, sneaking around is fun.” 

“Shut up,” Aurora whispers as she blushes. “Would Anne make me stay in a separate room?” 

“She’s definitely tried it. Made Michael sleep in the guest room for the first year he and Gemma started dating. But I’m really good at persuading her to let me have my way when I’m home.” 

“I mean, those puppy dog eyes really do some damage,” Aurora compliments before pressing a kiss to Harry’s cheek. “When are you planning to go back home?” 

Harry hums, thinking, “Probably stay in LA for a bit. Catch up with everyone here and sort some things out. Then make my way back to England. Settle back in and then visit mum and Gemma for a bit.” Aurora sighs. She really hasn’t given post tour details much thought. Aurora absentmindedly plays with a loose thread on the edge of the tshirt she’s wearing. She’s unsure how to bring it up, frankly, she doesn’t want to hash out the details because she knows the details will have very little Harry in them. “Alright?” Harry asks quietly and squeezes her hips lightly. 

“Yeah,” Aurora whispers. 

“C’mon,” Harry encourages. 

“It’s just, just,” Aurora sighs again. “It’s hard not knowing when we’ll see eachother once tour’s over.” 

“Remember I said I wouldn’t just leave you hanging at the end of tour. Honestly, don’t think I’ll be able to stay far from you for very long.”

“Think we’re a bit spoiled being with each other almost everyday.”

“Yes,” Harry agrees, “but, we’ll get to do other things once tour is over. I plan on taking a long break and going back to the studio when I feel like it. No due date for another album, I've got nothing but time.” 

“It’s just gonna be so different,” Aurora says softly, still thinking too much. “A bit scary to think about.

“Go get your planner,” Harry encourages. “Let’s block some time, won’t be so scary then.” Aurora quite literally scurries over to her bag after clumsily crawling off Harry. She misses the heat of Harry and her legs covered in goosebumps the second the air conditioned air hits them. “It’s always helped me to set some stuff up, doesn’t have to be fully planned or anything but having something to look forward to makes it better, I guess.” Aurora slides back under the covers and copies Harry, who is now sitting on the bed, back against the headboard. She smiles at Harry for a moment, taking in his messy curls, smooth tattooed skin apart from the rash along his shoulder. 

“Remind me to give you some cream for that,” she says with a small giggle as she taps her pen on his shoulder. “Have I told you about my family’s lakehouse?” Aurora asks when she opens her planner in her lap.

“A bit, yeah,” he recalls with a hum. He’s on his phone opening his calendar. 

“I really wanna take you there.” 

“I’d like that. When?”

Harry and Aurora spend the rest of the morning planning the next few months. 

Stay in LA for a few days after the final show. Harry in New York late August; lake house, hometown, apartment shopping etc. Aurora in England with Harry to visit Anne and Gemma. Thanksgiving in New York. New Years in London. And they can’t forget the unplanned things that’ll definitely happen when Aurora starts her new job and Harry gets back to his own work. 

And Harry was right, it isn’t so scary once they’ve gotten some trips written down. They’ve got lots to look forward to. 

[kurts-still-here]

SongFic #3 Of The “Kurtbastian Singing Adam Lambert” series. “Sure Fire Winners”

This one is just Sebastian and Kurt having fun and being sexy together 😎😎. Songfic #4 will be up in a few days most likely but I hope you enjoy!!

Please leave any comments you have etheir on here or on A03 or FanFiction.Net !! 😁😁🤗🤗 Thank you!!

Archive Of Our Own: https://archiveofourown.org/works/32874553

FanFiction.Net: https://www.fanfiction.net/s/13927358/3/Kurtbastian-Singing-Adam-Lambert (Chapter 3)

“We are so going to win this,” Kurt exclaimed as he walked out of the bathroom stall and looked at his outfit in the mirror. He was wearing a black leather jacket, a skintight black shirt, black leather pants and black, knee-high laced up boots. He had on sunglasses even though it was indoors and his hair was spiked up with hair gel. He had drawn a star on his cheek and had blue and purple glitter on his face along with guyliner.

“Well they might as well just give it to us now with the way we look,” Sebastian said, walking out of his stall and up to Kurt. Him and Kurt were matching except Sebastian wasn’t wearing the laced-up boots. He looked his boyfriend up and down and smiled. “We look hot.”

“I know we do babe,” Kurt said, kissing him on the cheek. “And our performance is going to be even better, I know it.”

“Yeah well we better get going, don’t want to keep everyone waiting. Do you think Mr. Schue and Artie have everything set up?” Sebastian asked. They had asked Mr. Schue if they could have some special effects and props for their performance and their teacher had happily agreed.

“I don’t know,” Kurt said, taking out his phone. “I’ll text Artie and ask him.”

The week’s assignment in the glee club was to sing a song about victory and Kurt and Sebastian had admittedly known the perfect song for them to sing. It was upbeat and full of energy. The assignment was a competition and whatever group won got the duet at Sectionals. Sebastian didn’t really care about winning since he had been the lead soloist for the Warblers and had sung solos at the competitions but he knew that Kurt wasn’t as lucky as him even if he was the most talented performer in the group. He knew how much a duet would mean for Kurt so they went all out with costumes, make-up, special effects and props. They also came up with matching choreography and Sebastian had to say that it was the most work and effort he had ever put into anything. But it was all worth it because he knew they were going to win and he really wanted that duet for Kurt. His boyfriend deserved it.

Kurt had told him about the glee club’s duet competition last year and about how he ended up singing a duet by himself because Finn didn’t want him to sing with Sam. It had just hurt Kurt even more when Sam and Quinn had won the competition and Kurt had told him that even though he loved singing “Le Jazz Hot” that he was glad he had a partner this year. Sebastian had seen the video of Kurt’s performance and thought that Kurt would be the only person in the world who could pull off singing a duet as a solo.

His costume was so creative and so was the background he had designed. He had also designed costumes for the Cheerios he had paid to act as background dancers for him and the choreography was stunning. Sebastian thought that he should’ve won but Kurt told him that Finn and Rachel were acting fishy the whole time so they probably had something to do with Sam and Quinn’s win. Not that they didn’t deserve to win but even Santana and Mercedes’ performance of “River Deep, Mountain High'' was mind blowing. Kurt didn’t care about winning so much as having someone to sing with and made a joke saying that he may be able to sing a duet by himself but that he didn’t want to have dinner by himself. But last year didn’t matter anymore because this year they were going to win a duet at Sectionals and not some stupid dinner at a cheap restaurant when Sebastian could easily pay for his own date and could take Kurt to a 5-star restaurant.

Plus this time the group couldn’t vote for themselves so as long as they blew it out of the park then they were for sure the winners. They were the last to go this week seeing that they had spent so long preparing themselves and that they had just finished up their performance the previous day. Brittany and Santana had sung “Try Everything” by Shakira, Finn and Rachel had sung “The Climb” by Miley Cyrus, Sam and Puck had sung “Victorious” by Panic! At The Disco, Tina, Mercedes and Quinn had sung “Shake It Off” by Taylor Swift as a trio and Mike and Artie had sung “On Top Of The World” by Imagine Dragons. All the performances were good but Sebastian thought that the only competition they really had was against Sam and Puck since they had picked a song similar to theirs, the only difference was they didn’t put in the extra effort. They had it in the bag.

“He says they're ready,” Kurt squealed. “Oh, I’m so excited, Seb, just imagine us singing a duet at Sectionals. Together. It’d be so romantic and fun and we would win the competition for the New Directions.”

“Well you won’t have to imagine much longer. You deserve this more than anyone else Kurt. Don’t go down without a fight, okay?” Sebastian told him. Sebastian thought that sometimes Kurt went too easy on his friends and let them push him to the side when Kurt was a star. He needed to stand up for himself more and go after what he wanted.

“I won’t, I promise.” Kurt said and grabbed ahold of Sebastian’s hand. “Now let’s go win this duet.” He cheered and they grabbed their stuff before walking out of the bathroom.

They walked to the choir room hand in hand, mentally preparing themselves for their song. They couldn’t help but worry a little too much, especially Kurt. The choreography was a little complicated and it had taken them some time to really nail it down but it would be worth it in the end. It was fast, just like the music and they had to mind the spacing in the choir room also.

Once they reached the choir room they stood outside of the doors, Kurt to the right and Sebastian to the left. They were planning to come into the room when the music started to surprise everyone and to add an effect. They would storm into the room, grabbing everyone’s attention and the lights and the costumes and the choreography and the singing would be a crowd pleaser.

“Okay, why am I so nervous?” Kurt asked, pacing back and forth, fidgeting with his hands.

“I don’t know, why are you?” Sebastian asked. Kurt had no reason to be nervous right now. He was amazing and he could and would pull this off. “Hey, look at me babe,” He told Kurt and took his hands to hold them. “We’re going to win this and we're going to perform at Sectionals. Don’t worry about it, you’re going to psych yourself out.”

“I know,” Kurt nodded. “I just… things are never certain and I really want this Seb. It’s my last Sectionals and I want it to be really special.”

“I know you do and I want this for you too so just calm down, focus, breathe and get your head in the game.”

“I will,” Kurt said, doing what Sebastian told him to do and taking a deep breath. “Artie says that he’ll text me when they're ready inside but the band is still setting up.”

Sebastian nodded and gave Kurt a kiss before going back to the other door to the choir room. Inside everyone was talking to each other about the setup of the room.

“Of course this is for Lady Hummel and Fivel, gays always go full out,” Santana said, looking around the room.

“Well doesn’t this seem like a little too much?” Rachel asked the group who just shrugged in response. “I mean it’s not like they’re going to win over me and Finn.”

“You know what Man-Hands,” Quinn snapped. “Just for that I’m not voting for you. And The Climb was the worst. How is that about victory?”

“It’s about overcoming obstacles in life. My obstacles being you guys and how hard it is working with people who are less talented than you.” Rachel said, nonchalantly.

“Rachel, babe, you can’t just say things like that.” Finn told her. “It’s not nice. But anyways, this does seem like something Kurt would do. Remember his “duet” last year?”

“You mean the duet he did by himself because your homophobic ass couldn’t handle him singing a song with Sam?” Quinn asked, raising an eyebrow. “I remember and he nailed it. You guys better watch out because now he has Sebastian and we all know how badly he wants a duet.”

“Hey, I wasn’t being homophobic, I was looking out for the team. Sam knows what I’m talking about right dude?” Finn asked Sam who shrugged.

“I don’t know man, some of the shit you said was really offensive. And I was all set to sing with him and then you talked to us and he set me free. I would totally have still done it if it wasn’t for you.” Sam explained, narrowing his eyes at Finn. Sam liked Kurt a lot and they were really close with one another. Sam treated Kurt like he was one of the guys and they had only bonded more when Kurt had helped him out the previous school year with his siblings. He had really wanted to sing with him but then Kurt had let him go and Sam was too worried about his popularity at the time to try and get Kurt to keep their arrangement. Up until now Kurt and Sam had only sung one or two lines together in a group piece and Sam had always thought that maybe he could still see if Kurt wanted to sing with him. He’d have to ask him.

“That’s not what I meant, it’s just…” Finn’s voice trailed off and threw his hands in the air, frustrated. “... you just don’t get it,”

“It doesn’t matter now anyway. Kurt has a partner this time and it’s obvious that he’s in it to win it with Seb,” Tina said. “He should’ve gotten this a long time ago.” She rolled her eyes at Rachel.

“Yeah well he could’ve gotten a solo at Sectionals two years ago if he would’ve hit the high F but he couldn’t despite saying he was able to. It’s not my fault that I have a superior vocal range.” Rachel sneered.

“You know what Berry I’m sick of your shit,” Santana yelled, pointing her finger at Rachel. “Let me give you a little newsflash here. First of all, half the people in this room like Artie, Mercedes and I have a better vocal range than you. Kurt can sing just as good as any of us but no one ever gives him the chance to shine. He can hit that note, he’s hit it several times before right in front of you but you never noticed because your ego’s ten sizes the size it should be. We weren’t going to tell you because we didn’t want to risk you throwing a hissy fit and blabbing your mouth but we already decided that we’re voting for him. He deserves this and he’s the only member of this club that hasn’t had a chance to shine yet. So shut up, suck it up and deal with it you selfish bitch.” Santana fell back in her seat and folded her arms across her stomach as she watched her friends' (and Rachel’s) expressions.

All the girl besides Rachel looked proud of her (and why shouldn't they be), the boys looked surprised and shocked (which they shouldn't be because that wasn’t the first time she had told Berry off) and Finn and Rachel looked like she had just slapped them (and they were lucky that she didn’t because she really wanted to).

The room was silent for a few seconds before Artie and Mr. Schue came out of Mr. Schue’s adjoining office. “Okay everyone, I think we’re all ready to watch our last performance from Kurt and Sebastian. Artie you can get Kurt to tell him that we’re all ready for him.” Artie pulled out his phone to text Kurt while Mr. Schue continued talking. “Now after they are finished we’ll be voting to see who wins the competition and remember, you can’t vote for yourselves this time.”

“Is there even a point in voting?” Rachel muttered and everyone except Finn shot her a death glare.

“Okay, he says that they’re ready,” Artie said. “Let’s start up the smoke and then he says they’ll come in when the music starts playing.”

“Alright then,” Mr. Schue said, going over to the smoke machine and staring it up. “Hit it you guys,” He said, referring to the band who started playing the background music for the song.

“Wait,” Kurt said. “I hear the music,” He told Sebastian. “Ready babe?”

“Born ready babe,” Sebastian assured his boyfriend. “Let’s do this,”

And with that they opened their doors and walked into the choir room like they had planned to. They admittedly started singing while going through the choreography like they planned. The scene was perfect. They were blue and purple lights flashing around the room and Mr. Schue and Artie had properly set up the smoke machine so that the room was misty. Kurt and Sebastian felt like they were at an actual rock concert which got them in the mood for their performance even more.

We're coming up like killing machines

Our big guns gonna shatter your scene

It's pandemonium on the floor

'Cause everybody wants a little more

They wanna ride on the rocket ship

Ride around the moon for a velvet kiss

'Cause all the girls and the boys wanna know

How far this bad wild child's gonna go

Everyone seemed to be enjoying their performance already except for Rachel who had a stony expression on her face and who sat there in her chair with her arms crossed. They kept dancing and Kurt felt a sort of high when he realized that they were hitting the moves exactly like how they had planned. Kurt turned into Sebastian and then Sebastian took his arm and spun him back out. Then they had prepped themselves before going into a roundoff back handspring in the choir room, earning clapping and cheering from their friends.

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

Bringing the heat and the word is out

Giving you something to shout about

We are, yeah, we are, we are the sure fire winners

Sure fire winners, sure fire winners, sure fire winners

They both sang the chorus and walked around the room and interacted with their audience, Sebastian high fived Puck and Sam while Kurt danced with Quinn and Brittany. ‘So far so good’ Kurt thought to himself, excitedly. He was so happy that they seemed happy about him being so extra about the performance and that they seemed to love it. He was just a few minutes away from winning the duet, he could feel the feeling of victory already and the song just pumped him up even more.

Flick the switch and the missile will fire

I'm a heat seeker when I'm full of desire

We're all drawn to the heat of the flame

'Cause you wanna be a star in the hall of fame

I was born with glitter on my face

My baby clothes made of leather and lace

And all the girls in the club wanna know

Where did all their pretty boys go?

The boys went back to the center of the room and Sebastian quickly glanced over to Kurt and was happy to see how into it he was. He was moving along with the music, adding his own pizazz to their dancing. He put his hand on his face and dragged it down his face to emphasize the glitter and then took his jacket off his shoulders slightly, matching with the lyrics. On the last line they stood back to back and sang it together as the audience continued to cheer and holler.

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

Bringing the heat and the word is out

Giving you something to shout about

We are, yeah, we are, we are the sure fire winners

Winners winners

They started singing the chorus again. They stood on opposite sides of the room and swung one leg forward before forcing it back and flipping over into a backflip. Then Kurt slid to the floor in a split and swung his legs forward to spin himself around on the floor. Sebastian walked over to him and took his hand spinning him around in the floor before helping him up off the floor. Kurt stood up gracefully and Sebastian dipped Kurt back. They held the pose as Sebastian took over the lyrics and then Sebastian lowered Kurt down so he could fall into a backbend. He let go as Kurt kicked himself over and then they started singing the bridge.

Ooh yeah, take a walk on the wild with me

Gonna take you to the top to the brink of what you believe

Never gonna stop 'til we reach the top

Never gonna stop 'til we reach the top

You'd better get out of the game it's never gonna be the same

Move over 'cause a new boy's calling it time

They both hit the high note and Kurt had to resist the temptation he had to ditch the choreography and to jump up and down with excitement. They walked around the room, clapping their hands together and the rest of the glee club even Rachel joined in on the clapping. There was no way they weren’t going to win. Everyone was loving them and they were doing amazing. They were on fire, they were pumped up and they were going to finish out strong.

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

Bringing the heat and the word is out

Giving you something to shout about

We are, yeah, we are, we are the sure fire winners

They pumped their fists up in the air as they sang the lyrics. Mercedes, Tina and Quinn were singing the lyrics along with them, Mike, Brittany and Santana were doing their own moves in their seats, Puck, Sam and Artie were pumping their fists along with Kurt and Sebastian and Finn and Rachel were quietly observing the scene but Kurt could tell that they were both impressed with him and his boyfriend.

Ooh yeah yeah-oh yeah yeah yeah

Mr. Schue’s expression was the best though. He seemed shocked with Kurt’s and Sebastian’s dance moves and singing, like he didn’t know they had it in them. There was nothing more that both boys loved more than proving people wrong while also proving themselves.

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

We are the sure fire winners

Uh-oh yeah big time hitters

Bringing the heat and the word is out

Giving you something to shout about

Yeah we are, yeah, we are, we are the sure fire winners

Kurt walked over to Sebastian and they stood next to each other as they finished out their dancing, ensign off with a series of complicated footwork. They got it right, matching it up with music and ended their song, posing, back to back again, with their arms crossed and their heads bowed down a little so that their sunglasses slipped down to the bridge of their noses.

Gonna take you to the top to the brink of what you believe

Gonna take you to the top to the brink of what you believe

Gonna take you to the top to the brink of what you believe

The music faded out and they held their pose as they got a standing ovation from their friends. Everyone cheered and clapped for them and Kurt finally gave in to his temptation and jumped up and down, holding hands with Sebastian. They hugged each other and Sebastian lifted Kurt off his feet.

“Wow,” Mr. Schue exclaimed. “That was amazing boys. The costumes, the special effects, the energy, kudos to the both of you.”

“Thank you,” Kurt said, still full of energy. He was so happy at the moment, he wouldn’t even be that upset if they had lost. Of course, they weren’t going to though because they had kicked ass but nothing was written in stone yet.

“What do you say guys?” Mr. Schue asked his students. “Are we ready to vote?”

“Actually Mr. Schue, I don’t think that’s necessary,” Rachel said, standing up. “We all decided that we want Kurt and Sebastian to sing at Sectionals. Kurt really deserves it and I think that his performance with Sebastian just goes to show that even more.” Everyone nodded their heads in agreement and Sebastian squeezed Kurt’s hand. He was getting his duet!

“I couldn’t agree more Rachel,” Mr. Schue said as he turned back to the two boys. “Well, congratulations you two, you won the duet. Start brainstorming some ideas and we'll talk about it tomorrow. Oh, and try to incorporate some of those moves. That’ll guarantee us a win alone. Well done gentleman.”

“We did it Seb,” Kurt said, hugging him again. “We did it. We’re gonna sing at Sectionals. Oh my god.” Everyone laughed at how excited Kurt was and clapped for the boys again.

“I know, I know,” Sebastian told him. “This is great. You did great. You were amazing babe.”

“I couldn’t have done it without you, Seb” Kurt smiled and they kissed each other before going to sit down in their seats. They would have to do this all over again and they both couldn’t wait.

[wordsablaze]

To Be Held

Emotions can be great but too much of them can also be the exact opposite. Luckily, that doesn't matter if you have someone willing to be there for you the same way Eskel is willing to be there for Jaskier...

A/N: this is definitely not a 2am ventfic, i have no idea what you mean- oh and it’s modern au where eskel works at a bakery :)

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Eskel knows something is wrong when Jaskier doesn't reply to his selfie.

He knows because Jaskier always, always gushes about how cute or how handsome or how sexy he looks when he gives in and decides to indulge in willingly taking as well as sending a picture of himself.

There is a short moment where he thinks this is the one, this is the stupid selfie that convinces Jaskier he's actually not that nice to look at and he's not worth staying with but no, Jaskier would never leave him for something so trivial after all they’ve been through and all they’ve done together, he just wouldn't.

So Eskel doesn't question it at first, assuming that Jaskier had seen it, put his phone down to do something, and promptly forgotten to reply because he'd gotten distracted. But when he checks his phone again later, just after unloading the oven, and there's no reply, he knows something else is the matter.

"Geralt, can you close up and all?" Eskel calls over his shoulder even as he starts pulling on his coat and shoes, concern flooding through his veins.

"Is Jaskier okay?" Geralt asks, his face appearing in the doorframe.

Incredibly glad he'd been blessed with at least one semi-intuitive brother, Eskel shrugs. "I hope so. I'll text you if it's really bad, I promise."

Nodding, Geralt waves him off, catching the keys Eskel throws at him before disappearing to tidy and close up the bakery. Lambert will probably moan at him about having had more work at the end of the day tomorrow but Eskel couldn’t really care less about that in the grand scheme of things - things being making sure Jaskier is okay.

He tries dialling Jaskier's number as he fumbles with the door of his car, swearing softly when he only reaches voicemail and focusing his attention back on driving as fast as possible without getting arrested for being worried about the man he loves. Yes it’d be funny and Jaskier would probably write a song or two about it but it’d still be useless all the same.

He's once again immensely grateful that they'd chosen a flat close to the bakery because every second that passes has him more and more on edge and he’s not sure what he’d have done if the commute was any longer. It doesn't take long to get to their front door once he parks the car, though it does take half a dozen more curses before he actually gets inside.

"Jaskier?" he calls, peering into the living room, the kitchen, the bedroom, the bathroom. When he comes up empty, he frowns. Backtracks. Looks in each room again, pausing in the doorframe to their bedroom when he spots the duvet on the floor just next to the bed.

"Jaskier?" Eskel calls again, a little louder this time.

It's not just the duvet on the floor.

He very briefly chides himself for not realising before and wasting time in checking the rest of their home but then kneels down beside the human-shaped duvet heap, slowly pulling up one corner just enough to see under it.

Jaskier flinches.

"Oh, Jas," Eskel breathes softly.

He's curled up around himself, his legs pulled up to his chest and his arms wrapped tightly around his shins, his head pressed firmly into his knees. He looks so painfully small that Eskel immediately has the urge to hug him. Which he does.

He doesn't say anything else, slipping under the duvet too and placing his arms around Jaskier's shoulders, propping himself up against the bed, waiting not quite patiently but not impatiently either. It takes a little while for Jaskier to even acknowledge his presence, which he does by leaning into him, letting some of his weight rest on Eskel's chest.

"I'm here now," Eskel murmurs, adjusting his position so they don't overbalance.

Jaskier doesn't move again for another few minutes in which Eskel listens to the clock tick on and tries not to feel too guilty that it took him so long to arrive, but then Jaskier lets out a shaky sigh and uncurls his arms from around his legs, turning to instead curl them around Eskel's chest.

"I've got you," Eskel soothes as Jaskier rests his head on his shoulder, both of them now wrapped in each other.

Still mostly silent, Jaskier sniffles and curls his hands into fists around Eskel's shirt, the latter trying very hard not to curse when he realises the sudden dampness he can feel is being caused by tears. He hates it when Jaskier cries, he hates it with every fibre of his being, but there’s not a lot he can do to stop someone from sometimes feeling too much emotion.

"It's all okay," Eskel whispers, lifting one of his hands to gently run it through Jaskier's hair.

He can physically feel the way Jaskier shivers at his touch but he doesn't stop, knowing it's something that helps him return to the present, letting his fingers move across his scalp and occasionally curling little locks of hair into small curls. Eventually, Jaskier stops holding himself so stiffly and relaxes into him with a barely audible "I'm sorry."

It takes only half a second of surprise for Eskel to tighten his arm around Jaskier's shoulders and shake his head even if Jaskier can’t see it. "Please don't be."

“You looked so good in that photo," Jaskier replies instead, but Eskel doesn't particularly want to focus on the compliment when he can hear the strain in Jaskier's tone. Although he does smile at the thought of himself being considered a priority despite everything else.

He hums his agreement because he knows how important it is for Jaskier to feel like he’s gotten his point across. "Thank you. How do you feel?"

Jaskier shrugs and buries his face in Eskel's shirt again. "My phone ran out of battery."

That’s definitely not all there is to it but it’s enough of an explanation as to why he didn’t pick up the call, which is just about enough to lessen the panic in Eskel’s heart. "That's okay, it happens all the time," he says, then adds, "It wasn’t your fault."

"I'm sorry," Jaskier whispers again, and Eskel's heart breaks at the way his shoulders shake with a silenced sob that he clearly wants to hide.

He lets his fingers run through Jaskier's hair again, waiting until the other man exhales softly before leaning down and planting a soft kiss on his forehead. "You don't ever need to apologise, especially not for something like this."

When Jaskier doesn't reply, Eskel shifts the two of them so they're more upright, gently squeezing Jaskier's shoulder with the hand curled around him. "Hey, I love you."

Jaskier's breath hitches.

Just like it does every time Eskel says those words, as if he still somehow hasn’t accepted that they're true and will never stop being true.

"I love you and you don't have to apologise," Eskel repeats, trying to keep his voice as soft as possible instead of letting it fill with the rage of wishing Jaskier could accept his love. He doesn’t blame Jaskier, of course he doesn’t, but it hurts and he's angry all the same.

He's not surprised when silence settles around them again but he is surprised when Jaskier finally breaks it only to quietly say, "You smell like raspberries."

Eskel chuckles. "We were making raspberry-flavoured muffins. It was a bit of a mess to be honest, we should have stuck with our usual blueberry."

"Why did you go with raspberry then?" Jaskier asks, leaning into Eskel's touch as he continues to play with his hair.

"We flipped a coin and figured it couldn't be that bad," Eskel explains, glad that Jaskier feels like talking again even if it's not about what happened. Anything is better than their flat being silent, literally anything.

"Did I interrupt your work?" Jaskier's voice is small again so Eskel wastes no time in shaking his head.

"Of course not!" He replies as he pulls Jaskier closer, kissing his forehead once again. "I left the others to lock up and everything but I finished baking my batch before getting here as fast as I could."

A pause, then: "I love you."

Eskel grins at the sincerity in Jaskier's voice, meeting his eyes as they both pull back just enough to properly look at each other. "I love you too," Eskel assures him.

Jaskier's eyes are red and puffy and it's clear as day that he'd been crying long before Eskel had arrived but they're also bright and shining and the same ones he’d fallen in love with so Eskel cherishes the sight of them anyway.

"Thank you," Jaskier mumbles, melting into Eskel’s arms again, his grip softer this time, less desperate and more comfortable as he settles.

Eskel hums again. "Don't mention it."

He will mention it, obviously. They've done this before and they'll do it again so Eskel knows that Jaskier will inevitably fall asleep soon but then he'll wake up and adorably ramble about how grateful and sorry and lucky he is until Eskel cuts him off with another hug or a kiss because he's not always as good with words but he'll want to show that he's always going to be there for Jaskier no matter what.

But that's all in the future and for the moment, Eskel just pulls Jaskier impossibly closer and holds him tight; sometimes, it's enough just to be held.

-

so yeah,, apologies for the ooc mess and all but i'm tired and i'd like cuddles and this wrote itself so here we are...

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the masterlist for this au if you’re interested :)

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thanks for reading! masterlist | witcher blog: @itsjaskier

[sabineelectricheart]

A Sleepless Night Under the Lone Moon

Summary: Dimitri has trouble sleeping. His wife has a ritual she does not tire attempting.

Rating: T - Suitable for teens, 13 years and older, with some violence, minor coarse language, and minor suggestive adult themes.

Words: 2000

Notes: Yes, I know I’ve done this one before, but two cakes, I suppose? This one is longer, too.

It was just another chilly night just before the New Year. The King of Fódlan and the Archbishop have recently arrived for their season in Garreg Mach, certainly exhausted from their long trip across the Ogma Mountains.

Nevertheless, if one were to pass through the gardens between the two halls that evening, a tall and well-built figure could be seen standing silently on the Star Terrace, looking up to the sky, searching for something that might as well not be there. The full moonlight hit his face, and one could see he was a very handsome long-haired man. He had a few scars on his face and a missing eye, which strangely only made him look even better. However, he carried a weary expression on his face.

King Dimitri, once again, could not sleep.

The Archbishop sensed this. She could sense very clear that he was not there, right beside her in the large bed.

Byleth woke up in the middle of the night, and searched for him with her hands patting his side of the bed. The fact that he was not there did not make her too startled, as it was common occurrence in these years of marriage.

It was one of those things you might not appreciate about your partner, but you learn to live with. Somehow, she had grown used to the fact that he would often have trouble sleeping. Sometimes, he did not even sleep at all. Nevertheless, whenever it came to be, it would shatter her still heart into a billion pieces.

The Tragedy of Duscur was only but a dark chapter of history. The towns were rebuilt, the people have returned and the province prospered. Felix and Ingrid made peace with their loss, and he knew Lambert and Patricia certainly were not all he remembered them to be. The war was won, Edelgard is dead and one would be hard-pressed to find someone who misses her. He had undergone many therapies and seances, and he was beyond happy with the life he built for himself from the wreckage it once was. Yet, Dimitri still hears the voices.

The fires of that night had taken many things from him. The taste of his tongue and the feeling of his hands, to name just a couple, but ever since then he was also rarely able to have good nights of sleep, something he had loathed ever since the attack.

It was difficult for him to exactly pinpoint what he hated so much about it. Perhaps, it was the fact that the sleepless nights reminded him of how he had been marked with this wretched curse, this burden, for eternity. It also stood for the symbol that he would never taste the warm buns of his childhood nor feel the voluptuous curves on his wife’s body. Losing sleep was plainly annoying as well, as it carries his headaches along. Or, maybe, there was a connection with how Byleth would always stay up to keep him company.

That night was not any different.

Alongside the cool breeze that hit his shirtless body, he felt her warm arms wrapping him in a back hug and her cheek being pressed against him. The combination of cool and warm touches caused shivers to go down his spine. He smiled to himself, but guilt soon started to run in his veins.

“Go back to sleep, beloved.” He whispered. “There is certainly much to be done in the morning, and Seteth will not grant you any reprieve.”

“Not without you.” She responded, petulantly.

“You know I will not be able to sleep tonight.” His voice manifested both frustration and firmness, especially because he did not want her to face the morning to come feeling tired over him. “There is nothing either of us can do about it.”

“History tells I have many magnificent feats under my name. I can always try. Tonight might be your lucky night.” The religious leader leaned back, breaking the comforting connection between their skins.

He chuckled. “Every night you spend with me is a lucky night, beloved. I will not begrudge you sleep to test my own fortune.”

In response to his declaration, her ethereally smooth hands travelled to the sides of his body, and gave them a light squeeze, silently asking him to turn around and look at her. His icy blue eyes, a perennial inheritance from Blaiddyd himself, found her mint greens in a matter of seconds, and a grin suddenly took over her lips. She absolutely adored his eyes and, if given permission, she would spend hours getting lost in them.

While looking at his eyes, she saw deep and beautiful oceans, summer skies, and balmy waves. Dimitri made her feel like she was back in the Blue Sea Star.

“Let me take care of you.” Byleth whispered against his skin.

He slowly gave in to her request, and accepted to be taken care of. With her hands guiding him to wherever she went, she did her best to distract his mind off his frustration and insanity for a little while. She talked about the inane requests that littered her desk, the gossip Mercedes and the maids let her know, and the cute baby she would baptize next afternoon.

Just like that, before any of them could realize, the marble clawfoot bathtub that occupied a corner on their bathroom at the monastery was filled with hot water and aromatic salts. Taking baths together was a pivotal element of their ritual for sleepless nights. They would usually spend quite a long time in the water, she would talk about unimportant things and he would laugh carelessly at her purposefully obtuse observations.

At that moment, both of their bodies were submerged in the temporary alleviation the water offered. Despite being taller and more muscular than his wife, Dimitri had his back leaned against her chest, being extremely careful not to hurt her under his inhumane strength.

Her nimble fingers ran across his molten gold long locks, untying the knots that formed since she last brushed it back in Fhirdiad. Afterwards, she pressed her lips gently on his temples, as an act of silent kindness for letting her share on his company.

“Damn, Dima, you’re packing.” Byleth joked as she nestled closer against his front body.

The vibration of his laugh resonated in her chest, and she laughed along with him, feeling relieved over his relaxation.

“Your significant other must be very lucky, huh?” She continues the silly joke, just so he would feel better about himself. “I bet that, having such a fat cock like that, you are a love machine.”

The monarch grinned wolfishly. “I’m a fuck machine.”

She laughed loudly and even snored a little bit, bringing fresh warmth to his heart. After murmuring he was, actually, ridiculous, she decided it was time to leave the bathtub, due to the falling temperature of the water. He was the first one to stand up, and he offered her his hand as a support for she to stand up as well.

In no time, they were dry and their bodies were covered with fine, cool silks, perfect for the Spring climate in Garreg Mach.

As Byleth stared at her own reflection in the mirror, she realized how her husband looked a bit better. He still carried the same weary expression from before, but he did not look as dreadful as when he looked wistfully out to the empty courtyard.

“I wonder what those stuck-up, annoying Adrestian nobles would think if they saw their king like this.” The blond said, as he sits on the four-poster bed.

“Like what?” Byleth sits next to him and lets an arm snake around his shoulder.

“Like a kept man.” He shook his head to himself, but it was crystal clear he was not upset over anything that was happening then.

It was amusing to whomever was privy to their home life how Dimitri held a somewhat intimidating image and a grievous past, but still managed to be so soft and pliant towards his wife, doing as she says as if direct commandment from the Goddess herself. Which it was, on a roundabout way.

As bad as his moods could be these days, deep down, Byleth could not be anything other than wholeheartedly thankful for his behaviours, for him not blocking her out anymore. Although there were long, dreadful Moons soon after the Millennium Festival when he dismissed her cares, when they first reunited, this is only memories of a distant past. Even when he fell to his low points amongst their better years since the end of the war, he would never last for too long without her.

“I will be right back. I asked for Cyril to leave a pitcher, so I am going to prepare ourselves some warm milk.” She stood on her tiptoes and pecked his lips before leaving the room.

She left him with a bright and calm smile on his lips, which, however, soon faded away into a grimace. There was a clear pang of guilt in his chest, of disgrace over his petulant behaviour, but he could not lie and say he was not feeling any better after sharing a bath with his beloved. Her touch was always so gentle and caring, and she did not seem to be bothered by his situation by any means, but still he hears the voices, and still he sleeps not.

How on Earth had he gotten to be so favoured, even after so many bad events that took place in his life? Even with so many sins on his hands? Should he not have to pay for his mistakes? Is it only a matter of time until the other shoe drops?

A few minutes passed by, and she returned to his presence with two mugs, one on each hand. Her placid face assured him everything was alright, and that she got his back no matter what, a promise she made due countless times over the years. She would be by his side even in the middle of the night, after having an exhausting day of travelling through a perilous mountain pass, or with her heart overwhelmed by her own problems, frustrations and feelings.

She would always be by his side because she loved him, and it was nothing short of shameful how little he offered in return for such unwavering devotion.

“There you go, love.” One of her hands gave him a plain white mug with a steaming liquid inside of it.

Another part of her ritual was to end the night with a mug of warm milk with some drops of honey. She had read Saint Timoteos writings, and he noted that honey could help with sleeping problems, and that stuck with her for a long time, to the point they now kept an apiary both in Fhirdiad and in Garreg Mach. His wife had always eagerly grasped at things that could help him somehow.

Her own mug was taken to her lips as she sipped the drink, and her chest felt full of a sympathetic warmth. Dimitri, on the other hand, did not sip his drink and this did not pass unnoticed by Byleth.

When she was about to ask him what was wrong, his voice echoed in the room first. “Come here.”

She stepped closer to him with a puzzled look on her face, but he only dismissed it with a charming wink. His fingers ran along her jawline, and his hand cupped her face right after it. He pulled her closer to him, his lips soon connecting to hers.

After dedicating one or two minutes to a kiss in which she had to focus on both her lips moving in sync, and mugs being balanced in her hands, the Archbishop broke away. Their eyes found each other once more, and she nuzzled her nose up against his.

He rested his forehead on hers, his next words being softly whispered. “You taste like honey.”

*_*_*_*_*

Fire Emblem Masterlist

Three Houses Masterlist

[artemismoon12writes]

Title: Windsor Throws a Party (and Stuart is Technically Invited)

Daltonfic Big Bang; Week 4, Day 2; Spin the Bottle/Truth or Dare 

“That’s the spirit! The rest of you should take notes.” “It’s educational.” “Isn’t that what we’re in school for?” “The youth of tomorrow, learning tolerance one day at a time.”

The party might have gotten out of control. Perhaps. A smidge.

If you asked the twins, they had invited everyone on campus. There would be no one to drag them into Dean Ramsey’s office this year. If Logan wanted to complain about it, he could simply check his email for the invitation which came 2 minutes after they’d started up the music anyways. If he didn’t check his email, who were they to insist he came?

Besides that, they had made sure through word of mouth that some Stuarts did represent amongst the Windsor common room- if only to be used as a shield against the authorities at large. Ethan and Evan’s ‘secret stash’ was snuck throughout the house, and like fairy food, once you unknowingly partook you could not leave and work against them.

Kurt thought it was evil. Shane thought it was brilliant. But then again, Kurt hadn’t approved of much they did these days, working as the implementor of much of Blaine’s beleaguering prefect work. It didn’t mean he was going to shut down this party- rather, try to keep the freshman away from the “powdered sugar” on top of the doughnuts in the kitchen.

“Who invited Dobry?” A voice called from the top of the stairs, noticing the girls trickling into the common room.

“Not me!” Wes answered, trying to look innocent. “I’m not trying to get us in trouble after Katherine and the BBQ incident.”

“Don’t worry, Wes, we’ll vouch for you when campus security comes to kick us out.” Katherine said, kissing his cheek and crossing the room to join David on the makeshift dance floor.

It was a Dalton party. You couldn’t keep the freshman out anymore than you could keep the Dobry girls out it seemed. Lucy Westwood gave the cameras around the common room a good natured gesture, rude though it may be to her reclusive brother who refused to join them. Clay and Kaelan, their newest recruits into Windsor madness thought it was hilarious.

“You’re not scared he’ll do something to your Facebook?” Clay asked, buzzing despite Kurt steering him away from any of the Twins’ snacks.

Lucy looked at the freshman like he was nuts, “With all the blackmail I have on my brother dear, I don’t think so.”

“Wow, you’re so cool.” Clay said, wide-eyed as she flounced off in her four-inch pastel Mary-Janes. Kaelan knocked his shoulder to get him to pay attention to the Hanovers who were challenging them to table tennis with baseballs.

Across the room, a corner had already grown, with the twins in charge of the madness pulling people in as they tried to pass to go to the bathroom. You would not be released until you spun the bottle of Armagnac (emptied for this purpose).

“This is stupid.” Blaine said, roped into the circle of half-sober and mostly-high students.

“Oh stop being a wet blanket Anderson.” Adriana, one half of the warped mirror image Dobry had of the Brightmans, insisted. “Either spin, or go in a plant.”

“I am not going to the bathroom in the ferns…” Blaine said, horrified.

His boyfriend snorted, already captured into the circle. “I don’t know Blaine, these guys can’t take care of the ferns anyways.”

“We got Mom on board! Yeah!” Clay was hushed up again by Sara Tomlin, covering his mouth like she’d practiced it on her own freshman.

Blaine, reluctantly was forced to sit through the turns of Jeff and Lucy, tiny Regina Warburton and Brennan, and the catcalls of Derek Seigerson’s ex-girlfriend making a point to kiss Sadie Moore far longer than necessary.

“Wow, Casey, didn’t pick you for the other team.” Jackie said, nudging the Prima with her foot.

“Wouldn’t you like to know? It’s just a game. Duh.” Casey tossed her hair over her shoulder, winking at Sadie from across the circle. “How can I refuse an audience?”

“That’s the spirit Lambert!” Ethan and Evan chorused. “The rest of you should take notes.”

“It’s educational.”

“Isn’t that what we’re in school for?”

“The youth of tomorrow, learning tolerance one day at a time.” Ethan sighed, leaning against his brother’s shoulder dramatically, waving his hand at the circle.

Blaine rolled his eyes; trying to ignore Kurt and Reed’s laughter, or Shane’s giant smile at him.

Sebastian Smythe, there on the insistence of the Twins for the amount of chaos he’d already been causing in Stuart, passed by the circle with a bottle he dropped into Thad’s lap. “You guys are so boring. At least make it a drinking game.”

“If we’re so boring, why don’t you join?” Blaine accused.

Sebastian scoffed, “I already did my part. Ask your little scientist.”

Satoru blushed from across the circle, sitting next to Drew who just laughed. Thad took a fortifying swig from the bottle Sebastian had left them. He looked to be praying he’d get a girl; but the twins could be known to play tricks at parties like this.

“It was a good spin.” Neil confirmed, getting a shove from Satoru; who didn’t need reminding why his knees were tucked up to his chin.

“I bid you all a due.” Sebastian teased, with that faux-french accent of his lingering in their ears.  

“Come back, it’s more fun with you in.” Alessio called, already a little more than drunk and finished with his own spin. Mika’d let him off easy when he started to try and pet her hair during the kiss.

“Let it go.”

It was Shane’s turn next, landing on Adriana Brightman. He frowned for a moment. “I can re-spin right?”

“Of course you c-” Blaine started before the chorus of “NO!”s made him jump. He looked around, shocked to see even Reed insisting on no re-spins. Reed?

“It’s unfair! You don’t get to pick! You spin, you kiss!” Casey insisted.

“Kiss! Kiss!” Nadia tried to get them to chant before collapsing into giggles against Alexandra’s shoulder.

“Coward!” Andriana challenged, hands on her hips. “I betcha can’t!”

Shane frowned. “I can!”

Reed giggled and pushed his boyfriend forward, “Do it!”  

“Peer pressure, it works.” Evan commented, leaning forward with a devilish grin.

“They’re all so awful, I’m so proud.” Ethan continued.

Blaine glared, “Shut up you two, if he doesn’t want to-”

He didn’t get to finish because Reed and Andrea’s cheers cut him off. Shane broke away from Adriana, quickly enough some called foul, but he sat back on his feet and nodded proudly. “I’m no chicken!”

“There wasn’t even tongue!” Adriana complained.

“That’s optional.” Jackie shrugged. “Take it or leave it Brightman.”

“I am the greatest at this game!” Shane cheered; Reed patted his knee. “Yeah you are.”

Blaine would wonder why Reed was so supportive of this, until he saw the brownie crumbs littering the carpet around his brother and Reed. Ah, that’s what happened to Medel’s extra tray of brownies. Alright…

Next Neil O’Connor landed on Laura Bancroft, who took her kiss with the right amount of blustering embarrassment and confused elation- and then took Sadie out of the circle as they’d fulfilled their party duty. Dwight tried to escape the circle with them but was pulled back to Shane’s other side with a grunt. An attempt at good grace was made, failing when Laura could not clamber over the cross-legged group in a skirt without being a little awkward. Reed waved the two goodbye as they went to go bother Merril who had been avoiding that side of the room entirely.

“Can we get more Armagnac? Is that allowed?” Jackie asked.

“I’ll get some,” Blaine said about to get up before he was pulled back down.

“No way, you haven’t spun yet!” Ethan insisted.

“Fine! Then let me spin and leave!” Blaine insisted.

“Oh prefect, my prefect” Evan taunted. “It’s not nearly that easy!”

“He’s bringing the game down,” Andrea complained. “Let him spin and go.”

Blaine coloured, his cheeks heating up. “Uh-”

The chorus matched, and the bottle was passed to Blaine who twisted his wrist and prayed it didn’t land on Shane, or Reed, or-”

“Oliver?” Danny Abbot said, recently pulled into the circle.

“Wait, get the child out of here!”

“Who let Oliver sit here?”

Tiny Oliver Snow was promptly ejected from the circle; which they’d all been too out of it to notice he’d been in beforehand.  

Drew shook his head, “God, I can’t believe Blaine was going to kiss the kid!”

“I was not going to kiss Oliver!”

“I guess you can have a resp-respe- new spin! That’s it- have one of those now.” Casey said, mocking in good fun, tips

The bottle spun again, this time to land on someone probably worse than Reed, but not as bad as Shane.

“Okay Anderson, you know half the girls in Dobry would kill to have your chance.” Casey laughed as Sara moved out of her spot to the centre of the circle.

“I’m gay!” Blaine insisted.

“And you spun in a co-ed circle.” Sara said, a hand’s length away from his face. The catcalls mostly came from Shane, who was redirecting his own chicken taunts (helped in part by Reed). She smiled and Blaine closed his eyes tight; just to feel a cool kiss at the corner of his mouth.

He stopped cringing, but the rest of the circle booed. Sara shrugged their complaints off, “I’m not awful guys. Give Anderson a break.”

“You wasted a kiss with Sara Tomlin, I’m straight and I’d jump on that chance!” Jackie said, kicking her feet out.

“Sure you’re straight Blake.” The Double As accused to Jackie’s middle finger.

“Can I leave now?” Blaine asked, getting up.

Kurt took the bottle next, “I don’t know, maybe you want to stay for this one?”

Blaine flushed, ah yes maybe. Reed nudged his roommate as Blaine watched his boyfriend spin the bottle. Ethan and Evan looked excited until it, disappointingly for the rest of the group, landed on Blaine.

Kurt smiled, “There we go. I’ll take my kiss to go if you guys don’t mind.”

“Cheater!” Shane booed, without much feeling behind it. Sara and some of the Hanover boys laughed. Blaine found himself pulled away from the circle gratefully, tugged towards the wall to get a kiss he’d much prefer.

Blaine’s dissent aside, the game continued into chaos. Drew landed on Sara, earning more scorn from the girls in the group; but enough of a show, to let him be safe from too much booing. Alexandra got Ophelia, who immediately slipped her tongue into Alexandra’s mouth with her valley girl courage, leaving Alexandra flushed and quieter than usual- though behind her hand they could spot a shy smile forming.

Hoots and hollers continued when Ethan and Evan took the full bottle, newly delivered by Todd (who was then ordered to join the group) and spun it as a pair.

“We’ll get it finished off in no time.” Evan insisted, as it pointed square towards Thad who started sputtering excuses about the pair of them spinning being unfair. The catcalls overwhelmingly did not let him get out of the kiss. Ethan opened the bottle, passing it to his brother as the group convinced Thad to not run away.

“Come on Thad, would you rather them land on you twice?” Todd laughed, “I know what you write in the-”

“What happens in Midnight Writers, stays in Midnight Writers dammit Todd!” Thad yelled back, wobbling as he got up on his knees to stab a finger in Todd’s direction. Maybe he’d had too much of Sebastian’s vodka. Maybe not.

Casey pushed him back up into the centre of the circle. “Come on, you’re not dating them. It’s a little kiss.”

“Just a peck!” Shane called.

“Nothing but a smooch.” Reed giggled into his boyfriend’s shoulder, who was truly feeling the brownies now.

“You guys all suck.” Thad accused, getting in front of the twins with determination flagging as they looked at him like appraising a new conquest. “Uh, just a kiss.”

“Your virtue is safe with us,” Ethan assured him, sounding less trustworthy by the second.

“Unless you ask otherwise.” Evan finished; drawing more catcalls.

“Uh, well…” Thad closed his eyes and leaned forward, scrunching his face as Ethan just pulled him forward into his lap, shocking any refusal out of him. He would have pulled away and complained, until he felt a hand around the back of his neck and Ethan moved. By the time Evan pulled him over, he’d made the most embarrassing groan and was red as a tomato.

“That means nothing.” Thad said quickly; unconsciously biting his lip.

The Brightmans laughed. “Sure. Sure it did.”

If Thad then took a pillow to hug, distracted for the rest of the game, it was no one’s business but his own he insisted. The vodka was finished quickly after that.

With Ethan and Evan’s turn complete, it was Allison’s turn. It was obvious to anyone she wanted it to land on one of the girls, her words supporting the boys but every single kiss she’d watched with open-mouthed want happening between the girls. She’d been speechless when Jackie’s first round had landed on Laura, and she’d kissed her senseless.

The bottle landed on Reed; Allison’s mouth twisted downwards, disappointed. Reed didn’t look so upset as she did, his boyfriend giggling and encouraging him like they’d done earlier.

“Why do we keep making the gay guys kiss girls?” Andrea complained. “It’s not fun.”

“Who said I’m gay?” Reed cut in, boldly as Allison blushed. The Dalton boys cheered him on, including his own boyfriend.

Allision pouted, she hadn’t wanted Van Kamp, she’d wanted Satoru, or Danny Abbot, she insisted to herself. But she couldn’t look like a chicken, planting herself in front of Reed determined.

Reed looked at her kindly. “I could do what Sara did for Blaine-”

She frowned at the older boy, talking under her breath. “That wouldn’t be fair.”

“It’s just a game-”

“Well I’m not gay like him, so I’m not chickening out.” She said sharply, keeping it quiet between the haze of his curls and her long hair falling in her face.

“Okay.” Reed said, unsure, leaning up to the taller girl to kiss her.

He tasted like brownies, and she was startled at how soft his mouth was. Fingers with band-aids on each one settled on her shoulders as they both swayed. It made sense; the twins wouldn’t let you walk away from one of their parties if you could just as easily crash on the floor because you’d gone so off the edge. She nipped at his lower lip, in a game that usually had boys wanting more; but felt rather empty as he pulled away from her with a simply smile, lingering no more than the cheering around them demanded. It was weird, she felt so detached for a moment.

“You’re a good kisser.” He said to her.

She frowned deeper. “Whatever.”

Sitting back, Allison passed the bottle over to Danny- who had been her actual choice, and she hoped he’d hand on her.

He didn’t in fact; Danny’s spin finding Todd across the circle, to Todd’s own quiet snort.

“Come on Danny boy, let’s see what Wes is missing out on.” Todd beckoned.  

“Hey!” Wes said, hearing his name from the bathroom door. Danny tried not to look at him as he was pulled in for a long kiss.

“I knew it’d be fluffy.” Todd said, ruffling Danny’s hair, pushing him back to his side of the circle.

“You’re as bad from the as Alessio.” Mika said, barely heard over the music; though she said it with good humour, rebraiding her hair before more drunk students decided it held the secret of life and messed it up again.

“What? Its not a crime to appreciate the finer things in life.” Todd joked, one leg out and smiling.

“You’re certainly much less shy about it than last time there was a Windsor party.” Dwight pointed out, supporting Mika.

Todd grinned at his roommate. “Life is too short to not ruffle people’s hair. Unstuff your shirt Dwight, if they’re not a demon I say they’re free game.”

Dwight opened his mouth to argue but was cut off by the twins cheering on Andrea and Marcus Holland- who’d shown up despite his own misgivings about his former house. Another two left the circle, another few joined.

Casey spun again and landed on the twins, who had a much more eager- if less vocal- partner this time. Jeff’s second spin got Shane, who was an enthusiastic partner.

Jackie then took over, the bottle finished off again; it was her third spin of the game, as she’d been having too much fun to leave the circle. She’d been hoping for another Dobry girl, or at least one of her friends from the Motorbike bros, so at least she could have one she could go overboard and funny with. Todd would go along with it, even if Sadie’d already left the circle.

One person off wasn’t bad she supposed. “Okay Houston, pucker up.”

Todd laughed at his roommate, who looked ready to scramble up the walls. “She won’t bite.”

“I object to the moral grounding of this game!”

“Yeah, yeah, just don’t disappoint me.”

Dwight blushed, “Hey!”

She bit her lip, crawling across the carpet with wicked humour in her eyes. “It’s only a kiss.”

“HOW COULD IT END UP LIKE THIS?” Shane yelled, rather than sang from beside them.

The circle burst into an impromptu sing-a-long, covering up the small squeak Dwight made when Jackie kissed him, softer than she would have liked, but the confused smile on his face was worth it. She punched his shoulder gently, “Told you it’d be fine.”

“No wonder you hang out with Sadie, you’re scary just like her.” Dwight said, using the sing-a-long to get up and scuttle around the circle to escape.

“Do I kiss like her?” She asked amused.

Dwight went a plum red, “I- what- NO!”

“Oh, so she’s better than me?”

“I have never- she’s my fr- AH!” Dwight threw up his hands and hurried into the other side of the room like he was being chased.

Todd snorted besides Dwight’s vacated seat. The circle was falling apart; around them various Primas, Royals, Hanovers, Windsors, and a couple of Stuarts ended up pairing off, singing or sharing drinks, or just starting up a contest of trying to climb the stairs without using their arms or legs (of which Thad was surprisingly winning).

Jackie nudged his shoulder, shoving Todd against the bookshelf to make room. “Is he always like this?”

“Most of the time.” Todd said, loudly enough she could hear him. “I’m surprised he didn’t throw salt at everyone a round earlier. He might have if he’d gotten the twins and not Kurt on his turn.”

“God, how can you live with him?” Jackie asked. “I’d go nuts.”

“He’s a good guy.” Todd assured her. “Besides, you’re worse than he could ever be. You jumped a car in the Denny’s parking lot last time we went out. I should be asking your roommates the same question.”

“I’m a special brand of weird.” Jackie insisted, sticking her tongue out at him. He pinched it- her screeching in response sending him into laughter. “You’re awful!”

“You love me Jackie, come on.” Todd teased, tapping the abandoned bottle at her.

“Hey, you landed on me, you know what that means.” She said, taking the bottle out of his hand. “No take backs.”

“I didn’t spin it.”

Jackie turned it around once clumsily and then pointed it back at herself. “There. I win.”

He rolled his eyes, but she got her wish anyways; pulling him down against her mouth with a smile, twisting her tongue against his as the party raged around them. She felt his hand in her hair, pulling at the thick strands. She’d have to make fun of him for that later. She braced against the bookshelf, swinging a knee over him to get closer to him.  

“We should get some water. Just… cause.” Todd panted, unable to move back, wedged against the bookshelf the way they were. His glasses were askew, but the warm flush to his face made it look infinitely less dorky.

“Is there water in your room?” She asked, grinning into another kiss.

“Jackie…”

“Is there?”

“…yes.”

“Well then let’s go.”

The party continued long into the night. Some disappeared upstairs; others just fell asleep on the common room floor. Lucy was found curled up under the sink after winning an impromptu game of hide-and-seek which had ended 3 hours prior.

Han only flicked through his view screens; looking for campus security by the time 5am rolled around and he had to sound the alarm to disperse. No one thanked him for it; but when did they ever?

The twins called it one of their best parties ever.

Logan Wright called it an affront to good taste.

Julian Larson was just mad his invitation had been sent via carrier pigeon- because he really wanted to come.

---

Note: Everyone except my OC Ophelia is a canon “Season 2″ character.  I am not tagging every single character in this, by god that is far too many for an ensemble fic. I also give up because there would be too many potential ship tags. 

[bohemiansweede]

NYE

Fanfic

Pairing Roger Taylor Brian May Maylor

Warnings Smut 🔞

A /N Rogers POV, Please like and reblog or if you want leave a comment

🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇

When your third shot of whiskey burned down your throat, it was time to go on stage

It was NYE 2014, Queen & Adam Lambert had a special arranged concert in London

Earlier that evening you were all on a big buffet dinner, Brian and Anitha had a huge argument, she accused him for being too flirty with women.. As always

He looked good tonight..

Well.. He always looked good, a black shirt on which he of course left a few buttons open.. that tease..

He didn't really left much for your imagination you scoffed

- You ready Rog?

Brian wrapped his long arm around your shoulders

- Yeah.. Yeah I am ready...

- How much have you been drinking mate?

-... A few... Your eyes trailed over him.. and sighed.. That tall beautiful creature..

You had pretty recently divorced and bought yourself a big flat in central London..

Of course he was worried that you had a depression now, but you were faar from it... In fact it was loooong time ago since you could see things so clear

- Dad... You look good... Where is your Santa hat?

Your son Rufus bounced up at your side

- Ahh.. I am wearing it later... maybe

You had a little gathering, you all pepped and hugged each other before entering the stage, Adam was pumped as always.. Spikey gaved a sign that it was time

This was no stadium, no arena, it was a smaller place, more intimate

Some people might see it as negative to be sitting in the back of the stage hiding behind the drums.. But you enjoyed every minute.. You had full few.. over everything and everyone

You could not stop look at Brian, you sometimes even forgot your key to start playing

He turned around and smiled at you, after all these years he knew what distracted you.. Usually a pretty girl in front of the stage (his words)

His fluffy grey curls bounced around his head when he walked across the stage and long slender legs carried him up..

Not much had changed on him since 68..not your feelings either

Song after song echoed out and now it was not long until New Year 2015

Everyone took a break to go behind the stage and celebrate, bubbly champagne filled all the glasses

- Bri.. Can I talk to you for a second..

- Sure thing mate.. What's up?

Your throat suddenly felt thick and you felt your neck get sticky of sweat

He stood in front of you and his big hair made him look even taller

- I...

- Are you guys coming.. It is soon time Adam chirped

Fuck.. There was so much you wanted to say.. So much you wanted to do

- I.. am just so happy to have you in my life Brian..

- Awww mate... I am happy to have you too, you know that.. Was that what this were all about huh..

Mate.. That was all you were.. All you ever would be.. Nothing more..

- C'mon Rog.. It is soon time, he caressed your back, turned around and left you 

You held up your glass and clinked it together with the others

You glanced over to him he nodded at you, holding up his glass

HAPPY NEW YEAR!!!!!

- For 2015!!! And.. for Freddie!!!

If Freddie was here he would probably laugh at you for being so pathetic and say that you should get ur shit together

You entered the stage yet again for playing the last songs

When it all was finished, you just wanted to leave

- Rog... Wait... I...

Brian chased after you.. What was the point to stay now really..

- I didn't think you were leaving this early

- Well.. I wasn't... It...

He cupped your face in his big hands and placed a soft kiss on your lips

- Dad?

In the corner of your eye you spotted your son standing in the doorway scratching his head with his drumsticks

- Fuckin finally!!!! Adam clapped his hands

- Come on Roger.. Let's go

You went out in the chilly night and while fireworks blasted all over the sky you jumped into the car

It was all silent.. Not much had to be said

He trailed after your hand and the whole ride home you lingered your fingers together

The taxidriver could not take his eyes from you in the mirror, when you got to your apartment, you paid him.. you thought that maybe you should've paid him extra for his silence

You took Brians hand again inside the elevator, the whole air was trembling of tension

The door closed behind you

- I love you Brian

You shrugged your shoulders and almost felt tears building up in your eyes

He took you in his arms and held you so tight that you didn't know who's heartbeat you heard

You could not stop shaking

Sometimes you were like this after a gig, overexcited and full of adrenaline, but this was something else, something else entirely..

There was no turning back now.. Placing soft kisses along his neck you heard him moan

- Ohh God Rog.. I love you so so much

Your lips krashed together, tounges were wrestling and you kissed like you had hungered for this your whole life... and maybe you had

Still kissing eachother you started to fibble with the rest of the buttons on his shirt

It was dark in your whole apartment, the only light was from the skyline and fireworks, the flashing colours maked his skin look like pure art

- Take me to your bedroom Rog..

You didn't hesitate

Grabbing his wrist you stumbled through the hall, giggled like two kids scared to get caught

- M.. my son saw us... And... Adam

- Don't worry about it now.. We did not do anything wrong right..

Right

You kneeled in front of him and unwrapped his trousers like he was a gift

He helped your desperate clumpsy fingers

You wrapped your hand around his hard length and kissed it, your tounge ran up and down his shaft before finally taking him in your watering mouth

- Shit Rog.. Fuck...

You moaned and looked up at him, he had his fuckface on.. The one you've seen so many times on stage wondering if he looked like that when you taking him.. and he did

You started to suck him harder and faster it felt amazing to have him totally helpless in your grasp

- R.. Rrrrog.. Fuck.. Stop... I am coming..

- Come.. Please just come, you panted, muffled against him...

- Nn.. no.. no.. I want to come.. Shit... inside you

Letting his cock go with a soft pop you wiped your mouth with the back of your hand

Smiling a devilish smile at him you crawled up in the bed

He was fast behind

Gripping your jeans and pulled them down your legs

His upper body landed on you and he kissed you again, the kiss was more passionate yet sloppy, you took a grip around his neck and lingered your fingers in his curls

- Take me Brian... Pl.. Please...

You turned over and on shakin legs you managed to stand on all four

- I.. don.. don't have any... shit...

- It's fine.. I trust you.. And.. I cannot get pregnant either..

He laughed nervously

Kissed a trail of kisses along your back down to your ass, there he licked around your entrance before he wettened his finger and slowly pushing it in, bit by bit

Gasping for air you throwed your head back and almost screamed

He stopped in motion

- No... No shit... continue... Bri please.. fuck

He did.. He pushed even further in..

With his long slender skilled fingers he stretched your tight hole out

- You have checked out my fingers before haven't you..

His hot laughing breath on your ass maked you whimper of pleasure

You pouted your ass more up towards him

Slowly slowly he pushed in his cock in you tight body

- You OK Rog?

- Yes.. Shit.. Yes... Fuck

Your bedroom was soon filled with loud grunts, high moans, soft whimpers almost pornographic.. sounds from skin slapping against skin

He took your leaking cock in his hand and pumped you fast, totally helpless you tried to grip the bed sheet to hold on to something

You felt drops of his sweat on your back, holding your hips in a firm grip he trusted harder and harder rubbing your prostate with every snap of his hips

Both your orgasms were closing in and soon you could not hold it any longer

He was suddenly a trembling mess and emptied himself inside you, he continued to stroke you in even faster rhythm and soon you spilled out your cum with a loud scream

He kissed your neck and rushed out in the bathroom grabbed a towel and came soon back to you

He laid down on the bed and just breathed, you scooted closer placing your head on his chest and he wrapped his arm around you

The warm big heart inside there pounded hard and fast..

Neither of you noticed the silence outside

It was a new year now..

A new beginning

🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇🎇

My other NYE fic

Enjoy more reading in my masterlist

[queenmaracasandlove]

At Last - Ben Hardy x Reader

Word Count: +2300

Summary: Ben has a surprise for Y/N as they’re going to a Queen + Adam Lambert concert... a proposal

Warning: just fluff really, (although mention of the fact that Y/N’s mom is dead)

A/N: I know it’s just super duper cliché but here you go... Hope you like it

MASTERLIST

Permanent Taglist: @reedusteinrambles

You could not believe what was about to happen, the dream of a lifetime was finally becoming true. You were going to see Queen live for the first time and just thinking about it made your tear up. You had a very special relationship with the rock band. You had grew up with them, your mom always playing it and singing the words to you when you were a child. For the biggest part of your life Queen was directly linked to your mother, especially now that she was not on this earth with you anymore. You remembered how reserved she was but how excited she became as soon as one of their songs was playing. You had never been able to see them on stage with her but you were going to do it today with the person that the most important in your life now.

Queen was linked with something else in your life and it was Ben Jones or Ben Hardy as he was called in the public life. It had been like in a fairytale. You were working at the Sainsbury’s next to where he lived. You knew who he was because of EastEnders but never dared to say anything. It was only a part time job and you needed to keep it to go on. He was always very polite although you could see that he was becoming sadder with time. He often came at your cashier to buy cigarettes, sometimes with a bottle of alcohol. It was not any of your business but he looked really alone even if he was with an adorable dog that you learnt was called Frankie, he seemed completely lost.

At that time your friends had convinced you to go on dating apps because they could not hear you complaining about your non-existent love life any longer. So you did create an account, spent a lot of time swipping but were always too shy to talk, wondering why you were here when everybody wanted to hook up and you needed someone to cuddle with (and maybe something more also...). Until that night when you saw Ben’s face appearing on your screen. You thought it was a joke, that someone was pretending to be him but without thinking about it you swipped right. You had cursed loudly when you saw that it was a match. You were petrified and only a few minutes later he was sending you the first message “Hello Y/N, not working tonight?”. He knew who you were and that made you go crazy.

“Are you excited love?” he asked, squeezing your hand at the back of the taxi, stopping you from dwelling on the past

“I think I’m gonna pass out” you replied

“It’s gonna be fine you know”

“Excuse me!?” you turned back to him “I’m going to meet the men I’ve been worshiping all my life and you’re saying it’s going to be fine?”

“I’m starting to be jealous” he laughed

“You should be. Now that I’m gonna put my hands on the real Roger Taylor I don’t need the substitute anymore”

You stuck your tongue out before kissing his nose. He loved how you could be so childish sometimes compared to your usual seriousness. In fact he loved everything about you. He grabbed your neck to put a kiss on your lips. Just as it was getting more intense your felt the taxi stopping and your heart started beating like mad. During the kiss you could feel that he was tensed, his jaw completely contracted.

“Are you alright you asked?”

“Yes of course. Guess I’m a little nervous too” he simply said

The concert was not about to start for at least three hours but Ben had told you that you were going to meet the band before the show. You had met him after Bohemian Rhapsody and in fact it was one of the things that had brought you closer, even if it wasn’t in the best of ways. After filming, promoting the movie and the ceremony season everything had calmed down all of a sudden and Ben had became a mess. It was part of the deal, there was to be an end everytime, it was just a difficult time between two shootings but this was different. Bohemian Rhapsody had been so special, he had felt so close to his fellow cast members, so into his role and the rush had been so high. He did not know if he could ever feel something like that again. Slowly he had started confessing to you and without realising it, you had helped him. You had listened to everything he had to say, understood his doubts, sympathised with his pain and at the time he had wanted to know about you too. He was inspired by your determination, touched by your kindness and eventually completely in love with you.

“Let’s do this love. I’m so excited” he told you

“I think I’m going to die”

You had no idea that he was as stressed out as you were, even more. His hand was somehow sweaty in yours but you did not even noticed. You followed him as you arrived in front of the back entrance, the VIP access. You were not used to that kind of thing. Even though it had been more than two years that you were dating you were not a big fan of the star system. But he made sure you were always comfortable, you were his way to stay down to earth but he was happy he could spoil you from time to time.

Soon after you had started talking, Ben and you had gone on your first date and the story had begun. He was as good to you as you were to him. You fell in love with his kindness, his talent and his eyes and so did he. You did not mind him being famous as long as he did not mind you staying in London, finishing your PhD. He was impressed by how passionate you were by your studies and how disinterested you were by his fame. And that worked out perfectly. You eventually moved in together. Of course there were moments of doubts, little fights but nothing stronger than the love you had for each other.

You had just entered the building when you heard some music playing, they were probably sound checking. You left out a little scream because of how excited you were. Ben laughed and looked at you, lovingly.

“I need to go to the bathroom. Could you wait for me here?” he asked

“Really Ben. We’re so close to meet Queen and you need to go for a wee?”

“I’m sorry I won’t be long”

You rolled your eyes as he went to the bathroom. You noticed how tensed he looked but thought that maybe it was because he had not seen Roger Taylor and Brian May for such a long time. He had also told you he was working on something special but without giving you much detail. You hadn’t ask many questions because you knew he didn’t like to talk about projects before anything was signed. You had never met Roger and Brian even though you he had told you everything he could about them, so much so that you felt like they were part of the family, at least his. You knew it was important for him to introduce you to them and that made it even more important to you. Suddenly the music stopped and you sighed, you would have loved to see them alone on the stage with the place completely empty. As you were started to worry you saw Ben coming back to you.

“Are you ready?”

“Nope, never will be. And you?” you asked, suddenly feeling stupid

“Never been so ready in my life”

You were confused but didn’t say anything as he led you through the venue, as if he already knew the place. You could feel your heart ready to burst inside your chest as you were getting closer. You were not going backstage but in front of the stage. You started tearing up when you saw them, Roger Taylor and Brian May on that platform, with Adam Lambert next to them. Of course you were a little sad that Freddie and John were not here but that was already so amazing you could not believe it was real.

Ben looked at you, he could see how your eyes were shinning and he could not stop smiling. His heart was about to burst out of his chest. He had been planning for so long and was so grateful everyone had helped him to make it possible.

“Good evening Y/N” Adam said as he was sitting in front of the piano, the two other musicians also taking their instruments

“What the fuck is going on? How does he know my name?” you asked, not sure how you were able to utter anything

“Shush” Ben said, winking at you

Was it another surprise? Ben loved to surprise you and you loved it. He was such a romantic lad and you were 100% into it. You were never able to return the favour because you were awfully bad at keeping secrets but you always had your own way to thank him. 

Suddenly you heard the first few notes and you gasped. It was your song. Not only your favourite one but also your mom’s favourite, Somebody To Love. You were hypnotised, completely lost into the song. It made you feel like you could fly. That was without a doubt one of the best moment of your life. They were playing for you, at least that was how it felt. 

It was crazy, you could remember how much this song had followed you through your life. You could still see your mom and yourself singing it at the top of your lungs in the kitchen, baking something on a Sunday. How you cried listening to it as a teenager when she was gone and you felt as if nobody would ever be in love with you. When Ben had told you it was his favourite Queen’s song and that it was the exact moment you had fell in love with him for good, and now this. 

You never wanted this moment to end but it did. You were not even able to applaud, you were too stunned.  You had cried a little and closed your eyes for a second, trying to capture the moment forever in your memory. When you opened your eyes again, the stage was empty and you panicked, you turned to Ben, trying to come back down to earth but you did not see him, until you looked down.

“OH MY FUCKING…!” you screamed

He was down on one knee. Benjamin Jones was looking right into your soul with his perfect eyes and you were pretty sure he was about to propose. Once again you started to cry, it was just the two of you now. 

“Y/N I…” He was very emotional too, struggling to utter the words he had said in his head so many time, “I love you. I love you more than anything in the world. You are the best thing that ever happened to me. You met me when I was at my worst and you’ve helped me becoming the best version of myself. I know… I know you’re going to think it’s too soon because you always overthink. You’re the thinker and I’m just, I’m just the guy who fell madly in love with the greatest human being. You’re not perfect but neither am I but we’re never better than when we’re together right?”

He wasn’t really expecting an answer but you started nodding your head like crazy, agreeing to every word that he had just said. He was so right everything, he knew you so well, even your scars and your secrets he understood without having to hear the stories behind them. He was was your confident, he made you laugh, he made you made, he made you feel alive. 

“I don’t know what the future will bring and to be honest I don’t care as long as you’re right next to me. I want to spend the rest of my life with you Y/N. Would you… would make me the happiest man on earth and marry me?”

“Yes. Oh dear. Of course. Yes”

And without any warning you jumped into his arms making the both of you fall on the ground as he was trying to get up and catch you at the same time. You needed to touch him, because you were not complete without him. 

“I love you. I love you so much Ben and I want to spend the rest of my life with you. There is nothing in the world I want more than that.”

You kissed him, a kiss full of love and of tears also but they were happy tears. Once again he had made this moment so perfect. You understood why he was looking so tensed earlier and you realised how he had carefully planned tonight. He knew what that song meant to you, somehow he made sure that your mom was part of this big step in your life and that was only one more reason why you were so sure about saying yes. You got up and he kissed you again, happier than ever.

“Shall we go, I can’t wait to introduce the person I’m going to marry to Roger and Brian. We probably also have to thank them”

“I’m just you wanted to get engaged before I met Roger because you were afraid I would elope with him. But I’m sorry Benny, I haven’t signed anything yet”

“I love you Y/N” he simply answered, still amazed you said yes

“I love you too”

[bamby0304]

Her Saviours- Ch.8

Series Masterlist

Summary: During an odd case, the Winchesters came across Y/N, a scared young Omega girl who had been used as a lure for a nest of vampires. After rescuing her from the monsters, John and his sons took her in knowing she was in no state to live among ordinary people. But three Alphas and one Omega is a mixture bound for disaster.

A/N: This is unbeta’d, ‘cause I legit just finished it and kinda wanted to just post it quickly so I could move on and start writing more...

Warnings: Explicit language. ABO dynamics. Angst.

Bamby

You were fast asleep, curled into Dean’s side with his arm around you as he laid down flat on his stomach. He twitched, pulling you closer as his other hand snuck under his pillow to grab the knife hidden underneath. You barely had a chance to register the fact someone else was in the room, before Dean suddenly rolled over and held you behind his back as he turned to the intruder.

His body relaxed in an instant the second he spotted Sam standing there, with a tray of coffees and a paper bag you assumed was full of food.

“Morning, sunshine.” Sam grinned knowingly at Dean, who still had you behind him.

Rubbing at his eyes, Dean groaned, “What time is it?”

“Uh, it's about five forty-five.”

“In the morning?”

“Yep.”

You whined, rolling back over to try and get some sleep.

“Where does the day go?” Dean grumbled as he dragged himself to the edge of the bed. “Did you get any sleep last night?” he asked, his words directed at Sam.

“Yeah, I grabbed a couple hours.”

Bullshit.

“Liar,” Dean called him out. “'Cause I was up at three, and you were watching a George Foreman infomercial.”

“Hey, what can I say?” Sam shrugged. “It's riveting TV.”

“When was the last time you got a good night's sleep?”

Sam didn’t seem fazed. “I don't know, a little while, I guess. It's not a big deal.”

“Yeah, it is,” Dean argued.

“Look, I appreciate your concern-”

“Oh, I'm not concerned about you. It's your job to keep our asses alive,” he gave your covered leg a pat. “So I need you sharp,” he noted. There was a paused before he asked, “Seriously, are you still having nightmares about Jess?”

That was the last straw.

Pulling the sheets back, you threw yourself out of bed, grabbed a fist full of clothes, and stormed into the bathroom.

It’s not that you didn’t like the girl, it’s just… things were weird. They were awkward. They were complicated. You were pissed.

Here you were, with two Alphas that you cared about, and they cared about you. They were young, unbonded, familiar, safe. They were smart, funny, strong, caring. They were both the full package. Two perfect specimens… and neither wanted you. Not the way you needed them, at least.

The longer you went without John, the more time you were stuck with Sam and Dean, the clearer things got. Sam was never going to get over Jess, he was never going to let you in, you were never going to have what you used to have with him. Dean was never going to settle down, he was never going to give up other women, he was never going to claim you despite the fact he insisted he had feelings for you.

If things don’t change, I’m leaving, you told yourself.

Staring at your reflection in the crappy motel mirror that made everything look a little distorted, you made a promise. If no one was willing to step up, you were going to step down.

“Thanks for making the trip so quick,” Jerry started.

After a long shower, you’d walked back out into the motel room to find Sam and Dean packing. Neither talked about your sudden departure, instead Dean had pulled you closer and kissed your forehead before telling you about a possible case. That’s how you ended up here, with Jerry, walking through the hangar he worked at.

“I ought to be doing you guys a favour, not the other way around.” Jerry turned to Sam as he went on, “Dean and your dad really helped me out. And Y/N… she was the saving grace that really calmed my family down.”

Sam glanced down at you then, lips twitching as if he wanted to smile. He fought the urge though. “Yeah, Dean told me. It was a poltergeist?”

“Poltergeist?” one of the other workers called out. “Man, I loved that movie.”

“Hey, nobody's talking to you,” Jerry snapped. “Keep walking.” He waited until he was sure no one else was listening before he nodded at Sam. “Damn right it was a poltergeist, practically tore our house apart. Tell you something, if it wasn't for you and your dad, I probably wouldn't be alive,” he told Dean and then went back to Sam. “Your dad said you were off at college. Is that right?”

“Yeah, I was. I'm… taking some time off.”

“Well, he was real proud of you. I could tell. He talked about you all the time.”

“He did?” Sam was genuinely surprised.

You ducked your head down and smiled at the ground. John had always gone on about his youngest son. The defiant black sheep of the family. John could brag about his college boy for hours if you got him going.

“Yeah, you bet he did.” Jerry nodded. “Oh, hey, you know I tried to get a hold of him, but I couldn't. How's he doing, anyway?”

“He's, um, wrapped up in a job right now,” Dean dodged.

“Well, we're missing the old man, but we get Sam. Even trade, huh?” Jerry grinned as Dean chuckled.

Sam, however, didn’t quite agree. “No, not by a long shot.”

In Jerry’s office, you all took a seat. Jerry sat on one side of the desk, while the rest of you sat on the other.

“I listened to this. And, well, it sounded like it was up your alley.” Jerry grabbed a cd and put it into a drive. “Normally I wouldn't have access to this. It's the cockpit voice recorder for United Britannia flight 2485. It was one of ours.”

The recording started, and within seconds you found your hand shooting out to grab Dean’s.

“Mayday! Mayday! Repeat! This is United Britania 2485—immediate instruction help!”

“United Britanis 2485, I copy your message-”

“May be experiencing some mechanical failure...”

Suddenly there was this loud whooshing sound before the recording stopped.

“Took off from here, crashed about two hundred miles south,” Jerry explained. “Now, they're saying mechanical failure. Cabin depressurized somehow. Nobody knows why. Over a hundred people on board. Only seven got out alive. Pilot was one. His name is Chuck Lambert. He's a good friend of mine. Chuck is, uh...well, he's pretty broken up about it. Like it was his fault.

“You don't think it was?” Sam asked.

“No, I don't.”

“Jerry, we're gonna need passenger manifests, um, a list of survivors-”

Dean nodded, cutting Sam off, “Right, and uh… any way we can take a look at the wreckage?”

“The other stuff is no problem,” Jerry assured them, “but the wreckage... fellas, the NTSB has it locked down in an evidence warehouse. No way I've got that kind of clearance.”

That didn’t seem to bother Dean, as he simply shrugged. “No problem.”

You stood with Sam outside a Copy Jack, while Dean was in doing his thing. You could have gone in with him, but you felt the need to be with the car. With the Impala.

She was as much your home as she was the brothers’. You’d lived on the road for years now, and the only consistent place you could call your won was Baby. When things always felt like they were crumbling, you knew she would always be there.

Like now. John was John, Sam was back and it was weird, Dean was his usual self which wasn’t helping you at all… you weren’t sure how much longer you could deal with all of this.

Looking over at Sam as he leaned against the car, just a few feet away from you, you wondered if things would ever be the same. If things would ever feel less strange and foreign. He used to be your best friend, someone you could rely on for anything, but now you weren’t sure.

The door to the Copy Jack opened as Dean walked out, almost pumping into a young and attractive woman right away.

She smiled, looking him up and down. “Hey.”

“Hi.” He grinned, checking her out in return.

Having seen enough, you sighed and pulled the car door open before climbing in. Just because you knew what you and Dean had wasn’t an exclusive thing, doesn’t mean you wanted to be reminded of it every time a pretty woman walks by.

“You've been in there forever,” Sam noted as his brother neared the car.

You looked out the window and watched as Dean held up two fake IDs. “You can't rush perfection.”

“Homeland Security?” Sam took one of the cards. “That's pretty illegal, even for us.”

“Yeah, well, it's something new. You know? People haven't seen it a thousand times.” Dean shrugged as he walked around the car. Both he and Sam slid in before he went on, “All right, so, what do you got?”

“Well, there's definitely EVP on the cockpit voice recorder.” Sam grabbed his laptop.

“Yeah?”

“Listen.” Sam pressed play and started the edited version of the recording Jerry had shown you.

The voices from before were all scratchy and distorted, followed by something new…

“No survivors!”

Dean frowned. "’No survivors’? What's that supposed to mean? There were seven survivors.”

“Got me.” Sam shrugged.

“So, what are you thinking? A haunted flight?”

“There's a long history of spirits and death omens on planes and ships, like phantom travellers,” Sam started. “Or remember flight 401?”

“Right.” Dean nodded. “The one that crashed, the airline salvaged some of its parts, put it in other planes, then the spirit of the pilot and co-pilot haunted those flights.”

“Right. Maybe we got a similar deal,” Sam suggested.

“All right, so, survivors, which one do you want to talk to first?”

“Third on the list, Max Jaffey,” Sam told Dean.

“Why him?”

“Well, for one, he's from around here. And two, if anyone saw anything weird, he did.”

“What makes you say that?”

“Well, I spoke to his mother. And she told me where to find him.”

“He’s in a psychiatric hospital,” you explained before Sam could.

Turning in his seat, Dean looked to you. “Psychiatric hospital?” Both you and Sam gave a short nod. His eyes landed on you again. “You’re not coming.”

“No surprise there,” you mumbled.

“Hey. It’s a psychiatric hospital, you’re an Omega, there’s no telling what might happen,” he noted.

You shrugged. “I’m not arguing, Dean. Why should I bother?” Shifting in your seat, you turned your back on him and looked out the window.

When you don’t know what the brothers might be hunting, there’s not a lot you could do. What little research there was, had already been done. So, while locked away in the motel room, you just flicked through the TV, doing your best not to overthink.

You wanted to call John, but you couldn’t. You couldn’t bear the thought of listening to his voice mail for the millionth time. It was painful to hear, knot knowing when or if you’d veer see him again.

The motel room door opened as Sam and Dean returned. You glanced up from the TV to greet them, only to have your words get caught in your throat.

“Why are you dressed in suits?” you asked, eyes dragging over Dean and the black and white suit he wore.

Sighing, he dumped his keys, phone and wallet on the table. “Sam thought we needed to look the part.”

“You, uh… you look good,” you managed, suddenly finding your mouth a little dry.

Dean paused as he looked over at where you were sprawled out on the bed, having been watching TV. His lips curved into a grin as he started tugging on his tie and heading your way.

“I look good, huh?” He threw his tie onto the ground and then started to crawl up the bed.

Laughing lightly, you leaned up to meet him halfway as he bent down to press his lips against yours. Despite having been upset with him earlier, you just couldn’t stay mad. Especially not when he looked like this… there was something about a guy in a suit that made you all tingly.

“Guys,” Sam groaned. “Not right now. We’ve got a case and I’m still in the room.”

“Get your own room,” Dean grumbled, trailing his lips down to your neck. “My girl needs some attention.”

Your heart fluttered when he called you his girl, all thoughts and doubts from earlier fading. Dean always managed to get you to forgive him.

Sam wasn’t letting the two of you fall into each other so easily. “Dean, the case… the sulphur.”

You tensed underneath Dean and pressed your hand on his chest to pull him back up. “Sulphur.”

Nodding, he sighed again as he pulled back and stood again. “When we checked out the wreckage, we found sulphur.”

“So… we’re thinking demon?”

“Yeah,” Sam answered, looking from you to his brother, as if he was waiting for Dean to tell you more. As if he was waiting for something specific.

Dean glanced over at his brother with a look that clearly said he didn’t want to say more, but apparently, he had no choice. Sam just waited, expectantly, making Dean sigh one last time.

“Sammy and me think you should stay out of this one.”

You looked to each brother with a growing frown. “You mean… you want me sitting in the motel room doing nothing? Not even research?”

“We can’t risk you getting involved. You’re an Omega. You’re an unclaimed Omega. We don’t know what this demon is about, and the last thing we want is for it to get a whiff of you. It’s too dangerous.”

There was a tightness in your throat as you watched Dean. You took in his words, you understood where he was coming from, and you hated it.

“I’m an Omega.” You gave a curt nod. “Sure, Dean… I’ll stay out of it.” Shaking your head, you got up and headed for the bathroom before closing and locking the door behind you.

You’re an Omega. You’re an unclaimed Omega. So, in other words, you’re too fragile and vulnerable to help us. You’ll just get in the way. You should stay home and be a good little Omega, like you’re supposed to. You’re not built for this.

Fine then. If they didn’t want you to help, then you wouldn’t. Clearly you weren’t needed here.

A knock on the bathroom door had you turning your head against the bath’s edge. You’d been in there for about an hour, soaking in the hot water you’d filled the tub with.

“Y/N?” Dean called from the other side. “We got a lead… Sam and me, we’re gonna head out. You okay here?”

Rolling your eyes, you turned away from the door again. “Yep.”

There was some mumbling on the other side that you couldn’t quite make out, before Dean snapped in a harsh whisper. “I got it, Sam. Just go get in the car.”

You listened as someone moved around in the other room before they left.

“Sweetheart… you sure you’re okay?”

“I’m fine, Dean. You should go. There’s people to save and monsters to hunt, remember.”

He paused for a moment before giving the door a tap. “Okay… call us if you need anything.”

“Yep,” you answered shortly again.

Nothing else was said.

You listened as he moved about the room before leaving. Next you heard Baby start up, her roaring engine loud enough for you to hear perfectly. Then she was driving away.

The instant you were sure you were alone, and the brothers wouldn’t be back, you pulled yourself out of the tub and emptied the water. Grabbing your towel, you dried yourself off quickly and then pulled on some clothes before heading back out into the room.

Gathering everything of yours, you stuffed it into your bag. After making sure you’d left nothing behind, you pulled the strap of your bag over your shoulder and headed for the door.

Looking back once, you gave the room a sad smile before leaving.

It took no time at all before you found a car that was out of the way. No one saw anything as you broke into the car and dumped your things in the seat beside you. Dean had taught you how to hotwire a car a couple of years ago… you doubted he’d expected you to use that skill to run away from him.

Bamby