#but more like a loose thread that i noticed and played with like i'm a bored cat

[loosesodamarble]

As Time Moves On Part 4: The Mystery in Spade

Summary: The reconstruction effort in Spade Kingdom brings about a disturbing revelation. Genre: general Word count: ~1800

..........

The bitter cold was nothing new to the Spade Kingdom. Winters were long and harsh. Summers were fleeting like a breeze. But the people of Spade became resilient over the generations, especially so after the reign of terror that was the Zogratis family.

Thanks to the efforts of Spade’s Resistance Force and Clover Kingdom’s Magic Knights, freedom and peace were restored.

The long night known as the Devil Banishment War was passed. And the people of Spade, with renewed hope and strength, worked to usher in a new era of peace.

…..

“Thanks to the citizens, as well as the aid sent from Heart and Clover, we’re keeping a decent pace for the reconstruction plans we initially put forth.”

“Diamond Kingdom is in a state of political unrest. Not only from the Zogratis annexing some of their territory but also due to internal conflicts. We can’t expect any word from them any time soon.”

“We’ve sent messengers to Lumi Kingdom regarding assistance. There’s no telling how long it will take for them to respond though.”

“Every resident of the capital city has confirmed that they have new lodging. Either within another town or in the nearby tent cities.”

Ciel nodded along as her team of advisors filled her in on the state of affairs. It fell to her to lead her people after the Zogratis family was removed from power. She wished she didn’t have to do it alone, that Loyce was still there sharing the burden.

But Loyce was no longer of this world. He was in a better place. So Ciel made it her duty to restore Spade to the joyous land they’d once led together.

While listening to her advisors, Ciel also concentrated her mana on a spell: Full Moon Haven.

With the spell, she imbued an area with the gentle light of the moon, healing wounds and restoring stamina. She’d learned it years ago, before ever being queen, and in the present, she used it to tend to the many volunteers who toiled to clear debris and find those who were injured or killed during the Devil Banishment War. It was a blessing to have in her grimoire, as it meant she was able to serve her people as kindly as they served her.

“How soon do you think the capital will be rebuilt?” Ciel asked while slowly diminishing her mana output.

“Due to…” Albert, the leader of the resistance and one of Ciel’s advisors, paused and cleared his throat. It was more to break the tension that came with what he was about to say. “Due to the King of Devils leveling most of the capital city, there hasn’t been much large debris so clearing the land has been quick work. However, we can’t proceed quite yet as the task of recovering the bodies of the deceased has come to a standstill. It’s concerning the… high priority ones.”

Ciel’s eyes went wide and she bit the inside of her cheek to keep her face composed.

“I see.”

Ciel finished casting Full Moon Haven and sent off the patients, either to their lodgings or to a more skilled healer for severe wounds. Then, she and the advisors slipped away, towards the shadows of the castle ruins.

There were some questions she would need answered in privacy.

Dante Zogratis, Vanica Zogratis, and Zenon Zogratis of the Dark Triad. Moris Libardirt, former Magic Scholar of the Diamond Kingdom.

While reports from Clover’s Magic Knights attested to their downfalls, Ciel and her advisors had made it a priority to find their bodies again to confirm their deaths. The people of Spade had put their all into the task alongside preparing for the rebuilding of homes. And yet after four months…

“Has nothing from any of them been recovered?”

Ciel’s advisors frowned grimly.

“Are we certain that we’ve checked every possible nook and cranny of the castle? We’ve left no piece of rubble unturned? We haven’t ignored any rooms by accident, have we?” Ciel inquired between deep breaths.

“Your Majesty, we’re sure,” Albert answered and bowed his head slightly. “This was our fifth full area search. We cannot find a trace of them.”

Ciel wrung her hands together. Closed her eyes, squeezed them shut tight. She took deep breaths. Deep, slow, trying-to-prevent-panic breaths. With a final exhale, Ciel opened her eyes and looked her advisors in the eyes.

“Thank you for informing me,” she stated with the grace she’d practiced as queen. “If I may, I ask that I have a moment to myself.”

“Yes, Your Majesty,” the advisors spoke in unison as they bowed their heads. Then, they turned and left her be.

When Ciel felt sure she was on her own, she let out a heavy sigh. She placed her hands over her heart, feeling its anxious rhythm. After the coup and so many years living in hiding and praying for a miracle, Ciel believed she’d gotten used to being worried. But no, she’d only been used to worrying about the Dark Triad finding her to finish what they’d started.

Now, she feared that they could return and ruin the peace that was still new to the kingdom.

Ciel paced the area.

Yuno’s personal witness testimony detailed how Zenon turned into a devil and how his body crumbled upon defeat. The search for his body had been futile from the start. But that didn’t explain why nothing of Vanica, Dante, or Moris was found. Could it be that their bodies were completely crushed in the rubble? And that only unidentifiable, rotting bits of flesh and bloodstains remained?

Or…

Ciel shuddered.

There were individuals, the Dark Disciples, who earnestly followed the Zogratises. Is it possible that some of them survived and salvaged their leaders’ bodies? And since the Dark Disciples had no qualms about using Forbidden Magic, if the bodies were found… Then…

Her breath caught in her throat.

Vanica’s piercing, maniacal laugh while demanding a fight echoed in her ears.

Zenon’s listless gaze flashed across her mind’s eye, as if burned into her memory.

Dante’s hands and how they so carelessly dropped Loyce’s body to the floor, prepared to take her life next, made her body tremble.

Not again… She didn’t want the terror to return… To lose everything all over again…

Ciel clenched her hands into fists and shook her head.

“Don’t worry. Spade is safe now,” Yuno had said with a hushed confidence. “And I won’t let it come to harm again. As the next Wizard King, it’d be my duty to.”

A half-hearted laugh slipped past Ciel’s lips. Yuno’s statement didn’t make much sense but his heart was in the right place. It was in a place full of hope.

“That’s right…” Ciel told herself. “I can’t give into fear. Not now.”

There wasn’t a chance that Ciel would let herself give up so easily after everything that she and her people had endured. Not after hope in the form of mages from Clover and Heart arrived and chased away the darkness. Not after she got to see the man her son had become and still strove to be.

The Queen of Spade looked to the sky. The clouds were gray as per usual. However, their shade appeared lighter than usual.

…..

“Dear people of Spade Kingdom. I thank you all for gathering today so that I may address you regarding our current reconstruction efforts.”

Ciel’s voice carried across the crowd of people. Their faces showed tiredness and concern but mostly curiosity.

“As of now, we’re making good progress in rebuilding our kingdom.”

Smiles began to appear on people’s faces.

Ciel went on to summarize how clean up has concluded, how foreign aid would continue to be provided, and how resources were being allocated for the various reconstruction projects. The good news that she shared made the people’s moods brighter. And it lightened Ciel’s own heart to know that Spade was already rising up.

All that good news, though, would be soured by the troubling announcement she had to make next.

“There are many good things in store for Spade as we continue to rebuild our kingdom. However, it is with a heavy heart that I also deliver bad news to you all. It is a matter of transparency that I tell you all. While parties worked to recover the bodies of the deceased for proper burials, a select group was tasked with finding the bodies of specific individuals: the Dark Triad and their conspirator Moris Liberdirt. I and my advisors desired to confirm without a reasonable doubt that those four were indeed dead. Unfortunately, nothing of them has been recovered during these last four months.”

The grinning faces fell away and color drained from many complexions.

“As your queen, I apologize for being unable to fully confirm their deaths. I apologize for having to deliver such a frightening message. But I felt that you needed to know, so that you may understand my dedication to putting everyone at ease and giving them reason to have even greater hope, even if I could not follow through this time.

“The Zogratises and Moris haven’t turned up thus far and we might have to consider that their bodies may never turn up. However! We cannot let the memory of the Zogratis family and their actions hold us captive. My dear and brave citizens, I implore you! Let us remember how we have endured and overcome a dark period of our kingdom’s history. Let us bolster our spirits with resolve. We shall rebuild the Spade Kingdom to what it once was and make new memories for the next generation of our people!”

After Ciel’s voice dissipated into the sky, silence permeated the crowd.

Ciel looked upon her people.

Let my prayer resonate with them…

Then,

“For Spade Kingdom!” a voice from the crowd yelled.

“Towards a brighter future!” cried another as they raised their fist.

“Aye!”

“This is our kingdom again!”

“Here here!”

Shouts of determination arose, a testament to how the people had been weakened but not broken.

It was later decided that the corpses of Dante, Vanica, Zenon, and Moris didn’t need to be found. In all likelihood, the Zogratis family and Moris were dead. Their bodies lost to the land and their souls damned for their cruelty. As cold as it sounded, Ciel was glad to think that to be the case.

Uncertainty nestled within Ciel’s heart. However, the memory of her son’s affirmation and the optimistic calls of her citizens drowned out the whisper of fear.

[reaperexe]

Puppy ♡

Summary : When your overly energetic puppy plays wingman for you.

warnings : none, just fluff <3

Who knew raising a puppy was so difficult not in the sense of the amount of work it takes but the amount of energy the tiny little life had. Nothing could tire him, no amount of fetch, runs or walks.

So when you took him for a walk that afternoon and he somehow got off leash and went out of sight in less than a minute you knew you were in for a long walk.

You seemed to be running for hours till you reached the little puppy only to see him approach a guy sitting on the park bench with a cat near his feet. 'Wow so much for stranger danger' you thought.

The cat hisses as the little puppy approaches earning a pet from the guy as your puppy sticks his tongue out and wags his tail regardless and barks to get picked up.

You are shocked and a bit jealous to see the puppy settle so calmly in his arms when he wont even stay in yours and always wiggles to be put down.

You approach the trio, the cat eyeing you cautiously. You have to admit this guy does look pretty cute up close, maybe your puppy does have some taste after all.

"Um excuse me?" You say as he turn away from the puppy and to you, ok this guy is hot, you think.

"Oh is he yours?" He says holding out his arms with the puppy, as the little guy wags his tail and looks at you with his tongue sticking out.

"Yeah he seems to like you" You sigh with a smile 'and maybe i do too' you think.

The cat near your feet now stands up rubbing herself all over your legs while purring softly. "Seems like we got the wrong pets" He laughs petting your puppy.

"Do you wanna take a seat?" He asks noticing your state from the run behind the little puppy as you smile, embarrassed and take a seat next to him, placing the cat in your lap.

You spend the next hour just talking and exchanging names till you notice your puppy has now fallen asleep in his arms making you feel a bit jealous but also happy, seems like you've got to be close to this guy now, only for your puppy's sake of course.

"Well we should head back now" you say picking up the little guy and you notice his face falls a little but he agrees, picking up his cat from your lap.

You spend the next week taking the puppy to walk in the afternoon and like clockwork he would run up to the guy and his cat letting you have a reason to talk to him as well.

Today was different, you were exhausted from this week and all the work you had to do still you mustered up the energy and took the puppy for a walk.

He dragged you by the leash pulling you to the usual duo who sat at the bench. The guys smile dropping at your tired face.

"Everything ok? is this guy giving you trouble?" He says petting the puppy earning him tail wags and licks.

"No its not him its just work" You sigh sitting next to him as he pats the spot next to him.

"Oh it will get better trust me I'm going through it too" He chuckles as you hum along.

Talking to him honestly makes things much better, as you feel a bit energized now and finally notice how he looks today.

He's wearing a nicer sweatshirt and pants than his usual one which has loose threads at the end, his hair looks nicer, more styled and he's definitely wearing some cologne.

He smiles at you awkwardly seeing you eye him "does it look bad?" he asks honestly as your eyes widen.

"No- No you look great!" You add quickly.

"Oh great thanks" He sighs with a relieved look .

"Um i wanted to ask-" He says before being cut off by the puppy's bark for more pets causing both of you to chuckle as he pets him.

"You were saying?" You ask again tilting your head.

"Yeah i was wondering if-" He begins again only to be cut off by a meow that comes from your lap and you look down to see the cat purring for pets as well.

Laughing at the situation he musters up enough courage and yells, closing his eyes "would you like to go on a date with me?"

You sit there stunned and so do the pets you guess stilling in their places adding to the dramatic feel.

You chuckle as he eyes you nervously for a response.

"Thought you'd never ask" You chuckle causing him to sigh of relief as he smiles at you.

Sensing the energy your puppy starts bouncing with energy again before trying to lick the cat earning a aggressive hiss as you both chuckle.

"Good pet" He exhales petting both while you rest your head on his shoulder with a soft smile.

[silverameco]

Secret Relationship - @wolfstarmicrofic - 746 words

What Sirius didn't forseen, is that a secret relationship implied a secret break-up. Hidden love meant hidden sadness when it was all over. To be completely honest, he never thought it would end at all. He should have known, though, that he would find a way to ruin everything.

It had been a week. A week since Remus said I can't keep doing this. I don't want to be your secret anymore. A week since Sirius was stuck with the secret tears he shed every night, and the awful knowledge than the boy he loved was so close all the time - across the bedroom, the classroom or the dinner table - and yet so far away.

He didn't know what to do. They were so good together. Like friends, but better. All those secret meetings, passionate kisses behind closed doors and heated moments in the intimacy of silencing spells, all of it made Sirius feel more alive than ever. And now it was all over, because of him.

Nobody knew about them. Because he was so scared. Of the world, of himself. So scared he couldn't let himself take Remus' hand in an empty corridor, he couldn't show all the love he felt, couldn't tell the world about how amazing Remus was. But he wanted to. He really wanted to. He didn't even realize Remus drifted away from him, until it was too late. And now he didn't know what to do to fix it. He couldn't tell anyone about it, because nobody knew about them. Because it was like it never existed at all, even though it felt like the only real thing Sirius ever lived.

Well, it was without one James Potter to count on. He was cornered in the dorm one evening, before they went down to dinner. Sirius was sitting on his bed, James joined him and began talking before he could think about fleeing.

"Oi you wanker, what's up with you and Moony ?"

"Um, nothing ?" he felt himself flush with the blatant lie.

"Sirius. You've both been looking like miserable sods for days, and you're barely talking to each other."

Sirius didn't answer, and kept his eyes fixated on his hands, playing with a loose thread from his bedsheets. He didn't know what to say that wasn't a lie. It didn't deter James.

"You've both been so happy these past months. I thought-"

At that, Sirius raised his head to look at James, eyes wide and beseeching. Maybe he wanted someone to know, after all. "You thought ?"

"Well, that you were together."

He said it with a soft voice and a kind smile. Like maybe, it was all okay. Except it wasn't, because they weren't together anymore. He felt the tears welled in his eyes.

"Oh, Pads. What happened ?"

Next thing he knew, he was pulled into a hug, and Sirius was sobbing into James' chest.

"I- I ruined everything. Because I w-was so- so scared. And now he d-doesn't want me any- anymore."

"Padfoot, listen to me. I don't know what happened exactly, but I know that Remus has been looking at you like a lovesick idiot for years. You can't ruin that. I'm sure it's fixable, okay ?"

Before Sirius could answer, the door opened on no other than Remus himself. Sirius straightened himself, hastily wiping his tears.

"Er- sorry, I-"

But then their eyes met, and it was like Remus didn't know what he was going to say anymore. He seemed lost, looking at Sirius' teary face like it was hurting him. Sirius noticed that the circles under his eyes were darker than usual. He wanted to erase them. Before he could think about what he was doing, he got up and stepped in front of Remus.

"Moony." he said in a small, tentative voice, that he barely recognized as his own.

"Yeah ?"

Sirius took a deep breath. "I love you. I want to be with you. I'm sorry I made you feel like I didn't. I'm not sure I'm ready to tell everyone yet, but I don't want us to be a secret either. So, if by any chance, you still want me-"

And then, Remus' lips were on his, just like that. Like they've never been apart in the first place, because they shouldn't be. James was cheering obnoxiously behind them and it felt right, because they were too good together, loved each other too much to be a secret.

[malecftw]

Dirt - Tom Blyth

A/N: Duuuuuuuude, I feel like I'm in an alternate universe. Never would I have thought I'd ever be writing again, years later! Please please please let me know what you guys think since this is my first story back. It'll probably play a part in wether or not I'll write more since I obvs love writing, but a writer isn't a writer without readers.

Enjoy xx

Warnings: fluff.

(Not my gif obvs)

The cool breeze of the opening car door makes you smile. The vehicle moves slightly as someone sits in the driver's seat. After some rustling you hear: "Open up." You do as you're told and open your lips slightly, only to feel the cool metal of a reusable straw. A groan escapes your lips as you taste your favorite cooled beverage. By now, he knew all your favorites by heart, just like he knew your dislike for the standard paper straws they've started using everywhere. You're all for saving the planet, but paper should never be sucked on. You lean your head against the headrest as you turn your head towards the driver's seat, even though your eyes could only see black.

"Does this mean you're gonna be my servant all day?" You hear a chuckle. "Don't get used to it hot stuff. You're only blindfolded until we get there." You puckered your lips, "and where is there exactly?" you try again. For months, he's been keeping you in the dark about what he had planned for your birthday. He hyped it up quite a bit so your curiosity only grew as it led you to this moment, literally in the dark about the whole thing. He just kissed your lips and you knew that was the only answer you were gonna get.

The drive was filled with your favorite music, the occasional chatter and regular hand kisses as he held yours in your lap. Although you couldn't see anything, you weren't bored. It was rare that you got to spend much time together, so even this was a treat. You still found it crazy how he had been able to persuade the producers and director to film around your birthday. Well, persuading isn't exactly the right word. He had a few different gigs lined up, so he could basically tell them: "Give me these days off, or I'm going for the other job."

He was always the assertive one in the relationship. Especially when it came to you. Any free moment he could get, he would make sure to capitalize on it just so he could spend it with you. Ever since you guys met at Julliard, you'd been absolutely smitten with eachother.

Your thoughts were interrupted as the car came to a halt. "Slow down tiger." He said, quickly grabbing your hand moving towards the blindfold. "Tooooooom, please..." you whined, squeezing his hand. "You'll find out soon enough, trust me. Now I'm going to come over to your side to help you get out okay. No peeking."

The dramatic sigh that left your lips made him laugh, loving the advantage he had over you. As you play with a loose thread on your jean overall he opens the door. Grabbing your waist, he lifts you out of the Jeep, squeezing your sides in the process.

"Okay, take off your blindfold on my mark." He exclaims, followed by alot of shuffling, making you aware of multiple people present. "Go for it babe." He says loudly, and you do as he says.

The sight infront of you startles you, not at all what you expected. It feels like you're in some kind of national park. Only stones, sand and dirt in sight. If you exclude the group of people infront of you that is.

"HAPPY BIRTHDAY!" Everyone shouts at the same time and you jump back a little in surprise. In front of you are you closest friends, as well as some of Tom's coworkers you'd been lucky enough to get close to. A few Billy The Kid costars were also there, you assumed the others had to keep filming while he had a couple days off.

As you take in the sight, hand over your mouth, still in shock, you notice everyone has a bucket hanging from their wrist. "What the fuck!?!" you shout, happy but confused. Tom walks up to you, takes your hand and walks you closer to the group. He hands you a similar looking bucket, a chisel and a hammer.

"We're going crystal digging." Tom smiles, stretching out his arms proudly as he looks at the scenery. Your heart nearly bursts at the seams as you throw your new equipment to the ground and jump in his arms, clinging onto him like a Koala.

"Tom Blyth, you are the most unrealistically perfect boyfriend ever and I do wonder how I ended up with you." You whisper, looking into his eyes, trying to make him realise how much this means to you.

It's not like you were crystal-obsessed. It's just something you'd been drawn to your entire life. A little quirk one might say. It was a subtle part of your life. One that you had often gotten judged for by previous boyfriends. Tom never spoke negatively about it, it was just a part of who you are and if it made you happy, why would he try to manipulate it out of you like the ones before him. It's not because he himself wasn't that interested in it, that you weren't allowed to be.

"Babe, all I do is listen. It's not rocket science." He smiles as he gives you a little Eskimo kiss. "So humble," you mock swoon as het puts you down. "Oi, don't be jealous if I find the biggest rock okay." He grins while nudging your side. "Not gonna happen. I'm a crystal magnet." You say cockily as you join the group.

After a couple hours, everyone was covered in dust and dirt. Happily you look at your bucket, having found a couple huge, beautiful crystals and a lot of smaller ones. Next to you Tom was also holding his bucket closer to his face to inspect what he found. Your shoulder touches his elbow as you say: "You know what, I might have a couple of them made into some lovely jewelry pieces."

Tom looks at you bewildered. "Like what?" You don't think much of it as you answer. "I don't know. There's some beautiful stones in here for some earrings, necklaces, bracelets... Or maybe I can make some stuff myself you know. Get my creative juices flowing." He sighs softly at your answer. "I love you." At that you raise your eyebrow. Neither you or Tom were shy of expressing your love for eachother, but this was a bit random. "I love you too. I honestly don't think you realise how much this means to me. I never would have guessed this to be the surprise. It's so thoughtful. It truly shows how much you know me through and through." "I'm glad you like it. You're always down to try anything, even if you're not sure about it in the beginning. That's why I feel comfortable trying something new. I'm aware it hasn't been easy now that work's been steady and I've been away from home a lot. And you have no idea how much I appreciate you giving me the freedom to follow my dreams."

He leans down and kisses you passionately. Melting into his touch you stand there for a while looking at the scenery, taking everything in.

*That evening*

"You clean up nicely mr. Blyth." You comment on his attire. He does a little twirl, smirking as he checks you out. "You're not so bad for a little scavenger." You poke his side and sit down in one of the chairs. After you'd said your goodbyes to the rest of the group, Tom had driven you about an hour away from the crystal mine. You knew that wasn't the end of your birthday surprise since he'd told you to also pack some nice evening attire.

Tom had booked an amazing restaurant. The owners went above and beyone to blow your mind, preparing an outdoor table with the best view. After dessert, you both were enjoying some lovely wine and eachother. Catching up after not having seen eachother for a while since you'd only flow in yesterday so you could spend your birthday together.

He absentmindedly played with your fingers as a comfortable silence settled between you two. You felt him rubbing your ring finger and noticed him looking at it. "Looks quite empty doesn't it." He says quite casually. You roll your eyes and jokingly hit his chest. "Don't play that game." You say, smiling widely. You'd talked about marriage before, you both knew you wanted it at some point in your life. Sure some people say it's just a piece of paper, and you couldn't fully disagree, but it also had a deeper meaning to the both of you. The promise of choosing eachother, every day, forever.

He looked into your eyes and shook his head.

"I'm not playing games anymore love."

The way he said it made you shiver. He'd made that joke before, but never with an answer so serious. He leaned back in his chair. "Do you remember, early on in our relationship, that time I forgot my tie for one of the first plays I did at Julliard?" You smile as you think back to that memory. "How could I forget. You were basically a living zombie for 3 weeks leading up to that play."

Tom nodded, back to playing with your fingers.

"I remember I had been so stressed. The character I played was so dull. I struggled so much finding ways to make him more interesting to the audience. And that damn tie. It was so important to me. Silly how something so small could mean so much at the time." "So much that you forgot it at home 3 hours before the play." You humored.

Looking enamoured, he continued.

"And I remember you. You with your make up half done, running towards me in a fucking thunderstorm. And when we met in the middle, you just casually opened your vest, handing over that damn tie."

Laughter exploded from your chest. You were in the middle of getting ready to attend the play when you got the frantic call from Tom. You didn't think twice and started running towards the school, and didn't even realise it was raining until you were running through the streets of New York City, by then it was too late to turn back to dress appropriately for the weather.

The man infront of you smiling, as he relived the same memory.

"That's when I knew."

A questioning look painted your face.

"I knew. Right then and there, that I'd always look for you in the crowd."

Speechless, you squeezed his hand.

He sat up straight in his chair. Taking both of your hands in his.

"I love you. I love the way you still can't use our airfryer, 2 years after we got it. I love your random obsession with knitting and making me wear your handmade sweaters to work. I love home, but only when you're there. I love that you let me be who I truly am and I love that you are fearlessly yourself."

He stood up and kneeled down infront of you, taking out a red, velvet box.

"Please allow me, to fulfill one more dream of mine."

As he opens the box he speaks with shaking voice and tears in his eyes.

"Will you marry me?"

[hsfan94]

Opposite

AN: In honour of Short N Sweet coming out, here's one I wrote a year ago from the google docs. It was originally going to have a sad ending but I changed it up to fit how I'm feeling now. I hope you like it!

Y/n felt so stupid. The worst part was that she couldn’t even be mad. She was the one who got it so wrong. She could throw up from how stupid and sad she felt at the present moment. However, she was squished between Gemma and Harry in the first row of a balcony seating section at the National Theatre so she couldn’t escape.

Y/n met Harry in early 2019. She had just started out as a writer and producer. She got a call to come in for a studio session but wasn’t told anything else about the project. When she got there and walked in to see Harry Styles sitting casually on the couch in a white t-shirt and corduroys her heart stopped. It started up again, racing, when he stood up and came to greet her. Instead of shaking her hand like she would have expected, he enveloped her in the coziest hug ever.

“I’m so glad you were available to come today.” He told her, pulling back just enough to make eye contact. “I’m such a huge fan.”

She was shocked that he had heard anything she’d worked on let alone that he liked it. 

“Thank you,” she said. “What’s this project we’re working on today all about?”

The biggest smile grew on his face as he started to tell her all about the record and the last few songs that needed finishing. 

They hit it off so well that they never missed a chance to work together and hung out as often as possible.

That led her to here. Now. Y/n was in love with him. She hadn’t planned to fall, but with Harry it was as easy as breathing. Looking at him just melted her from the inside out, hearing his voice could calm any worry she had. Her favorite color became the exact shade of his eyes. Her favorite songs were the ones he wrote that she could imagine were about her. Realistically she knew none of them were but she’d written about him so it was nice to imagine the other way around. He was everything to her. He was also the only one who didn’t know. 

So, here she was. She had been staying in London for a project with Jack Antonoff at Abbey Road and she had gotten a call last night from her Harry. 

“What are you up to tomorrow night?” He had said, voice soft and unsure. It almost sounded like he was nervous. 

“Nothing, it’s my day off, why?” She said, picking at a piece of her comforter that had a loose thread.

“Would you want to come see this play, “The Effect”, with me?” He sounded hopeful. She could hear it in his inflections. Like he really wanted her there. 

“Harry, you already know I’d do anything you ask me to.” She smiled against her phone at the sound of his laugh coming through the line. 

“Okay then, I’ll text you the details. See you tomorrow, Y/n.”

She should’ve known from the text that her interpretation was wrong. 

It seemed like it was a date when he asked. But as she walked along the river, she couldn’t help but think that if it was a date, he would’ve picked her up and they would have gone together. 

The thought was shattered even more when she saw Gemma and Michael standing outside the theatre where he had asked her to meet him. 

Gemma, who was dressed in a lovely evening gown, noticed her rather quickly. She unhooked her arm from where it was locked with Michael’s and closed the short distance between them. 

“Y/n, I didn’t know you were coming,” she said, engulfing Y/n in a tight hug. 

“I could say the same.” Y/n pulled away first and glanced between her two friends. 

“Harry didn’t tell you we were coming too?” Gemma quirked her eyebrow in that very specific way that only she and her brother can. 

Y/n only shook her head. She noticed both their gazes turn to something akin to pity so she quickly shot her focus to the stones under her feet. They were quite interesting really. Not quite cobble stone but not pavement either. 

“Oh. Well. Maybe he just forgot he invited us then.”

Y/n could hear in Gemma’s voice that she already knew what Y/n had thought. But before more could be said both her and Gemma’s phones chimed with a text saying the plan had changed and he would meet them inside. 

Y/n’s heart fell that much more when the three of them made their way through the doors. Harry was leaning against a wall, talking animatedly to a beautiful woman. She was around five foot five and all around the complete opposite of Y/n. He had that specific twinkle in his eye that only shows up when he’s interested in someone. Just as Y/n was mentally comparing the exact differences in her and the other woman’s body type, Harry looked over and made eye contact with her. She quickly forced a smile and waved at him. He leaned over and whispered something in the other woman’s ear and then strode over to meet the three of them.

“I’m so glad you could come,” he said, pulling Y/n into a hug. 

“Well I didn’t have much else going on.” She tried to keep an airiness in her voice to mask her true feelings.

“Gem, Micheal, it means a lot.” He shook Micheal’s hand and hugged Gemma.

“Yeah, I looked it up online and I’m quite excited. Thank you so much for the invite.” Gemma gave a very subtle nervous glance between Harry, Y/n and the woman he didn’t introduce them to but clearly came with.

“Well,” he reached into his coat pocket, “here are the tickets. You guys go ahead and find the seats, I’ll be up in a bit.” 

As soon as Gemma took them from him, he turned around and made his way back to his previous spot against the wall.

The three of them made it to the seats and sat in an uncomfortable silence. The tension Harry had created in just that short little encounter was weighing down on them. Harry made his way to them just before curtain and right as the play started he placed his hand on Y/n’s knee, squeezed and whispered, “I’m really glad you came.”

The whole play Y/n couldn’t focus on the actual show. She was swimming in circles in her mind trying to figure out why she had got it wrong, trying her best not to cry, and debating how to escape without drawing suspicion. There was no worse feeling than the one she got when, between all of those other attention grabbers, she would look over and see Harry staring down at Taylor (she learned her name from the program) with the most loving gaze. When the play finally ended, Y/n waited through the clapping and cheering, joining in to not arouse suspicion, but then made a great escape.

“Harry,” she said gently just as they got back to the lobby.

“Yes, love?”

“Thank you for the invite, I really have to head home though, I’m not feeling too well.” To be fair, it wasn’t a lie.

“Oh, I’m sorry.” He pulled her into a hug. “I hope you feel better, text me if you need anything.”

She just nodded and walked briskly out the door. She didn’t even make it ten feet before tears started streaming, silently, down her face.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Harry was concerned. He had tried to get ahold of Y/n the next day to see if she was feeling any better but his calls kept going to voicemail. He wanted to introduce her to Taylor but never got the chance. Now that it had been over 24 hours (and counting) and she still had not replied to his calls and texts, he was beginning to panic. What if something terrible had happened to her on her walk home. He picked up his phone to call her for the hundredth time and it went to voicemail again.

“Y/n, it’s me again. I need to know if you’re okay. I was also hoping to discuss some things with you while you’re in town and I know you were supposed to be leaving next week… but maybe the plans changed since you have fallen ill. I’m rambling, sorry. Please, please, please just at least text me. Anything just to let me know you’re alive.”

He hung up and decided to call his sister to see if she had heard from her or noticed if something was off.

“Hey, H, what’s up?”

“Have you heard from Y/n.” He rushed the words out almost on top of her’s.

“I’m well, thanks for asking, you?” Gemma’s tone was drenched in sarcasm.

“I’m serious, Gem, I’m really worried. She’s not responding to my messages. Did she seem okay last night?” He ran a hand through his hair as he paced around the room.

Gemma let out a loud, exasperated sigh. “Harry, are you dense?”

“Excuse me?” 

“Of course she wasn’t okay last night,” she said, pausing to see if she would be interrupted again and continued when he stayed silent. “You invited her to a play that you failed to mention you invited me and Micheal to as well and then she goes inside to find out you have a girlfriend.”

Color him confused. “Okay… I’m not following.”

“Right. Dense.” She took another deep breath. “I feel as though I’m betraying her trust by disclosing to you but I also cannot for the life of me believe you could be so blind. She thought it was a date.”

“Why would she think that?” His heart sped up a little.

“Hmmm… Let’s think shall we? One, you have been joined at the hip for nearly five years. Two, she was under the impression that you were both single. Three, she’s madly in love with you. Four, you’ve been-”

“What was that?” He cut her off.

“Which part? None of this should be new information.” It came out biting and flooded with irritation.

“She’s… in love with me?”

“Yes, you idiot. Do you even have a brain?”

“Oi! No need to be rude or come for my intellect. I had no idea.”

Gemma sighed again, very defeated. “Do you even hear how she talks about you? Do you see the way she looks at you? Have you heard her songs? It’s so clear to everyone who has been around you two.” He was stunned into silence. “So back to your original question, no. She’s very hurt and embarrassed. I called her last night to check in and she had been crying and insisting she was so stupid and foolish for thinking you could ever want to ask her on a date.” His heart cracked. “It was heartbreaking and I kept trying to tell her you were the stupid one but she rushed to your defense as always, your greatest defender. So I imagine she just needs some space. I know you wanted to talk to her about album four but I think the last thing she needs is to potentially hear poems about another woman who’s place she could never hope to take.”

He hadn’t realized he started crying. It was a combination of things he supposed. The influx of all this new, overwhelming information, his best friend being so upset she had holed herself up somewhere to avoid him like the plague, and his sister having such a beautiful way with words and immense concern for his friend.

“I really had no idea. I’m such an ass.”

As if she noticed the choked sound of his crying, Gemma’s voice softened. “Not an ass, just a little oblivious. But you have strung her along a bit. I mean she would argue that it's all one-sided, but I’ve been around you two a lot, including the Christmas you brought her home because “she would have spent it alone otherwise” which is very boyfriend-y.”

“How do I fix it? How can I make it right?”

“Well, I can’t say for sure you can. If you love her the way she loves you, which I suspect you might even if you have a girlfriend, then the answer is simple. If not, then I guess give her time. Hell, I’d give her time either way. But if it’s the second one, you might have to accept that she may never get over you and therefore continuing on like you were would be an asshole thing to do.”

“Thank you, for the advice. Ummm. I guess I have some things to think about.”

“You will do the right thing, baby brother, I know you will. You are a great person and an even better friend. Also, don’t tell her I told you all this.”

He let out a half hearted chuckle. “Of course. I love you.”

“Love you too!”

And with that she hung up. And Harry had never felt so heavy hearted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n had been religiously ignoring his texts and calls. She felt so stupid and embarrassed. Of course it wasn’t going to be a date and she could not believe she’d thought that so easily. Her anger and sadness were only directed at herself but she still couldn’t bear to hear his voice just yet. 

She lived and breathed music. So music was the answer. She wanted to send him a signal. She never wanted to outright tell him as it could go so wrong. But he sounded so worried, she wanted him to have a slice of understanding behind her distance. 

She pulled up her camera, sat down at her piano and started singing.

“Oh so you do have a type and it's not me…”

She poured her heart and soul into the session with Sabrina over a year ago. They had something in common at the time. They were both lovelorn over someone who preferred other people.

“She looks nothing like me, so why do you look so happy?”

She recorded the whole song on her camera app and posted it to instagram with the caption, “reminiscing on writing this beauty with @sabrinacarpenter”.

She put her phone away for at least an hour, not wanting to see immediate reactions.

When she did get the courage to look she saw that Gemma had commented crying emojis and that Harry had in fact liked both the post and her comment. She was unsure if her message was really received but she tried not to think about it as she fell asleep.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

There were knives lodged in his heart and shoved down his throat when he popped on to see her post after Gemma sent him a text about it. He loved that song. He had been the first person she showed it to when they wrote it. Yet, he never guessed it was about him and (what he assumes based on the time of writing) Olivia. But now it had more meaning to her as he did it again. Chose to be happy with someone else who in fact looks nothing like her. 

The truth was Harry had no idea if he loved her the way she loved him. From what he was uncovering about her love for him, he didn’t even know if he could love anyone that way. 

He had never shown romantic interest in her, sure, but he couldn’t understand why she was convinced he could never be interested in her that way. She was smart, talented, funny and kind. He thought she was the kind of person anyone would be lucky to end up with. He remembered one thing but that couldn’t have been enough to implant that in her head, could it?

“Is one of these ladies your date?” Jack motioned between Gemma and Y/n. 

“That’s my sister.” Harry pointed at Gemma. He was going to explain who Y/n was but Jack started off on a tangent about families and the award show. Everyone was laughing and then all of the sudden Jack had left the table and Harry noticed Y/n seemed a little off the rest of the night. 

Maybe she had thought that was a date as well and he brushed her off, be it unintentionally, and not even introduced her to Jack. But it didn’t really explain what about him overall could give her such an impression. 

If he was honest, he had never given himself time to truly think about how he feels for her. They met when he was still broken up about Camille and he really needed a friend. In a way getting to know her helped him pick up the pieces. Not too long after that though, they were separated for a long period of time because of the pandemic and then he all but ran into Olivia’s open arms. He had seen Y/n a lot in the eight months he had been single this past year and he always really enjoyed their time together but he never gave himself a moment to stop and explore how he felt about her. 

Now he found himself conflicted. He truly thought he was falling in love with Taylor but thinking about Y/n in this way (with deep thought and the ability to isolate himself and his feelings) he was starting to question his understanding of romantic love. He knew he didn’t love Taylor the way Y/n loved him. But he didn’t think he loved Y/n that way either and wouldn’t it be cruel for her to end up with someone who couldn’t give her that? Who couldn’t give her what she deserved? Gemma had told him to give Y/n time but now he felt as though he needed time too. 

Dejected, he stood up from the couch, where he had been staring out the window for the last hour, and picked up his phone. 

“Hey,” he said, when she answered. “Can we talk?”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Thank you for coming,” Harry said, standing up from his usual table to greet her.

“Of course,” Taylor made a move to kiss him but he turned so she only caught his cheek. If it bothered her she didn’t let it show on her face.

They sat down and let silence fall over them.

“I don’t really know how to say what I want to say.” Harry played with the rings on his fingers. He was having a hard time looking at her as he knew he was about to hurt her. 

She reached across the table and grabbed his hand. Running her thumb over his knuckles she said “Take your time, yeah? I’ve got all day.”

She was so sweet and patient and he felt terrible. But he’d been stupid and rushed into something without thinking and this is where it got him.

“I think we should, maybe, take a break.” His eyes were still fixed to his hands and hers that laid on top.

“Is that… I mean… Is that really what you want? You seem unsure.” Her tone was patient and calm as if his answer didn’t matter as much to her as she thought it would to him.

“I mean yes? I know that I’m not coming off very sure. Let me start over. I’ve really enjoyed our time together and I truly think I’m falling for you but…”

“There’s someone else?” 

“What?” His eyes finally met hers.

“That’s what it is isn’t it?” She slowly removed her hands from his. “Harry, I think you’re great and the last few months have been a lot of fun, but I’m not stupid. That girl that came to the play, it’s her right?” She took a sip of her water, ever so patiently, as if she truly wouldn’t care either way because all he could find on her face was absolute understanding and it somehow made him feel worse.

“I didn’t know. You have to understand that. It seems I’m the last to know.” He paused to get a deep breath. “She’s one of my best friends and I invited her to introduce you, but she ran out saying she didn’t feel good. I hadn’t heard from her and I was worried sick because she walked home that night and my sister told me she was upset because she thought I invited her on a date. I’ve been running around my mind in circles trying to figure everything out but I’m just so lost and confused.”

She nodded once and then spoke again. “Let me help. Close your eyes.” He fluttered his lids shut and she continued. “It’s your wedding day, the music just started and the bride is coming towards you, who is it?”

He felt a smile overtake his face at the mental image of his best friend floating down an isle filled with petals, she was wearing a beautiful white dress and… His eyes shot open. “Woah.” The only word he could say.

“It was her, yeah?” For the first time Taylor had a hint of sadness outlining her features.

He nodded his head. “That was crazy, I’ve never thought about my wedding before like that.” After his initial shock faded he looked up at her apologetically. “You’re really great Taylor. You deserve someone amazing. I’m sorry that it can’t be me.”

She stood up from the table, leaned down to kiss his cheek again and spoke one last time. “Thank you Harry, you’re a great guy. I wish you all the best.” 

And just like that she left the pub and he was left alone again only this time he was more sure of what he wanted.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Y/n’s phone had been ringing non-stop and it was really getting in the way of the session.

“Y/n are you sure you don’t need to get that?” Jack asked her.

When it first started ringing fifteen minutes ago she told him she’d let it go to voicemail not realizing that whoever it was, wouldn’t give up.

“Yeah, I’ll go check it I guess.”

She had filled Jack in on all the details of her weekend so he knew she was avoiding someone but he seemed worried that her phone was going off so much. So she decided to put her friend at ease and she took it outside. It had of course been Harry. He had just finished his calling for the tenth time when a text popped up.

I know you’re upset with me, but I’d really like to talk some things through this evening if you can. Does your favourite place at 8 work?

Half smiling, because he really could have sent a text to begin with, she responded.

Sure. Now stop calling, Jack and I need to finish this track so I can make it to dinner.

He sent back a “Sorry” with the little blushing emoji and she hearted the message.

She went back inside and told Jack there shouldn’t be any more interruptions.

“Was it Harry?” He asked, the nosy git.

“Yeah, he wants to get dinner to make it up to me I guess, but the strange thing is he shouldn’t even know I’m upset with him.”

She continued on through the session with dinner out of her mind and when it rolled around to 7:00 she left the studio and headed to the restaurant.

When she got there, he had already gotten a table, secluded in the back corner. It had two lit candles and a bouquet of roses and she was really confused. Harry stood up to greet her and she noticed how fancy he had dressed and she suddenly felt her ripped jeans and cardigan put her out of place. 

“Why didn’t you tell me you were dressing up? I look so out of place,” She said as he came to hug her.

A frown formed on his face and he replied, “You look beautiful.”

Her insides exploded the way they always did when he complimented her.

They sat down and an awkward silence fell over them. He was just staring at her with the strangest look on his face and she couldn’t take it anymore.

“Harry, why are we here?” 

Before he could reply a waiter came to the table with a bottle of her favorite wine and poured them both a glass. She stared at the bottle with wide eyes, because how had he remembered she preferred this one to any other and why had he ordered them a bottle, it was going to cost a fortune.

“Harry What-”

“I’m so sorry, Y/n.” He gently placed a hand over hers.

“For what?” She was going to lose her mind soon.

“I’ve been horrible and blind and I’ve hurt you. I can’t begin to apologize in a way worthy of your forgiveness.”

“Harry, what are you talking about?” She hadn’t been aware that he knew she was upset. 

“I’ve been a selfish fool and I’m so sorry, but if you let me, I’ll make it up to you.” 

It was as if he couldn’t hear her questioning. Like he had planned out some speech and was so anxious to get through it he couldn’t allow himself to get sidetracked but she needed to understand what he was apologizing for.

“Harry,” she said sharply, dragging his attention to her face, “what are you talking about? I’m so confused right now.”

He took a deep breath and started over. “Please don’t be angry with her, she was only trying to help.” She must have made a face that screamed confusion so he continued. “My sister told me how you feel. She told me you thought the play was supposed to be a date and she called me a bunch of names for being clueless. I’m truly sorry. I genuinely had no idea that was how you felt.”

Her stomach had dropped through the floor. If she thought she had been embarrassed before, this was something much worse. “Oh um… yeah… don’t worry about it. She really shouldn’t have said anything.” She started to stand up. “You don’t have to do all this, it’s fine I’ll just…” She had started to take a step towards the door when she felt his hand wrap around her wrist and tug her back.

“Please don’t do that. Don’t leave. I want to talk about this. I want to make it up to you.” When she turned to look at him, there was a look of terror on his face at the thought of her leaving.

“I don’t know how you can. You didn’t really do anything, it’s me. It’s something I need to get over.” She reluctantly sat back down.

“I don’t want it to be something you get over,” he said fast, panic in his voice. The candles being placed just so, she could see every little detail of his face as he leaned in closer.

“What? That doesn’t make sense.” Her head shook back and forth. She had more to say, she was going to go on and on about how sad that situation would be, her in love with him, him in love with other people. But he didn’t give her a chance to continue.

“Just… Let me explain okay?” He searched her eyes for permission and when she nodded he continued. “I’ve been stupid okay? When we met I really needed a friend. A shoulder to lean on and I met you and that’s what you were. Then the pandemic happened and I got lonely and Olivia was there. I don’t know, it was just easy. Then when she and I broke up, you and I got to hangout more, like we used to and instead of letting myself ponder how I truly felt about you I started dating someone else. I met with Taylor earlier and we called it off.” He paused to drink some wine with big, long gulps, something she knew he did when he was nervous or stressed so she reached out and squeezed his hand in reassurance and a huge smile lit up his face. “She did this small thing to help me realize it was always going to be you.” Her heart thudded in her chest. “She told me to close my eyes and picture it was my wedding day, something I’ve never done, and she asked who I saw walking towards me and it was the most beautiful picture I’ve ever seen. You were in a custom Harris Reed wedding dress, walking towards me and it was the happiest I’d ever felt. But honestly I think it had to happen this way, me being with her first because otherwise I may have never realized it. So in a way I’m not sorry for that, I’m just sorry I hurt you and I hope that you will still give me a chance. Since the other night wasn’t able to be our first date like you hoped, maybe this can be?” 

He took a deep breath once he was done talking and stared at her nervously. Her mind was going a mile a minute. He met with Taylor to call it off? He pictured her at the end of the aisle? He wanted this to be a date? She didn’t know what to start with. Instead of voicing every thought on her mind she started laughing hysterically. 

“Yeah right! You want to be on a date with me? Me at the end of the aisle? Harry be so serious right now. This is the worst practical joke I’ve ever been on the receiving end of. If me having feelings for you made you that uncomfortable you could have just said, no need to humiliate me this way.” She couldn’t stop laughing despite the fact that what she was saying was anything but funny. She was sure he’d join in any second to confirm her suspicions but when she was able to open her eyes for long enough he looked so mad that she could swear steam was about to erupt from his head. 

“I am being serious! Do you know what the worst part of the last few days was?” When she shook her head he continued. “It was that Gemma told me you thought, no knew, that I’d never see you that way. That I’d never want to ask you on a date and I’ve been feeling so shitty trying to figure out what I’ve done that could make you think such a thing. That the thought alone had made you so sad you didn’t want to see me or talk to me.” 

He looked like he wasn’t done but she had to interrupt him. To explain herself. She gently grabbed his hands again and spoke softly and more seriously this time. 

“Harry. You didn’t necessarily do anything, I’ve just… I mean… look at you,” she gestured at him then back to herself, “and look at me. There’s just no universe in which I’d get the guy y’a know? And that’s okay, really. I love being a part of your life no matter what. Besides I’ve seen your exes, even ones I haven’t met personally, and they’re all, well you know, smaller and prettier and the kind of girls that do get the guy. I really need to just try harder to find someone in my league even if it means it’s not you.” 

He started to cry and she hated it. She didn’t mean to hurt his feelings. 

“Y/n how could you say those things about yourself? You are the most incredible person I’ve ever met, inside and out. If anything you are out of my league and I’d be lucky to end up with you. And I hate myself for never showing you properly how beautiful and special you are.” 

She stood up and came around to his side of the booth and sat beside him. 

“Hey, hey, hey,” she picked his hands up and held them in hers again, “Don’t cry. I didn’t mean to make you cry. I’ve just gone a very long time feeling like no one could ever love me, so it’s hard to believe you could want me that way. And to be fair, it’s not like I ever told you how special and beautiful I think you are. I never really gave you the chance to return the sentiment.”

He leaned his forehead against hers and brought one of his hands to her face, pulling her closer. “But you have. I just wasn’t listening properly. All your songs, it’s so obvious, I’ve just been in my own world and I’m so sorry.” His thumb swiped away moisture from her cheek she wasn’t aware had formed. “I don’t know if I can love you the way you love me, but I’d like to give it my best shot.” He kissed her cheek and pulled her into a proper hug. 

“Ok. If you’re sure.” He pulled back from her shoulder nodding and she continued. “But I don’t think this should be our first date.” His face fell. “Only because I ruined the mood.” She did her best to smile. “You had such a beautiful evening planned and a perfect apology and I threw it in your face, you deserve better.”

He shook his head, “we deserve better.” The waiter came by again to see if they were ready to order, pulling them out of their own little bubble and Harry told him they needed another moment. Once he had gone again he returned to his thoughts. “I think you’re right. Tonight didn’t go exactly as I planned but we should also have it be more special. I should put more effort in and court you properly like you deserve. I just couldn’t wait to see you and tell you how I feel that I forgot about going about this in the right way. You’ve wanted this for so long, you deserve to know it’s a date before you’re on it.”

“I think that sounds great.” She smiled at him and leaned in to kiss his cheek this time. “Now shall we have dinner? I’m actually really hungry.” 

As if on cue her stomach let out a loud unpleasant noise. His eyes widened and shot down to it then lifted back up to hers. 

“Apparently,” he said and she burst out laughing, making him smile too. 

She got up to return to her side of the booth. Once she was sitting back down she noticed he looked disappointed at the space so she slipped her ankle around his under the table while she picked up her menu. As if she was going to order something other than her usual. She always ordered the same thing even though every time they leave she says she’ll try something new next time. 

When the waiter came back they placed their orders and he took their menus. She finally allowed her gaze to return to Harry and he looked positively giddy. 

“What?” she said. 

“I just love you.”

Her heart did somersaults in her chest. He hadn’t actually said those words yet. She picked up his hand again and brought it to her mouth. She placed the most delicate kisses to each knuckle and then lowered it, intertwining their fingers before resting them on the table. 

“I love you too.”

They just smiled at one another for a moment and then his face lit up in something akin to realization. 

“You’re supposed to be leaving this week.” It came out deflated. 

“Yeah. Jack and I only have the studio for three more days. But I don’t have anything else for a couple weeks so I could always stay longer.”

His smile came back. 

“Good,” he said. “I want to take you on our first date.” He paused, looking deep in thought like he was battling his next thought. “I guess since we talked all this out I can go ahead and ask. Do you want to work on my next album with me?”

Her cheeks were going to break from all this smiling after four days of mostly crying, but he was just too cute. 

“Harry, did you think because I was sad I wouldn’t want to work on a project with you?” He nodded and she spoke again. “You should know I’m always going to say yes to you.” She twisted the ring on his middle finger, one she had given him last Christmas. 

“No it’s just that…” he seemed unsure of how to say what he wanted so she gave his hand another gentle squeeze. “Gemma told me it would be inconsiderate to have you work on songs about someone else but to be honest now they’re more likely to be about you.”

“I’m going to have to have a serious talk with my sister-in-law then.” She’s always referred to Gemma as her sister but she didn’t realize she’d never done so in front of him because the look that took over his face was a sight for sore eyes. “Maybe I’m a masochist but I would have still said yes. I don’t want you to ever feel like you can’t ask me to be your collaborator. That’s what brought us together. It’s what we do best. I mean not to sound narcissistic but no one will ever strike gold the way we did with Fine Line.”

He laughed brightly at her comment. 

“Well,” He started, a smirk taking over his face, “hopefully it won’t be the thing we’re best at for long.” He dropped his left eye in a wink and she cackled. 

“You’re insane. Talking about wanting to court me properly then not an hour later you’re trying to get me into bed.” She nudged his shin with her foot playfully. 

Another wave of silence fell over them but it was peaceful and easy because things were always easy with them. Their food came and they ate with little conversation but kept up their playful glances and touches. When they were done eating, Harry stood up and took out his wallet. 

“H, he hasn’t even brought the check.” 

“I know but I can’t wait to get you alone.” He fished what she thought to be way too much money out of his wallet, probably close to £1000 for a meal that was maybe £200, and dropped it on the table. He extended his hand to her and she took it. 

“Do you want to come to mine?” He asked once they were out the door. 

“Mr. Styles! Are you suggesting that we should engage in premarital sex? How scandalous of you.” 

She giggled once she got the words out and he laughed loudly. They stopped for a moment on the sidewalk and he turned to face her. 

“Well, not necessarily but I certainly wouldn’t be opposed.” 

He had her favorite of his smiles plastered on his face and she couldn’t take it any longer. She reached up, planted both her hands on his face and pulled his lips to hers. He let out a squawk of surprise at first and then his hands came to her waist, following her lead effortlessly. He broke them apart after only a moment and she let out a whine of disappointment. 

“Baby, we should really wait until we get home,” he said softly.

Butterflies erupted throughout her whole body. She grabbed his hand again, interlacing their fingers, and smiled up at him. 

“Yeah. Let’s go home.”

[ihrtsevyn]

HOW TO GET THE GIRL: A LOVERS GUIDE

CHAPTER EIGHT: making progress...(726)

WARNINGS: none :)

◃ previous ep. ⊹ masterlist ⊹ next ▹

The next few days went by much faster than anticipated and you found yourself perched in front of the double doors of the school library. You raised your phone to your face watching as another 5 minutes went past.

You and Riki had a brief conversation the night before planning out the time and place of your first study session.

An agonizing 30 minutes went past before you finally decided to enter the library, it was quiet and nearly empty as you looked around to find a comfortable spot to set up.

You didn't want to lack faith in Riki but your expectations of him coming to any of your tutor sessions were quite low. Because of his position as star player on the school's basketball team, he was able to easily wiggle himself out of academic trouble without any harsh punishments and barely a slap on the wrist. You couldn't help but envy him a little because of it.

While pouting at the thought of the unfair treatment, your mind couldn't help but wander to him. His quiet charm, his tall, muscular but slim figure, his alluring goofy smile, and contagious laugh..

An unknowing smile reached your lips as you fiddled with the loose thread of your cardigan. You were so lost in your thoughts that you had failed to notice the approaching figure of the boy you were daydreaming about.

The thud of his backpack slamming onto the table startled you from your fantasies as your eyes looked up to meet the worried gaze of Riki.

"I'm really sorry." he quietly muttered out, lowering himself into an apologetic bow. You opened your mouth to refute his apology but was soon cut-off by his insistent rambles.

"I got stuck at the convenience store, I-um wanted to get you a drink and something to snack on but I didn't know what you liked." He reached into his bookbag before pulling out a strawberry cream soda and a chocolate bar.

Your confused and slightly startled expression softened into a grateful one as you reached out for the treats and placed them in your own bag. "There was also this really long line and-"

"Riki, it's fine." You softly interjected, putting a halt to his jumbled mutters. "Thank you, I really appreciate it." you continued with a gentle smile before gesturing to the seat across you.

He hesitantly nodded in acknowledgment before sitting down. Your eyes hadn't left his figure since you were made aware of his presence but now that he was directly in front of you and less jittery you were able to take in more of his appearance.

His chest was heaving in heavy breaths while beads of sweat gathered at his forehead. "Riki, did you— did you run here?" You asked slightly exasperated, knowing that the closest convenience store to the school was a mere 10 to 15 minute walk.

"Is it that obvious?" He asks, a weak attempt of a laugh escaped as he grabbed the rest of his needed supplies.

"Riki, you didn't have to do that. And you could've texted me to let me know you'd be a bit late."

"I know I didn't have to, I just wanted to." He responded while flipping through his notebook. "And I was going to text you but I didn't want to spoil the surprise so I decided against it." he added on, his eyes briefly leaving the blank page of his notebook to connect with yours.

You froze for a moment. You felt trapped by his gaze until you suddenly remembered the impassive act you were supposed to be playing up. Funnily enough, you had already failed when you started daydreaming about him but your ego refused to let him get off as easy as he was used to.

You cleared your throat before lowering your head to your books. "Let's start at page 56." You quickly suggested, The lingering stare from the boy sitting across you went unnoticed as you tried your hardest to shift your focus onto the task at hand.

Riki mentally gave himself a pat on the back at your expression, being a mix of shocked and fondness at his simple yet thoughtful gesture.

"Making progress." he thought to himself before looking down at his own book, failing to conceal the growing smile on his face with his fist.

TAGLIST: @sakiimeo @sakuxxi @ilyjxdz @artstaeh @rosas-in-the-garden @k1ttylvr @stilesks @enhagvrl @yourssincerely-mimi @rizzanna-soda @saursoob @haechansbbg @nishislcve @winuvs @kyrojackson @suhiiiies-blog @rikisgeef @soobs-things @jumigurumino @ssukiyakii @baribaaari @eleanorheartschishiya @rikibun @seunghancore @wonik1ss @sheepgardenbahhhh @rksbae @lukesboo @moomis @luvvvash @conwunder @yvjw @bunnbam

[eksvaized]

[ Previous ┃ Next ] [ All In One ] part 2, MDNI

Your back presses against the worn-out fabric of the couch as you sit on the floor. Your legs are pulled in, knees drawn up close to your chest in a protective pose. Your fingers tug at the loose threads of your pants. The tiny movements of your hands betray the tension you feel. With a cautious gaze, you stare at the man in front of you as he sifts through your backpack. You want to say something. The words are poised on the tip of your tongue. But you stay silent, your lips pressed together in a tight line. The stranger tosses your belongings back at you, your backpack landing at your feet, when he doesn't find what he's been searching for.

The moment of tenuous silence shatters like glass. Questions start pouring out, all directed at you. He asks for your name, then he demands to know where you come from and what you are doing here. He also wants to know whether you are alone or with someone. Lastly, as his voice hardens and his eyes narrow, he asks why you attacked him.

At first, you refuse to utter a single word. In your stubborn mind, you convince yourself that you don't owe this stranger any explanations. You think that if he wants to know something, first, he should try to be more amiable rather than acting like some creepy investigator. But as he steps closer to you, his imposing frame casting a looming shadow over your curled body, his dark eyes piercing the very core of your being, you realise you have no choice but to play by his rules.

So, first, you answer the last question he asked.

"I thought you were a biter," you mumble, gathering up the courage to meet his gaze.

A puzzled look washes over his face, his head tilting to the side, as if he's not sure what you mean.

"A biter?"

"A dead man, you know, like the ones who roam around the streets, wanting to eat anyone they cross their paths with," you say, rolling your eyes in slight annoyance. You sigh, realising that if you have to explain every answer to him, this conversation is going to drag on longer than you expected.

You continue to speak. After you are done, apparently, he is satisfied with your responses because he gives you back your knife. You hadn't even noticed that he'd been holding it in his hand all this time.

The stranger is still wearing the skull mask. You wish he would take it off because it makes you feel uneasy, as if he's hiding some secret underneath it. But even if you can't see his face, you can tell he is anxious about something by the way he is pacing around the room, circling the couch you are sitting next to, and fiddling with his gloves as his eyes move from one window to another.

After some time, when he turns around and stops paying attention to you, you stand up. Your legs feel numb, but you grab your backpack, throw it over your shoulders and decide it's your cue to leave. The man doesn't seem to have vile intentions, but you don't know what might be going on inside his mind. As soon as you take the first step, trying not to make much noise, the floors creak and he turns around on his heel. His hand seizes your arm, and he sinks his fingers into your flesh, forcing you to halt.

"I'm coming with you," he says, and you think it's a question. But the stern and unyielding tone of his voice tells you otherwise.

You glance over your shoulder. When your eyes meet with his chest, you lift your chin to look at his covered face. You don't want him to follow you. You don't know this man. From what you can tell, your gut feeling whispers to you that he isn't someone you wish to have in your company.

"N-no," you reply, but your voice stutters as you speak. You try to pull your arm out of his grip, but his hold only tightens, refusing to let you go. His nails are still digging into your flesh, causing sharp jolts of pain to travel up your arm.

"I saved your life," he reminds you, as if that should be enough to change your mind.

You are adamant about sticking to your decision, not wanting to bring any strays back home. Maybe if you had met in a different way, in a situation where his and your first instincts weren't to kill each other, you would allow him to follow you. But now, you promise yourself you won't let him go with you.

"After trying to kill me!" You spit back, trying to shake his fingers off again.

He rolls his dark eyes and scoffs, muttering something under his breath that you can't quite understand. When you take a step back, to your surprise, he lets you go, letting his arm fall back to his side.

"You have no choice. I'm coming with you whether you like it or not," he says, a tired sigh eluding him as he exhales. "I need a place to crash for a day or two, and you need someone to help you get back home, wherever that is."

You realise that arguing with him is pointless. Although you still want to stick to your decision, you think he has a point. It would be good to have someone like him by your side, killing any biters who dare to step in front of you. Of course, he could be a serial killer who you are bringing back to your house. Yet you decide to take your chances and bet that he's not. After all, he had one chance to drive your own knife into your skull and he didn't do it.

You gnaw on your bottom lip, twirling the blade in your hands. He watches you, waiting for your answer, but something tells you that no matter what it is, no matter if you don't agree to take him with you, he will go with you, regardless.

"I don't even know your name."

"Simon."

The journey back to your home consumes the entire daylight hours. Not as a result of the extensive distance that you need to cover, but because of your insatiable curiosity and determination to painstakingly explore each and every quaint little shop that you come across. You rummage through the dusty shelves and the forgotten corners. You even dare to venture into the backrooms of these shops. Your heart pounds like a drum against your ribs as you search for any remaining scraps of food that could have been left behind.

This part of town is uncharted territory for you, a place you've never visited before. Despite the risks that come with exploring new areas, you feel safe with Simon by your side. He's always alert and ready to take down any biters that block the way. He seldom speaks. When he does open his mouth, it's usually to give a command, instructing you to move, hide, and stay out of his way as he fights. While you're still curious about this mysterious stranger, you no longer feel the need for conversation. If he handles all the threats that come your way, you are content with his silence.

A couple of times, you even persuade him to extend your scavenging efforts beyond the confines of the shops and into the eerie silence of abandoned homes. The potential to find extra supplies within these desolate dwellings is too appealing to ignore. But after the deafening noise of forcibly prying open a third door echoes through the empty streets, attracting the unwanted attention of lurking biters, Simon puts his foot down. He insists that you both stop your little explorations and start prioritising your safety.

Like you, he has a distinct preference for the knife as his primary weapon of choice. The conversations between you two are few and far between. Yet, during one of those rare exchanges, he reveals to you the reason behind his reluctance to use a firearm.

"It's quieter… and doesn't attract the attention of peop—the dead," he stammers, his voice trailing off into an uneasy whisper. With a practiced motion, he wipes the blade against his rough, worn-out pants, cleaning off the dark, sticky blood. For a fleeting moment, you think he was about to say 'people'. A part of you aches to ask why he wouldn't want to encounter them. After all, you've always believed that finding other survivors in this desolate world would be a ray of hope, a good thing.

If only you could have found a community, a group of survivors, when all your family was still together, you would have preferred to live among them. The idea of a community with shared responsibility and mutual support was comforting. But you weren't able to find any such sanctuary. And as the days turned into weeks and then months, it became too dangerous to go searching. The risk was too great and the home, as desolate as it was, offered a modicum of safety.

You can't shake off the feeling that Simon is holding something back, biting his tongue. You reckon it would be fair if you asked questions now. After all, it is your turn. Yet, for reasons you can't explain, you swallow all your words and keep your mouth shut.

Caught in a whirlwind of your thoughts, you loiter down the worn-out pavement. Your gaze is fixated on the ground beneath you. You move in a rhythm almost akin to a trance, attempting to sidestep the countless fissures and cracks that blemish the otherwise smooth concrete. Suddenly, an urgent grip on your hand shatters your solitary reverie. Startled, you turn to find Simon pulling you to the side. You shoot him a glare, irritation brewing within you. Upon turning your head to face him, your annoyance quickly dissipates as you notice his attention is directed not at you, but somewhere else. Following the path of his intense gaze, your eyes widen in horror.

Before you can even react, Simon steps in front of you. His protective stance forms a barrier between you and the approaching danger. With measured steps, he edges towards the side of the road where a thick cluster of bushes lies. Clutched in his hand is a knife, its blade glimmers ominously. Despite the palpable tension in the air, his demeanour remains unnervingly calm.

An overwhelming wave of confusion washes over you. It's as if the world has tilted on its axis. But then an all-too-familiar sound reaches your ears. It's a low, guttural growl, accompanied by the soft rustling of leaves. As it echoes through the street, your breath hitches in your throat. The chilling realisation hits you like a freight train barrelling down the tracks at full speed. If you had continued your absent-minded stroll, unaware of the danger lurking just a few steps away, a biter would have sprung from the underbrush. With a snarl, he would have lunged at you, sinking his teeth into the first part of your body he could get his grimy hands on.

Without a moment's hesitation, Simon drives his knife deep into the biter's skull. You realise this is the second time he has saved your life. Your mouth is dry. Your throat feels constricted like a tightly coiled snake, so you remain silent. Gratitude overrides your initial irritation at his insistence on tagging along. You're relieved he came with you—his presence has proven to be more than just comforting.

As Simon withdraws his knife, the immediate danger is diffused. The body falls to the ground at your feet, the biter's lifeless eyes staring at you. You take a deep breath, feeling the adrenaline slowly receding. Simon turns to look at you, his eyes filled with a mixture of sternness and concern. Neither of you speaks, yet you're able to understand each other without words.

I'm thinking of creating a tag list for this story. If you'd like to be tagged in the next part, please let me know!

[hermitscratch]

clothing swap ethubs?

Send me a pairing + a prompt! || Accepting

C1: Clothing Swap, Etho/Bdubs, 735 words

The world woke Etho slowly.

The windows were open, breezes airing the room with the smell of spring foliage from Bdubs' blossoming garden and wet dirt from last night's rain. Gently flapping curtains let streams of morning sunlight slip between them, twitters of birdsong heralded what would be a beautiful day, and Etho's eyes fluttered in the peaceful limbo between alert and asleep.

He rolled over, and gave serious consideration to staying put. Bdubs was very passionate about the quality of his sleep, and the bed was as luxurious as mid-game resources could make it. On his back, Etho was already sinking into the plush wool and sponge, but an intrusive twinge of soreness pushed him into full wakefulness.

Okay. Potion first, then the bed could eat him.

Etho sat up. Digging himself from the bed's comfortable clutches took Herculean effort, but it was worth it to feel the way his joints and muscles loosened with his first stretch. Arms over his head and back arched, he breathed deep of the nature carried in by the wind.

There was something else, too, a sweet smell from behind the bedroom door that told Etho exactly where he'd find Bdubs.

If he could just find his clothes.

They hadn't been particularly careful with that last night, things chucked left or right to get them out of the way as quickly as possible. Bdubs must have tidied after he woke up- if draping the shed articles in a pile over the bed's footboard could be considered such- but none of it was what Etho had walked in with yesterday.

It beat a nude stroll, though. He helped himself to a pair of boxers from Bdubs' drawers, and picked through the pile for the rest. Etho didn't have the broad shoulders Bdubs did, the white shirt's V-neck sitting lower than it should. The dark jeans were loose on his waist and short on his legs, the artful rips showing more of his thighs than his knees. It felt silly, but he could handle silly for a couple of hours.

Etho crept from the bedroom on bare feet, the sweet smell joined by the sound of sizzling and the promise of breakfast beckoning him closer to the kitchen. It was mouthwatering, enough that he almost didn't notice that he'd found his missing clothes.

Bdubs' back was to him, manning a pan that now held something savory- pork sausage, if Etho had to guess. He was humming something, slow and familiar, swaying on his feet. His sweatpants- or rather, Etho's sweatpants- were rolled up, the ankle elastic folded to hold the fabric around Bdubs' calves. The compression shirt, black and sleeveless, was doing the work of his absent binder, the neck zipper partway undone.

Etho leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, "I was wondering where my clothes went."

Bdubs startled, but recovered quickly. "My floor, my clothes!" He answered smugly, shooting a cheeky grin over his shoulder and brightening even further as he got a look at Etho, "And I knew you'd wear that if you couldn't find yours."

Ah. "Oh no," Etho chuckled softly, pushing off the doorway. Bdubs turned to face him properly, eyes sparkling as they looked Etho up and down, "You mean I played right into your hands?"

"Eeyep," Bdubs drawled, arms threading around Etho's waist. His voice was soft, chin on Etho's chest, looking up at him with something like awe. "Gods, get a look at you. I'm so proud of me."

Etho snorted, and reached around to take the pan off the heat before draping his arms around Bdubs shoulders. "This really does it for you, huh? An old shirt and ripped jeans that don't fit?"

Bdubs pulled away just enough to squint at him, "First of all, whaddaya mean, an old shirt? Cleo made it for me in Season Nine, I'll have you know!"

"Which was like two years ago now, but y'know..." Etho ribbed.

Bdubs scoffed, "Second of all! You look good in anything! I'll be accepting no complaints, criticisms, or depreciations-"

"What about grievances?"

"Nope!"

"Objections?"

"Overruled! Now, the third and most important thing," Bdubs continued, leaning in again to nuzzle the column of Etho's neck, marred in spots with bruising color. The scratch of morning stubble made Etho shiver, and Bdubs smiled, "It doesn't matter what you're wearing. I like that it's mine."

In that, Etho couldn't agree more.

[imtrashraccoon]

I like the interpretation that Phantom Papyrus actually exists but I also really like toying with the fact that Dust is clearly insane. You can decide for yourself if he's real or not.

@owl-bones

First Day, Previous Day, & Next Day.

Bad Sansuary: Dust - Haunted

Word Count: 1,256

Occasionally, you would witness Dust muttering to himself or fixating on a particular spot in the room for long periods of time. It mostly only happened on his bad days but you had pointedly ignored this behaviour as it probably wouldn't help him feel better if you randomly brought it up.

Today though, you were too curious to ignore it any longer. You really didn't want to offend him either though as it would be insensitive to just ask, right?

"what's the matter with you today? you're not usually this...jumpy."

You blinked in surprise and sharply glanced over at Dust, who was currently sitting lazily at your kitchen table for once. He raised a bonebrow and his mismatched eyelights flicked over you before settling on your face again.

Curse his incredible observation skills!

"Sorry, I was just thinking..."

"that's not good."

You huffed and planted your hands on your hips. "Wow... You must be so proud of yourself," you retorted with a heavy layer of sarcasm in your tone.

He grinned and let out a quiet "heh."

"so, what's on your mind?" he asked again.

You chewed your lower lip and picked at a loose thread on your shirt. "I... I don't want to make you upset. It's a bit of a silly question anyways..." you murmured.

His eyelights narrowed slightly in a skeptical way. "i doubt you could make me upset..."

"I really hope not..." you sighed. "Do you...do you regularly talk to yourself?"

Dust hummed quietly and tapped the table with his gloved fingers. He was silent for a few moments and seemed thoughtful.

"well i can see why you didn't want to ask..." he muttered.

"Yeah... But, you don't have to tell me if you don't want to! I shouldn't have even asked..."

He shrugged and waved you off. "no, i insisted...and i'm not upset either, okay?"

You nodded quietly and glanced down at your socks. This was just as awkward as you'd expected it would be. You wished you could crawl into a hole and never come out as long as you lived.

"i know i'm crazy and i know seemingly talking to myself makes me look worse. however, i'm sort of...haunted by my brother."

You stared at him for a moment, unsure of how to react to that information. "Is he like a ghost...?"

"phantom, he prefers the term phantom." Dust sighed and ran his hand over his face before adding, "i don't get why it matters but he likes the alliteration i guess..."

"He talks to you as well?"

"yeah... he gives me advice and keeps me company..." His voice was a lot quieter now and he couldn't seem to look at you for whatever reason.

"I see..." You glanced around the room but didn't notice anything out of the ordinary. While you could see why Dust had been hesitant to tell you as it really did make him look more than a little unhinged, you were surprised by how casually he'd spoken about it.

He acted as if this was a completely normal thing, and for a moment, you almost believed that he really could be haunted by a phantom of his brother. There were so many types of Monsters and there was so much you didn't know about them. Surely ghosts could exist too, right? Still, it was just too crazy to believe...

He was self aware enough to know how crazy it sounded and yet he had still chosen to tell you. He clearly trusted you to some degree if he was willing to be open about this. So, you decided to play along as it was the least you could do.

"What's your brother's name?" you asked.

Dust turned to you with a look of surprise on his skull. His eyelights flickered across your face, likely looking for any sign that you were weirded out by what he'd just told you.

"you're really something else..." he muttered under his breath. In a louder tone, he responded, "his name is papyrus."

At first you wondered if you'd heard him correctly. Axe had told you about his own brother fairly early into your friendship and you'd learned that his name was also Papyrus. Was it a common name among skeletons?

"Oh, that's interesting. Although, I remember that Axe's brother is also named Papyrus," you commented.

Dust's eye sockets widened and he got a look that practically screamed "oh crap..." He quickly tried to mask it a second later and shrugged.

"it's... you could say it's a common name i guess..."

You could tell he wasn't telling you the truth and raised an eyebrow skeptically.

He tried really hard to maintain a poker face but seemingly couldn't under your intense gaze. With a heavy sigh, he tugged his hood further over his skull and buried his face in his hands.

"sorry...i'd really rather not explain the actual reason behind that right now..."

You placed your hand on his shoulder in a comforting manner. "Hey... I'm not upset, but you don't need to lie to me, okay? I understand you and Axe aren't normal people. There's a lot of things he didn't really want to tell me too. I don't mind though, so long as it isn't something that will affect our friendship or hurt someone, okay?"

He nodded slowly but made no effort to respond.

Deciding to change the subject, you asked a different question. "Can Papyrus see or hear me right now?"

"yeah, he can..."

You glanced around the kitchen again but still couldn't see any sign of the Phantom Papyrus. "I wish I could actually see him face to face so we could communicate properly... Is he doing alright?" you asked quietly.

Dust shifted and you noticed his eyelights flickered to a spot just above your head. He stared intently for a few seconds before the corners of his smile quirked up slightly.

"heh... he says he's doing fine and thank you... also, that it would lovely if you could see him but it's not possible."

You looked up where Dust was focusing and then back to him again. The room felt colder all of the sudden...like there really was another presence that you couldn't see.

"You really care about him, don't you?" you asked in a soft voice.

Dust nodded and smiled at you. The corners of his eye sockets sort of crinkled and for a moment he looked like an entirely different person. Someone who in another life was happy.

"more than anything..." he answered.

You pulled out a chair and sat down next to him. "I wish I could say the same about my family, but I'm happy for you, buddy." You smiled and patted his shoulder affectionately.

He frowned slightly at the mention of your family. "i noticed you never seem to talk to them..."

"Yeah...we don't exactly see eye to eye you could say."

"i can't imagine anyone would."

You opened your mouth to answer before shutting it again. "Was that supposed to be a joke?" you hissed.

"depends, was it funny?"

"Not really."

"then it wasn't really a joke, bean."

You stared at him for several seconds in disbelief. "Are you okay? You've been uncharacteristically happy today..."

"kinda hard not to be when you're around," he hummed.

Was he flirting with you? Or were you just that bad at picking up social cues? There was no way he liked you to that extent!

"Well, in that case, I'm glad you're able to be happy. I like spending time with you, Dust."

[im-getting-help]

okay, but what if:

"and then he said 'doesn't this proves how much of a good friend i am?' it was fucking insane!"

"I don't want to tell you I told you so, but..."

"Farleigh shut-"

"I don't think I will Felix. I told you since the beginning that little goblin was dangerous and you didn't listen, so, I don't think I'll shut up ever again."

Felix sighed, his fingers combed through his hair for the hundredth time since he began the story, his signet ring reflected the sunlight every time he fixed his bangs. "He's not... dangerous. He's... he's insane but he's not dangerous."

"Yeah right. You can't be serious." Farleigh shaked his head and chuckled, but Felix wasn't laughing.

"Felix, you can't be serious."

Felix remained silent, he refused to meet his eyes.

"Are you thinking of forgiven him?"

Felix shrugd, a small movement, almost as he didn't want to acknowledge what was being said.

He knew that it wasn't the smartest move on his part, there was no valid justification, no a single thing could explain why he did what he did, but Felix wanted so badly to forgive, to forget. The memories of that night kept repeating, his brain replaying them like a movie and he was unable to look away, no matter how much it scared him. He felt stuck, fixed in a moment. Something about the way Oliver pleaded, the way he cried, the way he hold onto him, he couldn't take the image of Oliver's eyes filled with tears, real sincere tears.

That wasn't an act, he was sure of it, it was nothing that he ever seen Oliver did before, he was desperate. That right there was truly Oliver Quick, and he didn't want to let go, he couldn't.

"I think he needs help? I don't think he's a bad person, and he isn't dangerous. He said that I was his only friend..."

Felix's hands seem to had a mind of his own, playing with loose threads and picking skin.

Farleigh got up from the couch, patting his pockets to feel for the pack of cigarettes, his hands trembled slightly, although he was sure Felix wouldn't notice.

"You can't smoke in here Farls, mommy is going to end you if she finds out."

"I know, i know. I'm going outside." He retrieved the lighter from his right pocket and the cigarettes from his left while he stride to the entrance of the long gallery. He always hated that rule, "it could ruin the old folios and paintings" said uncle James, even though they could smoke in every other room, as if they didn't have relics or expensive paintings in there too. Right now though, he couldn't be more thankful to find an excuse to leave this conversation.

"Farleigh..."

"I need a smoke, Fee. Let's take a break, you can keep telling me about Ollie-dear later, yeah?"

Felix was already behind him. With the rush Farleigh didn't even hear him get up. He felt one of Felix's heavy hands on his shoulder and even though his outfit was making him sweat he shivered. Felix's movements were slow and gentle, he coudn't be furthest form an aggressive person yet Farleigh felt his feet stuck to the floor. He looked at his hands. still shaking.

"Farleigh, I need you to promise me that you're not going to tell anyone about this, about Oliver."

"'Course. I don't think auntie would be to pleased to hear about it anyways."

Felix grip tighten a little as he turned Farleigh around. Being face to face with Felix this way made Farleigh remember his mother. She teach him about boundaries and limits. They used to spent the afternoon sharing a cup of tea, the only british custom she maintained. "If you don't feel comfortable with someone you can put distance, you should, you have to. If you feel uncomfortable or uncertain about a situation or a person you can and should stay away".

"I mean it Farls. I need to know that you won't tell anyone about Oliver. Not mom or Venetia or I don't know India or Jackson, no one. Not one person Farleigh."

"I promise Felix. I don't want anything to do with it anyways. If I can stay away from Oliver Quick believe me, I will."

"You make it sound like he's a serial killer Farls." Felix scoffed.

"Yeah, well, you know me... I like to dramatize."

Felix had his eyes fixed on Farleigh, eyebrows furrowed in concentration.

"Can I go now?"

"You won't tell anyone?"

Farleigh sighed heavily. He was scared for his cousin, he was scared for his family. Oliver wasn't only dangerous, he seemed to be completely demented, passed the point of reason. He was scared that Felix ended up really hurt because of him.

He was no stranger to Oliver's dark side. He seen it that first day of tutorial, something in between his words, something in the way he smiled, the way he looked at him.

He was also very, very tired. He'd been tired of cleaning Felix's messes for a long time. Since Venetia chose to take a leap year that became two years and then four years he suddenly became Felix new adiviser and bodyguard. He was tired of dealing with every Felix fuck up. Dealing with Felix's ex-friends and ex-girlfriends and ex-whatevers, dealing people who got hurt by Felix's carelessness, by his indifference. He used to scold Felix, telling him to be more careful with his relationships. How funny it is that he found the worst person in all England to take interest in? Farleigh wanted scream, he wanted to slap some reason into him but he knew that no matter what he did or what he said Felix had already made up his mind. He was a big boy now anyways, he could take care of himself.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Felix. I don't think I know an Oliver Quick. Now, can you please let go?"

Felix hand fell to his side, his lips curled up in an attempt at smiling. Farleigh could see the purple colors under his eyes, he hadn't been sleeping well since the party.

"Thank you Farls, I knew you would understand"

Farleigh bit his cheek and nodded before quickly exiting the room, he strode towards the stairs that led to the rooftop.

Mid walk he realized he had to walk pass Oliver's room on the way to the stairs. He was surprised to find an open door when it finally reached the area, he had no intention to cross it of course, but he stood there, observing.

The interior showed a man profoundly asleep, snoring softly, black hair a mess. Farleigh lit his cigarette and observed Oliver, the open curtains let the midday sun in, the room was warm. Oliver looked so innocent wrapped under the covers like this, like a little boy. The antiseptic smell that lingered in the room and was the only thing that reminded him of the reality of who was the person behind the sleeping beauty facade.

Farleigh snickered and walked away, Oliver Quick wasn't his problem anymore.

[alltoowelltom]

a missed chance

tom holland x single mom!reader

from this request here

note: this is a repost! i've been having so many issues with tumblr and posts not showing up so i decided it was best to just re-upload <3

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

Almost three years ago Tom came to the conclusion that he'd missed his chance. The photo of two pink lines on a stick you'd sent to the group chat with no caption was an image that Tom saw whenever he closed his eyes. It haunted him in the middle of the night and clouded his mind when he sat in traffic. It summed up the situation, as he saw it - he'd waited too long and the opportunity for your will-they-won't-they friendship to ever grow into something more had slipped out of his grasp.

He settled into his role as Uncle Tom wonderfully. As the eldest of four he'd always been great with kids and he loved your young son as if he were Tom's own, but the tension in your friendship never quite fizzled out.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

Your phone rang as you sat on a park bench, watching Alfie play in the sandbox just a few meters away.

"Hello?"

"Love, you've got to start checking the caller ID before you answer." Tom chastised lightly on the other end of the line.

"Tom!" you squeal, drumming your feet on the concrete ground. "Does this mean you've landed?!"

"I'm touching solid ground," he confirms. "Back in the land of hope and glory."

"Good," you grin. "I've missed you."

"Yeah?" you don't miss the hope in Tom's voice and if you could see him, you'd notice the crinkles by his eyes that only appeared when he received really good news.

"Does that mean I can come over this evening?" he wonders aloud.

"I wouldn't complain," you shrug. "It's your first night back though, you don't want to see your family or anything?"

"How many times do we have to have this conversation?" Tom shakes his head. "You and Alfie are family."

As if being summoned, Alfie begins to whine from the sandbox, seemingly done with the plastic shovel in his hand as he holds his arms in the air, wanting to be picking up by you.

"Alright, I've got to go but I'll see you tonight," you say. "Talk soon."

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

"How's my little man?" Tom asks, scooping Alfie up as he runs towards where Tom stands by the front door. He swings Alfie through the air, spinning around before bringing the giggling toddler to rest on his hip.

"He's grown!" Tom remarks. "You're almost too big for me to do that." He tells Alfie, poking him playfully in the tummy.

Tom feels stupid for not realizing how much bigger Alfie's gotten in the last four months since Tom's been away filming. Your FaceTime calls usually took place while Tom was in hair and makeup, right before you went to bed back in London and by that time Alfie was more often than not fast asleep already, so Tom hadn't seen much of the little guy. He wanted to kick himself for once again kidding himself into believing that you and Alfie existed in some sort of time-warp, lives permanently still until Tom came home to London. Of course you guys had your own little life together. You didn't need him, right?

"Yeah, he's getting older by the day," you laugh, wiping your flour-covered hands on your jeans as you step into the hallway. Tom wraps you into a side hug with his free arm, making sure not to squash Alfie between you two, who's fiddling with a loose thread on Tom's sweater.

"Alfie's just had dinner, do you want any?" you call over your shoulder as Tom follows you into the kitchen.

"Hmm, what's on the menu, chef?" He chuckles, placing Alfie down on the carpet and ruffling the boy's hair.

"It's the extremely gourmet and elegant meal of boxed Mac and cheese." You answer.

"Ooh, yes please!" Tom calls as he wanders into the living room.

He's always felt so comforted in your flat. It’s always felt a mile away from the stresses and worries of Tom's life as an actor, and more importantly it's always felt like you. Despite the baby bouncer hanging in the doorway, the discarded toy stuffed behind the TV and a few picture books strewn across the sofa it retains the features that made it yours like the vinyls on display above the record player Tom bought for your birthday one year and the mini chalkboard with a half rubbed out score from a game of beer pong from before everything changed. There was now a hastily scribbled reminder to 'buy teething rings' over the top.

"Sorry about the mess," you say, gently kicking a few brightly colored building blocks out the way. Tom helps by stacking the picture books from the couch into a little pile on the coffee table. "I was going to have a tidy up when Alfie and I came home from the park, but you know how it is."

He doesn't know how it is, not really. As close as you are, he's always slightly on the outside when it comes to you and Alfie, reduced to an uncle just the same as Uncle Haz or Uncle Tuwaine. But he wants to be more than that. He wants to be your partner in this, someone to lend a hand when the house gets messy or a shoulder to cry on when things get tough. For being a web-slinging superhero during the day, he wishes he was brave enough to tell you how he felt.

"Don't even worry about it." He says instead, smiling in thanks when you pass him a serving of mac and cheese in a colorful plastic bowl and a plastic spoon.

"I ran out of real cutlery." You laugh as he looks at it quizzically, one eyebrow raised. "You know, no one tells you how much living with a toddler changes you," you say. "I haven't used adult cutlery in about a week, and just the other day I found myself eating a sucky yogurt for dinner while watching Cocomelon. Alfie wasn't even in the room."

Tom laughs as he spoons the golden pasta into his mouth.

"It sounds to me like you're desperately in need of some adult interactions." He hears how it sounds as soon as he says it and hopes you don't think he's being creepy.

"Oh God, don't even get me started, " you say. "I haven't gotten any sort of adult interactions in like, a year. No wait…two years and nine months."

"Two years and nine months?!" Tom gasps, glancing at Alfie out of the corner of his eye who sits on the carpet playing with a toy train track Tom had given him last Christmas.

"Welcome to motherhood." You grimace.

Tom puts his empty bowl on the coffee table, trying to figure out how to word his next question.

"Do you ever get…lonely?" He asks delicately. "I don't mean physically, I mean actually."

You shrug, pulling a blanket over your lap.

"I mean, yeah. It's just that between work and Alfie, I don't have time to go out and meet people, you know?"

Tom nods thoughtfully, letting you continue as he gently tugs the edge of your blanket, pulling it over his legs too.

"And if I do meet someone, it's hard because sometimes if I tell them about Alfie it's a deal breaker, or if they're okay with it I'm still not comfortable bringing people in and out of his life. If someone's in his life I want them to be in for good, right?"

"Yeah, I get what you mean," Tom sympathizes, placing a hand on your leg.

"I wouldn't change having him for the world," you say quickly. "I just sometimes wish I had someone to talk to who doesn't speak only in Bob the Builder references."

"I'm always here to talk to, lovie." Tom reassures you. "Can we fix this? Yes we can!" He giggles and you laugh too, pushing his shoulder with yours.

"I'm really glad you're home, Tommy." you say quietly, putting your hand over his where it still rests gently on your leg and rubbing small circles into his skin.

"It's good to be back." He agrees. His eyes meet yours and you both lean in ever so slightly. He picks his hand up off your leg and slowly brings it up, only to be interrupted by a shriek from Alfie as one of his trains crashes off the track. You both jump away, Tom's hand hovering in mid-air as the only proof of the moment that might have happened, frozen on its collision course to your cheek.

You avert eye contact, standing up and reaching for Alfie.

"I'm sorry-" Tom starts but you shake your head, eyes shining.

"No don't worry, it's okay." You say. "Uhm, do you want to help with bathtime?"

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

"Hello?" Tom calls down the hallway, kicking the front door shut behind him. There's no answer but he hears chatter and laughter from in the distance. He deposits the cake on the kitchen counter, breathing a sigh of relief upon discovering he'd gotten it from the bakery to your house in one piece.

He steps out of the French doors, immediately grinning as he takes in the scene before him. In the back garden Alfie's second birthday party is in full swing. A handful of toddlers play on the mini slide set you'd set up, their parents hovering nearby and chatting. He assumes these must be some of Alfie's friends from daycare. He spots Alfie almost immediately, running (or waddling) around with the top half of his face painted to look like a Spider-Man mask, clearly having the time of his life.

"Tom!" you spot him standing on the deck, excusing yourself from a conversation with a few parents and heading over to him.

"I'm so glad you made it," you say, giving him a quick hug. He lingers for a second, basking in the feeling of being able to hold you close. He lets you go with only a slightly wistful smile.

"Did you get the cake?" you ask hopefully.

"Of course," he says, rolling his eyes but taking you by the arm and leading you into the shade of the kitchen. "It's in here."

He opens the cake box, grinning as you gasp happily.

"It's perfect! Thank you so much for picking it up." you say, giving him a quick one sided hug and he gulps.

"You look pretty." he murmurs before he can stop himself, taking in the glittery dress you'd chosen for the occasion.

"What was that?" you blink, turning your head away from where you were putting two blue candles in the frosting and making eye contact with Tom.

"Uh, I said I love this city." Tom tries to save it, suddenly losing confidence as usual. "Glad to be back, y'know?"

"Okay?" you nod. "'s good to hear."

･*:༅｡

Tom hangs back as Alfie blows out his candles with a little help from you, allowing himself to hide in the small crowd of toddlers and parents. He'd been so confident driving up to your house with Alfie's cake safely in the passenger seat, even going as far as blasting Enchanted by Taylor Swift with the windows down to prove to himself that today was the day. He had to admit how he felt for so many years or it would truly eat him alive. But now here he was, leaning against the wall at a two-year-old's birthday party and feeling like the biggest wimp in the known universe. He silently excused himself to the bathroom, locking the door and knocking his head on the mirror. Come on, Tom!

"Hey," Tom said, tapping you on the shoulder.

･*:༅｡

"Oh shit," you say, whipping around and dropping the pile of paper plates you'd been collecting up. "You scared me, Tom! I thought everyone had left already."

"Sorry," Tom laughed gently. "No I was just in the bathroom. Want some help cleaning up?"

"You were in the bathroom for an hour?" you ask worriedly. "Jesus, is everything okay?"

"Oh, everything's brilliant." He smiles at you. "I was just thinking."

"I didn't know you knew how to do that." you grin at him. He breathes out, glad some of your familiar banter had returned.

"I have to tell you something." he says before he can think too much about it.

You nod, smiling gently for him to continue as you clean up.

"Can you…can you stop doing that for a minute?" he asks shyly, taking the stack of paper plates from you and putting them down. "This'll only take a minute and then I'll be gone, promise."

He hesitates before taking both your hands in his. You lean into his touch, trying to ignore the electricity that radiates from where your hands meet.

"Do you remember that night at the pub a few years ago?" he asks slowly. "It was the night they were doing the trivia night on pop culture and you won our team all those points for knowing the One Direction questions."

"Yeah," you laugh. "Once again the 1D obsession saved all of our asses."

"And then later that night," Tom continues, his voice wavering. "You uh- you found out about Alfie and you sent that picture of the test to the group chat."

You nod, remembering that night all too well.

"I was outside your house that night." he blurts out. Well, I've done it now, he thinks.

"What the fuck, Tom." you laugh. "You got all serious just to tell me you were stalking me almost three years ago?"

Tom groans.

"Will you let me finish, love?" he asks. "You left before any of us. And the boys all hyped me up, and then I left too. I came to your house because I had to tell you how I felt. And then before I could even knock, you sent that photo to the groupchat. And then how could I possibly add more to the situation and tell you that I've been in love with you since we met?"

Your eyes widen after his confession and you slowly take your hand out of his. Tom swears he's never heard a silence quite this loud before, and he takes it as a bad sign.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he babbles. "I just had to tell you because I couldn't keep lying to you and pretending that everything I see or think about doesn't remind me of you."

"No, Tom." you stop him, gently placing one finger over his lips to shush him. "It's just that I don't really know how to respond to that. I mean, you want me? You actually want me?"

"Darling, you could punch me in the eye and I'd still want you." Tom tries to ease the situation and you giggle. You wrap your arms around him gently, breathing in his scent.

"Is this okay?" you ask hesitantly.

"It's more than okay." Tom confirms, copying your actions. He nuzzles his head into your hair, inhaling the sweet smell of your conditioner that he's only ever been able to admire from afar before now.

You nudge him ever so slightly away from you and tip your head up a tiny amount so you're looking at him. He's been so brave, being the first one to make a move so you feel it's only fair that it's your turn to break the ice. Chest flush against his you close the gap between your mouths, meeting his lips in a soft kiss.

Tom all but melts into the kiss, holding you firmly. There's no way he was letting the chance slip away again, now that he was right where he wanted to be.

⭑･ﾟﾟ･:༅｡.｡༅:ﾟ:*:✼✿

tysm for reading! reblogs are always appreciated and really help a writer out <3

[girlfailure-smut-hour]

The Only Place You Could Go

Nsfw content MDNI

Characters: Lucifer X GN!Reader

CW: Oral (Receiving,) Penetration (Receiving.) Reader's gender is not mentioned, ambiguous gentials.

A/N: I'm bad at planning so have a second Luci fic in a row. I've been thinking about this one for a while. It's my last post before kinktober, so enjoy some more casual stuff while it lasts. MC shows up on Luci's doorstep after a year of not talking following an explosive breakup. ~1500 words.

Please check out my fic masterlist <3

It'd been a year since you'd talked to Lucifer. The breakup burned as bright as the relationship. White-hot rage and slamming doors. Shouting matches erupted at the slightest provocation.

It was strange then, that you found yourself at his doorstep again. Everything was going wrong. It felt like your life was falling apart and this was the one place you could think to go. He was the one person you could turn to.

Your clasped fist hovers inches from the door as you try to summon the strength to knock. What will he say? You think. But in your heart you know he's the only one.

When you find the courage to knock, you almost regret it as soon as your knuckles hit the wood. Soon enough you hear footsteps from within and you know it's too late.

Your heart is pounding as he opens the door. A thousand feelings flash across his face. He does his best to hide it, but it's something that only you could have noticed, having learned him so well in the past.

"Can… I help you?" He asks. He's clearly frustrated, but trying to play it cool.

You try to respond, but your eyes begin to water unexpectedly.

His annoyance fades quickly, seeing the state you're in. He steps out of the doorway and says, "Why don't you come inside?"

He sits you on the couch in the living room and returns shortly with a comforting drink for you.

"What's happened?" He asks. "It must be bad for you to show up here." He sits next to you on the couch while you sip your drink.

You start to explain. How everything is falling apart and nothing seems to be going right. Before you know it your eyes are watering again.

"Luci, it's just terrible," You say as the tears start to fall.

He pulls you close, resting your head on his chest as he strokes your hair. He holds you there for a minute while the sobs pour out of you and when you start to wind down to sniffling he says, "You're enough. You're amazing and I'm so proud of you."

He takes your face in his hands and tilts it up. Looking into your bleary eyes, he wipes your tears away. Your breath catches in nervousness. He strokes your cheek again before leaning in for a kiss.

You don't know what to think at first. You freeze in panic, though it feels so comforting and familiar. It feels good. His scent, his taste; it's exactly what you needed.

You sit up and start to kiss him back. Pushing into it, you feel him match your intensity. Soon enough, you're grabbing, and scratching, and groping at him with feral attraction. As you climb into his lap, you start tugging at his clothes.

He pulls away and for a second you share a look filled  with burning passion before he scoops you up in his arms and carries you off to the room.

As he sets you on the bed, it's painfully quiet in here. All you can hear is the excited shuddering breaths that escape from yourself and Lucifer. Laying on your back, you look up as he stares down at you with some mixture of lust, aggression, and compassion.

He crawls up on the bed and brushes your hair out of your face before kissing your salty cheeks. With his hand on your cheek, his lips drift over to yours, locking you into a tender, sweet kiss.

Pulling away, he starts to unbutton his shirt, and you begin to remove your own clothes. He starts off methodically, but as each button comes loose, he grows more impatient, nearly ripping the thread in his fervor. As the last button comes undone, he moves down to his pants, pulling them down quickly as though the mere contact of the fabric with his skin burned.

He lays on his side next to you, and kisses you, caressing your cheek with his strong hand before it drifts down your torso. Soft, loving fingers trace your skin as his tongue gently flicks against yours. It’s silent in the room save for shuddering, breathy moans, quiet whimpers, and the smacking of lips as you feel each other’s bodies, just happy to touch each other again.

He reaches the space between your legs after some time, and you gasp faintly as he begins to rub you. Your hands, once locked around his neck, have drifted down to his cock, which you stroke softly and lovingly. You hold there for a while before pulling away ever so slightly and whispering against his lips. “Oh Luci, what happened to us?”

“Does it matter now?” He asks. “We’re here, and it feels right.”

“I don’t want to ever be away from you again. I want to lay here with you forever. Until we die. Until we’re overtaken.”

His eyes open halfway and the two of you share a deep, loving stare before locking lips again. The kisses get deeper, heavier, and you stroke his cock in steady pumps while he moans into your mouth. Eventually, the tension becomes unbearable, and he flips you on your back, pinning you by the wrists. For a brief moment your eyes meet before he quickly brings his lips to your neck. He presses sweet little kisses onto your skin, taking care to find every inch of skin left untouched. He cherishes your body in a way he never has before.

He lingers at your legs for some time, slowly placing wet little kisses on the tops of your thighs before moving inward. Each kiss is methodically placed to work you up before he even touches you so that when he does, it will be explosive.

And it is

His tongue flicks against you with fervent aggression, demanding your pleasure. You shriek in pleasure, which amplifies his ferocity. Growling, and pushing harder against you, he cherishes each moan and whimper he earns.

He wraps his arms around you, gripping your legs and pulling you closer as you try to inch away from the intensity.  It’s almost unbearable the way he assaults your senses without giving you room to breathe. The cresting orgasm hits you harder than you expect and as it falls over you, it brings on convulsions and shrieks of pleasure that you know Luci will enjoy.

In no time at all, he's above you again. He hooks his arms through your legs, bending you in half and pointing your ass up at him. You didn't know you had this kind of flexibility within you, but of course Luci would be able to find it.

You can feel his cock rubbing up against your hole as he gazes into your eyes. There's complicated feelings swimming around behind them, but he does well to hide them. He pushes into you without breaking eye contact, watching you squirm as his length parts your walls.

Despite how clearly impatient he is, he takes his time easing into you, making sure you're ready. He groans as his length pushes further into you, and clenches his jaw as he buries the base of his cock in you. You can feel the aggression building up in him as he starts to pull out, and as he thrusts back in, it nearly knocks your breath out.

He fucks you like he used to hate-fuck you. It's aggressive and feral, perhaps remembering all the times you fought. Maybe he's upset that you came to him of all people when you had no one else, but at the same time, love still burns in his heart and it aches for your sadness. It's messy and complicated, and it all comes out in the way he makes love to you.

Each thrust down into you is more intense than the last, and though Luci grunts for the most part, you can tell from those sounds that he's getting close.

"Cum inside of me Luci," You beg as your fingernails find purchase in his back. He smirks, but doesn't bother to ask how you knew. He just thrusts, each time a little harder, bringing you closer as well.

You bite into his shoulder as you feel his cock throbbing inside you, pumping his seed deep inside you. "Go ahead," He whispers in your ear, "cum for me." You dig deeper in with your nails as another orgasm washes over you.

You shudder and convulse as he fills you up, letting out a long moan. He can barely hold your legs back as they shake violently in your pleasure. When the orgasm finally subsides, he releases your legs and you melt into a puddle of post-orgasmic bliss.

Luci pulls his cock out, and you feel his cum start to leak out of you, dripping down between your ass cheeks. He pushes it back in with his fingers and lays next to you, pulling you onto his chest.

"That was sooo good," You moan as you listen to his pounding heart. He traces lines on your shoulder and plants a kiss on the top of your head. His chest heaves with a heavy contented sigh as you enjoy his warmth.

[purplefangirl42]

For your prompts requests, how about some Cal and Kanan as padawans together? Or even meeting again as adults..whichever sparks your muse.

I think Kanan is a little older, but that doesn't necessarily translate as they would not be friends as kids. I just love his sort of harder sarcasm balanced against Cal's sweeter nature.

Thank you for the request! I'm sorry this took so long and I thank you for your patience. I hope it's what you were looking for! 💜

Tags: Padawan Buddies, Reunions, Survivor Solidarity, Mentions of Grief

Dividers by @eloquentmoon

Cal twiddled with his padawan braid as he watched the traffic fly by outside the large window. Wanting to find a place where he could think without being disturbed, he had climbed up here to this window ledge. If his master looked hard enough, he would find him, so he wasn’t worried about someone thinking he was missing. Although, Cal wasn’t sure if anyone would notice if he did go missing.

With the war raging across the galaxy, it seemed there were always more important things. He knew his master had been hesitant to take him on as a padawan in the middle of the war, and sometimes Cal wondered if that caution should have been headed. He would have been fine to wait in the crechè for a while longer if it meant he could have a master that would be able to designate more time to him. 

Master Tapal had mentioned bringing him along on missions, in order to continue his training in the field, but once again he had hesitated. Cal knew he was younger than most human apprentices, and even those older than him had been kept back from the war as long as possible. One in particular he knew about was Caleb Dume. He was only a little older than Cal himself was, but he had just started going on missions with his master, Depa Billaba. 

Cal both envied the other boy and had pity for him. He knew deep down that they all belonged at the temple, playing and learning with their fellow students. One of the crechè masters had said something along the lines of “being forced to grow up too fast”, but he figured that was part of life sometimes.

“What are you doing up there?” a voice from below asked.

Cal looked down and saw the very boy he had just been thinking of, as if he had been summoned by his thoughts.

“Just thinking,” he responded, turning his attention back to the window. “This seemed like the best place to do so.”

“Is there room for me up there?”

Cal gestured to the other side of the large window ledge, offering the space to the boy below. After a few moments of contemplation on his route, Caleb seemed to find the way up to him and was soon clambering up onto the ledge to settle in the designated empty spot.

“What are you doing out and about?” Cal asked. “Shouldn’t you be training with your master?”

Caleb shrugged and fiddled with a loose thread on his tunic.

“She’s busy right now, so she sent me to go do my own thing. I was on my way to the library when I noticed you were up here.”

“My master is busy too,” Cal said, letting out a heavy sigh. “He’s always busy.”

Caleb gave him a look of pity, which Cal wasn’t sure he appreciated. 

“I know it sounds like I’m whining. I just wish this stupid war would be over so things can go back to normal.”

“I think everyone wishes that,” Caleb said. “It would have been even better if it had never started in the first place.”

Cal couldn’t argue with that. Maybe he would still be in the crechè. Although, he wondered if that meant he wouldn’t have met Master Tapal. He had heard there was a connection between masters and padawans that existed even before they started training together, so perhaps he would have ended up with him anyways. He also knew there were much bigger problems than where his training would have gone.

“I don’t understand why there needs to be so much violence over something as stupid as political disagreements,” Cal said. “Why should people’s different views be a reason to hurt innocent people and drag the entire galaxy into a devastating war?”

Caleb shrugged again and looked out the window at the passing traffic.

“I think it’s a lot more complicated than that. Something that we as padawans are too young and inexperienced to understand.”

“I’m told that I’m too young to understand a lot of things,” Cal said.

Caleb smiled and turned back towards him. 

“That’s why we gotta learn what we can so we can understand the things grown-ups think we don’t. They won’t always be around to help us, so we have to learn to fend for ourselves if the situation calls for it.”

Cal shuddered at the thought of dealing with anything serious on his own without his master there to guide him. While he knew it was an inevitable part of life, he wasn’t in a hurry to get to that point. It seemed that his alone time for thinking had taken him down a path that he wasn’t interested in exploring right now.

“You wanna go get some treats from the mess?” he asked. “I’m tired of sitting up here and I’m hungry.”

“Sure!” Caleb said, shifting in place so his legs dangled over the edge. “I’m hungry too.”

The two boys jumped from the ledge, using the force to slow their descent towards the floor. Cal had to admit that Caleb was better at it than he was, his landing a lot smoother and without stumbling. The pair of them walked off down the hall, sharing what kind of treats they hoped to find in the mess when they arrived.

Kanan picked his way through the market, his eyes flicking from face to face. He always had to have his guard up when he was on a new planet, never knowing who he might run into. He doubted there were many people that would recognize him, but you could never be too careful. He had argued with Hera about which of them should go out to get the supplies, an argument that he had lost when she said she had some repairs to make on the Ghost. Which was how he found himself in his current location.

As he perused the goods in the stands he passed, Kanan made sure to keep one eye on the crowd around him. He stopped at one stand that was selling meilooruns, checking their price. Maybe if he brought a few back for Hera, she would soften up a bit more. He knew she liked them. Just as he was about to ask the owner of the stand to help him, he noticed someone in the crowd. 

A tall man with a shock of red hair was pushing through the crowd a short distance from him. A long scar ran down his face onto his neck. Overall, he seemed a bit worse for wear. A look that Kanan recognized from his stints in that same position. Something about the man seemed familiar to him, something he couldn’t quite figure out. 

Do I know him?”

Kanan wiped that thought from his mind as soon as it appeared. He didn’t know anyone. Everyone he once knew was gone. His master, the order, and all of his friends. The man he had noticed turned to look at him and their eyes met for a moment before the other man turned away, shaking his head. 

Does he know me?

Kanan felt a surge of hope swell up in his chest as he looked at the man again. Red hair, freckles, familiar features. He was transported to a time in his memories when he knew a kid with similar qualities, a fellow padawan. Cal Kestis.

It can’t be him. He’s dead.

Kanan squashed the flicker of hope down and turned his attention back to the fruit stand in front of him. He didn’t dare let his heart run away with the hope that there were more survivors, that some of his friends may have made it out. Hoping was dangerous. There was no way Cal could have survived what had happened at the end of the war, he had only been a kid.

So were you.

Passing over some credits, Kanan grabbed the bag of fruit from the vendor and walked in the opposite direction from where he had seen the red haired man standing. It was better to just walk away and forget about the whole thing.

Cal bounced in his seat as the Mantis entered the orbit of Yavin 4. He was anxious to meet the members of the Rebellion that he had heard so much about. Especially the Spectres of Phoenix Squadron. He had heard rumors that there was a pair of Jedi among the group, a master and apprentice. 

“Kid, would you quit?” Greez grumbled beside him. “You’re practically vibrating.”

“He’s excited. Which is understandable,” Merrin said, coming up behind him and placing a calming hand on his shoulder. “Greez is right though, Cal. You really are vibrating.”

Cal gave her a small smile and placed his hand over hers on his shoulder.

“It’s not everyday you find another survivor,” he said. “I’ve been hearing so many rumors and I’m anxious to know if there’s any truth to them.”

“I understand,” Merrin said. “If I knew that any of my sisters were still out there, I would do anything I could to reunite with them.”

Cal squeezed her hand before releasing his grip and reaching forward to help Greez complete the landing cycle. Once the ship was settled, he took a deep breath and stood from his seat, walking out of the cockpit. BD-1 beeped inquisitively from the holotable, checking if he was alright.

“I’m fine BD, just nervous.”

The droid jumped off the table and landed on Cal’s back securing a grip on his shirt. The door opened as the ramp extended down to the ground. As Cal walked down the ramp, he could see several figures waiting for him. A green-skinned Twi’lek stepped forward, extending a hand for him to shake.

“Welcome Cal Kestis. It’s good to finally meet you,” she said. “My name is Hera Syndulla.”

Cal shook her offered hand and nodded in greeting.

“It’s nice to meet you. I’ve heard a lot about your squad and the good you’ve done against the Empire.”

Hera raised an eyebrow at his words, obviously surprised to hear them.

“Really? I wouldn’t think Saw would have anything good to say about us. He doesn’t really agree with the way we do things.”

“He can be a little difficult to get along with sometimes,” Cal agreed. “But he spoke highly of some of your crew, specifically a pair of Jedi. I was hoping to meet them.”

Hera gave him a small smile and gestured for him to follow her across the landing zone. As the pair of them walked together, Cal noticed that Hera seemed a bit nervous herself.

“I didn’t tell them you were coming,” she said. “I wanted to make sure you were the real thing before I got Kanan’s hopes up. He’s been looking for other surviving Jedi for so long and I didn’t want him to be disappointed.”

Cal understood what she meant about having hope and then having it be destroyed. He had followed many leads to only have them end in disappointment and grief. He had been ready to give up on his mission to find other Jedi, thinking that it was impossible for him to come across any other survivors at this point. But when Saw had said he knew these Jedi personally and that they were the real deal, he had resigned himself to one last truth searching trip.

“Here we are,” Hera said, leading him to a small area surrounded by large crates. 

A group of people sat around talking; an older man, a man with a ponytail and mask, a young woman that looked to be wearing Mandalorian armor, a young man in orange, and to Cal’s great surprise, a Lasat. The sight of the Lasat caused Cal’s heart to clench in his chest. Although he had long ago come to terms with his grief for his master, there was always something that could bring back the pain in small amounts. 

“Everyone, I’d like you to meet a very special guest,” Hera said. “This is Cal Kestis. He’s a purge survivor and has been fighting alongside Saw and his band of fighters for the past few years.”

Everyone but the man in the mask gave Cal a wave in greeting. He returned their hellos with a polite nod to each person, but when he got to the last man, he was surprised to find him reaching for him. Cal took the man’s offered hand, which clutched at his own with strength he was not expecting.

“Cal? Is that really you?” the man asked. “You’re alive?”

“As far as I know, but I do have a friend that can bring back the dead. She could have done something like that without telling me,” Cal joked, trying to ease the tension surrounding them.

The man before him reached up and pulled the mask from his face, revealed clouded eyes slashed through with an angry red mark. Something about his face seemed familiar to Cal, but he couldn’t put a finger on it.

“Kanan?” Hera called out softly. “Do you know him?”

Cal couldn’t remember knowing anyone named Kanan. He reached out with the force to touch the other man’s mind. It was both foreign and familiar to him, like someone he had once known but had gone through much change and heartache.

“I used to be called Caleb,” the man Hera had addressed as Kanan said. “Caleb Dume.”

Cal felt all the air leave his lungs. Never in all these years had he thought that his friend could still be alive. In his search, he had found a record of Master Billaba’s death and had assumed that Caleb had died along with her on Kaller. 

“Caleb…you’re alive?”

The man nodded, a smile forming on his lips. Before he could stop himself, Cal surged forward and wrapped his arms around his childhood friend, holding him tightly against him. To his surprise, his embrace was returned. The two of them stood locked in their embrace for a few moments before Cal pulled away to look at him again.

“You know, I think I saw you a number of years ago in a market,” Kanan said. “I couldn’t let myself believe it was you at the time so I walked away. I didn’t think you were still alive.”

Cal thought back to a similar experience he had been through. He had been in a market once and had a strange encounter with a man across the crowd. He had assumed the man had recognized him from his wanted posters and quickly left the scene. He had buried the feeling that he knew the man deep inside himself, focusing on getting away from the market and the danger it presented.

“That was you,” he said. “I remember that day. I thought you were going to turn me in.”

Kanan laughed softly and shook his head.

“Two Jedi find each other and the first thing we do is run away.”

“Oh how times have changed,” Cal said. “But I have no intention of running away this time.”

Kanan placed a hand on Cal’s shoulder and gave it a squeeze. 

“That’s good to hear. I have many things to tell you.”

Cal laughed at that statement.

“As do I. You wouldn’t believe the things I’ve been through the past few years.”

Kanan led Cal over to a box to sit down before gesturing to the people around them, formally introducing them to him. He called over the younger man in orange, presenting him as his padawan, Ezra Bridger. 

As the group talked about their experiences, Cal couldn’t help but to think about his own crew from the Mantis. This group seemed to have a similar sense of family and companionship that he had experienced with Merrin, Greez, BD-1, and Cere. He was glad that Caleb, or Kanan as he was now known as, hadn’t been alone for all the years they were apart. And now that they had found one another, neither one of them would be alone again.

[joohanisms]

idk if you wrote about this before or not but thoughts on taking junhans virginity 😭😭😭

i haven't!!!!!!! tysm for the ask so i have an excuse to <33

(half written before i went ia)

mmm first of all i think hed actively look for someone inexperienced to date while hw himself was inexperienced

less space for disappointment yknow how could hw disappoint you when you kinda just .. dont know better literally

but then he ended up w you <3 who actually does have some experience and its kinda nervewracking for him, he's not gonna lie

he's been putting it off for so long – sure, it only took a couple of dates for you to make out and your hands to wander. the way he tentatively gripped your ass made you want him kind of desperately.

but it never went past that. a while later, when the topic of making things official came up, his cheeks blushed a deep red while he looked down at his feet.

"ah, before we, you know, start dating for real... i thought you should know." and fuck, you think. there it goes. there's the catch. "i'm not too... experienced. actually, i've never had sex before. i don't want you to be disappointed if we get to it and i'm not any go–" his mouth is sealed shut as you kiss him firmly, hands cradling his face.

"you're stupid. i don't care. nothing of what you just said would ever make me lose interest," he wants to avoid your eyes, hide his face, but the way you're holding his flaming cheeks in place won't let him. "at most, it just makes me happy i'll be your first."

and since then, he's been avoiding – more like procrastinating, to be fair – getting sexual with you. the most you've done so far was dry humping each other on his sofa while his apartment was empty (that is, until one of his roommates opened the front door and he jumped out of his skin).

you don't want to push him, so you wait for him to come to you.

(but if anyone asked you whether you were fingering yourself in the shower thinking about him, you wouldn't be able to deny it.)

the next time he got to escape from his dorm and visit you and your blessedly empty tiny apartment, he has you on his lap, the movie playing on your laptop long forgotten.

you didn't notice anything before – he was the same hyeongjun as always – but now you can see how his hands are shaking and how he keeps taking deep breaths seemingly out of nowhere.

you detach your lips from his, studying his face. this makes him more nervous, the poor thing. did he do something wrong? is he this easy to read?

"hyeongjun, are you okay? you look like you're going to pass out." you try to leave the comfortable seat that is his thighs, but his hands shoot up and grab your waist, holding you down.

"hyeongjun. you're shaking. have you eaten? let me grab you a cup of wa–"

"i'm fine."

"really? what did you have for lunch? did you have enough? or did you have too much?" you can't help but worry for him. he's already a skinny guy, but you can't be too careful knowing how much time he spends online.

"i swear i'm fine! i'm just..." he trails off, looking at everything in your room but you. one of his hands leaves your waist to fiddle with a loose thread on your comforter. once again, you wait for him to come to you – he likes that about you, how you leave him to find ways to express himself instead of dragging it out of him. his tone is soft when he eventually finishes, "i'm just nervous, that's all."

you cup his cheek in an act of comfort, looking at him like he's some kind of baby bunny, small and defenseless. he finds he doesn't mind it too much.

"nervous about what, baby? what's on your mind?"

"i was thinking," he finally lets go of your waist to play with his fingers, "maybe it's about time we, uh, you know, fuck."

jesus christ. your tummy does a backflip at his wording.

"you know i don't mind if we don't, right? i'm fine with how things are now." you slide your hand down his neck and shoulder, and some braincell vaguely makes him think that you're not doing anything to help him go against having sex.

"but i want to," his response is eager and he backtracks, "if you want it too, i mean."

your mind is so clouded with the thought of not only having him, but also to have you be his first, that you don't even respond before you're pressing your lips to his again.

" of course i do."

[moodymisty]

Sort of part 2 to this request but not really

Author's Note: @1stunseeliefaelass So no joke I swear my pigeon walked over my laptop's touchscreen and ended up deleting this post when I was in the bathroom, so I really apologize for taking so long. Had to totally rewrite it from what I still remembered of the request, so I'm sorry if anything is off;;; Also only proofread this one once to rush it out, so apologize for any errors.

❗Warning❗ This fic references Abomination Vault where it's implied Lilith might've assaulted Death, It's a very subtle reference that would be missed if you didn't read the book, but I figured I would warn people anyways. Please exercise discretion.

Summary: Your habit of tracing Death's scars ends up ends up bringing back an unwelcome memory.

Relationships: Death/Fem!Reader

Warnings: TW for implied reference to assault, Scars, Fluff but with some angst, Death doesn't deal with things in a healthy way but did you really think he would?

It's not often that you're able to stay with Death like this.

Far too often for your liking he has to leave before you're able to invite him to bed, or he leaves in the middle of the night, waking you up as he slips away. It doesn't help that beyond those circumstances, he doesn't often indulge in things like this. Largely out of habit.

You lean more into Death's side; Wanting his cool skin against yours, as well as his weight makes the bed dip more so to his side than yours, sliding you closer. It slots you into the nook of his arm, as he lies on his back slightly tilted towards you. Said arm keeps a loose grip on your shoulders, though you can feel it tighten for a moment any time you attempt to make a move.

You don't know if it's because he doesn't want you to leave, or he's annoyed you're moving so much; But either way you just submit to his grip and lay there content. It wasn't as if you were actually going to leave anyways. You're too comfortable here, feeling his body fitted against yours like a puzzle piece. You may be much smaller than him, but you can't help but feel like it's a perfect fit.

But as much as you've tried you don't feel quite tired yet; Maybe it was still the excitement of Death returning running through your veins even this late into the night. His arrivals are almost always a surprise, only cued in by the sound of Despair's ghostly whinny or the flapping wings of Dust coming through your open bedroom window. Sometimes he sends the crow to simply check on you, but either way it's usually a sign he's either here, or not far away.

Your hand brushes slowly over a scar on his side, and when you glance up, you notice he's staring right at you. You've already played with those healed wounds so much as of late.

Death doesn't tell you to stop though, as over time he's come to enjoy the feeling of your soft hands brushing over his skin. It's been far too long, if at all, since he's felt something like that. And even if he grimaces in his own disgust at you touching old scars healed from battles centuries ago, you don't seem to mind them at all. They almost seem to entertain you in an odd way. Wouldn't be the first time he's thought you were a weird little thing, given you entertain having the Grim Reaper himself in your bed.

"It's late. You should be asleep." You hum, pursing your lips.

As if Death should be nagging about sleeping, considering he so rarely does so himself.

"I'm not tired yet. Give me a minute."

You hear him heavily sigh; A cop-out thing he does when he's going to let you do what you want, but he doesn't want to seem like he's just going to let you win.

You just want to enjoy this a bit more, knowing that quite possibly he'll be gone in the morning, or will have to leave shortly after. This isn't a common occurrence, so you'll forgive yourself for being a bit greedy as your fingers brush over a scar on his ribs. The feeling is odd under your fingertips, but it almost has the same effect as someone would rubbing the soft threads of a blanket- a mindless soothing action.

It can't be too much to ask for just a bit more, even if your eyelids are starting to feel more and more heavy. Just push it down. You yawn again, eyes watering even after you blink a few times to rid yourself of the tears. Just a few more minutes.

The trousers Death is wearing are resting quite low on his hips, enough so to show a large set of scars on his left hip. They're long and thin, and probably go down over his thigh, if you had to take a guess given the way they trail downward. You probably never noticed them, given that normally you can't see at all whenever Death undresses to any degree. You just brush along it; It's an absentminded, soothing gesture, you don't even realize you're really doing it until part way though.

When you look up at Death however, you wretch your hand away as if his skin is hellfire once you see the look in his eyes.

Something about Death you've noticed over your time with him is despite how hard he tries to present as the emotionless Reaper, just how much raw emotion swims in his eyes. And right now, it was very clear you dredged up something you shouldn't have. His body is tight and rigid, but not in an angry sort. For just a moment he's trapped in the past.

"Shit, I- Sorry Death."

He looks down at you- but it almost seems like he looking right through you, in a way.

"Leave that one alone." His voice is angry, making you shrink, but he's not angry directly at you. He seems more so at a memory being brought back up by your touch.

"Sorry."

You can hear his heavy breath, making his chest raise and lower drastically.

He cringes, knowing that he made you shirk from him even if it was only for a moment. That's always been his biggest fear; That you'll eventually run from him like everyone else has. You should, any life preserving human would do it. He got lucky with you, and he's not going to let that foul memory ruin it.

His hand around your shoulder tightens, pulling you back tighter against him. Almost too tight for a moment, before he eventually loosens just a bit.

You look up at him for a moment, biting the inside of your cheek. You know he probably won't tell you anything about it; That habit is so deeply ingrained in him and it no matter how much you try it probably never will. but the least you can do is just be there.

Pressing your legs more against his you shuffle into his side, trying to find a perfect position to fall asleep in. One arm drapes over his torso in an attempt to hold onto him, pressing your cheek into his shoulder. You quickly find it, and the moment you close your eyes, you feel like it's going to be near impossible to open them again. You pushed off sleeping for so long that it finally just sunk it's claws into you, intent on not letting go.

And neither is Death, judging by the way his hand cups your shoulder. You don't mind; If anything you enjoy the pressure, and the knowing that he's right there. At least for the time being.

Meanwhile Death is looking down at you, feeling your breathing slow down. He can still feel it brush over his bare skin, but the way your muscles relax cue him into the fact that you've finally drifted off.

He's thankful you never asked about that scar. It's not as if he enjoys lying to you, but it's not something he wants to bring up ever again. Just bury it so deep inside of him and pile good memories on top of it like fresh dirt on a flowerbed. He's getting more and more of those, with you around.

Call him greedy, but he wants more of them. Even simple ones like this; With you so comfortable around him that you can fall asleep against him.

He pushes this memory onto the top of the pile in his mind- and shoves those older ones deeper down before calling it a night.

[insidethebarrier]

The Sweetest Man Ever

In through the nose, out through the mouth.  Whitney thinks to herself as she curls into a ball next to her sleeping husband. This has got to help

Unfortunately, fetal position is no match for excruciating cramps that are invading her lower abdomen. God, I hate this shit. 

Reluctantly, she throws the sheets off of her and gets out of bed to fetch a glass of water. Her pain is so intense that she begins to feel nauseous. She hunches over in the kitchen and barely makes it to the couch with her water. 

She hugs her legs to her chest and begins silently sobbing into her knees. Being a woman fucking sucks. Eventually she lays her head on the cushions.

To her surprise, a giant figure emerges from the darkness after some time. 

"Darling?" Her husband calls out in a raspy voice. "What are you doing?"

Whitney sits up when she sees him. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to wake you."

When Henry gets close enough, he notices that his wife had been crying. "What's wrong?"

"I can't sleep. My cramps are so bad and I've already maxed out on medication for the day," she explains. 

"Oh sweetheart," Henry sits down beside her and rubs her back. "I'm sorry." I hate seeing her like this. I wish I could take her pain away. 

"You don't have to stay up with me baby. I'll come back in a bit." Whitney says. 

Henry kisses the top of her head. "I don't sleep well without you. I'll sleep where you sleep."

Whitney rests her head on his shoulder. He is an angel.  "I love you,"

Henry positions himself upright on the short end of the sectional. Whitney crawls to him and rests her head on his lap. He begins fondling her hair immediately. 

"Why don't you get back on birth control?" Henry asked after a few minutes "It would help regulate things more and decrease your discomfort."

Whitney rubs his thigh. "I can't honey. You know that."

"I just hate seeing you like this, especially when there is something to fix it." He explains running his fingers through her dark locks. 

"I'm having enough trouble getting pregnant as it is. We won't ever have a baby if I go back on it."

Henry is silent for a minute. He curls a piece of her hair around his finger. "You don't know that."

"I do. Johnse women have a hard time conceiving." Whitney begins playing with a loose thread in Henry's pajama pants.

"Your mother didn't. She had 5 kids." 

"My mother isn't a Johnse, baby. My grandmother barely had my dad and my sister is sterile," Whitney turns her face towards him. 

Henry hopes Whitney can't see his glassy eyes in the poorly lit room. "You're right darling. It was a stupid idea. I'm sorry."  How could I have been so insensitive?

The next morning, Whitney wakes up alone in her bed. Henry must have carried me up here last night. She gets out of bed, walks to the bathroom and is instantly reminded of the tremendous pain she was in last night. 

She reaches under the counter in search of a tampon and she picks up the bottle of Mitol to learn that it was empty. You've got to be fucking kidding me. 

She turns and heads to the medicine cabinet looking for Alieve to use as a substitute, but it looks like Henry took the last of it a few days ago. 

This enrages Whitney. Not because Henry took the last of the pills, but because she had to run to the store unmedicated to buy more. She angrily gets dressed and throws a ball cap on her head instead of brushing her hair then trudges down the stairs. 

Just as she reaches the bottom of the staircase, Henry opens the front door and comes in with a bunch of stuff in his hands. 

"Good morning," Henry says when he notices her. "I was hoping to set all this up before you woke up."

"Set what up?" Whitney asks curiously. It was then that she noticed what her husband was carrying.

Henry sets down everything he was holding and shows it to her one by one. 

"I got you flowers," He says handing them to her "Wild ones, your favorite. And chocolate, to make you feel better. And drum roll please," Henry pulls out 2 pints of frozen deliciousness. "Ice cream. Strawberry and  chocolate,"

Whitney smiles as she smells the flowers. They remind her of her childhood.

"I noticed you were out of your medicine so I bought you more," he pulls out a bottle of Mitol "I also got some Alieve because I finished those off the other day."

Whitney doesn't know what to do with herself. She hugs Henry before he can get another word out. "Thank you," Is all she says.

Henry kisses the top of her head. "I've got one more thing. I know how much you love cold pizza in the morning so," He shows her a box of pizza. She squeals. "It's not cold yet. I haven't had time to put it in the fridge-"

Whitney jumps on top of him and covers him in kisses. "You are the sweetest man in the world. I think I just might have to keep you forever."

"I might just like that," Henry says softly.