#like I’ve slowly been coming back to old friends that I haven’t talked to in 7-8 years and we were very close before.. it happens!

[candydos]

I know a number of people really didn’t like the “trio not really talking to each other for 10 years” thing, but I personally thought it was a nice thing to highlight.

as someone who’s had a lot of bad and toxic friendships, I realized that no one ever emphasized the importance of space, of distancing yourself to get better. it’s always about cutting them off, but what if you want to hold onto the person for the happiness you found in them? you have to take a little step back, look around, then keep going till you feel okay.

yes, the trio have been through a lot together, but they also hurt each other really badly and those don’t cancel each other out. not just everything in amphibia but the years of unhealthy dynamics back on earth. I know what it’s like to finally step out and have space after 8 months straight of a toxic friendship with its highs and lows, I can’t imagine what it would feel like for years of friendship. but it’s like a weird breath of fresh air. you both grow and you fix yourself out, then when you do come back, you’re better.

I feel like we don’t touch on these kinds of narratives/endings often, where goodbyes are permanent or the time away is significant. but there’s something beautiful in showing that friendships can stay intact in spite of distance and time away. that stepping away to grow on your own doesn’t diminish the value the friendship ever had in the first place. and I’m happy we got that.

[y2kuromi]

⭑ : 呪術廻戦 ❛ 𝗟𝗜𝗘𝗕𝗘𝗦𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗨𝗠𝗘 : satoru gojo x fem! reader

࣪˖ ִֶָ𐀔 synopsis: yuuji sees a completely different side of gojo-sensei !

contents: tooth rotting fluff w a dash of angst! established relationship (married), second person & told from yuuji’s pov. extremely whipped satoru! petnames, suggestive dialogue

summer isn’t over yet! collection, can be read as a stand-alone

yuuji was initially ecstatic about the prospect of living with gojo-sensei. he’d imagined lazing around, gorging on sweets and watching cartoons on tv — maybe a few training sessions squeezed in with gojo-sensei — ideally it would’ve been just the two of them.

his fantasies came crashing down when realised gojo-sensei’s “house” was actually a “home”. the walls in the foyer were riddled with picture frames. he felt like he was intruding on gojo-sensei’s personal life, but he couldn’t take his eyes off the pictures on the walls.

there was a woman beside gojo-sensei in most of the pictures. she had (e/c) eyes and (h/c) hair. a friend? or a girlfriend? — nah. according to fushiguro, gojo-sensei got zero play. though she had to mean something to him. it was evident in the way he looked at her.

his cerulean eyes entirely averted the camera lens, instead devoted to committing every inch of her to memory

“that’s my wife” gojo said softly,“she’s gorgeous isn’t she?” he laughed wryly as he stared lovingly at the smiling woman in the photo. yuuji nodded slowly, studying his teacher closely.

“is she okay with me hiding out here?” he asked tentatively, shoving his hands in the pockets of his hoodie.

“ahhh about that” gojo says sheepishly, “i haven’t had the time to mention it to her so you’ll have to wait here while i talk to her” he ran a hand through his hair, snowy white tendrils curling around his fingers.

classic gojo-sensei.

“oh” yuuji chuckled, the situation was amusing to him. he couldn’t wait to tell fushiguro — the sour reminder that he couldn’t had his laughter dying in his throat.

gojo-sensei shrugged off his shoes and patted yuuji’s shoulder, “don’t worry she’ll say yes , i’ve got her wrapped around my finger”

yuuji waited patiently in the foyer, amber eyes flickering over the expensive decor and woodsy frames of gojo-sensei’s family. he could faintly make out traces of your conversation

"oh? you're home early for once" you smiled, leaning into your husband as he placed a kiss on your forehead. "what's the special occasion 'toru?"

"do i need a reason to want to see my beautiful wife?”

“nope” you hummed, “‘m just surprised to see you” not that you were complaining. satoru was a busy man and you cherished the rare moments you spent alone together

“how was your day sweets?” he asked, taking your hand in his, his thumb stroked over knuckles, soft, loving.

“same old” you shrugged, “we’ve got some big case coming up next week, so i was pretty busy today. had a tonne of paperwork and meetings too"

"my busy bee" he smiles, "i missed you s'much, i hate going on these stupid business trips"

"you'd like them more if i came with you" you said teasingly, poking his rib with your free hand "i ran into kento the other day, you sure i shouldn't come back to jujutsu sorcery too?"

"nuh uh" he shook his head firmly, "stay at your law firm pretty, 'm gonna need someone to defend me when i kill all the higher ups"

"what have they done now?" you sigh exasperatedly, turning the knob on the gas cooker and reducing the heat. the faint clicking sound echoes in the kitchen as the orange-blue flames simmered quietly.

"what haven't they done" he grumbled, leaning against the counter. he gently tugged at his blindfold, lithe fingers unveiling the cerulean eyes that you loved so much. his snowy hair fell softly around his face, a curtain that failed to hide the anger he felt coursing through his veins.

"poor baby" you cooed, hands trailing up to his face and cupping his cheeks, your fingers smoothed over the frown etched on his face, pushing his lips together in a duck-lipped pout, "wanna tell me about it?"

"y'know yuuji? the new first year that's sukuna's vessel?"

you nod, allowing your hands to fall from his face and rest on the counter. his greedy hands make their way to your waist, rubbing circles on the soft flesh peeking out beneath your untucked dress shirt.

"well they sent the first years on a mission to rescue people from the detention center, after sending me on that stupid mission overseas mind you, and the kid had to fight a special grade curse"

"is he okay?" you ask, hands ghosting over satoru's bigger, veiny ones. he sighs, a look of mild irritation fleeting over his face at the memory. in retrospect, none of that mattered now. he was home.

"yeah he's fine" he shrugs, "sukuna ripped his heart out and he died, but he revived him eventually"

"your definition of fine is questionable satoru" you snicker, and he feels his heart melting at the sound of your laughter. "why'd they send them on that mission anyways?"

"they just want yuuji dead, he was supposed to be executed remember? and they're really scared of sukuna which is crazy 'cause he's kinda weak"

"someone needs to humble you" you say, amusement dripping from your words like honey, "pride comes before fall 'toru"

"you humble me all the time sweets" he grins, pressing a chaste kiss to your forehead.

"i'm just doing the universe a favour" you tease, "what do you want for dinner? rice? noodles? or we could order food from that thai joint you like if you want”

"i'll eat anything you cook sweets,” he murmurs, “though i have something else i wouldn’t mind eating”

“satoru” you gasped, “you just got home and you’re already trying to get between my legs” you smack his shoulder playfully

“i’ve missed her too” he shrugs, “i’ve missed all of you”

you shook your head, “can’t believe i married such a feen” a languid smile tugs at the corners of your lips. you could try all you wanted to resist his charms, but he’d always win in the end

"so...about yuuji" satoru starts, testing the waters, "the higher ups really want him gone, i can't keep him at jujutsu tech right now"

"i can see why you wouldn't" you hum, leaning on the tips of your toes to reach for the salt. satoru had a habit of placing the things you needed in places you couldn't reach just so he could have the honour of retrieving them for you

“need help with that sweets?” he asks eagerly, pushing himself off the counter and sifting through the wooden shelves. he easily brings the jar of salt down and hands it to you

"you have to stop doing this, it’s such an inconvenience" you sighed, but you were grateful nonetheless.“you’re insufferable i swear”

“‘m still yours” he says suavely. satoru’s smile is unwavering though it doesn’t quite reach his eyes.

you can tell the thing with yuuji is weighing heavily on his mind. he’s more restless than usual. his lithe fingers run up and down the counter as he stares into space

“‘toru?” you prompt, nudging him with your elbow, “i can hear you thinking”

“i don’t know where to keep him” he exhales, “i would ask shoko, or kento but then i’d risk getting them in trouble with the higher ups”

“what about the secret room we found in our third year?” you asked, “you could keep him there, unless they found out about it”

“i would keep him there.. but i just...don't want him to feel alone," he says softly. you didn’t think it was possible to fall even deeper in love with satoru, but he never failed to surprise you. “he's just a kid, so i— i want to look out for him.”

he knows it’s a big ask. you can hear the gears turning in his head as he figures out how to possibly convince you to let sukuna’s vessel stay in your home.

"can he stay?" he pleads, "can yuuji stay with us please? it’s only until the kyoto goodwill event" he's clasping his hands together, imploring you with his infinitely blue eyes. you raise an eyebrow. knowing satoru, yuuji was probably waiting around in the foyer

"he's already here isn't he?" you ask, shaking your head fondly as a guilty look flickers across his face. classic satoru. although you would've loved for him to give you a heads up, you didn't mind a bit. it would be nice to have some company when satoru went on his missions

 “i didn’t really have time to plan all the details before bringing him with me” he says, sheepishly rubbing a hand behind his neck, his fingers brushed against the soft strands of his undercut, "are you mad? don't be mad baby"

"no" you laugh, "i'm not mad 'toru, he can stay"

it’s the little things like this that make you realise just how much power you have over him. within seconds your husband is whirling you around, hands gripping your waist tightly and pressing chaste kisses on your face as he sets you down

"yuuji she said you can stay" a wide grin blooms across his face as he bounds into the foyer excitedly. the strongest jujutsu sorcerer, reduced to the faint resemblance of a child getting their first sleepover approved

you set the jar of salt down on the marbled counter. trailing after your husband. true to your suspicions, yuuji itadori had been standing awkwardly, twiddling his thumbs together in his hoodie pockets and silently taking in the intricacies of your home.

he couldn’t help but feel out of place.

there were pairs of everything — shoes neatly arranged on the coat rack. umbrellas tucked in a corner in the foyer. coats hung up next to each other on the wall.

the pale blue wallpaper hung row after row of framed photographs. their wooden mahogany panels reflected the warm lights. yuuji’s light brown eyes flickered on the pictures in all their glory and glossy sheen.

the ones that caught his eye captured a young fushiguro’s trademark scowl, the irritated quirk of his brow and the curled spikes of his hair that defied gravity.

he was standing beside a girl who looked just like him, except she was slightly taller with long bone-straight brown hair. yuuji’s eyes lingered on her smile as your beanstalk of a husband shook him excitedly

he wondered what fushiguro would say if he knew he’d seen pictures of him as a little kid. ( he’d probably summon his shikigami on him )

“really?” he beamed, eyes momentarily drawn away from the plethora of frames. you feel your heart melt into a sickly sweet puddle of happiness and warmth, as you watch satoru drape his arm over yuuji’s shoulder

“yes really” you laugh, “it’s nice to finally meet you yuuji, you’re a friend of megumi’s right?”

yuuji nods frantically, his mop of pink curls bouncing enthusiastically . his mannerisms were nervous and eager. he wanted to fit in. he wanted you to like him. you could tell — he reminded you oddly of your husband ( they were practically the same person in different fonts )

“speaking of megumi, he doesn’t know yuuji’s alive so please don’t let it slip when he calls you” satoru murmurs, taking slow steps towards you.

he knows he’s asking for too much now. you practically raised megumi and it would be nearly impossible for you to keep something like this from him. satoru can see the cogs spinning in your head, the subtle anger in your heart and for the first time in years he’s afraid.

“we’ll talk about this later” you say through gritted teeth. he pleads silently with his eyes and you swallow your protests, you exhale loudly before turning towards yuuji again “c’mon yuuji, i’ve just started on dinner”

yuuji kicks off his shoes and nudges them neatly beneath the shoe rack before padding after you. satoru isn’t far behind

“it smells really good mrs. gojo” yuuji says politely, as he takes a seat by the kitchen island, legs dangling as he drums on the smooth marbled counter.

“thank you yuuji” you beamed, “do you prefer rice or noodles?”

“ahh i’m not really picky” he says, “i like all kinds of food really, but i suppose rice? if it isn’t too much of a hassle, i really don’t want to be a bother-”

“slow down yuuji” you said softly, placing a hand on his shoulder, “i’m really glad to have you here, it gets kinda lonely when ‘toru’s away on business trips so make yourself at home okay?”

no wonder gojo-sensei was always happy, his wife was an angel. yuuji thought as he nodded fervently

“i can make the rice baby” satoru offers, his hands make their way around your waist, he doesn’t miss the way you stiffen under his touch. you’re mad at him, and he knows you have every right to be

“thank you” you said, putting as much feeling into the words as you could muster, “come with me yuuji, i’ll show you around”

yuuji was positive he was intruding now, standing in the middle of megumi’s room while you stripped navy blue pinstripe sheets off his bed and replaced them with canary dressings.

“are you sure i can sleep here?” he asks, “ i don’t mind taking the couch..”

you seemed horrified at the idea of yuuji sleeping alone on the couch. he still hadn’t come to terms with the fact that you actually wanted him here. he was so used to being unwanted

growing up with his grandpa was something he wouldn’t trade for the world, yet he’d always craved the warmth of a mother. a mother’s love was the purest, and there was nothing more blameless than the softness in your (e/c) eyes when you looked at him

“i mind yuuji” you frowned” and i want you to stay in gumi’s room, his clothes should fit you since you’re around the same height”

“thank you again for letting me crash here” yuuji didn’t think he could say it enough. he didn’t deserve such kindness, not when the king of curses lived rent free in his head

“don’t mention it yuuji” you said, “i meant what i said downstairs, i could really use the company”

you ruffled his hair softly before resuming your ministrations of making the bed. you tucked crisp sheets beneath the mattress and fluffed up pillows with ease.

“you’re a really good mom, why don’t you and gojo-sensei have any kids of your own?” yuuji only realises the question is slightly insensitive after the words hang in the air and an unreadable look fleets across your face, “i’m so sorry that was really rude of me-”

“you’re good yuuji” you laugh, you sit down on the freshly laid duvet and pat the space beside you. yuuji hesitates but he sits down eventually

“it just never happened y’know? we adopted tsu and gumi a few years back, plus toru’s always seen his students as his kids, he cares about you guys a lot”

“even me?” it doesn’t seem plausible to him. all he’s seemed to do is cause problems for gojo-sensei ever since he ate that gross finger

“especially you yuuji” you smiled, ruffling his hair, “you remind me of him funny enough, even though i used to hate him back in our school days”

“really?” he gawked, he was practically falling over megumi’s bed with anticipation.

“really” you affirmed , “he was a real piece of work back then, i bet he’s the reason yaga has so many grey hairs”

“how’d you fall in love with him then?” yuuji enquires, brown eyes sparkling with immense curiosity “and how’d you meet?”

“are you guys gossiping about me?” satoru gasps, peeking around the doorway, “how mean of you yuuji, i thought we were friends”

“ahhh we weren’t gossiping per-say, mrs. gojo was about to tell me how you met”

“can i tell him?” satoru’s eyes sparkle, “the way i remember it i walked into the common room and cherry blossoms started falling, classical piano was playing softly in the background and-”

“that didn’t happen” you said, “he’s finally going senile” you tried and failed to push satoru out the doorway but he stood his ground.

he stood almost toe to toe with you, a pleased grin blooming on his face as he towered over you. yuuji’s eye’s flickered between you and your husband, cheeks dusted a rosy pink as he stifled giggles

“it did happen!” satoru insisted, “i’m sure shoko has a recording of it somewhere, now as i was saying.. she took one look at me and fell head over heels in love”

“you’re deluded” you muttered, “i didn’t love you until our second year, get your facts right”

“so you did fall head over heels in love with me” he grinned, “so early too? i knew you couldn’t resist my charms — owww!”

satoru feigns as you finally manage to shove him out the door after hitting his shoulder. by now, yuuji is a spluttering mess on the soft tatami mats lining megumi’s floor

“i’ll tell you what really happened one of these days” you said over your shoulder, “you can shower and settle in, take as long as you need, we’ll wait for you to come downstairs before we start eating”

your smile falls the moment the door clicks shut behind you. satoru feels his heart shattering. he’s so sure he’s going to die because his wife is mad at him. the universe might as well combust into nothing but ashes

“baby-” satoru starts, catching your wrist in his palm. he grips the bone loosely, careful not to hurt you “‘m sorry, you know that, but megumi can’t know”

you trudge down the stairs in silence, opting only to speak when you’re seated beside satoru in the living room. your cat natsu watches you wearily from her cat post, slanted eyes shooting satoru a well meaning glare.

“you can’t ask me to keep this from him” you said, shaking your head, eyes looking everywhere but your husband’s piercing blue gaze. “you’re taking things too far now”

“i know” his voice is a mere whisper, the words barely speak themself into existence, “i’m being selfish again, but you’ve gotta understand (y/n)”

“i can’t” you splutter, you feel tears treading your waterline “put yourself in his shoes, c’mon satoru we’ve seen him at his worst, why would we do something that could hurt him?”

“i’m not doing this to hurt megumi, i’m doing this to protect yuuji”

“just think about it please” you frowned, “if instead of executing suguru they kept him alive and let us think he was dead, you’d never forgive them”

he doesn’t miss the way your voice catches over the three syllables. he doesn’t miss the way your fingers tremble against his forearm. he hates this — arguing with you, he could think of infinite things he’d rather do than this.

“that’s different” his voice is wavering now, “suguru made his choice, yuuji didn’t ask for any of this” he winces as the words fall from his lips. to think he’d stooped to speaking ill of the dead. he doesn’t believe that, not really.

“you still wouldn’t forgive them” you prompted, “and i don’t want ‘gumi to go through any more, tsumiki being in a coma is hard enough as it is”

“i know baby, i know” satoru says softly, he cups your trembling face in his hands and places the sweetest of kisses on the tears that threaten to stream down your cheeks, “trust me on this okay? he’ll be fine i promise”

“okay” you nod, letting your husband, your one and only, wipe away the tears spilling over your lashes.

satoru could really kill the higher ups for putting him in this position. one where he nearly sacrificed his wife’s happiness for something as insignificant as jujutsu sorcery. with his lips still pressed to the corners of yours, he makes a silent vow with himself

it would be you before everything. it was you before everything

“you’re so beautiful” he whispers, his thumb grazing your bottom lip “you. are. everything. to. me” he punctuates each word with a kiss. his lips committing every inch of you to memory

they ghost over your cheek, your quivering lip, your shoulder, your wrist, and finally the silver wedding band encasing your ring finger. and they linger on the cool silver for what seems to be eternity before satoru speaks up again

“dance with me?” he prompts, although he’s not really asking. he’s already whisking you onto your feet and starting up the record player. the vinyl spins on its axis, as constant as his infinite love for you.

“what?” you sniffed slightly, “like we did in our first year?”

“like we did in our first year”

satoru’s hands were on your hip, drawing you closer, he felt your chest brush against his for a second as he leaned into you. you swayed gently side to side, keeping in time with the intricate melodies streaming from the gramophone

his six eyes tell him his student is watching, listening. curious doe eyes peeking from the stairwell. he doesn’t mind. satoru had never been one to hide his affection. you were his. and he was infinitely yours.

“can i tell you a secret?” satoru murmurs, as he twirls you back into his arms. he wishes he could stay like this forever. with you. he’d selfishly sacrifice the universe to keep having moments like this. he would kill for you. he’s positive he would. he’d do it without hesitation.

“i thought we didn’t have any of those” you quipped. satoru feels his heart melting. watching the sadness in your eyes fade into utter bliss was like watching the sun come out after a rainy day. maybe even better.

“it’s a good one i promise” he grins, you raise a brow sceptically but you’re listening “i was the one who fell head over heels in love with you. way back in our first year…and i didn’t even know what love was, i was so confused”

“when did you know?” you asked, “you always say you knew the moment you saw me, but you were an asshole then”

“it was the first time we snuck out together” he admits, “when we went to that night market. you were right, i was jealous of suguru but could you blame me? i wanted you all to myself”

“you’ve always been so greedy” you giggled. satoru doesn’t need the six eyes to see that you love him regardless. it’s evident in the tenderness of your tone and the way your (e/c) sparkle when you look at him

“cut me some slack baby” he groans “i’m trying to be romantic”

“you don’t need to try, i heard through the grapevine i can’t resist your charms” you hummed

satoru cracks a smile at the inside joke, a slow symphony of contentment.he kisses you again and it’s sweet and full of blind adoration. loving you is his religion. the only thing he’s wholly committed to. your hands looped around his neck, carefully avoiding the ever-so-sensitive scar that ran beneath his chin

your hands founds repose in the soft strands of his hair, carefully threading through the ivory curls. satoru could feel himself melting into you, he clung to you as if he was scared to let go and his calloused hands clutched at the warmth that radiated from your skin. he was so impossibly close you could feel his eyelashes fluttering against your cheeks.

yuuji peered at the scene with stars in his eyes. he knew he should look away. that this moment was sacred, strictly for the two of you. but he’d never seen gojo like this before — completely vulnerable, completely himself in the confines of your embrace.

here he wasn’t the strongest, the richest, the one-man clan, the one whose mere existence shifted the balance of the world. here, he wasn't satoru gojo, he wasn't gojo-sensei, he was just 'toru.

© Y2KUROMI 2024. please do not plagiarise, repost, or translate any of my works on here or any other websites.

[disillusioneddanny]

It’s me, hi I’m the problem is me (dead tired)

The world was ending.

That was the thing Tim had come to accept. Somehow, all of the big bads had made friends and decided to work together to take over the universe and split it amongst themselves. Darkseid, Trigun, Barbatos, they had all gotten together to conquer the universe. Raven was completely drained, The supers three were in the infirmary, and the Lanterns Corp were barely holding them back, losing every second. Hell, even the Justice League Dark were down for the count.

“What are we doing to do?” Nightwing murmured, watching as the Lanterns slowly lost momentum.

“I-I don’t know,” Bruce whispered. Tim’s adoptive father had ripped of his cowl, his hair stood mussed from continuously running his fingers through his hair in stress. Batman, Wonder Woman, and Aquaman stood over all of the contingencies Bruce had ever collected on the three big bads.

Robin stared at the screen that showed the devastation, a frown prominent on his face. “So this is it? We just give up?”

“No,” Red Hood said walking into the room with Arsenal and Starfire in tow. Behind the three stood a young man. He had Lazarus green eyes, snow white hair, slightly blue skin, and pointed ears. His body adorned in black armor, a blue crown floated above his head and a large cape hung from his body with galaxies swirling around. He looked to be Tim’s age, maybe just a little older than him, somewhere between his and Jason’s age.

“Who’s this?”

The being stepped forward, jewelry that hung from his ears tinkled slightly when he did and jeez, he was beautiful.

“My name is Phantom,” the being said with a serene smile. He was otherworldly, unlike anything Tim had ever seen in his life. “I am High King of the Infinite Realms. Jason asked me to come and assist with an issue you are dealing with,” he said, his eyes flicked to the large monitor curiously, tilting his head to the side, the silver that hng from his ears clangled once more. “Ah, those three, how fun.”

“How do you uh, how do you know Jason?” Tim asked, stepping towards the king.

At this, Phantom had an amused smile on his face as he looked back at Jason. “You never told them?”

Jason let out a groan of annoyance, pinching the bridge of his nose as he did. “When I died, Phantom found me in the ghost zone, I never actually moved one when I died. For those six months I just hung out in the ghost zone and became friends with Phantom. Before I came back, he declared me as one of his Fright Knights. And last years he ran into me during one of my missions and brought back my memories from when I died and fixed the pit rage.”

Phantom nodded, a wide grin on his face. “Jason made a lousy ghost. Now, how about I go fix this issue for you all real quick?” He said before he disappeared. Tim went to ask Jason about Phantom only for his father to beat him to the punch.

“Is this why we haven’t been able to get in contact with you?” Bruce asked, furrowing his brow. Jason shrugged.

“Couldn’t find the sword he left me that lets me summon him. Turns out I left it on Kori’s ship so she had to travel to come get me. From there it took a bit for me to remember how to summon him, I’ve never actually done it before so it took a few tries to get it right. And of course Phantom thought it was a social call and he loves to talk so it took a little bit to explain. And on top of that, time works different in the Realms. And Klarion was there so it just took a little longet than I wanted it to but he’s here and he’ll take care of the issue super quick.”

“Klarion?”

“Yeah he’s dating Phantom’s clone, he hates their relationship like a lot but it’s like two little chaos gremlins,” Jason said with a chuckle.

“How old is Phantom?” Tim blurted out.

Jason gave the nineteen year old a confused look but chuckled nonetheless. “He’s twenty.”

“Twenty and he is already a king?” Aquaman said, looking more and more interested in Phantom.

“Been king since he was fourteen,” Jason said, sucking at his teeth before he looked at the monitor and started snickering. Tim followed his gaze and smiled when he saw Phantom grow a third arm and grabbed all three beings by their ears, shrinking them down to his size before he dragged them away from the Lanterns before they disappeared.

Soon after the four reappeared in front of Bruce, Diana and Arthur who all looked on curiously.

“Kneel,” Phantom ordered. The three beings fell harshly to their knees. “I am beyond disappointed in the three of you. Are your realms not enough? What makes you think that you have the right to take over dimensions that do not belong to you?”

“But-” Trigon started.

“No buts from you, Trigon. The only reason you’re even still the ruler of your world is because none of your children want the position,” Phantom said. “Due to your crimes against this realm I hearby sentence you all to a millenia in the Fright Zone. Jason,” he instructed.

Jason grinned and pulled his sword from its sheath and stepped forward. With a quick swipe, all three disappeared from view.

Phantom stepped towards the three heroes and dipped his head in a polite bow. “They should not cause anymore issues. I apologize that I could not get here sooner. While I may be ll power, I am not all seeing and Kronos does not always deem it fit to tell me when my underlings are causing issues,” he said with a polite smile. “Does anyone have any paper or something to write on?”

“I uh, I have a tablet, I can just pull up something,” Tim stammered, stepping forward. Phantom smiled in thanks, taking the tablet from Tim. He drew out a complicated sigil and set it on the large table.

“This is my official line. Next time you are in a situation such as this, please do not hesitate to summon me,” he said before he looked at Tim and looked him up and down, a single fang peeked from under his lip. “As for you, Handsome, feel free to get my personal sigil from your brother and call me anytime.”

Before Tim could say another word, the High King disappeared and Tim immediately turned towards his brother with wide eyes. “ Jason ,” he hissed.

“He’s my fucking friend! I don’t want you dating him,” Jason shouted, running out of the room with Tim following close behind.

[multifandomfanficss]

Don’t Be Embarrassed

Sam Riordan x Reader

Prompt: You take care of Sam and he takes care of you.

Warnings: autistic reader having an autistic meltdown, talk of mental hospitals, mentions of sex, walking in on friends having sex, spoilers for episode 4

A/N: Although there is no smut, because we’re only 4 episodes in and Sam doesn’t have a confirmed age I’m writing this under the assumption that he’s college age 18+. This boy is taking up most of my brain space this week. We don’t have a lot of info on the the character, but this is how I see his vibes. I crossposted this on my ao3 adriansglasses. Also this is my first non Adrian fic in quite sometime! Hope ya’ll enjoy!

You were on your way back from class when you heard yelling coming from down the hallway. You had been hanging out with Sam for the day and left him for two hours to go to class. You rushed to your dorm, quickly fishing out your keys.

“Hey hey hey what’s going on?” You asked him, placing your hands out, waiting to see if he’ll let you touch him.

“It was supposed to be a good day! A good day! But apparently I can’t even fucking do that!” He yells. The Woods had done a toll on him and he was still recovering. He had been doing a lot better lately, but everyone knows healing isn’t linear.

“Sam, it’s okay. You’re okay.” You give him a smile. “You had a good day yesterday and the day before that! It’s okay to have a bad day, Sam.”

“But I was doing so good…” He sounds defeated. You slowly grow closer to him. When he doesn’t back away you place a hand on his shoulder.

“I know and I’m so proud of you, but healing isn’t linear. There’s gonna be bad days. Even people who are… for lack of a better word ‘normal’ have bad days.” You roll your eyes and throw air quotes around the word normal. You didn’t always have the best words to describe what you were thinking, but Sam always knew what you meant. Usually college friendships and relationships formed and moved fast, but even with that Sam was different. You felt like you could be yourself around him in ways you couldn’t be around others.

It felt that way since the beginning. Sure the day you met Sam was overstimulating, rushed, and tense, but after you and your friends convinced him not to kill the doctor that completely ruined his life, you got to know him a little more the next day.

“So what’s your power?” He asks.

“What?”

“Your power. You must be a supe if you go to Godolkin.”

“Oh! Yeah uh…right… It’s stupid.” You sigh, avoiding eye contact. The gravel below your feet comes into detail. You pay attention to the sparkles of the rocks being hit by the sun instead of Sam.

“It can’t be that bad. Just tell me.” You can hear the smile in his voice.

“I uh… I feel like any way I word it will sound weird, but my bodily fluids are like acid, so uh like my tears and spit and stuff. Told you it was weird.”

“No! That’s cool! I’ve seen way worse. You should have seen some of my roommates at my old place.” He jokes. You laugh quietly with him.

“So all of your stuff is acid?” He asks. You nod.

“How do you pee? Do you just like melt toilets every time you piss?” He asks. You laugh.

“No, I guess my body has some way of controlling it, but I don’t know. I haven’t really figured it out consciously.”

“I was gonna say, that would be really cool if you could piss acid. Just like pee on all your enemies. That would be cool as fuck.” He laughs. You don’t know why at the time, but there’s just something so comforting about him.

“That’s gross. You’re sick.” You laugh.

“Oh trust me I know. You don’t go through multiple mental hospitals just being normal.”

You knew he was joking, but the way he said normal struck a cord in you. You didn’t see him as wrong, but you knew what he meant. You often felt… knew… you weren’t normal either.

You were there for Sam just as much as he was for you. It took you a long time to accept his help. It took a while for him to convince you that you weren’t a burden. The first time you had a meltdown in front of him was a very vulnerable moment for you. You hadn’t been that vulnerable with anyone like that in a long time.

“I’m gonna fucking kill them.” You fumed, pacing the room, so blinded by your anger you had forgotten you were with Sam. You had promised him you could watch Waterworld after class because you’d never seen it before and it was his favorite movie.

“She is such a fucking bitch. Why the fuck didn’t she fucking tell me?! She could have put a fucking sock on the door or sent a text or fucking something Jesus fucking Christ! Like I love her, but fuck!” You were beyond angry. After an already overstimulating day and a failed assignment handed back, you were already on edge before you walked in on Jordan and Marie. Now sexiled to the lounge while your roommate finishes with his girlfriend, not caring about your plans at all.

“I fucking told him too! I told him you were coming over!” You say, upset, and quite honestly still in shock, not expecting to see two of your friends fucking on a Tuesday afternoon.

“Maybe they just forgot.” Sam proposes.

“How could she fucking forget what time I come home every fucking Tuesday?!” You huff, sitting down on the couch. You sit in silence before thinking it over.

“No, you’re right… they probably just forgot…” You feel a pit in your stomach and tears starting to well up in your eyes. You try to keep them at bay. You don’t need an acid leak today. “Yeah Jordan totally forgot. Oh fuck. I shouldn’t have gotten so mad.” You feel your body crumbling in on itself. You hate getting mad. You were so scared of your own anger. You also felt like Jordan didn’t deserve it. Yeah he could be an ass sometimes, but Jordan was your roommate and your friend.

“Hey what’s going on you look upset- well more upset than you were before… okay maybe not more upset, but a different kind of upset…” Sam’s voice trails off. He wasn’t always the best with words either.

“I just feel so bad.” The tears start to slip down your face.

“Why do you feel bad? You just walked in on two of your friends having sex in your own room. It’s never happened to me, but I think it’s normal to be annoyed.” He sits down next to you. When he gets a closer look at your face he sees the red marks on your cheeks. You were used to the burn by now. You hated crying, but sometimes you couldn’t stop yourself. Sam moves to wipe away some of your tears.

“Doesn’t that hurt?” You ask.

“They used to electrocute me daily at the Woods. This is nothing.”

“I’m sorry.” The ache in your stomach grows. You feel like such a burden.

“Why are you sorry?” He asks.

“Because you shouldn’t have to deal with this.”

“I don’t have to do anything. I’m here because I want to be.” He smiles.

“But I’m too much. This is too much. You have your own shit to deal with. I’m so fucking sorry, Sam.” You try to hold back more tears. You feel awful.

“Hey, don’t apologize. You’ve done so much for me. You promised you’d always be there for me. Let me return the favor. You’re so kind to everyone, just let me be kind to you.”

“I’m sorry.” You whisper again in a broken voice.

“Why do you keep saying sorry? Are you embarrassed?” He asks. You nod.

“Don’t be embarrassed. Multiple mental hospitals, remember?” He jokes, making a face and pointing to himself. You laugh quietly.

“Just the life of a broken fucking brain.” He laughs, but there’s something sad underneath.

“You know I don’t think you’re a monster right?”

“Why are you bringing that up now?” He asks.

“Well sometimes I think you believe the doctors at the Woods a little too much. I just wanted to make sure you know that I know that you’re trying and you’re a good guy.” You smile.

“For what it’s worth I don’t think you’re a monster either. You think I’m a good guy, but I think you’re the goodest person I know.” He smiles. “Is goodest even a word?” He asks.

“I don’t think so, but I appreciate the compliment.” You smile. You don’t know when it happened, but you start to realize that Sam had successfully distracted you and calmed you from your meltdown. You find his arm around you, as you lean into him on the lounge couch.

“I’m so glad I met you.” He smiles.

“I’m so glad I met you too.”

[its-time-to-write]

Hi there!! I absolutely adore your writing, and I was wondering if I could request a little something about Jamie being your guest to a wedding?? Just something sweet and fluffy because I feel like he’d be a spectacular wedding date. Love you!!

Here you go! Haven’t been able to write as much this week, I had finals and in between tests and papers, I’ve been pretty much living at the doctor’s. My brain is feeling a little fried, so I hope this is a coherent fic because I’ve tried to proofread a bunch and it all just looks like squiggles to me, so… anon, if you read this, send me your honest feedback in my inbox. Love ya!🍊💚

i’m glad you exist

“What’s this?” Jamie asks from his position on your kitchen island. 

You glance up from the stove. “What’s what?” 

He holds up an envelope rimmed in gold. 

“Oh, that’s an invite to my old roommate’s wedding. Remember I told you about her? Calls everyone ‘queen?’”

Jamie’s face shows recognition. “Right, yeah, she the one dating that motivational speaker?”

You laugh. “Yeah, they got together a month after I met her. He lived one floor down. Anyway, their wedding’s in a few months so I left the invitation out so I’d remember to RSVP.”

Jamie’s engrossed in the details on the invitation. “Says you can bring a plus one.”

“Yeah,” you reply, “probably won’t though. It’s back home, so, it’s not just a weekend-type deal. My mom and dad want me to come stay for like a week and a half.” You turn back to the stove and narrowly avoid burning the food. “You like your dinner a little crispy, right?”

“Babe,” Jamie says slowly, “you stayin’ with your parents?”

“Nah,” you say, transferring the food onto plates, “too crowded. And loud. My mom always has all the grandkids over all the time.” Your older sister has two kids, and your older brother has three. “She offered, but I told her I’d just get an AirBnB or something.”

“Y’know,” he says, taking the plates and moving to the table, “it’s on the off season. Don’t have any branding deals that week either.”

“Jamie,” you begin, a smile beginning to spread across your face, “are you offering to go to this wedding with me? And meet my parents?”

Jamie shrugs nonchalantly. 

“You are!” you say gleefully, “Oh my god, my mom is going to lose her mind. You know she absolutely loves you, right? She talks about their trip out here all the time. And this time you can meet my whole family, like my sister and her husband, they’re definitely my favorite because my niece and I have the same middle name. Plus my brother is always busy with work and his wife is cool, I guess, but we don’t have a lot in common? Except one time we watched High School Musical together, and she knew all the dances and all the words! It was crazy. And we’ll definitely have to go to the beach, do you know how to surf-?”

You ramble on happily as Jamie just grins at you, digging into his food. 

—

It’s wedding week, and your dad picks you up from the airport. You and Jamie are on your way to your parents’ house before checking into your own house and you’re confident that most of your family is going to be there. Your parents are the only ones who have met Jamie in person, and right now your dad and Jamie are in the front of the car chatting on about who knows what. You just know you’re tired, and you’re grateful that your dad picked you up a coffee. You’re probably going to steal Jamie’s too, because he does not need more energy and yours is gone way too quick. It’s nice to be home. The sun is shining, and the streets are familiar. You’re looking forward to seeing your old friends, and showing off your gorgeous footballer boyfriend.

They’d all heard about him of course, and were more than thrilled that you had finally found someone who actually liked being around you. That sounds terrible. You’re not annoying. You just have a habit of being with men who see you as a chore, not for the wonderful person you are. The person Jamie sees you to be.

You’re pulling into the driveway, and just as you suspected, the entire family is there. You notice your brother’s Range Rover and your sister’s Jeep. You smile to yourself. How very like them.

You hop out of the car, grab Jamie’s hand, and the door is open before you even make it all the way up to it. Your mom’s arms are open for a hug which you reach for except she turns away at the last moment and hugs Jamie first?

“Mom!” you say, laughing, “I’m your literal daughter and I haven’t seen you in forever!”

She smiles and pinches Jamie’s cheek. “I’ve spent more time with you than with him. You’ll survive.”

She wraps you in a warm hug then says, “Come meet the family, Jamie! And you’re staying for dinner. You can get to your house after you’ve taken a break.”

You shake your head and Jamie just grins. Poor boy has no idea what he’s getting himself into.

—

Jamie was thoroughly interrogated by your family, including your nieces and nephews (“Why do you call it football instead of soccer? Did you bring us candy?”). You’re both so exhausted that as soon as you walk through the door of your AirBnB, you collapse onto the bed, fully clothed.

—

It’s the day of the wedding, and you’re stressed. You’d been fine until the exact moment that you and Jamie began walking up to the venue. Everything is fine, you’re walking hand-in-hand, but then you just stop. 

“Jamie,” you say, tugging on his hand, “Jamie I can’t do this.”

He turns to you in surprise. “What d’you mean you can’t do this?” 

“I mean, it’s a lot of people I haven’t seen in forever and I don’t know, I’m just freaking out.”

Jamie laughs of all things. “Babe, it’s all right. Look, you’re with me, yeah? And I’m fucking amazin’. And you’re fucking amazin’. So whatever you’re worried about, ain’t a problem.”

Sometimes you forget how cocky Jamie can be. And how much it can boost your confidence. 

You blow out a breath. “Thanks babe. You’re right, it’ll be fine.”

—

It was more than fine. Like, way more than fine. Your friend looked lovely, and she was overjoyed to see you, and Jamie was the absolute best. He befriended your entire table and insisted you dance with him for every song. He was weirdly good at it, too. 

“It’s all in the hips, babe,” he said.

It definitely was.

Your favorite part, though, is the last dance. 

It’s a slow song, and the only people left were couples. The bride and groom had left, sneaked out a back door because she hated send-offs, so everything was winding down. 

Jamie has your hands in his, and brings them to loop around his neck.

“You alright?” he whispers. You nod. “Good,” he says, voice still low. “Wanted to make sure you had a good time. I fucking love weddings. The dancing, the food… you.” He grins and you smile back. “You look fucking gorgeous, by the way. Not sure I mentioned it earlier.”

You’re blushing now, swaying to the music as his hands circle your waist.

You say, “Thanks for coming with me, Jaim. I don’t think I would’ve had as much fun without you.”

Your hands are on the sides of his face now, thumbs tracing his cheekbones.

You lean up to kiss him and right before you do he whispers, “Gonna be us someday, yeah?”

You forget how to breathe for a moment, opting to nod instead.

Jamie smiles, and leans down to finish what you started. 

[mamaskillerqueen]

Have A Beer For Me || Jake 'Hangman' Seresin

A/N: This is sad, and short, and contains mention of Jake being with a woman. There is also a main character death. If you'd ever like more to this story, I'd be happy to add more to this world. Also! Got inspo from this song.

“Well, I have the most beautiful girl in the world waiting in my bed for me… and I don’t have it in me to make her wait much longer,”

All of the men around the table made a collection of noises. All are in the booing category. It made Hangman chuckle lowly with a shake of his head.

“I have one more cheers in me, and then I really gotta get going."

Everyone at the table quickly lifted their glasses, clinking them together as Jake started the speech he had dragged them all out to hear. Everyone knew it was coming but not a single soul was ready for it.

“Boys, I do gotta ask a favour… you know, if I don’t make it back from this one.”

“Hey man, that’s not going to happen. We all know you, you’re gonna pull through without a scratch,” Bob interrupted but with a singular glare from Hangman he snapped his mouth shut. Any protests that would have ensued were quickly shut down.

“As I was saying, if I don’t make it back, I need a few things from y'all. For starters, I don’t want any tears. My girl will have that covered. I want y'all to have a beer for me, and to keep my truck going. Big off-road treks that get the old girl dirty,” Jake laughed, trying hard to not think about how mad his girlfriend will be at his friends when they come to steal his truck.

This was the part he was dreading the most. This was where he was going to beg them to keep an eye on her. He was devastated to be going on this solo mission. It was surely a suicide mission, and prior to having met her, he was all for those. She had changed everything and he hadn’t had enough time with her. The little diamond ring that recently found its home on her finger was a testament to that.

“I need y’all to keep an eye on her, and when the time is right, you gotta find her someone who will love her like I would have. You know she deserves the world and more.”

No one acknowledges the break in his voice or the hint of tears welling up in his eyes. If all of the guys around the table were honest, they knew that this was what tonight was about. How could they not? Seeing the usually unshakable Hangman in near tears was messing them up more than they’d like to admit.

“And to end this sap fest… I’m proud I’ve gotten to be a part of this squadron. It’s been good to know y’all. Thanks for givin’ me a chance. I know I haven’t always been the best, but don’t you forget to cheer for them Longhorns on the away teams side any chance you get.”

As Hangman pulled his glass to his lips and finished off his beer the rest of his friends slowly followed suit. Rooster was the first to finish off his drink after, watching Jake carefully as he shrugged his jacket back on. They made eye contact, and Rooster couldn’t deny the sinking feeling this was the last time he’d see his newishly found friend. A nod was shared as Jake placed a hand on Coyote’s shoulder.

Javy quickly rose to his feet and followed Jake out the front doors. This was the hardest for him of everyone. He was doing his best to not let it show. Jake never talked like this. Then again, he was never ordered to a suicide mission by himself before either.

“We were gonna get married. Gave her Meemaw’s ring and everything. You’re my best man. Just needed you to know.”

Javy let out a heavy exhale, because of course he was. There would have never been a question of that. He appreciated the sentiment though, and as much as he knew he had to let his friend leave to see his girl, he really didn’t want to.

“I know, man. Always did,” Javy finally answered. His voice was a little more shaken than he would have liked it to be but neither of them acknowledged that either.

Javy held his hand out, waiting for his friend to shake it. When Jake slipped his hand into his friends they pulled each other into a hug afterwards.

“Take care of her while I’m gone,” Jake whispered.

“You got it, big man,” Javy returned in the same whisper.

Javy watched his best friend walk away, and climb into his precious truck. They used to joke that she was the only thing Jake would ever love. Boy were they wrong as ever. Javy watched as the truck disappeared into the dark, knowing it would be the last time he ever saw his best friend.

Jake’s plane ended up going down behind enemy lines. There was no rescue team. All that returned was a folded flag. Javy handed it off to his best friend's other half at his funeral. They both cried as the guns went off. In fact, there wasn’t a dry eye in the whole squadron.

The whole squad, including Phoenix and Halo, had gone to almost every Longhorns home game just so they could sit on the visitor's side and cheer as loud as they could for the home team. And every Friday night, the first and last song played on the old jukebox at the Hard Deck is always Slow Ride.

Javy and the girl who had turned his best friend into the man they had all become so proud to know took that old truck out for a nice long joy ride at least once a month. He had even introduced her to a good ole boy Jake would have hated but was exactly the kind of guy he would have wanted for her. She hasn’t been ready though, and Javy wasn’t sure she ever would be. That dainty little diamond still sits nestled right where Jake left it.

Whenever the sun starts to set, and the sky is a brilliant shade of reddish purple, Javy finds himself with a beer that isn’t his brand down by the shoreline. He whispers the latest updates of life to his best friend, holds the beer up for a cheers, and tells Jake just how much he’s loved and missed with tears in his eyes.

[didhewinkback]

you're my best friend

the last chapter of the something old universe. it is, in fact, the proposal. the photos are more for a general vibe, he is not wearing a baseball cap when he proposes okay.

warnings: smut; switches pov halfway through. word count: 18k

---

June 2022

“I wanna marry you.”

You freeze, the plate in your hand clattering onto the table as you look up at him, his own eyes as wide as you imagine yours are, looking like he absolutely did not mean to say what he just said. Your heartbeat is thundering in your ears as you stare back at him, his mouth opens and closes a few times like the words won’t come out.

“Are you -” you start to ask but stop yourself, not sure if it is totally ruining the moment if you ask if this is what you think it is, if he is actually proposing to you in the backyard in Italy while you’re wearing your ugliest pair of gym shorts, covered in stains from the dinner you had just finished cooking. It’d be fine if he was - more than fine, it’s just you haven’t talked about any of this and he’s still on tour for another year - 

“No. ‘m not - this isn’t -” he cuts off your mental spiral, as he plants his hands on the back of the chair he’s standing behind, shaking his head. “This isn’t a proposal.”

“Ookay.”

“It’s a… proposal for a proposal.”

“Okay?” you say with a laugh as he grimaces, head dropping down with a big exhale. 

“Swear ‘ve planned this out better, been practicing what to say -” he grumbles, running a hand through his hair before holding it out to you. “Can you come over here, please?”

You walk over towards him, taking his hand and he pulls you in, wrapping his arms around your waist as you bring your hands up to his face, thumbs rubbing over the pink tinge blooming on his cheeks.  

“Your heart’s racing,” he mumbles, pulling you closer against him. “Can feel it.”

“Yeah, well, you gave me a bit of a shock there.” you say and he groans, leaning his head into your hands. “You’re blushing.”

“Feel like I mucked this all up.”

“You haven’t -”

“I didn’t mean to say it like that -” 

“It’s alright,” you say gently. “I just don’t really know what you meant to say?”

His eyes graze over your features as he takes a deep breath, steeling himself.

“I want to marry you.” he says, the look in his eyes making your breath catch in your throat. “Been thinking about it for a while now and think - I know it’ll be the best thing I ever do. But I - ”

He pauses, looking down for a moment before looking back up at you, his eyes a bit unreadable as he shifts his weight to his other foot. You brush your thumb along his cheekbone before sliding your hands down to his shoulders, squeezing the back of his neck once. 

“But I know that ‘s a bit complicated because I’ve done this bit before.” he continues, eyes flitting across your face when your stomach drops, his ever perceptible gaze picking up on even the slightest change of your expression before he quickly speaks again. “‘S important to me that we talk about this ‘nd see where we’re both at with it. Because I don’t want to do anything that’s gonna make y’ feel uncomfortable or second rate or summat -” 

He cuts himself off, brow furrowing as he shakes his head in frustration, staring off into the yard, eyes watching the slowly falling sun. He turns back to face you after a few moments, new determination in his eyes. 

“This means everything to me, you and I.” he says, eyes never wavering from yours. “Everything. But I want us to do this whatever way you want. I want to spend the rest of my life with you, however you want to. I mean - if you want to -”

“I do.” you say, breathlessly cutting him off, heart stopping in your throat when you watch the way your words hit him, his whole face opening up, his eyes blinking rapidly. 

“Okay. That’s -” he huffs out a laugh, swallowing before speaking. “I mean that’s good. That’s really - Christ, I’ve never been less smooth in my life -” 

“I know, what is going on with you?” you ask, laughing when he drops his head with a groan. “Did you think I was going to say something different?”

“No - I just.” he stops himself with a sigh. You give him a second, before gently cupping his jaw and lifting his face back towards you. He looks at you, eyes grazing over your features before he plants a kiss to your palm. “‘s been fucking me up a bit, thinking about how I may have ruined some part of this for you. ‘S a big step, this. And it bloody kills me to think that my past may have soured this for you. ‘S the last thing I ever wanted to do-” 

“Whoa, hey, I know.” you say gently, brushing your thumb along his cheekbone, the days old stubble scratching your skin as he goes quiet, watching you with rapt attention. “It’s not been soured at all.”

“No?” he asks, hands tightening around your waist. 

“No,” you say with a firm shake of your head. “I mean, I don’t love thinking about you proposing to someone else but I don’t think that has anything to do with us, not now, after all this time has passed. It feels very different now, you know? Everyone’s moved on and your bloody Uncle Mack has finally stopped making jokes at weddings about how your cousins should watch out for me, how it only takes Twist men one time to get it right -”

Harry groans, squeezing his eyes shut as you laugh. “I still am really sorry about that. Mum did give him a proper bollocking for it, though, if that makes it any better.”

“It does.”

“Good.” he says, the corner of his mouth hitching up slightly, his shoulders relaxing, looking the most at ease he has since this conversation began.

“You know, I have given this a fair bit of thought myself this past year,” you say, you can feel his breath hitch. “And never once has anything I imagined felt soured or ruined by anything you or I have done. So I really wish you’d talk to me, instead of tying yourself up in knots over it -”

“Talking to you now, aren’t I?” he grumbles sheepishly.

“Yeah, and how’s that going for you?”

“Oiii -”

“Can feel you sweating through your shirt -”

“Oh cheers for that, darling. Next time I have one of the most important conversations of my life I’ll be sure to keep my perspiration levels in check -” 

“Perspiration levels? You are such a nerd -” 

“Yeah, a nerd you’d like to marry - 

“Oh god, you’re right,” you say, wrapping your arms around his neck, heartbeat picking up when his mouth twitches into a smile. “What does that say about me?” 

“That you’re very charitable.” he says, arms tightening around your waist, his gaze dropping to your lips. “Or quite stupid.” 

You snort out a laugh, leaning in slow, nudging your nose against his.

“Feeling quite lucky actually,” you mumble against his mouth before pressing your lips to his. He instantly crushes you against his chest as he kisses you back, taking his time, kissing you the exact way you like to be kissed. He’s mumbling in between kisses, “‘s me who’s the lucky one, baby” the words falling against your lips as he refuses to pull away for too long, kissing you like he has all the time in the world. 

He pulls away slowly, lips dragging across your skin as he kisses a line up your face, resting his mouth against your forehead. 

“Nothing has ever felt like this before,” he says quietly. “Never wanted anything more in my life.” 

“Me either.”

“I did want to talk about it for real though.” he says, pressing a kiss to your forehead before pulling back to look you in the eyes. “I’d like to propose to you, properly, get down on one knee, tell you how much you’ve made me a better man…unless that is something you don’t -”

“No, I would.” you say, his lips twitching up at how quickly you cut him off. “I would like that. But I’d like that to just be us. No one else but you and me. if you do it publicly or have a flash mob planned, I’m going to say no.” 

“There goes all my plans,” he says, soft smile on his face as he brings his hand up to cup your jaw. “What else would you like?”

“I’d like to have a wedding.” you say, the look on his face making your stomach swoop, your cheeks heat up as his thumb brushes against your skin, matching grins practically splitting your faces in half. “Would quite like to see you cry when I walk down the aisle.” 

“Baby, ‘m gonna weep.” he says, pulling your face towards his so he can kiss you, though it's not much of a kiss, given how wide you’re both smiling, giggling against each other's mouths. “What else?”

“I’d like to say vows to you”, you say, your breath catching as you watch him take a deep breath, his eyes going misty. “Tell you that it’s only ever been you, for me. And that it’ll over ever be you.”

He cuts you off with a kiss, his lips gentle against yours despite the way his grip has tightened as he walks you a step back so you’re flush against the table, his hips resting against yours. 

“What else?”

“I’d like to go on a long honeymoon and have a lot of sex,” you say and he huffs a laugh against your neck, tapping your hip with two fingers before helping you push yourself up onto the table, widening your legs so he can fit in between, his hands slowly roaming your body. “I mean, a lot.”

“What else?” he asks softly, lips dragging against your skin as he plants a line of slow kisses up your neck. 

“I’d like to be your wife,” you say, breath catching when he pulls his face back to look at you, adoring eyes trained on yours. “Been dreaming about what it’s going to feel like when you call me it for the first time.” 

“I’d like to be your husband.” he says gruffly. “‘S all I -”

“Me too.”

You regard each other for a moment, hearts racing, misty eyes locked on each other, in awe of this life you’re building together, of the road that lays ahead of you. Knowing the person right in front of you is who you want to be with for the rest of your life. And knowing they feel the same. 

You can’t really help it when the tears start to fall, feeling overwhelmed with the love you have for the man in front of you. Overwhelmed by how much that love has grown and shifted over the course of your life, never not a part of you, never stronger than it is now. He cups your jaw with his hand, thumb softly brushing away the tears, looking none the more held together himself.

“I know, baby. I know.” he says. “Me too. S’ - just - c’mere.”

He leans in, kissing you with everything he has, hand steady on your jaw as his lips drag against yours, pulling you closer to kiss you deeper. You wind your arms around his neck, your hand coming up to play with the hairs on the nape of his neck as his tongue slides over yours. He’s holding you like the most precious thing, his other hand tightening its hold on your hip as he kisses you over and over.

He pulls back to breathe, leaning back in to kiss you once before pulling back, his lips dancing along your cheeks until he hears you laugh, pressing one more kiss to your temple before pulling away. 

“Can I say one more logistical question and then I swear this sweaty conversation will be over ‘nd you can make me sweat in other ways -”

“Jesus Christ -” you say and he barks out a laugh, smiling wide when you laugh with him, his hands holding you tighter as he smacks a kiss to your forehead with a giggle.

“‘S just - I’d like to wait a bit.” he says. “Work is still quite crazy ‘nd I’ve kinda got this fantasy of getting to be in one place with you for a while once we’re engaged. Not having to jet off to any obligations or anything. Unless you’d rather-”

“No, no I don’t think I’m ready for all that quite yet. That makes sense to me, waiting a bit.” you say. “I’m not really in a rush, I’m still quite content being your girlfriend.”

“Oh that’s great to hear, cheers for the feedback.” he says, grinning when you giggle. “So how’d you feel about like… sometime after the end of tour next year?”

“Yeah, I think I could be someone’s fiancée by then.” you say, unable to stop the grin spreading across your face as he smiles back at you, the two of you just staring at each other giddily. “I’d have to check my calendar, but I should be able to squeeze you in.”

“Never had a problem doing that before,” he says, giggling when you swat at him before grabbing your hand and interlacing your fingers, thumb brushing over your knuckles. “So that sounds alright to you then?”

“Yeah, it’s alright with me.” you say, and he squeezes your hand, planting a kiss to your knuckles. 

“I love you so much baby.”

“I love you too.” you say, words drifting into a sigh when he leans in to capture your lips. His hands fall to your hips, gripping tighter as his mouth starts to pull away from yours, planting a line of kisses along your jaw, slowly making his way down your neck and taking his time.

“Is dinner gonna be fucked if I do you on this table right now?” he says, and your laugh quickly turns into a gasp as his tongue darts out along your neck, sucking at the skin and making his presence known. 

“We can reheat it.” you say breathlessly. “Or go into town later. I don’t care. I need you, I need -”

“Yeah, yeah - me too baby - ”

He lifts off your neck to capture your lips once more, immediately deepening the kiss as he groans into your mouth. His hands slide down your hips and trail along the front of your thighs, gently guiding them wider. He pulls back, licking his lips as his eyes roam your body, his pupils blown wide as his chest heaves before leaning in to kiss you once more. 

“Suppose I should should start practicing getting down on my knees.” he mumbles against your mouth, pulling back slowly with a wink as he slowly sinks down to the ground, pulling you closer to the edge of the table as his lips start to trail down your thighs and everything else fades away.

September 2023

“This spot look okay?” he asks, pulling you to a stop on the middle of the hill. You look out at the completely empty field that surrounds you, the view of the town just a ways down the hill, almost sparkling in the September sun. It’s just you and him for miles.

“Bit crowded, innit?” you say and he snorts in reply, waiting for you to look back at him so you can see his eye roll in full effect.

“Good one.” he deadpans, seemingly taking your snarky answer as confirmation that this is a nice spot to stop, as he squeezes your hand once before letting go, placing the picnic basket on the ground. You reach into your bag to pull out the blanket, unfurling it before laying it down and taking a seat as he gets to work on unpacking the basket and you know better than to disturb an artist at work.

It’s a new hobby of his, borne out of a competition with Gemma a few weeks ago to see who could arrange the best snacks for the boat. Naturally, he lost and has not been a decent sport about it. He is now a man possessed. You bite your tongue as you watch him pull out the board - yes he packed a board - and begin to assemble the charcuterie with utter concentration. 

“Can feel y’ about to laugh at me.” he says, not daring to look up from his careful arrangement of cheeses.

“I’m not even saying anything!”

“Yeah but you forget how well I know you,” he mutters, pulling a container of sliced peaches out of the basket and making quick work of getting them on the board. “Can feel it in your stare.”

“I -”

“But don’t you worry, baby,” he continues and you can feel him on the precipice of a dramatic monologue, “I’ve dealt with my fair share of critics. People who don’t understand the vision of a true artist, don’t appreciate the skills required to tackle such a task. I know how to rise against adversity -”

“Jesus Christ -”

“I believe in myself ‘nd my work,” he barrels on, undeterred, trying his best to maintain a straight face but you can see the corner of his mouth twitch up, “‘m not afraid to face my haters -”

“Oh my god,” you say, laughter breaking through your words as you tackle him back against the blanket, straddling his hips as you slap your hand across his mouth, his eyes twinkling with mirth as he looks back at you, looking all too pleased with himself as his hands coming up to rest against your thighs. “Are you done? Can you be? Please?” 

He shakes his head, eyes crinkling as you slide your hand down, resting on his chest, feeling the steady thrum of his heartbeat under your palm.

“I’ve got more in me baby. But you’ve found my kryptonite,” he says, eyes darting down to your mouth before looking back up at you, hands sliding up to squeeze at your hips. “Quickest way to shut me up. You on top of me.”

“You forget how well I know you,” you say, in a horrible impression of his voice, expecting him to take the bait, crack a joke but instead his face softens as he shakes his head almost imperceptibly, his hand coming up to rest at the back of your neck, pulling you in. 

“Could never forget that. Not ever.” he whispers. “Come here.”

He pulls you in, his lips pressing against yours so gently you almost forget how you ended up here, trying to shut him up from his stupid joke that you secretly loved, which he knows as well as you. 

You both pull back slowly, slightly panting into each other’s mouths as you lock eyes and he’s got that look on his face, the look that makes your breath catch in your throat, the look that makes your heart race, the hairs on the back of your neck stand up. The look you’ve seen more times this year than any other, the look that you won’t let yourself fall for this time. Because you know what's on the other side of this look. You can feel it in your bones, can read it in his eyes, knowing you want the same things just as badly. Looking at you like you hold the keys to the universe. Like it’s just the two of you on this planet. Like he’s moments away from saying those words you’ve been waiting for, the words you talked about last summer.

You saw it on his face after his last night at Wembley, convinced he was about to propose to you stark naked in his dressing room, his dungarees still pooling around his ankles. You saw it the morning after the last night of tour, when he slept in the latest he’s slept in two years, after he rolled over to find you quietly reading as you waited for him to wake up, sleepy eyes locking with yours. You’ve seen flashes of it all week, when you came back from the market when you got the exact honey he likes, when you woke up early three days ago to join him on his morning run, when you decided to go for a midnight swim completely naked two nights ago. 

He’s always been shit at surprises is the thing, always too excited to see the person’s reaction so he inevitably spoils it anyway. It’s something Gemma has ragged on him about for years, the amount of times during their childhood that he blurted out the gifts they got their mum for her various birthdays, always too excited to see her reaction that he couldn’t contain himself. It happened throughout your friendship too.  Like the time he burst into your room on Boxing Day when you were ten to tell you your families were going on a joint holiday that year mere hours before your parents intended to surprise you, or the time he flew on a red eye from Paris mid filming to see you on your 22nd birthday, completely ruining Roxy’s elaborate ruse by blurting out, “I’m outside” on the phone when he was supposed to pretend he was stuck on set all night.  So you’ve always had the feeling you’d know when he was about to propose, that he wouldn’t be able to contain himself due to the excitement and gravity of the occasion but so far this motherfucker has been a steel trap.  

But you can see it now, in the look on his face. And you can feel it, you swear you can. It’s in the way he’s slowly brushing your hair from your face, his other hand resting on your hip, a light but possessive hold. But you know better than to fall for it this time, know this will be another one of those moments where he can knock the wind out of you with a mere look in his eyes and then say something completely mundane like…

“Food’s ready.” 

Exactly. You barely suppress an eye roll, giving him a quick kiss as you roll off of him, though he doesn’t let you get far as he sits up, rearranging himself so you can settle back between his legs, your back pressed against his chest, the platter of snacks within reach. 

“Did you already take a pic to send to Gem or should I wait before diving in?”

“Y’ know sometimes, the artist just creates for the sake of creating. Doesn't need an audience to validate his passion - ,” he says, laughing when you groan, pressing a kiss to the back of your head before mumbling, “course I’ve already taken a picture.”

You dive into the food from there, reaching into the basket to pull out the wine you packed, pouring it into the paper cups you brought and handing him a glass. You’re both buzzing about having this time together, just the two of you, no work obligations, no friends or family to host, just getting to hold each other close and talk about everything and nothing. 

He teases you about the absolute state you left the kitchen in a few weeks ago, when you Gemma and Roxy had a few too many and were convinced you could make authentic Italian pizza, which resulted in more dough stuck to the ceiling than you’d like to admit. You tell him about the early stages of planning you’ve been doing for your parents 30th anniversary party, desperate to properly celebrate the most aspirational love story you’ve ever known, two people who have always put their love for the other first in everything they do, just two best friends who have loved each other deeply all this time. And he only asks about 15 times to see pictures of Sammy, the puppy you’re adopting in two weeks when you get back to London. It’s mostly just the same two pictures he’s seen one hundred and nine times but that doesn’t stop his face from completely lighting up all the same, as he says “he’s gonna be ours”. 

Hours pass, but it could be minutes, time always seeming to fly when the two of you are together.  And most of the food is gone, the two of you sitting in comfortable silence as you play with his hands resting in your lap as his head rests against yours when you’re almost bowled over with emotion for a moment. It’s just - you love him. Can’t believe that after all this time, you can still have the most fun just sitting and talking to each other, never getting bored of hearing every thought in his head or getting to make him laugh or being on the receiving end of one of the cheesiest jokes of all time. 

“This is just one of my favorite things,” you say softly.

“What is?” he asks.

“Talking to you. Listening to you talk. Like in my life I’ve probably talked to you more than I’ve talked to anyone else and I still just never get tired of it.” you say, leaning back into his chest as his arms tighten around you. “I just really love you, you know?” 

“Yeah, I do.” he says softly, his hand coming up under your chin to guide your face back to his, kissing you gently as his thumb strokes against your cheekbone. He pulls back slowly, planting kisses along your cheek, temple and hairline, arms wrapping around you to pull you tighter against him. “Do y’ remember the first time we met?”

“When we were six?” you ask and he hums in response. “I mean…not really? I can’t tell if what I remember is because I actually remember it or if I’d been told it. I remember being really obsessed with Gemma.”

“Oii –” 

“Just because - hey, let me finish,” you say with a laugh, “She was nine going on ten and we were only six and she was so bloody cool and I got to be neighbors with her.”

“Fair play.”

“Thank you very much.” you say, smiling at how easily his delicate ego can be bruised. “I can remember like, flashes of that time but my more vivid memories with you are from years later. But my mum talks about it all the time - when we first moved to Holmes Chapel, meeting your family and it always, always makes her cry.” 

“Why?” he asks softly, his hands finding yours again, squeezing lightly. 

“I think -” you start to stay, brow furrowing as you try to place these memories flashing through your mind. It’s nothing tangible, there’s no clear image in your mind but you’re grasping at the ghost of a feeling, that that little six year old you felt, surprising yourself with how emotional you feel. “I think she had been quite nervous about the move, feeling badly we could no longer afford our old place once Dad lost his job and she’d been really nervous she just fucked my whole life up, taking me away from the friends I had made at that age. I was quite a loud kid but became pretty quiet when we first moved, like I could sense that my entire life was changing even if I didn’t fully understand why, so she got scared that I would just be alone all the time or have a hard time making friends. But she always says that - oh fuck, this is going to make me cry now too -”

“What is it?” he asks gently, thumbs rubbing over the backs of your hands.

“She says that there was a moment that she knew I would be okay, and that we’d be okay and that her and Dad had made the right call. It was a few weeks after we moved, she had left me playing outside for a moment when she ran in to grab something and a few minutes later she heard me laughing really, really hard. Like when she tells this story, she says she’d never heard me laugh that hard before. And she came back out to see what was going on, and there you were. And we were just playing together and really cracking each other up. And that’s when she knew we’d be alright. Because of you.”

You can feel his sharp intake of breath and you turn in his hold, his hands falling to your hands to steady you as you settle onto his lap. You just take your time looking at him, the man that boy grew into, the handsomest man you’ve ever known, the only man you’ve ever loved. God, you love him. You’ve always loved him, but it’s different now. You’ve never felt like this before, about anyone, him included. What your younger selves thought was love was merely scratching the surface of what it means to know him like this, to be entrusted with his heart like this. It’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you, him. It feels impossible to describe most days, how the hell you got lucky enough to fall in love with your best friend, to have him love you back just as hard. You blink back into focus and he’s got that look on his face again, his eyes glassier than usual as he swallows back against the emotion. 

“Y’ never told me that story before,” he says, leaning into your touch when your hands come up to frame his face.

“Think Ang was saving it for a big speech someday. So if you hear it again, just pretend you didn’t.” you say and he huffs a watery laugh. “She’s got a new ending for it now though.”

“What’s that?” his voice is barely above a whisper.

“That there are three times she’s known deep in her bones that I’d be alright, that I was right where I was meant to be.” you say, breath catching as you blink back tears, softly brushing his hair back over his ear. “One was when she found us playing when we were six, one was when I gave that speech at graduation and the third… was when you came out onto that courtyard, looking for me.”

“Baby -”

You close the gap between you in a millisecond, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wraps his around your waist, pulling you impossibly closer as he kisses you back, giving as good as he’s getting, barely giving you time to breathe before he’s diving back in for another one. His lips drag against yours as he licks expertly into your mouth, goosebumps erupting all over your body as his hand comes up to cup the back of your neck, the two of you getting lost in each other. 

You pull back eventually, unable to stop yourself from kissing along his jaw, planting a final kiss against his temple before pulling back completely. 

“Thank you for playing in the backyard with me.” you say softly.

“Could play with you right now if y’ want.”

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Not like that, you deviant mind.” he laughs, lying through his teeth. “Could play cops ‘nd robbers or summat -”

“Roleplay. Kinky.”

He honks out a laugh at that, head tilting back as his shoulders shake and you can’t help but laugh with him. 

“Dirty, dirty mind.”

“Yeah, I learned from the best.” you say and he grins, eyes crinkling as he looks back at you. 

“Hey,” he says, keeping one hand on your hip as he reaches back into the bag, pulling out this camera and handing it to you. “Could y’ take a picture of us please?”

“You wanna do a selfie?” you ask and he nods with a smile. 

You turn back around in his hold, pulling the camera up to face the two of you. He nestles his chin onto your shoulder, wrapping his arms around your waist and you can feel the movement of his cheek against your face, his beard lightly scratching you as he breaks into a wide grin that you can’t help but match. You take the picture going to pull the camera back but he stops you.

“Do another one please.” he murmurs and you’re about to press the trigger when he turns his head, pressing a kiss to your cheek as you take the picture. You scrunch your nose almost involuntarily, feeling a swoop of butterflies as a blush forms on your cheeks like you’re fifteen years old. 

It just never gets old, with him. The way he wears his adoration on his sleeve, the little things he does almost subconsciously to keep you close, letting you know you’re always on his mind. Like how he can’t walk next to you without having his hands on you in some way, whether it’s holding your hand or wrapping his arm around your shoulder, sometimes just sliding his fingers through your belt loops.

It’s just every time he’s next to you, like a few weeks ago when you were sat next to each other, both in separate conversations but he slipped his hand along your thigh, thumb rubbing back and forth as he laughed with Mitch. The way he lets you sleep in any time he can, like this morning when he quietly slipped out for a long run before sliding back into bed a few hours later to wake you up slowly, pressing soft kisses to your neck as he slipped down under the sheets. It’s the way he listens, always hanging onto your every word even if you’re telling the most boring story in the world. It’s a lot, to be loved by him. It’s the greatest thing that’s ever happened to you and you can only hope that he feels your love just as strongly as you do his.

“Where’d you go?” he asks softly, brushing your hair back from your face as you turn to face him. 

“Just thinking about you.” you say and his smile softens into something more private, something just for you. “How much I love you.”

He takes a deep, shaky breath, thumb softly dragging down the side of your face as his eyes roam over your features.

“I love you so much, baby.” he says, pulling you in to kiss you gently. 

He pulls back, kissing the corner of your mouth before reaching down to take the camera out of your hands, now aiming at you.

“Oh, H -” you groan, instinctively bringing a hand up to cover the lens before he gently grabs your wrist and pulls it out of the lens’ way.

“Indulge me, darling.”

“You’ve got nine hundred pictures of me on there.”

“Yeah, well, ‘d like to make it nine hundred and one.” he says, already adjusting the focus on the camera as he holds it up, clearly not taking no for an answer. You heave a sigh, smiling when you hear him chuckle as he takes the picture. And then takes another one, and another one. And another one. 

“Oh my god, you said one!” you laugh, pushing the camera down away from your face as he laughs.

“Changed my mind. Needed photographic evidence of me making you blush,” he says, trying to pull the camera back up before you push it down again. “Alright, alright. Can’t blame a man for trying to capture his favorite subject.”

You’re helpless to do anything but shake your head at him, heart skipping a beat as he smiles back at you, quickly putting the camera back in the bag before wrapping his arms around you once more, burying his face into your neck. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, the two of you just sitting there for a few moments, holding each other close, breathing each other in. 

“What do you say,” he starts, mumbling into your neck as he slowly presses a line of kisses along your jaw before pulling back completely, smiling softly at you before continuing, “we head over to Leonardo’s to grab a drink and check out the sunset? Supposed to be a good one.”

“That sounds nice.” you say, running your fingers through his hair as he smiles back at you, a twinkle in his eyes that you can’t quite decipher. 

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. Let’s go.” you say, smacking a kiss to his cheek before standing up and helping him up as you both start to clear up the picnic. You can feel his eyes on you more often than not, and every time you look over at him you catch him staring right back, smiling at you in a way that makes your heart skip a beat. You fold up the blanket together and he smacks a kiss to your forehead when you meet in the middle, giggling when you roll your eyes. He gathers the bags, putting them one on top of the other on his shoulder and picks up the picnic basket, always making sure to leave one hand free for you to grab onto. 

“Ready?” you ask, holding your hand out towards him and he looks back at you and suddenly your simple question feels like something more, though you can’t quite put your finger on what. It just feels like there is something in the air, like you’re on the cusp of something bigger. But you just let the thought pass, deciding to just exist in the present moment instead of overanalyze it because there he is, smiling that brilliant smile at you, eyes full of love as they stare back into yours.

—

He takes a moment to take everything in. The slowly sinking sun, the trees blowing in the summer breeze, the town sprawling out below. It’s been stunning all day, almost as if he planned the weather along with everything else. The perfect day for his perfect girl. He looks over at you, patiently waiting, knowing how he likes to take his time, to soak a moment in, commit the day to memory, take a second to express his gratitude to whoever in the universe let him have days like this, let him have you. 

He looks at you, gorgeous, stunning, beautiful you, and the way you were looking back at him, your hand outstretched towards his. He doesn't know what he did to deserve this, to deserve you looking at him like that but he’s determined to do everything he can to get you to look at him that way for the rest of his life. He takes your hand, squeezing it once, resisting the urge to run his thumb along your bare ring finger, feeling giddy with the knowledge that this would be the last time he would hold your hand without a ring on that finger. Holy shit. 

He’s trying desperately to sneak in a meditative breath, to manually slow his heart rate down so as to not raise suspicion as you make your way back towards town. Trying his best to appear calm, cool and collected and not like he was mere minutes away from one of the biggest moments of his entire life.

He’s not nervous, necessarily. He knows what you’re going to say, feels like the luckiest man in the world that he knows with absolute certainty how you feel about him, that you are in this as much as he is. He just needs to get this moment exactly right. He’s spent a lifetime choosing his words carefully but never more so than now, desperately hoping the words he came up with can begin to encapsulate all that you mean to him, knowing no words will truly ever be be able to do you and all that you are justice but he’s going to give it his best try. 

It’s been a perfect day so far. He slipped out in the early hours while you were still sleeping under the guise of a long morning run to get everything set up, facetiming his Mum and Gemma and your parents sporadically, texting Johnny, Roxy,  Archie and Jeff in between set ups before he put his phone away, wanting this day to just be about the two of you, wanting to set up as quickly as possible to get back to where you were waiting for him in bed. 

And now, after spending the afternoon on a picnic, wrapped up in each other with no one else for miles, here you both are, turning down familiar streets as you make your way closer to Leonardo’s and he feels like he might scream, the energy building inside him coming to a near boiling point. He’s just really bloody excited, is the thing. More excited than he’s ever been in his life, which is saying a lot, considering all he’s done this year, this life. But none of that has even come close to this. 

Because all that out there, while wonderful, while the most unbelievable thing to happen to some guy from Holmes Chapel, it belongs out there, to everyone else. He’s proud of all he’s done obviously and knows how much he’s had a hand in it but all the accolades, the adoring fans, the hundreds of shows, that comes down to a lot of people. It’s for public consumption, something to be shared with as with everyone who works with him, a team effort. It’s something he’s used to, something he’s been doing since he was sixteen years old. It’s second nature at this point, sharing himself with the world. 

But this? With you? This is his. You’re his. He’s never had anyone know him like you do, can’t believe how much more you’ve learned about each other over the past three years, becoming aware of each other’s little habits in a way you hadn’t been privy to before and using this new knowledge to care for each other. It can come down to the tiniest of things sometimes, how when he falls asleep reading - because he’s going to become a reader this year damnit, if only he could stop falling asleep three pages in, book splayed out on his chest - he’ll wake up the next morning to find the book on his bedside table, a bookmark in place of where he left off. 

How he likes to spend his mornings listening to records while he makes his coffee and will come home from a long time away to find new records added to his collection, long sought after legends you likely spent ages digging for. How he made a passing comment when you first moved in to the new flat two and half years ago about how one of his favorite things to do when he’s home is check the mail, that it makes him feel like he’s got a place he belongs, a place that’s his, somewhere he can settle down and now whenever he’s home, you never get the mail, not once, always leaving it for him, sometimes even going so far as to send a postcard from your office to the flat, a little love note, something nice for him to find as he flips through bills. 

He’s never had that before, not in romantic relationships, having typically found himself stuck in the archaic mindset that one person gets the gestures, one person gives them but it’s not like that with you. And he can’t believe how nice it feels to have someone love him like that. To be listened to and cared for like you do for him. You’ve taught him that love is paying attention, and it can be so simple, can be so effortless but it makes him feel like he’s flying, soaring. Knowing with you, he’s always got a soft place to land. And he works hard to do the same for you, to study his favorite subject. There is nothing he loves more than learning something new about you, figuring out a new way he can get you to smile. 

This is something he waited his whole life to experience, something he had given up any hope on actually finding. Resigning himself to settle for good enough, for fine. Not ever daring to think the greatest person he’s ever known was loving him all this time. He physically has to stop himself from picking up the pace, the temptation to start sprinting to Leonardo’s, to get down on his knee as soon as possible far too strong.

It’s all led to this, hasn’t it? This journey the two of you have been on, that started the day his mum dragged six year old him to meet the new neighbors next door. The day his life changed forever. The day he met the greatest friend he has ever had, who became the truest love he’s ever known. The kind of love that feels impossible to capture, too big and all encompassing to be dwindled down into a few words or a simple melody. It’s why he always has to have his hands on you, finding it easier to physically express himself when the words don’t feel like enough to capture all that you are to him, what this love feels like. It feels bigger than him and yet he knows it's his, that it belongs to him. That there’s no one else you look at like this, touch like this, love like this. There’s no one else for you. And there’s no one else for him. How fucking lucky is he?

He looks over at you and it’s almost game over, breath catching in his throat as his eyes sweep over your profile, the soft smile on your face as you look over the familiar buildings. He’s so in awe of you, so, so in love with you that he’s about to start crying in the middle of the street. He’s going to spend the rest of his life with you right here by his side, holding his hand and he’s never felt luckier in his life. You. Magnificent, luminescent, radiant you. 

He’s helpless to do anything but pull you in close, unwinding his hand from yours in favor of framing your face, praying you can’t feel the way his hand is slightly trembling. He barely gives you a second to react before he’s pressing his lips to yours. If you’re surprised, you barely show it, melting into him as you wrap your arms around his waist, his hand on your face clutching you tighter, thumb running along your cheekbone as he kisses you over and over again. He’s still holding the damn picnic basket but can’t be arsed to care, trying his best to communicate his love with every push and pull of his lips, every tease of his tongue against yours. 

He pulls away slowly, pressing kisses along every inch of your face until you laugh and push him away though he doesn’t let you get very far, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close, resting his cheek against the top of your head when you hug him back. Your hands slide up his sides, squeezing at his biceps once, seemingly unaware of the goosebumps your touch leaves in its wake before you let go, tilting your head up to look at him. 

“Were you holding that picnic basket the whole time just so you could flex?” you ask with a laugh, grin widening when he laughs with you. 

“My girl told me she’s got a thing for my arms. Gotta give the people what they want.”

“Oh my god -” you start to say but he cuts you off, kissing you once, twice, three times in rapid succession, before pulling back to plant a kiss to your cheek. Taking a moment to stare at you, the love of his bloody life. 

“Gonna miss the sunset if you keep looking at me like that.” you say softly. 

“Don’t need any view but the one I’ve got right now.” he says, heart flipping when your smile widens, your eyes crinkling as a blush blooms on your cheeks and he has to bring his hand back up to feel that warmth under his thumb. “You’re so beautiful.”

He watches in delight as you huff a breathless laugh, swaying on your feet slightly as if his words knocked you off balance.You just stare at each other for a moment, both your grins growing as you lean in to kiss him softly, squeezing his arm once before you pull back. 

“Could kiss you forever.” he mumbles against your mouth, and it’s true. But he really, really can’t wait anymore. “But actually I really want to see the sunset.” 

“Yeah, I know you do.” you say with a laugh, pushing him away gently. “Come on, we’re almost there.”

“Yeah, almost there.” he says, trying to ease the shake out of his voice as he takes your hand again, his heartbeat suddenly thundering in his ears as he can see the way your stare lingers on his face, knows you can read him like a book, that whatever you’re seeing in his eyes is giving you pause. But you don’t say anything, squeezing his hand once as you head on down the street. 

“You never answered your own question, you know.” you say, as you turn a corner, Leonardo’s coming into view and he just might scream. 

“What question?” 

“Do you remember the first time we met?” you ask, looking over at him, not yet noticing how different Leonardo’s looks at this hour, that it is completely closed,  though it’s still a bit far away so there’s still time for you to notice. But if you don’t, it is possible that he has successfully pulled off a surprise for the first time in his entire life. Okay. focus, Harry. Focus. 

“I think it’s like y’ said,” he says, letting go of your hand to wrap his arm around your shoulders, if only to hide how sweaty his palm has become. Trying his best to sound as normal as possible though his stomach is flipping with every step you take. “I can’t remember the exact day, I don’t think, though I have, like, a sense of that first day? Like standing on your step with Mum ‘nd Gem, ‘nd like, flicking Gemma’s ear.” 

“Nice to know both of our first memories of each other are about Gemma.” you say with a laugh and he squeezes you a bit tighter as you get closer and closer to the destination. 

“Think my first proper memory of you is when we were, like, 8. In my backyard. Trying to send telepathic messages to each other. Which we were absolute shit at.”

“Heeey, I thought we were quite good at it then. Especially in school and stuff. We only fucked up when we tried to communicate with your old cat.”

“Oh yeah, Petey. Legend.” 

“Legend.” you agree with a laugh, “I reckon we’re a lot better at it now, though. Like I can always tell when you really want to leave a party or when you’re on stage and -”

You cut yourself off, slowing to a stop right in front of Leonardo’s. He watches as your brow furrows in confusion as you take in the shuttered windows, the lack of lights and activity. You take a step forward, out of his hold as your eyes search the front of the trattoria, searching for answers that won’t come. He can’t breathe, is the thing. His mind on a constant loop of “this is it, this is it, this is it.”

“Wait, what? They’re closed? On a Sunday? Are they alright? Do you think something’s wrong?”

“I’m sure they’re alright. But we can check it out if you want.” he says, and he feels like he’s a dam on the verge of breaking, clenching his fist once before releasing it, taking a deep breath as he reaches into his pocket. “They gave me the keys.”

“They gave you the keys?!” you ask incredulously. “Why would they -” 

You turn to face him, mouth snapping shut the moment you lock eyes with him and he knows, in an instant, that his poker face has been absolutely shot to shit. He can see the understanding bloom in your eyes, a wave of emotion passing over your face as your hand flies up to cover your mouth. You did say you could read his mind. 

“H, why did they give you the keys?” you ask, your voice barely louder than a whisper. 

“Needed someplace to store the flash mob.” he says, warmth blooming in his chest when you huff a watery laugh. He reaches out to pull your hand down from your face, pressing a kiss to your knuckles before pulling you closer. “Do y’ want to go inside?”

You take a deep breath, biting down on a grin as you nod. He smiles back at you, squeezing your hand as he leads you both to the door, trying to use the keys on the door but his hands are shaking too bad, he tries to bring up the other hand to help but the picnic basket gets in the way, muttering a curse as he tries again. 

“Here, let me -” 

“Yeah, could you -” he starts to say, but you’re already reaching for the picnic basket, taking it out of his hands, always anticipating what he needs before he can vocalize it, always there to ease his burdens. Is he being too dramatic about a picnic basket? Yes. But he can’t help it, emotion flowing through him like a tidal wave, in disbelief that what he’s been working towards for a whole year is on the other side of this door. 

He grabs the doorknob with his newly freed hand, keeping it steady as he works the lock with the other and this time it swings open to reveal the restaurant, completely shrouded in darkness. He holds the door open for you, letting you walk in first, living for the slightly confused expression on your face as he follows in behind you. 

“Love what you’ve done with the place,” you deadpan and he honks out a laugh, closing the door behind him and locking it as he feels the last of his nerves shake free, comforted by the fact that while he’s about to walk into the moment he’s been waiting his whole life for, the two of you are still you. Still giving each other shit.  And why should he be nervous when he’s about to get the opportunity to tell you how much he loves you? And wants to spend the rest of his life with you? God, he’s so, so lucky. 

“Taking the piss at a moment like this. Should’ve known.” he says, shaking his head as you grin over at him. 

“So should I be expecting the dancers now or …”

“Give a lad a moment, jesus.” he says, grinning when you laugh. He reaches over and takes the basket from your hands, placing it on the nearest chair. “Can y’ close your eyes for me?”

You take a deep breath, nodding and shut your eyes. He quickly pulls the bags off his shoulder, placing them next to the basket and reaching into the depths of his bag to pull out the small square box and slide it into his pocket, squeezing once. He grabs his camera out of the bag and swings the strap over his shoulder before shuffling up behind you, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek as he covers your eyes with his hand. 

“H, my eyes are already closed -”

“Can’t be too careful with you,” he says, laughing when you grumble. “Alright, walk forward for me. I’ll guide ya.” 

He guides you through the restaurant, through the kitchen, and onto the back patio where you had dinner that night three years ago and where you’ve had several dinners since. He gently pushes you forward and then pulls you to a stop. 

“Keep ‘em closed,” he says, taking a step back and plugging in the twinkling lights that he hung from the wood paneled roof and the space is suddenly illuminated, looking just as he imagined it, the sun beginning to set in the distance. Fuck yes. He snaps a quick picture of you, completely unaware of your surroundings before placing the camera down on a nearby table. This is it. He looks himself over quickly, running his hands through his hair, adjusting his shirt, reaching into his pocket to quickly squeeze the box once before he takes a deep, deep breath and moves next to you.

“Y’ can open your eyes now, love.” he says, not daring to look away from your face, watching you with rapt attention as you open your eyes. Your eyes widen instantly, tears brimming in your eyes as you squeeze his forearm. 

“Oh, H.” you say softly, your voice barely above a whisper as your eyes sweep the space. It’s been completely transformed - most of the tables have been shoved to the side, except for a semicircle in the middle, leading to a perfect view of the sunset. Every single table is absolutely covered in bouquets of lilies - your favorite flower, asiatic lilies if he’s going to be specific, and he was, calling every florist within a 100 mile radius until he found the perfect ones, blooms of pinks, reds and purples covering every inch of the patio. 

Every inch, except the six tables in the semicircle. Those each hold a different photograph from the two of you over the years, blown up, framed and propped up, encircled with smaller photographs from the same time of your lives. You go to inspect them further, linking your fingers with his as you pull him behind you. 

The first photo is the two of you in his kitchen, age 7, hands absolutely covered in paint from an arts and crafts project you had taken up yourselves. You smile wide as you take it in, taking your time to look at the pictures covering the table, like one from when you were both ten, still in your costumes from the school play, arms slung around each other’s shoulders as you clutch onto the flowers your mums gave you or the one of you during Boxing Day charades when you were twelve. He had spent days in his mum’s house, looking over his and your parents’ piles of photos, desperately eager to find the best ones, the ones that would make you smile like you’re smiling right now. 

You pull him along to the next one and he hears you huff a laugh at the teenage awkwardness in all its glory, the two of you making some questionable fashion choices while on a family vacation in Paris, right before the band’s first single came out. He’s smiling wide at the camera, an arm around your shoulders and you are looking right at him, the braces adorning your teeth adding some extra shine. 

“Stupid in love with you, even then.” you mumble, sniffling as you give his hand another squeeze, eyes poring over the photographs surrounding the biggest picture. There’s a noticeable shift, as school pictures fade into pictures taken backstage at venues or near historic monuments all over the world. A time capsule, watching his life drastically change in every sense right before his eyes. But there’s always you. Right there, by his side. 

The next table has a photo from your 22nd birthday, the two of you practically tackling each other outside your flat, when he absolutely fucked up the surprise, but he hadn’t seen you in ages and was too excited. He stared at that picture for a while when setting up this morning, wondering how he could have possibly missed what he knows to be deeply true now, when he can see the joy and love so clearly written on his younger face.

You turn as you pull him to the right, to the next three tables, all covered with pictures of you both from the last three years. Each table represents a different year of your relationship, there’s one with the photo of when you first moved in together, the self timer picture you took in the middle of the barely set up living room, both of you smiling wide at the camera, giddy despite the exhaustion from the move. There’s the next one with one of his favorite pictures ever, from the vacation you took in the Cayman Islands after his insane year of touring last year, a selfie you took in the pool together and you look like the hottest woman alive. 

He feels you squeeze his fingers to smithereens as you get to the last table, covered in photos he knows you’ve not seen yet, including the big one that knocked the wind out of him when he first saw it. It’s from a few weeks ago, taken by Johnny. You’re at dinner in the backyard with everyone but the two of you are lost in your own world, his arm is wrapped around the back of your chair with his other hand resting on your thigh as you stare into each other’s eyes, laughing at a dumb joke one of you must have told. The love in the photo is palpable, it makes his stomach flip the more he looks at it.

He feels almost shy then, as you look everything over once more. He hasn’t done something like this for anyone… ever. He hasn’t tried to make a gesture this big in ages, certainly not by himself (though Leonardo did insist he and his sons help with the flower unloading, but they left Harry alone to set up the photos.) He wanted a visual of your lives together, everything that led up to now. He’s been working on this since your conversation last summer, scouring over photos in your family homes, going through all the film he has. He wanted it to be perfect for you. Wanted to show his love as best he could. He can feel a blush blooming on his cheeks, desperate to know what you think, hoping it’s not too corny, hoping you can see what he meant.  

“I can’t believe you did all this,” you say softly, voice thick with emotion. 

“Y’ like it? ‘S not too -” he asks and you’re already shaking your head before he can finish the question. 

“No it’s perfect, it’s…” you say, looking around at the tables, all the photographs, all the years of memories the two of you share. “It’s crazy to see it like this, all of our years together. It’s…”

You bring your hand to your forehead, shaking your head in disbelief, words seemingly failing as you look around at everything. He squeezes your hand, thumb rubbing over the back of it as you take a deep, shaking breath, tears falling from your eyes. 

“Oh, baby…” he says softly, pulling you in by the hand as he brings his other up to frame your face, thumb wiping away the tears that fall.

“I’m good, this is all good, it’s better than good. I’m just …overwhelmed.” you say, with a watery smile as you look back at him. “Just like all this history…and the flowers and the photos, like this must have taken ages. The thought of you looking through everything is killing me.”

“Been searching for the best photos for the past year,” he says softly, hand not leaving your face. “Our parents helped with the childhood photos but a lot of the other ones come from my film.”

“Oh my god, don’t tell me that,” you groan, quickly squeezing your eyes shut. “I already look a mess enough as it is.”

“You’re the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” he says softly and you blink your eyes back open at that, leaning into the gentle caress of his hand. “Got something I’d like to say to you, if that’s okay.”

He watches as you take a deep, shaky breath, your face lighting up as you look back at him with such love in your eyes, he may faint. 

“Yeah, that’s okay.” you say back just as softly. “Do you need me to like, let go?”

“No, y’ can stay right where you are. Actually hang on.” he says, walking you backwards so the two of you are perfectly in line with the sunset, the sky a perfect pink. He stares at you for a moment, can already feel the tears brimming in his eyes as he takes a deep breath. 

When he looks at you, it’s like he can see all versions of you at once. The versions of you that surround the two of you where you stand. His new neighbor that became his favorite person to play in the backyard with when he was six, the girl he wanted to kiss more than anyone when he was thirteen, his best friend who answered his phone call no matter the time or place when he was nineteen, the woman who stopped him from making what would’ve been the biggest mistake of his life, his girlfriend who makes him laugh more than anything in the world and loves him more than he’s ever been loved. The first face he seeks out in a crowd, the first voice he longs to hear when he’s been away, his love, his life, the love of his life. The woman who is going to be his wife. 

He didn’t realize the tears started to fall from his eyes as well until he feels your hand, gently  cradling the side of his face, brushing his tears away. He huffs a laugh, pressing a kiss to your palm before taking your hand in his, holding both of your hands with both of his. It’s reminiscent of what you’ll be doing in the future, at a ceremony somewhere and you both seem to be struck with that thought at the same time, squeezing each other’s hands as your grins widen. He’s got to do this now. He’s got to. He’s got to. He clears his throat, takes a deep breath. 

“I never said thank you, you know.” he begins, “Not properly. For being brave enough to tell me how you felt on the courtyard that night. For wanting better for yourself and for me. Y’ always…always want better for me. I don’t think I’d have ever had the courage to go against what was being expected of me or the situation I put myself in. And I can’t think about that too much, what my life would look like if you hadn’t done that. What a life without you, without this would look like. Because this is everything to me. You’re everything to me. And I’m grateful every single day that you told me how you felt when you did.” 

Emotion clogs his throat and he has to pause, shaking his head slightly as he takes a deep breath, knowing you’re not better off, biting down on a smile as tears fill your eyes, taking your own shaky breath, sliding your thumbs along the back of his hands, the move comforting him more than you know. 

“I never knew love could feel like this.” he continues, his voice shakier than before. “I didn’t have many examples of it growing up in my own family, not of this type of love. Always thought that people exaggerated, that it couldn’t be as good as they’re making it out to seem. But with you…it’s the greatest thing I’ve ever experienced in my life. I love how you love me, I love the way being with you makes me feel. You’ve been my best friend for my entire life and getting to be in love with you is the greatest gift you’ve ever given me.”

You make a soft sound at that, a small sob escaping you as you try your best to hold it together, the look on your face is going to make him absolutely lose it, as if he hasn’t already. He squeezes your hands, letting go of one to catch the tears that start falling from your eyes.

“Keep going,” you croak out, both of you laughing softly at the absolute state you’ve found yourselves in, matching tear tracks and smiles. He pinches your cheek and you swat away his hand, and he takes it once more in his.  “Please.”

He presses a kiss to your knuckles, his vision already swimming again as he takes a deep breath. He can do this. 

“I love your mind and your heart. I love being able to come home to you every single day and waking up next to you every single morning. These last three years getting to love you like this have been the best of my life. I’m the best version of myself when I’m with you. Being loved by you has made me a better friend, a better son, a better partner. The way you pay attention, the way you support me and believe in me has changed my life completely. You make me happier than I ever thought possible. You make me feel alive. You make me feel loved and cared for in a way I’ve never experienced before. And, if y’ let me, all I want to do is spend the rest of my life making you feel the same.” 

“You already do,” you say softly, and he has to bow his head at that, feeling overwhelmed with gratitude for this life, this moment, this love. He looks back up to see you looking right back at him, his beacon of light, his home. 

“I wanted to do this here because it was one of the first places that felt like ours.” he says, “This is the first place I ever called you my girlfriend. And I’d like for it to be the last.” 

He gently lets go of your hands, eyes never leaving your face as he sinks down to one knee, reaching into his pocket and pulling out the ring box. He opens it, living for the way you gasp, hands flying up to your face when you recognize the ring inside. Your Nana’s ring that your mum gave him that weekend in Scotland all those months ago. Updated, slightly. He couldn’t resist a Cartier twist. You’re proper crying now ,all pretenses of holding your composure long abandoned and he knows he’s no better, can feel the tears sneaking their way down his face. It’s just everything to him, knowing this means as much to you as it does to him.

“Baby,” he says, and the smile you give him in response makes his heart skip a beat, feeling like he could fly. “Will you marry me?

“Yes.” you say instantly, 

“Yeah?” he says, grin practically splitting his face as you nod fervently.

“Yes yes yes yes yes.”

You practically lunge at him, wrapping your arms around his neck and almost knocking him backwards. He wraps his arms around your waist, careful not to drop the ring as he pulls you close. You pull back, taking his face in your hands, wiping the tears away with your thumbs. You take a moment to stare at him, your watery gaze matching his as you smile at each other, the look on your face making him feel like he’s on fire. You lean in, kissing him so softly, so carefully, he’s going to start crying harder. It’s messy, both of your faces wet from snot and tears, but neither of you seem to care, pulling each other closer and closer, his hand coming up to squeeze the back of your neck as you mumble against his mouth, a mix of  “yes, please, I love you I love you I love you.” 

He presses kisses to your cheek, temple, the edge of your jaw before looking you in the eyes, both unable to do anything but laugh, feeling overwhelmed with love and joy. 

“Getting snot all over your face.” you say softly, laughing when he does. “Quite gross, sorry.”  

“Don’t care.” he mumbles against your cheek. “Can I give y’ the ring now please?” 

“Please.” you say back, pulling back and sitting back on your heels as he unwinds his arms around you, pulling the ring out of the box before placing it down. 

He takes your hand in his, smiling up at you as he slides it onto your finger, the two of you doing a collective sharp inhale as he does. You both are quiet for a moment, staring at the ring glimmering on your finger, a perfect fit.  

“H. I…this is my Nana’s ring, yeah?”

“Yeah, your mum gave it to me earlier this year. Said your Granddad had wanted you to have it.” he says softly, kissing you on the shoulder when your face crumples slightly, rubbing his hand up and down your arm. 

“He did?”

“He did. He told her to give it to the person that makes her daughter the happiest. That that’s what he and your Nana would want. Ang said she almost gave it to me that first Christmas we came home together. Said that she..uh,” he stops for a second, voice catching on emotion as he remembers the conversation, tears springing back to his eyes. “Said that she had never seen you that happy.”

“Oh Jesus. I’m gonna be crying for a month,” you say, bringing your hands up to cover your face as you’re overwhelmed for a moment. He huffs a gentle laugh beside you, his hand not leaving your arm as you lower your hands to stare at the ring again. “I can’t believe it’s Nana’s ring.” 

“I upgraded it a bit -”

“Yeah, no shit.” you say and he honks out a laugh, breath catching when you look at him, eyes aglow with affection. “It’s stunning.”

“Yeah? Y’ like it?”

“I love it. More than I can say.” you say, softly smiling at him. “I love you.”

You lean in to kiss him, resting your hand against the back of his neck, only this time he can feel the back of the ring against his skin and he just about loses his mind. He sits back, pulling you onto his lap with his arms around your waist as he kisses you back, having no interest in leaving the ground when he gets to have you this close. 

“You know it’s all the same for me, right?” you say, pulling back abruptly as your eyes search his face. “Everything you said?”

“I know, baby -” he says, already leaning in to kiss you again but you stop him, pressing your fingers against his mouth.

“Hang on, just let me -” you start to say, smiling when he presses a soft kiss to your fingertips covering his mouth, before you bring them down to rest on his jawline, your eyes roaming over his face, lighting up when they lock with his. “You’re my best friend, my favorite person to spend time with. And I can’t quite believe this is real, that we’re now bloody engaged.”

You pause for a moment, blinking back tears as he tightens his arms around you, brushing the back of your knuckles against his face. 

“Forever wouldn’t be enough time with you. You make me so, so happy, happier than I’ve ever been in my life. These last three years your job has brought us to the most beautiful places but - I’m going to be cheesy right now, you just have to let me, - there’s something about getting to come home to the flat and have you there that’s just…there’s nothing like it in the world. I feel so lucky. You make me better. You make me believe in myself more, take more risks, knowing I’ll always have a safe place to land. Nothing has ever felt like this before. Getting to see you grow into the man you are has been like, one of the greatest privileges of my life and now, getting to grow alongside you, build a life with you… dream come true doesn’t do it justice. I am so, so in love with you -”

He closes the distance between you in an instant, choking back tears as he crashes his lips against yours, bringing one hand up to cradle the back of your head. He feels all out of words at the moment, unable to articulate the way your words have his heart about to beat out of his chest. He never knew it was possible to feel this much about another person, love radiating out of every fiber of his being as he kisses you over and over again.

You press a line of kisses up his face, wrapping your arms around his neck as you whisper into his ear an endless loop of “I love you, I love you, thank you, I love you” and he may just melt. The two of you sit there for a while, holding each other tight. He pulls back, eyes grazing over your face before he leans in again, pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Did you bring your camera out here?” you ask “Should try to capture the moment, yeah? Document the craziest I ever looked?”

He laughs, shaking his head almost instantly. “Y’ don’t look crazy. You’re gorgeous.”

“You only saying that because you just put a ring on my finger?”

“Caught me there.” he says with a smile. “Camera’s over by the door.”

You squeeze his shoulder once before standing up and walking over to grab it. He watches you walk away, the swish of your dress as you walk, the dip of it in the back, the way that ring on your finger now glimmers against the lights. He stands up once you have the camera in hand, watching with a curious smile as you place it on the table, propping it up, getting the angle right before pressing the button on the back for the self-timer, the red light instantly flashing as you hurry back to where he stands in the center of the patio, the flowers and photos surrounding him. 

He holds his arms open for you and you step into his embrace, your back to his chest as you both face the camera. He loops an arm around the front of your chest, hand resting on your shoulder as you bring your left hand up to clasp his forearm, both smiling at the camera as it takes the picture. 

He presses a kiss to your head, squeezing your shoulder once, as he mutters into your hair, “Gonna make you do a selfie.”

Not listening to your half-assed protests as he walks back over to the camera, picking it up and instantly snapping a picture of you standing there, amongst the flowers. His favorite sight. 

You immediately wrap your arms around his waist when he gets close, settling your head in the crook of his neck as he fumbles with the camera.

“C’mon, you gotta hold your hand up. Show off the goods”

In response you smack your hand over his face, completely covering it,  laughing when he glares at you through the spaces in your fingers. He clicks the shutter, unable to stop his smile when you honk out a laugh. 

“Cheers for that, darling. Just how I wanted to capture the moment.”

“I’ll be framing that one, me.” you say with a laugh, trying in vain to dodge his hand trying to pinch your side. “Alright do a real one, I’ll be good.”

“Heard that one before,” he says, giggling when you swat at him before you turn back to the camera, holding your hand up with a quirk of your lips and he’s so hopelessly endeared as he presses the button, taking four pictures in rapid succession, knowing you’re about to smack him but you surprise him by just tightening your arms around his waist before you turn to face him, your hand coming up to tilt his face towards yours. You lean in, pressing a soft kiss to his lips, one that almost sweeps him right off his feet. His hand falters on the trigger, feeling a little lost in your lips before he snaps a photo quickly, heart flipping when you laugh against his mouth. 

“Take another one,” you mumble against his lips before leaning in to kiss him again and he all but forgets the camera in his hand as he wraps his arms around your waist,  both of you smiling too wide to get a proper kiss in, but you can’t be arsed to care. He pulls back, pressing a line of kisses along your jaw, smiling against your skin when you hum contentedly. 

“Got the shot?” you ask and he nods, pressing a lingering kiss to your neck before pulling back, smiling at you the way you’re smiling at him.  

“Got something else, too,” he says.

“Yeah? What’s that?” 

“Heard a rumor that Isabella may have left a treat for us in the kitchen.” he says, watching in glee as your mouth opens in shock. “Something about a tiramisu -”

“Shut the fuck up.”

“Should be a nice bottle of bubbly in there somewhere, too.”

“Why are we still out here?!” you say, pulling the camera out of his hands and placing it on the nearest table before grabbing his hand as you beeline back inside towards the kitchen. 

It’s a struggle to get the lights sorted inside, resulting in him absolutely slamming into a table, your bark of laughter echoing in the empty space. He figures it out eventually, hindering your mission towards the fridge with a hand around your wrist, pulling you back and pressing you against the wall to steal a few more kisses, completely ignoring your warning that you’re “breaking about 100 health codes right now,” laughing when you roll your eyes at his offer to break about a hundred more. 

He eventually lets you go, leaning over to open the fridge, a wave of emotion flowing through him when he sees the dessert, “Tanta felicita!” written across the top in Isabella’s handwriting, a bottle of Dom right next to it. Just feeling very lucky that he has people in his life that dropped everything to help him with this, who believed in your love from day one, people who looked out for him when he was younger and would still do anything for him, despite him being on much steadier feet now. 

“Oh, fuck yes.” you say as you peer over his shoulder. He laughs, smacking a kiss to your head as you grab a pair of forks and glasses while he handles the food and drink. You head back outside, moving some bouquets out of your way before sitting down at a table, pulling your chairs right next to each other as he rests his arm around the back of your chair. He lets you do the honors with the champs, both of you cheering as the cork flies off, toasting when you get your glasses filled. You let him get all of two bites in before you’re demanding he tell you every detail of how he pulled this off. 

He tells you all about how he first got the idea when he was at his Mum’s house last year and came across a picture of the two of you that he had never seen before and started to wonder what a time capsule of your lives together would look like. How he had begun working on it in private for a few months before telling his mum, how he asked your parents when you were all staying together in Scotland. Your eyes widen in disbelief that that all happened without you having a clue, though maybe you should have been paying more attention because your dad was “so, so weepy that weekend.” 

He tells you how when he told Archie his plans, he had cried, though he swore to deny it if you ever asked him about it, telling Harry he’s been like a big brother to him all his life. How he had brought him, Gemma, Johnny and Roxy with him to Cartier, trusting his instincts but wanting input from the people that knew you best. How all your friends begged him to propose while they were here a few weeks ago, but he knew it was meant for just the two of you. How Leonardo and Isabella leapt at the opportunity to help, how Isabella was tempted to hide in the kitchen to cook you a full seven course meal but begrudgingly agreed to settle for a tiramisu. How he had done this whole operation by himself, no assistance from a single member of his team, determined to prove he was capable and worthy of your yes all by himself. 

How he almost threw it all away when he got the finished ring in early July, running on fumes from the end of tour, the greatest year of his life, desperate to get down on one knee as soon as possible. How he couldn’t look at you for too long without getting emotional,  knowing what the end of summer was leading up to, tripping over his tongue to tell you how much he loves you no matter where you were, sometimes looking over at you in the cleaning supplies aisle of the grocery store and being unable to breathe for a second, in disbelief that he was going to get to spend the rest of his life with you.

He usually hates to talk this much, but finds he never minds it when you’re the audience, a soft smile on your face as you listen with rapt attention, reacting at all the right parts, just the way he imagined you would. You’re in tears again by the end, insisting they’re good, that you’re just feeling happier than you’ve ever felt and your body just has no idea how to respond.

“I’ve turned into a bloody fountain,” you say, huffing a laugh as you wipe your eyes. “You know you can’t tell me anything about Archie being nice, I instantly lose it.”

He laughs, moving his arm from the back of your chair to your shoulders, pulling you in to press a kiss to your head. You lean into his hold, resting your head against his shoulder as your eyes scan the space, a soft smile on your face. It’s a while before either of you speak, taking your time to relish the moment, both your eyes catching on that ring every so often. Happy to take time to just hold each other close, surrounded by the flowers and years of memories. It’s gotten cooler since the sun went down an hour or so ago and he can feel the shiver in your spine as the breeze passes through. 

“Y’ cold?”

“No, I’m fine.” you say, though the way you burrow your head into his chest may give you away. 

“Got a sweater in my bag -” he says, already on his way to get up and grab it for you but you pull him back down with laugh. 

“I’m fine, I’m fine,” you say, wrapping your arms around his waist, as your eyes graze over his face, your lips quirking up into that smile that’s just for him. “Wanted to say thank you. It’s been the perfect day.”

“Y’ happy, yeah?” he asks, living for the way your smile grows as you nod. 

“Best day of my life.” you say with such sincerity it makes his breath catch, saying a silent vow to himself that he will do all he can to have a hand in every best day of your life for the rest of it. “Could stay here forever.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” you say, already leaning in to kiss him, pressing your lips to his once, twice, three times before you pull away. “But -”

“You’re cold.”

You simply shake your head and he can see something shift behind your eyes and - oh. He clears his throat, heat simmering in his veins. You slide your hand up to rest at the back of his neck, fingers softly moving through the curls, he’s helpless to do anything but lean into the touch.

“Kinda feel like if I don’t get my hands on you soon, I’m gonna lose my mind,” you say.

“Is that so?”

“Yeah. Could do stuff here but I’d really rather be able to look Isabella and Leonardo in the eye next time I see them,” you say and he laughs, the laughter fading into a sigh when your lips find his neck, the hand not in his hair sliding up his thigh. 

You press a soft kiss right behind his ear, squeezing his thigh once before whispering right into his ear, “Do you want to take your fiancée home?”

He captures your lips in an instant, groaning when the hand in his hair tightens as you kiss. There’s fire, heat. It’s different from the countless kisses you shared today. There’s intent behind it and you both realize it at the same time, shivers going down your spines as you pull each other closer, his hand coming up to frame your jaw as he takes over the kiss. 

He kisses you until he can’t breathe, only pulling back when his lungs feel like they’re about to burst. Panting against your mouth as you’re no better off, trying to catch your breath as you run your fingers through his hair. 

“C’mon baby,” he mumbles, pressing a quick kiss to your lips before pulling away, “Let’s go home.”

He doesn’t remember much of the walk home. He knows the basics - knows he turned off all the lights, locked up the doors with a vow to come back to clean everything up early tomorrow, thanking his lucky stars that the restaurant is closed on Mondays. He knows that he packed up the remaining dessert and champs and his camera, that you grabbed the loose photographs and one of the vases of lilies, that he made you wear his sweater for the walk home. But everything else fades away. Nothing else matters except here and now, where he’s pressing you against the hallway wall, too eager to get his mouth on yours to make it all the way to the bedroom. 

He feels your hand squeeze at his shoulder before sliding down his chest, scratching along his pecs as you make your way down his abs, fingers digging into the grooves. You don’t stop kissing him, every swipe of your tongue against his setting his every nerve ending on fire, as you slide your hand lower, fingers sliding under the waistband of his briefs as you wrap your hand around him. He groans into your mouth, kissing you harder as you start to stroke him.

He pulls back, kissing a line up your jaw, moaning every so often when your hand twists just right. 

“Perfect fucking hands,” he grunts out, not letting his lips leave your skin as your hand lets him go, your fingers deftly undoing the button on his trousers, pulling the zipper down before you bring your hand up to your mouth.  When your next touch comes back wet, he has to bite down on your skin before capturing your lips with his as you move your hand up and down his cock. His hands slide down your body, gripping your skin every so often before settling on your arse, squeezing once, breath stuttering against your mouth when you swipe your thumb over the head of his cock, just the way he likes it. He’s going to lose his mind. 

“C’mon baby, let’s go to bed.” he grunts out, when the need burning in his veins reaches a boiling point,  kissing you quickly before sliding his hands down your thighs, encouraging you to jump into his arms as your legs wrap around his hips, your arms settling around his neck. “Want to fuck my fiancée in our bed.”

“Say it again,” you gasp out as he starts to walk you both towards the bedroom, your mouth already starting to work down his neck, tongue splaying out on the parts you know are his favorites. He nudges his nose against your jaw until you pull back your head to face his and he kisses you right away.

“Want to fuck my fiancée,” he whispers, kissing you again, hard. “My fiancée. My fiancée. My fiancée.”

A moan punches out of you at that, sliding your hands up into his hair as you kiss him back, not letting his lips leave yours as he crosses the threshold to your bedroom, bending down to lay you back against the bed. He plants his hands on either side of your head as he lets you kiss him into oblivion, your legs tightening around his hips as you grind up against him. 

He pulls back for a moment, catching his breath as his eyes roam your body. Your perfect body, your beautiful face. That look in your eyes making him weak, looking at him with such open want, such need, it makes his hands start to tremble. It’s a lot, to be wanted by you. There’s nothing like it in the world. And god, does he want you. He wants to give you everything. 

He leans back in, slowly brushing his lips along your jaw, tongue darting out to taste the skin of your neck, taking his time as he feels your hands work open the buttons of his shirt, doing your best to push the fabric off his shoulders while he refuses to part from your neck. Your legs fall from his hips as he moves his way down your body, shaking his shirt from his arms as he covers every inch of your exposed skin with his mouth, his lips diligently following the path the deep V your dress makes, living for every sound you make. 

His hands fall to your thighs as he slides down the bed, kissing the skin he exposes as he slowly pushes the fabric of your dress up, taking his time to suck a mark in your inner thigh as he pushes the dress farther and farther up your skin. Your hands meet his on your belly, where he rubs smooth circles as his lips work their way up your thighs before you sit up to pull the dress over your head. 

He’s frozen in place for moment, unable to take his eyes off your body before you nudge him with your foot, huffing out a, “Take your trousers off, you look a bit insane.” He looks down, huffing a sheepish laugh at the state of himself, trousers open with his hard cock poking out of his briefs. He quickly stands up to pull them off, molten lava traveling down his spine as your eyes scan him up and down and he has to give himself a few tugs for relief as you pull your underwear off and lay back down on the bed in all your naked glory. 

He’s crawling back over you, the least graceful he’s ever been by the way you giggle at him. He takes a second to hover over you, nudging his nose against yours, chucking softly. A well of emotion flows through him as he says, “Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me.”

He watches as you swallow, eyes blinking a few times before you whisper back, “Thank you for agreeing to spend the rest of your life with me.”

“Easiest decision of my life, baby. I love you I love you I love -” 

You cut him off by leaning up and capturing his lips with yours, though he's still trying to mumble it against your mouth in between kisses. He slides his hand along your arm to interlace his fingers with yours, groaning when he can feel that ring against his skin. Proof that this is real, that you’re his. That you’re going to be his forever. 

He pulls back and smacks a kiss to your jaw before sliding back down the bed once again, needing to be close to you more than he’s ever needed anything in his life. Pressing his lips to your belly, his kisses getting slower and wetter the closer they get to your core. You’re making the prettiest sounds, sounds he finds himself in the studio desperate to translate to a melody, unable to find a combination of notes that comes close to making him feel the way these do. He pulls your legs over his shoulders, squeezing your thighs as he kisses his way up to your core. He looks up at you, the look of bliss on your face, the gleam in your eye and dives in. 

He gets lost in it, in you, his favorite way to make you fall apart. Your hand slides up into his hair and pulls when he sucks your clit into his mouth just right, keeping the rhythm of his tongue just the way you like it. Heat sears through him when he hears you moan, spurring him on to work harder. His tongue lapping over your folds, nudging his nose against your clit as he buries himself in the heat of you. He loves this, loves how wet you get, loves being able to directly feel how much he affects you, every tense of your thigh, every quiver of your core. 

He squeezes your thigh, dragging his hand towards your core and he slides one finger inside your tight, wet heat, the slide slick and easy with how wet you are. He crooks his finger and your back arches, your hand gripping tight in his hair as he groans against you. He works double time, more determined than ever to get you to your high. He slides another finger into, mumbling nonsensical praise against your folds, dragging his tongue up to encircle your clit. A twist of his fingers, a hard suck of his mouth and that’s it. 

You gasp out his name as you come undone, a never ending loop of “Harry, Harry, Harry” falling from your lips as he works you through the orgasm, only pulling back when he feels you tug on his hair. He looks at you, gloriously fucked out you, and lifts his fingers to his mouth, indulging in the taste of you, stomach flipping when you mutter “oh fuck” and shut your eyes, too overwhelmed by the sight. 

You’re reaching for him but he’s already making his way up to you and you kiss him the moment he’s close enough, sliding your hands up and down his back as you lick into his mouth, moaning when he rolls his hips down against yours. He pulls back, pressing a slow line of kisses along your jaw before looking at you, hand slightly trembling as he brushes your hair behind your ear, the look in your eyes making him melt. 

He’s usually talkative during sex, unable to stop an endless stream of praise from falling from his lips but here and now, he feels all out of words. Too overwhelmed by how good it feels to be with you like this. One look at your face tells him you’re right there with him. It always feels good with you but there’s something different happening here, something deeper, the heat between you almost palpable. It feels like making love. He grinds down against you a few more times as his lips map kisses across your face, your hands squeezing at his skin every so often. 

When he locks eyes with you,  you can instantly read his mind, nodding at his unasked question, emotion passing over your eyes as you pull his mouth back to yours. You kiss him deeply, the twist of your tongue making him groan out loud as he reaches down to guide himself into you, both of you moaning instantly when he sinks inside. White hot heat sears through him, everything is warm, wet, perfect. 

He’s never felt like this before, almost choking on his desperation, his need as he drives into you slowly, steadily, resting his forehead against yours to see your every reaction up close. He slides his hand along your thigh and presses it up, the new angle making both of you moan. You squeeze his shoulders, nails digging into his back muscles as you pull him closer to you, not wanting a centimeter of space between you two, the slide of your bodies making him feral, biting down on your neck as need seeps deep into his bones. 

At one point you flip over and he thinks he may die here, feeling useless as you take him apart with each roll of your hips as you ride him, resting your left hand on his chest. He puts his hand over yours, his fingers catching on the ring every so often and making his heart clench in his chest. He brings the other hand up to feel the way your hips circle his, moans being punched out of him as he melts back into the mattress, almost paralyzed by the sight of you, your kiss swollen lips, your breasts bouncing with every twist of your hips, the look in your eyes. You wrap your hand around his neck, pulling him up to you to kiss him deeply, panting against his mouth as he gently lays you back against the mattress. 

He wraps one arm around your upper back to pull you close, pressing the other against the mattress to drive his hips into yours, hard. He’s kissing you until he can’t, until you’re both too far gone, just moaning against each other’s mouths. He knows you’re close, can feel you squeezing him tighter. He squeezes the back of your neck once before sliding his hand down to rub circles against your clit. You wrap your arms around his shoulders, biting down on his neck as you come, making the prettiest, softest sounds that make the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. You’re murmuring praise in his ear, scratching your nails down his back and it’s all but two seconds before he comes, hard. It’s never felt this good. Kissing you as he comes down, can’t stop sliding his tongue over yours as he kisses you with everything he has. Needing you to know, to understand when the words are failing, that you’re everything. That you’re always going to be everything. 

You pull back slowly to let him breathe, gently rubbing circles on his chest as you both pant. He buries his head into your neck and you wrap your arms around him, the two of you holding each other close through the comedown. You’re so close he can feel it when your breath hitches, can feel it when your tears mix with the sweat on his shoulders. He pulls back to look at you, any concern fading instantly when he sees the look of love in your eyes, the smile on your face. 

You shake your head slightly when you lock eyes, in disbelief of what the two of you can create, your smiling growing when he grins as well. He crushes his lips to yours, you slide your hand up into his sweaty hair as he kisses you so thoroughly, chuffed knowing you’re as in awe of this dynamic as he is, that you’re as excited as he is to spend the rest of your lives together. 

“I don’t think I have words for how good that felt,” you say softly when he pulls back, pressing a kiss to your cheek before sliding out of you. 

“Quite alright with doing it like that for the rest of my life,” he says, feeling warm all the way down to his toes when you honk out a laugh. He quickly hops off the bed and into the ensuite, grabbing a washcloth and wetting it with the sink before coming back to you. Where you’re laying completely naked staring at the ring on your finger with the greatest smile on your face. God. 

He crawls back onto the bed, gently pulling your thighs apart as he cleans you up, unceremoniously throwing the washcloth on the floor to make his way back up to you, where you’ve been watching him with a warm smile. 

“I love you so much,” you say, threading your hand into his hair as he settles on top of you, your eyes scanning his face as you scrunch your nose to hold back your emotion. “You’re going to be my husband.”

“You’re going to be my wife,” he says back, his voice cracking at the end as emotion flows through him. “I am so bloody in love with you.”

“Me too,” you say sincerely, staring into his eyes, the corners of your lip twitching up. “I’m also in love with me.”

He honks out a laugh shaking his head as you giggle, clearly proud of your own joke. 

“Such a little shit,” he says, pinching your side as he rolls over, carrying you with him, settling against the mattress with you on top of him. “Should’ve known that was coming.”

You look at him for a few moments, running your hands through his hair, smile deepening when he leans into the touch. 

“I’m really bloody in love with you, too.” you say softly and it feels like his heart grows five inches. He knew, he’s never questioned it with you, not once. That doesn’t stop the butterflies from swirling in his belly when he hears you say it out loud.

You lean in at the same time, kissing each other so tenderly, goosebumps erupting on his skin when you sigh into his mouth. You both pull back slowly, grinning at each other so wide that you start giggling like school kids, feeling so giddy, so grateful for this love, you’re overflowing with joy. It’s so nice that it always comes back to this, just two best friends making each other laugh. 

But there’s something different, he thinks, as you whisper something about the leftover tiramisu and champagne and not saving any for him as you bound out of bed, grabbing one of his t-shirts from his drawer before taking off down the hall. He hastens after you, those morning sprints coming in handy as he catches up to you, wrapping his arms around your waist as you shriek, your cackles echoing through the house. 

It’s the same but it’s different, it’s stronger, it’s deeper, it’s a love he never thought himself capable of feeling. It’s like how he felt standing outside your hotel room that night all those years ago, feeling like he was about to jump off a cliff, but somehow knowing he had a safe place to landAs he carries you into kitchen, laughing against your neck as you try to break his hold, the ring on your finger shining in the light, he thinks about how this has grown, how it’s turned into something he never thought possible. How even today feels like the start of something different. 

It feels like something new.

---

a/n: oooooooomg. wow. can you actually believe it. i in fact cannot. its been a year & 2 days since i posted the first part of this story, meant as a one off to see how my writing skills would fare. i cant BELIEVE how many of you have read this and loved it, it has meant more than you could ever know. thank you for sticking with me, for encouraging me, for supporting any little blurb i pu tout. writing this story was a real lifeline for me this year and i cant tell u enough how much your support of it has meant. this is the final part. knowing me, never say never. but. i think this is a really nice way to end it. pls let me know what you think!! thank you so, so much for reading.

taglist:@tobesolovelysstuff, @louyoursins, @daydreamingofmatilda, @jojo-blog53, @marzhshaim, @devilsqueen722, @just-happiness-only,@lomlhstyles, @feestyles, @spock4presidnet, @sunshinemoonsposts, @indierockgirrl, @jerseygirlinca, @kissitnhekitchen, @goldnrry,

[loubouskz]

take care of you

lee felix x fem!reader

description: you keep going on and on about how boring sex is and that something is missing. and like any your best friend, he offers to help you find out.

warning: SMUT! bestfriends to lovers, unprotected piv sex, cunniligus, dirty talk, praising kink, minor degrading kink, breeding kink, aftercare and cuddles. if I missed anything let me know

wc: 2.6k

a/n: I finally got this done! I had to borrow a laptop. I found my old chromebook but couldn't find the charger for it so I have to order a new one and wait for it to come in😭😭 I wanna be able to finish writing my stories that are just sitting in my google docs, collecting dust. anywho I hope you all enjoy this! I had so much fun writing this! feedback is greatly appreciated!

and my requests are open btw, so send in your requests! I'd be so happy to write something for you!🥰

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“wait really? ” felix asked, putting down his water bottle on his bed. “yeah.” I said with a straight face. “not even the last guy you were with? you were so loud.” felix said in fits of giggles. “just because I was loud does not mean it was that good. he start off strong, lack in the middle of it, and was okay during the climax- but all together..it just wasn’t that good.” I said, shugging my shoulders. “i feel like i haven’t had great sex. good, sure. I feel like there’s not enough in the middle of it. it’s just kind of boring sometimes.” I said. “what do you think is missing?” he asked, laying next to me. I sighed and just looked at the ceiling as i thought. “anything. a kink. dirty talk. hell I don’t know.” I said before looking at the time on my phone. “it’s 2:23am, I need to go to bed.” I said as I sat up. “alright.” felix said in a kind of distance voice. “you okay? was talking about my sex life weird to you? i’m sorry.” I said as I got up.

“no it doesn’t, we’ve been best friends for years y/n. i’ve heard your best and worst of everything. we talk about almost everything together, we know each others’ limits when we talk about things. you’re good.” felix said with a nice smile, but I could tell his mind was wandering. i huffed out a small chuckle and said goodnight to him as I made my way to his door.

“what if I help you out?” i heard him say really fast as my hand grabbed the door handle. I turned back to him to see him sat up and looking at his hands. felix, my best friend of eight years and roommate for three. and maybe my crush of four…is willing to have sex with me. i felt my brain short-circuit. this has to be a dream.

“what? can you explain more.” I asked, standing in place. “what if i help you find out what you’re missing during sex?” he asked, messing with his sleeves. I looked at him with wide eyes. “are you being forreal?” I asked him. “i wouldn’t have asked if i wasn’t being forreal y/n.” he answered, while laying back. “well i don’t know what to say felix.” i said. 

“well you don’t have to answer right away nor do you have to say yes at all. but you know i would take care of you.” felix said, locking his eyes with mine. that sentence alone: but you know i would take care of you, the way he said it, made my knees go weak. “don’t say it like that lix.” i said as i felt my insides twists in ways i never thought they would for my best friend. felix’s eyes scanned my body and saw how my body reacted to his words. he brought his eyes back up to mine but now they were much darker. full of lust clouding his chocolate brown eyes. felix slowly got out of his bed and walked over to me. “say it like what y/n?”

i didn’t know what to do, so i started backing up. felix just followed with a small smirk to his lips. i gasped as my back hit the wall. he placed one arm right above my head against the wall and the other on my waist. 

“you gonna answer me?” felix said, placing his head really close to mine. “say it like it’s true.” i said in a small voice. “well it might be, you won’t know if it doesn’t happen. right baby?” he asked, tilting his head to the side a bit. my eyes darted to his lips and back to his eyes. i nodded my head. i could feel my underwear becoming more and more slick. “i need you to be verbal with me.” he said, dragging his hand that was on my waist up to my face. he kept his hand on my cheek, stroking his thumb in a comforting way. my eyes fluttered at the sweet gesture. my mind quickly coming up with the answer. “take care of me felix, please.” i said, just barely above a whisper.

felix sucked in a breath of air and smiled at me, ‘is it okay if i kiss you now?” he asked. “yes.” i answered. felix slowly brought his lips to mine and kissed me. i closed my eyes as i felt his soft lips on mine, but it quickly ended by felix pulling back. “want more?” he asked. i nodded my head, too breathless to answer. felix leaned back in and i met him halfway, making him groan into the kiss. he put more pressure into the kiss, sliding his tongue on my bottom lip. i parted my lips to let him in. felix placed both his hands on my cheeks as i gripped the sides of his shirt. felix took his time exploring the inside of my mouth, like he was trying to memorize it. 

after our little makeout, felix pulled away slowly. both of our lips, red and swollen. felix placed his hands back on my waist as he kissed his way back my jaw to my neck. sucking hickeys all over, i moaned as he found my sweet spot. i ran my hands into his hair, pulling at it lightly. felix groaned as his hands made their way down, just above my shorts. he kissed my ear, “can i continue?” he asked in his deep voice. “yeah.” i said breathless. i held my breath as felix’s hand pushed its way past my shorts and underwear. he continued marking the other side of my neck as cupped my cunt.

“oh fuck baby, you’re already getting slick and wet for me.” he said, dragging his hand back and forth. he placed his fingers on my clit, drawing small circles. i head feel back against the wall, moans becoming louder and louder as he picked up the pace. “oh felix.” i moaned out. he lifted his head, looking at my face. ‘yeah baby. you like that?” he asked. “yes. need more,lix.” i whined. “what kind of more?” he asked, kissing the corners of my lips. “fingers. inside. please.” i answered, chasing his lips. “good girl.” he said, smashing his lips back on mine. he pushed carefully pushed two fingers inside of me. i gasped into the kiss. 

“are you going be good for with me y/n?” felix asked. i nodded my head, “faster please.” i said, felix did exactly what i asked for. curling his fingers every time he brought them down, hitting my clit every time. i breath quickened, chest heaving as i felt the pressure building to its max. “gonna let me see how pretty you look when cum all over my fingers.” he said. “yes.” i said through a broken moan, keeping my eyes on his as i felt the knot unravel. cumming all over his hand. “oh god felix!” i said as he guided through my orgasm. he slowly removed his hand out and placed his fingers in his mouth, eyes never leaving mine.my lips parted out of surprise.

“you taste heavenly.” felix said. “fuck me felix.” i said, pulling him by his pants. “really?” he asked. “yeah, like you mean it.” i said with my own smirk.

he grabbed the hem of my shirt, making sure it was okay to take it off first before it was removed. i was ready for bed so i didn’t have a bra on. felix kissed down my body as he made his way to the ground. he pushed my sweats and underwear down along with him. face to face with my bottom half. “god, you’re beautiful, you know that?” felix said with meaning that was more than just lust. i felt my heart skip a beat. i smiled at felix as he kissed my stomach. he stood back up and grabbed my hand.

we walked over back to the bed. “lay down.” felix said. i climbed back onto the bed and got comfortable. felix removed his clothes, but left his boxers on. he climbed on the bed, over top of me. “will you let me eat you out beautiful?” he asked, placing a soft kiss on my lips. i shuddered at his words but agreed none the less. felix took his time kissing down my body once again. he took my legs, pushing them up and on his shoulders. he marked up my inner left thigh before doing the same thing on the other side. 

felix blew on my clit before giving a long lick up my cunt. i arched back and rolled my hips, making him chuckle. he kissed my clit then proceeded to suck on it gently. he opened his mouth, rolling his tongue out licking up. basically making out with my lower lips. i clamped my thighs around his head, making him groan. the vibrations sending shocks up my body. “felix!” i moaned out, threading my fingers into his hair. felix brought one of his hands up to my entrance, pushing his fingers in. thrusting his fingers in and out plus the motions of his tongue on my clit made my climax come even faster than last time. “i’m gonna cum felix.” i said as my body started to shake. “cum for me.” he mumbled. felix flattened his tongue, pressing it on my clit and shaking his head side to side. my body arched one more time before my vision became white. “good girl.” he said, slowing down his fingers. felix removed his fingers and licked up my cum till i pushed his head away. felix sat up with his hands on my thighs, stroking them lightly. 

“still need more sweet girl?” he asked. i nodded my head, trying to reach for his underwear. felix quickly grabbed my hands and put them above my head. i looked at him with wide eyes. “ah ah ah. didn’t you say you wanted me to fuck you?” he asked. “yes i did.” i answered. “then roll over. hands and knees.” he said, letting go and sitting back up. i quickly turned over. as i steaded myself, i heard felix removing the last of his clothing. 

i felt felix grabbed my hips and pull them back. he guided one of his hands down my back and pressed down. i put my arms under my head and pushed my ass out, learning it a playful smack. i giggled a bit as felix pressed his body to mine. “ready for me to take of care you? fuck you how you need it?” felix asked, lining up his dick with my opening. a moan slipped pasted my lips. “yes please lixxie. fuck me, i need you so bad.” i whined out. felix pushed into me with a groan. “so fucking tight even after stretching you out.” he said as he bottomed out. i clenched around him, bucking my hips back. he drew his hips back and thrusted back in once and hard. my eyes rolled back at the feeling. “be patient.” he growled out, gripping my hips tightly. i huffed out and felix heard…and did not like that. he started snapping his hips at a decent hard pace. bringing a moan every time..

“i was trying to be nice, but all you wanted was to be full and fucked, right baby?” he said, not really asking. “just so fucking needy, didn’t even care who it was huh? not even if it was your best friend.” he continued. i whined into the pillow as i gripped the sheets. the sound my wet skin echoed throughout the room. good thing we didn’t have neighbors. “i bet you just want to be stuffed full of my cum.” he said, making me clench around him hard. “oh am i right?” he asked, laying his body on mine. grabbing my boobs with both his hands, pinching my nipples a bit. without pulling out or stopping, he lifted my body where my back was against his chest.

“answer y/n.” felix said, grinding his cock right on my g-spot. i cried out from the pleasure building up. “answer or i’m stopping right here.” he threatened. “yes! i want to be stuff full of your cum. so deep inside me.” i said with tears in my eyes. “yeah, so deep that i put a baby in you?” he asked as i cried out again. “you gonna be a good girl and take my cum like the little cumslut you are?” he asked as his thrusts started to become sloppy. “yes!” i said. i could barely hold my head in place as my body started to feel like jello. i turned my head to see him. “can i cum?” i asked as tears fell into my cheeks. “fuck. yeah go ahead a cum baby. cum with me.” he said, bringing one hand up to my face and holding my head in place so i didn’t look away. 

one final snap of his hips and my body spasmed from how hard my orgasm hit me. felix followed and stilled his hips, cumming deep inside. “shit.” he moaned out. he gave a few more shallow thrusts before completely stopping. felix buried his head into the crease of my neck and shoulder. i took a deep breath and brought my hand up to felix’s hair, combing it out of his face. he lifted his head up, kissing my shoulder. “you did so well y/n.” he said, still out of breath. i chuckled and smiled. “you did to lixxie.” i said. “let’s go get ourselves clean up, yeah?” he asked, i nodded.

felix helped me up off his softening dick and bed. after helping me to the bathroom, felix went to go pick up our clothes. after i did my business and got cleaned up, i heard a knock at the door. “yeah.” i said as i was washing my hands. felix popped his head in and handed me my clothes. “thank you.” i said grabbing them. i put my underwear on first then my hoodie, deciding not to put my sweats back on. “so we made kind of a mess on my bedsheets, is it alright if we go sleep in your room?” felix asked as blush forming across his cheeks. i laughed out and turned to him. “yeah felix. lets go.” i said as we left the sex-scented room.

we both climbed into bed and under the blanket. “i forget how much softer your bed is compared to mine.” felix said, snuggling in. “now i know you’re just saying that because your sleeping next to me because we have to exact same mattress.” i said, cuddling up to him. felix wrapped his arm around me and pulled me even closer. “yeah you’re right.” he said with a big smile. “can you turn off your side lamp now lixxie.” i said. “why? i won’t be able to see your cute face.” he said. “well this cute face needs her beauty sleep, so please turn off the light.” i said. “alright.” he said, quickly turning off the light and turning back to me. 

“so did you figure out what you were missing?” felix asked. i closed my eyes and nuzzled my head into his chest. i nodded my head, slowly falling asleep. “what was it?” he asked quietly, most likely sleep taking over his body as well. “you.” i whispered before fallen into a peaceful sleep. “good. i hoped that it was.” he said, kissing the top of my head. “took us long enough.” he said before fallen asleep.

[gh0stsp1d3r]

hi again! I'm the one who asked if you write for aaron himself, anw the fic doesn't really need to be a smut. butzzzz, what if aaron x reader were childhood bffs and when they went to highschool, reader had a crush on aaron and reader's feeling for aaron lasted for years, but then after aaron's taping on nowhere boy, reader found out that aaron is dating s*m? then reader decided to cut off ties with aaron so reader can move on?????????? then after years years later reader is also now an actress and is starring on a romance film with aaron, as the film was in progress reader's feelings for aaron is slowly coming back, and on a specific scene for the movie, reader got carried away so she accidentally "confessed" to aaron even though it wasn't on the script then than made it. to the final cut😖🤙

A/n- hiii! Also love this sm anon!! Sorry it took so long, I’ve been super busy ): it’s kinda lengthy but I hope u like it

𝐂𝐨𝐧𝐟𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧

You and Aaron had been best friends, ever since you both were teenagers.

You both stayed with each other through the awkward growing up phase. You two used to be inseparable, and stayed like that until he started to film for nowhere boy, where he was playing John Lennon.

“Wait, so you’re telling me that you’re literally going to play John Lennon?” You asked, with a smile on your face as you talked to your friend.

He smiled back and nodded. You both continued to walk and talk, you talked about what you auditioned for and he talked about how he was excited to play in the movie.

You both were busy filming, you for a show and him for a movie. So you both had been a little distant, distracted.

You sighed when you flopped into the bed, tired and yawning. You were falling asleep, eyes shut and everything, when your phone goes off.

You groan and pick up the phone.

“Hello?”

He says your name, and you automatically knew it was Aaron.

“Aaron! Hi! Oh my god, I haven’t heard from you in a while. How are you? How’s the film?” You rubbed your eyes.

“Hi. Sorry if I woke you up or somethin’. Im alright. The filmings almost wrapped up. How about your show?”

“That’s good. Today was the last day, so hopefully it goes good.”

“Thats nice.”

There was an awkward silence for a while.

“ I was wondering if you’d wanna hang out this weekend. We haven’t talked and you know-“ his British accent cut through the silence thankfully.

“Yeah! I’d love to.” You said, more excited than you should’ve been.

“Great. I’ll text you everything tomorrow, thank you. Goodnight, y/n.”

“Goodnight, Aaron.”

And you thought things would be great at lunch, but they got worse.

He told you about his new girlfriend, Sam. And you learned that she was older, way older than him. He had just turned an adult, so what the hell?

Of course, you’d been his best friend forever, and you’ve seen his girlfriends come and go, but this one was different, she was old, way too old for him, and the power imbalance was weird to you. The he mentioned how she was pregnant.

You tried to be supportive, but you couldn’t. When you got home, you cried into your pillow and blocked Aaron’s number.

It’s been two years now, and you had just got cast for Anna Karenina. You were playing the main character, and that’s when you found out Aaron was also on the movie, playing none other than your love interest.

The first day on set, you both were shocked to see each other. You glanced at him and he did the same, and quickly darted his eyes away.

Did he hate you? Did he feel bad?

He should, you thought bitterly. You looked over your lines, and after you were ready made your way to where it would be shot.

It was awkward for you and Aaron, both of you just continued to work professionally, however, on set.

It wasn’t until the dance scene that you realized how utterly in love you still were with him. It was a few days of filming now.

He kissed your hand, and you were gone. In terms of the movie and in reality.

You did as you practiced, but you’d practiced with someone else, and so has he. It was odd to be doing it with him.

You stared into his eyes. That’s when you realized in character and out of character, you were in love with him.

So you used that to make the scene better, he stared into your eyes the same way, but you brushed it off as acting.

The spotlight was on the both of you, and you couldn’t see anything but him.

Your palms were sweating, but so were his, you realized.

Once that scene was over, you both stared at each other for a moment in silence.

“Let’s take a break!” They said, and everyone went where they usually did.

It had been a long day. You both stayed staring for a good few seconds before you both opened your mouth.

“I’m sorry-“ you both apologized at the same time. You both smiled and laughed at that.

“I shouldn’t have blocked you.”

“And I shouldn’t have sprung everything on you at once.”

You both stayed silent for a moment again before you asked.

“How’s you and Sam..?”

His eyebrows furrowed. “Oh. Yeah. We’re good- fine.”

“And your baby..?”

He smiled at the mention “She’s good.”

“A girl, huh? What’s her name?”

He stared into your eyes again, with that same look as he did in the dance scene.

“Y/n.”

——————————————————————

And that’s how you were here now, months filming now. It was the scene were you told Vronsky, or Aaron, that your character was pregnant.

You were in a field, holding a parasol as you looked into the distance.

“Anna.” He said behind you.

You turned back, with a small smile present on your face, putting the parasol down.

“Alexei. What is it?”

“I couldn’t bear not to see you before the race.”

You smiled and practically ran into his arms, his hands rubbed your shoulders.

“What were you thinking about?”

His hand grabbed your jaw softly when you didn’t answer.

“Tell me.”

You stared into each others eyes. You passed for a moment before speaking.

“I’m pregnant.”

You stayed silent for a moment and waited for a reaction.

His face lit up, hand caressing your cheek.

“Oh, my love. Love was never a game to us. Here’s an end to living in corners. Existing days to days on lies. Now we can be together.” He laughed quietly.

For a second, you wished it was real.

“How can we, Alexei?”

“Tell him everything.”

“Do you think my husband will make you a present of me?”

“Leave him.”

“Leave him and be your mistress?”

“Yes. Run away.”

“I would never see my son again. The laws are made by husbands and fathers.”

He paused for a moment. Was that the only reason he was still with Sam?

“What then? I’ll never forgive myself for your unhappiness.”

“Unhappiness? I’m like a starving begged who’s been given food. I am happy. I love you. I could never be unhappy with you.” The last part slipped out on accident, it was not part of your lines.

His eyebrows raised, and you paused for a moment, looking at him for a reaction.

He leaned in, and you did as well. The kiss seemed genuine, not like the forced ones you’ve had while filming this movie. This felt real, full of actual passion and love.

The kiss went on for longer than expected, the people on set were eating every second of it up.

“Cut! Now that is how you act! Way to go, guys. Really great.”

Your cheeks burned up as you realized what had happened, you looked at Aaron and he smiled softly.

You both talked for a while, you both trying to ignore what happened earlier.

“Did you mean what you said earlier..?” He asked suddenly, right before you were about to enter your car to leave.

Your eyes widened, and you paused, and turned to look at him as he walked closer to you.

“Aaron-“

“I need to know.”

Y-yeah. I meant it. I didn’t mean to say it. And I know that you have-“

His lips crashed against yours while you tried to explain, it was passionate, and just like the one from the confession.

“I love you. I always have, y/n.” He mumbled quietly, hand on your jaw.

[lisbeth-kk]

Sherlock fandom.

I can’t get you off my mind

I knew Mrs. Hudson was wrong when she told me marriage changes people. 

Not my John, I thought.

How wrong I was.  

Seen in hindsight; has it been three months already, she was right. I should have known that. After all, she was more of an expert on relationships than me. What did I have to show for? My only relationship, if you didn’t count family, had been with John. He was the only one who could fit that term. 

I told Mrs. Hudson that Mary would be reasonable when I needed John on a case. Her response baffled me. 

“Don’t ever use that word and her name in the same sentence, Sherlock. They don’t match. At all.”

Then she huffed and clenched her jaw tight, unwilling to explain herself. So, I’d turned to Mycroft. If anyone knew what was going on, it was him.

“Brother mine,” he said quietly when I came forth with my request about John’s wife. 

“Don’t patronise me, Mycroft,” I snapped. “Just tell me what’s going on. Is John safe?”

“Why would you ask…” Mycroft began, but something about my appearance stopped him from whatever nonsense he was going to utter. 

He sighed heavily and pinched the bridge of his nose. Neither were good signs. 

“She’s an assassin with a prize on her head. We have her under surveillance. I suspect she’ll attempt to flee any day to escape,” Mycroft told me. 

My brain buzzed, analysed, and calculated in quick succession, but in vain. All I could think of was John, unknowing, unsafe, and the baby.

“Mary isn’t pregnant, Sherlock,” Mycroft said. 

“Excuse me?” Were you ever going to tell me any of this?” I asked furiously.

*** 

It’s over now. John’s personal Armageddon. His wife gone when he woke. A letter explaining nothing. The fake pregnancy belly was the final nail in the coffin. I tried to reach out to him, but he was so angry. Thought I’d known all along. He didn’t want to listen to reason. I didn’t blame him. I still don’t. 

Again, it’s Mrs. Hudson’s words putting things in motion.

“Are you just going to let it slide? He needs you, Sherlock! You are his best friend, his entire world. Save him, dear, and yourself. Ask him to come home.”

“He is home,” I protest. 

The look she gives me, makes me feel like a five-year old again. She doesn’t pester me further, but it’s enough. I fetch my laptop and start to write an email. The most important one I’ve ever written.

Dear, John

Believe me when I say I didn’t know anything about Mary or the baby until the day before she left. I would’ve told you if I knew. I was terrified when Mycroft told me, and I couldn’t bear the thought of you being unsafe and unknowing. My plan was to tell you the day you woke up without her, but by then it was too late. 

I don’t blame you for not believing me, John. After all, I’ve lied to you about severe things in the past. If you want to talk, we can. Whenever you want. I’m just a text away. And if you can’t bear the thought of staying where you live; know that you’re always welcome at Baker Street. It was your home, and it’s empty without you. 

We’re not good with words, John. Not these kinds, anyway, but don’t let our friendship end like this. I want you in my life, in my home, our home. I can’t get you off my mind, John. I never could. Please, consider coming back. 

If you don’t answer this email, text, phone or come to Baker Street, I’ll understand, but I hope you’ll do at least one of those things. To let me know where we stand. 

SH

***

I’m mentally exhausted after I’ve sent the email, and go to bed, sleeping like the dead for almost ten hours. When I’ve showered and had some tea and toast, I take out my violin and play all of John’s favourites. 

This can’t be how it ends; I think when I lower the violin and bow. After I’ve placed the instrument back in its case, I hear a sound. I’d been so lost in my own head and haven’t been paying attention to my surroundings. And why would I? I’ve lived alone for months, but now I sense a presence. 

I turn, slowly, alert, and there he is, in his chair, looking at me with eyes filled with unshed tears. Any second now they will trickle down his cheeks. In an instant I’m kneeling in front of him, letting my hands rest on his knees. 

“John, is everything okay? Are you…”

“I’m okay, Sherlock. Just…”

His voice his hoarse. I can tell this isn’t the first time he’s been crying today. Something catches my eye just inside the door. John’s duffle bag. I jerk my head back to look at him.

“John?”

“I’m coming home, Sherlock. For good,” he says and manages to smile while he’s crying. 

***

So, this is how it ends. With a pair of broken hearts that are going to be mended. We only have to give it some time, and we will get there. Together.

@flashfictionfridayofficial @totallysilvergirl @keirgreeneyes @calaisreno @a-victorian-girl @phoenix27884 @sabsi221b @safedistancefrombeingsmart @gregorovitchworld @raina-at @helloliriels @peanitbear @topsyturvy-turtely

[lunajay33]

Best Friend🍂

Summary: Being Seth’s best friend was never a dull moment, always there to cheer y/n up until one day he suddenly stops talking to her and she’s left confused and hurt

“Hey Seth are you still coming over today?” I asked over the phone feeling all warm inside just talking to him

“Of course wouldn’t miss it for the world!” We exchanged goodbyes and I just waited for him to come over

Ever since Seth and I became friends when we were kids, around 6, every Friday we would have a movie night and never once did we miss one

I heard a knock on my door and there he was, smiling like usual, his long hair blowing in the wind as if he was a model

“Well are you going to let me in or just stare at me” he laughed as he pushed by gently and threw himself down on the couch

I blushed and closed the door going to sit next to him

“So what are we going to watch tonight?” He asked as he threw a blanket over the both of us and pulled me to lay down against his chest, it was normal for us but probably looked different from the outside

“Its up to you! I’m fine with anything” I said as I handed him the remote and snuggled into the blanket

Moments like these were what I held onto, I’ll never know when he finds the one and then I won’t have this anymore, so Friday night were what I waited for every week

He turned on an old 80s movie and we laid in silence snacking on gummies and watching

“How’s everything been?” He asked as he combed his fingers through my hair

“Tough, I’ve barely gotten any sleep lately”

“She still screaming at night?” He asked

“Every night since he left”

Bella was my sister and ever since her boyfriend, Edward, left she’s been miserable, I’ve tried everything to cheer her up but it doesn’t seem to work, me and dad don’t know what to do with her, maybe if I was closer to her maybe I’d know how to help but, we haven’t lived together for years until she came back a year ago, we just have to wait until she comes to terms with everything

“Maybe you could come have a sleepover at my place, get some rest” he hummed

“Id love that but you know how Leah feels about me ever since bella returned” I sighed

Me and Leah use to be friends but then bella came back and she turned to glaring at me, leaving the room every time I’d enter and I never knew why

“She’ll get better I hope, I’ll get sleep eventually, maybe I’ll camp out outside” I laughed feeling sleep slowly creep up on my from the warmth he was creating

“Get some sleep now” he hummed again lulling me to sleep

•*•*•*•

I woke up to the sun in my eyes but I noticed the absence of the warmth that I loved, I opened my eyes and he was gone it was just me on the couch wrapped snuggly in the blanket

I got up with the blanket draped over my shoulders, I walked to the kitchen and dialed the Clearwater residence

“Hello!” I heard that sweet voice of Seth’s mom

“Hi Mrs.Clearwater it’s y/n I was wondering if Seth was there? He left last night without waking me and I wanted to make sure he made it home safe”

“Oh ya, he came back late last night, he said he wasn’t feeling well and he’s come down with a fever”

“Oh no, tell him to call me when he feels better, could I come over and bring him soup?”

“Its probably best if you stay away for a while, don’t want you coming down with this either, but I’ll tell him you called dear” and with that she hung up which was not like her at all

•*•*•*•

I called back everyday for a week and it was the same answer for the first few days, that he was just sick but after the first few days they stopped answering and it was worrying me, Sue, Harry or Seth never treated me like this and it hurt to be completely honest

I didn’t have many friends at school and since Seth was my best friend and went to a different school down at la push, it kinda sucked being in this position

“Hey sweetie you okay?” I turned on the couch to see dad at the door coming back from working

“Oh I’m alright, ummm have you talked to Sue or Harry lately?” I asked

“Ya Harry is coming by later why what’s up?”

“Have they said anything about Seth?”

“Harry mentioned he was under the weather, did something happened between you guys?” He asked sitting in his lounge chair

“I don’t know, we had our movie night last week and I fell asleep but when I woke up he was gone and hasn’t called since and you know he doesn’t do that and tonight is our movie night again and…and I’m just worried, what if maybe I did something to upset him” I asked as my voice waivered

“Hey don’t stress I’m sure it’s nothing, maybe you should go out, clear your head for tonight”

“Maybe you’re right” I sighed as I got up grabbed my headphones, jacket and shoes and head out to the forest paths behind the house

I kept walking through the woods until I reached the cliffs where I knew some guys would recreationally jump

I sat down near the edge feeling the cool wind blow against my skin calming me down, still listening to the music Seth showed me

I stayed like that for a while until the sky turned orange and purple as the sun set

I stood up to leave but when I turned around I was met with glowing eyes

•*•*•*•*•

Part.2<-

PART 2 COMING SOON🤍

[rowdyhughesy]

Back to you - Jack Hughes

Summary: Y/N moves away, thinking that she will never see Jack Hughes again but Ellen Hughes has other ideas.

“I need you to know. That I'd come back to you, I'd come back to you. If you were a thousand miles away. With your new friends in a new place, I'd still come back to you. “

- Back to You, Jake Cornell

May 2018

Making the decision to break up after Y/N’s exchange year was over and it was time for her to fly home was hard. Neither of them wanting to make it but what choice did two 17 year olds have? Jack was staying in Michigan and Y/N was flying back to Germany. Tears rolling down their pink cheeks as Jack hugged the girl tighter against him. The Hughes family and Y/N’s host family behind them, looking on with sad eyes at two kids in love. No pain is greater then being in love with someone you know you can’t be with in this moment of time. This was a perfect example of right person wrong time. “Flight 195 gate 2A to Hamburg Germany from Detroit Michigan is now boarding.” The announcement feels like it echoes inside their heads, leaving nothing but more sadness and heartbreak behind. “You have to go.” Jacks voice cracks at the end, it’s small barely above a whisper and if Y/N wasn’t currently standing with her face buried in his neck she wouldn’t have heard him. Pulling away but only so that she could look into his eyes they force out teary smiles. Standing on her toes Y/N rests her forehead against Jacks. His breath fanning her face is shaky, like he’s forcing everything in his power to not break down. “Das ist kein Abschied. ich liebe dich Jack Hughes.” And with that she was boarding the flight and leaving Michigan, Jack, behind.

June 2019

She should probably be nervous, scared. This is crazy even for her but she can feel it in her bones that she has to be here. This is Jacks draft, she knows how much this means and even if they’re no longer together and haven’t been for over a year she needs to be in the same building even if it’s for a night. He doesn’t know that she’s in Vancouver, they haven’t spoken since last summer. The pain of timezones and distance became to much. Ellen and Jim knows though, Luke too. Y/N has talked to the youngest Hughes a couple of times since she went back home and Ellen constantly keeps in touch with the girl since she became Jacks ‘other half’ as they call her during that year. She didn’t want her to disappear just because life got in the way so she kept on calling and texting when she had the chance. That is how Y/N ended up in Canada. After much debating with the mother she decided. She was going.

Thumbnail between her teeth she paces back and forth on the sidewalk. Is this a good idea? What if Jack doesn’t love her anymore and doesn’t want her here? What if... A hand on her shoulder makes the anxious girl jump, startled she spins around coming face to face with Jim Hughes. “Jimmy!” Wide smiles are exchanged as they wrap each other in a hug. “Come on we gotta hurry before Rowdy notices I’ve wandered off and starts freaking out.” Jack. Ever the one to act like he isn’t freaking out on the inside because he knows that there is a chance for him to be picked number one when in reality he’s probably going crazy inside his mind. Following Jim like a lost puppy she can feel bile rising up her throat from the nervousness. That all goes away when she sees him, or rather his back as he’s talking to Ellen and some others from the Hughes-Weinberg fam. She can see Ellen mumble something to Jack that makes him freeze mid-sentence, body going rigid before slowly turning around. Eyes glossy, expression shifting between confused, sad and happy as they meet Y/N’s equally tear filled eyes. “I told you it wasn’t goodbye.”

Those few words seem to make Jack get in touch with reality as he takes off sprinting towards the girl standing beside his dad. Cradling her face in his hands he lets the tears fall. “Baby what are you doing here? I can’t believe you’re here. I’ve missed you so much.” His words jumble together as they fall past his lips getting a laugh out of Y/N. “I wasn’t going to miss your draft Jack. Besides, I will always find my way back to you. I’m not leaving this time. I’ll follow you to the end of the world if that’s what it takes.” Standing there with giddy smiles on their faces Jack finally leans in capturing Y/N’s lips in a kiss for the first time in a year.

They kept their promise, it wasn’t a goodbye just an I’ll see you later when the timing is right again.

[holylulusworld]

Too much - Kinktober 12

Summary: He’s back in town. Back in your life.

Request: hi! idk if you're allowing request but I'd like to give you this idea of mine since you're the only one I trust that can execute this very well and uhm,, having steve eating reader out, but instead of reader just lying on the bed, she's sitting on top of steve's face coz he requested it.

Rating: Explicit

Kink: Cunnilingus + overstimulation + face-sitting and a hint of beard burn

Idea by @elle14-blog1​

Pairing: Nomad!Steve Rogers x fem!Reader

Square 8 filled for @anyfandomkinkbingo: Old Flame

Square B1 filled for @mcukinkbingo: Answering a Craigs list ad

Square E2 filled for @steverogersbingo: Online dating

Square 18 filled for @star-spangled-bingo: Hair pulling

Square 16 filled for @marvelfluffbingo (expired): old flame au

Warnings: angst, language, getting back together, light hair pulling, oral (fem rec), face riding, dirty talk, fluff, overstimulation

Words: 900

Kinktober 2022

AFG KINK BINGO masterlist

2022 MARVEL KINK BINGO masterlist 

2021 MARVEL FLUFF BINGO masterlist

2021 STAR SPANGLED BINGO masterlist

Steve Rogers Bingo masterlist

“A Craig’s list ad, seriously, Cap?” Sam chuckles as his friend and confidant scrolls through his burner phone. “You think she will answer?” 

“I tried every platform she’s on. Even Tinder,” Steve sighs. “I need to see her and apologize. Sam, I just upped and left after the fight with Tony.”

“Online dating, Steve,” Natasha glances at the phone in Steve’s hand. “Why didn’t you just call her? Stalking your ex on Tinder is a new low.”

“Just stay out of my business. She will meet up with me to buy my sofa,” nodding to himself Steve looks at his phone again. “And you all know I can’t call Y/N. Ross and his minions would arrest her for even talking to me, Nat. ”

“You’ve got to be shitting me. Steven Grant Rogers! It was you? The guy on Tinder and Craig's list? I wanted to buy a fucking couch and you come around?”

“Baby,” he smirks darkly while stepping closer to you to cup your face. “I’ve missed you too.”

“I didn’t miss you at all,” you lie. 

“If you need a place to sit on,” you swallow thickly when his lips touch yours, “you can use my face, doll. I’ve missed having your cunt all over my face.”

“You’ve got a beard now.”

You run your hands over his beard. “Do you want to go for a ride?”

“I hope you know how to handle that beard, Sir…”

“Get up here,” Steve purrs. He just watches you step between his long legs, wearing little to nothing. “Let me see that pretty pussy up close.”

“Steve.”

“Please, doll. Give me that,” he lies back on the bed and gets comfortable, waiting for you to get on top of him. “Y/N…”

“I don’t know. Steve, we haven’t seen each other for so long and now you want to eat me out?” 

You sigh.

“’s all I dreamed of, doll.”

“I hope you are worth my time and that I missed the chance to get my hands on a vintage sofa,” you shimmy out of your panties, the last barrier protecting your cunt from his perfect face.

“I’ll be worth your time, darling.”

“Do you remember our safety tap?” you crawl onto the bed. “Steve?”

“I tap your thigh twice or pinch your thigh.”

“You’re such a good boy.”

“Boy?”

“Be still now,” you harshly pull at his hair. “Put your mouth to better use than talking. You’ll not talk until you made me cum.”

You go on your knees and straddle Steve's chest. He just looks at you, a content smile on his lips as you slowly move forward until your knees are placed on either side of Steve’s head.

“Spread those pretty legs,” he mumbles. “Please.”

You spread your legs far enough apart to provide good access to your dripping cunt. 

“Fuck doll. Give me that pussy.”

You grab the headboard to make sure to not lose balance. “Steve.”

While you hover over his face. It’s been too long since you and Steve had time to explore each other’s bodies.  

“Baby,” slowly lowering down until you feel his lips touch your pussy, you take a deep breath, “hold still.”

You whimper, but try to stay still as Steve grips your hips and gets to work. He laps at your folds, forcing tiny moans out of you. He licks over your clit while guiding your body. His mouth and tongue seem to work in sync to break your will.

“Steve,” you grip the headboard tighter when he pokes your thigh to tell you to start grinding. “Fuck.”

You’ve missed Steve. But you missed his talented mouth even more.

You stop grinding and let Steve take over control. Your breathing quickens and you moan his name as he picks up the pace. 

“Steve,” he doesn’t let up. Even when you slap the headboard. He rubs his beard against your pussy, flicks your clit with his tongue, or wraps his mouth around your sensitive bud.

“Fuck, Steve,” you gush all over his face, but he still doesn’t stop. He hums against you and keeps on sucking, licking, flicking, and nibbling. “STEVE!”

You want to move off his face, but Steve holds your body in a tight grip. “I can’t,” you come again, whining as it’s still not enough for Steve. He puts even more effort into taking you apart.

His tongue slides in and out of your cunt, making your legs quiver. “Steve, please. No more.”

You can hear him chuckle against your sex. That’s all you get from him. He simply keeps on fucking you with his tongue. “Steve,” you arch your back and start grinding again. “No—I…”

Steve only stops to get a few gulps of air before he buries his face back between your thighs. He nuzzles your pussy. “Steve, stop. I can’t take it anymore…”

“I’m sorry for leaving without telling you anything. I had to get Sam and the others out,” he whispers as you snuggle in his chest. “We always kept an eye on you, though.”

“I want to come with you,” you cover his mouth with your hand. “No protests. I got two duffle bags hidden in the back of my wardrobe.”

“You’ve been waiting for me to return.”

Steve sniffles.

“I would’ve waited all my life for you, Steve…”

That night Steve takes you with him. He’ll never leave you out of sight ever again…

Tags in reblog.

[themultifandomgal]

From 2010- Funeral

2012

Part 24

Trigger warning- religious talk and talk about death.

“Hey” I see Liam and Harry walking into my bedroom wearing all black and a sad smile “the errm… the cars outside” Liam says as I look at myself in my black dress in the mirror

“I don’t think I can do this” I tell them looking down at my feet “I don’t want to do this”

“I know, but you’ll regret it if you don’t. We will all be by your side”

“How have I lost another person I love?” Tears start to spill from my eyes as I turn to face Harry and Liam

“ m’so sorry YN” Harry says opening his arms out and I run into them. Harry strokes my hair while holding me

“Guys we have to go” I hear Zayn say

“We’re coming. Come on” Liam takes my hand and leads me downstairs and out of the house where my dad is waiting with the other boys and Emma. Reluctantly I get into the car that’s following the hearse with Alex’s mum, dad and sister who are all crying. The boys, my dad and Emma will be following us in another car.

The drive to the church is quiet, expect for all of our sobs. I haven’t been able to take my eyes off the hearse in front where I can see his coffin. My hand never leaves his mothers. Yes I’ve lost my love, but she’s lost her son all because of a drunk driver who still hasn’t been caught.

Once the car has stopped we slowly get out. I immediately go to my dad, holding on to his arm. I notice many of our old school friends, even James is here with I’m guessing his boyfriend. Not wanting to interact with anyone I follow Alex’s parents into the church and we take our seats

“The grace and peace of God our Father, who raised Jesus from the dead, be always with you” the priest says sprinkling water on the casket

“And you” we all reply

“We gather here today to celebrate the life of Alexander Williams, who has now returned to his home with Our God, The Father. I’d like to read a passage from the Old Testament. Wisdom 3:1-9 The souls of the righteous are in the hand of God, and no torment shall touch them. They seemed, in the view of the foolish, to be dead; and their passing away was thought an affliction and their going forth from us, utter destruction.

But they are in peace. For if to others, indeed, they seem punished, yet is their hope full of immortality; chastised a little, they shall be greatly blessed, because God tried them and found them worthy of himself.

As gold in the furnace, he proved them, and as sacrificial offerings he took them to himself. In the time of their judgment they shall shine and dart about as sparks through stubble they shall judge nations and rule over peoples, and the LORD shall be their King forever.

Those who trust in him shall understand truth, and the faithful shall abide with him in love: because grace and mercy are with his holy ones, and his care is with the elect. The Word of the Lord” tears spill throughout the whole reading. I wipe the tears from my face with the back of my hand “I’d like to invite Alex’s partner YN up here to read his eulogy” shakingly I stand up and walk to the front of the church where the priest was

“I wrote and rewrote this so many times. I didn’t know where to start. So I decided to just start with saying that Alex was the kindest human I think I ever knew. I don’t think he ever had a bad bone in his body. We met at high school, I sat next to him in maths which we all know was not my strong suite. Alex helped me when I was struggling. He loved his family and….” I choke up a little while reading. I wipe my tears and take a deep breath “sorry. He loved his family and friends and would have done anything for them. He also cared about others, strangers that he saw on the streets. More often than not he would be giving money to some sort of charity. I will forever be grateful for the time we spent together and hope I could only be half the person he was” I now turn to the coffin “I will always love you Alex, I hope you rest in peace” I kiss my hand and place it on the coffin before going back to my seat.

The priest talks some more, we do a few prayers before finishing up the service with the Lords Prayer.

“Why don’t we go for lunch?”

“Not hungry” I reply to Emma wrapped up in a blanket on the sofa staring at the TV that’s not even on

“Then why don’t we take cookie for a walk?”

“Dad took her earlier” I reply

“Come on YN. It’s been a week since the funeral”

“My boyfriend died, was killed by a possible drunk driver who hasn’t been caught yet so I’m sorry that I’m sad and grieving” Emma sighs at my response

“I know your trying to push me away, your hurting, but I’m staying here. You can yell at me all you like but I’m not going anywhere” I turn away from Emma and stare at the TV again

“I’m sorry” I whisper hating that I shouted at Emma. She’s grieving as well “I just keep thinking that this is a dream, a nightmare that I’ll wake up from”

“I know, I’m so sorry your having to go through this again” Emma pulls me into her side letting my cry “Alex will always be here with you. Why don’t we do something to honour him”

“I’ve wanted to get a tattoo for my mum. Maybe I could get one in honour of Alex as well”

“Love that idea, but before you book a tattoo and get it done maybe we should have a shower and brush our teeth Hmm?” I give Emma a little nudge

“Thank you for being here and not leaving me to deal with this”

“Always”

[gvfgal]

2. Our Old Friend, Death.

Barbarian. Biker!Jake

*18+, minors, exit stage left.

A/n: Chapter two is here! Let me know if you’d like to be added to the Taglist, and as always, enjoy <3

Warnings: Mentions of death, smoking, alcohol consumption, mentions of poor relationships with parents, funeral mumbo jumbo, language, violence, fighting, blood, allusions to and brief mentions of sex, wound care.

Word count: 5k

As Jake’s eyes slowly fluttered open, he found himself enveloped in an unfamiliar room. Sunlight streamed through the curtains, casting a soft glow on the walls adorned with art and posters he didn’t recognize. As he began piecing together the pieces of the night before, a slow smile began to spread across his face. You were no longer laying beside him, but he could still taste you on his tongue, along with the whiskey he’d slightly overindulged in. But his smile quickly faded as the weight of the day ahead settled upon his shoulders.

Rex’s Funeral.

After years of avoiding it, Jake was finally faced with confronting the complex emotions that had plagued him for so long. Today, he would have to navigate the difficult landscape of love, loss, and forgiveness, reconcile with the legacy left behind by his father, and bid him his final farewell.

With a heavy sigh, Jake rose from the disheveled bed, pulling on his boxers, then his jeans. He lifted his shirt to inspect, but when he remembered what it had been used for the previous night, he decided to do without it.

He made his way out the bedroom and into the kitchen where you were seated at the table with a mug of coffee, it’s scent permeating through the air. Your knees were pulled to your chest as you gazed out the window, but when you noticed his presence in the room, your day dreaming stopped. Your eyes were soft as you watched him hover in the entry way, wearing his scars like his sunday’s best, his lack of shame warmed you.

“You talk in your sleep.”

Jake chuckled as he crossed the room to sit across from you, “yeah, I’ve been told that before.”

“Better be careful with that,” you taunted, “might mess around and tell someone your deepest darkest secrets.”

He leaned forward onto he table with a playful grin, similar to the bar the night before, “did I tell them to you?”

You raised your cup to your lips with an indifferent shrug, “maybe.”

Jake’s face faltered, clearing his throat uncomfortably at the possibility, while you enjoyed every second of it.

“You want some coffee?” you changed the subject, deciding to give him a break. He shook his head, “I need to start getting ready for the… the funeral.”

He peered out of the window you were previously gazing out of, it giving the perfect view of Rex’s untouched house. He felt around in his pocket for the key that Ace handed him the day before, gripping it so tightly that the ridges threatened to slice into his skin.

“Do you mind if I get ready here? I haven’t gotten the key to Rex’s place yet.”

You watched him curiously, the way he furrowed and unfurrowed his brows as he continued looking outside, a clear battle waging inside his mind.

“Sure. I’ll be around for another hour or so. My coworker Angela is coming to pick me up for inventory at the tavern.”

Jake eyed Rex’s house for a moment longer before he turned and smiled at you wearily, “thanks.”

After he was done getting dressed, Jake stood in front of the mirror, his hardened reflection staring back at him. It was a rare sight to see himself cleaned up this way, a stark contradiction to his usual rugged appearance. He ran his fingers through his hair, smoothing it down before adjusting his collar, feeling the unfamiliar fabric against his skin. For a moment, he allowed himself to appreciate how good he looked, he dared even say he looked handsome.

But as his gaze lingered on his reflection, memories began flooding his mind. The last time he’d dressed up like this was for another funeral, the funeral of his best friend, Jaxon. The pain of that loss still cut deep, a wound that would never fully heal, and therefore would haunt Jake for the rest of his life.

Though he always blamed Nicky for Jaxon’s untimely death, it was Rex who put the three of them in that position in the first place, meaning he was just as much to blame, if not more. Their relationship had always been complicated, but that event had pushed it to it’s breaking point. Jake resented his father for prioritizing the Barbarians over everything, including the safety and well-being of those closest to him.

And now, here he was, on his way to bury him. The irony wasn’t lost on Jake, life had a twisted way of bringing things full circle. As he continued to stare, he wondered if he would feel closure after today, if the buried anger and resentment would find some resolution. Or perhaps, it would only deepen the complexities and conflicts within him.

You were seated on the couch in front of the Tv when he returned, craning your neck to take in his appearance.

“Well you sure do clean up nice,” you stated mater of factly.

Jake’s smile didn’t reach his eyes, and you felt the strange urge to go and hug him, but you refrained.

“I gotta get going.”

You nodded, “okay.”

He made his way towards the door, but stopped just as his hand curled around the handle, turning back to look at you, “what’s your real name, Cherry?”

The tv was the only sound to be heard in the room for a long stretch of time. There was a reason you hadn’t told him your name up front, and it wasn’t for the sake of flirting. You didn’t trust him, not yet anyways. But as he stood there at he door, looking so innocent as he was on his way to do one of the hardest things a person had to do, you released all your inhibitions.

When you finally revealed the answer, a real smile crept onto his face, “that’s beautiful. I like it.” Light poured into the room as he pulled the door open, “I think I’ll stick to Cherry, though.”

The sun was blinding he stepped outside, but Jake could see a woman milling about in front of his dad’s house. Confused, he made his way down the porch until he could see the woman clearly.

“Ma?” She whipped around in his direction, smiling like nothing was out of the ordinary, as expected, a cigarette already hanging out of her mouth.

“The hell are you doin’ over at Riley’s?”

He was already standing in front of her before he answered, completely changing the subject, “no what the hell are you doing here?”

She pinched her cigarette between her fingers and snuffed it onto the ground before putting her hands on her hips, “do you really think I’d miss the opportunity to see that motherfucker get put six feet under?”

At first Jake was mad, angry that she had the nerve to show up there, but with an answer like that, he couldn’t stay mad. He shook his head with a laugh, “only you would say some shit like that about a dead man on the day of his funeral.”

His mother pulled him into a tight hug, and he hesitated before returning the gesture, “Oh I’m just kidding a little,” she pulled away and beamed up at him, “I really just wanted to come ad support you.

“Support me?” Jake chortled, “it’s a funeral mom. Rex’s funeral.”

“I know I know,” she dismissed as she began rubbing her thumbs across his face, so in awe of the man her son had become. “I know you weren’t his biggest fan, hell, neither was I,” her face softened, “but that doesn't mean putting him in the ground is gonna be any easier.”

Jake hadn’t seen his mother in almost three years. Before that, it had been 2 years, and before that, another year and a half. Their relationship, if possible, was a lot more complicated than the one had had with his father. For as long as he could remember, his mother was popping in and out of his life. Days after his second birthday, she told Rex that she no longer wanted to be with him, and that she was leaving. When he woke up the next morning, she was in fact gone, but had left a tiny smiling Jake behind, and from then on, it was just him, Rex, and the rest of the Barbarians.

She’d come back and play house every once in awhile, whenever things between her and her latest boyfriend were shot down in flames. Those times, Jake remembered, were some of the best times of his life. Both of his parents under one roof, existing like a proper family.

But of course, that never lasted long. It was only a matter of time before she’d dissapear again, walking out of Jake’s life like it was the easiest thing for her to do. She only ever stayed around long enough to stir up trouble and leave when the pressure got too tough.

In anyone’s opinion, all of Jake’s disdain should’ve been reserved for her, but in his mind, things were a lot different. Sure, Vicky wasn’t the greatest person, and her six month runs in Genoa hardly qualified her as a mother, but she’d caused a lot less grief in Jake’s life than Rex did. She wasn’t the reason his best friend was dead, that was Rex who held that title.

She was still staring up at him with a somber smile, and Jake finally grinned back, “it’s good to see you, ma.”

You trailer door swung open again, similar to the way it had the day before, and both Vicky and Jake turned in your direction. They watched as you jogged down the stairs just as Angela’s car pulled up on the curb. You gave Jake a small wave before ducking down into the car, a few seconds passing before it began making it’s way down the street.

Vicky watched until you were out of sight, “who the hell was that?”

The grin on Jake’s face spread wider as he too watched the car drive off, “that’s Cherry.”

The air inside the dimly lit funeral parlor was heavy with a sense of reverence and solemnity. It was a place where the rituals of life and death intertwined, where the Barbarians prepared to bid farewell to their fallen leader in their own unique way. Funerals for the Barbarians were known to be distinct, incorporating elements of tradition and honor rarely seen in other biker gangs.

As Jake stepped through the doors, his eyes swept the gathering crowd. Dressed in their classic funeral attire— black suits, crisp white shirts, and ties— the Barbarians stood out, a stark contrast against the backdrop of mourning.

His presence beside Vicky was immediately noticed by Ace, who approached them with a nod of acknowledgment.

“You look sharp, kid,” he complimented Jake, his voice laced with a mix of respect and underlying tension. He turned his attention to Vicky next, “long time no see, Vick. I’m surprised you were bold enough to show your face around here,” he remarked with a hint of sarcasm in his tone.

Never one to back down, Vicky took a bold step in Ace’s direction. “You Barbarians don’t scare me any,” she retorted, her voice dripping with defiance. With a determined stride, she moved past them, searching for her seat amidst the somber rows of pews. Ace’s gaze lingered on her for a moment, an unspoken admiration glimmering in his eyes, before he refocused his attention on Jake.

“So, are you ready?” he asked, his voice softer now, tinged with genuine concern. Jake felt a nervous energy swirling within him, but he maintained a cool facade, doing his best to hide his apprehension from one of the few people who knew him best.

“Yeah. Yeah I got this,” he assured with a nod of his head.

The organist began playing, signaling the start of the service, and the group of men crowded around the room began to disperse to their seats, Jake and Ace finding a spot on the front pew beside Vicky.

The officiant took the podium and began speaking, and at the very same time, Jake’s mind checked out. The first half of the service seemed to blur by as he sat in a haze of thoughts and emotions, the weight of Rex’s absence hanging heavily in the air. Words of rememberance and heartfelt tributes echoed through the room, and Jake did his best to listen. But most of the words slipped by him, lost in the maelstrom of his own thoughts.

Then, through the ebb and flow of the ceremony, the officiant’s voice rang out again, cutting through the haze. He had called Jake’s name, summoning him to the front to deliver the dammed eulogy. Vicky gave him a pat on his leg for encouragement, and he stood, sauntering up to the podium to look over the sea of people that had shown up in Rex’s honor.

Jake’s heart was pounding in his chest, the well written and eloquent eulogy he’d worked on burning a hole in his pocket. As much as he wanted to read it, he knew that this was the last moment he’d have to say what he really felt, not just what he’d rehearsed.

He gripped tightly onto either side of the podium, looking from Ace, then to his mother, before he opened his mouth to speak.

“I wanna uh, thank everyone for coming to… celebrate the hell of a life my dad Rex lived.” Ace smiled wearily, sending Jake another nod, he knew if he were standing beside him, he’d probably be patting him on the shoulder.

“He wasn’t always… easy to get along with, you know? We had our fair share of ups than down, and to be honest, there were more downs than ups.” Jake’s eyes found the closed casket positioned below him, a wave of uncertainty surging through him, “Rex pushed me… hard, to join the Barbarians. Truthfully, sometimes I felt like I was just another piece of his… big biker puzzle,” he chuckled. “But hey, that was his way of showing love, I guess. It was twisted, messed up, but it was his way.”

Jake chewed at his lip as everyone focused on him so intently, “we didnt see eye to eye on a lot of things, and there were times I couldn’t even stand the sight of him. The scars he left, they’re not just physical, they’re emotional too.” He shook his head in disbelief as the next words floated out of him, “but here’s the thing.., deep down, despite everything we’ve been through, there’s still love. Messed up as it sounds, theres a strange kind of love buried beneath the mess we had.” He looked back onto the crowd, “he was dedicated to the Barbarians, you know? It was like his whole life revolved around it, even when it meant putting the gang before me. And I’ll be the first to admit that it hurt, hell, it still hurts. But over the years, I’ve come to realize that’s just who he was. The Barbarian blood ran, no, runs, thick in his veins. He lived for it, and if he needed to… he’d die for it.”

“Now as I stand here today, stumbling my way through this eulogy, I cant help but feel a jumble of emotions. It’s- it’s like a hurricane of memories and regrets just, waging their own silent battle. Yeah, I didn’t always see eye to eye with my old man, but. He was still my dad,” his voice faltered, “flawed, messed up, but my dad.”

The odd feeling of tears stinging at the back of his eyes caused him to clear his throat, powering his way through the rest of the speech.

“So yeah, as we say goodbye to Rex today, I want to honor his memory in my own way. Me stepping back into the brotherhood, it’s not because it’s what he wanted, but its because it’s a part of who I am, too. It’s about embracing the tangled mess of love and pain that was our relationship, and finding some kind of closure, some kind of redemption for all that was lost.”

“In the end, my father was a man of many contradictions. He wasn’t perfect, far from it. But he was a leader, and he found his purpose in this life. And maybe, just maybe, he found some kind of peace in it too,” Jake let out a heavy sigh, “so here’s to you, old man. Ride free now, wherever you may be. Your memory will always be with us, in the rumble of the engines and the wind in our faces. Thanks for the love, thanks for the scars, and thanks for being my dad.”

The entirety of the Barbarians stood from their seats, a loud chorus as they recited the familiar phrase as one, “in life, we ride together. In death, we ride forever!”

Jake made his way back to his seat as the weight of his words lingered in the air and a somber silence took over. As he settled down beside Vicky, she turned to him, her eyes filled wit pride and compassion.

“You did good, baby,” she whispered warmly. Her words brought a flicker of comfort to Jake’s heart, a brief respite amidst the emotional turbulence. Though he hadn’t expected her to be there in the first place, he appreciated her support, knowing she understood the complexity of the feelings he possessed.

But even as he sat there, surrounded by the presence of his biker family, a deep sense of unrest gnawed at him. The funeral, though a significant milestone, didn’t provide the closure he had hoped for. Instead, it marked the beginning of a new chapter in his life— one that entwined him further with the Barbarians.

As the ceremony came to a close, the guests began to disperse, but Jake sat and stared fiercely at the coffin. He was bracing himself for the journey ahead of him, knowing that the only way to survive was to embrace it fully. It would test his mettle, reshape his identity, and forge stronger bonds that would defy the boundaries of time and distance.

Once the graveside service ended, Jake lingered about the plot as waves of people came to offer their condolences. He accepted them, because that's what he was supposed to do, but a part of him felt guilty for doing so. Was it right to accept them when he was halfway glad that Rex was gone?

He found himself watching the casket constantly, suspended above the six foot hole in the earth that would soon own it forever. Briefly, his mind flashed back to the day that Jaxon's casket was being lowered into the ground, the memory shooting daggers through his chest.

The crowd of people slowly thinned, and soon enough, there was only Jake, Vicky, and a few of the Barbarians. Vicky had been giving her son his space to allow people to pay them his respects, and once he was finally alone, sitting on one of the folding metal chairs, she approached him.

She sat beside him without saying a word, only watching as a soft breeze blew across his face and sent his wavy locks swaying.

"So, where are you running off to, now?" Jake asked her, his eyes till trained into the distance.

Vicky sighed as she looked away from his face, mirroring his stature.

"Back to Florida, probably," she sighed, "that's where I've been the past five months."

Jake nodded, but had yet to look at his mother. This is what Vicky did, he was used to it. But at that moment, he was vulnerable, and he suddenly felt like his eight year old self, watching his mom walk right back out of his life like it was the easiest thing to do.

"Jake, look at me," Vicky spoke again. Jake waited a few seconds before complying.

"I want you to promise me that you'll be careful," she pleaded, her small fragile hand covering his, "please."

"Mom I-"

"No," Vicky cut him off, "I need you to listen to me."

And he did.

"I know that I haven't been the best mother to you," she began, Jake could feel her fragile hands trembling in his own, "and I'm sorry for that. But you're my baby, my only baby boy."

Jake let out a deep sigh, letting Vicky continue, "growing up here, in Genoa, around the Barbarians, I've seen so much death and destruction, so many wives burying their husbands... so many mothers burying their sons," she lifted her hand to cup his cheek, a somber smile casted on her face as she gazed into his eyes.

Moments like this between the two were rare, Vicky always wore a hard exterior, she had her rough upbringing to blame. And Jake was no different. But that's what made those moments so important. When those brief moments of vulnerability peeked through, Jake was more willing to listen, and Vicky was more willing to speak.

"Jake I don't want you dying before I do," she chortled, forcing down the tears that threatened to smear her thick black eyeliner, " 'cause I don't know who's gonna deliver my eulogy if you do."

That wall was slowly beginning to form again; humor being used to mask what she really wanted to say.

If you die, I might just die, too.

But Jake had heard her loud and clear. He reached down to pull his mother into a tight hug, running a hand along her back as he did so.

"Promise me you'll do everything you can to survive," Vicky whispered as she hugged him back.

"I promise, ma. I promise."

Jake walked his mother to her car and the two said their final goodbyes, embracing one more time.

"Hey do me a favor," Jake offered, leaning down to look at Vicky through her open window.

"What's that, son?"

"Try not to get in any trouble out there?" he smirked.

Vicky laughed as she slid her knockoff Prada sunglasses over her eyes, "oh Jake, it wouldn't be me if I didn't stir up a little trouble."

And with that, she was gone. Jake watched her disappear down the long road out of the cemetery before making the short walk back to his bike. A long ride out in the desert would do his mind good.

The atmosphere of the tavern matched that of the funeral home, a rare occurrence that only happened on evenings such as this one. Slow country music played from the jukebox rather than the usual rock, and the typical loud hum of conversation was nothing but hushed whispers.

Jake had isolated himself from most of the gang, alone in a corner of the bar, strangely wishing you were there to keep him company. However, his solitude was short lived before Nicky ambled over to him, sitting beside him with a smug grin, setting his glass on the counter.

“So Jake, how does it feel to be back?”

Jake cut his eyes at Nicky before raising his beer bottle to his lips, “I haven’t decided yet.”

Nicky scanned the bar before leaning in to hiss, “don’t think that just because Rex is gone that you can waltz back in here and start taking shit over,” he shook his head, “doesn’t work like that around here.”

Jake took one more swig from his beer and sat it down, his eyes rolling in Nicky’s direction. He took a deep breath, trying to maintain his composure.

“Nicky, I just buried my father. Do we really have to do this right now?”

It was very clear that Nicky was simply trying to get under his skin, using the funeral as a hopeful weak spot to challenge him. But Jake was in no mood for it, in fact, he found that his patience was particularly thin at the moment, no matter how calm he appeared on the outside.

Nicky waited nine long years fo the chance to undermine him, tired of living in the shadow of the Barbarian Prince.

“You always were the golden boy, huh?” he spat, almost in an astonished way, “getting praised for doing absolute jack shit, all because your Rex’s kid.”

Jake’s jaw began to tick as Nicky countinued to press, but he tried his hardest to remain cool. However, Nicky was nothing if not persistent.

“You’re not built for this life, Jake,” he chuckled bitterly, “I mean hell, you up and ran out of Genoa with your tail tucked between your legs all because you couldn’t handle Jaxon-”

The mention of the name coming from Nicky’s mouth was enough to break the last bit of equanimity Jake had left. He flew out of his seat, knocking it to the ground with a loud thud as he crowded into NIcky’s space. He stood as well, the two now chest to chest.

“Don’t fucking say his name,” Jake spat, his fists clenching at his sides as his chest heaved.

The entire bar had their attention on them, all waiting in anticipation of the inevitable. Ace crossed his arms over his chest with a shake of his head, murmuring, “here we go.”

Another grin spread across Nicky’s face, “still sore about that, are we?”

There was only a split second between the last word leaving his mouth and Jake’s fist connecting with his face. The two crashed into each other, blow after blow being thrown as they stumbled into the bar top then to the ground. Jake’s beer bottle toppled off the counter and shattered on the floor beside them, a rogue piece slashing him across the eyebrow.

A couple of the guys began rushing towards them to put a stop to it, but Ace stepped forward and held a hand up, “let ‘em have it. This one’s been brewing for a loonggg time.”

Jake was merciless as his fists collided with any part of Nicky he could connect with, and Nicky’s punches were just as angry. Adrenaline prevented him from feeling the sting of the cut on his head, but he knew it was there as blood dripped down onto Nicky’s shirt in his peripheral.

The fight lingered on, and when Ace realized that neither of them were letting up, he and Madcap stepped up and took a hold of each of them.

“Alright, alright you two, that’s plenty good,” Ace bellowed as he wrangled Jake away from the debris. Steeljaw had to step in to assist him in getting Jake out the door, and once outside, the cool night air was enough to snap Jake out of his fury.

He wiped a stream of blood from his face as he began pacing, the pain in his eye and knuckles beginning to set in. Ace assured Steeljaw he had control of the situation, and he dissapeared back inside.

“You alright, kid?” he questioned as his eyes tracked his movements.

“That motherfucker,” Jake paused to spit blood into the dirt parking lot and take a deep breath, “that motherfucker has the strongest fucking face ever. I think I fractured my fucking knuckle.”

Ace stared at him in disbelief as silence stretched on before they broke out into laughter. Ace shook his head, “your’e crazy, man.”

Jake was hunched over as he tried to control his breathing. He felt a good sense of release after the brawl, letting most of his frustrations out on Nicky, one of the most deserving people. His eyes found Ace’s, and by the look he returned, he could tell that he could see the nagging sadness behind them.

“Why don’t you go home? I know it’s been a long last couple days. Get some rest, and we’ll see you at the meeting on Monday.”

Jake stood upright and nodded, “I think I’ll do that.”

It was only going on eight o’clock, but Ace was right, it had been a long last few days, and Jake was exhausted. Mentally, physically, emotionally. He mounted his bike and brought it to life, giving Ace a salute before pulling out of the parking lot.

As he turned onto his street, it appeared as if Rex’s house had a gray storm cloud looming over it. He parked on the street in front of it, staring for as long as his eyes would allow him before turning to look at your trailer, a light still on in your living room.

It wasn’t on his own accord that he made his way up your porch, and it wasn’t on his accord that he knocked. And when you opened the door with that cute curious expression that you wore often, it wasn’t on his own accord that the air was knocked from his chest.

“Jake,” you frowned, “what are you doing here?” Your eyes fell to the cut on his eye, then down to his angry red knuckles, “what happened?”

His tired gaze found yours, a weak smile spread across his face, “I kinda don’t wanna talk about it, I just wanna forget about it,” he raked his eyes down your exposed legs that your oversized hoodie did little to cover, “do you think you can help me with that?”

You stepped outside and wrapped your arms around his shoulders, pulling him close as you planted a soft kiss onto his split lip. His hands found your waist as he kissed you back just as gently, his breath ghosting across your skin.

“I think I can help you with that.”

An hour and a half later, Jake was seated on your toilet lid as you stood between his legs, cleaning the cut on his eye, something you probably should’ve done before having sex.

He was motionless as you dabbed the dried blood away with a cotton ball soaked in peroxide, “haven’t even been here two days and you’re already stirring up trouble,” you smiled and shook your head. “What are we gonna do with you Jake Kiszka?”

He was leaning back against the porcelain, his body tense from the pain of his injuries. His eyes were fixed on you, but as you were completely focused on your task, he couldn’t help but be captivated by your beauty. The softness of your features, the gentle way you moved, it all seemed too precious for the dismal world you guys found yourself in there in Genoa.

In that moment, he felt a strange surge of protectiveness towards you, a longing to shield you from the harsh reality of your surroundings. He still didn’t know you very well, but he felt like a girl like you deserved to be somewhere else, somewhere vibrant and alive. A place where the sun kissed sandy beaches and crystal clear waters stretched as far as the eye can see.

“Can I ask you something, Cherry?” he muttered into the silence.

Your eyes met his, “sure.”

His hand came to clutch the back of your knee, his thumb rubbing small circles against your skin, “what are you doing here? In Genoa?”

Your expression dulled for a split second before you chuckled softly, “I thought Ace already told you that. I came here to take care of Riley.”

You tossed the cotton ball in the trash can and picked up the tweezers from the counter, leaning in to remove a small shard of glass still lodged in his eye. He winced, curling his fingers tighter around your leg.

“Yeah but you guys weren’t really close like that,” he hissed at the pain, “No one even knew he had a kid. Plus, he’s been dead almost two years now.”

Your mind raced at his questioning. He was right, the revelation of your connection to Riley came as a shock to all the Barbarians when you popped up in Genoa, and his absence of nearly two years only added to the confusion surrounding your circumstances. Most people would’ve jumped ship at the first opportunity, yet here you were.

As you stared into Jake’s eyes, you felt a mixture of fear and vulnerability. There was more to your decision to stay in town, but that was a secret you guarded closely. You weren’t sure if it was something you should reveal yet, if ever, so for the time being, you had to do your best to maintain face, stick to your story by all means.

Not a word was spoken as you continued to eye one another, Jake’s eyes fiercely unwavering as if he could see past the neutral expression on your face. You wondered if he was privy to the hidden truth that you were so desperate to keep hidden. You also wondered what the consequences would be if he did know the truth, would it fracture the unsuspected fragile bond the two of you had formed? Would he even be able to look at you the same if you let him in on all the darkness on your past?

You tossed the old cotton ball in the trash and soaked a new one, “you know I dated Nicky when I first got here,” you scoffed, “if you can even call it that.”

Jake’s brow that wasn’t being tended to peaked on his face, “is that right?”

You shrugged, “it only lasted about two weeks. Nicky’s an awful person, and I’ve had enough of awful people in my life. So I ended things before they could even really get started. And after that I told myself I’d never sleep with another Barbarian again.”

“What changed?”

You stopped to give him your attention again, bringing your fingers to rub across his bruising lip, “you’re so much better than the rest of them, Jake. I just know it.”

Your words hit him harder than he’d expected. No one had ever said something like that to him and actually meant it, and the tender look in your eyes told him that you did. Moments of vulnerability like this were rare to him. He wanted to believe what you said, but that was hard to do when he’d believed nothing but the opposite his entire life.

He grinned slyly, “I thought you said I was nothing but trouble?”

You removed your hand and began unwrapping the large bandaid on the counter, “well, both can be true at the same time.” Jake waited patiently as you spread a topical antibiotic over the cut and covered it, “you’re lucky you don’t need stitches for this thing.”

You inspected his face again, hand on his jaw to move it into the light. There were areas that were showing signs of bruising, and you wanted to slap Nicky for tarnishing such a beautiful face.

“Are you hungry? I made dinner,” you asked as you continued holding Jake’s face in your hand.

He faked a smile, “starving.”

“Okay, I’ll fix you a plate. Are you staying over again?”

He pulled you closer until you were flush against his chest, his neck craned up to look at you, “yeah Cherry, I’ll stay.”

3: Debts & Destiny

Taglist: @myownparadise96 @writingcold @jordie-gvf

[fromkenari]

A mass of fools and knaves

The full email exchange between Alex Claremont Diaz and Prince Henry Fox Mountchristen Windsor from Chapter Nine of Red, White and Royal Blue by Casey McQuiston. Put here for my best friend to read.

A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 1:04 AM to Henry H, Have you ever read any of Alexander Hamilton’s letters to John Laurens? What am I saying? Of course you haven’t. You’d probably be disinherited for revolutionary sympathies. Well, since I got the boot from the campaign, there is literally nothing for me to do but watch cable news (diligently chipping away at my brain cells by the day) and sort through all my old shit from college. Just looking at papers, thinking: Excellent, yes, I’m so glad I stayed up all night writing this for a 98 in the class, only to get summarily fired from the first job I ever had and exiled to my bedroom! Great job, Alex! Is this how you feel in the palace all the time? It fucking sucks, man. So anyway, I’m going through my college stuff, and I find this analysis I did of Hamilton’s wartime correspondence, and hear me out: I think Hamilton could have been bi. His letters to Laurens are almost as romantic as his letters to his wife. Half of them are signed “Yours” or “Affectionately yrs,” and the last one before Laurens died is signed “Yrs for ever.” I can’t figure out why nobody talks about the possibility of a Founding Father being not straight (outside of Chernow’s biography, which is great btw, see attached bibliography). I mean, I know why, but. Anyway, I found this part of a letter he wrote to Laurens, and it made me think of you. And me, I guess: The truth is I am an unlucky honest man, that speak my sentiments to all and with emphasis. I say this to you because you know it and will not charge me with vanity. I hate Congress—I hate the army—I hate the world—I hate myself. The whole is a mass of fools and knaves; I could almost except you … Thinking about history makes me wonder how I’ll fit into it one day, I guess. And you too. I kinda wish people still wrote like that. History, huh? Bet we could make some. Affectionately yrs, slowly going insane, Alex, First Son of Founding Father Sacrilege

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 239-241). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 4:18 AM to A Alex, First Son of Masturbatory Historical Readings: The phrase “see attached bibliography” is the single sexiest thing you have ever written to me. Every time you mention your slow decay inside the White House, I can’t help but feel it’s my fault, and I feel absolutely shit about it. I’m sorry. I should have known better than to turn up at a thing like that. I got carried away; I didn’t think. I know how much that job meant to you. I just want to … you know. Extend the option. If you wanted less of me, and more of that—the work, the uncomplicated things—I would understand. Truly. In any event … Believe it or not, I have actually done a bit of reading on Hamilton, for a number of reasons. First, he was a brilliant writer. Second, I knew you were named after him (the pair of you share an alarming number of traits, by the by: passionate determination, never knowing when to shut up, &c &c). And third, some saucy tart once tried to impugn my virtue against an oil painting of him, and in the halls of memory, some things demand context. Are you angling for a revolutionary soldier role-play scenario? I must inform you, any trace of King George III blood I have would curdle in my very veins and render me useless to you. Or are you suggesting you’d rather exchange passionate letters by candlelight? Should I tell you that when we’re apart, your body comes back to me in dreams? That when I sleep, I see you, the dip of your waist, the freckle above your hip, and when I wake up in the morning, it feels like I’ve just been with you, the phantom touch of your hand on the back of my neck fresh and not imagined? That I can feel your skin against mine, and it makes every bone in my body ache? That, for a few moments, I can hold my breath and be back there with you, in a dream, in a thousand rooms, nowhere at all? I think perhaps Hamilton said it better in a letter to Eliza: You engross my thoughts too intirely to allow me to think of any thing else—you not only employ my mind all day; but you intrude upon my sleep. I meet you in every dream—and when I wake I cannot close my eyes again for ruminating on your sweetness. If you did decide to take the option mentioned at the start of this email, I do hope you haven’t read the rest of this rubbish. Regards, Haplessly Romantic Heretic Prince Henry the Utterly Daft

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 241-243). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves A agcd@eclare45.com                8/10/20 5:36 AM to Henry H, Please don’t be stupid. No part of any of this will ever be uncomplicated. Anyway, you should be a writer. You are a writer. Even after all this, I still always feel like I want to know more of you. Does that sound crazy? I just sit here and wonder, who is this person who knows stuff about Hamilton and writes like this? Where does someone like that even come from? How was I so wrong? It’s weird because I always know things about people, gut feelings that usually lead me in more or less the right direction. I do think I got a gut feeling with you, I just didn’t have what I needed in my head to understand it. But I kind of kept chasing it anyway, like I was just going blindly in a certain direction and hoping for the best. I guess that makes you the North Star? I wanna see you again and soon. I keep reading that one paragraph over and over again. You know which one. I want you back here with me. I want your body and I want the rest of you too. And I want to get the fuck out of this house. Watching June and Nora on TV doing appearances without me is torture. We have this annual thing at my dad’s lake house in Texas. Whole long weekend off the grid. There’s a lake with a pier, and my dad always cooks something fucking amazing. You wanna come? I kind of can’t stop thinking about you all sunburned and pretty sitting out there in the country. It’s the weekend after next. If Shaan can talk to Zahra or somebody about flying you into Austin, we can pick you up from there. Say yes? Yrs, Alex P.S. Allen Ginsberg to Peter Orlovsky—1958: Tho I long for the actual sunlight contact between us I miss you like a home. Shine back honey & think of me.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 243-245). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.

Re: A mass of fools and knaves Henry hwales@kensingtonemail.com                8/10/20 8:22 PM to A Alex, If I’m north, I shudder to think where in God’s name we’re going. I’m ruminating on identity and your question about where a person like me comes from, and as best as I can explain it, here’s a story: Once, there was a young prince who was born in a castle. His mother was a princess scholar, and his father was the most handsome, feared knight in all the land. As a boy, people would bring him everything he could ever dream of wanting. The most beautiful silk clothes, ripe fruit from the orangery. At times, he was so happy, he felt he would never grow tired of being a prince. He came from a long, long line of princes, but never before had there been a prince quite like him: born with his heart on the outside of his body. When he was small, his family would smile and laugh and say he would grow out of it one day. But as he grew, it stayed where it was, red and visible and alive. He didn’t mind it very much, but every day, the family’s fear grew that the people of the kingdom would soon notice and turn their backs on the prince. His grandmother, the queen, lived in a high tower, where she spoke only of the other princes, past and present, who were born whole. Then, the prince’s father, the knight, was struck down in battle. The lance tore open his armor and his body and left him bleeding in the dust. And so, when the queen sent new clothes, armor for the prince to parcel his heart away safe, the prince’s mother did not stop her. For she was afraid, now: afraid of her son’s heart torn open too. So the prince wore it, and for many years, he believed it was right. Until he met the most devastatingly gorgeous peasant boy from a nearby village who said absolutely ghastly things to him that made him feel alive for the first time in years and who turned out to be the most mad sort of sorcerer, one who could conjure up things like gold and vodka shots and apricot tarts out of absolutely nothing, and the prince’s whole life went up in a puff of dazzling purple smoke, and the kingdom said, “I can’t believe we’re all so surprised.” I’m in for the lake house. I must admit, I’m glad you’re getting out of the house. I worry you may burn the thing down. Does this mean I’ll be meeting your father? I miss you. x Henry P.S. This is mortifying and maudlin and, honestly, I hope you forget it as soon as you’ve read it. P.P.S. From Henry James to Hendrik C. Andersen, 1899: May the terrific U.S.A. be meanwhile not a brute to you. I feel in you a confidence, dear Boy–which to show is a joy to me. My hopes and desires and sympathies right heartily and most firmly, go with you. So keep up your heart, and tell me, as it shapes itself, your (inevitably, I imagine, more or less weird) American story. May, at any rate, tutta quella gente be good to you.

McQuiston, Casey. Red, White & Royal Blue: A Novel (pp. 245-247). St. Martin's Publishing Group. Kindle Edition.