#so now i sit here crying over two new releases of books i bought in

[shadsasaur]

losing my mind at this panel of ax being held up for a photo like i make my cats dance [and looking just as thrilled about it]

[collecting-stories]

Saving Grace - JJ Maybank

A/N: A You Are Ok drabble set ten years in the future 

You Are Ok Masterlist | Outer Banks Masterlist

✰ ✰ ✰ ✰ ✰

The Maybank house had sat empty on the cut for almost five years until JJ’s dad was released from prison. You and JJ had been down in Florida at the time, moved out of his cousin’s trailer and living in an apartment in the everglades. Talking about going home but unsure what the OBX had to offer at that point. It was barely two weeks after that when you both flew home, Luke Maybank had overdosed and the house was empty once again.  

It stayed empty while the two of you gutted the entire place and refurbished it. While JJ and you stayed at the Chateau or Kiara’s place, while you found a job and found out you were pregnant, while JJ got a job for himself in the area and went back down to the everglades to empty out the apartment.  

JJ laid the tile in the bathroom himself and fixed the plumbing. You painted the inside and outside of the house, planted a garden, bought a chicken coop. You and JJ moved in to the house and just like that you were back in the OBX.  

-

You sat outside on the porch, drinking a cup of coffee despite the hour nearing eight o’clock at night. The baby monitor was sitting beside you, a soft gurgling coming from the receiver. You were waiting for the familiar sight of JJ’s truck pulling down the long driveway in the dusk. The headlights were already on, flashing on you for a moment as he parked and then cut off, the engine dying.  

“Hey, what’re you doing out here?” He asked, climbing out of the front seat of the car and bringing a bag of chinese food with him.  

“Waiting for you to bring me egg rolls?” You joke, before turning serious, “I saw my dad this morning, at the grocery store.”

“Did he see you?”  

“Yeah...it was, really weird?” You suggested, reaching for the bag. JJ shook his head and held the bag away from you, a silent ‘I’ve got it’ as he leaned in and gave you a kiss. You wrinkled your nose at the familiar smell of fish as you pulled away, “how was work?”

“Alright...” he shrugged, “what did your dad say?”  

“That he wants me to come to church on Sunday.” You replied, following him inside.  

“You wanna go?” It was a question but the way he asked you knew that he already knew the answer.

“I mean...I’m not gonna like, start going to church with them every week and ya know, go back to how I was but...it might be nice. I do miss my family and, I want to have boundaries but maybe they don’t have to be like, huge ten-year silence boundaries where we never speak. I do want Willow to know her cousins; I think. What do you wanna do?” You asked, passing plates across the counter to him.  

A tinny half cry sounded from the monitor on the table and you both turned to look over at it, waiting for a crescendo of cries that you’d grown used to in the last four months. When silence settled back in, you both seemed to exhale in relief. You wanted to eat and finish this conversation before JJ ultimately showered and fell asleep until Willow’s usual one a.m. wake up.  

“Whatever you want.” He replied, never submitting to making the decision for you when you wanted him to. “Not exactly like your family’s a big of me.”

“Can’t imagine why,” you bumped his hip with your own, kissing his cheek. “Not like you totally corrupted their youngest daughter or anything.”

“Oh no, do not blame that on me.”

“I didn’t run away to marry myself.”

“If you go...” JJ posed, turning to follow you to the table, “do you want to go alone?”

-

You stood frozen in place, holding a box of cereal in your hand as you stared across the small expanse of Heyward’s shop, your dad there by the fresh produce, comparing two different apples with each other. The Outer Banks was a small island but you ran in very different circles and, in the three years that you’d been home, had avoided seeing your parents. Or anyone in your family.  

You’d driven passed the baptist church, a sign boasting a new assistant pastor, one of your brothers, when you’d first moved back but hadn’t actually seen anyone. The possibility of seeing them again had been a long debate between you and JJ when you’d finally decided to leave Florida for North Carolina. It had been hard in the very beginning, missing birthdays and anniversaries and new babies, but over time the ache had dulled and you had shifted your attention away from what you were missing and focused on working through the things you could heal in yourself.  

Now you were frozen. If you left your basket of groceries now you could make a beeline for the door and be out before he saw you. But then the bell above the door rattled as a customer came in and the baby swaddled against your chest started to fuss. Before you could attempt to placate her, your dad was looking over. For a moment you were certain he didn’t recognize you. Ten years was a long time. But then his mouth quirked into a frown and he set down the apples he was holding.  

“Ace?” He questioned, the old nickname feeling foreign to you. It’d probably been ten years since anyone called you that.  

“Hey, dad.” You nodded your head at him across the small store. You felt like tacking on a ‘surprise’ for good measure. ‘Surprise, I’m in the OBX, surprise, I got a kid...’

“When did you uh, when did you come home?” He moved across the store to be near you though he refrained from reaching out for a hug. You wondered if a decade had been just as hard on him as it had on you. Cathartic and healthy and freeing but hard. He seemed more mellow, you thought that before he might’ve pulled out a bible and started admonishing you.  

“JJ and I moved back three years ago,” you admitted, slipping his name into the conversation as if to prove a point. “He got a job on a fishing rig.”  

“Will you...would you come to church? We could have lunch afterward. Or you could just be there?” He offered. Ten years hadn’t changed his beliefs at all but it had made him miss you. Not knowing where you were or what you were doing felt like an ache in his chest that never went away. The anger had subsided to sadness and guilt.  

-

Seeing your dad had been startling enough and you had almost wished, while you were standing there in Heyward’s, that JJ could’ve been with you. Though, you weren’t entirely sure that would’ve helped anything in the long run.

“I think my mom would probably be nicer to me if I brought Wills but maybe, I mean, my dad already saw her. He didn’t ask about her but maybe...” you groaned, burying your face in your hands for a moment as you tried to gather your thoughts. “Why didn’t we stay in Florida?”

“Cause we both spent seven years talking about how much we wanted to come back to the OBX...and my dad-”

“Jay.”

“Look. My dad was an asshole okay, he was a fucking nightmare but you know better than anyone that not getting to see him at the end...that was the worst call I’ve ever gotten in my life. Knowing Ricky was the only one up here and that he was alone. You should do whatever you want to do and I’ll be there, right next to you, just like I’ve been for ten years, but I don’t want you to have any regrets.” JJ replied, honestly.  

You nodded, looking down at the plate of food and pushing your fried rice around. You knew that JJ was still hurting, that gutting a house didn’t take away all the memories that were trapped inside. “God I hate when you’re right.” You sighed.  

“Don’t let your dad hear you talk like that.” He teased just as the monitor went off again, this time for real. You leaned against the back of the chair and groaned as JJ stood up. “I got it.”

“No, it’s okay, I’ll get her.” You stood too. “You need a shower, and sleep.”  

“I haven’t seen her all day,” JJ pointed out, following you down the short hallway to the bedroom that used to be his. It was painted in yellows and oranges now, with a crib and a rocking chair and baby books. A sunset mural painted on the wall from Kiara’s girlfriend and a chandelier of stars from Sarah.  

“What are you gonna do, take her in the shower with you?” You joked, lifting the fussing baby up out of her crib, “hey bubba, what’s the matter?”

“You have to feed her right? So feed her in the bathroom.”

“Oh sure, Jay, that’s super comfortable for me. I would love to feed her while I sit on the toilet.” You grumbled, already knowing that you would probably, definitely end up caving to him and doing exactly that.  

“I’ll put dinner away and do the dishes.” He promised, “and I’ll punch you’ll dad if he says anything to piss you off.”

[lollypopsx]

Flatmate!Harry: I’ll Make It Up To You - Part 3

Please like if it’s not too shabby, re-blog for anyone who you think may enjoy this and follow if you want to see more! Any suggestions are happily taken for future writing! I love you all! be safe and be kind x

Part 1 - Part 2 

Word Count: 3.9K 

Warnings: I think slight swearing, One sentence of smutty language. 

A/N-The bold bits are a flashback! 

————————— 

 You were spending your Wednesday afternoon doing housework and cleaning up your apartment. In the last two weeks, you had been helping Harry here and there with writing some songs, but you never wanted to take any credit for his work. You were just happy to help. 

You’d both let the mess pile up a little bit, mainly paper thrown everywhere, scribbled with random lyrics and instrument chords. You had vowed to yourself that you weren’t going to write anymore or get yourself lost in your musical dream world, but Harry always seemed to manage to get you sucked in to help.

You pick up your phone to dial H, letting it ring a few times.

“Y/N? Are you okay? Everything fine?” Harry answers worriedly.

You couldn’t help but chuckle “Everything is fine, I just phoned to see if you needed any of that paper on the piano or if it can be thrown?”

“Erm, maybe just stick it in a pile in my room and I’ll go through and sort it later. What are you doing?”

“I’m cleaning our pigsty of an apartment Haz!” You laugh and smile. 

“Look at you being a wife” He teases and chuckles. 

“Shut up, or you’ll be my next victim! Do you want me to wash your bedding too?”

“Ohhh yes please! You’re an angel!”

“Someone’s got to be” You smile. “And your spare sheets are in the drawer under your bed?” You hold your phone to your ear with your shoulder as you pile the thrown papers together. 

“Yeah I think I- Erm...a-actually I can put the sheets on when I’m home!” He says quickly. You were slightly taken back by the change in his tone. “Are you sure?”

“Y-yeah....yeah I...I forgot I’d bought some new ones a while ago and they’re...they’re still in my car” He fakes a chuckle, although you soon became oblivious to his cover story.

“Did you manage to get those silky black ones?!” You gasp.

“Y-yeah...yeah I did”...fuck. “I gotta go, Jeff’s pestering me to sign some stuff. I’ll see you later”

“Okie dokie, see you later. Text me when you’re leaving the studio and I’ll start dinner.” 

“Thanks babe, laters” He sighs softly and hangs up. “I need to order black silk sheets on Amazon asap...” He groans.

“You still haven’t told her?!” Jeff sighs, his head shaking. “Harry you need to do it sooner or later...”

“I know but she might freak out!” Harry’s brows furrowed as he kicks the floor softly. “Right...let’s keep going” He sighs.

You cleaned the apartment top to toe, and you couldn’t help admit that you did feel much better. It felt cosier than before, and on this particular day, the sun was glowing, warming your skin through the window.

You promised yourself you wouldn’t do this. You promised yourself two weeks ago that you wouldn’t be doing this. You promised yourself that you wouldn’t put your mind back into your past and be sitting writing songs about old feelings and passed experiences. But here you were...

Using the back of the scraps of paper from Harry’s pile, you were spilling out every word that came to mind, like every feeling in your chest was finally released. Your fingers glided across the piano keys flawlessly with the words you had pieced together, falling perfectly from your mouth. The weight being lifted made you wish you had done this months ago.

—————————

“Come on babe, everyone’s already waiting for us at the party...your birthday party which me and all your friends have thrown for you and we’re late!” Your boyfriend Adam teased as he smiled, “You look great” He chuckles as he grabs his jacket. 

“Okay, I’m ready! Let’s go. I can’t believe you guys all managed to book out Club 21 for me!” You grin as you followed him into the taxi towards the club.

“You dropped my hand while dancing, so I left you out there standing...crestfallen on the stage with...champagne problems

You had a cheap ring for it...my picture in your wallet...but my heart was glass and you dropped it...now I have champagne problems” 

The music was pounding as you danced around happily with all your friends on the dance floor. You were having the best night of your life so far. Surrounded by all of yours and Adam’s best friends. You pant as you escape the crowded dance floor and head over to the bar, joining your friend Niall, and your best friend and flat mate Harry, who were both best friends too. 

“Hello birthday girl!” Niall grins and hugs you tightly, kissing your cheek. “It’s not my birthday yet!” You laugh and hug him tightly, then hugging Harry. “Not for another...57 minutes” Harry smiles.

“Have you guys seen Adam? He said he’d get me a drink and I haven’t seen him since!” You say over the music. “I think he’s in the toilet...I’ll go find him. H can get you a drink” Niall pats your back and heads to the men’s toilets.

“Did you tell your family the real reason? Or did you keep it in?...Your mum had splashed out on the bottle...now no ones celebrating”

“Dom  Pérignon, you brought it...but our friends never applauded...your hometown skeptics say it’s...champagne problems”

As Niall strolled into the toilets, he checked his hair in the mirror, noticing a pair of white trainers and red heels in the reflection, hidden behind a cubical door. He smirked and chuckled quietly until he heard “Ohhh fuck, Adam keep going” the female moaned softly. Surely not...there must be plenty of Adam’s in the club. “Mmm I haven’t been able to resist you since I arrived...fuck you’re so tight baby” Adam moaned. It was him. Niall felt the fury cause redness to his cheeks and it took all of his will power not the break the door down and beat Adam to a pulp. He knew where he needed to be most importantly.

His fists were clenched as he left and walked over to the bar “Y/N...” Niall couldn’t help the frown on his lips. You smile as you saw him come back “There you are, was he in there?” 

“Y/N I need to tell you something...” Niall gulped. You couldn’t help but feel like his expression said every word you had been so scared to hear. And he never had to say a word, as you saw Adam stumbling out the men’s bathroom, with an unknown female following out 10 seconds later. You had no words, everything you wanted to say...to scream. You wanted to cry. You wanted to punch something.

 “I’m going to fucking kill him” You heard a mutter from Harry. But you couldn’t react.

“Was it all for the money...or all for the show...I found out that you cheated so I had to go...I always thought I’d know the answer, ‘til you were on your knee and asked me”

You went to storm up to Adam but he was long gone. You had no clue where he had gone...was this it? Was that how he leaves us? As you turn back to Harry and Niall, their eyes were no longer on you, their dark, angry  eyes watching up at the stage. Adam appeared with a wide grin on his face.

“Where’s Y/N?” He calls out. If you hadn’t of just seen him fall out the bathroom with another girl, you would never have believed he could do something so breaking. “Adam...what are you doing?” You mumble, feeling tears in your eyes. Harry and Niall stood close behind you.

“Come up here baby” Adam grins, but before you could even attempt to run away, you were being pulled up onto stage by two of your other friends, who clearly didn’t know what had just happened. 

Was this it? Was he about to break up with you 45 minutes before your birthday...in front of all your friends? You couldn’t think of anything more embarrassing. But oh no, this was much worse.

"I was going to do this in 45 minutes...but unfortunately, one of our friends has to leave the celebrations early for work tomorrow...” Adam smiles brightly at you. You felt sick to your stomach. How could he have the audacity act like he hadn’t just cheated and broken your heart.

You were still in shock. Everything was happening so fast, that you didn’t focus until you realised Adam was on his knee. “Y/N Y/L/N...will you marry me?” He pulls out a small ring, that was clearly not going to fit you. It would definitely cut off your circulation!

The lights were bright in your eyes, as they reflected the tears threatening to spill. But they weren’t the happy tears you always dreamed you’d have at this moment. He pushed the ring up into your hand, silently begging you to take it. You don’t know why...but you held the ring in your hands loosely.

“H-how could you cheat on me...” You whisper, only loud enough for him to hear. You could see the guilt in his eyes as everyone was about to cheer, assuming you’d said yes...but the crowd quickly fell silent as you shook your head, you just wanted to run.

You rushed down the steps at the side of the stage and pushed through the crowd, your legs feeling like jelly as you crashed through the doors and ran...you just ran. The tears finally freed themselves as you let out heavy sobs.

You heard people shouting your name down the street but you couldn’t stop. You were scared to face whatever happened next. You ran and ran until you felt two arms grab you from behind “Hey...shhh c’mere it’s me” As soon as you heard Harry’s hushed tones, you stopped resisiting his grip. You turned into his chest and clutched his shirt, sobbing loudly as you wanted to fall into a pile there and then. His arms protectively tightened around you, his head resting ontop of yours.

“I got you...I’ve always got you. Niall’s getting the car and we’re taking you straight home” 

“...I could of made such a lovely wife...what a shame you fucked up my head... they said “you’ll find the real thing instead...and he’ll patch up the pieces you’ve shred.... and he’ll...hold my hand while dancing...I’ll never leave him standing, crestfallen on the stage with Champagne Problems”

The journey home was painfully silent apart from your sobs. Harry held you closely as Niall drove. “I’ll pop round tomorrow ok...text me if you need anything” Niall says to Harry, pressing a kiss to your forehead before you get out the car. “Thanks Ni” You mumble. “Anytime princess” He gives you a sweet smile before driving home. 

Harry gets you inside, you wipe your soaked cheeks with the back of your hand. You headed straight to the fridge intending to get some water, but instead you found two bottles of champagne which had been sat in the fridge since Christmas.

“Better late than never...” You mutter and take them to the sofa. You popped one open and took a large mouthful from the bottle. Harry brought in a hoodie of his for you, wrapping it around your arms as you suddenly burst into heavy sobs. “Why me?!” You scream into his chest.

“No you’re perfect...he doesn’t deserve you” He whispers, holding you close to him. “You don’t need him. You have me...and Niall”

You whimpered as you took swigs from your bottle very quickly. It tasted awful. But nothing tasted worse than heartbreak.

“Hey Y/N…happy birthday m’darling” he whispers “I’ll make sure you have the best day”

“A cheap ring in your pocket...her picture in your wallet...you won't remember all my...champagne problems

Have you forgotten all my champagne problems?

Now, his mum’s ring in his pocket...my picture in his wallet...he’ll never give me any...champagne problems

He helped to cure all of my champagne problems...”

The next morning, you woke with a heavy head. You found yourself quickly remembering the night before. You sat up slowly, feeling an arm tightly wrapped around your waist. You and Harry had fallen asleep on the sofa...you must have cried yourself to sleep after demolishing one and a half bottles of champagne.

“How are you feeling?” Harry whispers, his hand brushing your hair back gently. You stare at the ring on the table. “I...I don’t know. I never thought this would happen to me...I though this was it.” You mumble sadly. “I thought I was enough” You whisper silently. His heart broke and the ide that you felt you weren’t enough. “You will always be enough...” He frowns and holds you. Kissing your head. He’d never wished more than to have the ability to take someone’s pain away. 

“Y-you...you won’t leave me too will you Harry?” You sniffle, your head resting on his chest.

“Never...I’ll never leave you” He mutters into your hair.

“What if I’m alone forever...what if I can’t heal from this?” You whimper

“You’ll find it. I know you thought you did...but you’ll find the real thing instead, and whoever it is will patch your heart up. And you won’t ever need to leave him” He whispers reassuringly.

————————— 

 You play around with the last two versions of the chorus, completely oblivious to Harry’s presence in the doorway until you heard a small shuffle from that direction

Your head snapped up “Jesus Harry! I didn’t know you would be home yet...You scared the life out of me! What’s wrong?” You frown as you run up to him, throwing your arms up around his shoulders, noticing his furrowed brow and the sad frown on his lips.

“I...that was so beautiful Y/N...and it just reminds me of how much he hurt you...a-and you...y-you’ve grown so much” He whispers softly, his arms tightly wrapping around you. “You never deserve to be treated like that...and I still hear you crying some nights, I just couldn’t face seeing you that way and...and I-I knew you’d kill me if I barged in...” He mutters, his eyes grazing the floor, as you let out a small laugh. “And you wrote a song again...I’m so fucking proud” 

“It’s okay Harry...I’m okay now!” You whisper, holding his cheeks in your hands. “I just needed to do it. One final time, and that’s it now. I’m going to get a proper job and-”

“Y/N I need to talk to you.” Harry cuts you off. “I was planning on having this conversation with you in a much nicer setting...but I don’t think I can wait.”

This was it...you didn’t realise how much you had craved to hear those three words fall from Harry’s mouth after months of trying to convince yourself that you didn’t feel that way.

“I’ve got you a recording contract with me for the new album...I want you on it. It’s been sat under my bed for weeks ready to give to you but I was worried you’d say no-” Harry says nervously.

You almost didn’t realise what he’d said until it was too late and you already started speaking.

“Harry I love you too...I-” You gasp as your hand flies in front of your mouth. No. No. No no no. This was not happening! You had single handedly embarrassed the shit out of your self and ruined the rest of your life. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole and spit you out in Australia.

“W-what?” Harry froze, taken back by the sudden confession. He didn’t know what to say, but to say he was shocked was an understatement.

“What...” You tried to act natural. Wishing to take back the last 5 seconds. “Oh...that’s erm...that would be a good read...you can just slide it under my door and I’ll read it in 3-5 working days.” You mutter quickly. You didn’t  slipping past him, to disappear into your bedroom.

“Y/N...wait!” His hand grabs your wrist “...you love me?” His gaze fell soft into yours. You thought of every excuse to get out of this situation, as scared as you was to admit it...it was out now. 

“Y-yeah...” you whisper, staring into his eyes, praying to make some sense of how he felt towards you. You so badly wanted him to speak, but the silence hanging between the two of you was deafening. You needed to know.

“D-do...do you...Do you love me Harry?” Your voice croaked. 

Of course he did...

“I-I don’t know...” You couldn’t help but feel your heart shatter some more, the sparkle in your eye slowly fading. And at that moment, you know you had ruined the best friendship of your life. You prepared yourself for Harry to leave the room, pack a bag and go to stay at Niall’s. But he just stood there, analysing your face intensely. You began to pull your hand away from his and run quickly.

“No...wait! Y/N I didn’t mean it like that I just...Well you always had Adam...and you’ve always been my best friend...and then when you guys split up, I...I was so angry because I knew I could never do that to you, and I wanted to change that so badly, but I never wanted to my feelings to get in the way of our friendship. I don’t ever want to loose you Y/N...I always thought I just wanted what I can’t have...until I knew I wanted to protect you for the rest of my life...I love you...I’ve always loved you Y/N, I just didn’t want to ruin anything...” He whispers, his bright eyes sparking as the warm sunset glow flooded your apartment.

“H-have I ruined it all....” You whimper softly, feeling your breath getting stuck in your throat.

“Never...” He whispers, one of his hands cupping your cheek, and the other locking into the side of your neck as you felt soft tears slipping down your cheeks. You had never been so terrified of losing someone. But that worry was soon washed away when you felt Harry’s soft pink lips press against yours. Sparks were flying through your blood as you wasted no time kissing him back with every ounce of passion until you couldn’t breath.

Neither of you wanted to beak the kiss...but Harry also didn’t want the pair of you to collapse. He pulled his lips away from yours, pressing his forehead against yours, the both of you panting heavily. 

“I love you so fucking much” He whispers, tears filling his eyes.

—————————

- 3 Months Later -

"Y/N we need to get you downstairs, we don’t have time to get you mic’d up up here, Graham has already started the show, so we’ll mic you up in the wings” A runner knocked on your dressing room.

“Ok I’m ready lets go...” You get up from the chair and check yourself in the mirror quickly. You had a beautiful red dress on, the sleeves hung off the shoulders and there was a slit in the leg of the floor length material. You had sparkly silver heels on, which looked like diamonds when they caught the light. Your hair was curled in a half up, half down style, with your normal glamourous makeup. 

Harry was in the wings waiting, speaking to a few other people as you were getting mic’d up. He was in a red suit, to match the colour of your dress, with a white shirt, his shoes just white this time. He glanced up with a wide grin. “There she is...mmm look at my beauty” He smirks happily and presses a kiss to your lips, holding your hips as a runner was hiding the wire in your dress.

“And you’re on in 3...2...1...” 

“Please welcome Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N!”

Harry took your hand as you followed him onto the set of The Graham Norton Show, the crowd cheering happily as you are greeted with a hug and kiss on the cheek from Graham, returning happily, and sitting down beside Harry after he gave the same greeting.

“Hello hello and welcome! It’s an honour to have you both here tonight on my sofa...although you have both sort of blended in” He chuckles

“Yeah...we didn’t really think about that until we got changed...” Harry chuckles, his hand holding yours tightly as you smile, taking a sip of wine from your glass.

“So we have a lot to talk about tonight...but firstly...congratulations on your new album! It sounds incredible and I know I’m not the only one wondering this, but how did you find working together while being in a relationship? Because your relationship only came into public view after the album was released...Now you two have lived together for...4 years is that right?” Graham asks.

“Yeah so...actually we have been best friends and flat mates for years, we’ve always had such a heavy impact on each others lives but we always both sort of thought it was just friendship. Around a year ago now I went through a really difficult break up and Harry was there every step of the way. Since then I always knew I loved Harry but it wasn’t until just after we had written the first version of Fine Line that I found out he felt the same” Your eyes gleam just talking about it.

“So...you two wrote Fine Line together, was that the first song you wrote for the album?” He looks over at Harry

“Actually, I’d already written Watermelon Sugar, Golden and Adore You. Fine Line was next and I was writing it at home. Naturally every song I write, Y/N is one of the first to hear, whether it’s in the living room, or when she’s in the bath and I sit outside the door to play it. It’s always been that way, even before we got together.”

Graham nods and smiles “You can’t let the poor woman have a bath in peace!” He jokes and teases as you both laugh. “So did you decide to name the album Fine Line because it’s the first song you wrote together?”

“I know!” Harry chuckles “sort of...Fine Line actually came about after...well it was after a prank I tried to pull on Y/N which went horribly wrong, then she finally forgave me and I was talking to her in the kitchen about how I was struggling to write emotional songs at the time. And the words she said to me really stuck...that night I sat at the piano and tried to piece together our conversation in a song. Y/N came to help me and she just...she’s really the saving grace. So I think yeah...maybe that was one of the reasons we called in Fine Line.”

“That’s incredible...and Y/N you were actually going to give up music weren’t you? Thank god you didn’t” Graham smiles.

You blush softly “I was...I just as going through a rough time. I helped Harry with the song and then I said I would quit. Then a couple of weeks later, Harry declared his love for me after he’d told me he had a joint record deal contract for us, to include me in the album” you tease with a smirk.

Harry grins widely and laughs quietly “I think the details of that have been slightly twisted...” He teases as you blush.

“Well I can’t wait to hear that story later! Now are there going to be any more joint albums...?” Graham asks curiously.

“...” You both look between each other “Time will tell Graham” Harry winks.

“Well...we are goin to go to an ad break now, but stay tuned because you don’t want to miss the first ever live performance of Fine Line by Harry Styles and Y/N Y/L/N!”

The crowd cheer loudly as the cameras cut to an ad break.

“I’m not waffling too much right?...it is my first ever proper interview” You mumble slightly as Harry and Graham sat with you in conversation while you were having your makeup touched up.

“You’re doing great baby...everyone loves you. I told you I’d make it all up to you when I stole your clothes and you missed that audition...” He grins cheekily.

“Now that’s a story I definitely need to hear!” Graham laughs along with the audience

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Tag List: @harryhoney-bee - @sunandherflores - @sad-capuccino @beachwood-cafe

[vanillanaps]

Unfaithful | Steve Rogers

Summary - You promised yourself it was the last time you’d see him. The last time you canceled on your boyfriend to meet up with him. The last time you’d lay naked beneath his sheets as he was buried between your thighs, but promised where meant to be broken.

A/n - y’all it’s been so long since I wrote smut, please just bear with me. The ending is also lowkey bad, idk y’all.

Category - Fem!Reader, angst, smut

Warnings - poorly written unprotected sex, arguments, cheating (I do not condone cheating) fluff at the end, I guess?

Word Count - 3.4k

♡♡♡♡

You shouldn’t be here, doing this, with him. It was wrong, it was so wrong and you knew that. Your boyfriend didn’t deserve the pain you’d been putting him through this past year, but you couldn’t help it. The way his calloused, soft hands felt running up and down your naked sides, his plump pink lips trailing kisses from your lips, down to your neck and across your shoulders. Or the way his piercing blue eyes gazed into the souls of yours, reading you like an open book. He was new, exciting and adventurous. The moment you met him, you knew it was something different about him. How he walked, talked and even presented himself. When he made that first move against you and even then you couldn’t resist him, not even when your boyfriend was a few feet away from you.

The presence of a body pulled you from your thoughts as the steam of the hot water pouring from the shower filled your senses, “You alright?”

You nodded softly, pushing away the intrusive thoughts and letting yourself have this moment. Your bottom lip was brought in between your lips at the feeling of those cherry red lips being traced against your steaming skin, “Steve, we can’t. I have to go.”

“I just need you once more before you go.” He whispered to you, his hands resting on your hips while he pressed his front up against your backside, letting you feel his hardness for you all over again. A soft moan escaped your mouth at the touch of his hard shaft flesh against your ass. You weren’t sure why you tried, knowing that each and every time, you’d melt right back into his arms without him doing much convincing.

You turned in his hold, not wanting to loiter for a moment longer, your lips found his. His hands circled around to your back, pulling you close to him. Turning the two of you around, he pushed you up against the cold titled wall, he took the chance of your lips parting with a gasp to slip his tongue in. The kiss grew heated and hands began to travel. Yours around his neck and his down to your thighs to lift you up, wrapping your legs around his waist.

“Steve, please.” You muttered against his mouth, sighing when his shaft brushed against your folds, teasing you tremendously.

“I’ve got you.” He’d answer back. It was true, he always had you.

Your head fell back against the shower wall as he sunk himself into you. His breath shuttering against your neck as your walls squeezed him like no tomorrow, still a throbbing mess from your earlier sessions that you were supposed to be scrubbing off. His grip on your thighs tightened, thrusting up into you. Your moans filled the steamy shower as his heavy cock stretched the walls of your pussy, nails clawing at the nape of his neck while he fucked you endlessly. Steve dipped his neck down, tongue trailing against your breast, trying to bring you the most immense pleasure he could before you left him again. He knew you wouldn’t last long around him, but he figured he’d make you cum once more before you were gone.

“Fuck, please don’t stop!” You moaned, now tucking your head into his neck, trying to pull him impossibly closer to you.

“Gonna cum already?” He asked, not even needing the answer. He knew by the way that sweet cunt of yours tightened, just nearly squeezing the life out of him, “gonna make a mess all over me again?”

You nodded desperately, your back trying to arch, “I’m so close.”

Steve widened his foot stance, repositioned his arms to hook under your knees to spread you wider for him. Picking his pace up, his hips snapped against yours, pelvis brushing up against your clit and his balls slapping up against your ass. He smirked through his groans at the feeling of tightening up around him, “That’s it baby, cum for me.” A cry left your throat as you followed his commands and released all over him, continuing to fuck you through your orgasm til his thrust sputtered to a complete stop and his load shot heavy into you.

If he was being truthful, he didn’t want to let you go. If he had it his way, he’d lay you in his bed and cook you a nice lunch as you slept away the last five orgasms he gave you, but that wasn’t his place. He was there for a fuck and then you’d go home to the man you claimed you loved. But how could you love him when you were here with Steve? How could you love him when you went back home nearly every night with Steve’s cum still leaking out of you. How were you still his?

♡♡♡♡

You felt his eyes burning holes into your back as he watched you dress yourself. Pulling that black dress he bought you down over your hips to wear for another man, “When can I see you again?”

There it was, the question that you knew he’d been itching to ask. Lately, you've been distant with him. Trying to dodge his phone calls and avoid his text, only making it at least two days but then you’d find yourself tangled in his sheets for the next few nights. But tonight was supposed to be different, it had to be. This was the last night you’d spent with him. The last night you’ll put more strains on your relationship for the man that lounged on his bed in nothing but sweats, “I can’t do this anymore.”

You didn’t need to turn around to see him rolling his eyes, you heard it, “You do this bullshit every week. You say you’re done and then I end up right in between your legs. Just stay.”

“Steve, I can’t and you know that!” You avoided his words, knowing the truth behind him.

“Give me one good reason why you can’t?” He questioned, getting up from the bed and following behind you as you collected your belongings.

“Because I love him. He’s my boyfriend and I should be there with him, not you.” You shot back.

Steve scoffed, “You love him, yet you’re here fucking me on your anniversary with him? Oh wow, he’s a lucky guy!”

“Don’t you fucking dare!” You whipped around, pointing a finger in his face, “You knew what this was when we first started! I told you from the beginning what it was going to be and it’s not my fault that you caught feelings! I’m happy where I am!”

“I’m not gonna sit here and act like I don’t see through your facade.” Steve stepped to you, pushing your hand from his face as he slowly backed you into a wall, “You don’t love him, you’re comfortable with him. He’s all you know, your safe place. Someone who will always be there when you crash and burn. You’re scared to let me in because I actually make you feel something. I challenge you, I put excitement into your life and that scares the shit out of you because you think one day it’ll come to an end. That I’ll leave and we’ll never see eachother again.”

“You’re wrong.” You spat, he’s right.

“No, I’m not.” Steve shook his head, his anger fading away. He didn’t want to be angry at you, he wanted you to see the truth. He wanted you to see what good you had standing in front of him and what you could make a life out of, “He bores you. It’s been the same thing since high school. You told me this. You’re keeping yourself in a relationship that’s already over. It’s been over the moment we came in each other’s lives, why can’t you see that?”

“Steve..” You breathed, lip trembling as his words started to hit home. The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you, he only wanted you to see him.

He let his thumb softly wipe away the tear that dared spill over your tear duct, his hand coming to caress your cheek before his fingers slide down to take your chin between them and titling your head up, “Let me be the man that makes you happy. That keeps you feeling young and excited everyday. Let me be the one to tell you that I love you everyday for the rest of our lives.” His eyes searched yours finding them completely conflicted. A small slither of hope filled his chest, this was the furthest he ever got with you in this conversation. His head lowered to place his lip on yours, placing small pecks upon them, “I love you, let me love you.”

For a moment, you took pleasure in the situation. His lips repeatedly pressed against yours in a soft manner as he confessed his love for you. You let yourself have a glimpse at your future with Steve. He was right, he did excite you, challenge you and bring adventure into your life. With Steve, there was no telling where the future might take you. The infatuation you had with him is what kept you coming back to him, but it’s also what kept you an arms length away. Knowing that at any moment, this relationship you’d built with Steve could be taken away. He could start loving someone the same way he started loving you. What if he got bored of you? What if you were only excited because you belonged with somebody else and there was a thrilling edge of being caught when he would be balls deep into you as your boyfriend called. There were too many what if’s. With the man you called yours, you knew it would be forever. That’s why you couldn’t let yourself love Steve Rogers.

“Stop, stop.” You muttered, placing your hand on his chest to push away, “I-I can’t.”

“Don’t do this, please.” He sighed as you slipped from his grip and continued to gather your belongings. His heart was nearly ready to jump out his chest as he watched you walk towards his front door, hand on the knob, “If you leave, then that’s it!” He called, stopping you in your tracks, “I’m tired of being your back up when you aren’t happy with him! It’s been a year and I’m tired of waiting. If you—if you walk out that door, then I’m done! It’s over!” Steve’s chest bounced heavily, nerves running through his body as he watched your frozen stance, but what could he have expected? You didn’t leave your boyfriend then, so why would you leave him now?

“I hope you have a nice life, Steve.” Without even a glance back, you walked out of his apartment and out of his life.

♡♡♡♡

Checking your eyes once more, dabbing away in puffiness in your eyes just before you crossed the threshold of Darren’s apartment, “Babe? Baby, I’m here!” Closing the door behind you, setting your keys and purse on the entry table, “I’m sorry I’m late! Traffic was crazy.” You lied smoothly, turning the corner to see your boyfriend sitting at the opposite end of the dining room table, hands folded in his lap, candles burned down to the middle and food that had looked like it had been sitting for a while, “What’s all this?”

“Well, I had a dinner planned for our anniversary.” He spoke, getting up from his chair to make his way over to you, “But clearly you had better things to do.”

You were taken back by his words. There had never been a time that Darren had spoken to you with that kind of tone, but then again, there had never been a time you’d been late for an anniversary dinner, “Darren, there was traffic. What did you want me to do? Tell them to hurry up? Run through it?”

“Yeah, well that excuse would be valid if it didn't take you nearly three hours to get here when you only live twenty minutes away.” He moved around you, blowing the candles out.

“Okay, baby wait.” You sighed, grabbing his hand to stop him from clearing the table, “I woke up from my nap late and was just completely off schedule and you know how much I hate when you comment on my time management.” Darren stopped letting you pull him towards you, “I’m sorry, okay? I’ll make it up to you. I’m here now so let’s just warm the food up and enjoy it, yeah?”

He looked down to your pleading eyes before giving you a small nod, “Okay.”

“Okay, good. I’ll go warm up the food and meet you on the couch.” Placing a small kiss on his cheek, you grabbed the plates of food and made your way to the kitchen. A breath of relief came from you as you loaded a plate into the microwave. You knew that you’d be late, but being three hours late and using traffic as your excuse nearly blew your cover. You knew you couldn’t keep doing this to him, which is why you ended it with Steve. Darren had been nothing but good to you and you were doing him wrong in the worst way because only did to fuck another man, but you fell in love with him.

The night was slow and awkward. You tried to converse, ask him about his day, how work was, and what his plans were but all you got back was ‘it was okay’, ‘it was work’, and ‘probably nothing’. You slightly frowned at his responses, but it wasn’t like he didn’t have a right to be upset. Deciding to make it up to him, you set your plates down and crawled into his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck as you kissed him slowly, “I’m sorry.” You muttered against his lips. At first, you’d thought he’d forgiven you when his hands came to your waist, but it was to only push you away, “What’s wrong?”

Darren sighed, letting his head fall back against the couch staring up at the ceiling, “...You still smell like him.”

You faltered, pulling away slightly, “Wh-what?”

He brought his hands up, rubbing them over his face, “Usually when you come back from being with him, it’s faint. No matter how much you try to scrub him off you, I assume it’s because the two of you shower together, but it’s like today you didn’t even try.”

“You knew?” You questioned. Since when? For how long? Why is he just now saying something? Had he known each and every time you’d come from Steve’s apartment? Did he know the few times Steve came to your apartment?

Darren scoffed, slowly sliding you off his lap, getting up from the couch, “Is that all you have to say to me? If I knew? Of course I knew! My girlfriend is out there getting fucked by another man and you think I didn’t know? All the late night calls and text messages. When you're ‘working overtime’. Being too sick to come see me, but in reality, you’re with somebody else. Coming here with missing panties, yeah I’ve noticed! All these new clothes that you can’t fucking afford because you make minimum wage and can barely pay rent for that apartment you have!” He raged, pacing the living room back and forth, “Then you come in here, three hours late on our fucking anniversary, smelling like him! You fucked him. You fucked somebody else on a day we were supposed to celebrate our relationship!”

“I'm sorry! I broke it off with him! It’s done! I’ll never see him again!” You tried to reason, tears threatening to spill, getting up from the couch as you made your way towards him, trying to take his hands into yours to keep him from pacing, but he only snatched his away, “Darren, please! I swear it’s over!”

He stopped his pacing, his breath deepening as he tried to calm himself, “How long have you been seeing him?”

You gulped figuring that you lied and hurt him enough. He didn’t deserve what you put him through, you’re causing him nothing but pain, “A year.”

He scoffed, shaking his head, “A year. A fucking ye—“ He paused, eyes finding yours and looking into what felt like the depths of your soul, “Do you love him?”

Your heart dropped, mouth running dry, “Darren, don’t make me answer that.”

He took a step closer to you, “Do. You. Love. Him?”

Tears finally fell, wetting your cheeks as you nodded.

“Get out.” He started, you went to testify but he just shut you down, “I don’t want to hear anymore of your excuses. Just—leave! Go! I don’t wanna see you ever again!” You watched as he stomped around the apartment before finally getting to the single bedroom, the door slamming shut behind him.

This is what you deserved. You didn’t have a right to cry, to be upset for him kicking you out. You had sealed your fate months ago when you first stepped out on him with Steve. You sealed your fate once you continued to sleep with Steve even after you had fallen in love with him and now, you’d lost both of them.

♡♡♡♡

The days passed slowly as you fell in a rut. How did you allow yourself to end up here? Alone, sad and broken. The two most important people no longer in your life. Both had been completely fed up with your shit and could you blame them for it? No. If you were being truthful, you would’ve done the same. If you were Darren, you would’ve left him the moment you knew. If you were Steve, you wouldn’t allow him to string you along as far as you did to him. God, were you a bitch. But a bitch who couldn’t help what she felt.

The days didn’t slow because Darren wasn’t in your life anymore. You could live without the schedule days that had been the same since you met Darren. There was no change, the excitement started and ended in highschool, but you stayed for your own selfish reasons that had now turned its back on you. It had left you cold and alone in the world, with no one to turn to, not even friends. They’d left you behind to go travel the world once college was over while you chose to settle down with the man that had no true desire for the adventures of life. He still didn’t deserve what you did.

But then there was Steve Rogers. The man you had gotten so easily infatuated with in so little time. You were at his beck and call, more of him crawling to you as you kept him on a string. Again, for your own selfish reasons. Steve’s life scared you. His days weren’t planned to a T, he didn’t schedule out breakfast, lunch and dinner. There wasn't any planned bedroom time and the sex was far from vanilla. Steve was wild, reckless and carefree while still being wholesome and loving all in one. You knew what your heart wanted. Back then, you were scared to follow it. But now, after having a taste of loosing it all, you said fuck it. You’d dive headfirst into this if you had to, if you even still had the chance to.

Your mind ran a mile a minute as your legs carried you into the apartment building and up the familiar staircase you had been through so many times before. Flashbacks of you being pressed against almost every inch of these walls at least once by him as the two of you could barely make it to his apartment on the third floor. A soft smile at the memory as you came face to face with his front door. Taking a deep breath and raising your fist, knocking against the tall wood.

Moments passed before the door swung open, your eyes meeting those stunning baby blue ones that you didn’t realize you missed so much, “Hi.”

“Hey.” Steve responded, leaning his body against the doorframe. The silence took over for a moment before he spoke up again, “I’m guessing you two..?”

You nodded, “Yeah, we did. You were right.”

A soft sigh escaped his lips as he stood straight, motioning towards him. Relief ran through your body as you allowed yourself to be buried into his chest, inhaling his intoxicating scent. The smallest of smiles curled into your lips as you felt his press against your temple, his arms wrapping around you tighter for a moment longer, before he guided you into his apartment.

This was the start of new beginnings.

[cocochannel00]

Things that Husband!Harry would definitely do (a thread)

(If you don’t think that Tiny Desk Harry doesn’t give off mad husband!harry vibes - he looks so fluffy- then we can’t be friends)

- He’d sneak into your room the night before the wedding because he missed you even though he knows its bad luck and when you’re mad at him for it he would just smile and place a kiss on your forehead and say “I don’t need any luck, I just need you”

- At your wedding reception he would walk around the room introducing you to everyone as “my wife” as if they didn’t already know who you were 

- During your wedding dinner he’d spend the whole night whispering dirty jokes in your ear trying to make you laugh because he knew that even though it was your wedding day you were still spooked by all of the attention

- On your first year anniversary Harry wanted to surprise you by making you breakfast in bed so he started making pancakes as you slept. You woke up to the sound of your fire alarm going off and Harry blowing the smoke off a pan with a pillow. He’d give you a sheepish smile before mumbling a “maybe we get takeout this year?”

- During the holidays he’d hang mistletoe all around your house and force you to kiss him at every one. “Look love it’s mistletoe, you know what that means” he’d state with a grin. “Harry I just kissed you literally 2 minutes ago in the other room” you’d grumble “Doesn’t matter love, it’s mistletoe and those are the rules. Now come here and kiss your husband”

- Anytime the two of you would get into any sort of major fight where you would say “I hate you” he would shoot back “Well I love you so I guess you’re stuck with me” before going to sulk on the couch

- Whenever you went to his shows or stayed with him on tour he would force you to sit back stage and watch him from the wings so he could watch your reaction to his corny jokes and steal a kiss from you in between sets and on his bathroom breaks

- You agreed to be the designated drive for your group for a night out so Harry gets drunk and becomes extra clingy. He spends the entire night stuck to your side, shoving his face in your neck whispering “I’m going to marry you one day” to which you’d remind him quietly that you were already married. He’d then nod thoughtfully and mumbled “Well then I’m going to marry you again just in case” 

- One night you would be tossing and turning in bed unable to sleep and you would accidentally wake up Harry. You’d apologies because you knew he had to wake up early the next day, but he would just shush you with a quick peck before repositioning you so that you could lay your head on his chest. He’d then softly start humming the tune to one of the new songs he was working on until you’d fall asleep

- Harry would convince you that he was capable of building the Ikea coat rack the two of you had bought for your new home on his own so you’d go into the room next door to take a nap. When you woke up and hour later you found him laying on the floor facetiming Mitch as he tried to figure out why the last piece wasn’t fitting properly only for you to look at it and realize he had built half of it backwards

- Harry would come home late from one his movie shoots and would mumble a quick hello as he walked in through the door. You’d be sitting on the couch watching and episode of Dateline and he would throw himself next to you and lay his head on your lap. You’d start running your hands through his hair as you finished watching the last couple of minutes of the episode before asking Harry how his day was only to realize he had passed out on your lap and was now quietly snoring, a small trail of drool slowly coming out of his mouth

- The next season of your favorite show Handmaid’s Tale had come out so you and Harry started watching it. Every five minutes Harry would ask you a question about the show until mid way through you looked at him and bursted out “Harry if you ask me one more question about the show I’m sending you to our room”. Harry would pout at you and sink into the couch, grumbling about how it wasn’t his fault he couldn’t remember what happened last season before he shoved some popcorn into his mouth

- You’d need to go shopping at Target one day to get some decorations for your niece's birthday party and Harry would decide to come along. “This is our list Harry, we’re not buying anything that’s not on the list” you’d say in the car before getting out, but it would be hopeless because every other aisle Harry would pick something up and say “babe we need to get this” and you would stare at him and say “is it on the list?” and he would grumble a no before sulking back down the aisle to put it back

- On road trips when he let you pick the music he would grumble when you would change the song every 30 seconds. “Love just choose a song, it’s not that difficult, gave you the bloody playlist” he’d state as you would continue to skip through the songs mumbling “I’m tired of that song though, just wanted to hear the chorus”. “Is that what you do with my songs too, just skip all the good parts to get to the bloody chorus?” he’d ask mockingly as you gave him a sheepish smile and mumbled a “sometimes” before finally picking a song

- It would be nearly 4 am and you would still be awake reading your book in bed as Harry slept soundly next to you. You could feel the tears running down your face as the main character just had their heartbroken and a soft sniffle left your nose which caused Harry to startle awake. “Babe what time is it?” he’d mumble as you continue reading, paying him no mind. He’d turn on his phone and groan as he saw the 4 flash at him before turning to see the tears on your face. “Oh no love did she get her heartbroken again? Sure they’ll get back together by the end” he’d state, knowing this was your third rom-com book of the month. You’d mumble a yes as Harry gently dog eared the page before you could protest. He turned off your lamp before tucking you into his side, pulling the covers up to your chin, letting you crying into his chest over your fictional characters

- You and Harry going to your 15th high school reunion together and he gets jealous when he sees you talking to your ex-boyfriend from when you were 16. He’d come up behind you and wrap an arm around your waist while placing a kiss to the side of your temple before reaching out his free hand to introduce himself. “Hello I’m Harry. The Husband” he’d say as he shook your ex’s hand just a little tighter then necessary

- Harry would be overly invested in your work place gossip so when the two of you would have dinner together he would constantly ask questions about what happened with your coworkers that day. “So did Stacy and Justin get caught yet or does Janet still have no idea? Did Kathleen ever get that promotion? If I ever see Garrett I’m going to punch him”

-  He’d force you to wake up early with him so the two of you could workout together in your home gym, but you’d just sit on the floor against the mirror in your workout clothes staring at him. After several attempts at trying to get you to stretch with him he’d give up and say “If you’re not gonna workout at least give me some motivation babe” so he’d do his abs workout in front of you and every time he came up from a sit-up you’d give him a kiss

- Harry would come down with a cold and he would turn into a 5 year old boy and try to milk it for everything it’s worth. “Think the doctor mentioned that cuddles would really help with my headache, love.” “Harry I don’t think that’s what the doctor said” you’d reply as you placed a cold wash cloth on his forehead. “Don’t think I would have forgotten such an important order from her. Now, come here I want to cuddle my wife” 

- He’d come home from the studio fidgeting with his beat-up blue iPod in his hand as you were finishing up a quick dinner for the two of you. He would gently place the iPod on the counter next to you as he poured himself a drink to calm his nerves. You’d stare at it for a minute before asking “Is it finished? Can I listen?”. He’d nod before you gave him a quick kiss and took the device to the living room, leaving him there with his thoughts. An hour later you came back into the kitchen, tears streaming down your face as you ran up to hug him. “Liked it?” he’d ask nervously, this being the first time you’d heard the finished album. “Absolutely loved it” you’d whisper back causing Harry to release a deep breath before taking your face in his hands and kissing you roughly

- He’d start every award acceptance speech with “I’d like to first thank my wife for always supporting me” and then try to catch your eye in the crowd, giving you a soft smile that was only meant for you before going on to thank everyone else

- “We need an intervention Harry. Why are your suits in my side of the closet?” you asked as you came down stairs with one of Harry’s Gucci suits. “I was running out of space and I didn’t think you would notice” he replied with a blush. “Well I did so either you move them or I’m throwing them out” “Love but they’re Gucci you can’t just-” “Ah ah ah I don’t care. My side of the closet” you’d state before dropping the suit in his lap and walking back upstairs

So many others come to mind but these are just a couple that came to mind. I’ll probably do a Dad!Harry version at some point as well 

[dailydaydreamings]

Best in the Worst Way, Chapter 14

The Reader has been having a love affair with two Avengers and gets caught in a sticky situation. She’s suddenly faced with life decisions she’s not prepared for, including who to love, what she wants, and is this all worth it?

Okay okay, warning. This one got away from me (18+). Also, as always, I outdid myself on the swearing. It’s a little shorter, but for a reason. Thank you to all the responses! Enjoy this part :)

You have this memory in your head.

You’re not sure when it happened, it must have been early in your relationship though, because Steve and Bucky weren’t living with you yet.

The morning starts off so beautifully slow. Dawn breaks and your room fills with soft light. It was one of the few mornings you didn’t have to set an alarm.

You wake to feel slow, sloppy kisses up your naked back. You moan, curling back against Bucky. You feel the slow prodding of Steve’s fingers as he teases you awake.

You moan again, still not sure if you’re dreaming. “Good morning.”

Bucky grinds himself against your rear. You can feel Steve sliding himself over your entrance. You gasp, clutching at the sheets, desperation hitting you hard and fast. It doesn’t matter they kept you up all night. You wanted them both now.

“Please,” you murmur, leaning forward to wrap a leg around Steve. “Oh, please, please, please.”

Bucky’s stubble tickles that sensitive spot on your neck and you jerk backwards into his embrace. “So polite in the morning,” he bites at your ear. “But not very specific. Use your words baby, please what?”

His hands slide up to grasp your breasts. Steve moans in front of you, gripping your hips, but still not giving you what you want. Your hips buck faster, more erratically, hoping he can just slip in.

“Stop it, Steve,” Bucky grunts.

Steve practically whines but does as he’s told.

“No,” you keep moving on him, desperate now for some friction. “Please.”

“Please, what?” Bucky’s tongue licks the inside of your ear.

“Please,” your eyes roll to the back of your head. “Please fuck me.”

Bucky chuckles darkly, tweaking a nipple, “How should we fuck you, hm?”

You bit your lip, “I want both of you. To fuck me, just like this.”

Bucky bite on your ear lobe, “All you had to do was ask, baby.” And with almost no warning, he, already lubed, slides into you from behind.

“Oh!” You gasp, needing a second to adjust to the suddenness.

Steve leans forward, sucking on that spot to help you relax. In half a second you’re moaning and begging for more again. Steve grabs your leg, wrapping it around himself and enters you slower, more gently.

You moan deeply, your head falling back against Bucky’s shoulder.

“How does she feel, Steve?” Bucky asks, his hand stroking up and down your side.

Steve only moans in response. The sound causing you to drag your nails down his back. You reach back to grip the back of Bucky’s neck, withering between them. Steve sets the pace, grinding into you, sending you back into Bucky, who pushes you forward again.

Steve’s mouth comes down to your neck and that’s it, you’re release rockets through you thanks to the extreme pleasure of the two of them inside of you.

Their lazy, morning pace continues. They get two more out of you before the three of you are left gasping, clutching to each other for air. You could die right now, right here, and you would be perfectly happy, you realize.

Steve kisses the top of your head as he rolls away, asking if you want pancakes or French toast. Bucky kisses your cheek, saying he’s going to run out to your favourite coffee shop.

The rest of the day was just as perfect. You eat breakfast, you drag the boys to the beach. Bucky refuses to go in the water and Steve gets a wicked sunburn, but they fall asleep tangled together in the sand while you read your book. It starts to rain at some point, just misting. It wakes them up and as you reach the boardwalk, it starts to pour.

You take cover in an ice cream shop, with the most ridiculous flavours. Between the three of you, nearly all of them were tried much to the dismay of the shop owner, but then you each bought a giant cone.

The rain didn’t let up, and the air conditioning plus your wet clothing made it unbearable after a while. You make a break for the car and Bucky blasts the heat, while you sit there waiting for the rain to stop.

You head home, have dinner, and someone mentions that there’s a late showing of a new movie, you’ll make it if you leave now. You run to the car, and miss the previews, but you sit between your boys, happy as can be. Even if the three of you fell asleep and had to be woken up the usher when it was over.

It was one of the happiest days of your life. There was no work, no missions, no stress. Just the three of you. You could just be.

It is a moment you search for when things feel impossible. When you want to throw something at Steve. When Bucky forgets something and you feel like you’re losing parts of him. The perfect day. Even with the sunburns, the sand caking your bodies, the wet clothes in your car, the wasted movie ticket. None of it mattered, except for the people around you. Because it was also the day you realized you loved them.

It’s what you remind yourself of as you drive to the hospital as another contraction hits. Your stomach tightens painfully and your whole body goes rigid.

You cry out, your hand grasping the arm rest with a death grip. The pain would be worth it. The babies would be here soon. It’ll all be fine. Totally fucking fine. But holy fuck it hurt.

“Can you go any fucking slower?” You look over at Bucky. He, for the record, looks about ready to pass out but is still in better shape than Steve.

“I swear this is the only day ever there is traffic,” Bucky mumbles. He wasn’t wrong, the drive normally took less than twenty minutes. They’d already been driving for thirty.

Steve rubs your shoulders from the backseat, “Isn’t there that festival downtown today?”

You turn in your seat, swatting Steve’s hands away, “That would have been helpful before we left, you—”

You cut yourself off as another contraction hits. You brace your hands against the door. Holy shit this hurt.

“They’re really close together,” Steve mumbles.

“Thank you for your fucking observation,” you pant. Holy shit they were. Your head lulls back against the seat. You just needed a moment, just one second to breathe. Please.

Bucky’s hand comes to pet your leg, “You’re doing great, baby. Almost there.”

“I’m never fucking doing this again,” you mumble, wanting to curl into a ball as you can already feel another one coming.

You expected the pain, but this was too much too fast. There was no time to adjust. No break between contractions.

“I feel like I need to push,” you gasped as the last one finished. There was a new pressure. You’d always wondered what women meant when they said they needed to push and this was it.

“It’s way too early,” Steve rubs your shoulders again. “You’re hours away.”

You barely manage a moan, reaching back to grab his hand, desperate for some contact now. “I’m not joking. I really feel like I need to push.”

Bucky shot you a look, “We’re two minutes out. You’re not having these babies in the car.”

You groan. The longest two minutes of your life later, you’re pulling up. Steve is out, calling for a wheelchair before helping you to your feet. You lean against him, pressing your face into the crook of his neck.

A nurse comes running out, helping you into your chair, “How are we doing, mama?” She asks.

You shake your head, bracing yourself through another contraction. When it eases, you gasp, “I feel like I need to push.”

She shoots Steve a look, “How long has she been in labour?”

“About an hour and a half?” They’d guesstimated it. Your contractions really hadn’t been painful or consistent until you started dinner.

She shakes her head, starting to wheel you inside, “You’ve got hours to go before that, don’t worry hon.”

You grip the arm rests like a vice. You were not going to be able to handle hours more of this. If this wasn’t time to push, you weren’t looking forward to what it was going to feel like. The pressure was insane.

Bucky jogged up beside you as you were wheeled up to admitting.

“Are you the father?” The nurse asks.

“Yes.” Both boys answer in unison.

She looks up in surprise, but waves you all in. They help you into a gown, into bed.

Dr Lawrence waltzes in, “I was not hoping to see you three for a couple more weeks. How are you, y/n?”

Not well. The pressure you were feeling was becoming unbearable. You grasp the sheets, your teeth clench together as you grind out, “I’m telling you all, I need to push.”

Dr Lawrence shakes her head, “You have hours to go. I was going to have my student do your first look, is that okay?”

“Fuck, fine,” you cover your eyes with your hand. “I want an epidural. And soon.”

Dr Lawrence shakes her head, “We’ll let you labour for a while. It’ll only slow things down now.”

“Oh fuck me,” you murmur, pressing a hand to you eyes.

Bucky kisses the top of your head, “You’re doing great.”

Steve squeezes your other hand, “We just want what’s best, baby, it’ll be over before you know it.” You wanted to smack him in the face. No, the groin.

You life your legs into the stirrups as the student takes a look. You feel some pressure as they check your dilation and then, “Um, Dr Lawrence...”

Your head shoots up, “What’s wrong?”

Steve and Bucky are on either side of you, their hands tighten on yours.

Dr Lawrence practically shoved the student out of the way, “Let me see...” Her eyes widen, “Oh, you do need to push.”

You straighten, “What?”

She looks up at you from between your legs, “You’re ten centimetres dilated. I can see the first baby’s head. It’s coming right now.”

You frantically look between your boys, terror rocketing through you, “I want the epidural. Now.”

Dr Lawrence shakes her head, “oh, it’s too late for that now.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

Bucky squeezes your hand, “You’ll be fine, baby.”

Steve leans forward to kiss your forehead, “You’ve got this, baby.”

“Oh the next contraction, you need to push,” Dr Lawrence commands.

Well fuck.

And you push. And push. And push.

You fall back against the bed. Gasping. Your whole body on fire.

“One more push!”

You wanted to shake your head, to turn away and cry. But the contraction built up and you screamed as you pushed. Hard.

And then the first baby is out. You grasp your boys hands to your chest as you wait for a cry. It’s too early, it’s only thirty-two weeks. You know that they might not cry, they might go straight to the ICU, but—

A wail fills the room.

You let go of their hands, desperately reaching for your baby.

“It’s a boy!” Dr Lawrence places the baby against your chest.

“Oh,” you gasp. “Hello.”

Your perfect, perfect baby boy. Who is still crying, but you wrap your arms around him, holding him close.

“Oh my god,” Bucky mumbles, reaching out to touch his cheek. His perfect little cheek.

Steve kisses the top of your head, “Good job, baby.”

You can’t keep your eyes off of him, you can feel your whole body trembling. The whole ordeal isn’t over, but he’s so perfect.

“I love you so much, Henry,” you murmur, as the nurse reaches out to take him from your arms.

“Okay, good job, y/n,” Dr Lawrence says, “One more to go.”

And you push. And push.

Nothing happens. This is harder than the first time. You collapse backward, gasping for air.

“Can we get some oxygen for her please,” Dr Lawrence’s voice cuts through the room, and a mask is fitted over your nose. “Okay, one more push.”

You push again. And again. And again. You flop against the bed. Your head is spinning, and no baby yet.

“Come on, one more push,” Steve kisses the top of your head.

You can only shake your head, you can’t even tell him you can’t. You can’t do this. Your body is failing you. The ones thing it is supposed to do, you can’t do.

“Damn it, prepare for a c-section,” Dr Lawrence calls out.

“What?” You hear Steve gasp.

“The last baby isn’t coming,” Dr Lawrence’s voice is beginning to sound very far away. “Y/n stats are dropping and so is the baby’s. We need to get the baby out now.”

Tags

@booktease21 @sexyvixen7 @just-the-hiddles @fading-mentality-bouquet @a--1--1--3 @broco8 @yougottalovefandoms @hailqueenconquer @tazzi-baby @imaginebeinlovedbyme @amiets2 @prettyblueskylark @spookyparadisesheep @bloodbrink @holl2712 @navs-bhat @animegirlgeeky @fanofalltheficsx @obsssedwithjustaboutanything

[pillowbelphs]

Can you Please Just Hold me? - Lucifer, Satan, Diavolo

genre: fluff

word count: all of them are between 360-380 words

@skatingempress​ asked: Prompt #16 with Satan and/or Lucifer? 🥺

@obeyme-arkham​ asked: Hii! So I have a bunch of ideas and I hope your ready for them! So can I get prompt numbers 15 and 16 with Diavolo? So he found out that MC doesn't have a good relationship with their father, and he is determined to be the one that they never had. Lol I've always saw dia as a father figure so if its weird for you, you don't have to do it. And also I'm putting my requests from anyone onto a masterlist and if your not okay with that lmk 🙂

Prompts 15.”“I’m right here.” and prompt 16, “Can you just please hold me?”  from this list

author’s note: since there were multiple requests for this prompt, i’ve decided to merge them all together in a sort of reaction-type post, i hope that’s okay! and for diabolo’s i made sure to use both prompts asked for from the prompt list!

if you have any more requests, don’t hesitate to ask!

xoxo moon

Lucifer;

- it had been a long day at R.A.D, and everything seemed to be going wrong

- you tripped up the stairs, dropping all of your books and securing you a seat in detention

- you had forgotten your lunch or beel had eaten it without you noticing, and you hadn’t brought any money with you

- and to top it off, it seemed as if everyone was giving you an attitude today

- you were honestly so exhausted by the time you got home, you didn’t even want to head to lucifer’s office; just straight to bed

- you ended up going into his office anyway, sitting down on the couch he had an closing your eyes.

- “how’s my rebel?”

- “oh, so you heard about my detention?”

- “mammon was having a fit about it on the way home, he nearly popped a blood vessel from laughing.”

- “I don’t want to talk about it”

- lucifer did not dare to press any further, sensing that you were not in the mood to discuss much of anything

- for a while, the sound of his pen signing documents was all that could be heard coming from his office

- you shifted on the couch a few times, not being able to get comfy

- of course, this captured his attention

- “are you alright?”

- “how much paperwork do you have left?”

- lucifer looked at his desk; it was only a small stack, it shouldn’t take him more than an hour to finish.

- “only a little bit.”

- after he had finishes the paperwork, he got up from his desk

- you thought he was coming towards you, but instead, he walked right passed you and out the door

- you groaned, wanting nothing more than your boyfriends attention soon he came back in, and before he could sit back down, you stood up and blocked his way

- you were clearly exasperated

- “what’s the matter?”

- “can you please just hold me?”

- lucifer smiled softly, pulling you into his arms without a second thought

- “it’s quite late…” he said, “and you still haven’t done any homework”

- you groaned into his chest

- he pet your hair softly

- “but…since i just made up our bed for you,  i suppose we can turn in now and do it in the morning, hm?”

Satan;

- you hadn’t been able to sleep at all for the past week

- with your room next to levi’s, and a new multiplayer game being just released, all you heard every night was him screaming through his headset to his teammates

- which , in all honesty, didn’t really bother you

- except for the fact that mammon’s room was on the other side

- mammon had bought a new projector and had decided to start watching action movies at midnight every night

- you were stuck between a rock and a hard place, and it left you highly irritated every morning

- it was the weekend, and you had the option to sleep in

- and yet, because it was the weekend

- it meant that the aforementioned two demons were partaking in their hobbies all hours of the day

- leaving you yet again with no chance to sleep

- after hours of trying, you decided to make the walk to your boyfriends room

- would books be all over his bed? probably

- did you care that you would most likely be sleeping atop the A,D and G issues of the encyclopedia? not at all

- you knocked on his door softly, the sounds from down the hallway already fading from your ears

- “come in” he hummed

- you opened the door to see him sitting on his bed, with a book in his hand

- he smiled at you softly, placing his book on his side table 

- his smile soon dropped, though, as he saw the dark circles underneath your eyes

- “are you okay my love?”

- “i’m exhausted,” you said, falling into his embrace as he stroked your hair gently

- “it is mammon?”

- “and levi,” you said, now wrapping your arms around him, “i haven’t slept in days”

- without a second thought, he wiped the books from his bed a true gentleman and helped you lay down

- he even fluffed his pillow for you

- “is there anything you need?”

-“would you please just..hold me?”

- he smiled, nodding softly as he crawled into bed with you and wrapped his arms around you, placing a kiss on top of your forehead

- it was the first time in weeks you had gotten sleep, and it was the best sleep you had had in years.

Diavolo;

- You had quickly formed a relationship with Diavolo

- your whole entire life, you lacked a strong fatherly figure to help and take care of you and baby you when needed

- this changed though, once you came down to the Devildom

- like most kids do when their parents are teachers in their school, you found yourself waltzing down to his office

- even during classes, usually excusing yourself for a bathroom break

- and he never stopped you

- usually inviting you to stay for tea, and even reprimanding teachers who raised a question when they saw that you stopped returning to class after leaving

- during your visits to his castle, you even had a designated spot on the couch

- Barbatos knew the way you liked your tea like the back of his hand

- one day, you had been at his home, watching a movie

- when a scene with a child and their father came on

- you began tearing softly, wiping the tears away and hoping that diavolo didn’t notice

- but, of course, he did

- “(y/n), why are you crying? would you like to turn off the movie?”

- he sat next to you, resting his arm around your shoulders

- which made you start crying even more

- you felt comfortable around diavolo, which made you open up about everything

- you never had a strong relationship with your father, often having to navigate the world on your own and without a guiding hand

- hearing this broke diavolos heart

- he squeezed you shoulders

- “hey, I’m right here.”

- which, in turn, made you cry harder

- though he usually felt too flustered watching people cry, and would start freaking out and feeling unsure of what to do

- he knew you needed someone

- and he wasn’t going to leave your side

- “is there anything you need? some tea maybe? i can call barb—“

- “can you please just hold me?”

- the sad, lonely look in your eyes made his heart ache

- he nodded, squeezing your shoulder and pulling you into him without a second thought

- letting you cry into his collar bone

- he’ll have this shirt dry cleaned anyway

- the whole time you were crying, he was whispering affirming things into your ear

- “i’ll protect you from now on, okay, (y/n)? you’re not alone anymore.”

[numptypylon]

Epilogue

I added a short epilogue to Reunion and Intersection today, but I also wrote a much longer one, full of fluffy comfort, to get through the angst-writing in the first two chapters. It’s unedited, unfinished and ridiculously self-indulgent, and I don’t think it really goes with the story, so I elected to not post it, but I’m attaching it here, under the cut, for those interested. Keep in mind it’s a reject for a reason though; this is what my writing looks like in the explorative phase where I’m looking for the point, and in this case I didn’t really find it XD

~2K under the readmore

Callum got there early. A lot of people eyed him warily, but a letter from Queen Janai was a good smoother-of-grumpy-elf-tempers.

No-one had seen Rayla, so… she was probably not here yet.

He went to the inn, bought a large room, lit a roaring fire in there, activating the Sunfire rock he used to keep warm at night under the covers of the bed, and calling for the tub to be filled. It had the usual Skywing heating arrangement, only needing a good Fulminis to heat the water.

He resisted flying out to find her. He risked missing her again, and her leaving town before he got back.

It was about… hitting the point of intersection.

So, he waited at the city gates. He didn’t have to wait nearly as long as he expected, considering the distance she would have had to traverse. Maybe she had recovered and had travelled faster than he thought.

It was definitely her though. A small, lone figure on the mountainside.

He intended to wait for her until she got to him, but then she stopped to lean against a tree and he realized that she had not recovered and was up there sick in the snow… and that resolve evaporated like it had never been.

Like he would ever let her struggle alone a moment longer than she needed to.

 **

 It was a measure of her exhaustion that she didn’t notice him until he was basically right in front of her, and even then, her reaction was so much slower than usual.

It still… it was hard to believe it was real. For her too, surely more so.

He numbly pulled his scarf off, packing it around her neck and head. He grazed her cheek and felt it and she felt it and… she felt it, because the tears that had built up in her eyes spilled over at his touch, slipping down her dirty and flushed cheeks.

She looked ready to drop, and felt it too, when he put his arms around her and her disbelief gave way to relief. Whatever ridiculous level of stubbornness had kept her upright for the last day and night of walking through snow and up mountains when she should have been in bed… fell away and she slumped almost completely in his arms.

She sobbed hoarsely for a bit, and he let her.

And she let him, when his hand cupped the back of her head and her hair tickled his fingers and it hit him too that… it was really real, she was here.

They needed to… get to the inn though, so he pulled away and wiped his face. They could… and probably would… have a longer cry and a longer hug later. But she was sick and cold and there was a roaring fire and a filled bathtub two minutes of flight away.

“Let’s go,” he said. “I knew you were coming this way and that you were sick. And I booked a room for… you.” For them both, he hoped, but-

“What?” she blubbered. “But… aren’t… aren’t you mad?”

“I mean, of course I am, but… that’s not really… that can wait.”

“I’m…” she laughed weakly, more tears spilling over. “I’m so happy to see you and there’s… so many things I would like to say and… and I’m such a mess right now and so tired and I’m just… I’m so tired I cried earlier just because a stupid pine branch hit me in the face and knocked me off my sled and it continued down the mountain without me and I’d have to walk instead and-“

“Hey, hey!” He stroked down her flushed, wet cheeks, along fresh scratches where presumably that branch had hit her. Sledding, huh… she always was extremely resourceful and oh so daring. And that explained how she got here so fast. “Rayla, it’s okay. You can rest first. I’ll take care of things… of you. For as long as you want me to, but… definitely for the next few days.”

“How c-can you… are you… here-”

He leant his head against her forehead, relishing in the feeling of contact, even if her skin was clammy and too-hot. “That’s… complicated,” he said. “And also simple. You called me here. I came.”

“Manis. Pluma. Volantis.”

 **

 She staggered, when they set down, steadying herself on his shoulder, and Callum was glad he had elected to land in front of the inn instead of at the city gates.

She definitely wasn’t well yet, her breath rasping in her throat, her forehead beading with sweat, cheeks and ears flushed. The fever had maybe broken, but it hadn’t quite left. And she was exhausted, trembling with the effort of staying upright, her eyes dull and glassy.

People were staring, when they went inside, but the innkeeper came over and recommended the soup of the day, and their house-made herbal tea blend with Sky Yak milk, and assured them it would be brought to their room shortly, with a look of very obvious sympathy at Rayla.

And then the door shut behind them.

“I owe-” she started, but he cut her right off.

“No. You’re owed,” he said tightly.

“Owed what?” She sounded… nervous.

“Soup. Hot tea. A warm bed and a fire someone else made. General fussing. Love. Forgiveness. Kindness. A damn break, for once.”

“L-love?”

“Yeah, love.”

Her clumsy fingers fumbled at the clasps of her armor. They were still ice cold when he touched them, the skin red and no-doubt sore.

But she for once didn’t resist any help he gave, sinking gratefully into the tub he had prepared. A warm bath was possibly not great for her fever, but… it was pros and cons and he needed to warm up her hands and feet.

She was barely conscious when he helped her back out of the tub, so he just put her down on a towel on the bed, drying her hair as best he could. He at least managed to get her awake to pull off her own wet underwear and pull his clean night shirt over her head.

 **

 “Callum?” she asked, because… she wanted things, and she could have them. “Stay with me? Please.”

He pressed against her back, warm and real.

His hands engulfed hers, big and soft and familiar.

Full of real little details that her brain hadn’t accurately recreated.

The callus at the side of his right index finger, from his charcoal pencil. The scar from a clumsy sparring accident at the second knuckle.

His voice when he said her name and when he told her it was okay.

His kinda… snuffling non-snoring sleep-sound.

And new things, that she hadn’t known to add.

His arms, still skinny, but stronger than they had been.

His too-long hair flopping over his ears.

And things she had yet to find out.

 **

 “Morning-“ she muttered, as she woke, feeling warm. And her throat felt a lot better, too and most of that sticky, gross fever feeling was gone, although there was still some sluggish daze, everything just a bit vaguer and floatier than it should have been.

“Afternoon,” Callum corrected lightly, but there was something not so light underneath. “You slept for… 14 hours. I bet you’re hungry.”

“I bet… you were worried.” That was a long time to worry and not wake her to assuage it but just sit in it, watching her sleep.

She reached out to stroke his furrowed brow. Her hands were bandaged though, so she couldn’t touch him properly. She didn’t remember, but did recall something about Callum saying he had called a doctor, and then she must have conked out pretty hard and slept through it.

She clenched and released her hands experimentally. Seemed alright except for being stiff and sore?

“What’s wrong with me?” she asked, staring down at the thick bandages.

“Except for the illness that nearly killed you because you’re such a massive dummy? Lots of things.” He took her hands, starting to unwind the bandages. “For your hands, hopefully only frostnip. I’m supposed to check that, when you woke, take you back to the doctor if there’s signs of deeper frostbite.”

There was some thick ointment, probably the reason for the bandages. Her hands looked reddened, the fingers a bit swollen, but… not so bad. Nothing was white or black or blistered, so really, nothing to worry about, where frostbite was concerned.

Callum wasn’t satisfied with a visual inspection though, cupping her hands in his, methodically checking she could feel all her fingers and make a full fist.

“I think it’s okay,” he said, breathing out, relieved. He did tend to catastrophize- “No… no risk of amputation this time-” His fingers slid across her left wrist, the faint whitened scars from where the binding had dug into her skin and where the sunforge blade had burnt her.

“It’s definitely okay,” she said. “Barely hurts.” She cupped his face, feeling his skin just fine against her fingertips. “It’s not like back then, okay?”

“How do you feel today?”

“Better. Way better. I’m ready to go, if-”

“What?!” He stared at her in disbelief. “Absolutely not. You didn’t hear what the doctor said. But I did, she got here while you were sleeping. And absolutely not.”

“What-“ Was it not just a regular bug?

He breathed, slowly and deliberately. “You’re okay, it’s a regular winter infection going around. But you did a number on your own immune system with the hypothermia and mountain climbing and… she said you were undernourished, dehydrated, stressed and critically exhausted. And that you would do well to take a week or more to fully recover, during which you should eat and rest plenty, stay warm and keep stress down. Does that sound like your regular travel, to you?”

Well… not so much.

“So, I’ll ask again, how do you feel today?”

“Tired,” she sighed. “My hands are stiff and achy. My throat hurts. My legs are wobbly. My head feels full of snot.” She smiled, despite all that. “My heart is happy to see you. It’s okay if you’re- I know… that it’s complicated.”

“It is. We have… some things to talk about. Promise you won’t leave until we do?”

“I promise.”

“Okay. Then, I think we should put the complicated things away for a few days. Until you’re better and it doesn’t hurt your throat to talk. Because… we have a lot of talking to do.”

“You don’t… need to stay. For those few days. If it’s hurting you to-”

He sighed heavily. “It does.” Yeah, he couldn’t say that it didn’t. Being around her with so much… unresolved. She didn’t want that for him. She didn’t… want to have those long and hard conversations right now either, when she was still tired and fevered and liable to burst into tears at the slightest provocation. “But it would hurt me more to leave. Didn’t it hurt you? To leave?”

“Yeah.” So, so much.

He reached out to pack his scarf around her throat more closely, the soft, warm knit a soothing feeling against the raw ache.

“Lie down, okay? Be sick? I’ll read you a story. It has murder and dismemberment in it, I asked the innkeeper specifically.”

[thedaredevilsgirl]

Hello! Can you write something about meeting Sam in Scotland after months of being away from each other?

A Big Cliché

Warnings: none

Word count: 968

N/A: this has been in my drafts for a few weeks, it's not as good as I wanted it to be, but I thought it was so cute. I hope you like it.

When Sam got the job in Scotland he seriously thought about quitting, he didn't want to be away from his family and he didn't want to be away from you. But you didn't let him, that was his dream, you didn't want him to give up such a good opportunity just because of you.

The beginning was complicated, you were already used to each other's presence, waking up without him next to you in bed, not staying up late just talking, but as time went by you made it work.

He called you every day, you always needed to talk before going to sleep. He told you all about his day, about his adventures in the new country, the friends he was making, how much he hated his next door neighbor for being such a grouch, how much he loved his new job, and all the new recipes he was learning. You told him about everything too, how the last semester of college was going, about the new books you had bought and were reading, and about your new passion in a literary character.

"You should come and visit me here, I miss you". He says one day while chatting by face time

"I miss you too, what do you think about me coming over next week, maybe spending a few days with you" you say smiling.

"Actually I think that's a wonderful idea, I need to see you".

And that's how you ended up on the plane, going to Scotland, ready to see your boyfriend after 6 months away, you get off the plane excited to see him, you search for him with your eyes until you finally find him in the middle of the crowd holding a little sign written "My love", you run to his arms and he grabs you hugging you tightly.

"I missed you so much" he says releasing you from the hug and kissing you.

"I missed you too, every day" a few tears stream down your face.

"Hey don't cry, we are together again and we will enjoy all these days love, and if you I cry too" he wipes his tears quickly and smiles.

"Alright, no tears".

"Do you like it?" he says pointing to the little sign he was holding up.

"It's very tacky and extremely cliché, so yes I love it" you laugh.

"I have so much to show you here" he says as they get into his car "You'll love it all, I'm sure".

"What was the first thing you planned?" You ask smiling.

"For today I thought you would be too tired from your trip, so let's go home and I'll cook for you, what do you think?"

"I think it's wonderful.

When you arrive at his apartment he stops for a moment and you look at him without understanding.

"What happened?" You ask.

"Nothing, I just love you" he smiles.

"You, Sam Holland, are such a cliché".

He pulls you in for another kiss leaning you against the door of your apartment, his hands on your hips keeping you close to him.

Someone grumbles loudly causing the two of you to quickly separate.

"Mr. Holland" a guy in his late forties apparently speaks with a bit of disgust in his voice.

"Good morning" Sam speaks smiling "Y/N, this is my neighbor, Clark, the one I was telling you about.

The annoying neighbor, you remembered.

"It's nice to meet you, Sam told me a lot about how nice you were" you say and Sam holds back a laugh.

"And who are you?" He asks.

"That's my girlfriend, she came to spend a week with me".

"Of course" Clark says opening the door to his apartment "please Mr Holland, I hope you won't make any noise..." He looks them both up and down "immoral".

As he enters his apartment completely out of his vision the two begin to laugh.

"My God, now I understand why you complain so much about him" he says as soon as he enters the apartment.

"Did you see the way he looked at us?"

"Yeah, I thought he was going to kill us with just that look".

"But don't worry about him honey, we'll be well away from him this week" He says "Come on, I'll take your things to your room" he picks up his bags and carries them down the hall to his room.

"Your apartment is tidier than I thought it would be" you say laughing.

"Hey, I'm the organized twin" he smiles " and I cleaned up before you arrived" he sits down next to you on the bed "I wanted to talk to you" his face becomes more serious.

"What?" you ask a little nervous, you hadn't seen each other in a while, maybe he thought things weren't like they used to be and wanted to put an end to it.

"It's just...this is hard, well I know this long distance relationship thing is kind of hard, I guess I spent most of those four months thinking about you."

"I kept thinking about you too.

"There are only a few months left before you finish college, and there are several jobs here in Scotland in the field you want..."

You smile as you realize where that conversation was going, you didn't want to tell him yet, but you had already received a job offer there.

"Are you calling me to live here?" You ask smiling.

"Actually" he gets out of bed and walks over to his bedside table picking up something there "I'm asking you to marry me" he kneels in front of you opening the small box with a ring inside "Y/N, do you accept?"

You are speechless for a moment, smiling to yourself with tears streaming down your face.

"Yes, I do" He smiles placing the ring on your finger and kissing you again.

"We'll never have to spend so much time away from each other again, I promise" he whispers.

"What do you say we make some immoral noises? " You smile.

"Too loud? He asks, taking you on his lap.

"Really loud."

[iliveiloveiwrite]

Idol

A/N: I’m back to writing after my little break; I just needed this week to get back to enjoying writing again and I definitely am so here we are! I have so  many requests and yet here I am writing out a Draco fic. This is inspired by a conversation I had with the always lovely @dreamer821​ who loves Cassandra Clare just as much as I do - our conversations are making my day and I think you’re amazing. But it got me to thinking and this is the end result. I hope you all like! And yes, requests are still being written!

Summary: Bookshops, book signings. 

Pairing: Draco Malfoy x Fem!Reader

Warnings: none - fluff.

Word count: 2.3k

You unzip your jacket the moment you enter the warm shop. Draco copies your movement, unbuttoning his suit jacket underneath it too.

You shake your head at him fondly. Only he would dress so formally to an event such as this one.

The welcoming scent of old books and worn pages washes over you as you step further into the bookshop. Your stomach had been full of butterflies all day for you were finally meeting your favourite author after being a fan for so long. Draco had surprised you with tickets to the event for your birthday knowing how much you adored her books but how rare it was for her to travel to the UK.

Draco follows you to where chairs have been set up in expectation. He leans close to your ear, murmuring, “Where are we sitting then, love?”

“I don’t want to seem too eager by sitting right at the front, but I’d like to have a good view and be able to hear her.”

Draco smiles, “What about the third row?”

You nod, letting him lead you to two seats furthest from the aisle. You sit in the final seat; turning your body diagonally for a better view. Draco sits in the seat beside you, carefully placing your bag of books down on the floor in front of him. He had insisted that he be the one to carry them as you had piled six hardback books into the bag after long consideration over which books you would take to be signed. Eventually, you decided on the original hardbacks of the series that made you fall in love with the author in the first place. Nostalgia and sentimentality winning the battle of choice.

A hand on your knee makes you realise that your leg was bouncing with nerves and excitement.

“You okay?” Draco asks, eyes searching your face.

“Nervous. Excited.”

Draco chuckles, watching you fondly. From his happier moments at Hogwarts, he remembers you walking around with your nose permanently hidden away in a book. There was always one series that you would return to over and over again – rereading the first books then reading the new book when it was released. He never stopped noticing how much you adored this author, even after you fell in love with him. He didn’t need to understand your love for this particular muggle author; he just accepted it as part of you. So when he caught wind that she was visiting the UK on a book tour for her most recent work, he immediately bought tickets and surprised you on your birthday.

It was the hardest secret he has ever kept from you. It was the only secret he has ever kept from you.

“Are you happy with your choices of books?” He asks, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear.

You nod, grinning, “Very happy. And I get doubled signed thanks to you coming with me.”  

“What better use of your partner is there?”

“Very true.”

“Have you thought of any questions you’d like to ask her?”

You bite your lip, “I have but I don’t know if I want to ask anything.”

“Why not?”

“What if I mess up and make a fool of myself in front of her?”

“Then I’ll have to make a bigger fool out of myself to take the attention away from you.”

You sigh, sliding further into your seat, “I can’t help but wonder how you’d do that.”

“I won’t need to,” Draco reassures, “You aren’t going to mess up.”

“You astonish me with your faith in me.”

“As you astonish me, dear.” He takes your hand in his, tangling your fingers together. “Now, let’s meet your idol.”

Quiet falls over the expectant crowd as the interviewer and your favourite author take a seat at the front of the room.

Your hand tightens on Draco’s as you take in the sight of finally seeing your idol in the flesh.

Draco leans towards you, whispering, “Can you see okay?”

You nod at him as the interviewer greets the crowd and the event begins.

The latest book in her series wrapped up the previous plots from past books before bringing in new issues for freshly introduced characters. Angels and demons were using Earth as a battleground and it was down to a group of misfit teenagers to stop it.

A cliché plot but when you first read the books as a misfit teenager at Hogwarts, you fell in love with the world-building and character development. You had also formed somewhat of a crush on the sarcastic blonde-haired character that as you sit next to him, reminds you of Draco.

He hadn’t read the books, and he didn’t intend to, but he was happy to sit through the interview for you. Anything for you.

You sit entirely enraptured by the author as she details her inspirations for the novel as well as her hopes for the series.

You couldn’t be certain you weren’t dreaming.

Soon enough, the interviewer opens up to questions from the floor. Hand after hand shoot up, all wanting an opportunity to ask a question, to talk to the author.

Draco nudges your side with his elbow. You turn to him, catching his eyes. You stare at each other for a moment before he mouths, ‘go on’. Your hand raises itself in the air.

“Yes, you in the corner next to the blonde-haired man.”

Your eyebrows fly into your hair; you point down at yourself checking the interviewer meant you.

“Yes, you. What would you like to ask?”

You clear your throat. Draco squeezes your hand in support, reminding you that he’s here. “Erm… well my question revolves around the lore that runs through the series. It’s so heavy with mythology and that’s essential to the plot, so I was wondering where you got your inspiration from?”

Your favourite author smiles at you; she smiles at you and you are certain you stop breathing. “That’s a really good question. There’s a lot of biblical references throughout the series given that it’s angels and demons, but I drew inspiration from everywhere. Greek mythology especially, I love the story of Hades and Persephone, so I wanted to include that in some format. But I also enjoy researching the lore and history surrounding witches and wizards such as witch hunts and knew I had to involve magical lore somewhere. The series really is an amalgamation of those interests. Thank you for your question! Thank you for coming!”

You settle further back into your seat as the interviewer takes more questions. You sit there in disbelief at the conversation you just had with your favourite author. Your heart pounds from the adrenaline. You could cry from happiness right now.

Draco’s arm wraps around the back of your chair; he leans in to whisper in to your ear, “You did good, love.”

“I did?” You mouth.

He nods, smiling at you before turning his attention back to the Q&A session. You let your mind wander slightly, taking it all in. Her books had been your lifeline through Hogwarts where you felt lonely and invisible; they had been your comfort through exam stress, and teenage stress. You knew you could return to her books and feel as if you were being welcomed home.

You didn’t know that Draco had noticed you.

It was the perfect relationship, really. You both adored books; Draco loved his non-fiction and latest journals in the advancement of potion making and medicine. You loved your fiction; transporting yourself to different worlds for hours at a time.

The library in your home was split down the middle; your books taking over one half, his taking over the other half. In the middle of the room was a couch where you would both spread out on a weekend and either read or catch up with work.

Draco’s hand on your shoulder brings your attention back to the room, “They’re moving onto the signing. Are you ready to meet your idol?”

Excitement bubbles in your gut, “Never more ready.”

You both the join the queue where you give your names to the worker waiting with sticky notes to put in your book. Draco says your name when asked; you look up at him questioningly, but he shrugs it off.

You’re practically bouncing in your spot in line as you amble closer and closer to your favourite author. You can see her head over the top of the line where she signs book after book, personalising each one.

The line gets shorter and shorter and it isn’t long before you’re standing in front of her, “You asked the first question,” she says, recognising you.

“I did,” You say, somewhat in shock, “I’m (Y/N).”

“Well (Y/N),” she starts, signing the first of your books and pulling the second towards you, “I loved that question, so thank you for asking it.”

“Thank you for writing these books; they meant the world to me through high school.”

“I’m glad they mean that much to you. Thank you for coming today!” She says, signing your last book with a flourish before handing the pile back to you.

You smile at her before turning away; watching Draco as he walks up to her with his pile.

“Another (Y/N)?” She chuckles.

“Not really, she’s my partner. I’m getting them signed in her name.”

She looks taken aback, “That’s lovely.”

Draco shrugs, “She would read these over and over again in high school. I never saw her without them. I couldn’t let her miss this at all.”

“That’s… really very sweet.”

Draco smiles, “Thank you.”

She takes her time signing his final book, saying to Draco that she’s writing a special message to you. She hands it back to him with a smile and a ‘thank you’. Draco nods his head before walking over to where you’re waiting for him with barely concealed tears in your eyes. She cannot help but think Draco looks exactly what she pictures the protagonist to look like.

“Love?” He asks, taking your pile of books from you and putting them carefully in the bag.

“Oh Draco,” You say, wrapping him up in a hug. Your face hidden in his chest; arms wrapped around his middle. “Thank you,” You utter, words muffled by his clothes.

Draco chuckles, placing the bag of now signed books on the floor, and running a hand through your hair, “You’re very welcome, love.”

You look up at him, tears still in your eyes, “You’re the best, I hope you know that.”

“I do, but it’s nice to hear it sometimes.”

You step back, wiping your eyes with the sleeve of your jacket. Draco picks up the bag of books in one hand and holds your hand with the other. You walk out of the shop, taking a moment to fasten coats and jackets against the chill of the evening air.

“You asked a wonderful question, love.” Draco compliments.

“Thank you, darling. I wonder if she knew we’re a witch and wizard.” You muse.

Draco hums, “I do wonder myself. Is there a lot of witches and wizards in the books?”

You shake your head, “Not really. Though there is one figure that reminds me of Dumbledore in his description.”

Draco chuckles, “It wouldn’t surprise me at all if he met her once upon a time.”

You laugh with him, “No, I suppose it’d make sense.”

You fall silent as you walk down the street; hands swinging between your bodies.

“What did she say to you?” You ask Draco after a moment, “You looked to be having a good conversation.”

“She mentioned that I was the second person with your name, so I said that I was your partner. She thought I was very sweet; I’ll have you know.”

You lean into his arm, “You are very sweet. The sweetest.”

“I’m about to be even more sweet. Shall we get some dinner while we’re out?”

You groan in happiness, “Yes, please. I don’t feel like cooking tonight.”

Draco barks a laugh as he leads you into a nearby restaurant. You’re seated in a small booth and are given menus before ordering your drinks.

“Thank you for taking me, Draco. It means the world.” You say as the waitress goes to grab your drinks.

Draco smiles at you softly, “Anything for you, you know that.”

“I love you.” You grin.

“I love you too. You want to look at her signatures don’t you?”

You squirm in your seat, “I really do. Is that nerdy? It’s nerdy, isn’t it?”

“It’s not nerdy at all. I know that she wrote a special message for you in one of them.”

Your mouth drops open, “What? Really? You’re joking? Don’t joke about this.”

“I wouldn’t joke about this. She really did write a message for you.” Draco states, handing you the bag.

You pile the books onto the table, moving the ones she signed for you to one side. Focusing on the books that she signed for Draco. You run a hand over her signature; still not truly believing you met your favourite author.

“I can’t believe we met her,” You whisper in awe.

“You best believe it, love.”

You smile at him before flipping open the last book in the pile. The first two had simple signatures addressed to you, but as you turn the pages to the title page, you see her message inscribed in ink:

“To (Y/N), Few find a love like you have with him. He’s a keeper.”

And underneath is her shining signature. She had seen it so clearly; his love for you, and your love for him. It radiates from the both of you.

You show Draco the message and he laughs at it in disbelief, taking the book from your hands to read the message.

Draco eventually hands the book back to you, “I have to say I’m rather inclined to agree.”

“I think I agree with you. You are a keeper.”

His eyes shine with love and adoration as he holds your hand across the table.

********

General (HP) taglist: @the-hufflefluffwriter​ @obsessedwithrandomthings​ @kalimagik​ @summer-writes​ @lupins-sweater​ @slytherinprincess03​ @mischiefsemimanaged​ @soleil-amaryllis​ @masterofthedarkness​ @bforbroadway​ @chaotic-fae-queen​ @peachesandpinks​ @nebulablakemurphy​ @haphazardhufflepuff​ @siriusly-addicted-to-writing​ @firewhisky-kisses​ @deafgirltingz​ @kylosleftbuttcheek​ @heloisedaphnebrightmore​ @harrypotter289​ @sprvpti​ @accio-rogers​ @potterverseimagine​ @figlia--della--luna​ @angelinathebook​

Draco Malfoy taglist: @cheapglitter​ @the--queen-of-hell​ @in-slytherin-we-trust​

[rainydayhogwartsimagines]

Fred with a Muggle!reader:

Warnings: swearing, sexual innuendos

He met you after the battle of Hogwarts.

He needed something from Charlie and Charlie wanted to meet in a muggle bar

"I can't get over the fact that you frequent a bar. With a muggle running it. And she knows you're a wizard." Fred admitted.

"I'm not the only one that frequents here, a lot of ministry members come here too." Charlie shrugged.

Fred had heard a lot about you, Charlie saying you often listened to people's problems, occasionally giving them free drinks if they've had a lousy day.

He'd never actually seen you. Charlie was always shit with descriptions

That's when a glass was put in front of Charlie and Fred looked over

Your hair was in a ponytail, a dishrag over your shoulder and a black cami that seemed to make your eyes pop.

"The usual?" You asked Charlie.

"Thanks dear." He nodded as you poured a glass.

"And you?" You asked Fred.

The second your eyes met his you felt something similar to a shockwave go down your spine.

"....Uh.... I'm... Not much of... A drinker.." Fred said making Charlie raise a brow.

"We have different sodas. If you want any of that." You said.

"... Root beer." He finally said making you nod.

From that point on, Fred showed up every Wednesday, it being the most empty so he could talk to you in peace.

"Hi Weasley." You said not even looking up from the book you were reading.

He sat at the bar.

"interesting story?" He asked.

You lifted the book so he could see it's title "Fantastic Beasts and where to find them"

He rose a brow. "How'd you get your hands on a wizard book?" He asked.

"It had a muggle release. I bought it after finding out it was real." You admitted.

Fred chuckled. "Curious about the wizarding world?" Fred asked.

"how can I not be? This world I live in... It's boring." You said.

"Surely it's not that bad." Fred said.

"Oh but it is. See I'm supposed to be a productive member of society. This isn't considered that apparently." You said.

"screw society." He shrugged.

"I think I'm beginning to really like you Weasley." You said with a smile.

He gave you a smile and your heart pounded.

Since then Fred basically visited you every day now.

He'd watch you work if you were too busy but on the empty days you'd sit at the bar with him.

Today was an empty day, much to Fred's luck.

"Hello there." You greeted.

"Helllooo" he said sitting down.

You sat next to him, a look of obvious exhaustion falling over your face the second you made contact with the chair.

"long day?" Fred asked.

"Long. Long. LONG. Day." You sighed.

"the ministry men just kept coming in. And that's not a problem. The problem is they all order the same damn drinks and I'm always on my feet" you groaned.

"prop your legs up on me, I really don't care." Fred suggested. You did, moving the chair closer.

"I have a question." Fred said.

"I have an answer." You replied.

"Do you own this bar?" He asked.

You nodded. "Used to be my brother's." You said.

"What happened?" Fred asked.

"...There's a reason why I'm allowed near magic." You said.

It registered with Fred what you meant.

"Your brother's a wizard?" He asked.

"He was." You said.

Fred frowned.

"He died in the battle for hogwarts." You said softly.

Fred realized your last name... Your brother saved his life.

"Sorry... Was Charles L/n your brother?" Fred asked.

You nodded.

"Your brother saved me." Fred said.

You blinked.

"You... You're the wizard he...."

You swallowed looking in Fred's eyes.

"Fred.... Thank you." You said.

"For what?" He asked.

"For not letting my brother's sacrifice be in vain. Charlie tells me how much you've helped people after the war... I'm glad you're living your life." You said sincerely.

He almost expected anger from you. But instead you were grateful.

He looked in your eyes and you looked in his.

Fred finally got the nerve to kiss you.

You looked forward to seeing him every day now, always smiling as he entered

He'd kiss you from across the bar making you smile as you worked.

One day you decided to close early though and Fred wanted you to actually see the wizarding world.

So he took you to the burrow to meet his parents for the weekend.

You were nervous the entire time but he kept reassuring you that Molly would fucking love you

Spoiler alert: she did.

Harry didn't seem to mind you either, you shaking his hand.

It felt nice for him to meet someone and not have them go "OH MY GOD YOU'RE THE BOY WHO LIVED!"

"So what do you do for a living?" Arthur asked.

"I uhm. I own a pub." You admitted.

"So that's where Fred has been running off to." George chuckled.

Percy walked in and you rose a brow.

"....Wait you're their brother!?" You said.

Percy gave you a "Don't you say a word" look but George blinked.

"How do you know Percy?" Fred asked.

"He comes to the pub every now and again." You admitted making him facepalm.

Fred and George gaped.

"Our brother. In a bar? Have you no shame Percy?" George said.

"Fred's girlfriend owns that bar, which he goes to everyday, and I'm the spectacle here?" Percy asked.

"Yeah because you have a constant stick shoved up your--"

"OKAY GINNY!" Percy cut her off making you laugh.

Fred wrapped his arm around you with a smile.

You ended up really enjoying your time there, answering questions Arthur had about muggle objects.

You went to bed early your first night there Molly sitting down with Fred

"We love her." Molly said.

"Really?" Fred asked.

"She's amazing Fred. Truly." Arthur agreed.

Fred felt relieved hearing this.

He showed you all sorts of things in the wizarding world

Your personal favorite was butterbeer.

When you had to return back to the muggle world you were kind of disappointed.

But you started making weekend trips to the Burrow a regular thing.

There was this one night you were really busy though.

This time the Weasley's came to you.

"What are you all doing here?" You asked.

"Y/n, I need an ale!" Someone yelled making you groan.

"Give me a table." Fred said. Him helping out wasn't uncommon.

"Five." You said, handing him a notepad

The family watched you two in action, both of you working around each other in impressive yet strategic ways.

"Can we help?" Ginny asked.

You whipped around and nodded.

"If you come across any empty glasses, clean them." You said. Molly and Arthur sat watching their children all assist you.

"Shit!" You grumbled as the jukebox glitched again.

"Repairio." Hermione said making it work.

"You are a godsend Granger. Truly." You said with a laugh as you sped past her.

Your balance skills with treys of alcohol was honestly impressive

Along with Fred and George's speedy order taking.

Before you knew it the bar was empty.

You finally turned off the open sign and hugged Fred.

"Thank. God." You whined.

He chuckled and Ron gaped.

"This is what you do? All day? No magic?" Ron asked.

You nodded.

"Goddess. Your girlfriend is a goddess." Ron said making you snort.

Fred kissed your head and you sighed pulling off the apron.

"Alright. Tell me we're going home, I am exhausted and looking forward to Molly's cooking." You said making Fred's brow raise.

"Did you just call... The burrow home?" George noticed.

"...I guess I did." You shrugged.

Fred already was forming wedding plans in his head.

George, Fred and you all rode separately from the rest of the group.

"Alright. Be real with me. How many times have you shagged on the bar?" George asked making you choke on air.

"Christ George!" Fred gaped.

"I'm just saying, it's right there!" George said.

"....Like three times, but that is besides the point!" You answered.

"I knew it!" George said.

"and how, pray tell did you know that?" Fred asked.

"One of your shirts were behind the bar." George said making both of you groan.

Fred didn't mind helping you out during the busy days.

A secret passage to the wizarding world being right next to it didn't hurt either.

Fred and you now had been seeing each other for about a year.

The Christmas season was a nice one, spending it with his family

Molly made you a sweater, which during the winter never came off.

Fred however was gearing up to ask you to marry him.

You already moved in with him after your six month anniversary.

Now he was fidgeting with a ring in his pocket as you worked.

"So this would go... Here." You muttered to yourself.

Fred just had to find the right time.

"Fuck, why is the scotch missing a cap?!" You groaned.

When it was just you and him.

The bell on the door rang, indicating the last customer left and Fred used a quick spell to shut off the open sign.

"thanks." You sighed as you found the missing Scotch cap.

"Hey. Why don't you take a break?" Fred suggested.

When was the right time to even ask you?

You nodded and sat next to him.

"What's in your pocket?" You asked noticing him keeping rather close to it.

Well. Now was the perfect time!

Fred swallowed and leaned forward taking your hands into his.

"I love you." He said.

"I love you too. Are you dying or something?" You asked concerned.

"what? No-- no." He shook his head.

"I love you so much and I want to make you happy for the rest of our lives." He said making you raise a brow.

"What--"

He pulled out the ring and your eyes went huge, looking at him and then the ring.

"Fred..." You breathed.

"Will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?" He asked.

You looked at him almost the exact same way you did a year ago, the same shocked and vulnerable expression on your face as you held his hands.

"...Yes Fred!" You said before he slid the ring on your finger and kissed you.

He called his brothers-- all of them, telling them with no context to get their asses to the burrow.

They all did, now standing confused in the living room.

"Why are we here fred?" Bill asked, Fleur equally confused.

"I'm waiting on mum." Fred said as she finally walked down with Arthur.

"What's going on?" Ginny asked.

"I asked Y/n to marry me." Fred said.

"and I said yes." You said making everyone gasp.

Molly was a happy crying mess, hugging you saying she gained a new daughter.

Harry was happy that you weren't going anywhere along with Ron and Hermione.

Charlie was cracking a massive smile.

"This happened because of you Charlie." You said with a laugh.

"Finally! She gives me credit!" Charlie said making you laugh.

"welcome to the family Y/n." Arthur said with a smile.

A few months later you were married, the bar eventually making it's way into diagon Alley

You closed down the original location but made the second one equally comfortable.

Every night without fail, Fred would find his way to a seat at the bar and would watch you work.

Harry would occasionally visit with Ginny, you two being the first to know about their engagement.

"I've got the coolest in laws ever!" You'd say making Fred chuckle.

You would have days where the family would sit around after closing, telling you stories of hogwarts before the war as you sat in a chair with Fred, him holding you in his arms with a smile.

You wouldn't trade any of this for the world. Because this is where you belonged.

This was your home.

[chaoticallysapphic]

the great trial part one

summary: This was meant to be the easy part. The part filled with brightness and love. The war was over and you had the love of your life all to yourself. No more Baatar, no more secrecy and no more lies. But with the calm comes the realization as all the adrenaline finally leaves you. Now you know, this is the hard part.

a/n: So remember when I said I wouldn’t post anything until the sequel was done? Well it turns out I need validation to thrive and would love peoples feedback on the series so I’ve decided that I am going to slowly release what I currently have while trying to finally finish what’s left. Thank you to @medeliadracon​ for beta reading this and @ladyxffandoms​ for being such a big help! This wouldn’t nearly be as good without the two of you. 

This is the sequel to the great divide series.

word count: 4k

That first month in your new apartment is probably the worst. You guys were able to find a small one on the bottom floor of a complex. It had a small side garden with a lemon tree and vines growing up the side of the building and your dad was already talking to about all the flowers you could plant together. 

Suyin put you on house arrest as well which caused an uproar with not only Kuvira, who offered to take your year for herself, but also your parents. You would be stuck inside for a year whilst she would have to stick it out for three. Kuvira hated how you were paying for her actions, she didn’t see how wrong it was for you to turn a blind eye for three years. No one knew the pressure she put you under.

Your parents offered to pay the bills. They were comfortable enough with your mom's Lieutenant salary and with your father's popular flower shop. They even bought you guys furniture and upon your request paint to personalize your first home. 

Somehow once that front door shuts, leaving you both inside with furniture randomly stacked around in the living for the both of you to organize along with paint cans and boxes of your belongings, the room feels like the air has been sucked out of it. You’ve dreamed of this day for years and it isn’t going at all how you planned. 

She doesn’t get what the big deal is, she’s just happy she’s not stuck in a prison cell. That frustrated look on your face is new and with a sharp reply at some snappy comment you made, she realizes she doesn’t like it.

Kuvira gets pissed that the couch is too heavy, the paint isn’t the right shade, and even though she claims she doesn’t care it’s what you’ve dreamt, and dammit you deserve for it to come true. A plate cracks, silverware is dropped, the bookcase is too small for all your childhood books and one of you (Kuvira) already managed to scuff up the floors. 

This, the after, is meant to be the easy part. There aren't any more battles or secrets, train rides, or negotiations. It’s the two of you in your first apartment and this day is supposed to be a happy one. This is meant to be a peaceful and happy day with stolen kisses as you lazily unpack. You’re meant to be starting over and it’s not supposed to be so difficult.

The sun has gone down and the lights dimly illuminate your disaster of a living space. Nothing has been accomplished. You grip the roots of your hair as the paint issue is once more brought up “why does it matter? It’s a decent color!” 

“Because it’s not what I envisioned!” 

“Well, we can’t always get what we want! What, are we going to have your parents return it?” Spirits! She doesn’t get it, your vision of the future was sacred, something you held tight for all those years. It has to be at least slightly like you imagined it, and this isn’t right. 

To Kuvira, your behavior is starting to remind her of a spoiled child upset about not getting the last piece of candy.

“You don’t get it! It matters to me, we’re gonna be living here for the next three years. I think we should at least like what we put on the walls!” You storm away, slamming the bedroom shut behind you. There aren’t many places to hide here, all the main living space is combined along with a very small bathroom, one wall is completely windows that show the small garden and by the kitchen is the door to the bedroom. 

Kuvira stands frozen in the living room, slightly flinching as the door slams shut. She understands that there will be a rocky adjustment period. She admitted that day in the tent that she needs to work on the way she treats you. 

But she didn’t expect it to go south so fast. While you have your version of how today is meant to go, so does she. Kuvira hoped today would go along smoothly, she didn’t care about the furniture or walls, she simply wanted to peacefully start off your new life together on a good note.

You aggressively rub at your eyes as you feel tears of frustration well up before sitting down on the edge of your bed. That’s at least one thing that seems to be working out, all the beds you shared in the past were rather small (besides the one in the Beifong estate) so it was a relief to see them carry in a queen-sized bed for both of you. You lay down over the covers and sighed. Tomorrow will be better, you tell yourself. 

You don’t mean to fall asleep, you just planned to lay there and stew in your emotions a bit before getting up and trying to talk it out. So when you awake with a start, your hand immediately goes to search for that familiar body. You choke out a sob as you find the other side empty. Momentarily forgetting where you are, you begin to cry as you wrap your arms around yourself. The words “what did I do?” leave your lips. 

You bring a hand to try and stifle the sound as your lungs squeeze out all the air it can. The room feels so small and the darkness of the night so terrifying. 

There’s the sound of shuffling from the other side of the door before someone opens it up, Kuvira looks at you, her hair a curly mess from sleep. She squints, still half asleep before hearing you let out a whimper. She walks over, crawling onto the bed until she’s in front of you, her hands come up to move your wrists as you continue to try and muffle the sound. “Hey, hey what’s wrong?” 

Your eyes shoot up to hers and you throw yourself at her, wrapping your arms around her neck. “You weren’t here,” you cry. Kuvira’s eyebrows shoot up at your words before wrapping her arms around your waist, pulling you closer to try and offer you some kind of comfort. “I thought…” you sniffle, “I thought we were back on the train.” 

Oh

Suddenly Kuvira feels anger flame within herself but it’s not directed at you but her because she’s the reason you're crying. “I was just sleeping on the couch, no one else is here.” Baatar isn’t here. You grip her shirt for reassurance, the fear within you stays and it makes your joints ache with anxiety as you remember all those nights alone. “I thought you wanted to be alone.” 

This side of you is brand new to her and so heartbreaking. She can feel the pounding of your heart and a part of her is worried it’ll break out of your chest. She’s done this to you, she’s made it so you're sobbing so hard you can barely breathe. As you shake in her arms, she realizes this can’t be avoided tomorrow.

You shake your head, not being able to say anything as you continue to cry. She moves her arms, an act that has you holding her tighter, and moves them to your hips so she can scoot you over so that the both of you can sleep. You seem to understand as your grip loosens just a smidgen as she slowly lays down and, due to your clinging, you follow.

Once on your sides, you wrap yourself around her, needing her to be as close as possible, and tuck your face into her neck. It’s not all that comfortable but it helps slow your heart rate down a bit. 

In the morning you seem to not want to talk about your episode, you act as if nothing happened. She always tried to ignore the way you looked after those nights on the train, honestly, she was too busy trying to scrub away the events of the night before to have noticed how truly upset you looked. 

But now in the light of day as your unpacking more dishes she notices the bags under your eyes and the unusual quiet in your demeanor. Your movements are stiff as you place the baking dishes into a bottom cabinet. 

It’s like you're a shell of yourself, like last night that bright, loving person was poured out of you along with your tears. It terrifies her to see how quickly it can all shift.

“Y/n?” You look up, quirking a brow. “Can we talk about last night?” 

You tense up a bit, brushing your hands over your sweatpants. “What about it?” 

“About…” Kuvira furrows her brows in confusion, “Y/n I thought you were hurt when I woke up.” You bite your lip, fiddling with the ties of your pants. You don't talk about this, never in the past three years have you talked about things like this with her. It always upset her when you tried to talk about how her actions hurt you. 

“Well I wasn't, just startled is all. Can you pass me that box?” 

“You were shaking,” Kuvira places her hand on the box to keep it in place when she sees you walk over to grab it yourself. “Is that… Is that what happened every time I…?” She can’t seem to bring herself to say it, so you do. 

“Every time you cheated on me?” You place your hands on your hips and sigh. “Just drop it Kuvira.” You rip the box out from under her grasp and walk away. Bile rises in your throat as those pesky images you’d dream up every time she was gone appear in your mind. 

You set the box down harder than you mean to and the sound of something breaking has you cursing under your breath. Bolin isn’t here to spar with, to help calm you down with uppercuts and swift kicks to the shins. 

Kuvira is stunned, left standing at the other side of the kitchen counter as she tries to make sense of her raging thoughts. Cheated. You're not wrong, but hearing you say it hurts. She never called it that, knowing if she did she’d have to admit what she was doing was wrong. And she could never be wrong, at least not then. 

So she called it punishments because then she could justify what she was doing. It’s not like she liked doing it because she didn’t but it seemed to be the best way to control you at the time. It won’t matter if she says that though, she knows it’s wrong and if anything it’ll make this situation worse. 

“I-I’m sorry,” she says softly, saying it makes her internally cringe, but she does mean it. You let out a huff, ignoring her as you open up the box. All the adrenaline of trying to save the day has left you, honestly, it left you around the time they slapped that stupid tracker onto your ankle but the lack of sleep and her trying to confront something you’d rather stay buried is getting to you. 

When you go to pick up the broken dish the sharp edge cuts across your hand, you hiss out in pain and jerk your hand towards your chest, it’s not a deep cut but it still hurts like a bitch. Blood begins to seep out and the sight of that sickening deep red liquid coating your palm has Kuvira panicking. 

Suddenly she’s back in the trunk with her heart in your hands as she watched you bleed out. Her hands feel warm and coated in the thickness of your blood once more. Her heart begins to race, deep in the back of her mind she knows it’s just a small cut but it’s only been a few weeks since you were so close to death.

Ignoring the fight at hand she rushes over to gently cradle your hand and pull it close, you yank your hand out of her grasp, her eyes shoot up to look at you with pinched brows. “I need to clean it, just let me clean it.” Her voice shakes as she desperately tries to take your hand back.

“I can’t…” This furious look settles on your features as you glare into her eyes before storming away towards the bathroom. She turns to follow you, her heart is pounding at the memories pouring out from the box she’s tried to shove them in. “I can’t look at you right now!” 

The slam of the door effectively ends any chance of her chasing after you. 

A couple of weeks goes by, the walls have now been painted the green you wanted and your dad brought over a second bookcase, then helped move the couch with Kuvira. He stops by often with baked goods and a fresh bouquet to replace the last. After that first day of moving in your mother doesn’t stop by though, he says she’ll come around, that she just needs time. 

But Kuvira sees the crestfallen look that takes over your features every time you open the door, and she’s not there. It’s a Friday night, and he’s come over to help cook.

Things have been tense between you and Kuvira, you can’t seem to look her in the eyes. She’s tried multiple times to get you to look at her, but each time you keep your gaze trained on something behind her or her forehead. 

What she doesn’t know is every time you do accidentally look at her, betrayal seeps through you as you remember all those nights alone. You don’t want to be filled with anger and hurt every time you look at her, but you don’t know what to do. Saying that word out loud, cheated, has opened a door you kept locked tight, spirits you had built a wall in front of it after that first time. 

But now it’s blown off the hinges and fills you up, threatening to spill at any moment. You're sure your dad notices, but he thankfully doesn’t comment. He’s commandeered Kuvira to fill the dumplings, saying “these are her favorite, anytime she got sick or upset I’d make these for her and everything would be okay again.” 

You ignore him as he tries to converse with Kuvira, her replies are short and awkward as she doesn’t know how to conduct herself around him yet. Opening up a bottle of wine for yourself you try to work on the broth for the soup, desperately trying to tune her out. You love your father so much and you're happy to be near him again, but you wish he’d just go home.

Meanwhile, Kuvira is loving his company, not only does it force you to be civil, but she gets a chance to get on his good side. She knows how much your parents mean to you and whilst it will probably take a village to get your mother to like her again, she thinks she has a shot with your dad. 

“And then! Oh, I think she was five when she realized what her mark meant, it was so adorable she-” Your dad laughs, suddenly you're filled with embarrassment as he continues. “She asked if they would be pretty.” 

You know he has good intentions but spirits now is not the time to bring up stupid soulmates. Does he not feel the tension between the two of you? You know that if he does, it’s probably slipped his mind that it’s not over something small. Your parents never had to worry about what to do if the other cheats on you multiple times whilst watching you suffer.

You fill up a glass for yourself, pouring it past the socially acceptable amount, and take a big sip before filling up two glasses for them. Part of you wants to be petty and not fill one up for her but your dad will point it out if you do. That bitter voice in your head reminds you of how Kuvira once shamed you for drinking. Fuck that.

“Between you and me I think she thinks you're pretty so five-year-old her would be very happy.” Kuvira coughs, letting out a chuckle as she shakes her head, not that you see since your back is turned. “I don’t know about that,” is her modest reply. 

To hear stories about your childhood feels like a perfectly wrapped present to Kuvira. It makes her feel close to you despite your current circumstances and to hear about how obsessed you were with soulmates makes her want to wrap you up and shower you with love.

But the problem with this story is it makes Kuvira think about all the shitty things she did to you. To hear about all the excitement and joy you showed over one day meeting her has made her feel ashamed of the person you got stuck with. Do you wish someone else was her? Have you ever thought about the what-ifs?

You hear your dad let out a chuckle and say “No, don’t be so negative.” If she replies you don’t hear it, soon after the topic is dropped as they focus back on the task at hand. Your grip on the wooden spoon is so tight you wonder if you can snap it in half. It hurts your fingers and that slight pain offers some kind of relief.

“So you pinch it like thi-” 

“I’ll be right back,” you say, leaving the broth to boil as you hastily walk over to the bathroom and lock the door behind you. Kuvira watches you go with a frown, everyday it seems you have to lock yourself away from her. Like her presence is just so unbearable that you’d rather hide in a bathroom and miss out on time with your dad.

You catch the sight of yourself in the mirror and glare back at the unrecognizable person staring back at you. Your face is flushed from embarrassment and there’s this hint of rage lingering in your gaze that wasn’t always there. 

You’ve never been this kind of angry person before, you were raised around flowers and cupcakes, books filled with great adventures and laughter echoing through your home. People who’d go to the moon and back for you. 

Your mom could get a bit angry at times and when she did she’d go take it out on one of those training dummies at her work. There was hardly ever any yelling in your home and never once did you sense animosity between your parents growing up. This new environment was stress-inducing and it made you want to throw all the glass plates against the wall.

You bring your hands up to your cheeks and sigh. When you were younger you were badly bullied at school for being so quiet, if anything the teasing words and tugs on your hair just made you cave inward on yourself instead of lashing out. 

You’d cry into your parent's arms as you asked them why no one wanted to be friends with you and your father helped you find solace in the solitary kind of activities to help bring you happiness.

When you signed up for the dance troupe that was a big step for you, which sounds ridiculous since you were nineteen, but that was something that required being around others and communicating with them. Both of your parents were thrilled at you finally branching out and had taken you to a celebratory dinner after your first practice. 

They were your best friends, you looked up to them and admired the love they still evidently held for one another, soulmates or not love seemed to dwindle over the years for most couples. And now you're here, in your bathroom of the apartment you share with your soulmate which should fill you with joy but instead you're on the verge of tears as you try to push down that burning flame within. 

If your dad ever cheated on your mom she’d slap him across the face and leave. If your mom cheated on your dad he’d cry so hard, but he’d leave as well. They always told you things like that were unacceptable when you’d tell them about all the school drama (not that you were ever involved in it) and now here you are. Feeling ashamed of all those years when she walked all over you, you wonder what would your parents think? You pull at the roots of your hair, no longer able to stomach the sight of yourself. 

You hate all of this and you can’t look her in the eyes but if given the chance you know you won’t leave, and it’s not because of that soulmate bullshit. It’s because of those quiet moments spent in each other's arms when it seemed like the world ceased to exist, where you’d giggle as she’d rub her nose against yours. Where you felt safe and seen and loved. 

You want those moments back, you want to not hate the sight of her but it seems anytime you so much as hear her voice you're on edge. You’re shaking due to the wave of anger and sadness that washes over you as you seem to get trapped in your thoughts. 

It’s happening more and more, you zone out most days and seem to think of every little bad thing she’s done. It feels like molten hot lava is poured over you every time it happens. The knock on the door makes you jump up in shock, so lost in your thoughts you tuned the rest of the world out. 

“The dumplings are ready,” you hear your dad say. You look up in the mirror and internally groan, you’ve made a mess of your hair and your eyes are bloodshot from crying. 

“Uhm,” you clear your throat “I’ll be out in a minute.”

“Okay, we’ll be setting up the table.” You nod, not realizing he can’t see you as you try to fix your appearance which is a task in itself. 

The dinner is awkward, it consists of spoons gently tapping against glass bowls and your father desperately trying to fill in the silence, he eyes you the whole time, probably expecting a smile to appear because dumplings fix everything, except this time they don’t. She feels bad for your dad, he really is trying to make you happy. Should she tell him it’s no use? That the only thing that will make you happy is probably her disappearance?

Anytime she looks your way you take a sip of your wine, you have to refill it thrice and it seems to drag on for hours despite the alcohol in your system. Kuvira does try to chime in as she tries to get on your father's good side but you are only able to let out nods of acknowledgment or forced chuckles at little anecdotes. 

He leaves after helping you clean the dishes, much to Kuvira’s chagrin. With him around, he was a nice buffer for the two of you, a pleasant way to fill the uncomfortable silence that filled your home. 

You’ve just finished wiping down the counters when she tries. “Y/n…” 

“No.” You immediately reply, heading to your shared room to get in bed before her, like you always do. 

A day later your mom finally shows up. She knows this is a private moment and to be honest she fears your mother's wrath. The way she glared at her when she opened the door had her wanting to hide away. She had said something about needing to talk to you, how the dumplings didn’t work which had Kuvira severely confused. But she didn’t question it.

So she lets your mom make tea while she tried to coax you out of the room. By the time you finally leave Kuvira sees that your mother is in the garden, patiently waiting. When you walk out of your bedroom you find her in the garden, sitting at the little iron table they got for you.

You watch Kuvira lock herself in your bedroom as you sit down across from your mom. There're two teacups filled with piping hot jasmine tea and a plate of cookies your father probably baked. 

Neither of you speaks the first few moments, you both spend the time sipping from your cups and watching the bustling of the streets, it must be lunchtime. 

“Why haven’t you stopped by?” 

Your mom sighs as she sets the teacup down, “honestly I just… I have a hard time with all of this. With her and with your arrest.” 

“Well, I did stand by while a bunch of horrible things happened mom. I understand why she arrested me,” you pick up one of the sugar cookies and bite into it. That all too familiar anger is bubbling within you once more. 

“Yes, but as a Lieutenant of the guard it’s made people deem me unworthy of my job.” You tense at her words, you didn’t know people were giving her grief about your actions. It’s not like she encouraged you to leave. “And… I am just having a hard time getting used to her and everything she’s done.” 

“She knows what she did was wrong, she was being cornered in Ba Sing S-” 

“I don’t mean what she did to the earth kingdom, I mean what she did to you.” Looking down at the dark amber color of your tea, you slump your shoulders as you think of her words. 

“I mean I’ll support whatever you decide but it’s hard for me to look at her knowing she kept you a secret, so she could keep up some charade with that Junior-” you tuck your hands under your lap at his name, trying to keep from clenching them, “and I’ve seen photos of him holding her and even kissing her, none of it is right.” 

Biting your lip to keep from crying you look away from her, at the streets that have since calmed down a bit. You focus on a child holding his mother's hand as he kicks up water at the fountain. He’s laughing, his grin so wide it takes up the majority of his features. He looks so happy and carefree. You want that kind of life, wishing you could trade his with yours.

“It was only kissing, right?” When you don’t immediately reply, she continues “y/n what happened in those three years?” 

“I…” you snap your mouth shut as you suddenly feel like you're about to cry. You can’t look at her, you’ll know she’ll be disappointed in you. “It was a couple of times to placate him, he’d been getting suspicious due to her lack of affection.” 

And I’d angered her in some way, it was usually that.

You don’t say that though, deciding to keep it to yourself. You hear the sound of glass breaking and whip your head around to see the handle of your mother's teacup broken into tiny pieces, the cup slips from her hand and falls onto the table, causing it to shatter. Hot tea splatters onto the table and seeps through the holes within it, some liquid gets on your shirt and you jump back in surprise. 

“Fuck, I’m sorry honey,” she says, going to grab one of the napkins to wipe up the excess tea. Her voice shakes with rage and you can see her jaw clenching so tight it looks like it’s about to snap. While she cleans no one talks, what do you even say? So instead you busy yourself by picking up a cookie and snapping it in half, when she leaves you’ll pick up the glass shards off the ground. 

“You know…” Your mother clenches the wet cloth in her hand, trying to control her tone. “You know that’s wrong, right?” 

“Yes, I do but what am I meant to do?” She opens her mouth to reply but stops herself when she sees the telltale sign of you being on the verge of tears. “I can’t look at her without imagining it but fuck mom I still love her.” 

It’s silent for a few beats, you can see the cogs turning in her mind. You don’t know if you want to know what’s going through her head, probably disappointment at your unwillingness to leave Kuvira. She sighs and gently sets the dirty napkin onto the table, her eyes lowered to stare at a shard that has half a panda lily painted on it, the other half had broken off during the fall. The incompleteness of it is sort of beautiful. 

“If you want to stay with her, you both need to seek professional help because this relationship is unhealthy and can’t continue this way.” She runs her hands through her hair, smoothing it back as she stares at you, “I can have a friend of mine come over to talk with the both of you, she specializes in things like this.” 

“Really?” 

“Yes but it’s not something that’ll be fixed right away. From the sounds of it, it’ll take years before the two of you can get to a healthy place.” Your shoulders slump at that, why is nothing easy anymore? Why can’t it go back to cinnamon-scented afternoons while helping your dad at his shop where the most difficult task at hand was tying a perfect bow. 

“I’ll do it.”

[deiitaelric]

just another bkdk idea

where Katsuki went to Izuku’s room to get back his book and Izuku didn't want to open the door.

"Kacchan, just w-wait a minute!"

"Just give me my fucking book, Deku! I need to do my homework and it's your fault for grabbing it in the first place"

"I thought it was mine!" Was heard through the door, followed by some noises.

"Whatever, just give it back! Look, I don't have time to be waiting here for your ass to move, ok?" and he just made his way into the other’s room. "I'm grabbing it myself-"

Katsuki stopped dead at the door frame, hand still on the knob. Izuku looked at him from inside the room; panic visible in his eyes. His green, big eyes... surrounded by... makeup?

Katsuki just kept looking at him, mouth slightly open, unable to say anything.

Izuku didn’t move a single muscle, petrified. The cleansing wipe he was using fell to the ground in what seemed to be an eternity. His tiny mouth was half painted, half smudged, opened in shock.

Katsuki felt impossible to get his eyes out of Izuku. Dark and wide in shock as they were. He moved his mouth to say something, whatever, but nothing came out. Before Katsuki could force himself to do anything, Izuku grabbed the book, placed it over Katsuki’s chest and pushed him out of his room, closing the door and locking it.

___

Katsuki was in the common room. The TV on playing some random show Katsuki wasn’t paying attention to. When he heard someone approaching, his hands started sweating and he hid them in his pockets. He had spent the last two afternoons there to give Deku the chance to go to talk to him.

“What's up?” It wasn’t him. Katsuki released some of the tension of his shoulders but didn’t give an answer. "Hey, you good? You seem grumpier than usual" Ochaco pointed out, sitting on the couch beside him.

“It’s nothing”

“Come on, don’t do this. I’m your bestie, just spill it out”

Katsuki side-eyed her and sighed. “Fine” He moved uncomfortably, feeling the weight of her stare. "I stormed into Deku's room and... Fuck. I think I screwed up"

"You found out about the makeup" Katsuki looked up at her and then took a look around. There wasn't anyone.

"You knew about that?" He whisper-yelled.

"I gave him some products" She shrugged, throwing herself back on the couch, diverting her view towards the TV. Katsuki looked at her with a glare of 'don't make me ask again'. "I was the one who told him to try it because I thought he would look cute. And he does. And he liked it so he borrowed some"

"Are you the only one who knows?"

"I think so"

"And he told you I caught him?" She only nodded. "Was he... Hm. How upset was he?"

"Well..."

"Fuck"

"Hey, but... What do you think about all this?"

"What I-? The fuck is whit that question?"

"I mean, you're upset too. Is because you saw-"

"I don't fucking care about that, okay?" Katsuki ran a hand through his hair and locked it on the back of his neck. "What did he say?"

"He was worried about you telling-"

"I wouldn't to that, what the fuck? I won't tell anyone!"

"Not that, jerk, just listen! He knows you, come on! He was worried about your friendship, about you telling him he disgust you or something"

He shook his head and then dropped it. “Fuck, I always hurt him, huh?"

"What? That's not true. Just talk to him and that's it"

"No. It is true! When I was part of his life, I hurt him. When I tried to stay away from him, I hurt him. And now that I'm trying to be part of his life again... I'm fucking hurting him again!"

"Don’t be so hard on yourself. Look. If you care, and I know you do, just stop complaining and do something about it"

“Easier said than done”

“Come on, just… Talk to him as you’re doing with me. I know he couldn’t disgust you whatever he might do or anything but-”

“Don’t act all smarty, round face, you-”

“I, what, Katsuki? Look, we’re not in first grade anymore, I know you, and… I never wanted to stick my nose in your business but-”

“Then just fucking don’t. Just shut up, will you?” He ran a hand through his hair, looking away. What a fucking smarty-ass of a best friend he had, hah?

“Okay. Just let me say one thing. He’s not gonna take the first step, he thinks he's gonna lose you so… Do something yourself”

“What?! That’s bullshit!” He pushed himself to his feet, feeling really annoyed. Lose him for-? That fucking nerd…

“Hey, where are you going?!” He didn’t answer, because he didn’t know where he was going himself.

___

Katsuki filled his lungs with all the air he could, trying to steady his hands, and knock on the door. Silence. His crimson eyes looked at the floor, where the light of the room picked below the door. He knocked again and sighed at the silence.

“It’s… me. I know you’re there, come on” His eyes caught a movement in the light but the door remained closed. “I fucking get it, I shouldn’t have stormed into your room like that. But… Fuck, I…” He ran a hand through his hair. Fuck, he wasn’t good at talking. And he said so. “Look, you know talking is not my thing, so I just wanted to bring you something to make peace” The light moved again, the shadow closer to the door now. “Can you open the door?”

More silence.

“Okay. I’ll just… let it here. Take it later, okay?” And he was about to drop the bag in front of the door and leave when the door opened slightly. Izuku looked at him with a curious and shy look in his eyes.

“Hi” Katsuki tried to stay soft.

“Hi” Izuku answered in something barely higher than a whisper.

“I bought you something” The blonde raised the bag but didn’t give it to him.

“I know, I heard you. Do you want…?” He asked as he opened the door a little more. Katsuki stepped inside and sat on the edge of the bed. “What is it?” Izuku asked after closing the door. He kept standing a few feet apart, looking at his hands, playing with his fingers in that anxious tic of his.

Katsuki handed the bag towards him and Izuku took it, curiosity filling his eyes.

“Wha-?” He dug a hand inside the bag, moving around the contents to look at all that were in there. “I…” His green eyes watered and he covered his mouth with a hand.

“You hate it that much you're even crying?” Joked Katsuki. And smiled when he saw Izuku shaking his head and smiling shyly at him.

“I just… I don’t know what to say. I like it so much”

“I’m glad I chose it all waterproof, jeez, what a crybaby you are” He teased with a smirk on his face, feeling relieved at the good reaction.

“You chose it yourself?” Izuku asked, ceasing to admire his new eye shadow palette to look at him in disbelief.

“Of course. Round face told me you borrow hers and these things shouldn’t be shared, dumbass. Plus, I bet you didn’t even have the right colors to suit you” Izuku opened his mouth to reply something but the blonde interrupted him. “One more thing,” digging inside his pockets he found what he was looking for and handed it to the other. “This is the best thing you could have” Izuku left the bag with the eyeshadows, lipsticks and brushes over the bed and took the pen. It was a black eyeliner. “It’s waterproof too. It’s the brand I use behind the mask of my hero costume”

Izuku opened it to look at the tiny tip. He made a little line on the back of his hand to try it and smiled. He sat on the edge of the bed and his expression turned more serious. “I-I don’t... Why?”

“I don’t know, I… I wanted to say sorry and… Fuck, I wanted you to know you don’t disgust me or any bullshit you might have thought”

Izuku’s cheeks turned pink and a few tears made their way out of the corner of his eyes. He rubbed them with the back of his hand. “Well, thanks for the gifts and… for telling me. I know it’s not easy for you to… talk”

“It’s not fucking easy, but… Whatever. Look” Katsuki took one of the eyeshadow palettes of the bag. “This shit suits you. I know it’s not easy being oneself in front of the world but fuck them, you know? You shouldn't be feeling bad because you like this” He shook the palette to emphasize. “And… Fuck, it suits you. Round face said she thought you would look cute and, damn it, she was right. Cute and fucking pretty. I just lost my fucking speech when I saw you wearing it” He laughed in a mixed of disbelief and embarrassment for what he just said out loud. It was hard for him to talk, but right there he seemed to feel unable to stop.

“You-You thought I was... pretty?”

Katsuki laughed again and shook his head. “Like it was something new! I mean- Wait!” The panic settled in him for a moment, but seeing the hard blush on Izuku’s face made him laugh again. ”Fuck, I said it, hah?” They shared a silence before erupting into embarrassed laughs.

“Yeah, you said it”

“Well, whatever, you know? You should know you’re always pretty, with or without this” He raised the palette again and then threw it into the bag again. “I was just trying to say that you should wear it if it make you happy”

“It makes me happy, but, you know, I don’t want people making fun of me, not again”

“Fuck. Them. I’ll break the knees of whatever asshole who dare to say something bad about it”

Izuku laughed and brushed his tears once again.

“You can’t do that!”

“Oh, well, I dare them to try” Izuku laughed louder and glanced at him with a tender look.

“Thanks”

“You said that already”

“I know. But I’m really glad you’re supporting me. You know you mean a lot to me”

“We’re being really cheesy today, huh?”

“I’m sorry. But it’s true, so” Izuku shrugged and looked at his feet, starting to bounce them.

“Don’t be. You… too. To me. I mean, you’re… important. To me”

“Are you trying to say something?” Izuku asked, side-eyeing him with a smirk.

“Fucker” Katsuki muttered, feeling his cheeks burning. What a loser, Katsuki, great, he thought. Izuku giggled, looking at his playing feet again. Katsuki cleared his throat. “You good, then?”

“I’m more than good, you know? I think it was worth it, after all. I mean- I never expected that someone caughing me wearing makeup would do my crush to tell me I’m pretty”

Katsuki remained quiet, the words not being caught yet.

“Who!?”

“You, idiot” Laughed Izuku. “I’m just so happy you came to talk to me… and you even brought me makeup. I thought it was a good time to tell you. I was gonna tell you eventually so, why not now?” He shrugged. “And it doesn’t mean anything. I like that we’re friends now and I’m happy with that, I just wanted to be honest, you know?”

The silence was interrupted when Katsuki started to rummage in the bag. He placed a few products on Izuku’s lap and got up, making the other to look up at him with a confused face.

“Put that on,” The blonde pointed at the products, and then at the closet “and change your clothes. I’m going to change too” He marched towards the door without any more explanation.

“Wait! What? For what?”

“I’m taking you out on a date to answer you my way” Katsuki said just before closing the door, leaving a burning-cheek and flustered Izuku behind.

The end.

[lluvguts]

Cool Blue ; Chapter Seven

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frightened by my feelings

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☽ a/n: i'm so sorry for the long wait! i've been in a mood.

☽ warnings: internalized homophobia

☽ fic masterlist

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Alberto broke away from Giulia's hand clasped in his own and listened to their steps (his silent, always barefoot but Giulia's sandals slapped the boards unpleasantly) up the rickety staircase to the hallway. Mismatched pairs of socks and a few pencil shavings led them off in a distinct line to Alberto's room, ending at his door, a sign to anyone else in the house that Alberto had been rummaging through the downstairs cupboards at night; whereas Giulia's room opposite his, clean when she wanted it to be, teeming with school books and Machi's homemade cat toys and plant life, had no such trail.

"You know, come to think of it, this makes much more sense now," Giulia mused, her eyes fixed on her toes as Alberto abruptly stopped them at the doorway to his room.

Alberto felt a headache start to blossom beneath his eyelids, above his browbone. A throb with no rhythm but all the more pain to make up for it. He shut his eyes and took a deep breath, feeling the steadying weight of the doorframe pressing on his shoulder as he leaned on it. Giulia knew, but she...also didn't. A tiny fleck marked the frame and only became apparent in his blurry vision, just a chip on the wood. Stripped of paint and sticking out against the cream walls in an ugly slash.

He trailed his thumb along the divot, feeling the splinters biting underneath his calloused hand. Giulia was still talking, ignoring his silence. The tension only grew the longer Alberto hovered at the door, refusing to open it and let all of those things come seeping out, with Giulia's smug remarks making the pain reach a high point.

"...I'm not nearly as obvious about, uh, my thing as you are. I don't go painting pictures of him--which I'm almost positive you do, by the way. Oh! And Papa's camera? You took photos, too? Santa mozzarella, Alberto, this is just like a soap opera--"

Alberto's thumbnail dug into the wood. "Yeah, okay Giulia, we get it. You're such a genius or whatever for knowing my secrets, alright? Will you ever shut up?"

Giulia blinked, losing some of that teasing glint in her eyes, but only for a moment. She stood up straighter and examined Alberto's pained expression and his half-stance, shouldered up on the wallpaper so he didn't faint from fear. She yanked his forearm away from the divot in the doorframe and pulled it forward, propelling them into Alberto's room without any other notice.

"Wait! Giulia! It's-It's very messy in here! I wouldn't want you having a heart attack or something..." Alberto rambled, flinging free of her grip once again to run ahead of her.

Always in the lead, scrambling to kick his discarded bath towel under the bed, and the rush of feelings that surged with it. The photos. The pictures were still on the dresser, and Giulia was standing by the bed, so that saved him at least a few agonizing minutes. While she grimaced at his crumpled sheets, pinching her nose and complaining of the fish smell, Alberto shied away from her gaze, laughing nervously and edged closer to the dresser.

"Honestly, Alberto," Giulia picked up his comforter, then wrinkled her nose in disgust and it flew from her fingers. "Haven't you heard of airing out your bedroom? The window is literally right here."

He glanced over Giulia's shoulder at the harbor beyond, thinking she should be at work. They should both be at work, or working, or doing at least something. "Don't like it."

"Don't like the window?" A piece of dirty laundry, another item under close sibling scrutiny, was dropped from her hands. Giulia turned from the wall and smirked unconvincingly at Alberto's palms outstretched along the top of the dresser, practically leaning on it for dear life.

He tried to clear his throat, but it was dry. Everything in his room was dry. The towel from the night before was cast under his bed, stiff as old citrus. The empty glass behind him, the tiny ring of water that clung to the bottom now dried up. Definitely what had happened hours before had nothing to do with what was already drying inches below his belt. God, he needed a shower to scrub off the memories. No, sear them off his skin.

Stop. Don't think of that.

"No! I, uh--" Alberto closed his eyes, opened them, closed them again, that headache never seeming to go away. "I don't...like...the boats."

That was mostly true. He just didn't like some boats in particular, the ones that hunted down sea monsters and pried the scales from their bodies as if they were gold flecks. He didn't mind giving up the salty nighttime breeze for peace of mind. What he didn't want to sacrifice, however, was the lingering (stifling) smell of Luca's scales clinging to his bedsheets and in the bathroom, with the door constantly open, a heady ocean candle that was never snuffed out.

"Pfft! You liar, you basically live on a boat you work so much. What about it could you possibly not like?" She tried a new tactic, no longer rooting through article after offensive article of boyish mess, and instead picked apart the uneasy smile in Alberto's upturned lips, evident in the sweat along his temple.

Her dark eyes roamed over Alberto, looking up at the wall then back down to his sprawled arms and aching shoulders, realization dawning. "You're...stalling! Hah! Think changing the subject will do you any good when you're around me, eh?"

Giulia marched over to Alberto, who even hunched back to conceal the contents of the dresser was taller by a few inches.

"You're hiding something, aren't you?" Giulia whispered, her voice once dripping with an easygoing slyness that only came with being siblings. But now, she steeled her eyes over Alberto's shoulder, freckled and tanned and nicked with fishing scars, searching but said nothing else.

Alberto slid his tongue along the rough roof of his mouth, tasting salt. He winced at Giulia's tender fingertips brushing over the top of his shoulders to reach for something outside of his vision, but by the feather-light intake of breath that Giulia did a poor job at hiding, he knew exactly what she had found. One photo turned to two, then three, and soon Giulia was thumbing through all of them like the old card deck they always managed to misplace on late nights.

"Luca," Giulia murmured softly, the polaroids pinched between her shaking fingers. She said his name, and the grapefruit that Massimo had held in his bare hand came to mind, suddenly. His name sounded sweet as she said it, peeling back the shocking rinds to a much more bitter discovery, the picture wrapped in a thin little fruit membrane that Giulia had torn apart and dove in hands first to pick out the seeds. She said his name, and Alberto bit his tongue, waiting, waiting. The salty tang was met with the quick release of blood as he chewed on his lip, not caring for the sting but more so for the way the air in the room stood still.

Giulia was sitting on the bed now, and Alberto was still sprawled out along the dresser, feeling time rush back in to greet him. The window was still closed. The bath towel peeked out from hard bedframe, sage fabric frozen in place, silently screaming if Alberto could guess. All of the warmth in the room flooded to Alberto's face, his flushed cheeks burning so hot he covered them with clammy palms. This wasn't happening...

The dizziness in his brain had subsided, at least for now. Pushed to the side. "I...uh...I think I can--You aren't afraid, are you?"

Giulia opened her mouth, speaking silent demands. The pictures were still in her hands. Though she was shaking and casting their glossy film over Alberto's pleading eyes. He took a step to her, and she held up a hand--the one that wasn't clutching the polaroids. Holding Luca. Così bello, Luca.

"Take me to him."

"Huh?" Alberto skittered back, eyeing the photos but afraid to take them from her hands, gently thumbing through them again like she was seeing the glossy scales and bright eyes for the first time. "I don't know...uh, I don't know what you're asking, Giulia," Alberto breathed, itching to take the stack of photos. Giulia sensed her brother's restlessness and stood up to place them into his trembling hands. They fit perfectly into his palms, and he carded through the five with a fond smile he quickly abandoned when realization hit him and Giulia was, there.

"Saying they were just a myth, Alberto?" Giulia brought all of the photos together carefully, choosing not to see Alberto's eyebrows shooting up into his head of curls but at the rows and neat edges she'd made. "But oh, wow, Luca. So...much different that what Papa says about sea monsters. He's so..."

Alberto's heart sped up. "Beautiful?" Was he even allowed to say that? What would she think?

Giulia nodded, flashing an appreciate grin but still indecisive.

"That's okay, Alberto," She wrapped her hands over Alberto's, a pillar to his crumbling resolve, and put her chin against his collarbone to still him. She sighed, a rumbling breath into his ribcage, and he felt his chest lighten. "It's okay to think he's beautiful."

Alberto didn't think he could get a word out, with his sister's hair inches from his nose, filling his head with soothing, sleepy smells. She had stuck a stem of lavender from the vase in the kitchen behind her ear.

No it's not.

"Shhh, fratello. Just don't think for a moment, si?" Giulia took the photos again and put them in her pants pocket, then wrapped her assuring arms around Alberto's neck as he let out a soundless cry. "You're okay."

Alberto buried the bridge of his sunburnt nose into Giulia's hair, the tiny periwinkle flower buds tickling his cheekbone.

"The lavanda in the vase, you bought that? It...was for him, wasn't it?" Giulia murmured to distract, petting the side of his neck to calm him down.

"...He couldn't keep it. The petals would float to the surface." His words came out sniffled and ugly-sounding, making him cringe but also hold in a laugh imagining Luca bringing a bouquet of flowers underwater just to see them all rush past his wide eyes to the surf above.

Giulia snorted and laughed against his chest, and soon Alberto was chuckling softly along with her. "Let's go see il tuo cuore, okay?"

"You're serious?" Alberto readjusted the lavender stem in her hair. "Giulia, this is like the total opposite of how I thought this would go."

She took his hand tenderly and went to the door, but not without a whiplash turn of her head, cocking one eyebrow in defiance. "What, did you expect me to reach for the nearest harpoon? Like everyone else in this town? I don't think so." She tapped her forehead, smirking. "Open mind, dummy."

Alberto squeezed her pinky finger. "Okay, you were so sweet a second ago. What happened?"

"Lots of things, big guy," Giulia clicked her tongue and pulled Alberto's hand closer. "But that vase on the dining room table, those flowers. That's how I knew. If it were a girl, you would have listened to Papa's advice for roses. But you got lavender."

Alberto sighed, fighting the impulse to tug his hand away and retreat fearfully back to his room. "If you think it's such a stupid idea, we can make tea with them. Papa got a new kettle at the market."

Giulia gave him a side glance again. "And what about Luca?"

"Fine, no tea then." Alberto stumbled on his words, choking on them almost. Would Luca...even be there? After what had happened...

He blushed and stopped, inches above Giulia's head when he stood one step higher than her, looking directly into the kitchen on his right where the vase was. Evening light spilled in the window by the sink the Marcovaldos refused to close, bathing the ornate, bottle green glass in moody flashes of color on the patched up tablecloth. A sliver of a grapefruit rind sat, hard and darkened next to the reflection of lavender stems, from Massimo's talk. Alberto swallowed the immediate flush of nausea, hating the way he could almost taste the embarrassment and worry on his tongue, inside his pores.

It was going to get dark soon.