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#still thinking about that universe where they both get to live 'normal' lives and go to school and have a parental figure and--
haechanniesluvr · 2 days
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☆donghyuck after an argument with you oneshot!!☆
☆song recommended for this fic - Y Si Fuera Ella by SHINee's Jonghyunnie☆
- small tags : established relationship, slight angst?, boyfriend!hyuck, lots of tears from hyuck:(, tears from y/n too, it's a crying party, make-up make-out, hyuck standing in the rain. -
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"Why the fuck wouldn't you tell me about this, y/n?! Hm?!" Hyuck shouted at you as he shook the papers he found hidden in your nightstand vigorously in front of you. The papers stated that you had been accepted into University of Busan. You and Donghyuck lived in a small house in Seoul, and had been doing so for 2 years. You were happy together. Seoul to Busan would mean moving, leaving everything behind, leaving Hyuck behind.
"I thought you'd be angry, and you are!" you screamed back, not allowing yourself to be reduced to nothing by him.
Yours and Hyuck's love was just like this. Rough and passionate. Everything in your relationship was passionate, from the sex to the arguing. You both were constantly overwhelmed by the emotions that would arise when being together, and you fucking loved it. You loved him.
He sighed shortly and pressed his thumb and index finger to the top of his nose bridge as he looked up momentarily, frustration pent up in his normally relaxed face.
"No, y/n, it's not that. It's the fact you didn't bother asking me if this was okay. No, no, it's not even that! It's the fact you didn't tell me you got this letter in the first place."
Hyuck's eyes had gone from sharp and piercing to teary and desperate.
"Are you.. are you going to leave me?" He whispered, his voice cracking slightly as he swallowed the lump arising in his throat. He felt like his neck and been wrapped in barbed wire, and it was being tightened from behind.
You gently padded over to him and pressed the back of his head down so he was resting his face on your shoulder.
"I don't know, Hyuckie, I don't know." You felt his chest heave, making your tears begin to drop too. His nails began to dig into you as he lifted his head, pressing his forehead to yours.
"You can't leave me here. I need you. I want you." He whispered shakily against your lips. He looked down and grabbed your hands, squeezing them. His eyes were red and puffy, cheeks painted with a rosy hue and glasses steamed slightly.
You looked down at where he squeezed your hands, thinking for a moment. Was it worth leaving the love of your life for something that could change your life? No. Your life wouldn't mean anything without him in it. But still, the thought of what could be lingered. You could study your dream degree.
"Hyuck, I'm going to leave for a while. I need to think very long and hard about what I'm doing with myself. This might be the most important decision of my life." You huffed as you slowly unlinked his fingers from yours, letting his hands droop to his sides.
Grabbing your coat, you began to walk towards the front door, grabbing your bag and hanging it over yourself. Donghyuck was walking closely behind you, muttering the words 'don't go.. don't leave' as he watched you head for the door.
You didn't get far out of the driveway before you collapsed onto your knees, rain soaking your hair and body. Bringing your hands to your face, Hyuck ran over to you and wrapping his arms behind you, sniffling. He turned you so you were crying onto his chest, not caring about getting drenched.
"No.. I can't do it, Hyuck. I can't imagine my life without you. I'm sorry.. I'm sorry.." You blabbered over and over into his chest, muffling your voice and cries. He gently stroked your wet hair, shushing and gently swaying you. You felt the droplets from his wet hair land onto your head.
"It's okay. Don't be sorry, I should be sorry.." He placed his chin on top of your head as his eyes fluttered closed.
Hyuck lifted your chin so you could meet his eyes.
"You have your dreams. I can't control that. All I ask is that you never stop loving me." He softly speaks in your ear.
You stare at his eyes, then down to his lips.
You kiss Haechan as if you had been starved. He melts into your wet touch, his tongue fighting with yours for dominance. Hyuck picks you up bridal style and shuts the front door behind you both whilst you pepper soft kisses down his neck. He groans slightly at your softness, and places you down onto the couch gently. He removes your coat, then your shirt and he replaces your bra with a towel.
He softly kisses your forehead as he removes his soaked shirt, and brings himself to share your towel.
"I love you y/n. I'll support you, no matter what you want to do. Forever."
"I love you more Hyuck."
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explodingstarlight · 9 months
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the ✨ littles ✨
belatedly realized I never posted this! so, behold, more tot!Nova content alongside @snailsnaps lovely Xor
they're besties your honor 🤝
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bratzforchris · 5 days
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Sunflowers
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Summary: Chris gets distracted easily. Like really, really easily. When he gets separated from Matt and Nick in the mall, he meets a lovely soul who understands just a little bit more than anyone else.
Pairing: ADHD!Chris x autistic!feminine reader
Warnings: Neurodivergent overstimulation, getting lost, crying, brief mentions of ableism
Word Count: 2.1k
A/N: The sunflower lanyard (pictured above) signifies that someone has a hidden or invisible disability and may need extra assistance/patience/kindness. I am not saying or assuming Chris actually has ADHD. If he doesn't, cool, if he does, also cool! This is all for fun and for diversity in the fandom<3 Enjoy!!
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ADHD was a difficult thing to live with. It was more than just the stereotype of “Oh look! Squirrel!”. It was a constant condition that caused a lot of impact on one’s day-to-day life and happiness. Chris knew this better than just about anyone. Having been diagnosed in middle school, he found himself on a constant pendulum between spaced out with his head all over the place and extra hyper. Though he was medicated for it, there were still days where his body and mind were consumed with extra hyperactivity and energy, meaning he could be easily distracted, rambunctious, and fidgety. 
Both Matt and Nick were aware of their younger brother’s diagnosis and were extremely supportive of it, letting Chris run wild when he needed to and gently reminding him to take his meds and do his other daily tasks now that they no longer lived with their parents. The youngest really couldn’t have asked for a better support system, but that didn’t mean that there weren’t days where his brain betrayed him for quite literally no reason. 
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
“Do you want your lanyard, Chris?” Matt asked as he grabbed his car keys off the hook near the garage door. 
The key rack held all of the boy’s keys and things they would need when they left the house, but it also held Chris’ green and yellow sunflower lanyard. These lanyards were a universal symbol that someone had a hidden or invisible disability and might need some extra kindness and assistance when they left their house. Chris had fought the idea at first, claiming that he didn’t need that; he rarely struggled in public. However, the change after he had agreed to try one due to Nick’s pleading to give it a shot had been immense. Strangers no longer looked at him like he was rude when he couldn’t help to butt in or play with his fidget toys as an adult, nor did shop owners hastily bat his hands away when he just wanted to touch things in stores. Of course, there were still bigots, but the improvement was more than he could have asked for. 
Now, Chris possessed his own sunflower lanyard, complete with a small card attached that read “I have ADHD. I can act restless and tend to fidget. I may act on impulse and have trouble concentrating. Please be patient and understanding.” and had both Matt and Nick’s names and phone numbers on it in case of an emergency. His lanyard also had a few pins, buttons, and pop-its on it so that the boy would always have something to fidget with. 
“It’s probably a good idea,” Nick added, coming down the stairs and typing out something on his phone. “Christmas is next week. The mall is going to be busy.”
Being triplets, Matt and Nick were incredibly in-tune with Chris and each other, and both boys could tell that today was going to be a more hyper, easily distracted day for their younger brother. Normally, they would’ve postponed busy, crowded spaces and must-do errands for a day where Chris was feeling more mellowed out, but they flew back home to Boston in just a few short days and had yet to buy Christmas presents for, well, anyone. 
Slowly thinking over the situation at hand, Chris grabbed his lanyard off the hook and placed it over his neck, but it wasn’t long until he had moved on to something else. “Do you guys think that there are triplets just like us?” he asked as Matt corralled him out the door. “But like, in China or something?”
The drive to the mall had been much longer than anticipated with all the holiday traffic, which allowed Chris more time to let his mind wander, blurting out every random thought he had as he played with the shark pop-it on his lanyard. Luckily, Nick quickly engaged the youngest in all his conversations so that Matt could focus, his own head spinning as he tried to keep up with Chris’ mile-a-minute chatter. 
“We should go people watching,” Chris announced as Matt parked their car inside of the heavily filled parking garage. “We could probably see some crazy shit. Speaking of which, did you guys see that episode of Live PD last night?”
Matt and Nick shared a glance over Chris’ head as they walked into the mall. The more Chris talked, the more he began to fidget, earning stares from onlookers, despite his lanyard. The mall was insanely crowded, which could either help or hurt. Somedays, Chris absolutely thrived in chaos, able to hyperfocus and get tasks done in record time. On others, his brain became so stimulated by chaos and change that he would shut down, often losing his ability to executive function in the process. Today was an absolute toss up. 
“Let the games begin.” Nick mumbled, grabbing his brothers’ hands and sliding through the crowds. 
As ‘cringy’ as it was, the triplets still held hands with each other in public, especially after Chris had received his ADHD diagnosis. Matt and Nick felt an almost protective sense over their younger brother, opting to help keep him safe when his brain didn’t always remind him to do that himself. 
⋆𐙚₊˚⊹♡
Things had been going fine for well over an hour now, but it was starting to become too much for Chris. They had already gotten presents for their dad and Justin, and were now on the hunt for a gift for their mother. As much as they loved and adored MaryLou, shopping for a woman as 20 year old men in a mall this crowded was a task. 
The youngest triplet was beginning to become overstimulated. His own thoughts had already been so loud and so chaotic this morning, and to add hoards of people, blaring Christmas music, screaming kids, and overwhelming smells from the food court wasn’t helping. He hadn’t meant to get separated from Nick and Chris; the boys had been poring over the jewelry counter in Macy’s when Chris dropped Nick’s hand, opting to pull his Airpods out of his pocket. Maybe if he could listen to the music he liked and that calmed him down, he could manage the rest of this trip without a meltdown. 
Chris had just slipped his earbuds in and pressed play on Life of a Dark Rose when he realized that neither Matt nor Nick was standing next to him. Not yet panicked, he looked around the floor of the department store, searching for Matt’s Red Sox hat or Nick’s blond hair above the crowd. When that didn’t work, he simply shot a quick text in their sibling group chat that read where are you guys??. Much to his discomfort, the text quickly came back with a ‘cannot be delivered’ message, making the brunette curse when he realized that the signal in the store was awful. 
“Excuse me, ma’am. Did you see where my brothers went? They have tattoos. One’s blond and has a nose ring, the other was wearing a hat?” Chris asked the lady at the jewelry counter hopefully. 
Either not noticing his lanyard or not caring, the employee turned her back to Chris, leaving him desperate. He didn’t know his way around this mall at all, his phone wasn’t working, and it was beyond crowded. How was he supposed to find Matt and Nick? What if they left without him? He couldn’t drive and he had left his wallet with Nick. How would he get home? This was just a glimpse into the anxiety that circulated through Chris’ mind whenever he became overstimulated. 
The brunette felt his eyes beginning to grow wet, cursing himself under his breath. He wouldn’t, he couldn’t cry. Not here. Chris wiped a few stray tears that were running down his cheeks and began to retreat to a quiet area of the store to contemplate his next move. The last thing he needed was for a ‘fan’ to snap a photo of him crying and overstimulated and post it online. 
The children’s toy area proved to be the perfect place for him to hide. With all the stock having been bought out for the day in the holiday rush, the department was completely empty. Chris sat down on one of the leather benches, running his hands through his hair as a stim and anxiously checking his phone in hopes of regaining signal. He was so caught up in his anxious stimming and trying not to have a meltdown, that he hadn’t even noticed someone appear beside him. 
“Are you okay? I saw your lanyard,” You offered kindly. “You don’t have to talk if you don’t want to.”
Chris looked up at you, taking in your appearance. You were absolutely beautiful, dressed in a soft, sensory friendly outfit with a purple cow Squishmallow clutched to your side. That wasn’t what caught his attention, though. What truly caught his attention was the sunflower lanyard hanging around your own neck. Glancing briefly at the card, Chris noticed it read “I’m autistic”. 
“Can I sit?” You asked, gesturing to the empty spot next to the boy. 
Chris nodded, wiping his eyes and clearing his throat. “I can’t find my brothers.” he admitted tearfully. 
“Is that who’s with you?” You asked knowingly, having been in similar situations yourself. “Do you want to call them?”
“I can’t. My phone won’t send the fucking text and they were just with me and I can’t find them. What if they left me?” the more Chris talked, the upset he became, anxiously chewing on his nails. 
“Hey hey hey, it’s okay. They wouldn’t leave you. Would you like a fidget?” You pulled a tangle from your purse, holding it out for the boy to take.
Chris stared at you for a moment before tentatively taking the toy from you, instantly focusing on the colors and movement of the plastic. “...thank you.” he whispered. 
“Would it be okay if I touched you?” You asked gently. From your own experience, you knew that it was important in situations like these to ask for consent to touch someone who was overstimulated. “My lanyard has my emergency contact on it. Does yours? Maybe we can work together to find your brothers.”
Chris nodded softly, allowing you to softly look at his lanyard and identify both Matt and Nick’s phone numbers and names. By some miracle, your phone had much better service than Chris’ did, allowing you to let both brothers know where you were and that Chris was looking for them. 
“So, tell me about yourself if you want to.” You tried to make easy conversation to take the brunette’s mind off his current overstimulation and panic. 
“‘M a YouTuber,” Chris muttered softly, highly subdued. “And I like rap music and y’know, I have ADHD.” when he saw your soft, blushy smile and attentive listening, Chris became more animated. 
“I’ve always thought YouTube would be a cool job. I’m a pet sitter. I love animals so much. They’re one of my special interests.” You nodded to your cow stuffed animal. 
Chris remembered reading about the term when he was doing some self reflecting on being neurodivergent. Although he didn’t experience them himself, he knew that they were an enormous part of being autistic, and he felt grateful that you were willing to share something like that with him. 
“How did you, um, find me?” Chris asked shyly. 
“Well, I came to see if they had any stuffed animals because I love them, but instead I found you.” You smiled, fiddling with your own fidget toy. 
You and Chris continued to chat as you waited for his brothers. The difference in his personality when you first found him to now was like night and day. He had become more animated over the course of your conversation, talking with his hands, eyes aglow. You looked up when you noticed two men who looked eerily similar to Chris walk up next to you. In your head, you connected the dots that the boys must have been triplets. The blond who approached you had a hard look on his face as he noticed his brother talking to a stranger, but when his eyes caught your lanyard, he visibly relaxed. 
“Matt! Nick!” Chris squealed, leaping off the bench and pulling his brothers into a hug. 
You watched with a soft smile, thinking the sibling’s embrace was cute until the brother in the Red Sox hat turned to you. 
“Thank you,” he told you sincerely. “Thank you for helping him.”
“It’s really not a problem.” You were becoming shy under the attention, but Chris came up and wrapped his arm around you. 
“I love her,” Chris said, before blushing as he realized what he had said. “Not like that! I…I mean…” he stuttered. 
“I’ll give you my number,” You chuckled, standing on your tiptoes and kissing Chris on the cheek. “For being such a sweetheart.”
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tags ♡:  @jake-and-johnnies-slut @chrissfavwh3re @suyqa @chrissturnswife @mbsbaby @herxysc-blog @lovingchrissposts @caffeinatedscorpio @spencereidenthusiast @crazychrisl0v3r @sturnioloxlver @whicked-hazlatwhore @blahbel668 @sturncakez @junnniiieee07 @biggesthat3r @sturniolowhore @patscorner @julesgrl @0strawberrysorbet0 @strombolilovr @matt444nixi @remussbitch @devthepoet1221 @mattyblover07 @loisnotaa @mollyquinnxoxo @graysturns @pepsicolapussy333 @ginswife @emmagirouard @athaliahxoxo @bitchydragonparadise @ilydeaky @soggyslugg169 @m00n-0n-paws @books0fever @stingerayyy2 @sunsetsturniolos @mimi-luvzyu @raysmayhem-72 @faygo-frog @oobleoob @billsslutt @aemrsy
note ♡: if you'd like to bed added to my taglist, click here <3
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🍻 PUB NIGHT W/ CALLUM TURNER HEAD-CANONS
Warnings: nsfw (minor) but still beware. mentions of callum turner’s wonderful penis, quickies, hickies, and giving him head in a bar bathroom.
This is for all my Callum girlies 🫡 This man has become what I yearn for the past month. I find him absolutely perfect and his accent is sexy and he’s so normal and down to earth and funny and I’m in love. Honestly. Special thanks to all the ladies in my Callum Turner discord chat who talked about how amazing it’d be to be his girlfriend and go to a pub with him. I hope you all enjoy & feel free to come into my ask box to yell about Callum if you feel like doing so.
Masterlist can be found here.
| photo collage created by me.
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• See, Callum’s been so busy doing promo for Masters of the Air and he’s been traveling to different cities and landing new roles. You can’t tag along everywhere; you have school or work or both but he makes sure to call you at least every morning and night and in between he’s texting you silly selfies of what he’s doing throughout the day and keeping you updated. Letting you know he’s still thinking of you even when you aren’t with him.
• He leaves Golo, his dog, with you and demands many videos of him on walks and him playing in the park. Talks to him over FaceTime and makes sure to tell him to “listen to your mum.” He’s also jealous he isn’t home to cuddle with the both of you and he tells you so.
• And when he finally comes home? Everyone is eager to catch up and see him and congratulate him on everything he’s been doing so as much as you wanna drag this man to your bedroom and keep him there, he’s an extrovert and he’s got friends and family to catch up with and projects lined up so he’s dragging you to a pub that isn’t too far from where you live.
• Not before you guys sneak in a quickie though. He takes you from the back, bending you over your make up table and blaming you for getting ready in your bra and panties. This man totally thinks you purposely shape your mouth into an ‘o’ shape to tease him when you’re doing your mascara no matter how many times you tell him it’s a universal girl thing.
• Callum hates when you wear matte lipstick because it stains his mouth and no amount of washing off in the loo will get it off. He also doesn’t like when you wear matte lipstick because you only give him pecks as you don’t want it on your teeth or staining your face.
• He doesn’t mind later in the night when you drag him to the restroom and stain his cock with your lipstick though. He loves it when you’re messy while giving him head. He loves an eager girl.
• You two are the last to arrive even though you arranged the time. There’s some goading from your friends who were all waiting for you but honestly they’re used to your tardiness, especially when Callum’s been gone for more than a couple of days.
• During your tryst he left a hickey on your collarbone and you didn’t bother covering it. Not because he’s possessive but because you loved to feel claimed by him. You don’t care if people think you look “dirty.”
• After greeting everyone he leads you over to the bar and while you wait for the bartender to approach you, leaning on the bar top, he’s got one of his large hands cupping your ass. The. Entire. Time.
• He orders a round of shots for everyone to start the night. There’s a football (soccer) game on and he makes sure to score a seat facing the television with you sat right beside him. He’s got his hand on your thigh or when his elbows are on the table and he’s gesticulating during conversation, you wrap your arms around his bicep and lean your chin on his shoulder.
• You love listening to him talk. Love how his accent thickens when he’s around his mates and it only gets worse the more drinks he has. Sometimes you have trouble understanding him but you nod along and pucker your lips for pecks when he looks to you to confirm some part of his story.
• Callum doesn’t care how many kisses you ask for or if others deem you clingy. This man enjoys all the affection and attention you give him, he loves being loved on.
• Honestly it doesn’t take long for him to say ‘fuck it’ and just pull you onto his lap. Hand on your ass/thigh to keep you close to him.
• Him and his friends talk shit to each other, rooting for opposite teams and your content just being in his presence and watching him relax because you know how much work he puts into his craft.
• The more he drinks, the redder his face gets and his chest begins to get splotchy and he starts to get sweaty but he never tries to detach himself from you no matter how hot it gets. You don’t mind the smell of his sweat or if it gets on you and you have a thing for gently nibbling on the tip of his wonderful dumbo ears as his blushed skin progresses. The first time you nibbled on his ear he thought he had to head to the loo to “take care of you”, he thought it was a sign but he soon realized it’s an affection you bestow on him when you’re drinking.
• Callum presses kisses to the hickey he left against your collarbone. Nonchalantly too, not even to draw attention to it just mid listening to a mate talk he’ll lean over to press his lips against it. You think it’s his way of letting you know he’s still attuned to you, even if he’s in conversation with someone else.
• When your friends finally manage to pull you off his lap and onto the dance floor, he stays in his seat but his attention is split between the conversation he’s in and watching you to make sure you’re okay. He trusts you and he’s confident in himself enough to not be overly possessive he just genuinely wants to make sure you’re okay throughout the night. Doesn’t want anyone spilling their drinks on you or assholes who can’t take no getting too close.
• He holds your clutch/your purse for you to make sure you don’t lose any of your items. And he never complains about keeping it safe for you.
• And you appreciate that he trusts you and lets you handle issues on your own, he truly only steps in when the person isn’t accepting ‘no’ as an answer or being a complete creep.
• You’re the opposite. You trust him but as soon as a female gets to close you make sure to stake your claim. Wrapping an arm around him or asking for a kiss, pulling him towards you and saying “come dance with me, babe.”
• He politely excuses himself from whoever was hitting on him and gives you a knowing chuckle.
• As soon as you’re beckoning him over to the dance floor he doesn’t hesitate to join you. He isn’t shy, doesn’t mind two stepping or grabbing a tight hold on your hips when you throw it back on him to a particularly raunchy song.
• He does blush a bit, but it’s hard to tell because he’s already red from the alcohol.
• You can feel the length and the girth of him against your ass when you press against him. His cock is large and thick and you get wet remembering he didn’t wipe your combined come off before he tucked it back into his jeans after your quickie.
• I will not do this man’s cock justice but we know he’s large. Everything about him is big and his penis head is probably fat, and the tip of it a bit crooked because it’s long and for more mouth watering details read Marina’s cock-versation here.
• When you turn to face him his hands immediately fall to your ass, cupping both your cheeks in his large, warm palms. Your arms around his neck, both smiling at one another all dopey and tipsy and in love.
• If there’s karaoke at the bar you both take turns dedicating a song to each other.
• Maybe even perform a duet.
• You don’t smoke so you don’t join him for any of his cigarette breaks but he only heads out after asking if you’ll be okay or if you need anything from him before he heads out.
• He comes back and wraps himself around you, smelling of cigarette obviously, but you tuck your nose into his neck and breathe deep where the smell of pure him still lies. Sweat and musky and the cologne he sprayed on.
• Callum always asks if he can kiss you after smoking because he knows the taste of cigarettes is overwhelming sometimes and you don’t smoke. Sometimes you cringe your face afterwards and it always makes him laugh. He’ll throw an arm over your shoulders and pull you in and say “sorry, love.”
• He doesn’t mind that you take loads of selfies of the two of you or photos of him or videos to keep in your camera roll. He’s always ready with a funny face or a kiss. (Or he flips off the camera - his go to pose.)
• Throughout the night, he continuously tells you how sexy you are, how pretty you look and that he knows he’s a lucky bastard to have you.
• You’re the one always making sure to order glasses of water at the end of the night. He doesn’t get drunk often and he’ll mostly stick to his Guinness, but you’re prone to waking up with hangovers after one beer.
• If you’re refusing water, he has the bar tender pour them in shot glasses and has you thinking it’s liquor. He finds you cute as hell and is watching you with a huge smile the entire time.
• There’s always a detour on the way home - a stop at your favorite pizza spot a block away from your house. If you have any of your friends with you, Callum makes sure to herd all of you like sheep and get food and water in all of you. He listens to the drunk girl conversation and goes along with anything you say.
• Once your home he helps you take off your lashes and your make up. He knows you always complain and feel bad the next morning when you sleep with it on because you break out. If you’re sober enough to do it on your own he’ll just watch you. Not wanting to get in bed until you’re in bed too.
• He makes sure there’s water on your nightstand.
• Throughout the night he’ll end up detaching from you (even though you always follow) but your first sleeping position of the night is always him curled around you as you back into him. He goes to sleep cupping your boobs because he says they keep his hand warm and he likes the feel of them. He’s a man and boobs are fun okay?
-
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finelinefae · 2 months
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everything with you
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synopsis: a simple, true kind of love
word count: 7.1k
contains: fluff, angst, cancer, brief mentions of sexual assault, allusions to domestic violence and a toxic relationship, normal people/one day vibes, boyfriend harry
a/n: posting this here because i love it so much and i was feeling emo. also have been away for a week so haven't had much time to finish writing things I'm still working on (there will be a soft girl sunday post tomorrow don't worry and i am also working on a tattoo h blurb as well !!)
. . .
October 1st 2017
Harry and Y/N met during freshers week at University in 2017. 
"Should we make out?" 
They were standing in a closet now after meeting just ten minutes ago downstairs. 
"M' names Harry," Harry spoke, sitting on the couch and looking down at his first drink of the night. He wasn't much of a drinker but also feared missing out or being seen as unordinary - at university, drinking felt like it was deemed ordinary. 
Y/N blushed, her cheeks pink from the humidity in the room and the fact that a guy was talking to her. She pulled down the sleeves of her dress to hide her shaky hands. She noticed she stuck out like a sore thumb with how she decided to dress, her long sleeves and knee-length skirt juxtaposed with every other girl in the room. 
"'M Y/N." She responded. Harry nodded, sheepish and awkward as he tried to think about something to say. 
They were sitting side by side, looking out at the other people dancing to the music that echoed through the house. "What do you study?" Y/N managed to ask and cringed at the question. Was it normal to talk about school at a house party?
"Music." He nodded as Y/N tried to think up another question despite already asking one. "What about you?"
"English." She said and an awkward silence fell between them. 
Harry eventually turned to look at her, lips parting at the natural beauty even just from looking at her side profile. Her hair was in waves that fell down her back and he thought her dress was pretty too. She had a tiny bump on the bridge of her nose that led to her plump, cherry red lips. 
She felt his gaze on him and turned her head, catching his eyes and looking down from embarrassment. He was beautiful like a living, breathing adonis. His eyes were a sea glass green and he had chestnut brown curls on his head. 
"It's a little loud in here don't you think?" Harry spoke, his voice seemed closer to her now. 
Y/N looked up and looked around at the crowd of people, "Just a little." She said, 
"Do you want to go upstairs?" He wondered if maybe it would be easier to get to know her in a quieter setting.
Y/N followed him upstairs, wondering whether he knew where they were going and if he knew anyone else at the party. She had only just met him and despite his awkwardness, her trust issues were too much for her to just relax around him. 
He opened the door and pulled her inside, "Um...Harry?"
He nodded, already guessing what she was about to say and looking down at her, "We're in a closet." He stated. 
"Yeah." She whispered, her heart racing at the close proximity. 
"I don't live here." He tried to hide his embarrassment. 
Suddenly, Y/N burst out laughing, the entire situation was something she didn't see coming and she couldn't help but laugh at the predicament. It wasn't too long before Harry began to laugh along with her, the both of them standing in the closet in hysterics. 
When their laughter quietened down, Harry looked down at Y/N. His demeanor changed as he admired her as she bit back a smile. "Should we make out?" 
Her lips parted, "U-Um-I-I've never been kissed before."
"Me neither." He murmured, he wasn't even sure why he asked, he just felt like it was something he should be doing being at a freshers party. 
Y/N thought about it for a second, she gulped down her nerves and looked at his lips before looking at him again. "O-okay." She nodded. 
She'd never been kissed but neither had he, so neither of them could complain it was a bad kiss. She thought it'd be better to kiss him now to get the firsts out of the way. 
"Okay." He released a shaky breath and slowly leaned forward. 
Y/N stood on her toes the closer he got to her, their breaths echoed around the room as their hearts raced at the same time. The tension was thick as their lips were closer to touching. It seemed strange that the first person to touch her lips was a man she had met just ten minutes ago. 
Harry reached for her hand, brushing his fingers against them and feeling how soft her skin was. Her eyes fluttered shut when he felt his fingers run up her arm, a path of goosebumps arising. Her nose rubbed against his and her eyes fluttered shut when his fingertips touched her waist. 
She had the urge to press a kiss to his jawline as his fingers danced across the skin on her arm, "Harry," She whispered, her head resting on his shoulder. 
 Everything she was feeling right now was exactly how she thought she'd feel if someone kissed her and yet their lips hadn't even touched yet.
His lips brushed against hers and eventually, she leapt up into his arms and pressed her lips to his, arms wrapping around his neck. She whimpered at the sensation of his tongue tangled with hers, her entire body felt as though it was on fire as he continued to touch her. She tugged on his hair like her hands had a mind of their own and he released a guttural groan which made her tummy flutter with excitement. 
If they were to continue, she was curious to see where things would go next but her curiosity was killed when the door opened and they pulled away from each other. 
"My bad." Someone chuckled and closed the door again. 
Harry was breathing erratically, looking down at the floor as his mind whirred. 
"I should go." Y/N was the first to talk and before he could even reply, she opened the door and left. 
February 20th 2018
Harry was late for class but he was in no rush to get there. In fact, he hoped the seminar would be over by the time he got there so he didn't have to answer any questions. He hated talking in front of people. 
He decided to take a longer walk to his seminar, going in a direction he had never gone before and hoped he would get lost along the way. 
As he pulled out his phone to change the song he was listening to, he ended up bumping into someone else. "I-I'm sorry," He immediately crouched down and picked up the books on the floor.
"I-It's fine, don't worry about it." A delicate hand touched his as they reached for the same book. 
His head perked up when he registered who the person was, the voice was the last thing he heard before he went to sleep every night. "Y/N?" He spoke before he could stop himself. 
She looked up at him, he noticed she looked different to when he had first met her. The light in her eyes looked dimmer and she seemed more on edge than when he had first met her. 
"Harry?" She smiled, standing up. 
"It's good to see you." Flashes of their first kiss came to mind and he quickly brushed them away. 
"How's the first year treating you so far?" She tucked her hair behind her ear. 
"It's been... good." He was lying but he wouldn't tell her that, not when he felt the need to impress her. 
"Oh I'm glad, we should-"
"Y/N!" Y/N stilled, her head turning to look past Harry's shoulder. Her sudden change in expression made him turn to see the person who had caused it. 
A man stood waving his hand in the air in the distance, he looked slightly older than both Harry and Y/N. "Who's that?" Harry looked at Y/N.
"T-That's Shaun." She muttered, holding her books tightly to her chest. 
"Is he your boyfriend?" He hated how the question tasted when he asked it but wanted to know. 
"Yes." She said, his heart was hurting but he tried his best not to show it. "I should get going."
She walked past him but he called her name before she managed to get away, "Here," He took out a pen and wrote on the front of the page of her notepad his number, "In case you need me."
She smiled but it didn't meet her eyes, "Thank you." 
He watched her as she walked away and didn't start to walk again until she walked around the corner. 
He couldn't help the gut feeling that was definitely going to need his number whether she wanted it or not.
May 15th 2018
Harry had finished his last music exam and stood in his dorm room, packing his room up since his mother would be picking him up tomorrow afternoon for the summer. 
He knew other people were out partying and enjoying the fact that the first year was over but he was too keen to get home. University hadn't treated him nicely and that was just the way it was for him. 
He hadn't made many friends besides a few in his music class, even then he wouldn't really consider them friends, mostly just people he spoke to now and then. He hadn't been to a party since the first week of freshers nor did he really want to. 
"Fuck." He murmured to himself when he could hear the vibrations of his phone ringing. He rummaged through the piles of items he had created whilst packing and eventually found his phone under a pile of clothes. 
The number was unknown but he picked it up anyway. 
"Hello?" He frowned, waiting for a response from the unknown caller. 
"H-Harry?" He stood straight and held his breath when the voice he hadn't heard in a while was talking to him on the phone. "I-It's Y/N."
I know. That was what he wanted to say but instead waited for her to carry on speaking. He wasn't sure as to why she was calling him now since he had given her his number three months ago. He spent the first few days waiting for a call from her but was always let down. 
"U-Um, I know we haven't spoken in a while b-but I really need you to come g-get me." She was on the verge of tears as she held the phone to her ear, waiting for him to say something.
Harry cleared his throat, "Are you okay?" He asked, concern in his voice as he walked to the door. 
He waited for a response, "No." She sobbed, "I'm at a party outside campus on Melville Street and I don't know anyone else." 
He stumbled over his belongings as he pulled his shoes on and tugged on his jacket. "Hey, don't worry. I'm on my way and I promise I'll be there in five minutes." 
"O-Okay," She whimpered, "Thank you...Harry." 
He ended the call and raced down the steps to the front door, running out and making his way to Melville Street where he knew all the parties were held throughout the year. He could already see a mass of people at one particular house at the end of the road and could only assume it was the house Y/N had called him from. 
He pushed his way past the other students, apologising as he did so but making no effort to stop himself from getting to Y/N. He ran up the stairs and opened the door to each room, ignoring the screeching from teenagers making out and wanting him to leave. 
Eventually, he got to the end of the hallway and faced a closet door. He slowly put his ear to the door and heard the sniffles and cries of someone behind it. Carefully, he pulled the door open and looked down to see Y/N, crying into her knees as she curled up into herself. 
He closed the door behind him and crouched down in front of her, "Hey," He whispered, not wanting to frighten her. 
She looked up, cheeks tear stained and makeup smothered which she tried to wipe away with the back of her hand. "You're here." She whimpered and wasted no time in leaping forward and wrapping her arms around him, sobbing into his shoulder. 
This was the last thing he was expecting to happen tonight but he didn't stop from holding her tightly in an attempt to squeeze the pain out of her. Sometimes people just wanted a hug and he just so happened to be the only person who could give that to her right now. 
"What happened Y/N?" He looked her in the eye and was brought back to the first time they were in a closet together. He wished he could go back to that time or at least be with her now under different circumstances. 
"It's nothing." She wiped away her tears as best as she could. 
"I don't think you would have called me of all people if it were nothing." He cupped the side of her cheek and noticed a bruise under her eye. His heart fell out of his chest when the worst-case scenario came to mind, "D-did Shaun do this to you?"
He didn't need an answer from her because the look on her face was clear enough to tell that he was right. Y/N began sobbing all over again, "How long Y/N?" Harry asked, firmly. 
She didn't answer, "Y/N, how long?" 
"Since February," She confessed in a whisper and hid herself away from him. 
Harry felt an incredible urge to walk out to find Shaun and release every ounce of his rage onto him but he also knew that wouldn't do anything to help Y/N at this moment. So he took a deep breath and placed a gentle hand on Y/N's shoulder. 
She looked up with wide, teary eyes and tried to crack a smile, "Let's get you out of here." 
She laughed breathily, "What? You don't like being in a closet with me anymore?"
He couldn't seem to find it in himself to laugh with her, "Not when you're like this Y/N."
She loved the way his voice sounded, she had been thinking about it ever since she first kissed him in the closet. Maybe that's why Shaun treated her like he did because she was lying in bed with him and dreaming about someone else. 
Harry walked out of the house with Y/N under his arm, shielding her away from the party. "Do you have anyone who can pick you up from your dorm?"
Y/N looked down at her shoes, embarrassment filling her, "I-I moved in with Shaun, he didn't want me living with the other girls and he's in his second year so..."
"Fuck." Harry said, eyes wide. 
"Yeah," She laughed, pitifully. "Feel free to name me an idiot for the next few hours."
Harry sighs, "I'd never call you that Y/N. Sometimes we make mistakes when we're cast out into loneliness by others." 
They carried on walking in silence. Y/N wasn't sure where they were going until they got to Harry's accommodation. "We'll have to sleep here for the night." 
"A-Are you sure?" Y/N was nervous, wringing her hands together. 
He didn't reply as he led her upstairs to his dorm where he knew everyone else was out getting drunk. She stepped into his room and was surprised to see the piles on the floor. It was amusing and sad to see. Each pile seemed to represent a different part of him, parts she knew nothing about, and yet he was the first person she thought about calling when she was in trouble. It felt like a cruel trick, she relied heavily upon strangers to lift her up because it was easier than being seen as weak by the people she deemed most important. 
"I've been packing, m' mum's picking me up tomorrow. It's a bit of a mess." He begins picking up things from the floor, underwear and pages of sheet music. 
"You play guitar?" She was still standing by the door.
"A bit, piano mostly." She notices the keyboard at his desk. 
"You can take the bed, I don't mind sleeping on the floor." He stands, not sure how to act with a girl in the room, especially a girl he thought about before he went to sleep.
"Why can't we both sleep on the bed?" She wondered, kicking her shoes off. 
"Y-Yeah," Harry gulped, "W-Whatever makes you comfortable." 
Y/N and Harry sat side by side on the bed and were immediately brought back to their first interaction. Except this time they didn't have the noise of the party to fill the awkward silence. 
"He didn't rape me, Harry." She whispers out of nowhere, she was crying again and he hated it. 
"I never thought he did." He lied, he did think that.
"I-I'm not that desperate." 
"I never said you were." 
"Shaun was good to me and then... I've never been in a relationship before. I didn't know how it was supposed to go." She confessed.
"I know," He knew she needed to talk about it but he also knew she didn't particularly want to. 
"Right." The sheets ruffled beside him and he looked over to see her lying on the bed with her back facing him. Her shoulders were shaking as she cried into his pillow.
Harry didn't know what to do. He wasn't good at comforting people or talking to people or being around people but he couldn't live with himself if he just sat there and watched her cry. He twisted his body and placed a hand on her shoulder. He noticed her flinch slightly but in a blink of an eye, she turned around and buried her face into his stomach, wrapping her arms around him and sobbing into his shirt. 
Harry did nothing as he ran his fingers through her hair and just let her cry for the next hour. 
"Harry," Y/N whispered in the dark, the both of them lying side by side flat on their backs. 
"Yeah." He whispered back.
"I wish I didn't leave the first time." Her confession surprised him. He thought he was the only one who thought about their kiss daily. He often thought how they'd be today if she were to have stayed. 
"Me too." He said and felt her pinkie hook around his. 
They fell asleep after that. 
June 20th 2018
It was summer and Harry was in Italy with his family. 
"Harry! Lunch is ready." His mother called from the patio as he sat in a hammock with his guitar. 
He lugged himself out of the hammock and felt a vibration in his back pocket. 
Y/N: I hope you're having a good time x
He bit back a smile, feeling giddy with the fact that she had messaged him in the middle of the day even though they'd been texting on and off since the summer began. 
Harry: Yeah it's been alright, too hot for my liking.
He held his breath as the dots began to appear as she typed out a reply.  
Y/N: Why am I not surprised? x
Harry: I've been working on a few songs whilst I'm out here though
Y/N: I look forward to being the first to hear them x 
Y/N smiled as she looked down at her phone whilst she sat in the back room on her break from working at the supermarket. He had told her once he'd never played a song before to anyone, not even his mother. She asked him if he'd ever play something to her and he immediately replied with three letters. 'Yes'. 
Y/N worked for the rest of the day and finished her shift at three thirty. She had to pick up a few things before she went back to her house where she was living with her mother and grandmother. 
She went to check the time on her phone but ended up seeing a message from Harry. 
A gasp escaped her lips when she noticed it was a voice note. It was a long time since she had heard Harry's voice. 
She reached into her bag for her headphones and pulled out the tangled mess. Suddenly a crackling sound and the heavy rain pouring in the background began to play. She waited until she could hear the gentle strum of a guitar and Harry's voice flooding her ears as he began to sing. 
There was something so comforting about his voice and a part of her felt ignited by the pure vulnerability in his voice as he sang. "Sorry, okay bye." He mumbled at the end of the voice note. 
She laughed and immediately began to type out a message. 
Y/N: It's beautiful. 
Harry: I miss you Y/N.
Her heart stuttered from the simple text message. 
Y/N: I miss you too Harry. 
July 20th 2018
"Here let me take that for you." Harry grabbed her bag and slung it over his shoulder, "I'll show you up to your room.”
"It's...big." Y/N looked at the home Harry had in Italy with his family. 
He chuckled, "You could say that."
He was in awe that she was here with him in Italy. He had invited her out when she told him she'd never been abroad before despite having a passport. After asking his mother, he bought her a cheap flight over to the Amalfi Coast and set up the guest bedroom, buying her candles and things from the nearest grocery shop.
"Do you love her?" Anne smirked whilst she stood at the door with her arms crossed, watching her son put face masks into what would be Y/N's bathroom drawer.
"No," He shakes his head. "No, I don't." 
"Okay." She said but wasn't assured by his answer.
Harry placed her bags on the double bed and gave her time to take in the house. "Is your mum home?" She wondered. 
"No, she and Astrid went to the market," Harry said.
"I can see the sea." She looked past him, out the window. 
"That's funny, since you arrived all I can see is you." He whispers, looking into her eyes. She didn't have to tell him she agreed because he already knew. 
Things between them had changed over the last month and they both knew it. Since Harry sent the song over to her, things between them were different. They spent the majority of their nights sleeping late and having deep conversations over the phone. Harry now knew more about her than anyone ever did and she knew even more about him. 
They hadn't kissed since the night they first met and Harry would be lying if he said he didn't think about it still. 
"Harry, come down and help us with the groceries!" His mother called from the kitchen. 
Y/N followed Harry down the steps where his mother and sister were. "Harry!" Astrid squealed, the six year old leaping into his arms. 
"Hey, Astrid." He smiles, putting her down afterwards and walking over to his mother. 
"Oh goodness, you must be Y/N! Harry has told us so much about you." Anne grins and goes over to hug Y/N. 
"It's nice to meet you," Y/N spoke, shyly. 
"Hi," Astrid grinned, one of her teeth missing. 
"Hi Astrid, it's nice to meet you." Y/N grinned. 
"You're pretty." Astrid hides behind Harry as she speaks. 
Harry and Anne laugh, "Why don't you take Y/N down to our beach? It's a wonderful day outside." 
"Sure," Harry nodded, putting the milk in the fridge. 
Harry led Y/N back to her room so she could get dressed into her bathing suit. "You don't have to come with us if you don't want to. You're probably tired."
"Do you want me to come with you?" Y/N asked, pulling out her swimsuit from her backpack.
"I want you to be everywhere." He smiles softly. 
She bites back a grin, "Give me a second." 
Harry walks back in once he puts his swim shorts on and halts his movements when he notices Y/N standing in front of the mirror putting suncream on. Her hair was tied back and she had removed her makeup from her face. She was wearing a black, one piece swimming costume. He could see the curve of her hips and her breasts and watched as she applied sun cream to her bare arms and legs. He didn't want to stare too long but he couldn't help but revel in the beauty of her. 
"I'm ready." She smiles, covering her body with a towel. 
"Cool." Harry gulps. 
. . .
"It's cold." Y/N shivers when she walks further into the ocean. 
"It feels good." Harry smiles, walking out into the sea. 
They stood facing each other in the middle of the ocean. "Your family seems nice,"
"They're alright," He couldn't stop looking at her. 
I really want to kiss you right now. He thought but tried to contain himself.
"Have you written any more songs?" She asks. 
"A few, I was inspired you could say."
"By who?" She wonders. 
Before he could reply, a wave knocked into them both. Y/N lost her balance and slipped underwater but Harry just managed to grab her waist and hold her before she was able to drift away. 
They both started laughing, Harry's hands were on her waist the entire time as they smiled at each other. 
"Are you going to kiss me?" Y/N wonders, Harry's breath catching in his throat, "At the party you had the same look in your eye when we were in the closet."
"Do you want me to kiss you?" He asks.
"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She says. 
He scoffs, smiling, "You can't say that you know." 
"Why not?" She bites her lip.
"Because then I'll just have to kiss you all the time." 
"I always want you to kiss me, Harry." She whispers again this time in his ear, arms around his neck and legs around his waist. 
Harry shakily exhaled and leaned his head forward. He had thought of this moment for months since the first time they met and he didn't think it would happen for a while. Y/N had told him all the things Shaun had done to her during their short relationship and he knew it would affect her for a while once they had broken up. 
She kissed his shoulder, the saltiness of the water on the tip of her tongue, before she leaned forward and kissed him on the lips. 
Harry whimpered like he had been in desperate need of her this whole time and he was finally getting what he wanted. His hands were everywhere as he tried to hold her in the ocean, she pushed his wet hair back and cupped his cheeks. 
"Y/N," He whispered over and over again, "I'd never be like him, I hope you know that."
She said nothing, just smiled and kissed him again and again and again and again. 
August 3rd 2018
"Do you think I'm a good writer?" Y/N asked, her bare chest pressed against Harry's as she finally caught her breath from opening up to him in a way only he was allowed to see. 
"I think you're a wonderful writer." He hums, releasing her hair from her messy ponytail so he could massage her scalp with his fingertips.
"Really?" She smiled up at him, he felt a tight feeling in his stomach at the sight of it.
"Yes." He kissed her sweaty forehead.
"I think you'd be a good musician." She played with his fingers. 
"Thank you." He wasn't sure what to say besides that. He knew she had faith in him, sometimes too much. 
"Harry," She started. She moved to sit up, she was naked and slouched over but it didn't phase him one bit, he liked seeing her naked, it was possibly one of his favourite things. "Y' know you're my best friend right?"
"I know that," He nods. "You tell me every day."
"I think I might be in love with you." She confesses, a sigh of relief escaping her.
"I know I'm in love with you." He admits, he'd never told anyone he loved them besides his mother and sister but with Y/N it felt different. He felt as though he was opening a part of himself that had always been locked and only she knew how to open it.
"So we love each other?" She crawls over to him, falling beside him and lying on her back, her head lolling to the side to look at him. 
His hand goes to her tummy and he rubs his thumb up and down, "We love each other." His hand slowly creeps lower. 
"Can we have sex again?" She asks, biting her lip.
He loved the way her cheeks flushed when she spoke about doing intimate things with her. Her eyes would turn a darker shade and the hairs on her arms would stand on end. 
"Y'never have to ask." He murmured and kissed her everywhere.
January 30th 2022
Harry and Y/N moved in together when they graduated. It was an easy decision and they didn't regret it one bit. 
"Morning baby," Harry hummed, kissing her shoulder and handing her a mug of coffee. She was wearing a shawl and a lace bra with his boxer shorts and he made sure to take a mental picture of her right this moment. 
"Morning handsome." She whispered, tired and achy from being at her computer for a second day in a row. 
Y/N was a writer or at least trying to be one. She was currently signed to a literary agent and was attempting to get a book published. She'd been spending the last few days going through the edits she'd been sent from her first draft. 
He placed two hands on her shoulders and rubbed his thumbs into them, massaging her shoulders and easing some of the tension. "I'm going to the studio today, wrote a few songs last night." 
"You did?" She grinned, her head turning to look up at him, "Will I get to hear them first?" 
"You know you will. You always get to listen to them first you know that." He chuckles, leaning down to kiss her. 
He rubbed his thumbs under her tired eyes as he cupped her cheeks, "Get some sleep darling, please." 
"Can I have a kiss first?" She pouts, her eyes gazing up at him.
He snickered and kissed her the same way he did when he first met her, leaving her in a daze as he left her in the kitchen and walked out of the house to get to the studio. 
"I think I want to marry her," Harry spoke aloud, his friend Mitch turning to him.
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, I want to marry her." 
"Good for you, man. She's good for you." He gives him a friendly pat on the back. 
Harry drove home with a memory stick sitting in the passenger seat of his car. He also had an engagement ring in his back pocket that he picked up on his way home. It was cheap and fake, costing him just thirty pounds, but he planned on buying her a new one when he sold some of his demos to other artists. 
When he walked through the door, he noticed Y/N was no longer at her computer. He walked into the lounge and saw her passed out on the sofa, a loaf of bread was on the coffee table with a tub of butter and a knife stuck into it. 
He sat down beside her, and she stirred. "Hi baby," He stroked her hair out of her face.
"You're home." She hummed, grabbing his hand and holding it to her chest with her eyes still shut.
"Come to bed, my love." He keeps his voice down when he speaks to her. 
"But I want to hear your music." Sleep weighed heavy in her voice. 
"Y' can hear it tomorrow darling, let's go to bed." He picks her up and cradles her in his arms as he carries her up the stairs. 
"Love you," She whispers as he lays her in bed and covers her in the blanket. 
"Love you too." He grins, lazily and crawls into bed next to her, holding her tightly. 
September 16th 2024
He's never felt pain like this.
"Where is she?" He gripped onto her mother's shoulders, looking at her with pleading eyes. 
He had rushed to the hospital, cancelling his show last minute since he was touring with the band he had written songs for. They invited him at the last minute to be the opening act for their show and he accepted despite his homesickness and desire to stay with Y/N.
"Mr Styles?" A nurse approaches with a doctor beside her. 
"Is she okay? What's going on?" He was tired before he got the phone call but now he was wide awake and wasn't planning on getting sleep anytime soon. 
"Mr Styles, we're going to need you to take a seat." The Doctor places a hand on his shoulder but he brushes it off, growing frustrated. 
"Please, just tell me what's going on." 
A sigh leaves the doctor's lips, "Miss Y/L/N has had to have emergency brain surgery."
"W-What?" He froze, unsure how to process it all.
"We found a tumour in her brain that we've had to remove, the cancer is still there but-"
He blocked out the doctor's words after that, all he seemed to hear were the words 'surgery' and 'cancer'. Y/N had cancer. 
"C-Can I see her?" He had tears rolling down his cheeks. 
"She's asleep but you can go in and see her." The Doctor nods and turns to the nurse, giving her instructions. 
Everything blurred and moved in slow motion as he walked down the corridors to Y/N's room. He couldn't believe what was happening and whether or not it was real but the pain coursing through him was enough to tell him that his life had taken a turn for the worst. 
"We'll leave you alone." The nurse nods. 
Harry saw Y/N lying in the hospital bed with wires coming out of her and a bandage wrapped around her head. 
"No baby." He shook his head, "No, no, no." He walked forward and fell to his knees in front of her. 
He gripped her hand and squeezed tight, sobbing as he tried to think up ways to help her, to trade places, to take all the pain she was feeling and consume it himself. 
"You'll be fine," He whispered, kissing her cheek, "You'll be okay." All the while twisting the cheap engagement ring he had given to her before he left to tour. 
It wasn't the most extravagant engagement but it was perfect for them. Harry had taken Y/N camping for the first time but they soon realised they both hated it. It didn't help that it was pouring with rain and the tent had a hole in it. 
So, they ditched the tent and bought a cheap motel room. They had dinner at a restaurant opposite the petrol station where the food wasn't too good but they had to beat soft serve ice cream. 
Harry asked the question after they had sex in their motel room. A tangled, sweaty mess and in a haze, he just blurted out the question to which she immediately said yes and broke down crying because she loved him so much.
Later on, Y/N woke up in the evening with Harry sitting awake beside her. 
"H-Harry," She mumbled, her eyes fluttering open and close. She was very tired. 
"Hey darling," He crouched down in front of her so he was eye level with her, "M right here."
His voice always soothed her, since the very first day they met, "I'm sick aren't I?" She tears up. 
He slowly nods his head, "But you'll get better."
She wasn't so sure.
December 1st 2024
"Can we go to Italy to get married?" Y/N asked, sitting at the windowsill with a book. She was wearing a headscarf over her hairless head as the sun shone through the window. 
Harry thought she looked beautiful.
"I thought you wanted to get married here at home?" He wondered, they both wanted something simple so planned their wedding reception to be at their house in the back garden. 
She placed her book down and stood up on shaky legs. She was getting thinner the more they did chemotherapy, sometimes she could barely hold her head up from exhaustion but she was fighting her way through it all. 
She climbed onto Harry's lap who was sitting at the table writing music. "I want to go to Italy for Christmas and get married."
Harry chuckles, "I don't think people will be happy if we do all that last minute, it'll cost a lot too." 
She shakes her head, a cheeky grin on her face, "I just want it to be us two." 
He thought about it. He knew how much their families meant to the both of them and how important it was for them to be there but he couldn't lie if he said the thought didn't tempt him.
 "What about our parents?" He asked.
"Well I assume they'd be upset for a while but they'll get over it. We can have a party in the back garden just like we originally planned." She snaked her arms around him and rested her head on his shoulder, he could tell she was getting tired. 
"When would you want to leave for Italy?" He wonders and she knew she had persuaded him. 
"Tomorrow." 
December 3rd 2024
They got married where they kissed on the beach. 
Y/N was rushed to the hospital in the evening. 
May 22nd 2025
Harry was alone. 
He stood in front of the mirror adjusting his tie and tried his best not to get emotional. 
He hadn't seen her in a while but he hoped she was giving him some reassurance wherever she was.
"My boy," Anne walked in, wearing a sleek dress, "You look so handsome." 
She adjusted the lapels of his suit and cupped his cheeks, a bittersweet look on her face, "They're waiting for you." 
He nodded, glanced one last time at the mirror and exhaled. 
People were already standing in the pews of the church, some were already crying as he walked to the end of the aisle. He turned around and took a heavy breath, his hands shaky. 
"You've got this," Mitch whispered, reassuringly. 
Suddenly everyone stood up as the music began to play, waiting for the love of his life to turn the corner. 
Y/N beat cancer on Harry's birthday this year. 
He cried tears of joy and they celebrated by ordering two ice cream cakes and eating them both with just two spoons and Mamma Mia playing in the background. 
They decided they wanted to get married again with a proper ceremony since their wedding in Italy was slightly tainted by the fact she had to go to hospital. Their mothers were also adamant they had another wedding they could actually attend. 
He held his breath when she walked out in a beautiful, white dress. It was a tight fitted, mermaid dress with an open back. She was adamant about having a tight fitted dress so she could see how bloated her belly got with the buffet they had for the reception. With the chemo, she couldn't stomach a lot of food but now all she wanted to do was eat and Harry loved it. 
His eyes began to water as she walked down the aisle on her own. She didn't want anyone to walk her down the aisle because she didn't like the idea of someone giving her away. No one was giving her away because she had always been Harry's right from the beginning.
"You may now kiss the bride!" Everyone cheered as the Officiant announced it. 
Y/N leaned forward and smiled, tears down her face, "Should we make out?" She whispered. 
"Most definitely." Harry smiled and it was the happiest he had ever been in his life. 
October 1st 2027
Welcome to the world, little Matilda. 
You came into this world with sun beams coming out of you and we haven't seen the rain since.
Your mother is currently asleep and I haven't got the heart to wake her up. She never ceases to amaze me with how strong she is and I've promised her months of rest since all you seemed to do was wake her up in the night with your tiny toes and little fingers pressing against her belly. 
I've loved your mother for ten whole years now and it just adds to your perfection that you were born on the day we met. 
On the day we met, I was awkward and shy and hated people which makes no sense since we were at a party. I had no intention of meeting your mother but she was there and I thought she was the most beautiful woman I had ever seen. 
Don't worry Matilda, you are half your mother and will be just as pretty as she is. 
She was my first kiss, the first person I opened up to and the only person I wanted to spend my life with.
Except now we have you and my world before these ten years seems non-existent. 
I love you Matilda and no matter how much I say I love you, I will always love you more than that. 
You have my green eyes and your mother's little nose. I can already tell you have the imagination of your mother because you were grabbing at my fingers last night and making noises with a smile on your face. 
I promise to raise you with as much love as I have given your mother and I know your mother will love as hard as she loves me. Our house will be filled with nothing but love for you Matilda and I hope you hold onto that and carry it with you wherever you go. 
You will always be the light in our lives from now on my sweet Matilda. 
"Is she awake?" Y/N murmurs, eyes still shut.
"No, she's sleeping." Harry looks down at the little girl in his arms. 
"I can't believe we made her Harry." She smiles, cheeks pink, reminding him of the time they first met. 
It did amaze him how the person they created together was a product of their love. He didn't really think it possible to hold love in his hands until he held Matilda for the first time. 
"I love you, Harry." She whispers, holding his hand. 
"I love you too." He sighs, feeling utter bliss.
He would do it all again, he thought, the ups and downs and in-betweens, he'd do it all. 
Everything with you. 
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itsprashimusic · 4 months
Text
A Barnes Birthday
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Summary - You are celebrating baby barnes' birthday, which is on the same day as your husband's birthday.
Pairings - Bucky Barnes x wife!Reader
W/C - 1.3k
Warnings - fluff, little cussing...i think, no use of y/n, your baby's name is not mentioned, neither is there any description of you or the baby. let me know if i missed anything. Happy reading<3
Masterlist | Navigation
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At around 4 am you awoke, bursting with excitement. It was your baby's first birthday. And also, one of your husband's. It was difficult for you to fall asleep in the first place, so you thought you might as well get up from your light, restless sleep and get things ready for the day.
Knowing Bucky, he would most likely be knocked out asleep by now and wouldn't wake up till around 8:30 - 9 am. Normally your husband tends to be a light sleeper, but off late he has been sleeping like a log and you hope that carries on to tonight as well. You prayed to the universe he would not wake up when you silently moved out of bed.
First things first you freshened up, ate a quick meal and started decorating the house. Thankfully earlier in the day your baby managed to exhaust himself to a point where he would sleep the whole night without waking up once. You got streamers and balloons out of a box. Some easy to clean up confetti. You gritted your teeth as you tried to move the heavy couch around. You strong husband would have been useful here if this wasn't for his birthday.
You gave up on trying to blow the balloons and decided to bake the cake to get rid of some steam. Figuring out what Bucky would like was not that hard. Ever since Oreo came out, he has absolutely loved it. And with oreo having so many variations now-a-days than just biscuits, it's been the only thing Bucky eats when he wants a snack. Not the healthiest option but the man likes it and needs to eat.
You found a very simple oreo cake that you could make. You got started on making it. Flour, milk, butter, oreo biscuits obviously. By around 6 am the cake was in the oven getting ready. With nothing left to do, you got back to decorating. But there was an issue. You still needed to move the couch to another location.
At that exact moment your phone started ringing loudly. You ran to the kitchen and answered it, mentally kicking yourself for putting in on vibrate. You just hoped Bucky had not woken up. Thankfully he had not. Putting the phone to your ear you whispered-yelled into it, "What?!"
"I get it that you forgot to put your phone on silent?" Sam chuckled on the other side of the line. You blew an irritated breath out as you rolled your eyes. "Yes, I did. You need something Sam, cuz I'm kinda busy with trying to move my heavy ass couch."
"How about you open the door first and then we can figure out if I need something."
You moved from the kitchen to the front door and opened it to reveal a smirking Sam Wilson on the other side. You lowered the phone from your ear, cutting the call. "You son of a-" you say shaking your head a bit, a smile making it way onto your face. You both go in for a quick hug and you invite him inside. Not that he needed the invitation. He practically lived there at this point.
"What are you doing here at this ridiculous hour in the morning?"
"Helping you prepare for a double-birthday party." You didn't know how any man could be as generous as Sam Wilson. It was just a little past 6 in the morning and here he was in your house ready to lend a helping hand in getting your home ready for a birthday party. You smiled a grateful smile and told him about the couch and where you needed help in moving it. He hung his jacket on the coat hanger and got to helping you with whatever you needed.
You left in the middle to bring the cake out of the oven and let it cool. By that time the couch was moved along with some more furniture, balloons were hung and so were some streamers. With the extra help you were able to have the house decorated by 7 am with snacks and everything else ready. That was when you heard some cries coming from the bedroom. Realising that your son was awake, you quickly headed to the room to sooth him before Bucky woke up with the sound.
Bucky was dead asleep. A small part of you was worried with how deep his sleep was, but you knew it meant he was sleeping peacefully. "Hi my baby!" you greeted your son with a soft voice. "You're awake, yes. It's your first birthday." you said while cuddling him. He needed that after he woke up. His cries died down; he was wide awake and cheery. "Yes, its papa's birthday too. We'll wish him later, first let's get you ready for this double birthday."
You got to work bathing him and dressing him up in some adorable but comfortable clothes which would be easy to clean. Sam had headed back to his place to freshen up a bit before your son woke up. It was now past 8 am and you were getting dangerously close to when Bucky would wake up. You took 20 minutes for yourself to look presentable since there would be photos.
Bucky woke up just as you finished changing your clothes. "Doll?" he called out when you weren't found in his sight. "Coming." you replied and walked out of the closet he had built for you. Before fatherhood, Bucky had a big passion for construction. It kept him busy, allowed him do something for you and learn some new skills in the process.
"Happy birthday honey." you say with a smile. "How old are you turning today?" you joke, tilting your head to the side. He opened his arms and pulled you in for a hug. "Ha ha very funny. But thank you." saying the first part with mock annoyance, he pulled away and just stared at you for a good 10 seconds before he asked, "Where's the little one?" You said nothing and just smiled, gesturing him to follow you.
You jogged out of the room making him chase after you. You pick up your son who was waiting with Sam in the living room and stood there waiting for your husband. He walked in and Sam set off a confetti popper in his face which surprised for a second but then he hugged Sam. Bucky pulled back, looked around and then at you holding your son. You took the baby out of your arms and kissed him all over his tiny adorable face.
Bucky wasn't a man of many words and preferred to show his gratitude in actions rather than words. He pulled you close and just kissed the top of your head. You left his side when Sam came closer, "Happy birthday man, and happy birthday little man!" You then came out of the kitchen with the cake and lit candles and set it down on the table. In the moment Bucky couldn't be any more grateful for his little family. You, his son and Sam. They were his motivation for everything he did.
The candles were blown out and the cake was cut and fed to everyone. Your son got to devourer whatever cake was left on an already dirty towel laid on the floor. Sam played the role of a photographer for free, only because it was his nephew's birthday.
"it's been a year already." you say.
"Time flies fast, no?" he held you by his side as you both watch lovingly as Sam plays with your son. Bucky still remembers the time when you were pregnant with him, the random cravings you would have and the mood swings from time to time. There were a few hellish moments, but they were all worth it. Reminiscing about the past only made you more appreciate the present moments even more and anticipate the future.
"Happy birthday once again J."
Bucky didn't reply. But he did kiss you deeply.
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A/N - this has been sitting in my drafts since 2022😐 I wanted to get this out. It started as a random idea which took me forever to write. Hope you enjoyed reading.
If you want to find out more about me or my works, you can head to my navigation.
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lolottes · 5 months
Text
amity park in the non-ghostly chaos after the departure of the youngest fenton
The situation with the GiW had gotten worse. Even Vlad was starting to get sniffed at by them after the GiW heard things about Vlad election.
The three halfa came together, despite the tension between them, for a common plan.
Danny couldn't leave until the gate closed.
Vlad couldn't leave while he was still attached to Maddie
both were endangering the halfa's secret existence and so Dani was worried. but she owed Danny a favor.
Danny was going to tell these parents, without transforming himself, just making his eyes shine at the end. If it goes well, so much the better! they will have help for the rest of the plan!! Otherwise Vlad would intervene to prevent the worst while sending a message to Dani who would trigger the Fenton sensors and pretend to be Danny Phantom and Vlad intervene immediately physically.
Why? Vlad thought it was the best way to make the parents believe that Danny had only tested them and that they had failed.
…What happened
Maddie didn't hesitate to shoot Danny when Danny's eyes started to shine. Then the detector distracted her while Danny ran. The Parrent duo followed Danny BUT were stopped by Vlad, who argued with them, taking out a bottle of shiny green ecto contact lens while taking out custody waiver papers which a still very tunned Jack signed while declaiming that they were coming to show where their priority was and it was NOT Danny and his well-being!
when Maddie? ... she didn't stay to listen to Vlad and went running after Dani Phantom.
Suffice it to say, Danny wasn't entirely happy with this "little" addition to the plan on Vlad's part, but it worked, vlad knew how to put pressure on people to sign his papers after all, he did not succeed in the business world ONLY thanks to his ability to own people. These parents seemed to question themselves or at least jack but Danny no longer had enough confidence to stay at Fenton Work. Vlad convinced them to close the portal. In any case, even if they had refused, Vlad would have just sabotaged the machine without blowing up the whole neighborhood, he has the knowledge to.
Once that was done, Vlad and Danny no longer had any ties to Amity Park other than friendships and the position of mayor. After all, Maddie reacted like that to her son ... so Vlad resigned himself, he didn't think that Maddie would be the one who would react ... react like this and not even stay to hear all his talk....
Danny chats with his two best friends and these two both intended to aim for Gotham University knowing that it was the best choice of city for the three of them. So they would meet again, just for a few years of long-distance friendship.
Danny even told Valerie what happened, without the part where he was Phantom, although some implied that Valerie was thinking about the implication for her. Danny didn't insist.
Dani decided to stay a little longer at Amity Park. After all, if Danny Fenton and Danny Phantom moved at the same time, it wouldn't have been for the best.... But Vlad threatened, she won't stay at Amity Park for long, Vlad will officially adopt Dani but he had better be correct! otherwise she will run away!!!
Danny and Vlad move to Gotham after Vlad's resignation speech on the importance of family over career and another snap election.
Dani, under the title of Phantom, warned the few Danny "enemy" arriving at Amity Park without any portal of the situation. But the closure of the fenton and vlad portals caused ghost attacks to drop sharply. Soooo, Val asks Dani about the situation and listened about the fenton portal....
and valerie was not silent about this sudject!
She was also very verbal at school, like it was normal that he was always so tired! he had to sleep above the point of ghosts entering the living world!! he who was so afraid of the slightest ghostly appearance!!! how do you want to sleep like that?!? why didn't anyone visit the Fenton home with Danny's grades dropping and falling grades! his overall change in behavior!!! In hindsight it was normal that Jazz was so mature if she had to hold the bar !!! why had no teacher sounded the alarm! What do you mean, Mr.Lancer, you did it but it didn't work? !!! How? or did it block?
Quickly Vallerie was not the only one to search and ... it was Tucker who said the passing remark that ignited things: Maybe it was the government that didn't want the only designer of anti-ghost weapons to be distracted from their work after they signed their government contract
----
Meanwhile, Danny was preparing for the first gala as Vlad's child in the mansion of the richest family in the city and in the top three in the world.
no pressure
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woso-dreamzzz · 6 months
Text
Interviews
Hardersson x Child!Reader
Part of The Big Adventures Universe
Summary: Your Momma and Morsa sometimes have to talk to people on a screen for their job
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Sometimes your Morsa and Momma don't play football for their jobs.
Sometimes they had to sit at a table with a computer and talk to people on the other side of it.
It was pretty boring so you like to sit under the table and play with your toys, leaning back against Momma's legs to let her know that you hadn't disappeared.
(You had done that once and Momma had burst into tears when she found you at the vending machine with Caroline Graham-Hansen.)
"Of course, you're both role models for girls individually and as a couple but also to working mothers as well. I know that your daughter was living in Germany with you, Pernille, but how has the move been for her?"
"It has been good," Pernille replies with a smile," y/n is still quite little so she's adapted pretty well to everything. I think Magda is the one that was thrown for the first few weeks."
You vaguely hear your name, muffled from where you're hiding under the table. You shuffle closer to Momma on your bum, peaking out from your hiding spot.
Both Momma and Morsa are smiling at the computer.
"As Pernille said, it is good," Magda continues," It is nice to be here, together as a family. y/n is getting to that age now where everything is new and shiny and she's just beginning to understand that Momma and Morsa get to kick a ball around for ninety minutes and win medals."
The interviewer laughs. "And is she a big Chelsea fan?"
Magda laughs as well, shaking her head. "We have only just got her to stop calling it 'Not-Wolfsburg'."
You hear Morsa say 'Wolfsburg' and your interest is renewed. You shuffle out from under the table, on your hands and knees.
The table your parents are sitting at is very tall and you're very small so your forehead barely peaks up over it. You stand in the space between Morsa and Momma's seats and lean forward on your tiptoes - just about tall enough now to be able to peer over the table.
There's a woman on the screen with a microphone. She looks nice but she's speaking English and she's a stranger (Morsa always tells you to be careful around strangers) so you don't really like her on principle.
"Oh, hello there. It looks like you have a little visitor."
Your English has gotten a lot better now - you understand everything she tells you.
(Momma always says you are like a sponge with languages because sometimes at home you flip between Swedish, Danish, German and English when you forget a word in one of your languages).
Morsa turns to look at you, smiling. Her big hand comes to rest on your head, ruffling your hair. You smile back and pass her your favourite stuffed swan before you clamber up into Momma's lap.
She grabs a hold of you securely, moving the chair so you're both tucked in properly and there's no chance of you falling.
"That's a pretty jersey," The woman on the screen says.
You look down at yourself, pinching the emblem.
Momma bounces her knee up and down as she rests her chin atop your head. "What do you say, princesse?"
"Thank you," You say shyly," S' Momma's Not-Wolfsburg jersey."
The adults all laugh and you frown.
You're not entirely sure what you said was funny.
Adults are weird sometimes.
"Is it a competition? On whose jersey she ends up wearing?"
"Usually, yeah," Magda says, looking at you and Pernille fondly," We have had to start dressing her in normal clothes so we don't argue but it's media day today so we thought that she should probably represent the team."
"And how did you decide today?"
"Rock, paper, scissors," Pernille replies.
"Pernille cheated!"
"I did not!"
"She did. She distracted me with y/n before we played."
You giggle as your Morsa pulls a funny face at you and makes your stuffed swan kiss your face. Momma presses a kiss to the top of your head as another peal of laughter escapes your mouth.
"Now, before I let you all go. y/n what's the best thing about living in London with your mums?"
You cock your head to the side for a moment. "Er...Morsa does my hair all pretty and Momma makes nice breakfast! And-And they have a big bed! Sometimes, Momma gets me up in the morning and lets me sleep in the big bed with Morsa!"
You continue to ramble on, more than happy to talk about your favourite subject, only tapering off when your tummy grumbles.
Momma checks the fancy watch Morsa got her for their anniversary.
"It looks like it's lunchtime for the princesse. Can you say goodbye, y/n?"
"Bye!" You smile at the woman on the computer and wave, allowing Momma to place you back on the ground and Morsa to hand over your toy.
As they log off, you grab Morsa's hand.
"We have lunch now?"
"Yes, princesse, we'll have lunch now."
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immoralkombat · 8 months
Text
feeling(s)
Kenshi has been blind for maybe an hour or two.
Johnny looks over at him with sympathy. He's not sure what he could possibly do or say to make things seem any less bleak for him. The man was just trying to get his family's heirloom back and now, after months of training and dedication, one of his five senses is gone permanently through no fault of his own. If Johnny were in Kenshi's position, he's sure he'd be feeling just as desolate, if not more so.
Kung Lao is sitting in the far corner, talking to Baraka. He seems genuinely fascinated by Tarkat as a disease. Were Johnny not in the same situation as them, he would find that particular conversation topic a bit morbid. Right now, it's really all they have to talk about. They've already exhausted all the small talk options you normally go through when first meeting someone. They might as well start talking about the disease that'll eventually kill Baraka.
The salve on the cloth seems to have worked a little, because at least Kenshi isn't moaning in pain every few seconds anymore. Not that it makes things significantly more cheerful, but it does help the atmosphere a bit.
Johnny taps on his knees as he sits, eyes darting between looking at Kung Lao and Kenshi. He's kind of in between where the two have sat themselves, a visual and metaphorical median between the two ways one could possibly react to getting imprisoned by a sorcerer that's almost 100% going to kill you. (To be fair, there isn't much that connects the points of "casually talking about a stranger's terminal illness with them as though you're both standing by the office water cooler talking about whatever hit TV show is airing these days" and "rocking back in forth in the corner about how a different terminally ill stranger took your eyes and you have nothing left in this world." Johnny supposes the best middle point is "looking anxiously between your two co-workers and not saying anything because Jesus Christ, what the fuck are you supposed to say in this situation besides aforementioned terminal illness.")
He really wishes that Kenshi still had his eyes, because every time he looked at Johnny, it always seemed to make everything feel okay.
Johnny thinks for a second and then scoots closer to Kenshi. It's only once he accidentally bumps up against Kenshi's foot and scares the living shit out of everyone in the cell that he realizes he probably should've given an audible cue that he was going to be approaching the newly blind guy.
After Kenshi's done having a mini panic attack over the sudden Hollywood A-lister jumpscare he's gotten, Johnny looks at him and asks, quietly, "Do you want to hold Sento for a bit?"
Kenshi turns to face him and even underneath the newly christened blindfold, Johnny can tell that Kenshi is looking at him with the most surprised and reverent eyes in the universe. The kind of look that you'd get and say "fuck this stupid sword, I'd pay $3 million just to get this guy to look at me like that again."
Kenshi's mouth opens as though he's going to say something, but it shuts again before any words or sounds can come out. He opts to nod in response and Johnny takes the scabbard from off his back, holds it in his hands gently and passes it to Kenshi. Their fingertips graze one another, a way to indicate that the blind man is in the right spot. The touch sends crackles of electricity through Johnny and he wonders if Kenshi feels them too.
It's like the tattoos on Kenshi's hands are swirling around him, colors dancing in front of his eyes. It's more beautiful than any lame fucking Disney movie ever could be.
The yakuza's voice is hoarse as he says "Thanks." It's so small that Johnny can almost see it breaking in the air. He wants to put his hand on Kenshi's and tell him that things will be okay, that he's going to pay for a sight companion, any kind of corrective surgeries he wants, whatever it takes. He wants to tell him that he's still just as strong and fierce and goddamn handsome now as he was before. He wants to kiss him so fucking badly it makes his entire being ache.
He settles for saying "You're welcome," and then sitting next to Kenshi in silence.
He watches the way that he holds Sento in his hands, feels every single nick in the scabbard, every single imperfection. It's the first time in Johnny's life that he's ever wanted to be a sword and, if he keeps hanging out with Kenshi after this, (which he hopes he can), it almost certainly won't be the last.
Johnny wishes that Mileena had taken Kenshi's tear ducts with her after she'd stabbed his eyes out, because the short sad sobs that wrack through his body are almost too much to bear witness to. When he cries, it moves through his entire being. It sends a shockwave from his gut upward, makes him lurch his shoulders forward and hug himself.
"H-Hey, what's wrong?" Johnny asks. He knows it's a stupid fucking question, obviously everyone knows what's wrong, most of all the guy it happened to. But it's all he can think to ask as he watches Kenshi continue to awkwardly jerk alongside his cries.
Kenshi's head turns to face Johnny. From beyond the thin red cloth that covers his eye sockets, Johnny can feel them boring into him.
"Cage, could I touch you? I want to remember what your face looks like."
If Johnny were operating on his full mental capacity, he would probably explode at this question. He would become the fireworks they popped last night at the banquet over their heads as they feasted. He would be attached to one end of a fuse with Li Mei holding the other end, readying herself to spark it and send him to the stratosphere.
"Y-Yeah, of course you can, Ken-doll. Just make sure not to damage the goods - people pay good money for this mug to show up on their big screens."
The smugness in his voice would normally earn him a "tch" or a groan, (or an eye roll), from Kenshi. Hearing him chuckle under his breath makes his heart soar.
He turns his face toward him and waits, but no touch comes. His eyes close, he anticipates the electricity to come back... and instead he hears Kenshi clearing his throat awkwardly.
Johnny opens his eyes and finds that Kenshi's still got his hands on Sento. He tries not to be jealous of the sword again, but as with any other time he's tried not to be jealous of someone or something that has what he wants, he fails miserably.
"Could you get closer, Cage?"
"Not the first time I'm hearing that question, won't be the last. How close you need me, handsome?"
The words come out before he can even process them. Jesus Christ, is he really that much of a disaster that he can just openly call a guy he's been crushing on for at least a month handsome without even thinking about it? He's a fucking mess. His wife left him and now he doesn't know how to act. She was gonna be the only person he'd ever be able to trick into loving him and now she was gone.
"I'm going to turn, and I suggest you do the same. I want to be facing you. You can sit with your legs touching mine if it helps."
Great, now Kenshi has a colorful blindfold that also serves as a perfect swatch for the shade of red Johnny's face turns every time the man says something that's totally fucking normal for two people that are acquainted with one another.
Johnny does as he's told, because if there's one thing he's good at, it's taking directions. (Ignoring literally every single major motion picture he's ever been in, every statement he's ever made to the press after consulting his legal teams and public consultants, and generally living life up until this point.)
His knees knock against Kenshi's and it takes him aback for a second, how giddy and childish the butterflies he feels in his stomach are. Getting to know Kenshi was so simple. He wishes he had just taken a second and been less of a dickwad back when they'd first met, because maybe then it'd be easier for him to grow a pair of cajones and tell Kenshi that he doesn't spend a single night without thinking about how much he wants to trace the tattoos on his hands and arms. Maybe if he had just given Sento over, it'd be easier to admit that the low rumble of Kenshi's voice does something to stir up the pool of heat in his stomach that he thought had been long since gone after getting married to Cristal. Maybe if he hadn't tied Kenshi to one of his kitchen chairs, it'd be easier to ask him if kissing washed-up celebrities was something he'd be interested in doing.
"I'll put my hand out, you lean forward to match it."
Kenshi's palm is extended and it takes every ounce of willpower in Johnny's aching body to not press his lips against it. He leans forward until his cheek is lightly touching the yakuza's hand.
He must be hearing things, because he swears he hears Kenshi's breath hitch when they make contact for the first time. Nah, surely not. Must've been the wind.
If Kenshi's senses are heightened because of the loss of his vision, then Johnny's senses are heightened because of the gain of his touch. He purses his lips together to stop from letting out some sort of obscene sound as he feels Kenshi's hand slowly smooth over his cheek. He thanks whatever fucked up Gods exist other than Liu Kang that he finally got on that moisturizing routine that he learned off of TikTok three months ago.
As Kenshi's hand slowly feels out every angle and curve of Johnny's face, his thoughts rush a mile a minute. He wonders if he should've done a closer shave today - maybe his stubble is gonna be too sharp and it'll hurt Kenshi and leave him with little cuts or rug burn on his pretty perfect wrap-around-my-throat-please hands. He wonders if his nose is too big. He wonders if he maybe should've invested in hair plugs after that one weird SNL dropout made a comment about his weird square hairline back when he guest starred on the Comedy Central roast of Megan Fox. He wonders if his eyes are too small or too large or too close together or too far apart. He wonders if he should smile so Kenshi can feel his dimples.
"Yep, it all feels just like how I remember it. Although the stubble has gotten a little longer."
That is certainly not the answer he was expecting to hear.
His voice is small, barely there, as he chokes out his question. "You remember what I look like?"
Kenshi nods. "I do."
Johnny goes to open his mouth to ask, "Then why did you ask to touch it if you already knew?"
But then Kenshi's fingers are on his lips, tracing them with the reverence he'd have holding Sento, and for a moment, Johnny finally thinks he's better than that stupid fucking sword. His smile has the same curves, the same edges. The only difference is that Kenshi can't accidentally hurt himself this way. (He can, however, accidentally hurt Johnny. But even that would be better than the alternative, he thinks.)
Kenshi's thumb is on his bottom lip, the rest of his hand now holding Johnny's chin. If he tilts it up even one degree, Johnny thinks it'll be over for him, that he'll be kissing Kenshi before he can even think to stop himself. He'd always had poor impulse control - why else would he have spent $3 million on a fucking sword to hang up in his living room?
"These are the same, too. I'm glad you weren't hurt in the fight, Cage."
Johnny feels so fucking overwhelmed. He wants to ask so many things. First of all, what does "these are the same, too" mean? Second, why does he care about the guy who bought his fucking family heirloom and refuses to give it back? Third, why does he insist on calling him Cage like one day he won't end up calling him Johnny and breaking his heart? Fourth, what in the goddamn fuck does he mean about Johnny's fucking lips being the goddamn motherfucking same?!
Johnny decides to play it up like he always does. "Well, 'course. Gotta keep my pretty mouth. It's what makes the big bucks. I wouldn't be the same without it."
Kenshi smirks, and thank Liu Kang's weird god siblings that he's blind right now, because Johnny is beet red, mouth agape, with his eyebrows raised (and he's fairly certain that something else also rises).
"That's true. You would not be the same without that infamous mouth." Kenshi accents the compliment(?) with a playful slap to Johnny's cheek, and then his hand is withdrawn entirely, leaving an empty ghost where he should still be holding Johnny's face in his hands.
He bites back the urge to immediately ask if Kenshi wants to know just how infamous the mouth is, and settles for clearing his throat and moving back to sitting against the wall next to Kenshi.
He looks over at him after he's gotten calmed down. His heart is still jackhammering against his ribs, but as long as Kenshi can't feel his pulse, he doesn't have to know. Kenshi seems to sense Johnny's eyes on him because he turns to face him, red blindfold all that stands between the gaping holes where Kenshi's eyes used to be and Johnny's gaze full of adoration.
The yakuza grabs Sento from his lap and hands it back to Johnny.
"Thank you. I appreciate you letting me hold it. And I appreciate your help in grounding me back to reality."
Johnny nods, taking Sento back and putting it where it so wrongfully deserves to be, strapped against Johnny's sore fucking back.
"No problem. Lemme know whenever you get the urge to feel out what an Adonis looks like, I'm happy to oblige." His comment is a means to an end. He plays up the egoism to ignore the shock that courses through him as Kenshi's fingertips touch his one last time.
He resolves then and there to give Sento back as soon as they escape from here, and they will escape.
This cannot be the last time he feels Kenshi's hands on him.
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Baraka whispers, about as well as he can without lips or an inside voice, "Do they not realize how much they yearn for one another?"
Kung Lao shakes his head, putting a hand on Baraka's shoulder and immediately regretting it once he feels a spike tear into his palm. "They've just gotta be stupid about it for a bit longer. They'll figure it out."
"Surely their pining has to cause some sort of agony for you as well, does it not, Earthrealmer?" Baraka looks genuinely confused, or as close to it as he can get from what Kung Lao can tell.
Kung Lao hangs his head, sighing languidly. "Of course it does. But what else am I gonna do about it? Tell them? They're not gonna believe me. Trust me, they've got to figure it out on their own time, or they never will."
And as he sees Johnny's hand inch closer to Kenshi's, finally overlapping the tattoos and interlocking their fingers, Kung Lao thinks that maybe the agony won't last much longer.
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kitorin · 14 days
Text
misalignment (n).
/ˌmɪsəˈlʌɪnm(ə)nt/
the incorrect arrangement or position of something in relation to something else. "in which, mikage reo finds himself both asphyxiated and confined within the unfortunate circumstances of his first love."
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contents. mikage reo x gn!reader, unrequited feelings, no happy ending, right person wrong time (i think), reader and reo borderline drunk / wasted, unproofread misery, tiny implication at gaslighting but nothing like that happens, never written unrequited love nor experienced it (can't get rejected if i never confess !!)
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Despite the intelligence and academic prowess he had maintained throughout his entire lifetime, Mikage Reo is fundamentally a fool; one who unwisely but desperately deludes himself as a means to remain blind to the truth.
The 'wanna hang out tonight?' text was the flame to his moth, effortlessly attracting him whilst having the full capability to incinerate his very existence, to destroy every part of him.
If years of friendship accompanied by unreciprocated feelings could teach him anything, it was that, to spend time with you, lining up was a prerequisite for Reo.
Free time for you was defined by work's leniency (which seldom seems to happen, but at least you enjoyed it), and the occasional period where you weren't obsessing over a drama or book series.
After that section of the queue, was quite literally everyone else. An invitation from you meant that Yukimiya was too preoccupied with modelling, Rin's overseas, Nagi was too lazy to respond and left you on read, Isagi's busy training, Kunigami's at the gym, and Hiori didn't have the time to travel that far.
Finally there was Reo, back up plan Reo, the friend that you could go to when no one was available; the friend you liked enough to spend time with but not enough to prioritise.
He steals a glance at you as you keenly sip from your glass. Self-hatred chews at his conscience, but the livid, and tired part of him shoos it away.
It's not a very nice thing to accuse one of thinking of another so lowly, especially a close friend, however the explicit signs of him holding little significance in comparison to others seemed to validate it. You and he have been drinking for a while now, without much word other than the 'hello's and quiet greetings when you first saw each other.
It's normal, the silence. It's just how things worked between you and Reo. Neither of you were particularly social, words weren't necessary to enjoy time together, that was one of Reo's favourite things about you.
He's always tired of speaking, having to maintain flawless image, that included appearing as someone sociable and eager to speak with others.
But with you, that expectation was nowhere to be seen.
You're now adults, but this is nothing different from the quiet walks to the bus stop back in high school. The ones where he'd do his best to steal a glance of how you look, soaked within the sunlight while smiling.
Chatter permeates the bar's atmosphere gently a few clinks of glasses can be heard which followed hearty laughter and the occasional cheer.
You're first to talk. "How's university been?"
"Good." Was the workload horrendous? Yes, and so was adulthood in general. Reo knows he has it easy; he can afford it easily and could still live comfortably without working a day in his life. But he still yearns for the same feeling high school had. "Hakuho was fun though."
You place your drink down, swallowing. "I know right? Never thought I'd say this, but I miss high school. It sucked most of the time. But you and the others made it so much better.”
Reo nods, as he gulps down more alcohol. “I miss it too. How has studying been for you?”
You huff. “It’s a lot. I feel like I spend more time studying than doing anything else. But it’s good. I don’t mind since I’m actually studying something I’m passionate about, you know?”
“I’m glad, then.” Reo stares at his whisky, swirling the amber in his glass. “Proud of you. I really am. You’ve come so far, and I just know you’re going to do well.”
Growing from a clueless high schooler to a driven, impassioned, medical student. A lot has changed, years pass yet he remains unloved by you.
God there he goes again, lamenting on his paltriness. It must be a relative of masochism; he could be safe and secure at home with a good book and cup of tea, yet he’s here drinking with the source of his pain, while tethering on the border of being intoxicated with alcohol instead of heartbreak.
With each drink, a wave of euphoria swallows him up, licking up his misery as if it were sand on the shore. Rationality and emotion bicker like seagulls quarrelling over food.
You laugh at his sweet words. “You drunk? Thanks though.”
“Drunk or not, I mean it. Seriously.” Reo knows his limits, but doesn’t bother correcting you. His face feels hot, not because of the soju, but because of you.
You’ve always been pretty, to a ridiculous extent. But absurd how a few years changes you so much. Reo can’t even identify the changes, he just knows you’ve gotten prettier; that his heart races faster whenever he sees you.
“Seriously.” You echo, and nod, and smile. “I miss seeing you every day. School was so much fun with you around.”
Another hasty gulp of soju. Reo can’t stand hearing those words.
I hate you.
Is it directed to you, or himself? Not even Reo’s quite sure. He does his best to ignore your kindness, if it were true then he would’ve been addressed you with a smile in the same way you’d speak to anyone else; he would know how his name sounds off your tongue. He would mean more than a last option, and all those texts wouldn’t be left on read, viewed out of genuine care rather than basic manners.
Even though he can go on about unfair this feels, it’s ultimately his fault for still spending so much time with you. You’re supposed to cut off the people who don’t value you. You’re supposed to only care for the ones who’d do the same for you. Reo should’ve cut ties with you long ago, yet he clings onto your relationship as if it meant more than anything else.
I miss seeing you at school everyday. Your words echo, and he does his best not to choke on his drink.
Formalities, not affection. It's not love, it's your way of manners. If you truly did care you'd be spewing those sorts of words out constantly, like when you're with Chigiri, or Anri.
"Reo? You good?"
"Yeah. 'm fine." It's a reflex, he barely had time to register the words leaving his mouth. "Are you?"
"Yah. I'm not the drunk one here am I?" You chuckle to yourself, bringing the glass back to your lips, averting your gaze elsewhere. "Were you always a lightweight? Your face is so red."
"And yours is so pretty."
There he goes, ruining your night with something stupid.
"Yup. Definitely drunk. You're saying weird things now."
And with that, Reo commands, requests, pleads himself not to cry.
"You know." Another shot of soju is swallowed down by you, punctuated with a refreshed gasp. "The me a couple of years ago would've been overjoyed to hear that."
It feels as though every interaction with you accentuates his one-sided love and it stings; time with you is mere salt to the wound.
Neither of you say anything for a bit.
Reo can recall your confession, an awkward text sent after a couple of months the two of you actually spoke. There's an unspoken boundary between you two, to not being up the topic of each other's crushes or of your confession.
A fair rule, but it's harboured questions. Reo hasn't got a clue on your love life and crushes. He knows of your obsession with romantic dramas, always binging whatever's trending, screaming on social media about having to wait a full seven days for the next episode.
If only the two of you were a part of one. But even fiction would probably destine him for solitude woven of heartbreak.
"I think you're the drunk one. Why bring that up now?"
You've finally halted on drinking. "Dunno. That was my first confession."
And you're my first love—he wants to say it, it's at the tip of his tongue yet he can't muster it to say it aloud to himself or even to Nagi; let alone you.
"Well, it was an honour."
It wasn't. Because the thought always intrudes into his mind. What if you had confessed a couple of years later, or even at least two?
Or what if Reo hadn't taken his sweet time to fall in love with you, if he had told you he wanted to get to know you first instead of a simple rejection, would you be in his arms?
"Shut up. I was a stupid kid back then. I promise you, I have absolutely no feelings for you. Not anymore."
Reo scoffs, he can't even fantasise of the potential between you two. You liked Mikage you'd see in the hallways; rich and top of the school; not clingy old Reo who feels ever so slightly too much for everyone he cares for.
Whereas Reo couldn't care less about l/n that just transferred to his class, but would die for the y/n he discovered throughout the years.
"Yeah yeah, I know. Never thought you did." He knew you didn't.
It wouldn't've saved him from his doom of unrequited love, but the timing was terrible. The heavens should've made your infatuation and his adoration align, at the very least. Even if it meant Reo remaining unloved.
A hiccup follows a breathless giggle. "Who did you like in highschool? There had to be someone. Why didn't you ever tell me though? You had so many fans, you must've liked one of them."
Because it's you. "Because you never asked." Reo shrugs, almost impressed at his own feigned composure.
"Now I ammm." Now your words are beginning to slur. "Whooo?"
It's you. And still you. Reo could say it right here and now. You're essentially wasted and probably won't remember it. And if you did, he wouldn't mind crossing an ethical line and fibbing if it meant concealing his pathetic vulnerabilities.
Perhaps one day he'll tell you, if the uninterrupted storm ends, and the skies clear, if Mikage Reo's heart will one day stop aching for you.
"I'll tell ya some day. When I feel like it."
"What?! You're not allowed to add that much suspense—and not tell me in the end."
And perhaps in another universe, he and you can be of the same constellation, instead of being galaxies apart.
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taglist (send ask to be added) : @yuzurins , @pokkomi , @chigirizzz
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© kitorin : do not repost, plagiarize, change, or translate
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aoxizu · 2 months
Text
i have another 2.1 character dynamic post in the recesses of my brain but i need to get this out first
star rail's 2.1 update main plotline leans a lot more into existentialism and absurdism than i thought it would which is a really nice surprise
like i thought before 2.0 that at most it was just going to be some "oh no capitalism bad ipc bad cults also bad" thing but honestly what we got is so much more interesting. the spoilers start now
also massive disclaimer i am not a philosophist and actually i really don't like philosophy because it makes my brain hurt and i would much rather just look at logical nice things like math and plants so. if i get anything wrong please correct me
acheron's past and how she became an emanator of nihility reminds me somewhat of the absurdist theme of how people always look for meaning when there isn't any, until they finally realize that the universe is meaningless
and the entire path of nihility basically is a road towards that realization that people tread on, and the difference between the real world and star rail is that in the real world here we have people who will see that and then go write a book about a guy not crying at his mother's funeral, whereas in star rail it seems that just accepting that the universe is meaningless turns you into a pathstrider or even emanator of the nihility (not sure if i remember the details, correct me if i'm wrong)
and then aventurine's whole motivation is trying to understand why the universe is so cruel to him, and to find meaning when you have everything except freedom, both of which are absurdist themes
the leap of faith argument often attributed to søren kierkegaard claims that even though there is no rational logic for believing in god, you should do it anyway because the alternatives are madness, suicide, and ignorance. this was one solution to the problem of confronting the universe's meaninglessness: choosing to believe in a higher being regardless
later world wars i and ii both contributed heavily to the rise of absurdism as people returned from the war, having seen so many others die around them, and then just going back to a normal society with none of what they as individual soldiers had contributed seemingly doing anything. and then it happened again, but on a much greater scale with even more deaths. both wars and the destruction they brought led many people to start questioning why a supposedly moral god could allow this suffering, and this is where camus comes in and says that actually religion and nationalism both aren't good solutions, and instead we should just accept meaninglessness and keep living despite the absurdity
and i think dr ratio's scroll thing kind of relates to that
he tells aventurine to open it when he's about to die, or when he's completely out of answers for the question of how to confront absurdity
and dr ratio's answer for aventurine is to just tell him to keep living, good luck
which is. yeah
it's the argument that there are more answers to nihilism than just 1) going insane, 2) pretending like it doesn't exist, and 3) dying
it's the bold claim that despite everything, you can still choose to live
sure nothing makes sense but that does not detract from your life. it doesn't need to make sense at all
and with the understanding that things do not need to fit our human definition of meaning, we can continue on knowing our true place in the universe
and with that aventurine walks into the very big black hole like look at that thing you cannot tell me there is no symbolism there
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let's go back to acheron.
in the part where you get a snippet of acheron's conversation with some guy just before this cutscene, the other party states that "[IX] leave[s] woven strands of fate for humans to walk, and together THEY weave a great shadow...And this shadow silently envelops them."
which to me sounds like a statement on how people across time and space have again and again come to the same question, what is the meaning of life?
and acheron's whole color thing seems to mean that she is one of the few who, after walking so far on the path of nihility, somehow have not died yet, be it from madness or something else
like it seems implied that many many more have seen the meaninglessness of the universe and have not reacted as well as acheron has
ok i have more to say about the elation and how it in turn relates to the nihility but that will have to come later but there is. a lot of interesting things there to explore
once again disclaimer: I Am Not A Philosophist And Do Not Know What The Correct Definitions Of These Words I'm Throwing Around Are. thank you for coming to my ted talk that was more of a longwinded ramble
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slaybestieslay946 · 3 months
Note
Your last uncle!percy fic was EVERYTHING and I was wondering if you could write another one in the same universe where reader and Luke go out on a date so Percy and annabeth babysit? And maybe more interaction with Percy and reader? Feel free to make it your own juts thanks so so much for your contribution to the Luke lovers with that last one you posted haha
Date Night
MASTERLIST
word count: 1000
pairing: luke castellan x posiedon!reader
warnings: none!
a/n: icl Luke is kinda a minor character in this one, and i chose to just have Percy in it coz i felt like it made more sense?? idk hope you enjoyed love u anon
“Ok, so, dinner’s in the fridge, as well as formula for Violet. James normally goes to bed at 8, but I told him he can stay up later if he wants.” 
You explained, as you flitted around the kitchen with a list in one hand and a clutch in the other. Your brother followed after you with an attentive expression on his face. 
Tonight was you and Luke’s first date night since Violet was born, and you had been looking forward to it for weeks. You’d spent the last two hours getting ready, and now it was just a matter of making sure everything was prepared for your favourite babysitter, Percy. 
You stood at the door, peering down at the list while you husband sat on the stairs, tying his shoelaces. 
“Honey, did I forget anything?”
“Hm, did you tell him about the thermostat?”
“Oh, shit yeah.” You turned to Percy, “The thermostat is broken, so if you need to turn on the radiators or anything you’ll have to do it by hand, but I mean, it’s summer so you shouldn’t need to.” 
“Ok cool. Sounds good.” 
“Alright. I think that’s everything. You have a good night, and call if you need anything or have any questions-!”
You were about to go on another spiel about caring for your youngest daughter's specific needs when your husband swept an arm around your waist and practically dragged you out of the apartment. 
“Thanks man, see you at 11!” Luke shouted, giving Percy a quick thumbs up before shutting the door behind you both. 
“Why’d you push me out!” You asked as you both began making your way down the stairs.
“Coz you need to trust your little brother and relax. He’s a good guy.” 
“I know that.” You pouted, “But I also know that he can be a bit scatterbrained sometimes, the boy needs detailed instructions.”
“That’s exactly my point babe. He’s not a boy anymore.”
“God don’t remind me. It makes me feel old.” 
“Sorry. You're not old. Now, stop stressing about Percy and enjoy the date night you incredible husband has so kindly planned out.”
You giggled lightly, rolling your eyes, but agreeing nonetheless.
*
The date went perfectly, and you were back by 10. When you walked inside the house, you were pleasantly surprised to see that it was still standing, and your son hadn’t managed to cause a mess while you were gone like he usually did. 
Luke went up to check on Violet, meanwhile you made your way into the living room, where you could still hear the low hum of the TV in the background. 
In the room, you could see your brother, and your son curled up on the sofa, both of them fast asleep, and snoring slightly. On the TV Cars were playing (James’ favourite), and on the table there were a few mostly empty bowls of snacks. 
You laughed quietly, remembering the movie nights you and Percy had had all those years ago. 
After you left Camp half blood to go to college, he’d come over to your house a few times during the school year, in which you’d have movie marathons, pillow fights, and intense mario kart competitions. 
It’d always end the same, with the both of you passing out on the couch at 2 in the morning, cheeto dust covering your fingers and popcorn kernels all over the floor. 
They were some of your favourite times with your half-brother, when you could forget the worry of getting killed by monsters or the like, and have fun with your only sibling. 
“Hey, Perce.” You whispered, shaking him slightly. It didn’t take much to wake him, and soon his eyes were fluttering open. 
“Oh, Y/N. You’re back already?” 
“Yeah, it’s 11:30.”
“Really?!” He asked, loudly, and you quickly shushed him, pointing to the sleeping child beside him. 
Percy slapped his hand over his mouth, mumbling apologies. You rolled your eyes at him, helping the man off the sofa and leading him out of the living room and towards the spare bedroom (aka Luke’s office).
“You can stay here tonight if you want? It’s pretty late.” 
Your statement was confirmed by a loud yawn from Percy, to which he begrudgingly nodded. 
You directed him to sit in the nearby armchair whilst you grabbed the sheets from the cupboard and began to make up the bed for him. 
“How was James?” 
“We had a great time. He’s a good kid y’know?”
“Yeah.”
“It reminds me of our old movie nights.” He said, his voice slightly wistful. He had always been so sentimental, just like you. 
“Funny. I was thinking the same thing.” 
“Do you remember that time we got snowed in?” He asked, laughing lightly at the memory. 
“Of course! And the snow was so high the pizza delivery man had to climb in through the window!”
You both erupted into fits of giggles and you had to pause in your bed-making to finish laughing. 
“I really appreciate everything you did for me, Y/N.” He declared suddenly, staring off into space. 
“I didn’t do that much Perce. You give me too much credit.” 
“No, I really mean it. You did your best to give me a normal childhood, and looked after me like I was your real brother.” 
You frowned, “You are my real brother. Just like James is your real nephew. And I helped you because you were a good kid who deserved it. You earned the life you have now. We all did.” 
He broke into a bright grin at that, standing up from the armchair to give you a big hug. You could still remember when he was so much smaller than you, just a kid. Now he was an adult, and taller than you (although that mop of curly hair gave him some extra height). Still, despite how tall he got, you were certain he’d always be your little brother.
“Thanks Y/N.”
“No problem kid.”
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cloudy-em · 9 months
Note
shy reader and lip are my favorite. but i was thinking maybe she’s like that because of family? they’re mean to her so it’s better for her to keep to herself and she doesn’t tell lip anything until he sees it for himself
thank you for the request, anon! I'm thinking northside!reader for this one
xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx
We're walking to my house, the thin layer of snow crunching beneath our feet. Although I'm thankful that my private school allows long pants in the winter time, and that we're provided with a thick knit sweater as a part of our uniform options, I'm still freezing. I don't know how Lip does it. He seems just fine with his jeans and layered flannel.
"You cold?" He breaks the comfortable silence, and I nod, knowing that if I speak, my teeth will clatter together. He pulls me into him, his arm wrapping around my shoulder. It's nice, just the two of us and the snow. It's quiet and peaceful.
We reach my front door and I unlock it, inviting Lip inside. He takes his shoes off and follows me into my bedroom, where he sits on my bed. It's not our usual routine. Normally I prefer going to his house, but my family was going to be home early because of some special news coming from Harvard University for my sister. Lip decided yesterday he would spend time with me until he had to sneak out of my window so I'd be on time for dinner.
I sigh, joining Lip on my bed, Wuthering Heights in hand.
"Read to me?" I mumble. He's prepared for the question, and no matter how many times he smiles and says yes, I'm still a little embarrassed. It's easier when he reads to me because I can hear his voice reading the lines in my head. He smiles like he usually does, leaning back and taking the book from me. I lean against him, listening as he reads.
"Y/N!" I hear my mom call from downstairs. I look at Lip apologetically, telling him I'll be right back. I trudge down the stairs, trying to delay whatever my mom has to say. I walk into the kitchen, joining her and my siblings. Oh joy.
"Why didn't you put the dishes away?" She asks, annoyed at my presence. I can feel myself fold in slightly, ready for whatever the family wants to pile on me.
"I- I'm sorry, mom, it's just that the oceanography club ran late-" she cuts me off, not needing to hear my explanation.
"I don't care what happened, Y/N. You have these things to take care of because the rest of us are doing more important things. Your father and I both work full time jobs all day. Your brother is a football captain, and your sister is president of the debate team. They have well-fulfilled, promising lives in front of them. What do you have? A weird obsession with fish."
"I concur," my sister chimes in. "Are you like, attracted to them?" My brother laughs, joining in on the game. "Probably, I mean it's not like she's pretty enough to date a human!"
They continue to take turns, finding whatever flaws they can to comment on. I shrink into myself, waiting for them to get distracted by their own arrogance and start talking about themselves.
This moment comes like it usually does, but never fast enough. I walk away as quietly as possible, and return to my room. Lip looks at me, his eyes searching mine. He still has Wuthering Heights open, his thumb and index finger holding the spine open to the page we left off on. He places the book face down beside him on the bed, silently opening his arms in a welcoming gesture. Without hesitation, I take my spot in his arms as he pulls me into his chest, stroking my hair softly. I try to bite back my tears, but a few escape, and suddenly he has tear stains on his shirt.
"I'm so sorry, baby," he whispers to me, swaying slightly. "I didn't know. We'll figure something out, 'kay? No reason you can't come stay with me. The kids love you, and Fiona'll come around when we tell her what's goin' on. You and me, right?"
I smile slightly, nodding against him. "Right."
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runawayolives · 3 months
Note
So for baby daddy Nate: when they are older and married reader can't handle anymore and they both fight she ask for divorce but the kid hear it.? Hope you write about this.
This isn't canon, I think.
This belongs to Baby Daddy.
"I think we should get a divorce."
"What?"
"I said that I think we should get a divorce."
"I heard you the first time."
The Jacobs' household was soaked in silence, the two young adults in the kitchen after setting their kid to bed. Nate was sitting on the armchair near the kitchen island, while she was cleaning the remaining of dinner. He stood up, walking towards his wife, invading her personal space.
"Can I know where this is coming from?" The faucet had been dripping for a bit, probably because it knew breaking the silence was its new task.
"I don't think we need to be married." Her hand was gripping a damp towel, hyper-focusing in a little circle of coffee from that morning. "We aren't a married couple, we're just two adults living in a house and raising a child."
"Who's fault is that?"
"Don't blame me." The circle was finally gone. "You were the one who married a woman who never wanted you." Their eyes met for the fist time since they put their child to bed.
"Don't say that shit."
"Mommy? Daddy? I'm thirsty." Both young adults turned around to look at the small figure standing by the hallway. The way they were gripping the doorway and their half hidden body proved that the child had been there for longer.
"Mommy will get you some." Quickly she turned around to fill a plastic cup with water. "Here hon. Do you need help going back to bed?"
"I want daddy to do it." Those big brown eyes were too hard to deny, making Nate walk forward.
"Come on, Jojo, I'll read you another story." He lifted his child to his hip, somehow still dwarfing the child, as if they hadn't grown since they were still a baby.
"Goodnight mommy."
"Goodnight, baby."
The staircase was full of picture frames of the young family, at the park, the zoo, on christmas. Endless memories that his stupid wife wanted to throw away because she was a quitter and a coward.
"What were you and mommy talking about?"
"Nothing you have to worry about."
"You were mad. Is mommy in trouble? Should she sit on the step?" Jojo was the most terrifying child Nate had ever met. The big eyes, the big cheeks and their calm nature made them look like a small victorian child that had seen too much. Jojo had a normal childhood, two parents that loved them, friends, and two set of grandparents that spoiled the kid a bit too much. Normal, very normal child.
Nate thought all the weird things that came out of Jojo were her fault. She burdened their child, he knew it. Jojo played like any other kid, Jojo had the same taste buds as any other kid. But Jojo asked uncomfortable questions and would stare at you for a bit too long, as if the five year-old was trying to figure you out.
She spent too much time raising the child, got bored because she's a stupid selfish bitch and decided to treat Jojo like an adult. Too many books, too many paintings and too many museums.
Jojo loved their mom, and Nate was envious. Not because Jojo didn't love Nate, but because looking at them proved what relationships between mother and child could be. Martha hadn't been present, she was home, and she picked him up from school, but his dad was the one in charge of raising him.
Seeing Jojo and Y/N somehow was the Universe or whatever entity rubbing it his face. You had the potential for having this, but you didn't.
The white walls of his kid's room were covered in little scribbles on the wall, something they hadn't bothered in correcting as long as it was only in these walls. The dinosaur lamp was still on, spreading the room in the light green light. Some story books were laying on the ground, and some books. Original versions of classics such as Little Women and To kill a mockingbird laid besides The very humgry caterpillar and The Giving tree.
During the walk up and the small back rubs Nate was giving Jojo, the five-year old had fallen asleep, long eyelashes tickling their cheeks. The toddler was set on the brand new ocean life bed sheets, their latest obsession, and immediately started hugging the handmade-crochet whale they had made with their mom's help.
After setting the kid to sleep and kissing their small forehead, Nate went downstairs. His wife was were he left her, this time with a mug between her hands.
"If you think I'll give you a divorce and let you separate me from my son, you're way stupider than I thought."
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aforestescape · 4 days
Text
thinking about older bf simon x younger reader
content includes: fat simon yummy, afab!reader, short reader, fat/chubby reader, cunnilingus, completely self indulgent
yeah i also wrote this at like 3 am:) enjoy
you meet at the grocery store you frequent. somewhere in between aisles as you’re on the phone with your cousin. talking over plans for the weekend, meeting up for drinks at her place and ordering in dinner and cheesecake. a little ways down the aisle is a tall, broad figure. you'd spotted him a minute or so previously, eyes stuck to him for a few seconds too long. eyeing the way his arms and stomach filled out the material. the barley noticeable flex as he moved to grab his item.
letting your eyes trail up from his stomach, chest, neck, and then finally his face only to realize with a start that he was looking right at you. honeyed eyes trained directly on you. watching you watch him with an intense stare that had you immediately turning out the lane. embarrassment flushing your body a few degrees hotter than normal for being caught checking this man out.
as you end your phone call and enter a new aisle you pass through it, grabbing a snack that’s no where on your grocery list but you deserve a treat. as you reach the end you find what you’re looking for. only three items left and they’re stuffed back against the shell. you roll your eyes in annoyance, rocking up onto your toes as you stretch for it. your fingers grazing over the baggy but not close enough to pinch between your fingers.
you plant back down on the ground, letting out a huff of air. pressing your body into the shelf as you attempt to grab it once again. you’re a little closer to grabbing it now. almost managing before a black clothed arm reaches past you to pluck the item.
simons hulk directly behind you, standing in a black hoodie and his normal mask covering the bottom half of his face. it doesn't hide the scars that liter the rest of it though or the ones on his hands as he reaches past you to grab the bag of granola you'd been trying to get. he steps back slightly and gives the bag to you.
you offer him a smile and thank him, voice quiet as you take in his face up close. you can only see from the bridge of his nose and up. a long scar peeking out from the half skull mask. he lets out a grunt in acknowledgment, turning to walk away before you stop him. you take a small breath, deciding to be brave because how bad could it be to ask?
“er- i hope this isn’t weird to ask, but are you single?”
he’s not expecting the question, staring you down for a few unnerving seconds before telling you that, yes he is single. and after exchanging numbers you spend the rest of the week messaging. his answers are sparse through the day but he tells you it’s because he works security during that time. he asks you about your days at night when you’re heading to bed, enjoying your mundane rambles and work tea over the phone.
you send him a picture before and some videos after you getting drunk at your cousins flat. loud music playing in the background as you down a shot, nose scrunched slightly before grinning at the camera. another of you dancing with a friend? he assumes, both of you with cups in your hand and giggling while you twirl around in her kitchen.
you haven’t known each other long at all in the grand scheme but he’s sure he can get used to this. hearing your drunken laugh and slurred speech as you head to your front door from your uber. still living at home and in your last year of university but he doesn’t care. it appeals to him honestly, your brain and that you’re studious enough to have seeked out higher education of your own wanting. he didn’t, knew it wasn’t something he’d be able to do in place of getting away from his awful home life.
leaving his mother and brother behind, doomed to their fate in order to escape the father who raised him. he praises you for it as the weeks go by and you stress to him about mid terms. over in his flat after classes, sat on the floor of his living room with books spread out. every so often he’ll reach his hand down from his spot on the couch, large fingers smoothing over your head like you’re a pet. petting your head and soothing you in his own way.
he’ll take you out on dates on his days off or pick you up to come over to his. he prefers being inside and smaller places. something he’s glad you accommodate to though really you also prefer to be indoors. date nights consisting of standing in his kitchen, prepping for dinner and talking with low music in the background. smiling and reaching on your toes to give his cheek a soft peck as he loops his thick arm round your waist.
you still hadn’t seen his entire face yet but well, you didn’t care much. it couldn’t be that different and the half you could see was attractive enough. and so was his body. you’d always been attracted to thicker frames. hairy chests and abdomens that cover up fatter tummies and delicious pecs. it both made you go absolutely feral and also made you feel more comfortable with your own thicker body.
having grown into a curvier and chubby body came with the occasional feeling of unattractiveness. it wasn’t true at all, your weight and curves only adding to your beauty, something simon said to you whenever he’d catch the way you’d stare at yourself in the mirror sometimes. leaning down and wrapping his bulk around you from behind. big, freckled and scarred arms holding you flush against him so you could feel the swell of his cock.
he’d kiss up and down your neck through his mask. low and thick accented voice singing your praises while his hands would search and grope the rolls on your body. holding the weight of your breast in his hands and squeezing as you’d moan in his arms. simon letting out a chuckle before kissing you again and keeping on with exploring you. coaxing you into bed where he could spread your plush thighs apart and worship you for hours.
keeping them apart with his forearms as he lapped up your arousal. a pillow under your lower back and your hands caught in the sheets, tugging on his hair, covering your face as you moaned in bliss. simons warm tongue spreading your lips as he flicked the muscle up and down them. letting his saliva pool and add to the obscene noises filling the air of his bedroom while he dined on you.
devouring your cunt, one hand on your stomach. caressing and squeezing and pushing down gently on it. roaming upwards to pluck and tug on your sensitive nipples. making your back arch as you cried out from the stinging pleasure. moaning into your slick cunt as he sucked on your clit. sucking and licking back down to stick his tongue inside your hole.
he’d go on for hours, holding your trembling body and praising you through every orgasm. even as you cried and shook from exertion, plush body covered in a layer of sweat. vision blurred and mind fuzzy around the edges. moans of how good you tasted, how pretty you were, how perfect your body is. all just for him, “just for me, right doll? only i get to eat this pretty pussy of yours. all mine, hm.”
and when he was finally done he’d clean you up. hold you in his arms under the blankets while you thanked him softly. pressing kisses to his chest in your sleepy and fucked out state. the telly on some random cartoon as you both drifted off in each others arms.
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in a funnier world simon doesn’t actually help you at the grocers. he reaches past you and just as you’re going to turn and thank him for the hand he places the last of the granola in his own cart buggy and goes about his day. never mind the cutie who was staring at him for some reason?
anyways there will be another part cause i didn’t even get to the scene that made me want to write this🤭prepare for angst in the future hehe
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oddlykilledghosts · 6 months
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Breakfast At Tiffany’s - Rafe Cameron x reader
Summary: Rafe surprises you with a trip to New York during Christmas, and a stop at a shop you could never afford
Word Count: 3.2k
Pairings: Rafe Cameron x pogue!reader
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Nothing felt real. 
Well, maybe it actually felt a little bit too real. Too good to be true. Maybe falsified by some ancient god for some universal prank. But you didn’t care. You were sitting in the backseat of a taxi with your boyfriend, Rafe Cameron, and life was perfect. Life couldn’t have been more perfect. It was snowing outside, a blaze of white flickering past the window and landing on the cars passing by. A sight you had never seen before, and your eyes glazed over watching the snowfall from outside the car.
You were leaning on Rafe’s shoulder, having been a little sleep deprived lately because of work and trying to find time to spend with friends when you weren’t working, which were both equally stressful. Rafe’s arm was protectively around you, and also radiating heat from inside his jacket. And it felt a little alright to take a break from thinking about those small amounts of stress when you were bundled up next to the Kook.
The other day, when this all began, had started out just right. Perfect sun, no clouds in the Outer Banks, and temperature of low 50s; the coldest you liked in your hometown. You had stayed over at Rafe’s the previous night, and he had pretty much insisted you do so. Unfortunately, you could never really say no to your boyfriend. But Tannyhill was also big and glorious and you never minded staying there instead of The Cut. 
After you had begun dating, it was typical of you to stay there most nights, with Rafe’s room becoming a second hideaway from the world. His room had its own bathroom, where you had showered and cleaned up before the day had started. And you kept your own things there; strawberry scented shampoo, face wash, a toothbrush, and a few other necessities. Rafe had made his space your own. The only problem was trying not to let Ward in on your little secret. You were Ward’s favorite of the pogues, only when you weren’t a group of meddling kids, but you doubted he would approve of your sleepover situation. And if he did know of it, he didn’t say anything. 
When you came out of the shower, Rafe was sitting on the bed looking at his phone, not letting you in on any simplicity of his plan. You were drying your hair with one of his white towels when he spoke up, all nonchalant-like, “You like New York, right?” His voice hid a certain nuance to it, but you couldn’t tell what it entailed.
An eyebrow shot up on your face as a laugh exited your mouth, a jingle Rafe could never get out of his head, “Like, geographically?” 
Rafe shook his head, his eyes looking up from his phone. His gaze softened when it landed on you, a gentle expression on his features. “No, like, visiting.” He shrugged where he was laying down, and pulled himself up to a sitting position to get a better look at you. His eyes were sparkling, keeping a secret to themselves.
You laughed again, not sure where he was going with this, “You very well know I’ve never been outside of North Carolina before.” You shrugged, "Can't afford it.” The truth was, you couldn’t remember if you had told Rafe about wanting to visit New York. Especially when you were younger, you would dream about living in the city. It didn’t always sound like you, as you were now an avid surfer and got tans upon tans on the beach at every opportunity. Plus, saving turtles with Kiara was always on your mind. You couldn’t very well do that in the confines of a concrete jungle. But the dream was still there, just not tangible.
“Y/N, would you like to go to New York?” Rafe’s smile peeked out from an unfortunately unsuccessful attempt to hide. You stopped trying to dry your hair. Normally, you didn’t love when Rafe showered you with gifts. But Rafe loved it, and did so at every opportunity. It was like if Rafe had all this love to give, if he could land it anywhere, it would solely be on you.
You shook your head, “No- I mean yes. But you can’t. I mean, Rafe, it’s like-”
“Y/N, it’s Christmas, please just say yes.” Rafe's eyes were so soft, melting into you. His voice was so sweet when he talked, as if he really believed you would turn down the gift and was hoping with all of his might that you would really take him up on it. You had turned down his gifts and generosity before, but that was so early into your relationship that it felt like ages away now. The real problem was, Christmas was the one exception. You loved everything about the holiday. The lights. The gifts. The tree. The music. Everything. And you had never really seen snow before. Had it snowed in New York recently…you were somewhat tempted to get out your phone and check even before answering your boyfriend. Snow. Did you enjoy the cold? Not always. But it could be something new. Something inspiring.
You looked at Rafe, trying to decipher whatever plans he had for the two of you by marking the constellations of his face. A line here, a dimple there. One faded freckle. And inside it all was a loving boyfriend. One you knew wanted the best for you. Only if that’s what you wanted too.
So you said yes. And now you could never believe you did. The Rockefeller tree. The shop windows on 5th avenue. Even your hotel was in the Christmas spirit. Wreaths were up. Halls were decked. It really felt like Christmas. And it was more than you could have ever asked for.
You would never complain about your life back home, not at all. But to really experience it all like this was magical. It was something out of a dream. Like one of those children’s books about a snow day.
Finally, you and Rafe stepped out of the cab, Rafe stopping just for a second to pay the man behind the wheel. You were stopped at Fifth Avenue, a very “Rafe” place to be (as you had decided in your mind). There was nothing spared here, and the bustling of bodies was new to you. Stuck in your mind was the thought of a tourist like you getting trampled so you hung onto Rafe’s arm for support as you walked. 
Snow fell on your nose and your eyelashes causing a blurry sight. You’d never experienced snow before. Well, New York City wasn’t the best place to make snowmen and have a snowball fight, but experiencing it this way the first time was alright to you and just as special. 
Rafe pulled you into a coffee shop, allowing you to be in awe of the city for a moment. You wondered if he had been before, surely Ward had taken him either on business ventures or family vacations. He knew his way around well enough, he didn’t seem like just some OBX boy making it up as he goes for the first time in this type of city.
“Coffee first?” You asked, not sure where this particular stop of the day was leading you. 
The first stop of the day had actually been waking up at your hotel, which wasn’t that far from where you were now. Rafe had scheduled ahead of time, gotten you both a flight with great seats, and started the trip off particularly great. When you found this all out though, you initially pouted unconvinced by Rafe’s confidence that you were going to say yes. Just another way he gets ahead of himself because of you.
When you walked into the shop - a fun place called Ralph’s, you pushed some hair behind your ear. You were wearing a hat and a big coat to fend off the cold and your hair kept getting in your face. The hat was also a little itchy, but you didn’t tell that to Rafe who had thought you looked so cute bundled up.
“World’s best cup of coffee,” Rafe joked, giving you a squeeze of your hand as the two of you stood in line. He was referencing a quote from a movie the two of you had watched together to get in the Christmas spirit; Elf.
You rolled your eyes as you remembered that you wanted a cup of New York coffee. That scene had sparked an inspiration. World’s best or not, coffee kept New York upright. It was just a small thing that he had noticed and remembered. How much of what you said now lived permanently in Rafe’s brain?
When you got to the front of the line, Rafe ordered you your signature caffeinated drink and a croissant, although you weren’t hungry. 
“Next stop?” Rafe asked into your ear as you were leaving, his lips forming a smile. It was nice to see him in such a good mood it almost surprised you to see him act so carefree.
Once you were out, back into the cold, your grip on your boyfriend hardened. “And what would that be?”
“It’s a surprise.” He replied.
“No really tell me.” You pulled at his coat sleeve but he kept walking, dragging you along with him.
“We’re almost there, Y/N. Trust me.”
You leaned into Rafe, taking his word for it and sipped your drink as you went along, people watching everyone on the crowded street.
_________________
You had closed your eyes against Rafe’s sleeve for a bit before you stopped, that exhaustion from work and hanging out one to many late nights with the pogues taking over. You were glad your boss had been forgiving enough about the trip, as you had saved up sick days in advance for emergencies like this (this was a Christmas emergency) and were glad for the time off but you still needed a nap. Maybe on the next taxi drive.
Rafe had to shake you from your almost-sleepwalking-endeavor, “Y/N, you might want that croissant now.”
“Mhnm?” You hummed, content with the smell from Rafe’s coat (polo cologne and fresh laundry as well as that distinct ocean-y smell that came from living so close to the beach).
Shaking your head from any notion of sleep, you opened your eyes, and you gave Rafe a look. This is not what you had envisioned. It wasn’t some New York tradition or small town deal. Well, what it was was Tiffany and CO’s flagship store, huge and towering over the two of you as snow passed by the well-lit windows. 
You couldn’t help but smile at the store. So beautifully big and gleaming with lights and decorations of the jewelry inside. You would’ve never taken yourself here, and you knew that was most of the reason why Rafe had. You had watched Breakfast at Tiffany’s not that long ago and told Rafe how much you loved it. The characters. The glitz and glam. What the story really meant. 
Rafe handed you the croissant, “Ready to remake a scene?”
You now understood what Rafe was doing. You were going to be his Audrey Hepburn. His “Holly Golightly”. The classic croissant and coffee combo, her breakfast that she ate in the first scene of the movie.
Going up to the window, you let him take your picture as you sipped your drink and took a bite, laughing as you did so. “You know, we’re far from those characters.” You mention, trying to get back to reality.
“We’re obviously not sex-workers, Y/N.” Rafe says with a deadpan, and you’re surprised he’s seen the movie as you surely didn’t make him watch it. Maybe Wheezie did when she was going through her past decades phase a few months ago. As he talked, snow got stuck in his hair, you think it makes him look cute and you bite back a soft laugh.
“I know,” you smile, taking another bite of the treat. There was some chocolate inside, sweet and just right. “If I had a cat, I’d definitely name it.”
“But?” Rafe knew you too well to drop the conversation.
“I did fall in love with it. That nothing bad could ever happen in a place like Tiffany’s.” You took a step towards your boyfriend and used his color to pull him into a light kiss. “You’re like that for me.”
Rafe smiled against your mouth, “Because I’m rich?”
You shrugged, a playful smirk on your lips, “Want to go in?” You asked, having too much fun with this. “Just to look.” You clarified.
Rafe nodded his head, a mastermind at work behind those eyes, “Ladies first.”
_____________________
The thing was, you weren’t much for luxury stores, so this was a very new experience for you. A doorman stood by one of the doors and ushered you in, and you blushed as he opened the door for you as it’s action usually only Rafe does for you. You smiled at him as he both of you passed, and grabbed Rafe’s hand (one of your many ways to comfort yourself) as you entered the store.
The store itself was huge, ceilings going up and around, four floors all open to retail. The first floor featured cases of the most blindingly pretty diamonds and jewelry you had ever seen. Sparkles washed over your eyes as you pulled Rafe to either side of the store, looking with delight at everything offered. Every now and again, a worker would ask if you needed help, but you assured them you were only looking before Rafe could interject.
All of it was decorated with Tiffany's version of Christmas. Christmas cards and art and wreaths. The color red. Tiffany Blue. A tree here and there.
There was a time here and there where you could feel Rafe’s eyes on you, his smile widening at your awe. So in love with you that even watching you enjoy something was enough of a show for him.
By the time you had traveled to each floor, you felt very pleased with your visit. You and the pogues would’ve never come here on your own, let alone able to afford anything in its walls. But Rafe still had a surprise up his sleeve, just for you. 
When you came back to the first floor, Rafe stopped you from going out the door. His hair was now damp from the melted snow but his nose was still a little reddened by the cold. You weren’t sure it was that appropriate to kiss him in a store like this, but you wanted to because he looked so much like the person you loved more than anything, just fresh and new from the cold. He held out his hand to you again, and pulled you close before exiting the store. “I want you to pick one.” He whispered in your ear, not quite letting you pass the threshold and leave.
“What?” A shiver went up your back, causing goosebumps to appear on your arm under your coat. You were sure Rafe was kidding, and also not sure at the same time. He went a little extreme when it came to you, so this was no mistake. He had planned this. 
“Y/N, please just pick one.”
You turned to face him, heat steaming in your cheeks, “Rafe I can’t do that.”
He smiled, “Yes you can.” Then at your pout of pure utter ‘I’m a pogue and I can’t take expensive gifts’, he added, “Let’s just look again. Try something on. For me.” 
As you persisted, Rafe just got more and more convincing. It was easy to fall into his traps. He was tall and charming and knew all of your tricks as well as his own.
When you perused the glass cases again, Rafe flagged down a sales associate to help you. Anxiety coursed through you, you had never done this before… let alone spent this much money on something other than bills. But there was something so calm and casual about Rafe here, like he knew how it worked. 
But you also did want to be pampered a little, give into Rafe’s love for you, even for just a moment.
Rafe picked a few items out, but only after you had shown interest. He was letting you take the reins. Of course, you cringed when they said each of the prices, but Rafe covered it casually and had no worries about how much the cost would be. You tried on a few necklaces and bracelets, weighing the options. You felt so glamorous looking in the mirrors and seeing the jewelry on. But there was one that you loved. That you couldn’t take your eyes off of. But it felt like too much to ask. Of course, the only problem was how Rafe already noticed you eyeing it. It was helpless to think you were going to leave the store, with Rafe as your boyfriend, empty handed.
Rafe side-eyed you as the sales associate walked away for a moment to fetch something Rafe had asked to see, “What are you thinking?”
“I’m thinking it’s Christmas and you don’t have to do this,” You put your hand on top of his, his skin was warm and cozy and his gold signet ring glinted under the lights.
“Hmm, I’m thinking it’s Christmas and you deserve this. Y/N you work so hard, let me do this-” The sales associate returned and opened up the box to reveal what you had wanted, but not said. 
“How much is-” You began to ask, already regretting your decision to let this happen.
“Don’t tell her, it’s a gift.” Rafe interrupted, his smile so charming you were sure even the sales associate was falling into his trap.
You glared at him, but tried it on. And you felt good wearing it. It glinted just like Rafe’s ring in the light, and it looked so good in the mirror. You wanted to scold Rafe, but this was one of the first things you’ll probably have forever and you didn’t want to rob yourself of that. Especially not when it’s connected to someone you loved so much.
“What do you think?” You asked, showing it off to Rafe.
Rafe gave you a look, and you sighed with a smile and turned to the sales associate, “We’ll take it.”
________________________
When you were walking out of the store, you grabbed Rafe’s hand again and pulled him out, almost nervous that he would be tempted to buy you more. You had already gotten one blue box that day, you didn’t need Rafe going especially crazy. But between you, it felt like Christmas. You had gotten an out of this world gift, you were in New York with the love of your life, and you still had more to do.
You turned your head to look at Rafe while you walked, not really in the mood for a taxi, “What’s next?” You asked, eyes ablaze with that look you always got on Christmas morning.
“So now you like my surprises?” Rafe asked, squeezing your hand. 
“It’s Christmas, I can give in a little.” You squeezed Rafe’s hand back, and went off into the wintery New York city.
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