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couchpotatoaniki · 3 years

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Our Fruitless Tree

As children, the three of you were inseparable. To show this, you planted a mulberry tree together--a symbol of your love and ever-lasting friendship that would withstand the test of time. But would it really?

Pairing: Servant!Hongjoong x Royal!Reader x Nobleman!Seonghwa Genre: Royal AU, Arranged marriage AU, Love triangle, heavy angst, fluff, childhood friends to lovers (?), Fantasy AU, Warnings: swearing, mentions of conception, blood, death (unknown terminal illness; tree), unrequited love, extremely poor story-telling, magic torture, Word Count: 5.8k+

@atozfic IT MAY BE SHIT, BUT THIS ONE’S FOR YOU /g

A/N: the bridal bouquet in this is inspired by Princess Diana’s. I dunno, I just really liked it.

“Y/N! Come look over here!” Seonghwa yelled at you, hand waving in the air to beckon you over where Hongjoong and he stood. Even as children, the two were taller than you, as if their bodies had not cared you were of a higher status.

You were the only child of the Kingdom’s royal family, meaning that you had little in the way of friends. Especially when the future crown stuck to you, intimidating any future playmates. Luckily Seonghwa was the son of a family friend--a nobleman with immense power, who’s faithful lineage dated back to the creation of the kingdom.

Hongjoong was similar, the only difference being that he came from that of a servant family than of one of power, a debt made by his ancestors that had sold his life to serve the royal family. But being your servant had taught him from a young age that, unlike what everyone had tried to make you believe, you were pretty much a normal human with feelings, the weight of an entire empire on your shoulders from the day you were born.

“Coming!” you yelled back, hurriedly making your way towards your only two friends, the younger holding something behind his back while the older was practically bouncing with excitement. “What are you hiding from me?”

Grinning, Seonghwa’s hands pulled into sight, unfurling to show off the sapling in his hand. “It’s a mulberry tree! You love mulberries, don’t you?”

You believe that was the first time your heart skipped a beat--at the young age of 11--but you wouldn’t realise until a quite few years later, when life was much different, though the relationship between the three of you had not changed all that much.

That day was a precious memory, where the three of you had planted the young mulberry sapling in a secret garden that your father had built just for you, but you had opened it to Seonghwa and Hongjoong; a place where none of you had to bare the titles hovering over your heads.

Even the Earth was indiscriminate when it came to dirtying your clothes as you all kneeled to plant the young sapling easily becoming the most important thing in your friendship.

Had the three of you acting as if it was your shared child, arguing who would water the roots, talking to it as if it could respond.

As the years went on, life was much different than when you were all naïve children, but the care and love you had never weakened, even during the occasional arguments that burst between you all.

With age, Hongjoong’s untameable burnt-chocolate hair lightened to a gentle chestnut, long enough that he had to tie it back into a little bun. Seonghwa’s hair, on the other hand, had changed from a soft platinum to a dirty blonde, messy strands now pulled down into a neat style.

The two were lean. Both still taller than you, though Hongjoong was only a few inches from you.

The three of you truly believed you could withstand the test of time. That your relationship would never change no matter how long it had been.

“Are you ready for tomorrow?” you whispered, hand clamped to the stone railing of your balcony. “It’s your last chance to back out, Seonghwa.”

You could hear chuckling beside you, deeper than what you used to hear as a kid, though you dared not to look at the boy--the man beside you. “You know very well I can’t do that, Y/N. Would rather it be me that’s marrying you than some officious fool who knows nothing of your happiness.”

Sighing, you leaned over, letting your necklace dangling slightly in the air from around your neck. “Doesn’t mean you have to sacrifice your own happiness.”

You felt two colder hands wrap around your exposed arms, feeling nice against the humid summer night. Seonghwa’s chin rested down on your shoulder, as he looked on the same scene you were. Soft breaths against your skin had it erupting with goosebumps, and you prayed your friend had not noticed.

He did, but didn’t pay much heed to it--as per usual. If only he would put a little more though into the strange quirks you developed over time--developed around him and him only--maybe he would have realised that you loved him.

More than a friend.

Both of you were too lost in the moment to realise someone had entered your room. The final person to complete your trio. Hongjoong, dressed in his crisp cream and gold uniform, overlooked the scene of you two.

He didn’t know why his heart hurt so badly.

Clearing his throat certainly got your attention, ripping away from each other in fear that someone had caught you two a night before the wedding doing something you shouldn’t have. Was nothing like that, but people--especially those in the castle--tended to blow things out of proportion.

Upon seeing that it was only Hongjoong, you two had released a breath of relief. “For heaven’s sake, Hongjoong! You almost gave me a heart attack,” you said. Seonghwa had his eyes averted to the polished marble floor, unable to meet his friend’s, cheeks flushed.

You thought it was because of embarrassment that someone had caught the two of you so late at night.

It wasn’t.

“I think it would be best for you to return to your room, Seonghwa. Before someone actually does come looking for you. Don’t want someone to see you too,” Hongjoong laughed, now an expert at making a light-hearted aura around him with years of practice.

“Alright then. Good night,” the nobleman smiled, finally bringing his sight up to see his best friend, heart beating feverishly when he saw the gentle smile pulling at his lips. Couldn’t tell it wasn’t real, not even as he left the room.

Now it was just you and Hongjoong.

“Come, let’s take a walk.”

For as long as you could remember, the boy had been attentive to your needs (despite his occasional silly behaviour), long before he was told that it was his job. You’d like to think of it as his sixth sense; knowing how you were, what you needed, when you needed him.

Maybe that’s why he could tell that you had pre-wedding jitters, feeling so sick you barely had the life in you--skin looking more dreary than usual. You needed time away, even for a few minutes, to take a breather from all the commotion.

The two of you walked in silence in the sleeping halls, like two thieves in the night, careful not to wake anyone up.

Hongjoong was aware you liked Seonghwa, but he knew it was unrequited. Why, he could not his finger on. You were prefect, a person who deserved all the love in the world--in the universe.

You knew better than to ask where he was taking you; after all, you trusted him. And maybe because you also knew him well enough to know where he was taking you.

To the secret garden.

“She’s withstood all the storms and droughts the earth has threatened her with. No wonder her bark is so thick and her roots so tough.” His voice was tender as the tips of his fingers brushed against the rough bark, the trunk appearing darker under the absence of the sun. “Gotten so big, hasn’t she?”

As if his actions were a trigger, your hand reached out to stroke the mulberry tree too. “She has...” Tender look in your expression had his breath caught in his throat. Your eyes shifted to meet his, which were already gazing at you. “Do you think she’ll bare fruit this time?”

“The frost has long passed, so not this year, I believe.” Hongjoong couldn’t bare the instant hollow look in your eyes, saddened to his core until the light reignited in your irises--almost glowing in the dark like the fireflies surrounding them.

“But she will next year, right?”

“And she will bare the tastiest fruit. Better than those sold on the markets,” he reassured, though he had an inkling of suspicion that this fruit would not come any time soon. Not after all these years. But that spark in your eyes was the only thing he could not bare to extinguish, so he kept his lips pursed.

“I was reading up on the symbolism of the mulberry trees across cultures,” you said, moving to sit on the wooden swing that hung from one of the stronger branches; the rope had rose vines growing around it, which Hongjoong made sure to maintain so it was safe for you whenever you came. This was your favourite spot, after all.

He raised a brow, moving behind you as his hands rested on your back momentarily before pushing you slightly. “Is that so? Mind telling me?” He already knew from his extensive research to look after the tree, but there was no harm in hearing it again.

Excitedly, you let a wide grin play against your lips as he gradually pushed you higher and higher. “So, in Xiqen, it’s seen as a link between Heaven and Earth, and in Mika, it represents a support, nurturing and self-sacrifice.”

“Is that all?”

“Uh...yes.”

“Strange... I could’ve sworn there was some significance of the mulberry tree in Zepheth.” He began to slow down when he saw your back slump over slightly. Probably because he knew that it wasn’t a happy story.

“There is,” you mumbled, eyes downcast to the evergreen grass rather than meet his soft chocolate ones. “Just... it’s very sad.”

He held your hands in his larger ones, both of you loving the warmth it provided despite the slight heat of the night. “Not all stories are happy. Need to hear the sad ones too, to truly understand the picture.”

Words were a bit cryptic, even for him. Regardless, you had continued. “In Zepheth, there were these two lovers who were forbidden to wed, so they secretly arranged to meet under the mulberry tree. However, they were found out, and killed under the tree, staining the white berries red... It symbolises star-crossed lover and the final union of death.”

The air seemed to be still, despite the rustling of the leaves and chirping of the hidden crickets. Hongjoong kneeled down, pressing a hand onto your cheek to soothe even the slightest bit the grief in your face. “Good thing the other two have nice symbols. Cancels the bad things out.”

Chuckling slightly, you rested your own hand on his, nuzzling into his palm as your eyes shut. Stark contrast between your skins, yours being softer than silk while his were calloused and rough. But it felt nice against the supple flesh of your cheek.

You both thought so.

But with the moon so high and hair beginning to stick to your necks from the humidity and heat, you thought it best to return. “Escort me to my chambers? After all, it is a very big day tomorrow and we both have to rise early for the final preparations.”

As if he needed reminding of that. “Very well then.”

Your servant wasn’t happy with the proceedings--not when he knew that Seonghwa’s eyes did not meet the passion you had in yours, despite your many years of friendship. But he had to agree with him on one thing.

Seonghwa was the best and safest choice you (and the kingdom) had in this moment of time.

So Hongjoong didn’t protest when you walked down the isle in the most breath-taking attire, adorned with pearls and jewels, and a gorgeous bouquet of green and white; gardenias, lily of the valley, earl mountbatten roses, freesia, and ivy--and most importantly, white mulberries.

He didn’t challenge when the vows were spoken and Seonghwa promised to love you and only you forever.

He didn’t object when the Priestess gave the crowd one last chance to speak or forever hold their peace before the deal was sealed with a kiss.

Despite his gut and every other fibre in his being screaming at him otherwise.

Another two decades passed, and now strands of white hairs were peeking through, but unlike before, much had changed. You were now a parent of three--triplets, conceived within the first few tries.

Yunho, San, and Wooyoung. The mulberries of your eyes.

You suppose that’s when the rose-tint on your married life began to fade. Though he was extremely affectionate in the beginning, Seonghwa never touched you like that again after the birth of your children. Though the three kids never really noticed it much as it was all they had known, you could see it clearly.

How he would spend more and more time in his office. How he would climb in bed and talk about your day, but doing nothing more. It was if you two had reverted back to friends--that very thought breaking your heart when you had loved him so dearly.

Felt as if he looked at your feelings as if it were a trinket in a shop before putting it back, not finding it suitable enough for him.

But for Seonghwa, that wasn’t the case at all.

He tried--he really did--to love you.

By now, time had made him wise enough to know of your compassion for him and he begged himself to return your feelings. Spent many nights while you were asleep praying to the entities residing in the Heavens, crying on the hard floor of the palace’s temple until his arms grew sore and his legs went numb.

But he could not look at any other. Seonghwa could not stop his heart knocking against his chest, his cheeks pooling with heat, whenever he saw Hongjoong smile, or laugh, or do the most menial of tasks.

Could not stop the thoughts of him being by his side rather than you--and it killed him to think that, especially when you have been nothing but kind and loving to the both of them--never giving your personal servant too much work or being too stubborn in wanting your husband’s affection. Instead of pressing too much, you worked on the kids and kingdom.

You were kind, selfless.

Maybe Seonghwa should have let someone else marry you. Maybe they could love you back for all those times he couldn’t.

But he supposes that the best thing out of this marriage was his children. Despite Yunho’s hyperactivity, San’s clinginess, and Wooyoung’s mischievousness, he loved the three to the moon and back.

Helped you in raising them over the last two decades into great people.

It was the only thing he couldn’t bring himself to regret.

That, and how it had given him the excuse to be closer with Hongjoong too, the two of them learning how to look after the triplets (one already proved to be a handful, but three was a nightmare) while you were unwell or busy with other business.

There were times where he glanced at his childhood friend, playing games with the young kids or feeding them or changing them, and had completely forgotten about you. All that swirled in his head was if this is what it would look like if Hongjoong and he had a family together.

Then Seonghwa would snap out of it a spilt second later, cold shame eating away at the warmth in his chest because how could he ever think of such a thing about the mother of his kids?

Meanwhile, Hongjoong--your intelligent and faithful servant--had figured this out too. Figured out the reason why he felt so sick to his stomach when he saw you be so loving towards a man who doesn’t love you back, and why said man could not reciprocate your feelings.

If Seonghwa felt guilty, then Hongjoong felt a million times worse.

Felt as if he was the reason you were in so much pain--and he could tell you were, because he was the one you came running to in the beginning, when your husband kept his wall up around you and you became so frustrated and upset that you spilled waterfalls of salty tears onto his jacket, mumbling words of pain and heartbreak that stayed within the walls of the secret garden.

It stayed safe there, as Seonghwa no longer visited.

Not even you had visited less, despite being consumed with your children and the work of the kingdom. The tree was a sign of your love for each other, it was your very first child.

Hongjoong, too, had stayed. Continued to care for it, to keep it company on his breaks, to talk about his problems since he certainly could not tell you or Seonghwa. His own tears often landed on the roots of the tree, nurturing it with his pain.

Perhaps that’s why the tree had not bore any mulberries, from the saltiness of the water or the anguish it carried.

But he kept whispering the same thing to you whenever you asked, that the mulberries would definitely come, and they would be tastiest you would ever have. Better than those from the markets.

Five more years had passed and you grew ill. Hid it well, so well that no one except the royal physician knew of your condition. Not even Hongjoong knew, so you took that as an achievement. Rarely anything got by him, especially when it came to you.

Dr Yeosang had looked at you with dreary eyes, putting his equipment away which had signalled the end of your appointment. “Anything?” you inquired, coughing into a blood-stained napkin.

“I’m afraid there is still no diagnosis. None of the symptoms match up to any known illnesses and it appears that it is not spread by people since everyone else in the palace is as fit as a fiddle.”

Your smile was small as you chuckled. “Everyone except me, it seems,” you joked in an attempt to lighten the mood.

Yeosang simply sighed. “I believe it’s time. Tell your family before it gets even worse--which it has been doing since the first appointment. At least Hongjoong.”

“You know very well I can’t do that. We’re in the middle of a drought and there’s raids going on in the North--”

“Every kingdom faces those, and yours has already dealt with such situations in the past very well.”

You looked away, cheeks now starting to sink in from the lack of appetite. “I know,” you whispered, ”but I can’t bring myself to say it.”

He licked his lips in contemplation, understanding why you wouldn’t want to tell anyone. A monarch is as strong as the kingdom--any instability in the family will cause instability for the nation. And the same goes for a parent and their family.

“I suppose I can try to hide it a little longer... but a month is all I can do--from the rate your illness is progressing.”

Lips tightening in a thin line, you nodded. There was never going to be enough time. Would go greedy, wishing for a month, then another, then another. But your timer was non-negotiable.

So the first thing you did when you left the royal physicians was go see your sons. If there were anyone who needed your attention, they would be your boys.

Short on breath, you tried to travel swiftly through the hallways--bones, now weary with age and sickness, no longer moving the same way as you used to. As you made your way to the royal family’s private wing, you overheard wisps of conversation through a nearby door.

Slowing to a halt, you listened closer, recognising the voices but not seeming to put names to them--brain too muddled to think straight.

“--know.”

“You can’t do that, Seonghwa. Not to her.”

“I can’t force myself to stop caring about you, Hongjoong!”

Your heart stopped mid-beat.

“Keep your voice down!” There was a pause while the floorboards of Seonghwa’s private office creaked, most likely Hongjoong’s habit of pacing while he was thinking. “You need to. I care about you as a friend, but nothing more.”

“You think if I could, I would’ve done so already?” your husband’s voice was seething. “Heavens know how hard I have tried to love her, b-but I just can’t!”

“Well I can’t love you back, if that’s what you’re asking for.”

Another stretch of silence passed, and you could almost imagine the two glaring at each other as they normally did in a fight. “Because you love her. Am I correct?”

A soft sigh came from who you assumed was Hongjoong, quiet but still loud enough for your ears to capture (greatly timed to cover your own gasp at the revelation).

“I don’t know...”

“What do you mean by that?”

“...Nothing.”

“Hongjoong, you know you can tell me anything. Regardless of our positions before or after this conversation, we will always be friends.”

“This is better kept between me and the Heavens.” He sighed once more. “All you need to know is that we can’t be together because I don’t love you and I have my loyalty. End of discussion.”

Had it been anyone else, Seonghwa would’ve had them arrested for speaking that way to their king. But neither of you could ever so that to him. He was your rock, your old friend--his loyalty shining bright even after all these years of serving you.

Before Hongjoong could open the door, you had fled the scene, not wanted to be caught eavesdropping on such a private conversation--even if the topic had concerned you.

Just before entering the Princes’ linked chambers, you caught your breath, willing your pounding heart to stop beating so feverishly.

There was too much going on. Too much, and your brain can’t seem to wrap itself around it all.

“So that’s why,” you whispered, lacking breath in your lungs. “His heart belongs to another...” Then a fit of coughs burst once more and your hands scrambled to retrieve a fresh napkin tucked beneath your sleeve to catch the blood.

Upon hindsight, it was a bad idea to stop in front of your son’s private room, because your extreme coughing had caught his attention. Yunho’s confused eyes melted away to concern, especially after seeing the dark red liquid tainting the pure white cloth.

“Mother!”

His cry had attracted the attention of your other two sons, who swarmed around you as Yunho cradled his arms around you, guiding you to his bed.

San brushed the strands of hair that had escaped from your tight bun away from your face while Wooyoung rubbed your back in attempt to sooth your violent coughing. “What’s wrong, Mum?”

“We need to tell Papa!”

“We need Dr Yeosang--”

“He knows,” you tried to say, doing your breath to bring your breathing back to normal. “The doctor. He’s known... for a long time.”

“What do you mean ‘a long time’?” San asked, his hands clasped around yours, a desperate look in his eyes begging for an explanation. “What’s going on, Mama?”

Not right now. You were supposed to have a month extra. They weren’t supposed to find out so soon. “I...” you throat felt tight and dry, “I’m very unwell. The doctor doesn’t know what’s wrong because he’s never seen anything like it before.”

“Then we get a new doctor!” Yunho piped in, voice raised and slightly frantic. You really didn’t need them panicking.

“If Yeosang doesn’t know, then no one will.”

“What about Dad?” Wooyoung asked. “Does he know? Uncle Hongjoong has to know, right? Uncle Hongjoong always kn--”

“Neither of them know. We must keep it that way. So you need to pretend that I’m healthy and well for just one more month. That’s all I ask for. One month.”

You looked between all your children, trying to memorise their faces because Heavens know how long you have left.

As promised, the boys kept your secret for as long as they could--caring and tending to you as much as they could without arousing suspicion from Hongjoong or Seonghwa.

But before your month was up, you had collapsed just after a dinner--slipping in and out of consciousness while your old friend carried you up to Yeosang’s office, the rest of your family in tow, beyond worried.

Yeosang later explained, when you were fully awake, that whatever illness you had was growing at a much faster rate than he anticipated, and you had a few weeks at most.

Now, you were bedridden in your chambers, limbs too heavy and painful to move, lungs feeling like they were being pressed down from the gravity and it got harder and harder to keep your eyes open.

Not a day went by where your sons or husband visited you, and Hongjoong had rarely ever left your side. As strong as they all tried to be, their puffy crimson eyes and sniffling noses were all too obvious.

“Seonghwa? Hongjoong?” you said, voice faint and dry. “Could you go out... for a few minutes. I need to... talk to the boys.”

They exchanged glances, before following your quiet word. “What is it, Mama?” San said, crouched beside you as he held your hand once again.

Even as a man in his mid-twenties, your little baby still called you ‘Mama’ and refused to let go of his mother’s hand. Found you as the most comforting thing in the world.

“Remember... the mulberry tree? The one I showed you?”

“Yeah, Ma,” Wooyoung said leaning against the wall that faced you. Despite his playful and nonchalant nature, you knew he was the most emotional one out of the three. Which was why you were very concerned over his silence for the past few days until he finally spoke now.

“I want you three... to look after it once I’m gone.”

“You’re not going, Mother,” Yunho sniffled, tears in his eyes threatening to drop. He was the oldest (by a few minutes) and was still the most respectful. But even then, he was still a kind and soft-hearted boy, much like his brothers.

“But promise me... regardless. That you’ll look after her. And when she finally bares fruit...”

“It’ll be the tastiest fruit,” your sons recited in unison, eyes glossy with unshed tears, “better than any other on the markets.”

With the little strength you had left, you mustered a weak smile. “My good boys... You will become... fine kings one day. I have no doubt.” You let go of San’s hand, hand instantly being consumed by the cold from the lack of insulation and warm blood pumping through your veins. “Now... call in your Father and Uncle.”

And they did so, leaving the room to leave the three of you alone. “What is it, my dear?” Seonghwa caressed your cheek lovingly, but you both knew that it was more of a platonic gesture than a romantic one--more for you than it was for him.

“I know...about your love for Hongjoong.”

You could feel the tension in the air thicken to such a degree that you could slice it with the letter opener that resided on your bedside table. It was Hongjoong who spoke up. “Y/N, you need to know that we never--”

“Did anything... I know.” You look to him, that same weak smile plastering on your face. “Such a loyal friend. Never did deserve you, did I?”

He shook his head as he came down to hold your hand. “No--don’t say that. If anything, I didn’t deserve you as a friend.”

You chuckled softly, careful not to trigger another one of your coughing fits. “If I can’t say things like that... then neither can you. But I would like you both to do two final things for me.”

“Anything,” his voice was still strong, unwavering, but you knew Hongjoong long enough to see the stormy ocean behind his calm gaze, the turmoil he must be feeling right now from losing his closest and oldest friend.

“First thing is.. be happy,” you shifted your gaze over to your husband, “and you too. If you can’t with me... then at least with each other.”

For the first time, your servant let go of your hands, denying your request. “I can’t be happy without you.”

“Then learn to do so. After all, you have... the rest of your life.”

He couldn’t verbally agree to that, not when what he said was true. Not when his own heart lay in your possession--and would to until the day he passed as well. So Seonghwa took the painful step in asking what your second wish was.

You recalled the Zepheth’s symbol of your most beloved possession. Star-crossed lovers and the final union of death. Though the three of you were stuck in a sick triangle of unrequited love by the Heavens, it felt fitting for your story.

And perhaps, with your permanent presence, the fruit would finally grow.

“Bury me under the mulberry tree.”

Extra, alternative ending below If you’re not a fan of fantasy or torturous spirits or man-eating trees, just stop here.

Two young travellers searched around the ruins of a lost palace, greenery overflowing, filling every nook and cranny of the battered stone walls--a rather beautiful sight of Mother Nature reclaiming her lands.

“Where even are we, Mingi?” the shorter, more muscular one of the pair said, stumbling over vines and rubble as he followed the much taller man.

“Not where we’re meant to be, I think,” he quipped, looking at the architecture to find some clues of their whereabouts.

The other rolled his eyes. “This would’ve been a lot easier if you didn’t drop the map in the river.”

“Hey! In my defence, it was really windy and the rain made the ground slippery. Leave me alone, Jongho.”

“Not until you give me a damn map.”

Like the archaeology student he was, Mingi studied the tattered tapestry and engravings on the walls until it had hit him. “Holy mother of fresh, sweet hell.”

“What?”

Without answering his best friend’s question, the man too off running, as if he already knew the layout of the place. Jongho ran after him, screaming and almost tripping over the vegetation in the way of his heavy boots.

Once Mingi stopped, his friend held his knees, heaving to catch his breath. “What... the hell... was that for?”

Swivelling on his heel, the tall explorer had sparkles in his eyes. “This is it! The Lost Kingdom! The thing we’ve been looking for!”

Jongho’s head snapped up. “You mean you’ve been looking for? I was just dragged along by your antics as usual.” He narrowed his eyes when he finally saw where his friend took him. “A tree? You took me to see a goddamn TREE?!”

Mingi got closer the enormous mulberry tree, gazing at it as if it was the most interesting thing in the world. “Not just any tree. It’s the Queen Y/N’s tree!”

“Okay, let me get this straight,” Jongho sighed, feeling the rage burn within him like a furnace, “you took me to see a dead woman’s tree?”

“Yes, but--”

“WE ALMOST DIED, MINGI! TWICE!” He held up two fingers, expressing his point further. “AND ALL THAT FOR A GODDMAN TREE?!”

“The lore surrounding it was well worth the trip,” a voice said, the two boys’ head spinning to see a person dressed in old, fancy clothing, perched upon the swing--now completely covered with vines and moss. Both of them swore they hadn’t noticed them there. Yet, they brushed it off anyways, thinking that they just had silent movement.

“Who are you?” Mingi asked, head cocked to the side as he became familiar with the sight of them.

“The protector of this tree,” they replied. “Who are you?”

“Some travellers...sightseeing,” Jongho piped in, sceptical of this person who looked like they were in their twenties, just like them.

“You were talking about lore?” The older of the two inquired, already greatly invested in the whole place. “Are you familiar with it?”

“Why, I must be. After all, I look after her,” they said, lovingly stroking the trunk of the tree. “Would you like to hear it?”

“Yes, please!” Mingi sat down, like a child excited for story time despite knowing the book by-heart, while Jongho stayed stood up beside him.

“Well, once upon a time, there was a very strong and powerful Kingdom--”

“The Lost Kingdom!” the child-like man shot out, too giddy to hold back.

The person giggled, his antics reminding them of someone they used to know. “Yes, I believe that’s what you call it. Well, there were three children that lived here; one was of royalty, one of nobility, and the third was a servant--but they were the best of friends, despite their status.”

The muscular boy narrowed his eyes at the childish tone the person was using, not liking how it sounded--how it started to make him feel weary.

“They planted this tree,” they tapped the trunk with their hand, “right here, and nurtured it for as long as they could. As they grew older, the royal and nobleman got married and had children together, while the servant dedicated his life to helping them.”

Jongho sat down, feeling more dreary than normal, coughing a little, while Mingi did the same, not feeling so well either.

“They were all still close, regardless of personal disputes between them, but their love for each other began to weaken only once the tree remained barren of fruit. But they kept up hope, saying that it will the next year.”

The travellers had found it hard to breath, as if there was a pressure on their lungs, squeezing them flat.

“But then, the royal found out they were dying, so they asked to buried under the mulberry tree. In their mind, their body would give the tree the nutrients it needed to finally bare the mulberries they so desperately craved. But no fruit had bore, making the spirit of the royal restless.”

Jongho coughed violently, thick red liquid dribbling down his chin, looking over to Mingi who was hunched over in pain. "But... that’s a fruitless... mulberry tree.”

It appeared to be the wrong thing to say, as their brows furrowed, scowl pulling at their lips, the swing stopped swinging. “And who are you to say that?”

“Because I study... goddamn plants.”

Then it clicked in Mingi’s head--what was going on. “Jongho... shut up--” His chest squeezed harder, a yelp escaping his lips as he toppled to the side.

“Carrying on from that rude interruption,” the person glared at the younger of the two, who was now lying on his side, curled into the foetal position, “the nobleman and servant then died a while after, and were buried side-by-side with the royal.”

Overgrown roots of the tree began to soften, becoming more flexible like snakes as they began to slither their way to the two young boys.

“But even their bodies weren’t enough. So the royal’s spirit swore to use whatever they could to make the tree finally bare fruit.”

The roots wrapped around each boys ankle, spiralling up until it wrapped the two of them in a cocoon. And neither of them could do anything, too tired to yell or move around, succumbing to the sweet release of sleep.

Getting up off the swing, the person rested their forehead on the trunk of the tree.

“And it will be the tastiest fruit. Better than any other on the markets.”

A/N: If you didn’t get it, the tree not growing any fruit was a metaphor of unrequited love. I feel like I didn’t really explain that properly, but there you go.

135 notes · View notes

bottomlouisficfest · 4 years

Photo

Now that the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020 has concluded, we know that a lot of readers will have more time to catch up on some of the amazing fics they may have missed over the past two months. We encourage everyone to check out the full collection and to scroll through this masterpost of the 70 incredible fics that were posted during this year’s fest.

Please be sure to give all of these fics love - offer kudos, leave comments, reblog their fic posts on Tumblr, and retweet the fic posts on Twitter to help spread the word about these fics. The fest ending does not mean that our appreciation and reading of these fics has to end too.

Thank you for following along with this fest! We appreciate every single one of you - and we’ll see you later this year for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2021. 😊💜

Rainbow Bloom

A fic by dandelionfairies on AO3 | @dandelionfairies on Tumblr | dandelionfairi1 on Twitter

22k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis is in denial. Louis has been in denial for far too long. Then Harry enters his life and everything changes.

Breakable Heaven

A fic by amomentoflove on AO3 | @daggerandrose on Tumblr | dagger_rosefics on Twitter

44k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“What do you think?” Louis gets captured by Harry’s green eyes, unable to look away or even take a breath.

“I think you’re the most magnificent creature I’ve ever met.”

“You must not have met many creatures then.”

Harry’s eyes glance downward to Louis’ lips and his tongue darts out to wet his own. “None like you.”

bang bang (my baby shot me down)

A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter

16k | Not Rated | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I walked in on them having sex again,” Niall says after a beat of hesitation.

Liam still looks confused. “Why’s this different from every other time we’ve seen them having sex?” Liam asks, and oh, Harry knows Liam really doesn’t want to know the answer to this one.

Niall’s gone silent then, and Harry almost thinks they’re in the clear. Liam is back to scrolling through his phone, and Zayn is whispering something to Louis that makes the older boy giggle. They’re going to get through this car ride without a murder.

But then Niall’s covering his face with his sweatshirt, taking in a breath and on his exhale, Harry hears him mutter, “Louis was wearing knickers.”

Liam’s phone clatters to the floor of the car.

Don't You Know That I'm a Moon in Daylight?

A fic by wildholly on AO3 | @bottomlwt on Tumblr | bottomloulou on Twitter

58k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 79. Louis and Harry fell in love in the 18th century, Louis wanted Harry to convert him into a vampire, but he ended up resenting Harry for it. Fast forward to our modern days, they haven’t seen each other since then, but one day they meet again through a mutual friend. Harry was bitter for a long time, but he accepted that being angry wouldn't erase the fact that Louis was the love of his life. He wanted to court and spoil Louis like in their original time period, but Louis avoided him every time Harry tried to reconnect. Happy ending!

practice in pencil, seal it in pen

A fic by loubellies on AO3 | @loubellies on Tumblr | loubellies on Twitter

16k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 174: AU where drunk Harry lifts Louis up after someone says “bottoms up”. Louis blushes at Harry’s antics, flustered that his best friend knew him more than he thought. Friends to lovers with a happy ending please

or Harry is in love with Louis but he doesn't know.

tastes like summer, smiles like may

A fic by outropeace on AO3 | @outropeace on Tumblr | outropetals on Twitter

47k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Is this true?” Harry grabbed the beta by the shoulders. “Bryce, where did you hear that?”

“There’s rumors going around the castle,” he smirked. “stories about his beauty and his cold attitude. They know he is an omega only because of his scent, but he has never had a heat.”

“Do you know what this means?”

Bryce smirk grew into a big smile. “He can’t give you an heir.”

A cold prince, an alpha with nothing left to lose and a kingdom with a secret.

blinded by the sparks

A fic by wallstracktwo on AO3 | @wallstracktwo on Tumblr

22k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"You can’t even keep your lies straight. Mike has the memory of an elephant and can remember every single detail about every single person he’s ever met, so don’t stand there and tell me that he mixed you up with someone else.” He took back Harry’s cigarette. “I saw you exchanging lower chips for higher ones. I saw you counting the cards. There is no fucking way you won seven thousand dollars tonight honestly. And so I will repeat myself — I want in. Fifty-fifty.”

Harry was completely taken aback by the stunningly attractive man standing in front of him. He made several attempts to say something — opening and closing his mouth at least twice before he was finally able to string a few words together. “What? No. No way. No. Sorry, but I work alone.”

That was the truth too — he had never trusted anyone enough to let them get close, especially when it came to his scamming, so having a partner was completely, utterly out of the question.

“Don’t you think you need someone on the…” Louis’ tongue darted out, licking his lips as his eyes flickered to Harry’s mouth, one eyebrow cocking up. “...inside.”

Or - Harry is a scammer who drifts from casino to casino. Louis is the new waiter who wants in on the scam.

somewhere in between

A fic by soldouthaz on AO3 | @soldouthaz on Tumblr | soldouthaz on Twitter

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis wakes up early. He brushes his teeth and can only stomach a piece of toast for breakfast, dressing quickly and heading for the car. He pulls into the parking lot of the Department of Dominance and Submission just as they’re unlocking the doors. It takes him all of an hour in the uncomfortable chairs to fill out the paperwork to the best and most accurate of his ability, handing it over to the receptionist as soon as he’s finished and wiping his sweaty palms on his business trousers.

There’s a high chance that within ten to fifteen business days, Louis will be matched with a dominant.

Shit.

On My Mind All The Time, Say You're Mine

A fic by Safetypinprince on AO3 | @roselouis on Tumblr | femboyIouis on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Dude, we’re inside, and it’s night time. Those don’t look as cool as you think they do.” Louis could kick himself, he sounded so stupid, but it certainly got the guy’s attention.

It was at that unfortunate moment that he noticed several other things about this hot asshole, that he hadn’t noticed just staring from afar. First, when Louis spoke to him, his gaze was kind of unfocused behind his sunglasses, and secondly, that he had a red and white cane folded up under his arm.

“I’m… Blind,” the man chuckled, awkwardly.

Louis wanted to melt into a puddle out of pure embarrassment.

“I— am so sorry. I have to go.”

“Hey, wait, wait,” the man soothed, grabbing at Louis’ shoulders before he could get away.

“I’m sorry,” Louis repeated, looking down at his shoes.

“It’s alright,” He cackled. “I get it a lot. More than you know.”

Alternatively titled: and they were roommates.

A Silent Whisper (That's Left Unsaid)

A fic by MyEnglishRose on AO3 | @lwtisloved on Tumblr | darlinlou on Twitter

50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“So… we’re doing this?”

Louis shrugs, suddenly acting disinterested.

“Your call, Curly.”

Instead of a verbal response, Harry suddenly takes Louis’ left hand in his. The black ring seems to nag him as the fire’s light reflects its polished edges. He ignores Louis’ curious gaze as he quickly takes off one of his own rings — the rose one —, sliding it on Louis’ middle finger. It is a little large and when he lets go of his hand, Louis has to curl it into a fist so the ring doesn’t immediately fall off.

“We’ll tell them it’s a promise ring, not an actual engagement,” Harry declares, trying to ignore how warm his cheeks feel. Hopefully, it can’t be seen as he is facing away from the fireplace.

“Right… could have gotten me a fitted ring though, my Harry ten years ago was more thoughtful.”

Louis’ tone is light and teasing again. It creates a small smile on Harry’s lips.

“Someday,” he whispers before he even registers it himself.

They both ignore it.

Or. A Fake Relationship & Exes to Lovers AU ft a failed proposal ten years ago, an oblivious Harry, an overworked Louis, Zayn as the protective best friend, a meddling aunt and a lot of talks about weddings and rings.

sweet like honey

A fic by falsegoodnight on AO3 | @falsegoodnight on Tumblr | falsegoodnight on Twitter

33k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Weeks of flat shopping with their limited budget with Louis as a librarian aid and Harry as a barista and arguments about whether a balcony or extended bathroom suite were more important (Harry wanted to be able to feel the crisp night’s air and watch the sun set and Louis just wanted to take long bubble baths) led to them stumbling across the perfect fit. A small flat only ten minutes from campus with a cramped but lovely balcony and an included bath.

It’s affordable too… well, sort of. But they always manage. Louis picks up more shifts as an aid, adapting a habit of bringing his Psych textbooks and homework with him to finish in between duties, and later his script so he can quietly practice lines with little distraction.

Harry also increases his number of shifts at the cafe and valiantly endures the nasty customers who for some reason flock to their establishment like moths to a flame.

For a while, it’s enough.

Or, Harry and Louis need money and they find an unconventional solution in the form of PornHub. It’s not supposed to be a big deal.

Spoonful of Sugar

A fic by zanni_scaramouche on AO3 | @zanniscaramouche on Tumblr

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry Styles.

A name better suited for a myth than a man. Like the name of the devil, people either whisper it in fear or laugh it off as fable. Cut it open and this city’s heart doesn’t bleed red. It’s snowy white, and it pulses in the tight grip of Lucifer himself.

Louis Tomlinson cares for his family above all else, a fact that’s led him on a twisted path peddling drugs to support them. Just as he’s made the decision to jump ship, Louis gets snared between the two largest crime syndicates in the city. To keep his family safe he’s forced to trust the man that failed to keep his promise two years ago, the resident drug lord he’s unknowingly been working for, Harry Styles.

Let's Break the Internet

A fic by louizsv on AO3 | @ashleyjohnsonfanaccount on Tumblr | piccadillyplum on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Louis/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I’ll tell you what,” Sam leans forward in his chair and steeples his fingers in front of his face, “If you actually make an account and sell nudie pics and porn for more than three months, I’ll believe you.”

Louis purses his lips, ignoring the returning blush on his cheeks at the thought of having to film himself in compromising positions or taking photos of himself without any clothes on. Raising his chin defiantly, Louis accepts the challenge.

“Fine,” he agrees, “But when I win, you have to make one too.”

Lips quirked, Sam nods and holds out a hand, “Deal.” -- Or, the one where Louis is an Only Fans baby.

in a sea of mist

A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr

126k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

A Greek Mythology/Camp Half-Blood AU where Harry is lost, the road to peace is a wretched one, and somehow, through a mist of confusion and regrets, Louis seems to be the only thing that makes sense and everything Harry needs.

Across the Grey, Salty Sea

A fic by thecheshirepussycat on AO3 | @the-cheshire-pussy-cat on Tumblr | Bee_With_Mee on Twitter

19k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 212: Alex from Dunkirk and French escort/prostitute Louis who ends up in Alex’s quarters more nights than not. Alex gives him his dog tag to wear maybe just a lot of smut and dirty talk with Louis being a pretty princess.

When Our Worlds They Fall Apart

A fic by edensrose on AO3 | @holdingthornsandroses on Tumblr | thetrashpigeon on Twitter

42k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry put his hand over his heart as if Louis had wounded him. “You’re so harsh, my liege! Perhaps you need to relieve some tension…” He let his voice trail off suggestively.

“The day I ask YOU to relieve tension is the day I lose all my wits and join the Imperials,” Louis said. “It will never happen.”

Written for the Bottom Louis Fic Fest 2020- Prompt 325: Star Wars AU with Harry as Han Solo and Louis as Leia.

Thank you, five.

A fic by nouies on AO3 | @nouies on Tumblr | _nouies on Twitter

5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Harry?” He says as soon as he recognises the other man.

“Louis? Wh-what are you doing here?” Harry asks with a frown.

“Well, I’m here for rehearsal,” Louis announces with a proud smile.

There’s a flash of confusion on Harry’s face. “What do you mean rehearsal? I got the part, you didn’t.”

Prompt 195: Hamilton AU

Know I Think You're Awesome, Right?

A fic by princesshalo on AO3 | @princesshalo on Tumblr | tpwkorra on Twitter

60k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Well, that’s not very Treat People With Kindness of you.”

“Neither is approaching someone with the sole intent of criticizing a cause they’re clearly passionate about, given the amount of time they’ve dedicated to advocating for it,” Louis snaps.

“Sure, but I’m not the one with the button,” Harry shrugs.

“So, is there actually something I can help you with, or did you just come to push me into pepper spraying you as well?” Louis is quickly growing impatient. Hell, he was impatient the moment that Harry made his grand entrance on campus yesterday.

“I’m just trying to assess the environment here,” Harry says, “Because if this is all you’ve got to offer trans people who just want to be able to use the bathroom in peace like the rest of us, then I’m not sure I fit in.”

“Allow me to save you the trouble, then: you don’t.”

Based on the prompt: a college AU where Louis is a hippie, very good vibes activist and Harry is a punk, anarchist that always gets involved in violent protests.

show you the stars in daylight

A fic by bruisedhoney on AO3 | @yvesaintlourent on Tumblr | bruisedhoney on Twitter

13k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis laughed, the sound loud and borderline obnoxious. Harry winced. “Are you kidding, Haz? I wouldn’t even look twice at someone that couldn’t pick me up.”

And, well. That was new information to Harry. It’s not like Louis had ever mentioned to him that he was his type in any way, shape, or form. Harry shifted closer into the space between Louis’s legs, even more intrigued than before. “Why not?” he asked curiously, all pink lips and big curls. Louis smiled.

“Tiny, innocent, little Harold. Need someone that can pick me up, don’t I? I like being tossed around a little. You know, pinned down and made to take it. Lifted up like I’m nothing,” Louis said it all with a confident smile, his sharp little teeth tugging at his bottom lip as he locked eyes with the jock across the kitchen. “Think he might come over here. Move over. I don’t want him to think we’re together.”

Or, the one where Louis has a type and at sixteen and scrawy, it's definitely not his best friend's little brother Harry...ten years later, he changes his mind.

Freeway of Love (In a Pink Cadillac)

A fic by MsHydeStylinson on AO3 | @mizzhydes on Tumblr | MsHydeStylinson on Twitter

33k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Did you like them?” Louis asked in a seductive tone, propping his elbow against the armrest, chin resting against his fingers.

“I’m not going to answer that,” Harry informed, lips pressed in a hard line.

“I don’t think you have to,” Louis smirked nodding slightly towards his telltale bulge and watched as Harry reddened from his neck to his forehead in a flash.

”Please, I beg you to put that phone away,” Harry pleaded with a suffering expression plastered on his face.

“Please…” Harry whined.

Or,

Louis was on his way to Miami to visit an old friend. Harry was going there for a little R&R and take in the sights and sounds. A sudden upgrade in seating brought these polar opposites together. The universe works in mysterious ways and they are unknowingly about to embark on an adventure they will surely remember for a lifetime.

Prompt 107: Sugar daddy AU inspired by this tweet: “going to sit next to the richest looking middle aged man on my flight and scroll through my nudes for three hours straight” with rich daddy Harry and bratty baby Louis.

Won't Keep You My (Dirty Little) Secret

A fic by lovelykits on AO3 | @lovelykits on Tumblr

16k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I got asked out today,” Louis comments.

“Okay,” Harry shifts.

“Did you hear me? I said I got asked out.”

"You always get asked out.”

“Yeah well this time they didn’t believe I had a boyfriend!”

Or Louis and Harry have been together since the end of last year and somehow no one knows about it.

A Place With Skeletons

A fic by whoknows on AO3 | @crazyupsetter on Tumblr

50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I would choose anyone other than you,” Louis says, picking up his train of thought again. He feels a lot more cornered and defensive when they’re in Harry’s house, for some reason. It doesn’t really make sense, considering that this time, Louis was the one who couldn’t hack it any longer. He broke first. There’s something about being in Harry’s space, though, the green and earthy feeling of it. It should feel like open space with all the plants, but Louis has never felt more claustrophobic than he does when he’s here.

Harry’s chest moves against his back, a sharp intake of air. Before he can open his mouth to defend himself, Louis keeps going, “If I had a choice in any of this, I would have been saved by that elderly security guard over you. I wouldn’t mind having to have the occasional cuddle with her.”

Pretty and Pink

A fic by LarryInPanties on AO3 | @larryinpantiess on Tumblr | babielouu on Twitter

12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis points a finger at the man’s pec, “I’ll have you know Harry, anyone would be lucky to have me as a hitchhiker buddy. I’m nice, I don’t take up too much space, and I’m pretty.”

He’s not lying.

“Let me get this straight,” Harry gives Louis a look when he lets out a tiny laugh. “Ya’ want to take a ride with me but you don’t even know where ya’ wanna go yet?”

Harry never lets anyone come on the road with him.

Then, a cute hitchhiker, Louis comes around.

Cold As Ice And Everything Nice

A fic by harriblou on AO3 | @harriblou on Tumblr | harriblou on Twitter

40k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

A young boy about Harry’s age was zoomed into the camera, blushing a bright red and breathing heavily and as he bowed. The crowd was cheering for him loudly and every movement he made was bashful and flustered. He had on a very nice skate dress that was purple. His name, hometown, skate scores, and all sorts of information was in a banner on the bottom half of the screen. He was really young, especially compared to all the other competitors, which was the second thing he noticed.

The first was that the boy was easily the prettiest in the entire world, the prettiest boy Harry’s ever seen. He felt his asthma squeeze his throat and his heart beat faster and his hands get a little more clammy.

or in which Louis is a professional ice-skater and he meets Harry, who offers to clean the ice for him.

You'll wait for me only.

A fic by signofthetmies on AO3 | @tired-eyes-lou on Tumblr

9k | Teen & Up | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry nips at the bondmark on Louis’ neck, Louis’ hands go to his hips, grounding him. He allows himself this, knowing that his Omega needs it too. Harry pulls back, “Go on a date with me.” He rushes out, looking at Louis’ eyes.

Louis laughs and shakes his head. “No, Louis, I’m serious. We’ve bonded for life anyway, might as well try.” Louis looks at him, “You’ve been thinking about this a lot.” Louis points out, Harry nods. “Okay.” Louis says and walks out leaving Harry. “Okay what?!”

_______________________

Prompt 15: Omega Louis is a lawyer that worked on omega rights cases. Alpha Harry is a corporate lawyer. Louis and Harry used to be childhood archenemies, until Louis moved to another school and they never saw each other again. Now, they’re both adults that happen to work in the same place. They behave like children and still share a mutual dislike. Both travel to work together for a case. One night they both bond accidentally. Slowly but surely, they fall in love. Enemies to lovers!

through the wheatfields and the coastlines

A fic by thepolourryexpress on AO3 | @thepolourryexpress on Tumblr | ZOUlSBUSONE on Twitter

53k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“You’re not from around here, are ya?” Hot Cowboy asks, tracking his little lamb with his eyes. Louis frowns slightly, having thought he was doing pretty well at not sticking out like a sore thumb. It’s not like he’s not from around here — it’s not his first summer he’s spent at his grandparents'. But he supposes that the Manhattan city lifestyle that he’s used to is always going to shine through.

“I’m visiting family for the summer,” Louis explains, cheeks a little pink. “Trying to get some work done without distractions.”

Or, alternatively, the one where Louis needs inspiration, and a certain cowboy and his lamb are the perfect distraction.

The Boy with the Tin Chest and a Glass Heart

A fic by louloubaby92 on AO3 | @louloubabys1992 on Tumblr

18k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Alpha Harry Styles, world-renowned author of fairy-tales, is being persuaded by the Beta, Liam Payne to hire a new illustrator. Since Harry’s own illustrations are too graphic for what is supposed to be children’s stories, Liam feels the need is dire. Omega Louis does not agree with Liam since he believes that Harry’s stories are fine just the way they are. Of course this has nothing to do with Louis being totally biased or totally head over heels for Harry. It certainly has nothing to do with being jealous of the mysterious omega illustrator Liam has in mind to team Harry up with.

Seriously, it has nothing to do with that at all. Nothing, absolutely nothing, zilch, nada.

Yeah...

This Glass House

A fic by BabyPowderLou on AO3 | @compactblue on Tumblr | princessbluelou on Twitter

42k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

While deployed, Alpha Harry gets injured by an IED explosion, leaving him to deal with severe injuries in its devastating aftermath. During his road to acceptance and recovery he learns with the help of Louis and their children just how important family can be for the mind, body, and soul.

singing your praises

A fic by loubellies on AO3 | @loubellies on Tumblr | loubellies on Twitter

6k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 86: Louis rides Harry while wearing his packer’s jersey/sweater and gets his ass ate.

made for lovin' you

A fic by cuddlerlouis on AO3 | @cuddlerlouis on Tumblr | burntromances on Twitter

52k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I’m in,” is all Louis receives. He blinks a few times, making sure he’s reading this right.

“For real?” he asks, just to be a hundred percent sure.

“Yes,” pops up. “How do you wanna pursue?” The alpha adds, like he’s on a special mission or something.

“I’m gonna call us a cab to go to mine. Once I know it’s here, I’ll leave and join you there,” Louis explains. “I’ll text you to go around five minutes before it arrives, so it doesn’t look suspicious, and our friends don’t notice us leaving together.”

“Noted.”

So Louis does, and ten minutes later, he’s sat in the backseat of a cab, next to Harry Styles, the person he hates the most but unfortunately still finds attractive. They’re on their way to fuck in Louis’ flat.

Splendid.

Or the one where a quick, horny decision ruins Louis’ summer plans, but may also lead to unexpected discoveries. Featuring the road trip of dreams, misunderstandings, and a bit of fate.

Stuck On You

A fic by WritewhatIwant on AO3

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis’ life revolves around his stickers. Harry’s life revolves around his job. The universe has decided their worlds should revolve around each other.

On the Edge

A fic by zanni_scaramouche on AO3 | @zanniscaramouche on Tumblr

47k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Figure skating is as vital to Louis’ identity as his DNA, so when his skates go missing right before the last Olympics of his career there may be a meltdown only vanilla bath salts can fix. Well, that and the stupidly charming hockey player he met on the plane.

Harry’s too old to be the wonder kid and too young to be taken seriously in the NHL. As an alternate thrown in at the last second, he fights to prove himself on the national team at the largest sporting event known to man. Or he will, once he gets off this flight and can focus on something other than the fussy figure skater and his stunningly blue eyes.

A baggage mix-up skews both of their perfectly laid plans for gold, forcing the two to work together as the clock clicks towards the minute they’re expected to shine on centre ice.

Be a Good Girl For Me

A fic by wannabebestseller on AO3 | @sincetheywere16and18 on Tumblr

9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Based on this prompt: “AU where Harry is Louis’ older brother’s best friend. He catches Louis dancing around his room in panties and blackmails him, saying that Louis has to do anything he says or else he’ll tell Louis’ family that he wears girly underwear. Secretly soft for him, Harry gives him easy tasks and uses the whole thing to spend more time with Louis. Eventually, the orders begin to escalate and Harry teases Lou about his secret, making Louis shy and embarrassed. Louis loves the attention though, and forms a crush on his brother’s best friend. Lots of feminization, secret relationship, and enemies to lovers. Thank you!”

dripping like spider milk

A fic by raspberryoats on AO3 | @raspberryoatss on Tumblr | raspberryoatss on Twitter

64k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

When he sees the alpha, his brown hair curling around the top of his neck and his broad back that’s filled out over the past couple of years, Louis freezes for a moment. The alpha turns around, Louis’ surprised expression mirrored on his own for a fraction of a second before he schools it into a big, yet shy grin and a wave of his huge hand. With his nostrils flared, Louis knows that he can smell him, too.

They never hired alphas, except for—

“Harry.”

or prompt 110: Louis is a retired porn star and he gets invited back to test a new line of sex products the company he worked for is releasing (would include photoshoots and videos of Louis sampling certain toys). Harry is there to photograph, film, and intimately help him along the way (preferably in a private setting).

But It's Useless

A fic by thinlines on AO3 | @thinlinez on Tumblr

26k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Hey.”

Louis was even hallucinating now. He closed his eyes.

“Hey, you.”

He chuckled wetly, head still leaning against the door.

“Can you get out of the way? You're blocking the door.”

He exhaled sharply before slowly turning around. His eyes fixed onto muddy Nike trainers before it traveled up to impossibly short jogging shorts. The yellow color was atrocious, simply ghastly.

“What happened to being polite, Harold?”

OR Omega Louis would never guess that he would be trying to hack into Alpha Harry's Wifi. That is until everything changes when he tries to get to know his enemy.

Yours To Lose

A fic by loulicate on AO3 | loulicaterecs on Twitter

26k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I think I know the person that matches your descriptions of your dream alpha.”

“Who? And oh not my dream alpha, god you’re making me sound like a teenage school girl. I’m a mum, H.” They laugh as they watch kids gather in front of the verandah, getting ready to go back to the orphanage.

“Well, you’re gonna have to find out.” Harry winks before standing up to start cleaning their spot.

Or Louis always gets distracted with his mummy duty and he eventually catches Harry's attention.

Sweet Scary Creatures

A fic by Specklesock on AO3 | @specklelouis on Tumblr | specklelouiie on Twitter

13k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

They stare into each other's eyes for a while until Louis remembers this is too intimate and looks at Harry’s hands on his thigh. It spans a big portion of his thigh and Louis has always been insecure about how thick he is, so he loves that Harry has huge, dustbin hands that hold him and makes him feel smaller, safer.

We Are But Dust and Shadows

A fic by louisbarnes on AO3 | @tomlinsonbarnes on Tumblr | dreamersdiving on Twitter

51k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Um, okay. I’m going to…” Harry gestured over his shoulder and gave the two of them an awkward smile.

“Wait! You got a letter.” Zayn held out the letter and Harry’s face dropped. He took the letter from Zayn, gaze locked on it like it was a bomb ready to explode. “What is it?”

“Probably just from the New York Institute,” Harry muttered. He hurried away, ripping the envelope open as he went.

“Remember when you said you didn’t want to fuck him?” Zayn broke the silence and Louis scoffed.

“Quite clearly, actually.”

Zayn grinned. “Your eye twitches when you lie.”

“Fuck off.”

Or: Louis is part of a well respected Shadowhunter family, and Harry is the Mundane turned Shadowhunter who just can’t seem to get it right.

it's hard to fight naked

A fic by bluestarwitch on AO3 | @loustarlight on Tumblr | IwtstarIight on Twitter

11k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 6: Louis and Harry are roommates, but they cannot stand each other. When Harry heard Louis moan his name while Louis was riding a dildo in Harry’s room (Louis thought he was alone at home), Harry couldn’t stop himself and so he ended up fucking Louis against the mattress. Happy ending!

or where Louis leaves dirty socks on the couch, Zayn does assignments while he's high, and Harry is hopelessly crushing on his roommate.

social cues

A fic by outropeace on AO3 | @outropeace on Tumblr | outropetals on Twitter

56k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

To Harry, Louis was becoming as tangible and essential as music in his life. He still was a mystery but at the same time, he was one of the most real things Harry had. He just hoped he could live up to the image Louis probably had in his mind of him.

He could play the part, after all, what was published of him wasn’t as detached from reality. He didn’t think of himself as a rockstar cliche, although he couldn't deny he did sleep around, partied a lot, and did some drugs. But then again, wasn’t that what the majority of his friends back in his hometown were doing at college?

Harry wanted to impress Louis, he didn’t want to disappoint or leave his expectations unfulfilled, so he’d give him the full rockstar experience.

It was a very simple plan, what could possibly go wrong?

hereafter

A fic by larryent on AO3 | @larryent on Tumblr | oflarryent on Twitter

13k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"A legacy is every life you’ve touched. And you’ve touched mine twice."

On the coast of San Franciso in 2024 is when Harry falls in love all over again.

“This thing upon me is not death but it’s as real, .... this thing upon me like a flower a feast, believe me is not death and is not glory.” — Charles Bukowski, old man, dead in a room

smoke between your teeth

A fic by soldouthaz on AO3 | @soldouthaz on Tumblr | soldouthaz on Twitter

37k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Alright, fine. What is it, then?" Louis asks. "Give me the best you’ve got. What’s this big reason why I smoke?"

Harry’s head lolls backward on the back of the sofa, a dopey grin on his face even though his eyes are already halfway closed - that look he gives Louis when he��s about to spout some incoherent bout of psychological bullshit.

“Oral fixation,” Harry mutters as delightfully as he can muster, his tone suggesting that it should be obvious.

Louis tries to stop his addiction to cigarettes and discovers he's been addicted to Harry for much, much longer.

calm me down (before i sleep)

A fic by leeanndarling on AO3 | @erodiansunflower on Tumblr | leeann_darling on Twitter

6k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 24: Harry is a sex shop owner that has a crush on Louis, the shy customer who flirts with him while buying cute buttplugs, lace panties, and collars. One day, Louis asked Harry to help him put on a corset (they end up fucking in the dressing room). Things escalate quickly from there, so they start seeing each other seriously while trying other sex stuff.

This World’s Ashes

A fic by sunshineandthemoonlight on AO3 | @sunshineandthemoonlight on Tumblr

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The man stares at him, and all Harry can hear is his own heartbeat, racing.

Then the stranger turns away. He walks a few paces and bends down, picking up a large knife from the ground and shoving it into a pouch attached to his belt.

“I won’t hurt you, you know.”

Harry’s eyes snap up to the man’s face. He’s looking at Harry sincerely, palms held up as though in surrender. There’s still a knife in his right hand, though, so Harry is only slightly reassured.

Harry swallows to combat the dryness of his throat, and then says, “I won’t hurt you either.”

A post-apocalypse AU where Harry, battling his past as he survives in the woods, has learnt not to trust anyone except his dog. Then Louis crashes into his life, with his bright spirit and soft lips, pulling Harry from the depths of a loneliness he hadn’t realised he was drowning in. But there is danger lurking, and Harry’s not the only one wrestling with his past.

A Springtime's Wilt, an Autumn's Bloom

A fic by snowcaplou on AO3 | snowcaplou on Twitter

20k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“What about you Harry? Maybe you should apply for the position,” she teases.

“Oi! You better not be trying to get rid of my best driver-- I can’t go looking for a replacement, I’m too busy!” Louis says with a playful slap to Savannah’s shoulder. It's jestful, like the rest of their conversation, but there is a possessive bite to his words-- my best driver-- the words bounce through Harry’s ears until he can just hear the words my and mine. It falls deaf on Savannah’s beta senses, but for a minute Harry thinks he can sense the same words zooming through Louis’ thoughts.

My, mine.

My alpha.

And woah, Harry’s taking it too far. At least, he thinks he’s taking it too far, but when he looks back up from his plate, Louis’ eyes are heavy on his, and for a fleeting second, Harry can pretend he heard Louis say it.

Harry is Louis' personal chauffeur, and although he hides his feelings for his boss behind a wall of rigid professionalism, Louis still manages to squeeze through the cracks.

Starlight’s Crossing

A fic by smittenwithlouis on AO3 | @smittenwithlouis on Tumblr | smittenwlouis on Twitter

30k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He can picture it so clearly, as he holds onto Louis’ sleeping body. How they’d go exploring every inch of the galaxy without a care in the world. He builds a fairytale future in his mind, one that includes marriage, kids, and growing old together. Even after such a short time together, Harry knows that he’d say yes to anything and everything this man ever asked for. He’d follow him to the ends of the galaxy if that’s what Louis wanted.

And that thought terrifies Harry.

Or: All it takes is one night for Harry and Louis' life to change forever. Fast-forward four years, and they embark on an adventure of a lifetime across the universe.

Floating

A fic by littleLouve on AO3 | @larents on Tumblr | louvees on Twitter

10k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The one where Louis has control over water in every form but he doesn't know what to do with it. Harry is here to guide him.

don't want no other shade of blue

A fic by padfootyoudog on AO3 | @louisisworthit on Tumblr

43k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“I know you’re putting on an act,” says Harry after a moment, and Louis scowls when he realises the prince is actually amused.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” says Louis.

“All I’ve heard over the past couple of years are rumours of Prince Louis’ kindness, and generosity, and oh, he’s so handsome I can barely pour his tea without shaking!” says Harry, putting on a silly, high-pitched voice for the last bit. Louis’ scowl deepens. “I would already know if you were just another selfish, bratty omega prince. You can’t fool me, darling, but I admire your efforts.”

“As you said,” Louis grits out, “those are only rumours. I assure you, I’m a terrible person.”

—

prompt 339: it was foretold that Alpha Prince Harry would be mated to a beautiful male omega with eyes that could rival the stone amethyst, but Omega Prince Louis refuses to believe it.

Loving You's the Antidote

A fic by neverheartbroken on AO3 | @neverheartbroken on Tumblr

5k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 302: Alpha Harry & Omega Louis are divorced but still spend each other’s heat/rut together because they only really trust each other but things get complicated when Louis (or Harry, author’s choice) spend it with someone else. Cue angst with a happy ending. (Prompt Inspiration: Prompt 98 from the 2019 BLFF)

dirty laundry looks good on you

A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr

50k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

When Louis Tomlinson finds his clothes lying in a sad soapy mess on top of the washing machine in which they are supposed to be, he acts upon his anger and retaliates. What he doesn’t expect is having to deal with a six-feet tall, curly-haired and dimpled man in return, who seems to arouse confusing feelings within him and to make his life take an unexpected turn for the better (or worse?).

OR; the utility room is a great place to fall in love.

no good unless it's real

A fic by fackinglouis on AO3 | @fackinglouis on Tumblr

17k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Here,” Harry says, pulling a strap off his shoulder so he can dig his phone out of his bag. “We can get each other’s numbers.”

Louis shakes his head. “I have the practice’s number already,” he tells him. “And my number is definitely on file somewhere.”

Harry pauses, smile quirking a bit as he stares at Louis. The sun is still in his eyes, though, with his sunglasses pushed up onto his head still, so Louis credits his funny face to that.

“I’m trying to give you my number, Louis,” Harry explains around a breathy laugh.

“Oh,” Louis blinks, processing that. He scratches his temple, moves a piece of longer fringe back behind his ear, and then nods. “Okay.”

Or: Louis is a very busy farmer who’s just trying to make it to his next nap and Harry’s the new hot vet that’s determined to infiltrate every area of his life.

Since the Future

A fic by bluestarwitch on AO3 | @loustarlight on Tumblr | IwtstarIight on Twitter

49k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"It's done."

The words were barely above a whisper when they left Harry's mouth, but they hit Louis with the force of a freight train. It was done. Holy fuck. They had created a time machine. And tomorrow, they were travelling to the future.

To Love without Reason

A fic by MuggleMirror on AO3 | @mugglemirror on Tumblr | mugglemirror on Twitter

8k | Not Rated | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Come on in, soldier,” Louis pats Harry’s chest and walks away, leaving Harry to follow behind.

Harry stands in the living room, looking around at Louis’ dwelling. Family pictures placed high on a shelf, certificates of Louis’ practice, and other trinkets that make Harry entirely too nostalgic.

“I have to warn you,” Louis says as he puts the kettle on, the water droplets from his hair trickling down the golden skin of his back. “The door jams if you lock it so you'll have to leave it ajar.”

Harry acknowledges with a soft hum, too entranced by Louis’ glistening skin to form a coherent reply.

Sedative Duty.

A fic by daddyharrie on AO3 | @daddyharrie on Tumblr | daddyharrie on Twitter

46k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Pop-star of the moment Louis Tomlinson is on his third-world tour. He decides to hire renowned professional dominant Harry Styles to unwind while on the road. In an effort not to raise suspicion by the crew, fans, and press, Harry pretends to be his bodyguard. He ends up being far more than that.

You and I 'till the day we die

A fic by Allmylovelarrie on AO3 | flightlesslarri on Twitter

10k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 124: A fic inspired by Groupie Love by Lana Del Rey, where Harry is a Rockstar and Louis is his cute little boyfriend who tries to hide himself in the middle of the crowd. (Preferably set in the 80s)

Give So Much (Not Enough)

A fic by skinsuk on AO3 | @wifeylouis on Tumblr

24k | Mature | Louis/Harry, Louis/Alex, Harry/Tess | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“For my little lion,” Louis slid the smoothie bowl in front of Oscar, letting him dig in with his little hands. “And for daddy.”

He didn’t process the bowl in front of him, the push across the table causing a raspberry to roll off and fall on his lap, because Louis calling himself mummy may make him feel all sorts of mushy emotions, but Louis addressing Harry as daddy was suddenly having a very different effect on him. Since when did Louis saying daddy out loud render him speechless?

“Daddy’s still sleepy, but we’re up bright and early right Ossie?” Louis’ cooing shook him out of his daze. The man coughed, picking the raspberry off his lap and swallowing it with unintentional, and very unnecessary, eye contact with Louis. “Well, is it better than your protein smoothies and why?”

Harry chuckled, spooning another heap of the strawberry banana goodness into his mouth, “Way better sweetheart.”

A friends to lovers au with tons of mama Louis and domesticity.

New York's Beauty

A fic by nocontrol_lou on AO3 | @saxophone17 on Tumblr | nocontrol_louis on Twitter

5k | Mature | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 104: AU where Harry is an alpha wolf and Louis is a hybrid kitten. They were roommates. While they were arguing about something stupid, Harry wanted to bend Louis over the kitchen table and knot him right there. He slowly accepted his feelings and extreme desire for Louis, so he started to tease the hybrid until he would beg Harry to fuck him. They fall in love. Louis needs to feel comfortable with the camera so Harry fucks him until he is blushing and calm and gentle.

feeling borrowed, always blue

A fic by falsegoodnight on AO3 | @falsegoodnight on Tumblr | falsegoodnight on Twitter

67k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis’ own heartbeat picks up, eyes widening right as Dr. Zoyansky hits a button and the unsteady pattern of thumps echoes into the room. His breathing hitches, eyes watering as the rhythm seeps into his insides and reverberates in his mind. A heartbeat.

He doesn’t register the tears at first, eyes fixed to the screen and vision blurring.

The situation seems insane. Here he is, twenty-four years old, sitting in the examination chair and listening to the heartbeat of his future child, clutching the worn material of his changing gown with pale fingers, one of which is weighed down by a gaudy engagement ring.

And most noticeably - he’s entirely alone. It’s just him in the room with his doctor, experiencing one of the most groundbreaking, life-changing moments of his entire life and he’s all alone.

Or, Louis has been dreaming of his wedding since he was young - he just never expected that it was going to happen like this.

Hamartia

A fic by tomlinvelvet on AO3 | @tomlinvelvetfics on Tumblr

66k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Eight years is a long time for Louis to mend his heart back and erase every lingering, stubborn memory of his ex-lover, Harry Styles. But when news of the war being over spreads across the world like wildfire, and he stumbles upon the alpha he vowed himself to never see ever again, he realises that not even a lifetime will be enough for him to pick up the scattered, broken parts of his soul. He's far from expecting the alpha he loved to struggle the same way.

All the ointments in the world might never soothe the pain out, but it doesn't take long for both of them to come to the conclusion that, maybe, the only medicine to their heartbreaks are what caused them in the first place.

moonlit sky over gentle waters

A fic by stardustx on AO3 | stardxstlwt on Twitter

11k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

"The King of the Pirates! Captain Harry Styles! The one who conquered the seven seas!" Louis boasts, sarcasm drips from his tone, mocking him.

The bar is clean, but he still scrubs just as fervently, his brows furrows and a small pout forms on those pink lips Harry desperately wants to kiss. He looks down, dubiously, at the address in his hand.

“Every lass and lad dreams of bedding a pirate like you.” Louis huffs, gazes up at him with a despondant look that reminds him of a grumpy kitten.

Silence fills the space as Harry mulls over his words. He finally looks up at Louis, blinking slowly. “Do they really?”

"You're an idiot."

OR Harry left his hometown to sail the seven seas and returns seven years later, yearning for something — or rather, someone — that he isn't sure he can have.

Short and Sweet

A fic by 5ft9 on AO3 | cinnamouroll on Twitter

29k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis is a shy university student in a world scarce of male omegas. He's always dreamt of having an alpha despite his sheltered upbringing, fantasizing about being loved and cared for. He's immediately smitten by the mysterious alpha with curly hair, broad shoulders, and the addictive coffee scent.

under thorn and bramble

A fic by thedeathchamber on AO3 | @louehvolution on Tumblr

32k | Explicit | Louis/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 445: A historical AU where Louis is working as a servant on a farm. The family that owns the farm is exceedingly cruel to him and he is often exhausted and in pain from his work. A mysterious stranger boards at the farm and is very intrigued by Louis, but Louis doubts his interest in genuine. Any pairing fine.

Late night devil put your hands on me (and never, never, never ever let go)

A fic by summerandsunshine on AO3 | sunshine_Iou on Twitter

12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Harry is a demon that feeds off of people’s nightmares. He finds his next meal in Louis’ dreams where he changes and molds them to become scary nightmares. Soon harry learns Louis is a lucid dreamer- he can act on his own in his dreams. They interact in the real world and have sex in the dream world. when Louis catches feelings the devil, Harry promises to come back to earth once and for all.

No Easy Choice, But You’re Mine

A fic by alltheselights on AO3 | @alltheselights on Tumblr | alltheselightts on Twitter

45k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Louis’ feet pound on the pavement as he runs, and the echo reverberates through the alley behind him. He drops the gun near a trash bin as he passes, his gloved fingers ensuring that it will never be traced back to him.

He’s panting, his thighs ache, and there’s a cramp forming beneath his ribs on the right side, but all of that is nothing compared to the exhaustion clouding his brain.

I can’t do this anymore, Louis thinks.

Or: Louis is an omega hitman with one last job that goes a little sideways. Harry is the alpha bartender that looks a little too closely and cares a little too much.

Joker Is Wild

A fic by Typosmyown on AO3 | @palosquared on Tumblr

19k | Explicit | Louis/Harry, Louis/Various | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Prompt 390: A reality show AU where Louis, Harry, Liam, Zayn and Niall are selected to stay at confined in a luxury mansion for 1 month, where they are required to have explicit, graphic sex at all times, like a porn Big Brother kind of show. Every week there are several different sexual tasks and trials that they must overcome together, which all ends in orgasms for all of them. When the boys all discover Louis is strictly a bottom, and a slutty one at that, they all can’t wait to get their hands on him. Bonus if other hot celebs are there too, like Shawn Mendes, for example. Includes lots of hard gay sex, rimming, blowjobs, gang bangs, ass worshipping (Louis ass, of course) and double penetration.

The Pirate and The Piper

A fic by jacaranda_bloom on AO3 | @jacaranda-bloom on Tumblr | jacaranda_bloom on Twitter

38k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

Banished from Neverland by Captain Hook and the evil Siren Minerva, Louis is forced to live in the Other World. He makes a life for himself, resigned to the fact he’s never going to see his beloved home and Lost Boys again. Five years later he’s kidnapped and returned to Neverland, only to discover a far worse fate awaits him. But with an unlikely ally by his side, can he overcome those who seek his demise and restore freedom to his homeland?

Or the one where Harry is Hook, Louis is Pan, and nothing is what it seems.

Coeur de Pirate

A fic by louizsv on AO3 | @ashleyjohnsonfanaccount on Tumblr | piccadillyplum on Twitter

34k | Explicit | Louis/Harry, Louis/OMC, Louis/Harry/OMC | Tumblr post | Twitter post

He tilts his chin up as the Captain strides across the deck, his footfalls falling loudly against the planks. The crew watches them from afar.

Stepping into his space, the Captain wraps an arm around Louis’ waist and pulls him in. He lowers his head to breathe his words against Louis’ cheeks. “I won,” he whispers, “I’ve come to claim my prize.”

if you're feeling lonely

A fic by ifthat on AO3 | @lovehl on Tumblr | omegalouis on Twitter

12k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

The guest list is on the desk. Louis runs through it and stops a third of the way down when a familiar name catches his breath.

Harry Styles.

All he has to do is verify whether Harry Styles is the same Alpha whose scent beckoned him closer.

it's a game we play in the sheets

A fic by loubabyworship on AO3 | @strawbabyloucake on Tumblr | pillouprincess on Twitter

9k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

“Louis is… He’s a boy I’ve been talking to.” He bit his lip, grin evident. “After I watched one of his videos during a Harry Reacts a few weeks ago I messaged him and…”

His sentence was cut short by the sound of a timid little “Hi” being whispered into his ears.

Harry closed his eyes for a second, pausing to take in the online presence of the real-life fairy, before he opened them and smiled. “Hey Lou. Ready to play with me?”

Mind Over Matter (You Under Me)

A fic by youreyesonlarry on AO3 | @youreyesonlarry on Tumblr | youreyesonlarry on Twitter

73k | Explicit | Louis/Harry | Tumblr post | Twitter post

It’s dark outside when Harry finishes practice for the day.

--------

Prompt 21: Harry stopped playing hockey (after 10 years of a professional career) because of a severe injury. The dream he worked so hard for vanished in the blink of an eye. His family insisted that he had to go to physical therapy, even if it only helped his health. Cue to personal assistant Louis, the most efficient and kind PA one could hire.

View the 2020 BLFF collection here.

View the 2019 BLFF collection here.

#fics 2020

270 notes · View notes

seokmingiggles · 4 years

Text

black currant.

Pairing: Vernon Chwe x gender neutral reader

Genre: fluff, mutual crushes.

1.03k words

No warnings.

Continuing the tradition of stargazing with your best friend always feels magical—perhaps, it’s because of his gleaming presence that competes with the shining atmosphere.

Alternatively, you and Vernon realize you’re not much different than the stars above, which you watch with such admiration.

A/N: I was stumped for a while trying to figure out how to write Vernon until somehow, 1k words of pure fluff just burst from my fingers onto the keys. This drabble ended up being one of my favourites from the Teacup collection. I hope you enjoy it too!

Back to the teacup masterlist.

•• The wisps of his exhale twist and twirl in the moonlight, tracing a picture in front of his face before receding into nothingness.

"Do you want to go back inside?"

"No," you say with your gaze to the sky, "I like watching the stars."

Vernon chuckles out, "Alright," and takes a spot by your side, reclining into the cushioned blanket spread out beneath you.

You and your childhood friend have been enjoying the view of the sun setting over the city. It's been a tradition every once in a while since the two of you were kids. Now, you have the added lift from his apartment on the eighth floor in his building, allowing you to feel that much closer to the spiralling galaxies above. Vernon's balcony is the perfect size to arrange a comfy assortment of blankets for a cozy summer night. One take-out dinner later, you find yourself still outside. The temperature is comfortable enough, even with the lack of sunlight. Vernon had gone inside to dispose of the styrofoam packaging but has returned, now sitting by your side.

The sky is still slightly illuminated; the sun has set only about fifteen minutes ago, allowing the horizon to remain painted in a pretty coral and dark tangerine, transitioning into a deeper blue from way above. Yet, the moon is already visible from afar—a soft crescent sitting atop the distant mountains.

Vernon remains silent, not sure if speaking will distract you from whatever it is you're observing above.

Yet, you're the one to first speak through the silence: "Do you ever wonder what it would be like to live amongst the stars?"

Your gaze remains to the heavens, but Vernon's eyes gloss over your face.

"What would that be like?" you continue, voice hushed to match the peacefulness of outside. "I'm sure the view up there would be breathtaking."

A small smile forms on the boy's features while he observes your wonder-filled expression. "I'm sure it would be—beautiful, probably."

"Yeah," you agree in a whisper.

You can see the blinking light of an airplane soaring above, questioning where it's going, where it's been. Or, perhaps, it's not a plane but a satellite doing its programmed route over the Earth. Either way, your eyes follow the twinkling movement as it passes by.

"Do you believe we come from the stars?"

Vernon has now situated himself on his back to look upwards where your eyes are so intensely trained.

"What do you mean?" the boy asks; his gaze bounces between all of the flickering stars slowly emerging in the gradually-darkening sky.

"The elements—the components that make up a star—they're found within our bodies, too."

"No way," Vernon whispers, a new perspective blooming in his mind about the little fiery orbs in the far distance. Well, they wouldn't look little up close, the boy considers, but they do look small in the wide expanse of the sky.

He concludes that he mustn't be much different from the stars above—regarding matter, at least. But more importantly, Vernon settles that you are practically a galaxy; celestial is a word he'd pick to describe you in this very moment.

"Yeah," you finally pull your gaze from above to look at the boy next to you, although now, he's fixated on examining the atmosphere. You add, "It's not just us, but all life on Earth; all organic material. It's all got the same chemistry as stars."

"That's incredible."

"Right?"

Vernon hums, basking in the view of the sky. "So," he muses, "earlier, when you asked about what it would be like to live among the stars," he pauses, contemplating his words, "aren't we already doing that?"

When your friend turns his head to the side to meet your eyes, you swear you can see all of the constellations in his irises at that moment.

He really is made of stars, you think. Though instead, you say, "Yes," with a growing smile. "That makes me happy to think about."

The sky is now a dusty charcoal: the colour of black currant tea leaves. The sun has disappeared entirely now; the deeper blue hue from earlier has since taken over, washing everything above the horizon in its gradient. The moon seems to shine brighter than before.

The evening breeze begins to blow between your and Vernon's bodies; goosebumps tingle across your bare arms and raise the little hairs on the back of your neck, tingling your spine in the process.

"Are you cold?" the boy next to you asks.

"A little bit," you respond truthfully, "but I'm still not ready to head back inside yet."

"I can go and grab another blanket?"

"No, it's okay," you swallow the lump forming in your throat. "Maybe, instead, I could..."

You don't finish your sentence and instead, shuffle slightly closer to Vernon.

The boy is stunned for a moment at your sudden proximity but relaxes his body when he feels your radiating warmness.

Your arms are now brushing against each other with fingertips touching ever-so-slightly.

The silent night atmosphere is all that fills your reddening ears when you feel Vernon slowly take hold of your hand and clasp his fingers around yours.

His hand feels soft. It's the slightest bit clammy, but not excessively. And even if it was, you're sure your attention would be stuck on the thrumming of your heartbeat in your ears, as it is now.

"Is this okay?" the boy asks, squeezing your hand slightly tighter at his question.

"Y-yeah," the way your voice stutters embarrasses you. You clear your throat and squeeze his hand back, "It's okay."

The two of you continue to stare up at the sky and its expanse of bright stars. Some unspoken emotion is thick in the air, fluttering across the balcony; it's an unsaid agreement of sorts. Perhaps it's a consensus where something is lying beneath the surface; perhaps it's reciprocated feelings that are too scared to bubble up—to pop and fizzle and explode like a firework bursting with a million colours and then some.

Or perhaps, it's that the two of you, right now, are stars—similar to the ones which you find yourselves gazing at so fondly.

••

148 notes · View notes

secondhand-trash · 3 years

Text

Staycation (n. informal)

— a holiday spent in one’s home country rather than aboard, or one spent at home and involving day trips to local attractions.

Hi, I’m Cadence, and I’m a staycation enthusiast.

I love staying in hotels and there has not been a moment since last summer when I’m not moaning about how much I miss travelling (I miss travelling). As a result, I have fostered a newfound love for staycations where you get to stay somewhere nice and get that feeling of escaping from the burdens of everyday life even without leaving the country.

Since it’s summer and it is the season for vacations, there is no better theme to have for a summer event than to take everyone on a nice little staycation getaway✨

Accepting asks from 1/6 10:00 hkt to 4/6 23:59 hkt

All posts for this event will be tagged with #secondhand hotels & resorts

Let me show you around...✨

Check-in

— send in details of your dream vacation + a colour scheme + a character and get a 9-grid mood board themed around a perfect stay at one of our hotels and resorts tailored to your tastes!

— e.g. somewhere sunny where I can lounge around the warm sand all day and relax under the sun, it would be a dream if we’re staying in a villa where no one can interrupt us and it feels like we’re in our own world + gold + Hinata

Concierge

— you came alone? That’s alright, tell me one thing you totally would have done in the past year if it wasn’t for the whole covid situation + m/f preferences and you might just meet someone lovely during your stay here;)

— aka you tell me things and I’ll match you up with someone by working the magics of being the manager of this hotel to put you two at the right spot at the right time

— e.g. I had plans to go on a road trip with my friends across cities but it didn’t happen🥲 + no specific preferences

Luggage area

— send in a description of what type of packer you are when you go on overnight trips + a character and I’ll tell you three absolutely unnecessary thing they brought with them on the staycation

— e.g. I’m moderate with my luggage. I don’t really feel the need to bring everything I use on a daily basis but I have certain things that I insist on bringing even though not carrying them with me won’t be too big of an issue either. I never bring more than one bag or suitcase with me. + Bokuto

Room service

— tell me your go-to takeout order (whether it’s your favourite food or just the thing you can’t go wrong with when you don’t know what to eat) + a character and we’ll provide you with a romantic dining experience

— aka tell me things and I’ll give you an aesthetic that has to do with food✨with descriptions and song included

— e.g. (this is something I actually order all the time btw lmao) curry rice with fried pork cutlet with a side of gyoza + Kita

Bar & lounge (nsfw)(CLOSED)

— below are a list of potential places for you to... do things people love to do😌send a number + a character to get an elaboration on what you are doing there, you know the drill

on the bed (yes you paid money for that sweet hotel bed don't you dare say it's too boring)

against the room window

against the wall

in the hot tub

on the balcony

in the elevator

on the rooftop

on a sun bed at the side of the pool

in the pool

on the beach

in the gym

in the shower

on top of the bathroom counter

against the door that connects to the room next door (is it locked? Is it not? Is there someone on the other side? Idk you tell me😌)

on the writing desk at the corner of the room

under a mirrored ceiling

(any other you could think of, I’m sure some of you are more creative than I am;))

#secondhand hotels & resorts #this starts in 24 hours😌✨#very excited this is my dupe for paying real money for an actual staycation #jujutsu kaisen x reader #bnha x reader #haikyuu x reader

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pennyserenade · 3 years

Text

TINY DANCER

tags: javier peña x female oc, javier peña, rockstar!au, fluff rating: t ( teen ) (for now) warnings: language, alcohol word count: 1.6k+ summary: a band of young men from laredo, texas are on the verge of rock’n’roll stardom and anita rodríguez is the woman who follows them into it. a story of rock’n’roll and all the fluff that follows notes: this is very self indulgent and heavily inspired by the movie almost famous, as well as whatever fleetwood mac had going on, and the book daisy jones & the six. as you can tell, this is a genre of fiction i favor heavily, and i’m more than happy to make this everyone’s problem. thank you for baring with me

Summer time has never tasted so sweet on the tongues of these impassioned young men from Laredo, Texas, she bets. Perspiration covers their foreheads as they stand under the much too bright colored lights, and the crowd before them cheers them on with an eagerness that belongs only to those who really loved music. And they respond like men who really love music—all smiles and grins and heavy panting from giving their young bodies away to it. One might even say their souls.

Even from behind the curtain, she can feel the wave of electricity that rolls off of them. It is a beautiful thing to hear after suffering under the heavy blanket of Texas heat for her own performance.

They had liked her alright, responded about as warmly as they could for an opening act they hadn’t really known, but they turn these young men into Gods. She feels it tight in her stomach, that everlasting and endless excitement reserved for falling in love, not with people, but with moments. Even if it’s all for not, this little musical and spiritual journey she has partaken on, she will at least have been there for the moment these men had exhaled themselves into true and complete stardom.

Not bad for a band called El Fuego, she thinks.

“My God they’re something, aren’t they, Anita?”

Her sister holds aside the curtain to make room for herself. “The one in the really tight jeans was talking to me during your performance. He’s beautiful, I swear it. Just godly.”

Anita smiles. “You can’t fall in love with rockstars, baby sister, it’s unethical and impractical. Have your years with me taught you nothing?”

“Yeah, but those rockstars were a dime of dozen and tight jeans looks like sex out there,” she whines. Anita scans over the men, trying to decipher whom she might mean. That’s when she catches Tight Jeans’ eyes. She gives him a grin and without missing a beat, he gives her a charming wink. A wink reserved for a man on top of the world.

“What’s his name?” Anita asks.

“Javier Peña,” she responds. “He’s just gorgeous isn’t he? They all are.”

All Anita can do is grin as she continues to watch the rest of their performance.

****

This isn’t her first rodeo. This isn’t even her second or third or fourth. In fact, she’s lost track of the times she’s been led back to hotel rooms with a slew of people she doesn’t know, swept dangerously up in the shared euphoria that is the after show comedown.

In her hand she holds her second drink of the night. It’s a concoction she’d mixed for herself, made up of too much juice and too much alcohol, but she deserves it, she reckons. She’s opened for a damn good band and she’s a pretty damn good singer most of the time, and that Javier guy has been looking at her all night, despite the group of women that surround him. He has a good way of being present with them and present with her, too, genuine grins and attention for all to spare. Like the charming and humble lead guitarist he is, he strums idly at an acoustic guitar while he speaks with the women.

She’s been standing in the same place for too long, drinking the same second drink, listening to the beginning of songs he starts before he falters off into the next one. Even over the light hum of chatter and the radio nearby, she can focus on him. She watches his fingers as they strum—watches the way he doesn’t need to look down at them to keep them steady and trained. He’s a professional musician, through and through, even if he may just be some guy from Laredo to most individuals in the world. His manager had been so brave to wager that they were going to hit nationwide success by next week when one of their songs got radio air. She asked if she could keep opening for them, when they got big. All he did was grin. She likes to think it’s a yes.

“Hello.”

Coming back to earth, Anita finds Tight Pants in front of her. Not starling close, but enough to elicit something ghastly in her.

He smells of leather and good cigarettes, and her baby sister was right, he does look like sex. He’s all lean muscle, and though the perspiration has gone from his forehead, she bets if he were to lean in close and press his lips to hers, she might be tempted to taste the residue of it in what would become haste and passionate kissing.

“Hello,” she responds.

“I’m Javi, from Laredo.”

He extends his rather large hand for her to take, and she does. She wonders if this is the approach he uses with a lot of women. He’s good looking enough to be dangerous, but then again, she’s smart enough to understand where the line between fun and serious ends and begins with these men. She’s a rockstar too, privy to sex and drugs just like the lot of them, even if she is just a one man band.

She puts her hand in his and he gives her a firm shake. “Anita,” she says, then inspired by the liquid courage in her, she adds, “From somewhere warm, but hopefully headed some place better.”

He gives her a laugh and she finds that unfortunately, it’s the sort that makes one’s own lips tug upwards.

“You sounded good tonight. Did you write that song?”

“Yeah,” she nods. “You sounded good too. I mean, you probably know that already, but.” She smiles. “Who writes for you?”

“Graham.”

“Graham’s the...”

“Lead singer. Dirty blonde over there talking to your—“ He looks at her. “Sister?”

She nods. “Yeah. She said she had talked to you earlier.”

“Yeah. We talked about your someplace warm. California, is it?”

“Cali indeed.”

“I’ve never been.”

“Well, Javi, I’m sure you’re about to.”

His dimple appears for her. He looks at her like she wishes he wouldn’t, because it makes her badly want to stick to his side for the rest of the night. And on his lips.

Even more unfortunate for her, he rummages in his pockets and pulls out a packet of those good cigarettes that make up his aroma. He opens it and takes one out for himself, sticking it between his lips, before offering her one.

“You smoke?”

She takes one. “Sometimes,” she nods. “Are we allowed to, in here?”

Javi shrugs his shoulders as he lights his. “Dunno,” he responds. She leans forward so he can light hers too. “Suppose we should go sit on the balcony on the off chance that this is the one hotel in America that doesn’t allow it?”

****

“You know Me and Bobby McGee, Laredo?” she nods down to his guitar.

The air outside is just cool enough to be comfortable in, so, despite that their cigarettes have long been stamped out and the party inside awaits them, they stay on the patio, rooted to the furniture. He hasn’t made any moves on her, a fact which takes her by surprise, and so they’ve lulled into a comfortable ebb and flow of natural conversation.

He tweaks his fingers on the neck of the guitar before he begins to strum the strings of it . His hair, overgrown in a way that suits a man of his occupation, cascades over his forehead as his brow becomes pinched from focus. In an instant, from his fingers comes the tune of her desire. He looks up at her, grinning, once he gets into the flow of it.

“¿Hablas español?” he asks, over his guitar.

“Un poquito, but not much,” she tells him. “Why?”

“No reason,” he dismisses, “Can you sing Me and Bobby McGee?”

“Sí.”

He laughs. “Well, put on a show then.”

***

She sobers up halfway between the sun tucking itself into the sky and the sun peeking back out from the horizon, but she can’t remember when. They’d played a lot of songs and her throat feels hoarse, but she can’t recall any one song that had felt particularly clear. It all sort of blended together up until this moment.

Javi lays, back rested against the chair, looking tired. His guitar now rests beside him, quiet, and he stares out at the city below them.

There’s a soft hum of normal people doing normal things below them; the horn of an eager taxi driver, the breaks of a bus, the chatter of patrons going in and out of the hotel.

They sit in the comfort of this city’s morning routine while she smokes his last good cigarette. “I was never much for staying up all night,” she tells him, passing it over to him.

He takes it between his lips and nods. “I was never much for sleeping all night.”

“And why’s that?”

He shrugs, exhaling the smoke. “Don’t know. Sometimes the past haunts me, sometimes it’s just too fuckin’ hot, sometimes it’s the company.”

“Mm,” she hums. “I must admit, I didn't peg you as the get-to-know-me-in-the-early-morning type. Thought you’d be content just charming me with your guitar for the rest of eternity.”

“Well,” he passes the cigarette back to her, pushing his digits against her own in the process. “I’m not, really, but we’ve talked about our favorite songs all night and you’re our opener for the rest of this tour, so why not?”

She takes a drag off the cigarette. “I’m not the opener for the rest of the tour.”

“No?” he asks.

“No,” she shakes her head. “This was a favor, I think. A very kind one.”

He looks out in front of him, falling into silence. Thinking. Then he says, “I think I’m in the position to call in some favors right now if you’d liked to be. The opener, I mean.”

She lets the smoke out from the side of her mouth, which has risen up into a wide grin. “Javier from Laredo, I think I could kiss you right now.”

He takes the cigarette back from her fingers, offering her his own grin. “I think I’d like that,” Javi says, tone soft. Genuine.

She swings her legs over the side of her lawn chair, and holds herself up just far enough to press a chaste kiss to his cheek. He turns though, not entirely on purpose, she thinks, and their noses brush against one another. She rises from her seat when he leans down and fills the space between them, resting against his own chair as his lips move against her own.

No tongue, though. He pulls back after a few seconds, brown eyes full of warmth. She’s surprised by the amount of control he has over himself. Surprised that he wants to use it, too.

“I better go check on my sister,” she breathes out, resting her hand over his chest.

“Okay,” he nods. “I’ll see you in the next city, Anita.”

“Yeah,” she smiles.

“Look for me?” he asks.

“Yeah,” she promises.

She likes this man and his tight jeans, she’s decided. Likes him a lot.

EVERYTHING : @astroboots , @frannyzooey , @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @melaniermblt , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @honestly-shite , @over300books , @elegantduckturtle, @pbeatriz , @pretty-brown-eyess , @brcwneyes , @chronic-nosebleed

JAVI : @wyn-n-tonic , @rosiefridayrogersunday , @disgruntledspacedad , @melaniermblt , @walt-breslin , @theorganasolo , @amneris21 , @hb8301 , @penajavier , @darnitdraco , @over300books , @dobbyjen , @paperbag33 , @rebel-fanfare , @p3dr0pasca1lov3r247

TINY DANCER : @itssmashedavo (just because i thought this might interest you)

#javier peña x female oc #javier pena x female oc #narocs fic #narcos #pedro pascal fanfic #pedro pascal #jose pedro balmaceda pascal fanfic #jose pedro balmaceda pascal #javier peña #javier pena

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idkthisisjustforfanfic · 4 years

Photo

CALL ME CAT, chapter sixteen

Summer 2018

The only thing worse than being hungover was having to face all of them the next morning. I didn’t remember much between quitting and climbing onto the bus, Jules draped a blanket over me and suddenly the sun was rising.

Now I sat in a hotel room somewhere, squinting at the beams of light through the window and reaching out for a cup of coffee that Leah handed over.

“Thanks,” I said, my voice quiet.

She was silent for a moment, watched me take a sip before she spoke. “Do you really want out?”

I thought about it for a second. Somehow, the entire time the band gained traction and our careers got bigger and better, my life seemed to spiral out of control and I became more of a mess than I thought humanly possible. So I nodded.

The door pushed open, Ian was in the same clothes from the night before, bags under his eyes let me know that I’d created a hellish task for him. Ask about paperwork, call the right people, figure out what the hell was going on.

“Hi,” he said, hands in his pockets, a quick sigh before he made eye contact. “How do you feel?”

I let out a sarcastic laugh, unsure if he was asking to be nice or to rub it in my face that I had been a drunk mess for the umpteenth time.

“Like shit, Ian.”

“Right,” he nodded. “Well, I need to know if you’re actually leaving or if that was just you being drunk and upset. Either way we need to have a whole meeting this morning about what went on and what we do moving forward. Last night was not okay.”

I shifted uncomfortably in my seat, unprepared for his directness. “I meant it,” I told him.

A pause, almost like he didn’t really think it would happen. “Uh, okay,” he looked around the room and pulled out his phone. “I have to call people then. Can I ask you a question, first?”

Hands around the coffee cup, I said: “Shoot.”

“Is this about Harry?”

“No,” I shook my head. “It’s about me.”

It was partially about Harry. I couldn’t do it anymore, I couldn’t stand the constant tug of war or the impossible task of trying to understand him. I figured it was best to not try at all.

The door pushed open again, Niall was on the other side, his lips parted when he saw me. “Already signing shit?”

“Niall,” Ian sighed, hoping to not let things get as rowdy as they did the night before. His voice was tired and the way he said Niall’s name told me that a confrontation was the last thing he needed right now.

“Already dissolving everything we worked for?”

“What’s happening?” Miles popped up behind him, then Harry and Jules.

More nervous squirming on my end. Ian hadn’t mentioned the meeting would be now.

“Nothing is happening, we’re talking,” Ian said when he turned to face them. “And since you’re all here, I guess you can come in.”

They filed in, quiet and angry and unsure what was happening. I tried to focus my gaze on the lid of my latte. Steam had gathered underneath, tiny bubbles of heat were trapped inside--like I was trapped in this room. They sat on a sofa and Jules took to the floor, eyes avoiding mine when I finally had the courage to look up.

“Do you want to tell them?” Ian turned to me.

I shook my head, sipped my coffee again and wished I could sink into the chair. Could they blame me? Did any of them think that this was good for any of us?

“Cat is looking to leave the band,” Ian nodded. “I have to call people and figure out what type of paperwork needs to happen. I’ll have things to sign for all of you--I’m going to have to talk to the label’s lawyer first, though.”

“So that’s just it?” Niall asked again, his eyes pointed at me with a furious stare. “You’re a liar and a quitter?”

“Niall I don’t think you really understand,” I told him, anger rising in my voice. “But if you’d like to make a lot of assumptions, by all means, go ahead.”

“S’my only choice, right? Since you’ve been lying.”

“You guys need to figure out what you’re doing from here. Are you interested in staying in the band?” Ian tried to break up the tension, held a hand in my direction to quiet me.

“Without Cat?” Miles asked, a wrinkle in his forehead when he made eye contact with me. “With no lead singer?”

“Just the four of us?” Jules pulled her legs up to her chest, her voice was quiet and high pitched.

“Yeah, I mean, the four of you can continue on.”

“I don’t know,” Niall let out a breath. “I’m too pissed off to figure out what the fuck we should do.”

“Right,” Ian nodded. “Think about it. But we need to cancel the show tonight, and tomorrow, really. Before we figure out what the next step is.”

Niall looked up at me and shook his head, a sarcastic laugh before he said: “Great, cancel them.”

The swampy landscape of Florida passed by my window, the white lines on the edge of the street blurred as we neared my parents’ house. Heart in my throat when I knocked on the door, the only thing more embarrassing than hiding out in Florida while headlines blew over was realizing I didn’t have a key to my childhood home.

Marta smiled when she tugged the door open, wrapped her arms around me and didn’t say anything, she didn’t need to.

But my mother did. She appeared around the corner, glasses perched on her nose and expecting eyes that grazed over my figure. “You look tired.”

I held back an unsurprised laugh. “I am,” I admitted. “It’s been a busy few days.”

“Quitting your band and coming home doesn’t sound busy.”

“Well, it was a lot of paperwork.”

Marta tried to ease the tension. “Do you want a snack? A drink?”

“I’m fine,” I told her, a reassuring nod before I looked back at my mom. “Thanks for letting me come home.”

“Well…” she made a disapproving sound with her tongue, a shrug of her shoulders as if she always knew the band was destined for failure. “What happened?”

I tilted my head and looked at her for a second. She couldn’t really care--her question was more likely a nosy way to put the puzzle pieces together. I wasn’t stupid enough to think her book club wasn’t asking questions.

“I think I have a drinking problem.”

Her eyes went wide for a second, but she regained her composure in a quick beat. I kept talking before she could say anything.

“And I think you do too, to be honest, but, that’s really none of my business.” I shrugged my shoulders and picked up my suitcase, turned on my feet to head for the stairs.

“Catherine,” her voice was frantic. “Did you just say you think I have a drinking problem?”

“Yep,” I said over my shoulder. She was now a few steps behind me, heels clicking on the marble floors.

“That’s absurd, you’re absolutely out of your mind.” She stopped at the bottom of the stairs, lips parted when I turned around to cut her off.

“Maybe I am, mom. Maybe I’m completely fucking neurotic at this point because of you.”

“Me? What are you talking about? How could I possibly have anything to do with your--band mess?”

“Because while you were too busy pouring glass after glass of Chardonnay, I was upstairs having panic attacks and nightmares and developing PTSD. But you didn’t give a fuck.”

She let out a short noise, maybe one of shock or even frustration. “I was grieving, Catherine.”

“Me too, but I guess this house wasn’t big enough for the both of us.”

She didn’t reply, her eyes blinked a few times in a robotic way before I lugged my suitcase up the stairs and slammed my bedroom door shut.

My phone was buzzing every few minutes--messages, DMs, people contacting me in every way to figure out what went wrong and where I was.

But none of my friends. Niall and Jules had no clue where I was. I boarded a plane the night I signed paperwork, only 23 hours after I told them I was out. Landed first in New York to meet with my lawyer, then one with label people to finalize an arrangement. They were free to go on without me if they chose.

Went back to my apartment, poured out the bottles of Tequila and Champagne that had been a mainstay. Threw some clothes in a suitcase and took a car to JFK. Now, here I was, standing in my childhood bedroom with open balcony doors that let in a nice breeze.

Whether or not I felt good about how it came out, the fact that everyone knew was a relief. I didn’t have to shrink away from pictures of Cameron in the bathroom or ignore the memories that still floated to my mind every once in a while. It still hurt, but now that the hurt was out in the open, it could finally breathe.

When I sat on the balcony that night and looked out to the Lagoon, a buzzing from my phone beside me lasted longer than I expected. One, then two, then three. A phone call.

From Lila.

I stared at the screen for a minute, momentarily convincing myself that it was a butt dial, a mistake. Maybe she hadn’t heard what happened.

But then I answered and I didn’t expect her to be so nice.

“Cat! Hi! I was just calling to make sure you’re okay.”

“I’m alright,” I said it with a nod, unsure if the words were true or just my automatic answer. “I’m in Florida--at my parents.”

“I figured,” she sighed. “I would need a minute away too.”

“Lila--you’re not mad at me?”

“Mad at you? Why would I be mad at you?”

“Well, I quit the band and I was lying to them for a while and--”

“I’m not mad at you.”

“Okay,” I nodded again. “Are you okay?”

She let out a laugh, not a sarcastic or angry one, but one that let me know the question was ironic. “Well, yeah. But, it’s been kind of wild back here. I just--uh--wanted to let you know that me and Harry broke up.”

“What?” I asked this with more force than I intended. “Wait--when?”

“Yesterday--he was a mess after you left and everything was really stressful, and--”

“He was a mess after I left?”

“Well, he was angry. I mean he’s pretty mad at you and he feels betrayed and--”

“Okay,” I held up a hand even though she couldn’t see me. I didn’t need the details.

“Well you asked.”

“I know--I just, I thought things were going well with you two.”

She let out a sigh. “Yeah, they were. I mean, we were fine, but, I think he’s always going to like you.”

I felt my own eyes go wide, head tilted to the side in the glow of the Palm Beach moon. “Me?”

I didn’t know the right response. Act surprised? Act disgusted? The news was already putting my system into overdrive, the flutter in my heart at her most recent confession made me dizzy.

“Yes, you, Cat--don’t act like it’s such a shock,” she laughed at this like it was silly. “He told me that it wasn’t just once.”

I blew air out between my lips, trying to slow my pulse. “It wasn’t when you were together--he didn’t cheat on you, I promise.”

“I know,” she said. “I told him to call me if he ever gets over you,” she laughed, her voice was sweet and sincere through the phone. “So maybe I’ll hear from him one day, but probably not.”

“Lila,” I breathed out her name and for once, I was at a loss for words. Did I apologize? Did I make some excuse about the tension--whether or not she seemed mad?

“It’s alright, Cat,” she laughed. “Maybe the point of Harry being in my life was so we would find each other. Maybe we’re friend soulmates,” I could hear her smile through the phone, likely from the knowledge that her words would pull an eye roll from me.

But instead I felt my lips turn upward--just a little--when a boat motored by and the leaves of the palm trees danced in the wind.

Out of all of them, Lila was the one to reach out first. Something about it felt ironic and annoying and somehow still completely serendipitous.

And for weeks there were people staked outside the front gate. July slowly bled into August and I prayed that the media coverage would fade with summer. My mom seemed to bask in the glow of flashing cameras and my dad had slowly resigned to the fact that his drives to and from the office were now bookended by questions about what I was doing and if the band was breaking up.

But none of use knew the answer until three weeks in, when my phone rang one night and Niall’s voice was short on the other end.

“D’ya have a minute?”

“Yeah,” I nodded quickly, sat down on my bed and folded my legs beneath me. I didn’t mean to sound eager, but I’d been hoping for an update on their decision: move forward or disband. I’d yet to hear from him at all and was hoping he’d cooled off since I’d last seen him. “What’s up?”

“Well, we, uh--we’ve been meetin’. We talked to Ian, talked to Ron and some label people. We’re not sure we’re going to stay together.”

“You’re not sure?” I repeated his words for clarity. The decision didn’t sound like something that could be left in the gray area.

“We’re not. We’re not going forward.”

Silence for a second. “Oh,” I said. “Are you--how do you feel about that?”

“Weird, honestly. Mad, upset, confused.”

“Yeah.”

“I just don’t get it, Cat--I don’t get how things were going so well and yet everything between us got worse and worse.”

“It’s my fault,” I said the words quietly, more calmness laced between them with some salty air and sunshine now a part of my daily routine. “I should have been more honest with you.”

Another pause, and for a second I wasn’t sure if he’d hung up, angry and let down my by half-assed apology.

“I just wish you hadn’t let Harry get under your skin so much.”

It was a blow I hadn’t expected, I pulled at a thread on my duvet. “It wasn’t just about Harry, Niall,” I tried to not sound angry, looked up at my reflection in the mirror above my dresser. My wet hair was up in a towel, fresh out of the shower and fresh out of patience to talk about Harry.

“Why didn’t you tell me about your brother?”

I stared at the wall, unsure of how to answer his question. On the other side of the sheetrock was the bathroom I’d spent so many nights in. Feet on the cool tile, silently sobbing about the nightmares or wishing it was me and not him.

If he wanted the truth, I would give it to him.

“It was my first chance to not be the girl with the dead brother,” I said harshly. “My parents are shitty people, Niall--and when my brother died,” I paused. The thought had been circling in my brain for so long, but putting it into words for the first time made it hurt more. “To them I just became a reminder of him. And my friends from high school and the people in town--I was just one of two, part of a whole.”

“But you told Jules and not me?”

I grew more impatient. “I was drunk, Niall, and I opened my mouth because Harry was being an asshole.”

“Harry? I thought she found out years ago.”

“Yeah--right after I met Harry.”

“Freshman year?”

I rolled my eyes at all of his questions. “Yes--he was being a dick because he was calling me Catherine when we first met and I hate that name because my mother and my brother are literally the only two people on the planet who call me that.”

Another pause. “Oh,” he said, almost like a puzzle piece had fallen into place. “But you didn’t tell him why you didn’t like that name because you didn’t want to bring up your brother.”

It wasn’t a question, he said the words with conviction, informing himself of the rock and hard place I had been stuck between.

“Telling people within the first two weeks of meeting them that you have a dead twin brother is kind of a vibe killer.”

He let out an awkward laugh, my shoulders felt less tense and I took a leap of faith. “I guess I have PTSD from his death, I mean, I was there. I’ve been googling the symptoms and reading stuff online. I think that’s why I drank so much. Harry constantly calling me that name made all of the memories worse and feel so much closer.”

Quiet again, then he sighed. “I just wish you’d been honest with me.”

I blinked a few times, disappointed that he’d brought it back to the dishonesty and the perceived betrayal when I’d just blurted it all out. I wasn’t left with much in Florida--plenty of time and space to think about the things that had gone wrong and the way I’d reacted. After a few weeks of piecing it together and accepting that maybe there was something wrong with me, maybe I did have a problem--Niall’s lack of response or acknowledgement felt like salt in the wound.

“I know.”

“I just think I need some space, Cat.”

My heart sunk--not that I didn’t know leaving the band would result in this. I was ready for the awkward phone calls and the fumbling to figure out what we were now: friends? Bandmates? Former roommates?

I just hadn’t considered that we’d be nothing, potentially, if he was too hurt.

But after talking to him that night, I wasn’t shocked when Jules wouldn’t answer my calls. At first she’d text back and say she was busy, running an errand or reading Tarot. But after a few weeks of no contact outside of my parents and Marta, reading news articles in my bedroom about the break up and the next steps and the rumors of why it all happened, I called Leah.

“I need to move out,” I told her. “I need to be somewhere other than Florida and other than New York.”

“Okay,” she said, I could hear typing on the other end. “Los Angeles sounds like an option, then.”

“Do you think that’s weird, though? For me to suddenly buy a house in LA?”

“I mean--Ian called me the other day. Said a lot of writing requests have still been coming in since people don’t really know why you left. Los Angeles would be a good place to do that.”

“I’ll write,” I nodded, something in my gut pulled me towards it. “Who’s been asking?”

“A bunch of people, apparently. Ian said there have been more requests since the split. I guess people figure you’re still doing that--I don’t know.”

I paused for a second, thought about what would happen if word got out to Niall or Jules that I was writing for other people. Would they be angry? Would they care?

It felt unfair for me to have to factor them into a decision when they wouldn’t answer my calls. For so long they’d been the people I could count on, no matter how much I fucked up or how bad things got.

But now I didn’t have Niall, I didn’t have Jules, I didn’t have Eddie or Miles. I didn’t have Ian and I didn’t have Harry. I didn’t have a record label and I didn’t have shows to put on. I’d lost almost everything.

And after all of the uncertainty in my life, the only constant was music. I figured I deserved to keep that.

Summer 2019

The knocking sent my heart to my throat, one that I’d been waiting for all morning. The California sun was warm through the windows, and when I opened the door, Jules’s hair was blonder than I remembered and Niall’s was darker.

“Hi,” Jules said, her lips curved up in a small smile. Niall nodded in greeting, I stepped aside, hoping that I didn’t look or sound as stupid as I felt.

“Come in--I can make tea, or coffee or something.”

They stepped inside, took a look around the foyer. Jules hit Niall in the stomach when he didn’t reply, he grunted in response. “Yeah, tea--that’d be lovely.”

I rolled my eyes at his nervousness, let my mouth quirk into a smirk. “We don’t have to act like strangers, you know.”

They both nodded, awkward smiles in return when we stood, frozen in place.

“Does it really feel that way?”

Jules relented first after a tiny giggle. “No--we’re not strangers. We just--it’s been a while.”

Nine months, to be exact. Texts and phone calls and even emails in between, fall turned into winter and by the time Christmas came, I lived on a tree lined street with other celebrities who could afford this level of privacy.

I led them into the kitchen and sighed, put the teapot on the stove. “Well, I kind of had some shit to get together.”

When I turned around and let my hands rest on the counter, Niall took a breath before he spoke. “Glad we’re here, you know, just--I don’t know. We haven’t really talked about it.”

We hadn’t. First we just sent funny videos, memes back and forth and eventually I got added to a group message with both of them in it. Eddie and I would facetime every once in a while, Miles and I would check in every few weeks and I’d send him some songs I was working on.

I nodded, I hadn’t talked much about it with anyone--except for Lila. She visited for the New Year and brought me sparkling cider, it’s without the alcohol, but with all of the bubbles and fun.

“You were too angry to hear me out,” I shrugged my shoulders. True, but also probably not what he wanted to hear.

“Can you blame me, Cat? We worked so hard for that band and that success and it felt like you were throwing it away.”

Jules tensed at his volume, looked at me for a reply.

I nodded, remembered what Lila had advised. Hear them out, validate that they were hurt.

“I know--I didn’t mean to make you feel that way.”

This apparently caught Niall off guard--maybe he’d expected me to fight him on it, defend myself or my actions and make it seem like it was his fault.

But it wasn’t. The drinking was my fault. The running from my emotions was my fault. None of them made me behave the way I did.

“I get that you had stuff to figure out with your family, but why didn’t you want to try to work it out with us?”

I sighed, Jules pulled out a stool and sat, her eyes on me as she waited for an answer. I knew the question was coming. I knew they’d want to know and I knew that they probably still felt confused and unsure about what had transpired almost a year ago. I had finally given Niall more information about Cameron, but I’d left out the pieces back then that I hadn’t yet found.

The band had been pulling me down, whether or not I wanted to admit it. Staying in the band meant sacrificing my sanity, and when the moment came to choose one or the other, I had to choose myself.

Fonder couldn’t exist if I wanted to be okay--and if I wanted to be okay then Fonder had to come to an end. I couldn’t have my cake and eat it too.

I shook my head, I didn’t know where to start. “I don’t think I would have been able to do it with all of you guys right there.”

“All of us?” Jules offered a knowing smirk.

I bit at my lip and then admitted: “Harry.”

Jules nodded, Niall dropped my gaze.

Back in the spring Jules finally called me, the flowers had started to bloom and news of my signing with a new publishing company had started to break. I told her I was sorry for how it all played out and she told me that Miles was doing session stuff at New Trick. Eddie was working with other artists and she hadn’t heard from Harry.

So now, May in my Los Angeles kitchen, almost a year after I left them on the road and almost a year since I’d seen or heard from Harry, his name echoed against the granite counter top when Niall met my gaze again.

“He’s been asking about ya.”

I counted to three, play it cool. “You’ve talked to him?”

He kept my gaze, sat beside Jules and I wondered if this was a test. They’d planted the seed about visiting me in February, they opted to stay at a hotel and Niall told us he’d been in the studio working on a solo project. I think he expected me to be mad, but I was just proud.

“He might lay some bass tracks for the stuff I’ve been doing.”

I nodded. “I didn’t know if he was still playing or what he was up to.”

“Did some stuff with Vince, actually, did some session stuff with them for a while, continues to be a heartthrob, the usual.” He cracked a smile at that, Jules rolled her eyes when the tea kettle whistled.

“Actually, Cat, there was something we wanted to talk to you about.”

I poured the water into three cups, kept my back to them when I replied casually: “what’s up?”

I had no clue what it was. No idea what they wanted to discuss and no idea if they were using this visit as an opportunity to corner me.

“My birthday’s soon and I wanted to have a party in New York. We wanted you to come.”

It felt too soon for a reunion. Didn’t this type of thing come years later? When one of us was married or when someone had a baby? I turned around and pushed the cups towards them, offered a few options for tea before I replied. “With, like, everyone?”

Niall pulled a bag out of it’s sleeve and dunked it into the steaming water. “With Harry, is what she’s asking.”

“I know what she’s asking,” Jules retorted before she turned back to me. “And yes--he’ll be there.”

“Is this some kind of intervention?” I joked. “Cause I’ve already been sober for almost a year.”

“No,” Jules shook her head. “But we’re extremely proud of your sobriety. I know things got fucked up, but I want us all to be okay, even if Fonder is over.” She looked over to Niall, waiting for him to add on.

“S’also our first party we’re hosting together,” he leaned over to pat her on the knee, his tone casual when he dropped a metaphorical bomb. “As a couple.”

I had to choke down the tea that I’d just sipped, I set the cup down and blinked a few times. “You guys are dating?!”

“We spent a lot of time together when the band split up,” Jules said, a wriggle of her eyebrows in my direction. “Turns out I’m not that annoying after all.”

Niall rolled his eyes, turned back to see me. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It is a big deal,” I smiled. “It’s amazing, I’m really happy for you guys.”

“You are?” Jules asked, her voice smaller now.

“Of course,” I said. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Niall shrugged his shoulders, his eyes met mine when he spoke. “Well, I wasn’t exactly the most on board for you and Harry gettin’ together.”

“That was different,” I waved a hand, “and stupid.”

“Was it, though?” Jules’ question was pointed, apparently she still wanted us to be together as much as she had back then.

“Yes, Jules--it was different. It was us being dumb and horny.”

“I think you should come to her birthday party, chat with him.”

I watched Niall for a second. “And why is that?”

Another shrug. “I think it’d be good for you two to reconnect.”

“I’ll come,” I said, “I’m not against coming.”

“But you’re against reconnecting with Harry?” Another prod from Jules.

“I don’t know,” I let out a groan. “It’s been so long! I don’t even know what he’s been doing or who he’s been seeing or--.”

“No one,” Niall said. “He’s seeing no one.”

“Well, whatever,” I ignored him. “Whether or not he’s seeing someone I’ll still come.”

“Right,” Niall smirked, “but him being single is probably a good pull, right?”

“Don’t make this a thing,” I warned, another sip of tea through the smirk that took up residency on my face.

“Every single thing between the two of you has been a thing,” Jules said. “Maybe your souls have met before.”

“Enough with the reincarnation stuff, will you?” Niall looked over to her like she was crazy. I mean, maybe she was, but the look in his eyes was different now: less judgmental, more loving.

She waved him off, her focus back to me when she sighed. “You don’t have more questions about him?” She rested her elbows on the counter, offered a look that told me she didn’t believe my nonchalance.

“None,” I said.

“You don’t even want to know what he’s been asking about ya?”

I let my tongue slide against my teeth, a willful attempt to not take the bait.

“He knows we’re here,” Jules said--again, a casual admission and a curiosity on her end about how I’d react.

“Are you going to call him up and give him a full report as soon as you leave?” I eyed Niall playfully, giggled when he rolled his eyes.

“Probably,” he teased. “Tell him that you seem happier than I’ve ever seen ya.”

“Make sure to allude to the fact that it’s cause he’s finally not in my life,” I cracked.

“Just as mean as ever, though,” he laughed.

I smiled at them, a sense of relief to learn that peace could come after change, after heartbreak, and after hurt. But it was mostly nice to know that even if everything else had changed, Niall’s ability to poke fun at me and Jules’ affinity for cosmic conspiracy theories had remained exactly the same.

So I flew to New York a few weeks later, my hair shorter than the last time I’d been there and the sky a brighter blue. My apartment had been empty for a year--dust had gathered on the counters and the artwork I’d left on the walls felt out of place now.

I’d been in and out a few times, once for a meeting with my lawyer, another time when I flew in to write with Adam Levine. When I pushed the door open and tugged my suitcase inside, the emptiness felt all consuming.

It felt like I was sneaking into someone else’s house--pulling back the curtains in someone else’s bedroom and slipping into the shoes of someone I would never be.

Being back felt weird--different than I expected and somehow more nerve wracking than facing my mother or facing the truth: I was different.

The worst part about it was that the piano faced the same window and the same chairs sat on top of the same carpet. It had been frozen in time, a sad and stark reminder of what used to be.

But I didn’t have time to wallow in self-pity, though--soon enough whisked off to meet up with Jules and Nialls. I was excited to see Miles and Eddie despite feeling like an absolute idiot. Did they blame it all on me? Did any of them recognize how toxic Harry and I had been?

My nerves were palpable, leaving beads of sweat on my forehead when I walked behind Jules and Niall and the security detail that would spend the night by our sides.

A whole year of sobriety, not one drop in 362 days--and tonight was my first time in a bar.

Jules had offered something else: a restaurant, their new apartment, anywhere but a place that’s sole purpose was to get you drunk. But I declined. The Bitter End was the only place that this reunion could happen, and instead of using tequila to calm the thumping in my chest, I was left with breathing techniques I’d learned from a mediation app and my 1-year coin from AA in my pocket.

I had no idea if he’d even show up. I tried to pretend that I wasn’t nauseous all day when they were texting in a group, just like we used to before things exploded. Before I exploded.

So I decided that Harry’s presence tonight wouldn’t make or break me. His presence at all throughout my time in New York wouldn’t break me.

I didn’t want to be the bomb that someone needed to diffuse. I kept watch of the door and acted as if I wasn’t checking my phone for an update, simultaneously hoping he’d show up and hoping that I’d never have to face him.

But when the clock ticked closer to closing time and I stifled another yawn--apparently being sober in bars past midnight just made you exhausted--a feeling of disappointment was left circling in my chest. Maybe he didn’t want to see me. Maybe he just couldn’t do it.

Around 1am I climbed into the back of the car behind Jules, settled into my seat when she drunkenly giggled into Niall’s shoulder. I stared down at my phone screen and opened the group message from Harry.

I’ll try to swing by.

It was the feeling that had hovered inside of me for a long time, knotted in my ribs and tangled in my lungs. The feeling that used to have me reaching for a bottle: Not good enough.

But I noticed it, I knew it now. This was the moment I would have gone home and popped the champagne to let myself fall asleep without the echoing in my head: not good enough, not good enough, not good enough.

It felt good to know I was on the other side, more insight, more awareness and friends from AA to text if it really got dark again. But I looked to the middle seats in front of me, Nialls and Jules laughed between themselves, the streets of Lower Manhattan passed by the tinted windows and somewhere back home my mom was pouring another glass and my dad was ignoring her.

And yet I was okay. Something about time away from the band and time away from alcohol had taught me how to swim, no longer dragged beneath the surface by the uncomfortable emotions that tried to drown me for so long. I could fall asleep without the TV on and I wondered that night where he was, but I stayed afloat.

I hyped myself up the next day to show up to Jules’ party an hour early. I tucked flowers in a vase and rolled my eyes when Niall blasted songs from our first EP over the speakers, can’t believe we thought this shit was good, we sound so young! Jules obsessed over which shade of lipstick she should wear and I just tried to keep my hands busy.

Maybe he wouldn’t show up here, either.

But people spilled in and their roof deck was the perfect spot for a summer birthday party. By dinnertime I pretended that I didn’t hate small talk and made nice with people I hadn’t seen in years. Nice to see you, I’ve been good, yeah still writing. This wasn’t about me--this was for Jules.

He slipped in at some point, blended in with the crowd until I did another scan. My eyes caught his figure, a loosely buttoned shirt and a bracelet around his wrist that glistened in the sun when I stood frozen in place.

Sunglasses shielded his eyes and his hair was longer than before--he moved with ease, after all, he hadn’t disappeared and cost people their jobs.

Ian laughed by my side as if this wasn’t a monumental moment, he joked with Miles and Vince about something unrelated when I blinked a few times, looked around to see if anyone else had noticed his arrival. Okay, the sudden change in the atmosphere was apparently only noticeable to me.

I looked down at the red solo cup in my hand: cranberry juice, seltzer, a splash of lime. I excused myself quickly and weaved through the other people until I could slide the door to the master bedroom shut. The music was muffled on the other side of the wall, laughter from the party bounced against the door and now, I could breathe. In, out, inhale, exhale.

I walked over to the living room, met face to face with the bottles of liquor on the counter. It pulled me in, their labels and fancy names made my cheeks tingle. But instead of walking over and uncapping the tequila like I may have wanted to, I turned left down the hall, found myself in a room where they kept all their instruments.

A piano in the corner, one Niall saved up for our sophomore year after his birthday. I went and looked at the words scribbled on note paper beside it, an old glass of water--did Jules bicker with him like a true girlfriend about leaving his dishes out?

Beside it was a guitar, the one I’d gifted him after we signed the record label, the year we moved out of our first apartment. I plucked a few strings, a melody coming out when I let my fingers fumble through a progression.

Maybe this is how I’d been doing it. The desire to drink was usually quelled with a song, the outpouring of whatever emotion I wanted to run from--just like I’d hurried inside to avoid Harry.

He had the same hold over my heart whether I was drunk or sober, busy or bored. I’d been avoiding the vulnerability that he brought out of me, like the time he let me cut his hair and giggle in his sheets. I didn’t know what it was about him, something I felt I’d never fully capture in a song or in a sentence out loud.

There are things that I sing

that I'd never have the confidence to say

There are things I believe

that I only figure out when I sit down to play

The door creaked, a figure on the other side of the room when I looked up and stopped singing.

“Hi,” he said, his lips in a thin line like he didn’t know if he should smile or frown.

I put the guitar back in its stand and stood up. “Hi--sorry, I was just messing around.”

“Sounded good,” he nodded, a cup in his hand that he sipped from when he broke our gaze. “You can keep going, if you want. What’s it about?”

He took a few steps closer to me, set the solo cup on the piano and then picked up the guitar. He pulled the strap over his shoulder and tuned it a bit, looked up at me when I didn’t reply.

“Just a song,” I shrugged, unsure if the smirk on his face meant anything or if I was just reading too far into the dimple in his cheek.

He plucked what I was playing, easily able to recreate the song when he sat on a stool.

Nervousness in my words when they floated between us. “Shouldn’t we be outside?”

“S’been a minute since we wrote something together,” he shrugged. “Don’t think anyone will mind. Sing it again?”

I sat down, smoothed out the skirt of my dress and cleared my throat. I ran through the verse again, suddenly self conscious to be this real in front of him. This time I went on, eyes closed when it felt like the song had always existed.

The truth don't scare me in a melody,

immortalizing my sincerity

There are things that I sing that

I'd never have the confidence to say

Like that song about my parents that I'll never show 'em

I paused, laughed a little when I didn’t know where to take it. He hummed for a second, knew we were almost at the hook. He filled in the rest like it was easy.

And the ones about my exes that they don't deserve

But when it comes to you, I'm still trying to find the words

“Hey,” Jules’ voice was at the door. “Everything okay?”

“Yes, yeah,” I stood up, Harry let out a laugh at my quick reaction. “Sorry--we were just--”

“Messing around,” he stole my words from earlier, looked up at me when he set the guitar back down.

“I was just coming out,” I said, walking over to Jules.

“Me too,” Harry followed behind me quickly.

“You guys can stay,” she laughed, “you don’t have to come out.”

“S’fine,” Harry said, my words muffled between: “we were done.”

Jules rolled her eyes but headed back for the living room. “Glad you two are reacquainted,” she smiled over her shoulder.

I ignored her comment, Harry got pulled off by an old classmate and I fell into conversation with Eddie when he introduced me to the girl he’d started dating. I pinched his cheek and felt like a proud parent to learn he’d moved on from his crush on me--a true marker that time could heal all.

I ignored the melody that burned in my head, stole glances at Harry and tried to make sense of the encounter we had shared. If nothing else came from tonight, at least I had the start of a new song.

I caught Ian up on the writing I’d done with other artists--he’d been in the loop and even given me a recommendation for a new manager when I moved to LA. But when the sun started to set and people started to get drunker than they’d been, I found myself sitting off to the side, tracing the pink skyline of the city that still felt like home.

Niall kissed Jules on the cheek when she welcomed late arrivals--commotion on the other end of the roof deck--it felt reassuring to know that everyone’s world kept spinning without me at the center.

“We’ll have to finish that one, eventually,” Harry sat down next to me, folded his arms across his chest when he smiled. “Might already have half the hook written up here,” he pointed to his temple.

I shifted down on the patio furniture, careful to keep enough room between us.

“Pretty sure that’s my song,” I eyed him. “And now you’re writing it for me?”

He pushed his lips out in thought. “Could be ours, if you wanted.”

I rolled my eyes, tilted my head to the side. “Still just as annoying as I remembered.”

He smiled at that, quiet for a second when he held my gaze. “S’good to see you.”

I didn’t know how to reply, so I nodded my head. “Ditto.”

“Sorry I couldn’t make it last night, I was working and ended up staying late at the studio.”

I raised my eyebrows at him, looked at the glass in his hand. Clear--ice cubes that swirled around in the summer heat. “Is that vodka?” I changed the topic. “I thought you were a beer guy.”

“It’s water,” he shrugged. “Figured you shouldn’t be the only sober one here tonight.”

I bit at my lip, nodded at the sweet gesture but felt like words were stuck in my throat. “I didn’t know you knew.”

He let out a short laugh, “Jules isn’t great at keeping secrets.”

I shook my head, pretended to be annoyed when I teased: “never had any privacy in that band.”

“Yeah, well--we fucked a lot of things up.”

“We?” I eyed him suspiciously for a moment, certain he meant me.

“I’m the one who couldn’t figure out how to not be a dick to you, so--yeah, we.”

“I think me being a liar and drunk all the time takes the cake, but I appreciate you saying that.”

“I didn’t say you don’t take the cake,” he laughed, knocking his knee against mine. “But I should have done a lot differently.”

I twisted a ring around my finger, pulled for more information. “Like?”

He smirked, rolled his eyes at my nosiness but then let out a sigh. “Fought with you less, called you out on your drinking sooner, not dated Lila,” he trailed off like maybe there was more, but I cut him off.

“I don’t regret you dating Lila.”

“So I’ve heard,” he smiled. “So typical of you to steal my girlfriend.”

“You broke up with her!” I laughed. “We bonded over both going through big break ups. You dumped her, I broke up the band--it was a very healing experience for us to have each other. She’s a good friend, she always will be.”

He laughed, looked out at the sky and shrugged. “Yeah, she just wasn’t for me, I knew it all along,” he teased.

I pulled my head back. “Wait--if you knew that then why did you make me be so fucking nice to her?”

“I needed her to stick around,” he said this with a smirk, a dimple appeared in his cheek when he dropped my gaze and then looked down at his hands.

“Spill it,” I said, angling myself towards him. “You’re not telling me something.”

He let out a sigh, looked over at me and then rubbed at his eyes, almost like he was embarrassed. “I needed her to stick around because I wanted to make you jealous.”

“Make me jealous?! Of her? And being with you?”

He fought off a smile for a second, but when I let out a belly laugh and leaned back, he cracked. “It was stupid--we were in a constant push and pull back then and I didn’t know how to admit it to you that I was hurt when we broke--when we stopped sleeping together.”

I bit at the inside of my cheek, let his words float in the evening air high above the East Village. But then I nodded, voice small when I said: “yeah, it sucked. I’m sorry I made you keep my secret.”

He looked at me, almost surprised by my words, but then he let out a breath. “I’m sorry I held it over your head for so long. And tried to make you jealous.”

I watched a blinking light in the sky, a plane landing at LaGuardia or a star fizzling out. “I guess I deserved it.”

His eyebrows arched at that, a silent request for more information when I shrugged.

“I was basically always buzzed and lying to the most important people in my life. A hot mess would be an understatement.”

He bit back a laugh, nodded quietly. “I get it, though.”

My heart did a somersault, an uncomfortable feeling that lingered when the sky became a hazier orange. “You do?”

He nodded again, more confident this time, like he knew exactly how I felt without the slightest of explanation. “Grief does crazy shit to people. And I don’t think you ever got to heal yours.”

I clenched my jaw inadvertently, his words were true but plucked at something in me so deep and real that I didn’t have the words to reply. Luckily, he knew that.

“We were both different people back then, I think.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “And a lot has changed.”

“Can I admit something?”

“Shoot.”

“My feelings haven’t.”

I looked over at him quickly, Jules’ words perched overhead like mistletoe. Twin flames--a soul connection that typically made me gag. This time, my heartbeat slowed and the anxiety I’d had about running into him seemed to dissipate, I nodded. I knew they hadn’t, I knew mine hadn’t, either. His words weren’t shocking, and when the last three years played over in my head, I wondered what would have happened if someone else had joined the band.

I smiled, an unstable attempt at honesty and vulnerability. “I just wish we could have a fresh start, you know?”

He laughed at this, angled himself towards me when he smiled. “Nice to meet you, I’m Harry. What’s your name?”

I eyed him for a second, trying to decide if I thought his ploy to start fresh was stupid or romantic. I let my hand reach forward to shake his. “Cat,” I nodded, lips twisted into a smile before I could even meet his gaze. “Call me Cat.”

He tugged me closer to him, paused for a second before he let our lips meet. “Cat it is. But I think we have a song to finish.”

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pumpkinpot · 3 years

Text

Hoshi

A/N: this is part of the Citrus Dome Sci-Fi collab. this is also pure fluff. no smut, no real angst. just spooky summer vibes and poly love. I hope you enjoy. (I’m sorry for grammatical errors in advance.)

synopsis: since beginning your relationship with Katsuki Bakugou and Ochako Uraraka you’ve developed a love for exploring abandon places with them whenever you three have time to explore. This time, so happens to land on a derelict observatory. (additional head canons for this story on my tik tok under pumpkinpots)

“It says here it was abandoned in the mid-nineteenth century due to the spike in light pollution with the growth of the city,” you say, pointing to the dome at the peak of the building. “All of the mobile telescopes were transferred to the university's observatory, while this placed rotted away.

Uraraka half listens, levitating sheetrock from the doorway and discarding them in the nearby field.

“Why just abandon it?” Katsuki asks, fiddling with varying lenses in his camera bag. “Couldn’t this have been a museum or something?”

“Yeah,” you agree, shifting a glance to make sure Uraraka doesn’t need help. “It looks like it was bought by a merchant in the eighties who wanted to turn it into a house, but he was indicted for tax evasion before the renovations ever finished. It hasn’t been touched since.”

He scoffs with an exaggerated roll of his eyes. “Rich idiots.”

Uraraka brushes specks of dust off her palms across her cut-off shorts before urging us alone. “Shall we?”

It takes two and a half pushes to nudge the door wide enough to squeeze through. The observatory opens to us with a groan of whining metal and the scratch of loose dirt on concrete.

Centered in the main foyer, a gaping mural of blue and white cobblestone depicts a dusty map of astrology stars.

Katsuki has to be coaxed with a promise to be flashed to pose under the Taurus constellation for a picture, meanwhile, Uraraka floats just above Pisces with a cute puffy cheeked expression.

Names, small sayings, and symbols decorate the wall in vibrant graffiti, the place a cocktail of color and wild Ivy.

"It's a lot more lit than I thought I'd be," Uraraka says, stuffing her flashlight into her bag.

Katuski keeps the light attached to his camera lit as he weaves in and out of rooms, zooming in on old books and broken equipment.

We follow him through a puzzle of what seemed to be living quarters and small classrooms, ending in a half oval auditorium.

At the center of the stage a white globe balances on a pillar of cement.

“What’s this?” Uraraka asks.

You touch where someone had attempted to derail the sphere like a baseball before trailing your eyes above the layered seating. “It's a projector ball. Technicians would likely project light from there into the ball to make it seem like the planet or star they were studying. That's why it's,” you knock on the sphere's cool solid surface. “Crystal.”

Uraraka shines her phone’s light into it, the shattered pieces reflecting shapes in a dim glow.

Katsuki points the camera into the orb, the bluish tint reminds you of the similar one in the abandoned lighthouse you’d explored with them two years ago. Though that one would have lit from the inside.

Quickly you explore the base and second levels, eager to get to the actual observatory. It's evident where the renovations to make this a home had been started and never finished. Small cracks in the floor, sealed with caulk, loose wooden planks pillaring knocked in walls.

It could have been a beautiful home, you think to yourself.

Up the second flight of stairs gradually more and more light fills the space until you are bathed in the orange glow of early dusk. A large open scare slits the dome, edging with rust and ivy. The circular room holds nothing of true value, nothing left behind but broken tables and a ladder to the viewing balcony tailing the opening of the dome.

“The big telescope that would have been here-” Uraraka says, fiddling with the screw holes in the floor, “- would have been a refracting telescope. It uses small bits of glass to magnify what you’re looking at, then is bent back through the telescope hitting the eyepiece. The other kind is a reflector,” she continues, “It's got a primary mirror at the bottom of the lens into a second mirror than a third eyepiece mirror. This one is mostly used to see the different parts of a star to see what it's made out of.”

Katsuki and you exchange looks of pure astonishment. "how do you know all this?" you ask.

She fishes a gum wrapper from one of the holes, tossing it to the side. “Before I was accepted into UA I was really considering going into astronomy. I thought it fit so well with my quirk, but the courses were too expensive.”

"More expensive than UA?" Katuski asks, refocusing his camera.

She nods, seeming just as dumbfounded as us.

“Do you think it could work on my explosions?”

“If you were in space maybe,” you hypothesize, “but in that case, we probably wouldn’t see it for a long while.”

He seems semi disappointed as if his evening plans had been somehow derailed.

You run your hands across the walls of the dome, dusk sun baking its metal frame like a soup pot.

For a moment you just watch them. It’d been so long since the opportunity arose for the three of you to go exploring. With you still temporarily stationed in the American hero commission and those two workings in Japan it was rare to find time to skype let alone go on adventures. You were lost in the bliss of having your partners so near without having to scream about a lost wifi connection when your hand hit something protruding from the wall.

“What are these?” you ask, inspecting circular gears attached to a crank.

“It looks like the wheel to turn the dome,” Uraraka says.

Katsuki zooms in on the puzzle of rigid plates. “This bitch turns?”

“Yeah, that slit doesn't move so the dome has to, to accommodate where in the sky they were looking.”

Katsuki fingers the gears a moment, mapping its track all across the sphere. He traces along the parts not layered in rust until he’s back at the start. “Do you think it still works?”

“Not without some serious lube and strong arms.”

“We’re one for two,” you suggest.

Katsuki hands over his camera to Uraraka, positioning himself opposite you to push the lever, while you pull left.

At first, the dial stays put, its stance unforgiving, but after a bit more pull than push a deafening whine reverberating through the entire observatory.

No visible move happens until the second crank roundabout when the shift of light against concrete becomes clear.

Katsuki’s eyes light with sheer amazement as the entire dome rotates around you. We are halfway through a full rotation before Uraraka shouts for you to stop.

You push on the lever stilling its movements as quickly as you can.

She holds a finger head tilted to the side. “Do you hear that?”

Your breath balloons in your chest as you lean in closer. The tiniest of whimpers echo around the dome from the viewing balcony.

One after another you file up the ladder, hopping on the edge of the dome. Balancing on the concrete crease between the moving track and the rest of the building you search for the sound.

“Here!” Uraraka yells from the other side.

You sprint as much as you dare, teetering along the two-story edge.

She squats over the body of a squirming animal, a tuft of fur caught in the track of the dome's rotation. She coddles its little frame, before reaching a hand out to you. “Y/n, your knife-”

Hesitantly you hand it over. She snips away the stuck pieces muttering thanks that none of the actual tail got caught. She folds the blade back into itself, pinching leaves and sticks from the animal's fur and tossing them over the side.

She holds it up, floppy ears and a black nose making it a nearly recognizable creature. A puppy.

He looks to be light brown, but that could be the soot.

Katsuki checks around the dome for any signs of a litter or mamma, before joining us with a shake of his head.

The pup squirms and with an open mouth, letting all sorts of noises tumble from his dirt-covered tongue.

Uraraka floats the puppy to the floor of the dome, as we file down the ladder. You empty the contents of your water bottle into a cup for drinking and the rest onto its back for cooling.

His fur peaks through white and brown spotted under layers of grime.

“Well,” Uraraka says, “we’ve been talking about wanting to expand our family.”

“I suppose there’s no better place to start,” you add, both of us looking to Katsuki for consensus.

He passes glances between the three of us. “Fine, but I get to name it.”

“Alright, but we get veto power.”

“Explosion-”

“Veto,” you say in unison.

He looks around puffy-lipped. “I didn't even get to finish.”

“Explosion nothing,” Uraraka clarifies.

He’s silent for a long moment looking around the space. “Hoshi?.”

“Star?” you confirm.

“This observatory was used to study the stars, wasn’t it?” He bats.

You and Uraraka exchange a satisfied, yet surprised look. You hadn’t expected something so- normal. This is after all the same man that made you name your golden pothos “boom boom boi” in his honor.

“I like it,” you say.

“Approved,” adds Uraraka.

We better take our picture before it gets too dark,” he says, turning away so you can’t see the blush on his cheeks. He switches out his filming camera for a smaller polaroid, propping it up on the edge of a broken table.

He runs back as the timer ticks down. He slides to your right side, Uraraka on your left. Their arms link behind you as you hold Hoshi up to your mid-chest. Clicking down from five you all give your cheesiest grins. A rectangular card spits from the bottom of the camera.

Ochaco shakes it a few times, swapping you a picture, for a puppy.

You wait for the picture to pixelate before opening the ninety-cent notebook of film slips and position it in the next available spot.

Urarka’s cut-off shorts and Katsuki's tanned shoulders are a stark contrast to the puffy blue coat and chunky knit beanie from the last abandoned mansion expedition last time. Before that, the three of us accidentally matched our windbreakers to Midoryia during a tour of The Ghost Candy Shop in Kyoto. We look like a group of tourists.

The small book seemed to be filling quickly despite the rareness of time to get away. Memories pile up from when it was just Uraraka and Katsuki to when you became a staple to their adventures. They’d given you responsibility for the book to garner your importance to them in their relationship until the reasoning for the gift became nothing more than routine. You were theirs, and they were yours.

Now a new member had sprouted in your little family, and if you squinted, you could imagine the rest of the pages being filled with the pup in aged years to maybe more as time goes on.

Right now, you were happy with the three and a half of you.

#bakugou x reader #uraraka x reader #bakugou x uraraka #ochako x reader #mha x reader #bakugou fluff #bakugou x y/n #Uraraka fluff #mha fluff

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septicstories · 3 years

Text

Big Life in a Small Town (Part 1)

A/N: This is based on the song "Santa Fe (Prologue)" from the Newsies musical! It's not based on the plot of the musical. The song will be altered a tad, but not too much! In the next part though, I'll have to do some edits. But for now, you've got this... mess? I dunno, I'm writing this before it's done. This is post-X-men Apocalypse, so Peter is in his late 20's.

Genre: Bittersweet fluff

Warnings: alcohol, drinking, mentions of broken limbs, daddy issues, no beta reader, minimal editing

Word count: 1.3k (1,385 words)

The X-mansion was quiet, the cool midnight air only changing currents occasionally when a silver blur sprinted around.

Pietro had his younger brother in his arms, running around. Peter injured his leg a while ago, stuck on crutches. ANd it was killing the young speedster.

And Pietro noticed.

So he scooped his younger brother up out of his room, running him around the mansion's vast yard until he smiled. That's when he brought him up to one of the rooftop balconies of the mansion.

The two siblings weren't the only ones in their family who lived in the mansion. Pietro's twin, Wanda, was fast asleep, her room near the balcony.

Pietro, as immature as he may seem, was wise beyond his years. He'd seen more things than he ever would have wanted to for a 35-year-old man. Hell, anyone would be unsettled when you find your mother died of sickness, and your father was out of the picture when your younger brother was born a few years after.

Pietro and Peter sat on the balcony, a case of beer between the two, a sudden scoff came from the older speedster.

"What's up, you alright?" Peter asked, looking at his brother.

Pietro's eyes were glued to the ground below them, a sour expression on his face.

"Those streets down there," Pietro began, a dry laugh leaving his lips. "They sucked the life right out of our old man. Well, they aren't doing that to me."

Peter pursed his lips, watching as his older brother took a swig of his beer.

Pietro has always hated staying in one place for too long. The mansion hadn't really ever been his favorite place. Staying at their aunt's house in D.C. was something he looked forward to every summer. But, even then, he could only stay there for a few days before needing to go somewhere else. Not just from his need to move, but the U.S. government still wasn't absolutely fond of mutants.

"But everyone wants to come to New York," Peter let out a small chuckle. To an outsider, it'd sound like he was in disbelief, but he understood how Pietro felt.

Staying in one place was hard. But Peter also managed to make himself a family here at the mansion as he grew up. He met the ever-sweet Jean Grey when he was 20 years old. The poor girl had some trauma that no one but Chuck knew about. He got to meet Hank, and Raven, and all of the other younger kids. He thought of them all as his younger siblings.

He couldn't leave.

"You keep your small life in the big city. Give me a big life in a small town."

Pietro's words snapped Peter out of his thoughts, looking to his older brother. Pietro's eyes had lifted from the ground, looking up to the sky.

"They say folks are dying to get here."

"What about you, Piet?"

"Me? I'm dying to get away... to a little town out west that's spankin' new," Pietro said with a grin. "And while I've never been there, I can see it clear as day! If you want, I bet you, you could see it, too.

Peter has always had a particular question on his mind, that he always knew the answer to.

Then why haven't you gone? What's stopping you?

But, as always, Peter kept his mouth shut. He didn't want Wanda and Pietro to leave, as dumb as it may be. They were the only family he had left. Well, that he knew of and that knew of him.

Erik was another person he'd address when he had the courage.

But not...

Not now.

"Close your eyes."

Peter looked at his brother again, who was staring back at him. Honestly, he was waiting for his brother to snap in his face and use what became his favorite phrase after a few movie nights: "Hello, McFly?"

"Come with me, where it's clean and green and pretty, and they went and made a city out of clay."

Clay? A city out of clay? That sounds... odd. Peter hasn't stayed too long in other parts of the world, opting to stick to the Northeast area of the U.S. Occasionally, he'll go further South or a little bit further West. But never past Kansas.

"Why, the minute that you get there, folks will walk right up and say, 'Welcome home, son. Welcome home to Santa Fe!'"

Being called son was something the Maximoff boys wanted more than they would ever elude to. Their father? Out of the picture for the most part, up until they realized he was a terrorist. And he didn't even know about Peter.

Of course, the townsfolk of Santa Fe may not call you "son" as soon as you land on the premise. But, two bastard sons can dream, can't they?

"Planting crops. Splitting rails. Swapping tales around the fire," Pietro's grin grew as he spoke. He really thought about this a lot, didn't he? "Except for Sunday when you lie around all day."

Peter didn't know how much Pietro truly thought about leaving. Pietro's mind was full of places to go and see, places where he could take his family and live without having to deal with attacks from the U.S. government.

Santa Fe was where they'd go next in the U.S., but Sokovia was certainly the next best option. The U.S. government wouldn't come looking for them in Sokovia.

Right?

"Soon your friends are more like family, and they're begging you to stay! Isn't that neat?" Pietro asked as Peter took a large sip from his beer. "Living sweet in Santa Fe."

Pietro trailed off, almost in a dream-like state, making Peter flinch. He really fucking wanted out, huh?

"Hey, no one worries about a bad leg in Santa Fe. You just hop on a palomino, you'll ride in style!" Pietro joked, knocking his shoulder into his brother's.

"Feature me, ridin' in style," Peter giggled, taking a swig of his beer again.

"Hey, I bet a few months of clean air, you could toss that crutch for good!"

"Santa Fe," Peter and Pietro mumbled in unison, one happy and the other more tired. "You can bet, we won't let those bastards beat us. We won't beg anyone to treat us fair and square. There's a life that's worth the living, and I'm gonna do my share."

"Work the land, chase the sun." Pietro ran his hands through his hair, standing up.

"Swim the whole Rio Grande just for fun!" Pietro and Peter shouted together. The two had massive grins spreading across their faces, just happy to see the other smiling.

"Watch me stand!" Peter stood up quickly, only to feel a sharp pain jolt through his bad leg. His hands flew to the balcony railing, gripping it tightly as he let out a choked noise of pain.

"Watch me run..."

Pietro frowned when he saw his brother's grimace, watching Peter set himself down into a sitting position. The poor kid was gritting his teeth and sucking in harsh breaths as he set himself down.

"Hey, hey..." Pietro began softly, sitting down beside his brother before slapping a hand on his shoulder. "Don't you know that we're a family?"

Peter's eyes met Pietro's, painting over his grimace with a weak grin. "Yeah, b--"

"Would I let you down?" Pietro asked.

Peter let out a weak laugh as his brother continued.

"No way. Just hold on, kid, until that train makes Santa Fe."

The younger speedster let out a yawn, leaning his head on his brother's shoulder.

"Let's get you to bed, okay?" Pietro said, only getting a nod from Peter.

Pietro scooped his younger brother up in his arms, speeding through the mansion into Peter's room before setting him down.

"Good night, Peter."

"Good night, Pietro."

Pietro sped out of Peter's room, only to be stopped when he passed Wanda's room. His sleepy twin gave him a look, one that he didn't see often, and it concerned him.

"Pietro, we're being called to Sokovia," Wanda whispered sleepily.

"What? Why? All three of us?"

"No. Peter needs to stay here. He's got a broken leg, Pietro. Just you and I."

Pietro took in a quick breath before nodding.

"When do we leave?"

"... you didn't see that coming..."

A/N: Haha, cliffhangers are fun, ain't they? Okay, but, here's what you have for now! The other one is already in my drafts, and I've got plans for that! So, I'll get all that shit out, and we'll be good! I've got so much shit in my drafts, holy shit. Okay, uh... I don't have much to say, so thank you for reading! I don't necessarily have a tag list for this sort of stuff, so if you want to be on a tag list, let me know! And please let me know if you find a typo or something that doesn't make sense. Like I said, there's minimal editing.

#septic's stories #quicksilver #pietro maximoff #peter maximoff #wanda maximoff #scarlet witch #marvel fanfiction #x-men fanfiction #marvel #x-men

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peaches-writes · 4 years

Text

hwang’s guide to gardening

description: your neighbor, hyunjin, is a gardening novice trying to grow flowers and vegetables on their balcony for the summer member: hyunjin genre: fluff, summer au, neighbor au word count: 3.4k warnings: use of the word cuttings (but they’re used for leaves!) note: i’m not a plant expert my plants just died from the heat and typhoon and i miss gardening so i’m channeling my plant baby fever into writing. also, my writing’s rusty.

It’s day 12 of Hyunjin tending to his mini garden of flowers and herbs, some of which he bought from an Instagram store with an aesthetic feed and questionable pricing. So far so good, he thinks to himself as he carefully waters the lilies and vegetables lined across the small expanse of the dorm balcony—of the 6 clay pots, no one’s threatening death yet. “By this Saturday, some of you might just be in our movie night pasta.” He reminds his pot of basil leaves. “I don’t know if I can tell you that.”

“I don’t think you’re supposed to.” Seungmin agrees as he passes by the open clear sliding door, on the way to set up breakfast with Felix. “There are studies of plants dying because they get badmouthed.”

Panic briefly sets on Hyunjin’s face and his first instinct is to give the basil leaves extra drops of water. “Oh shit, I’m sorry—wait, I cursed, is that bad? I’m sorry, I’m sorry!”

Behind him, Seungmin and Felix laugh.

“If you’re done with your plants, breakfast is ready.” Seungmin calls for him.

“Yeah, yeah, sure.” Hyunjin nods absentmindedly as he moves along to his 4 other plants. “Here you go, babies, grow well, please.”

Hyunjin continues watering and tending to his other plants, making sure to whisper encouraging words now with the new gardening tip from Seungmin. He works in silence for a while, until, on the window right on the adjacent fire escape, you then appear, the usual trays of succulents in hand—9:10 AM on the dot as he has observed for the past almost 2 weeks.

“Hey, Hyunjin.” You greet when Hyunjin turns to your direction to water his 2 pots of lilies. You sometimes go out to sit on the fire escape but on most days, like today, you settle for reaching for everything from your window. “Any progress on the radishes?”

Hyunjin takes a brief glance on his pot of radishes as you set down your succulents on the damp fire escape then reports, “They’re growing alright.” He then gestures over to a tray of succulent lead cuttings you’ve laid out nearest to the edge of the fire escape, where it can get the most sun. “What are those for?”

“These? I’ve been drying them for a few days before planting them so I can grow more succulents.” You answer as if you’ve just made a new discovery. “If they’re successful, I might consider selling them.”

“How long does it take to grow?” “Around a month? I just looked this up on YouTube the other day.”

Hyunjin nods understandingly. Though you’ve had a habit of tending to plants longer than he has (even before you moved in the building with your roommate, he recalls), succulents were a new venture for you—at least from the sporadic small talks you’ve had over the window so far. “Can I do that to my plants?”

“Depends on the plant, you should look it up.” You briefly survey his garden with the limited view you have from your window. “I think you can definitely cut the basil stems.”

“Really?” You nod with a hum, having previously taken care of basil leaves yourself. “Huh, that wasn’t on the instructions I got from the store.”

“Cut some leaves up to the stem then put them in water until they grow roots, from what I remember, that should do the trick.” You advice, finally done with putting all of your succulent trays outside after a long night of rain. Faintly, Hyunjin then hears your roommate call for you from inside your own apartment as she does on most mornings. “Okay, I gotta go, Jisoo’s calling for me.”

“Alright, see you.” Hyunjin waves goodbye to you with a smile as you back away from the window, already done with tending to his own garden as well.

Once you’re out of sight, Hyunjin also stands up from squatting around his balcony for the past 5 minutes, stretching his arms and legs then returning back inside the apartment.

And that’s how most of his mornings have been since he began gardening.

“You’re all smiley.” Jisung immediately notes teasingly, alone on the dinner table when Hyunjin steps into the kitchen while everyone else who’s finished breakfast have returned to their own rooms. At that, Hyunjin is suddenly aware of the dazed smile he wears. “Did you see Y/N out again?”

“Yes but it’s not because I saw them that I’m all smiley!” Hyunjin quickly defends himself, making a beeline to the refrigerator to retrieve juice. “I just got a lot of gardening tips today, that’s all.”

“Sure, whatever you say.” Jisung chuckles, turning his attention back to the video he’s watching on his phone.

Two days later, Hyunjin goes to his balcony garden to see you already seated on the fire escape, a rectangular pot on your lap where you strategically place the succulent cuttings you’ve been drying. At the faint rustling of his pajamas, you immediately look up from your work to greet him with a simple wave. “They’re ready to go.” You proudly tilt the pot towards his direction in such a way that the cuttings don’t move.

“You’re not going to bury them on the soil?” Is the first question Hyunjin asks as he squats down on the ground and picks up his watering can.

“If I do, they’ll rot.” You pick up a stem cutting from their drying tray, showing him the dried up opening. “This is where the plant will grow after a few days of keeping them inside and occasionally watering them, it’s the side that used to stick on the mom plant.”

“And when they fully grow?” “Then I’ll bury them on the soil and they’ll be new life!”

You see genuine fascination on his face so you say, “Amazing, ‘no?”

“And it’ll be this way for a month—it sounds hard.” He muses, proceeding to water his plants. He thinks of his own lilies, growing, yes, but painstakingly slow in his eyes since it’s the first time he’s growing them.

“It is—it’s quite the bargain.” You agree with a nod. “But I’ll be the happiest person ever if a lot of them sprout.”

Despite only knowing you the mostly from your small conversations every morning, Hyunjin thinks he likes you the best when you’re talking about something you’re passionate about. “I’m sure they’ll grow, you take care of them well.”

“Don’t flatter me.” You manage a chuckle. “Still, I worry since it’s not the same as the other plants I have back home. These are a bit unconventional, to say the least.”

“Nah, I really believe you’ll do well raising them.” He persists. “Just trust the process.”

You nod through your work, a smile unconsciously forming on your lips at the encouragement. “Tell you what? I’ll give you one for free if at least half of these live.”

“Really?”

“Yeah, so you can have more variety on your garden.” You answer. “And you can tell your 2,000 Instagram followers about my new summer business.”

Hyunjin chuckles at the thought, though seriously contemplating it. “I’ll trade you with these lilies if you want.” He offers, suddenly confident of the lilies he’s been worrying about.

"Oh? Don’t you want to save them for someone special?”

Hyunjin is immediately flustered by this. “N-No? There’s no one special lately.”

You raise an eyebrow, questioningly at him. “Really? I thought you’d be the type.”

Hyunjin is quite popular in school, you think to yourself. A month ago, back when you still had classes, you remember how Hyunjin’s often the talk of your classmates in a lot of general classes.

He shrugs, though somehow it makes him feel iffy to say what he just said along with, “I just wanted to try growing flowers.”

Glancing briefly at you from his pot of basil leaves, you seem unfazed by his flushed cheeks, “Well, eventually the lilies might die since they’re seasonal. You might want to consider giving them to someone at least—maybe your mom or Kkami, I don’t know.” You suggest. “You’re growing them really well, too, it’d be a shame if you didn’t show them to other people.”

You remember how his roommates teased him when he got the seeds and planting kit in the mail so you made sure to mention his mom (whom you’ve only met once when students were leaving for the holidays) and his dog (who got lost once in the rooftop while you were drying clothes).

“Aw, but I’ll miss them.” “Don’t worry, I think you can grow the bulbs.”

“Really?” You hum in yes. “I’ll look that up later.”

Naturally, you then continue to work in silence until you finished your work earlier and bid him goodbye—a rare occurrence since he usually leaves first.

When you leave, Hyunjin immediately whips out his phone and searches how to propagate lilies.

It’s day 22, Felix has started to pester Hyunjin on when his basil leaves will grow again for another bowl of movie night pasta, and his lilies are almost ready to bloom, reaching up almost to his thighs. They’re pink Asiatic lilies, a pop of color amidst all the green leaves and dull shades of root crops, but lately, he’s more fascinated with how you’ve been growing your succulents that seem to grow agonizingly slow, especially since you keep them inside throughout the day rather than let them bask in full sun like your other grown succulents.

“They’re echevaria lolas.” You stumble over the pronunciation this particular morning, letting them sit outside for the fresh morning air and faint sunlight before the sun fully drenches your side of the building later in the afternoon. “The mom looked like a lotus so eventually they’ll look like lotuses too.”

“Everyone good so far?” Hyunjin asks while googling how to propagate radishes for later.

“There were some two or three who’ve died, unfortunately.” You frown, showing him the barely noticeable empty spaces on your pot. “But it’s okay, I guess, since I have a lot more.”

“How do you know if they’ve died?” “They wrinkle or turn purple.”

“Oh, sorry.” He frowns too which you stifle a giggle at knowing he’s starting to care really deeply for plant life.

“It’s cool.” You shrug. “That’s just how it is.”

You also show him how hints of roots and stems are now growing on some of your leaf cuttings, the biggest smile on your face he’s ever seen in the short time you’ve been neighbors so far.

“I’ll give you this one.” You point to the biggest leave with the biggest progress in the group. “I predict that by next week it’ll have a center already or maybe even its own new leaf!”

“Ah, you don’t have to!” He insists, waving his hand dismissively. “What if it’s the prettiest? Then everyone would want to buy it when you sell them.”

“If it’s the prettiest, then it better end up on your garden so that I’ll know it’ll fully grow prettily.” You counter.

Though you said it casually, Hyunjin swore to Jeongin later on that he felt that he almost fainted in front of you then—out of the small crush he’s harbored over you the entire summer or honor of you entrusting one of your plants to him, he’s not quite sure.

“I think Y/N’s nice.” Jeongin comments. “And I think you have a crush.”

On the cloudy afternoon of day 28, Hyunjin jogs down to the building’s lobby to retrieve his package of new clay pots and seeds. They’re smaller compared to the ones he bought last time since they’ll only be housing a new batch of root crops (after Felix hoarded almost all of his radishes and basil leaves last week). Arriving at the building front door to meet the delivery man, he sees you coming home from your summer job at the ice cream parlor on the next block.

“Hey.” He greets you, feeling a bit weird since you’re not upstairs on the fire escape. “How was work?”

The delivery man leaves after Hyunjin pays, making way for you as you climb up the steps to the front door. “It was okay, not a lot of people since it’s been raining lately.” You shrug off your raincoat and close your umbrella before stepping inside, walking next to Hyunjin as you both climb up the stairs to your respective apartments on the 4th floor.

Hyunjin also hasn’t seen you lately since it started raining, forcing you to keep your succulents inside and leaving only some of your leaves to stay outside the whole day. “And how are the leaf cuttings?”

“They’re okay.” You answer. “They all have roots now!”

“That’s...that’s good to hear.” He comments awkwardly, suddenly finding it difficult to talk about anything. After all, it’s one of the rare times he’s seen you outside your place.

Luckily, you pick up the conversation from him. “How about you? It’s been almost a month, are the lilies blooming yet?”

At this, Hyunjin visibly frowns from the corner of your eye. “They’re growing taller but they’re not blooming yet.”

“Maybe they just need more time.” You console him, finally reaching the 4th floor. “Plants don’t care much about exact dates and times but they’ll grow eventually.”

You glance over at Hyunjin as he walks further to his dormitory’s door adjacent yours. He turns to your direction before going inside, his frown now a small smile. “I hope so, thanks.”

You nod. “No problem.” You smile at him before blurting out, “I believe in you, if-if that helps.”

When you do check his balcony later on that day, you see his lilies have grown significantly taller since the last time you went out on your fire escape but as he said, they haven’t even bloomed yet.

Hyunjin’s lilies bloom on day 32 which is day 18 of your leaf cuttings. You went out to your fire escape earlier than usual on this particular morning so that your succulents can get a lot of sun after a few days of rain.

“Congratulations!” Hyunjin comes out to his balcony with your proud exclaim and he immediately turns to your direction where his lilies also are in his line of vision, fully-bloomed. “Congrats on your first flowers!”

“Thanks.” He shyly grins from ear to ear, kneeling in front of his flowers to observe them.

“They’re really pretty.” You comment. “You raised them well.”

At the compliment, he blushes. “Do you want some?” Hyunjin looks up to you and this time, you’re the one who’s flustered. “I can cut up a few.”

“What? No, I’m cool, thanks.” You shrug off the rising heat on your face. “I don’t have vases that match the flowers, anyway.”

At this point, both of you (albeit unknowingly) think that your excuses are getting more and more ridiculous but Hyunjin seems to just accept it and say, “I’ll go get Felix and Seungmin! They need to see this.”

“Go get Chan too, it looks like he hasn’t seen the light of day since summer started.” You chuckle, remembering how you haven’t seen the oldest boy in their apartment much since summer started.

“Yeah, good idea.” Hyunjin hurries inside, calling to his roommates eating breakfast.

After a while, as you were preparing to go back inside your own apartment, all seven of Hyunjin’s roommates cramp into the small balcony, all in different expressions of surprise at the flowers.

“Woah, they’re so pretty!” You hear Felix comment under his breath.

“Hyung, can I get some?” Jeongin asks to which Hyunjin jokingly replies, “You have to pay for them!”

You greet the boys from your space on the fire escape and they greet you back with knowing smiles to which Hyunjin elbows Jisung who stands nearest to him. “Yah.”

“What? Can’t I greet Y/N?” Jisung whispers loudly.

“You have that weird look!” “What weird look?”

Luckily, you were already inside since Jisoo called on you again before Jisung told everyone of Hyunjin’s little crush.

“Ooh, what if you give some of these to Y/N next-door?” Minho suggests.

“They said they’re ok with not getting some of them.” Hyunjin answers. “I’m planning to send some to my mom and dad.”

“Hyunjin, even when they say they don’t want flowers, you should still give them flowers.” Changbin insists matter-of-factly.

“Ah, I have a better idea!” Chan exclaims.

You come home from work on day 34 and come across Hyunjin by the entrance of your building again, this time getting off a taxi, probably from his parent’s place given the two coolers of frozen meat and kimchi he was taking juggling in his hands that always signifies that his mom bought food for everyone in Hyunjin’s apartment. When the taxi drives away and you manage to walk faster to get to him, he greets you with a grin, “Hey, Y/N.”

You nod and wave hello. “Back from your parents’ place?”

“Yeah, I delivered flowers.” His smile grows wider. “My mom liked them, especially.”

“Oh, that’s good to know.” You return his smile. “Do you need help?”

But he shakes his head at your offer. “No, I’m good. Come on, I have something for you.”

You look at him suspiciously as you open the building entrance for him but decided on humoring him and agreeing, “Sure.”

You climb up the stairs in almost complete silence. You ask him briefly about his short trip to the other side of the city and he tells you about how Kkami has been since you last saw the dog. You almost missed how he answers rather curtly and nervously, as if he’s hiding something.

“Oh, right, wait here!” He suddenly stops you from proceeding to your apartment when you arrive on the 4th floor, sprinting to his before you could even utter a word.

You stand alone in the hallway for a short while, until Hyunjin re-emerges from his apartment with a medium-sized pot in his hands. “Ta-da!” He holds it up to your eye-level for you to clearly see the label written in his careful handwriting, lily bulbs. “You said you didn’t want the flowers but you didn’t say that you didn’t want bulbs.”

“Hyunjin—” He thrusts the plant pot in your hands happily, a little proud that he’s got you flustered again.

“I just want to say thank you for helping me grow my garden this past month.” He insists before quietly adding, “And Chan may or may not also have mentioned that it’s more romantic if I gave you something to grow yourself rather than give you a flower right away since you’re the plant expert.”

“Huh? Romantic?” You can’t help but smile at the choice of word.

“Y-Yeah.” He agrees with a small nod. Now he’s equally flustered, even more when he unintentionally blurts out next, “Maybe by the time they grow their own bulbs to plant, we’re already on our 100th day.”

At that, you finally break into laughter, making Hyunjin laugh as well, albeit more nervously. “What? What 100th day?” You visibly cringe in front of him but with good intentions.

“I’m trying my best here!”

“Are you perhaps asking me out?” Surprisingly, he nods slowly in yes, momentarily stunning you.

A beat of silence passes by that Hyunjin starts preparing himself to pass your conversation off as a joke.

“Listen—” But before he could even get another word out, you beat him to it.

“Okay, I’ll take it—cheesy line and all.” You interject, taking a step back to your apartment. “Let me just go get you something in exchange.”

“You don’t have to.” But you ignore him, proceeding by saying, “No, I insist! Meet me at the back.”

When he does meet you at the back, on his balcony, you pass him one of your leaf cuttings from the fire escape, the one you pointed at him from before except now it’s grown into the smallest flower with barely enough leaves to form 1 ring of leaves resembling petals. “’Maybe when it’s big enough to look like a flower, it’ll already be our 100th day.” You tease him, earning you a ‘yah!’ from him that just makes you laugh harder than a while back. “Just keep it on a pot with lots of rocks and good drainage, spritz it with water every few days, and keep it away from direct sunlight until it grows into a full succulent.”

“I—” “It means yes, Hyunjin, I’ll go out with you.”

“R-really?” His eyes grow big, not really expecting that you’d agree.

“Yeah, just make sure to take care of the leaf cutting I gave you! It’s the prettiest among my plant babies!” For the first time since the two of you crossed paths today, Hyunjin finally lets go of the breath he’s been holding at your words. “And less cheesy lines, please.”

“Okay noted.”

Hyunjin’s leaf cutting starts growing into a proper succulent on day 70 of tending to his mini garden of flowers and herbs. The lily bulb he gave you has already sprouted as well. It’s not your 100th day yet as you predicted then but you’re still going out on dates (with less cheesy lines now) and googling how to propagate more plants.

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oohnoniall · 3 years

Text

The Lantsov Emerald [Kaz Brekker x OC] - Chapter Three (Anastasia)

Warnings: cursing, fantasy violence, family drama

Chapter One

Chapter Two

Her head pounded from the night before. Vasily had been too drunk to stop her from getting into the spirits. Nikolai would have given her small sips from his glass throughout the night. She wouldn't have gotten nearly so messed up had that been the case. He was irresponsible but somehow, he knew what he was doing. At least, that's what Anastasia had been certain of for the majority of her life.

Her head felt as though it were filled with pounding hammers and Nikolai's favorite revolvers. Every bump of her spoon in her porridge bowl made her want to wince. The only reason she wasn't was the fact that both of her parents were at breakfast. It was such a rare occurrence that she knew something was bound to be wrong.

She and Vasily had stayed silent for a majority of the meal. Waiting for their father to say something. Anything. Anastasia thought about screaming in order to cause something to happen.

"The Fjerdan's will be sending an emissary in less than a week," her father's voice was strong, not showing a sign of last night having any effect on him.

Anastasia clutched her spoon slightly tighter.

"I suppose they're anxious to see what our Sun Summoner can do," Vasily drawled, his voice raking against her ears and making her feel sick.

The whole thing made her feel sick. She was being sold like cattle. There was nothing anyone could do to stop it either. Not even Nikolai would have been able to save her from this fate.

"Yes," Pytor nodded his head once. "They'll want to make sure your sister is a proper lady as well."

He spoke as though she was not sitting just on Vasily's left. She understood that she didn't mean nearly as much as either of the princes and yet, it still managed to hurt. She wasn't seen as anything but a hassle. Something he needed to sell off in order to rid Ravka of debt or hopefully bring more peace. Even if his own marriage had done nothing.

She tried to bite down on her anger as she focused on her breakfast. Her head was pounding too hard for her to make up some sort of melody. She was too angry to turn the beating of her heart into one of the waltzes that she adored. Her life was a game and she was not the player. That much was clear.

The side door opened nearly silently. She would not have normally heard it. The hangover had made her far too sensitive to sounds. She doubted that she would ever again drink as much as she had the night before. She had not thought it was a lot. Apparently, Anastasia had no idea how much liquor she could actually hold.

A messenger slipped into the room, rushing toward the long table as quickly as he could. Anastasia straightened in her chair, her eyes following the messenger as he made his way towards the table. Her parents had not noticed him yet. She doubted they would unless the message was for them.

The man made his way over to her. She felt as though he was moving slowly, as though his legs were encased in molasses. It was just her hope for Nikolai's letter that made her want time to move faster. For him to run forward and drop whatever note might be in his hand. She was almost angry at how long it was taking.

"Your Highness," he murmured softly to her, a slight smile gracing his lips. The smile made him look younger, the lines by his eyes seemed to disappear. "A message from your brother."

The letter seemed smaller than others she had received but she would not complain. It held his pale blue double eagle, it held that scent of sea breeze and salt. She thanked the messenger before quickly excusing herself from the meal.

Vasily said nothing, but she noticed how his grip had tightened just slightly on his butter knife. Anastasia would not pretend to know what was wrong with him, but she assumed it was jealousy. She was allowed to leave when she pleased. He wasn't. Crown Prince was a blessing and a curse it seemed.

She hurried to her rooms, nearly running down the corridors. The guards would say nothing. No one would reprimand her for not acting like a lady. Not when most of the other ladies who resided in the Great Palace were nursing hangovers or worrying about what mood the Queen would be in. She was free to run about the castle, chasing the eight-sixteenths rhythm of her heartbeat.

A guard opened the door to her chambers for her, not bothering to smile at her. She nodded her head once at him before she slipped inside.

Her rooms were the smallest of the three siblings. A large four-poster bed set in the middle of the room, a small nightstand beside it of imported cherry wood, and a matching desk on the left side of the room. Her vanity sat at the right, next to her balcony. The large window made the glass and crystals bottles sparkle and created small rainbows in the height of summer. The walls were painted a pale pink color, with Ravkan blue along the borders of the walls. She felt as though she lived in the middle of a summer day.

Anastasia did not bother to note any of her furnishings as she slid into the plush leather chair that sat at her desk. She tore open the letter, using the golden letter opener that Nikolai had given her. He had told her she needed some form of protection in her room.

He wasn't fond of trusting her safety to people he didn't know. They'd only had each other for so long that Nikolai had become a protector as much as he had been a brother. He'd kept her out of trouble while he spent his days getting into it. He kept her away from their parents as much as he could. If only to have her avoid their disappointment.

She hadn't realized how much she had needed him until he was gone.

My dearest Stacie. Her heart ached at the nickname. It had been so long since she had heard it from anyone. She could hear the low timbre of his voice, drawing out the 'sta' and ending it with the soft sound of the 'sea'. She was going to murder Nikolai when he returned. How dare he leave her to miss him.

Ketterdam is dull, the university life is not one for me. Daily, my classmates are tempted by the Barrel and I alone must stop them from giving in to the temptation. Tell mother that at the very least. She worries enough about me being gone, although I'm certain that you're having a rougher go of it. I apologize for my letters being irregular. Life has become a hassle. It seems as though fate wishes for me to suffer greatly. I wonder if I could tempt fate into giving me a break?

Anastasia rolled her eyes. Nikolai was ridiculous in front of most people. She was certain that he was at his absolute worst around her. But that had been what she needed as a child. Someone to protect her, to make her laugh. He'd always been a good big brother. He deserved more credit for it.

Giving you updates on my courtship with fate is sadly not the reason for this letter. I've heard that we have a new Saint in our home. One that summons the sun? Stacie, send word if this is true. I'd love to see the birth of a Saint with my own eyes. I've come to realize it's a remarkable affair.

Of course, that was why he had written to her. The Sun Summoner. She did not blame the girl. Nor did she even blame Nikolai. It just hurt to realize it had not been because he had missed her. Maybe the ache that she felt was not the same to him. They did not have the same bond as the Shu's kebben, but she had always thought they would at least always be together. Until she was sold off.

I'll be home soon. Vasily will have someone else to throw his anger at. We'll speak about your training too. Some of the guards have told me your aim is remarkably horrible. Really, Ana, you would embarrass me like that?

I love you, little sister,

Nikolai Lantsov.

She traced his name with her pointer finger. It had been three years since she had seen her brother. Three years of wondering if he was alright, of hoping that he would come home soon. She hated to admit that she missed him. She hated to admit she was beginning to forget what he looked like. She doubted he'd ever come home. She didn't trust the letters, didn't trust that he would find it within himself to come back.

Anastasia knew how easy it would be to leave Ravka and never return. She dreamed of it sometimes. Though it was not something she'd ever truly do. When she left Ravka, it would be to wed a man that she did not know. A man she didn't want to know.

She wiped her eyes once, the burn of fresh tears blurring her sight, before stuffing the letter into her desk. She wouldn't dare try to write a reply until her hangover had vanished. Until she was certain that she would not embarrass herself by leaving tear stains on the parchment. As far as Nikolai was aware, Anastasia had taken his absence well. She refused to tell him how alone she felt. How it seemed as though she were floating alone, in the middle of an island in the depths of the True Sea. He would have called her dramatic and then pretended that he was the only one who had any right to dramatics.

A knock on her door quickly cleared her of her thoughts while making the pounding in her head worsen. She wouldn't call for a tonic, it would only make things worse in the long run.

"Come in," her voice was soft as she fumbled for a piece of parchment and a pen. Pretending to work on her correspondence would at least give her a reason for sitting aimlessly.

Vasily strolled into her bedroom as though he was already the king of Ravka. She wondered how he could be so self-assured. It wasn't exactly something that she would ask him about. She watched as he perched on her bed, his arms casually crossed across his chest as he stared at her.

"Did our brother have anything interesting to say?" She swore venom was in his tone.

"He's curious about the Sun Summoner," Anastasia stated as she looked up at him. "And he says he'll be home soon."

"He's been telling you that for three years, Annie."

Anastasia glared at him. He knew just how much she hated that name. It made her feel as though she were a child. Someone who was reprimanded easily. "Vasily, I'd rather not talk about what Nikolai plans on doing or when he plans on returning home."

The corner of his lips twitched, as though he were about to smile but had thought better of it. Vasily often hid his smiles, unless it served a purpose. Her brother had been raised to be a man who wore many masks. It was one of the reasons why he liked cards so much. Vasily did not think Anastasia knew about his vice, but she did. She had followed him once.

Nikolai had only been gone three months at that point. She had been bored and lonely. She had seen Vasily sneaking across the grounds as though he had something scandalous to hide. She had thought that it would be worth it to share a secret with him. Maybe then they could become nearly as close as she and Nikolai.

Had it just been a girl, she would have left instantly. But no. Vasily had slipped into a Lordling's home, she had watched him from behind bushes as he played a game of cards in front of the large dining room windows. She had assumed he would go after a game, but she had given up long before he had.

Vasily had lost more money than she had ever dreamed he would that night. He had been red-faced the next morning at breakfast. Anastasia had thought it best not to tell him that she had watched him. She didn't wish to bring more shame to her oldest brother.

She'd allow him to think he kept this secret to himself. Even if she knew that others must be well aware.

"There seems to be an issue with our Sun Summoner," he admitted to her, falling back on her bed. His hands covered his face, she did not ignore how they were as soft and smooth as her own. "Not that anyone save Kirigin knows about it."

"What is it, Vas?" Anastasia hated knowing that he knew more than she did. Even if it was a common occurrence.

"Don't let father find out," it wasn't the pleading tone of a boy. It was the exasperation of a man who was tired of living in shadows. "But our Saint has disappeared. I heard two of Kirigin's men speaking about it on the way to your room. It seems last night's party brought a tracker to our midst."

She instantly thought of the guard she had not known. Nikolai Vanzin. It had felt like a false name that night. He hadn't noticed her at first. Not to mention he looked both too hard to be a guard and far too pretty. None of her father's men had looked as though they could cut a diamond with their stare nor their cheekbones. She left that to the Grisha of the Second Army.

"There was a guard last night," she spoke softly, fingers tapping on her desk as though she was gently tapping the keys of a piano. "I had never seen him before."

"How many of the guards do you know?" Vasily did not look at her as he spoke.

"All of them."

Vasily was not aware of Anastasia's training. Nikolai had told her it was a secret between the two of them and the guards. He had made damn sure those men knew what it would mean to betray their trust. It would mean losing his friendship. Nikolai was definitely the nicest of the royal family when it came to things of that nature. Not even Anastasia would have been that kind.

"You're not doing what I think, are you Annie?" Vasily pushed himself up on his elbows, his eyes boring into her.

"Of course not," she gave him an annoyed glare. "I wouldn't put my marriage at risk like that. I just needed someone to talk to with Nikki gone. He likes being updated on them."

Vasily continued to stare at her, though the look was less annoyed, less ready to pounce if she was doing something she shouldn't. He looked tired. He looked hurt. She did not know why he would be. She had never been close enough to Vasily to be able to tell the reasons behind his moods. She had enough trouble figuring out Nikolai's.

"You could've talked to me," his voice was tense, his knuckles white as he clenched his fists. "I'm your brother too, Annie."

"You've had more pressing matters at hand," she knew the words were not enough. She felt guilty almost. Had he been just as lonely as she and Nikolai? Had he craved a companion? He had been raised to be the King of Ravka since they were children. While she and Nikolai were running about the grounds with wooden swords, he was trapped in meetings that he did not care about.

She felt as though she should have noticed. Should have tried to bring him in on their games. Nikolai had always wanted Vasily's attention as a child. She had thought one brother was enough. Anastasia could not help but to blame herself for whatever he had gone through. She knew she wasn't at fault but that did not assuage her guilt.

"That doesn't matter," Vasily moved to stand then, wiping his palms on his pants. "Tell me about this guard you didn't know."

"He said his name was Nikolai Vanzin," she was glad for the change in topic. "He had these eyes that were like diamonds. They could kill you if he looked at you too long. Beautiful really."

She felt the flush on her cheeks before she noted the look in Vasily's eye. She couldn't tell if he was amused or if he was pissed about her description of the man. It didn't matter. She had to press on.

"Sharp features, it was very noticeable. His accent though ... It was strange. He spoke Ravkan as though he wasn't quite used to it. But I couldn't place the accent. It wasn't rough enough for Fjerda, he didn't have the complexion for Fjerda either. I don't think he was from Ravka at the very least."

"Is there anything beyond pretty eyes and a pretty face, Annie?" His eyebrow rose, watching her closely enough to cause her to grow somewhat embarrassed. She didn't know why. It wasn't like he hadn't had his own dalliances.

"I think he'd been injured at some point in time," she said, thinking back to the guard that had so amused her the night before. She wondered if he had thought of her at all that morning. Considering he was probably on the run with their Sun Summoner by now, she highly doubted it. "He walked with a limp. Otherwise, he was perfectly normal. I just ... I had assumed he'd been hired before the fete."

"I would have been told if there had been any additional security hired," he almost spat out the words. She could see that there was something brewing in his mind. A plan taking form.

She highly doubted it would be anything good.

"Did you make any sort of connection with this man?" Vasily asked as he began to pace the room. "Did he say where he was going or what he was doing there?"

"No," she sighed as she shook her head. "Vasily, I spoke with him for about two minutes before the presentation. I got his name, that was it. He said his mother thought he'd had luck being named after a prince."

"Probably a lie." Vasily stared at the same spot on the floor as he paced. She worried he would create a rut in her rug.

"I'm sure of it," she worried her lip as she began to think. Straining her memory for anything that might help. "I told him I would see him today. You could check in on the training field. Ask if anyone's seen him?"

Vasily nodded his head once as he began to leave her bedroom, his head once again up and his focus back on the world around him. He paused in her doorway, his left hand resting on the oak wood of her door frame. He lightly tapped the wood with his index finger, hesitating for a moment before turning his head to look at her.

"Stay here," he told her, his eyes searching her face. "I ... I don't want to see you getting hurt. I don't trust anything that's going on here."

It was the most brotherly he had ever seemed in her entire life. Her heart wanted to sing a ballad of sorrow at the lateness of it. She knew that nothing he said or did would stop her. Nikolai Vanzin had lied to her. He had given her a false story and had a false narrative. He could have been stopped that night. She could have been the one to stop him.

She'd been blinded by pretty eyes. A dangerous smile. She wouldn't let that happen ever again. She would find Nikolai Vanzin and discover the truth. She was unsure how she would end up finding him. She couldn't exactly use the resources at hand without alerting her brother or her parents. She had to have permission to leave the Grand Palace. She was too precious a commodity to let leave without a guard. But she would find a way.

If Nikolai had taught her one thing it was to be resourceful. She knew that finding things out would be difficult while trapped in the walls of the Grand Palace but she also knew that she had access to certain documents. She could at least find out how false the name was. How many laws this asshole had broken.

She buried down these thoughts, buried down and locked behind iron bars that would only open upon her soul singing a soft melody. Or if Nikolai showed up and just looked at her once. She had a very hard time not telling her brother anything. At least with Vasily, it was easier for her to lie.

Anastasia looked him in the eye, the portrait of a serene young woman. "I'll stay right here, Vasily," she gave him a gentle smile. "I promise."

#Kaz Brekker #kaz x oc #kaz steals an emerald #kaz brekker x oc #kaz x princess #anastasia lantsov #ana x kaz #nikolai lantsov #lantsov emerald #Vasily Lantsov #i ship them so much #mobster x princess #nikolai sister oc #are they soulmates or are they both just depressed

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bitter-sweet-farmgirl · 4 years

Text

Once I Was Blind, Now I See

Originally requested on my Wattpad (BitterSweetFarmgirl)

Boromir watches his lifelong friend and secret crush struggle through a rough breakup with the man whom OC had assumed would be the one she would marry. Eventually, OC falls for Boromir.

MASTERLIST

OC(s) Used: Dayle

Word Count: 2,042

Translation(s): None

~~~

When I strolled down to the river like I normally did every day when the sun rose high in the sky, I never expected to find a young woman weeping beside the banks. Particularly since the young woman was my friend.

Seeing the beautiful, red-haired woman dressed in emerald kneeling beside the lapping water, I quickened my pace, hurrying to crouch beside her on the soft riverbank so I could peer at her face.

"Dayle? What's wrong?" I asked softly, grey eyes scanning her tear-stained cheeks and reddened cognac eyes.

She took a deep shuddering breath, turning her gaze from the meandering blue river to look at me, bottom lip trembling perilously.

"Corwin broke our betrothal... He said that there was someone else he loved instead of me." She choked out, and I felt a great dragon of anger rise within me. How dare that man do this to Dayle.

I swallowed hard, biting my bottom lip in an attempt to keep control of my temper. Before I could go and beat up that low-down, skulking orc, I had to console Dayle. The woman that I had loved from afar for years as she fell in love with Corwin. But before I could begin speaking, Dayle began to ramble, her eyes glazing over as she stared out over the horizon.

"I mean, I didn't really love him anymore either, but we've been together for so long, anything else just feels weird. I basically planned my life around him, Boromir. I can't see a future without him in it." She murmured, letting out a long sigh.

I stretched out a hesitant arm, gently resting a hand against her back and rubbing up and down comfortingly. I knew how she felt; not that I could ever say it aloud to her. What she had described was similar to how I felt about her. We had been friends for almost as long as I could remember, and I had loved her for just as long. Unconsciously, I had planned my life around her.

Even when she and Corwin had begun courting, I still dreamed of Dayle in a house I had built with my own two hands, a baby--my baby--balanced on her hip as she smiled at me.

"Boromir?" Dayle's soft voice woke me from my thoughts, and I glanced over at her. "Whatever you're planning on doing to Corwin, please don't. He's a good man." She whispered quietly, and I smiled halfheartedly.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Daya." I grinned, settling myself more comfortably beside her.

"Of course you don't, Boromir." She said, scooting closer to my side and laying her head on my shoulder like it was a natural thing for her to do. But it wasn't, and the very action had my heart pounding out of control.

Taking a deep breath, I laid my head on top of hers, marveling in the tantalizing smell of her. It was like wildflowers and a warm summer day all mixed into one. In that moment, it took all my self control not to press a lingering kiss to her soft auburn hair.

But I wanted to, badly. I would just have to be patient; there was still time.

~~~~

A few weeks later...

I reined in my horse, dismounting quickly and leading the lathered bay gelding over to a stable boy. "Give him a good rubdown, he's had a hard ride." I said and the lad nodded, reaching up to gently stroke the velvety nose of my panting horse.

Smiling at the sight, I turned and walked towards the palace.

As I walked along the familiar path, my thoughts began to wander. The first image that appeared in my mind was one of Dayle. It had been a few weeks since she and Corwin had gone their separate ways, but she struggled to adjust to her new normal. As her friend, I should have felt pity for her, or perhaps anger, but all I felt was an overwhelming joy.

I might finally have an opportunity to win this gorgeous, auburn-haired woman's heart. Of course, I did feel anger, just only towards Corwin. But yet, I felt as though Corwin had done me a great favour in moving on from Dayle. All these feelings and emotions were confusing and troublesome to sort through, making me feel as though I was drowning at times.

All of a sudden, I was brought back to earth as something crashed into me. Instinctively, I held on to whatever had collided with me, stumbling back as I tried not to fall over. "Hey, watch where--" I stopped, recognizing Dayle. "Dayle, are you alright?" I asked, brow furrowing as I took in her downcast gaze.

"I saw him with her." She said, clenching and unclenching her fists. "The woman that stole his heart away from me."

My head snapped up, searching the bustling marketplace for the head of dark hair I grown used to seeing beside Dayle's. But there were too many people; too many shades of hair for me to pinpoint just one.

Returning my attention to Dayle, my eyes became riveted to her oh-so-tempting ruby lips as they began to tremble. Forcing my gaze upward, I locked eyes with her. "Daya, you're better than him. It's his loss, not yours. Don't think about him anymore." I commanded, my voice hardening.

Dayle nodded, blinking rapidly to force back the tears welling in her eyes. "You're right, Boromir." She murmured, but her face didn't lose its downtrodden look.

"How about you spend the night in the palace? To try and get your mind off Corwin?" I suggested, and Dayle nodded again, looking down at the ground.

Holding back a sigh of frustration, I began to walk forward, assuming she would follow. But a quick glance backwards told me that she wasn't.

Dayle still stood in the middle of the street, shoulders trembling as she tried to hold back the sobs building within her. Sadness welled within me at the sight, and I hurried back to her, gathering her up within my arms while being careful not to hold her too close. "Oh, Dayle..." I whispered quietly, resisting the urge to bury my face in her hair and hold her tighter. "Come on, let's get away from all the people."

Pressing a gentle hand to the small of her back, I led her towards the palace, only stopping once we were behind the gates and away from prying eyes that might make assumptions. Then I took Dayle back in my arms, gently rubbing her back.

She drew closer to me, burrowing her face into the crook of my neck and making me tense at the sensation of her skin on mine. "I don't understand why it still hurts..." She sobbed, hands tightly fisting my shirt while tears fell from her porcelain cheeks onto the fabric and made dark splotches.

I let out a soft sigh, tightening my grip around her. "You were with him for a long time, Daya... Feelings don't fade away overnight, I know that well. It just takes some time." I murmured into her hair, taking in deep lungfuls of that intoxicating scent I knew as her.

~~~~

A few months later...

I stood out on the long balcony of the palace, staring up at the Tree of Gondor as I pondered a matter that had been bothering me.

Not long after Dayle's breakdown in my arms, she had become uncharacteristically shy around me, taking care not to look me in the eyes while she mumbled incoherent words as she brushed by me. I had decided long ago that women were strange creatures, and this only reaffirmed that belief.

But that wasn't the only thing I had been thinking about lately. I had started to consider telling Dayle that I loved her. But the matter was still so anxiety-inducing with all the what-ifs surrounding it, that I didn't even want to think about it; even as it consumed my thoughts constantly.

Turning away from the tree, I shook my head in defeat. The answers I sought were not ones I could get just by thinking. They would only be obtained by conversing with the very woman that was avoiding me.

"Boromir!" A gentle, feminine voice called, and I looked up from the white stones to look into familiar cognac orbs.

"Dayle." I said, surprised to see that she was standing before me. "What are you doing here?"

She shrugged, smiling shyly; her gaze dropping to the floor like it always did now when she was around me. "I just wanted to see you." She said, and I couldn't help smiling at her words.

"Okay, do you want to walk around the gardens? I know the roses have started to bloom..." I suggested, and her eyes instantly lit up.

"Yes! I want to see the roses!" She exclaimed, and I laughed at her enthusiasm. This could be my chance to ask her the questions reverberating within my mind.

But they all disappeared, only to be replaced with butterflies in my stomach as she snatched my hand to tug me along faster. "Why are you in such a hurry, woman? The roses will still be blooming when we get there, there's no need to run." I stuttered, trying not to focus too much on the feeling of her hand tightly clasping mine.

Dayle just laughed, glancing back at me. The sound of her laughter was a welcome one to my ears. Her laughter had been scarce for too long. "Boromir.... You silly goose! Why walk when we can run, right?" She giggled, and I was reminded of a day far in the past where I had said that very thing to her as a child when she was being too slow.

I couldn't help the laugh that bubbled up at her words and shook my head as I picked up my pace. "I can't argue with that logic."

We quickly reached the part of the garden where the roses grew and Dayle finally slowed to a walk, mesmerized by the beauty of the crimson flowers. "I think they are more beautiful than I

have ever seen them..." She whispered, dropping my hand as she gently caressing the scarlet petals of one with a finger.

"Not as beautiful as you though, Daya." I murmured, and Dayle glanced over her shoulder at me, her expression inscrutable.

"Do you mean that as a friend, or as something else?" She asked quietly, turning so that she faced me.

I stared at her silently, a thousand thoughts running through my head. Now would be the perfect time to tell her, but what if it ruined our friendship? I couldn't do anything that would ruin it.

But where was the man my father had raised me to be? The man that was unafraid of anything; even if it meant his life would change drastically.

Gathering my courage, I took a deep breath. "As something else." I murmured, watching her face closely.

A small smile tugged at the corner of her rosebud lips and my gaze flickered towards them. "I'm sorry that I have been so blind, Boromir... But now my eyes have been opened, and I see what's standing right in front of me." She whispered softly, walking towards me.

I thought I knew the meaning behind her words, but I wasn't quite sure. "What do you see standing in front of you?" I asked breathlessly as she drew closer.

Stopping right in front of me, Dayle smiled up at me, her hands coming up to frame my face as she began to close the distance between us. "You, Boromir. You."

Seconds after her whispered words met the air, her lips met mine in a hesitant, gentle union. I hungrily returned the embrace, a hand winding around her waist to draw her closer to me as I set the other on the back of her head; fingers tangling in her long auburn locks.

This was the only answer I needed to my questions. Finally, they were laid to rest as everything became clear to me. I loved her and she loved me and that was all we needed.

#Boromir x oc #boromir #lotr #the fellowship #gondor #fluff #angst #sadness #breakup #boromir gets the girl #fanfic #fanfiction

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scripts4dreamers · 4 years

Text

Invisible String

AN: Just some fluffy goodness because love fucking rocks. Characters: Lex Miller Pairing(s): Lex x reader Spoiler(s): none

Warning(s): None

Prompt: “hey! how are you? have you any plans for the end of summer? recently i've been feeling a bit down, idk why, maybe because i'm going to school soon :/ anyways, could i request some realyyy fluffy domestic shit w Lex? thank you! i hope you have a lovely day!” for @uhohscarlett

Inspiration: Invisible String by Taylor Swift

-----------------------

By the time you wake up, the sun is already high, peeking through the thin white curtains of your room and soaking into your skin. You sigh, still in that comfortable space between awake and asleep, and turn your head to face Lex. He looks younger when he’s sleeping, you noticed fondly, his chest rising and falling steadily beneath your head. His skin had taken on some colour over the past few weeks, and the spray of freckles across his face were more noticeable than ever. It had become your personal mission to count them all but, unfortunately, Lex seemed to be allergic to staying still long enough for you to get a solid count done. He muttered something in his sleep, a string of meaningless syllables that could have been your name, and you felt your heart swell with love.

Slowly, doing your best to detangle yourself from Lex without disturbing him, you crept out of bed, throwing a silky robe over your pajamas and padding through the apartment to the kitchen. It was a beautiful place, one of your family’s many overseas properties, tucked away in the artist’s sector of Bergamo, Italy. It had been a nightmare convincing Lex to let you bring him but, once you’d stepped off that plane and landed on italian soil, it had been paradise. You hummed to yourself as you flitted about the kitchen making fresh coffee. You never really drank coffee at King’s, they only had the instant stuff that made your tastebuds scream but here, on holiday, it had become a part of your routine. The sunlight streamed in through the windows, bathing the apartment in golden light and illuminating the hastily discarded clothes strewn across the floor from the night before. It was cozy, and safe, and you kind of loved it there, especially when you felt two arms wrap gently around your waist and pull you flush against Lex’s bare chest.

“Morning, you,” you giggled as he buried his head in the crook of your neck and squeezed you tight.

“Good morning, darling,” he replied, his voice still thick with sleep, “why didn’t you wake me up? I could’ve helped.”

You shrugged, pouring a cup of coffee and turning to face him, leaning against the counter. He always looked so soft and vulnerable in the morning, before his hair was gelled up, when all he had on was a pair of sweatpants and he clung to any affection you gave him like an octopus. It was a side of himself that he only ever let you see and you’d die before you betrayed the trust he’d put in you.

“You hate coffee,” you reminded him teasingly as you took a sip, “last time you tried to make it you almost broke the filter.”

Lex flushed and rolled his eyes, “That’s hardly my fault, love, it’s a confusing contraption.”

“It’s literally not,” you laughed, “there’s nothing simpler than filter coffee, nothing.”

“There’s instant.”

You shook your head, “Instant coffee isn’t coffee, it’s coffee flavoured water, we’ve been over this.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” Lex conceded, leaning in to press a gentle kiss to your lips, “lucky for me, seeing you every morning is all the boost I need to get me through the day.”

You rolled your eyes, trying and failing to hide how happy you were, which earned a fond chuckle from Lex. He was disgustingly romantic, really. He had been since the moment you’d met but, for some reason, being in Italy with you seemed to crank it up to the max. Every day it was something new; buying you flowers at the market, leaving little love notes all over the house, cooking for you when you were too tired, running hot baths, anything he could do to show his love, Lex was doing. You’d have been lying if you said you weren’t enjoying it.

His dark eyes were sparkling with fondness as you watched him, sipping your coffee in silence as he bustled about the kitchen, whipping himself up a cup of tea.

“See something you like, darling?” he teased, sending a cheeky wink your way, “Cause you know everything here’s available for purchase.”

“Oh you know I do,” you teased back, “and, if last night is anything to go by, I’d say you’re pretty close to priceless.”

He chuckled. His back was to you as he stirred in a spoon of sugar but that didn’t stop you from seeing the flush that crept up his neck and shoulders at your compliment. Even after all the time you’d spent together, it was still so easy to get Lex flustered. You stepped forward, pressing a kiss to the space between his shoulder blades, and he hummed contentedly in response as you breezed by him, getting everything ready for your breakfast.

Once Lex’s tea was brewed, he linked his fingers with yours and helped you cart the bread, cheeses and fruits out onto the little balcony which overlooked the street, placing everything gently on the small table that sat out there in the summer. It was still early enough that the sun wasn’t punishing yet, just warm and golden, and you sat, sipping your drinks, and watching the neighbourhood come to live around you. As always, Lex kept one hand on your thigh at all times, tilting his head back and letting his eyes drift shut as he soaked in the sun. He looked like a cat, stretching out and getting comfortable in the warmth, safe in the knowledge that there was nothing to do except talk and enjoy one another’s company.

It was such a change from King’s.

Lex opened his eyes, sensing the subtle shift in your mood and shooting you a questioning glance.

“You alright, Y/N/N?” he asked.

You smiled, resting your hand on top of his on your thigh and giving it a gentle squeeze, “Of course, love. I just-” you sighed, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t want to go back,” Lex said, with a knowing glint in his eye.

You nodded, “It’s just so peaceful here. Everything feels so...right.”

He smiled, “That’s ‘cause of us though. It doesn’t matter where we are , darling, so long as we’re together, we’re golden.”

“But-”

“No buts,” Lex laughed, turning his chair to face you and taking one of your hands in both of his, “look, I know I’ve been a right sap this summer, and you’re probably getting sick of hearing me say this stuff but, I love you, Y/N. More than I thought possible. Being back at King’s won’t change that.”

“Won’t it?” you asked, your voice small.

Lex leaned forward, cupping your face with his hand and running his thumb over the soft skin of your cheek.

“Not even if we tried.”

You smiled, feeling another rush of love and, on impulse, launched yourself into his arms. Lex laughed like a kid on Christmas and wrapped his arms around you, pulling you onto his lap as you wound your arms around his neck. It was comforting and safe and familiar and, as you breathed in his earthy scent, of tea leaves and soap, you felt the little knot of tension in your chest dissolve. You rested your head on Lex’s shoulder, letting his arms sliding up and down your thigh soothe you as the noises of the day started to filter in from the nearby market. You thought about the dinner you might cook, and what sort of spices went best with eggplant, as an overpowering sense of belonging started to settle into your bones. It was heavy and thick, but in a sort of nice way, like it was anchoring you instead of weighing you down and, for the first time, you let yourself picture the rest of your life with Lex.

At a place like King’s, the rest of your life was a shaky promise to make, even to yourself but, there, on that balcony, you wanted to make it. You wanted a life with Lex, a real one and, as he pressed a kiss to the top of your head, you let it sink in that that might’ve been what he wanted too. You wanted to say something, something to signify the way you were feeling, but everything seemed too cliche, too sickly sweet for you and Lex, who had always been a little on the gritty side.

“Promise me we’ll come back here?” you eventually asked, “One day, once we’ve graduated and started our lives.”

Perfect. It wasn’t much but it was something. It said that you wanted to still be together in a few years' time, that you wanted to build your future with him, no matter what that meant. It wasn’t nearly enough, but it was something.

Lex was silent for a moment, hooking his finger under your chin and guiding your face up to his.

“You sure that’s what you want?” He asked.

You nodded, feeling the heat rush to your face at the way he was looking at you.

His answering smile was gentle, but radiant, filling you up with love and tenderness so intense that you had to smile back.

“Then of course we will, darling,” he said, “I promise.”

#jordsie #jordsie writes #deadly class #deadly class syfy #deadly class aesthetic #deadly class imagine #deadly class fanfiction #lex miller #lex miller x reader #lex miller x you #lex miller imagine #lex miller fanfiction #lex miller fluff

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angelliev · 4 years

Text

Lover Boy - JJ Maybank x OC - Part Three - Rocking with the Waves

Word Count: 3K

Summary: Aria just can’t get enough of JJ and his affection, making him absolutely irresistible and a familiar face arrives in the Outer Banks, along with suspicion from her father.

Warnings: Smut, some cursing, hopefully no typos and unsafe driving?

A/N: Words can’t even describe the joy and happiness I am experiencing from the amount of people who have read my writing. Thank you so much guys! I sincerely appreciate it. I hope you enjoy! (Not my GIF. Credits to the owner. I don’t own the show or the characters.)

Lover Boy Series Masterlist

Birds sing their little toons outside, the warm morning air kisses my skin and the sun beams down on my face through the windows. These are typical mornings I wake up to. Except in my own bed. By myself. Instead I wake up to the sound of a beating heart and my head laying on a naked chest that continues to rise and fall. I glance up to see JJ still asleep, his handsome face so calm without a worry in the world. I couldn’t help but lay a kiss on his warm cheek causing him to stir. For a while I just lay there drawing shapes on his chest. This causes his eyes to flutter open. He smiles down on me.

“Rise and shine lover boy.” I crawl on top of his naked boy under the sheets. “Oh, something’s rising alright.” He smirks. I lightly smack his shoulder. I have to admit though, his raspy morning voice is quite the turn on. “It’s not even noon Jay.”

“I take it that’s a no, on morning sex? It would be a real good way to start off the day.” His hands start to play with my bed hair. I simply giggle at him.

“How do you feel?” He asked genuinely concerned. “Different. Like a good different. It hurt a little at first, then it began to feel really good.” I never knew just how close you can become with someone. “Want me to me make you feel really good again?” His question laced with lust. “God, yes please.” “Good girl. Now lay back and enjoy the show.” He smirks before laying a kiss on my lips and kissing a trail down my body, taking his time. The anticipation begins to start a pool of wetness to form down below, especially when he starts kissing and nipping at the peach soft skin of my inner thighs, littering them with more love bites. When he finally reaches the region that requires the most attention, he glances up at me, holding eye contact and places my legs over his shoulders. My feet rest on his slender soft back.

“So wet for me. We’re you dreaming of me perhaps? Did I treat you so good last night?” His breath fans my pussy and he plants a kiss there, causing me to squirm. “Tell me babygirl, what do you want me to do? I need words.” His teasing look becoming too much. “Please, I want you to taste me. Make me feel good. Please baby.” I practically beg. He licks a stripe up my folds making me gasp, never taking his eyes off my pleasure filled face. My petite finger comb through his hair gripping hard, while his lengthy ones enter my core curling in. His lips attach to my sensitive clit, making me moan. He hums out of satisfaction as I continue to tug on his luxurious hair. His free hand comes up to grope my left breast. His fingers began to pick up speed as they thrust in and out of me.

“JJ, I’m so close.” I breathe out, my feet start to dig into his back and hips begin to buck. He grabs a hold of my hips stabilizing me. The familiar euphoric sensation washes over me as I reach my orgasm, making my toes curl and my back arch off the bed. My juices coat his fingers. He brings the glistening digits up to his lips, licking them clean along with my dripping hot core. I can taste myself on his intoxicating lips when kisses me so passionately. He’s so addictive like nicotine. I simply can’t get enough of him.

“You taste so good babygirl. Did you know that?” I giggle at the closeness and his hot breath fanning my neck before attacking it with soft kisses as I hold him close to me. We lay there enjoying each other’s presence in the morning sunlight. Unfortunately, our moment is interrupted by the ringing of my phone. On the screen I see Charis’s number.

“Hello?” I answer. “Hey where are you? Your parents called to ask if you were with me. Don’t worry I covered for you, said you crashed at my place, but they want you back home like asap. Just tell me where you are.” Shit. I didn’t even think about that. “Shit, I’m at John B’s chateau.” “What are you doing there?” She asked confused. “I’ll explain everything when you get here. See you soon.” I hang up and sigh. JJ looks up at me.

“I’m sorry, but my parents want me home.” He just smiles at me. “No worries babe.” He grabs my phone and punches in my number. “When will I see you again?” I asked hopeful. “Soon. I’ll take you out somewhere fun. Ever been surfing?” I shake my head yes. “A girl after my own heart, this should be fun, after all I’m the best surfer in the OBX.” I chuckle at his cocky attitude. “I have a question for you Jay.” “Mm?” I was a little hesitant at first to ask this question. “What does this make us?” I nervously bite my lip. “What do you want this to be?” He asked while playing with my hair. “Something more than just sex. I really like you JJ. I want to be close to you all time. I want to be intimate.” I confess hoping I don’t sound clingy. “I like the sound of that. Let’s give this a shot and see where it leads us.” “Do you think we’re going too fast?” “Nah, plus I like going fast.” He places one last kiss on my lips before we both gather our clothes.

Stepping out onto the porch, I see Charis’s car. I turn back to JJ who didn’t even bother to put on a shirt. “I’ll stay in touch that way we can hang out again.” My fingers play with his. “Sounds good.” He uses his black bandana to tie up my hair in a ponytail, making the butterflies in my stomach erupt. I loved the fact that he willingly let me have one of his belongings. I place a kiss on his cheek. Before I could turn away, he grabs my waist planting one last passionate kiss on my lips. My arms wrap around his neck, pulling us closer. Our noses touch even after pulling away. “I’ve got to go. I’ll see you soon.” I peck his lips. “See you soon beautiful.” He finally lets me go; I turn back to steal one more glance before opening the door. He sends me a wink, making me chuckle and blow a kiss.

I can feel Charis’s burning gaze on me as I situate myself. “Oh. My. Fucking. God. What the fuck just went down?” She doesn’t even take the parking brake off before hammering me for details. “I may have spent the night with JJ.” I can feel the heat radiating from my blushing cheeks. “Wait, did you lose your V card?” She asked astonished. It just hit me that I was no longer a virgin and I just lost my virginity to JJ. Not being able to process words I just smile and nod yes. This sets her off. “Holy fucking sweet baby Jesus shit! You had sex with JJ Maybank! Holy shit! About time you got dirty in the sheets!” She hugs me tight. I’ve been the virgin of the group for a while now. Charis lost hers freshman year, while Sarah lost hers last summer. “Oh my god can we go before my parents lose their shit? My dad is already pissed at me.” I plead. “Right sorry, I’m just still trying to process this. When did this start between you guys?” “It started since we first met.” “So, are you guys just hooking up or are you dating?” “We’re kind of taking things slow.” This makes her laugh. “Bitch please, you skipped slow and went straight to speeding.” “What I mean by slow is that we’re still getting to know each other.” “Oh, I think you guys got to know each other a lot.” She laughs and continues to drive. “I need you to promise though that you won’t tell anyone about us. I really like him and my dad would lose his shit if he knew about us.” I plead. “Don’t worry. Your secret is safe with me splinter bean.”

After showering, changing and covering many hickeys, I come downstairs and walk outside to the balcony to find my family and a familiar face. “Damian?” I asked surprised. “Hello Aria. Nice of you to finally join us.” He lifts up a glass. Damian Prescott. He’s my older brother. We get along a lot more than Jennifer and I do thankfully. He’s not around much though. He lives in Las Vegas. He works business with my dad. Standing next to him is a woman about his age.

“Hey, I didn’t know you were coming out here.” I give him a welcoming hug. “Thought I surprise you. I’d like to introduce you to my fiancée, Rebecca.” What?! “Fiancée?! You’re getting married?” This all came as a shock to me. He’s kind of womanizer, so for him to be engaged all of the sudden definitely surprised me. “Yes. We just bought a house here in figure eight and are planning on having our wedding here. Rebecca here is an international model and fashion designer.” “That’s impressive. Congratulations. I’m really happy for you guys, and it’s a pleasure to meet you Rebecca.” I hug her. “Likewise, darling.” I am still trying to process the surprising news.

“Where have you been Aria?” My father asked out of the blue. He stares me down with interrogating eyes. I sometimes wonder if he and Ingrid are long lost twins with their helicoptering tendencies. “I spent the night at Charis’s.” I say as calm and convincing as possible. Last thing I want to do is have him find out about who I was actually with. “Nice bandana. Where did you get it?” Asked my nosey Jennifer. “I found it earlier this week on the beach.” For the rest of evening I had to deal with peering eyes, but I didn’t let that bother me, instead I began daydreaming about seeing JJ again.

Next Day…

Today is a perfect day to go surfing. There’s not a cloud in sight, parents or Jennifer. Only me, my surfboard and soon JJ. Not a single soul stops me from leaving the house and jumping into JJ’s muscular arms kissing him long and hard. “Why hello there. I missed you too babe. You ready to go?” I nod my head excitedly. I couldn’t help but gaze at him while he was driving the van. His eyes were so focused on the road, yet he still kept his warm hand on my bare thigh. The wind blows past his hair as he drives. He seems so carefree.

“See something you like?” I blush embarrassed that he caught me staring. “Sorry. You’re just so beautiful.” I have no shame as I continue to admire his attractive features. “Awe, aren’t you sweet? C’mere.” He pulls me into his lap as he comes to halt due to a stoplight, my legs lay across the middle console. “Is this safe?” I ask, but not really caring. “Probably not.” He closes the gap between us to keep me quiet and I had no urge to protest. The annoyed drivers behind us say otherwise as they honk at us. We both laugh as continues to drive.

I then noticed a fully healed scar on the back of his hand. I trace over it hoping that it would just disappear. It saddened me to see a scar had littered his beautiful skin. “What happened?” I asked curious. “Oh, probably just a cut from something I accidentally did.” He lied brushing it off like it was nothing. His eyes said otherwise, but I didn’t want to push it.

We walk down beach surfboards in hand ready to have some fun. The warm water hitting our feet and soon engulfing our bodies. The two of us let out cheers as we successfully ride out some waves. He wasn’t kidding when he told me that he was a very talented surfer. It was heartwarming to see him in his happy place. Neither of us keep track of the time. We didn’t notice the day passing by as the sun was about to set. It was then when we decided it was time to leave the water and dry off. This time I catch him staring. “See something you like?” I tease about to tie up my hair, but he stops me. “Don’t, I like it down.” He says taking the hair tie away. He places a slow and passionate kiss on my lips making me smile and pull him closer. One thing led to another, now we’re laying down on the beach blanket having a heated make out session.

I was thankful that we were both wearing swimwear as I began tugging at his swim trunks. He pulls away surprised. “You sure?” “Positive. I want you to take me right now.” My encouragement only seems to excite him even more as he removes my bottoms and covers the two of us with an extra blanket. He strokes my slit with his tip teasing me. “You want this babygirl? Want me to fuck you out in the open?” His dirty talking turns me on even more, making me desperate. “God yes please. Make me yours.” That’s all he needed before plunging in so deep. His hand clamps over my mouth to contain my loud moans. “As much as I love to hear you moan my name with that pretty voice, we don’t want to get caught.”

His thrusts were a lot different from last time. These were faster, deeper and harder, which only increased the pleasure. His grunts were a little louder too. A bead of sweat began to form on his forehead and a little bit of his damp hair fell over his face as he continued to thrust into me. JJ and the colorful sky were both so gorgeous, a sight I could get used to. He spreads my legs further apart and grabs my hips creating a deeper angle, now hitting the spot that craves the most attention, making me moan loudly, neither of us giving a damn. “You like that babygirl?” He pants through moans.

“JJ!” I scream and my vision goes white as I tighten around him, milking his hard cock, making him throw his head back. He joins me shortly after, his hot cum spewing inside of me, riding out his high. The two of us stay there for a moment catching our breaths. “JJ, that was amazing.” I say dazed. This earns me a breathy chuckle from him “You can say that again. God damn you’re so tight around me babe.” We both laugh together.

We both enjoyed the peaceful silence in the van on the way back home, the two of us feeling spent. I was disappointed when we pulled up to my house. “I had a lot of fun today JJ. That was one hell of a first date.” He looks back at me. “I’m glad you had fun. I’m looking forward to seeing you again.” “Me too. See you later.” I kiss lips before exiting the van and grabbing my surfboard. I blow him a kiss and he returns it with his infamous wink that makes me weak in the knees. I place my surfboard in the closest, and grab a bowl of strawberries to snack on. Before I could go upstairs, I am stopped by my mom.

“Hey sweetheart, I didn’t hear you come through the door.” She greets me with a smile. “Oh, I just got back.” “I never seen you wear that sweatshirt. Is it new or something?” She’s referring to JJ’s Fast Arch gray sweatshirt that he lent to me when he noticed I was cold earlier.

“Oh this? It’s not mine. My friend let me borrow it because I was cold.” This is officially my new favorite shirt. It smells just like him. Weed, mint and the ocean. I still feel engulfed by him as I wear it. “That’s nice of them. What did you guys do today?” Oh, if only she knew. “We went surfing.” I only told her half the truth. “That sounds like fun. Did you use sunblock? Do you need aloe gel? You’ve been drinking plenty of water, right?” I chuckle at her. The only time she asks me a billion questions is when it’s over my health. “Yes, mom I used sunblock and drank lots of water.” I reassure her. “Okay, well take this with you anyways.” She hands me a bottle of water. I laugh. When is she not carrying water? I swear if she were to be charged for anything, it would be possession of too much damn water. “Thank you, mommy. Goodnight.” I kiss her forehead. “Goodnight love.”

I pass by my sister when she got a whiff of my new scent. “God, did you and your so-called friend get stoned while you were at the beach?” Jennifer criticizes. “No, and eavesdropping is really rude. You should get a new hobby.” She rolls her eyes. “So, who did you go to the beach with?” She asked. “Who I hang out with is none of your business. Goodnight.” I slam the door shut with a huff and let the events of earlier replay in my head. I shower and go to bed in JJ’s shirt, letting the aroma bring me peace.

I mindlessly let my fingers travel down to my wet folds and begin playing with myself. I imagine that its JJ’s fingers thrusting and curling inside of me. I imagine the dirty things he would say to me as I chase after my own orgasm. His name leaves my lips in soft whimpers as I finally finish off the night in pure bliss.

#jj maybank smut #jj maybank #lana del rey #obx netflix #the outer banks #jj maybank x reader #jj maybank imagine #jj maybank fic

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tirednotflirting · 4 years

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you're the one to help me get to sleep // maybe i fell in love when you woke me up

oh boy that title looks a lot longer on tumblr than it did on ao3. anyway.

i got stressed out yesterday and finished some fluff bc that’s what we do here at tirednotflirting. forgot to post it here yesterday though so i am doing that Now post-first cup of coffee of the day and halfway through the french toast i made.

random side not but i’ve been listening to my time capsule playlist on spotify and i highly rec checking yours out bc this is So Fun.

here is this on ao3 if you wanna read there.

The sun is just beginning to set over LA and Alex is in love.

The day had been long but good. One of those California summer days that stretched on long enough that it made him wonder if the sun would ever start heading toward its resting place below the horizon. Warm but not hot, the slight breeze allowing them to spend the afternoon writing outside instead of stuck up in the studio.

He’s out on the balcony now, already changed into pajama pants since they decided they would stay in for the night, and a glass of wine dangles between his fingers in between sips. The city is somehow quiet from his spot above it though he can tell it must be loud from all the activity he can see on the street. It’s nice, Alex thinks, to find peace among the blaring white noise of Los Angeles. Today had been his last full day in the city, his flight back to the farm and his furry friends sometime in the early afternoon. He has his boarding pass loaded onto his phone and could easily wander back inside to find his phone and triple check the time so he could make note of when they need to be up in the morning but he’s not quite ready to start thinking about how he has to leave again yet.

Jack would also just immediately kick him back out to his current spot if he tried heading inside right now anyway. Over coffee that morning Jack had declared he would be making dinner for Alex’s last night (It’s romantic, Al, and I only have one more night to romance the fuck out of you). At the time Alex had assumed it was the still half-asleep side of Jack speaking but when Alex arrived back at the apartment after spending part of the afternoon writing, he’d been handed the glass of wine currently resting in his hand and ushered to the balcony door by an apron-clad Jack.

It was rare for Alex to feel this much peace on his last day of a trip to see Jack. Usually there was some element of sadness or anxiety over the impending time apart until more band things or another trip to either coast. But as he tips back the last of his wine and stares back out toward the last bits of light in the city sky, all Alex can feel is a fullness in his chest.

He decides he’s going to want more wine with dinner and given the time, he figures Jack must be close to finishing things up. Alex pulls himself up and pushes the sliding door open to call out toward the kitchen.

“Jack, babe, am I allowed into the kitchen for more wine?”

Jack’s head pokes out from the kitchen with a pout on his lips. “Five more minutes, Alex. You have to give a chef space to work.”

“Bring me the bottle then, please,” Alex says in his sweetest voice, his lashes fluttering. He can see Jack’s dramatic eye roll from where he leans against the door frame before he steps back into the kitchen, emerging a few seconds later with the bottle of white he had poured for Alex earlier.

“Here you go, you lush,” Jack says while passing over the bottle once he’s close enough. Before he has a chance to step away, Alex pulls at the front of his apron to briefly press their lips together. Jack drops a hand to the bottom of Alex’s back to hold him close, his fingers pressing into his skin through his t-shirt.

“I like the apron. It’s cute.” Alex compliments as he smoothes out the wrinkles in the fabric.

Jack’s hand runs up and down Alex’s spine as he hums. It’s an action that mimics the way Jack had been waking him up most days, and a lazy smile pulls at Alex’s lips at the memory of the fond moment. “Thank you,” Jack muses. “I only wore it because I figured you would think that, so it’s nice to know I was right.”

Alex laughs. “You wore something just because you thought I might find it cute?”

“I like being told I’m a cute boy. Sue me,” Jack says, his hand wrapping more securely around Alex’s waist. “Now go back out. I’m just putting things into bowls, I’ll be out in a second, handsome.”

Alex feels himself blush as Jack leans forward to press his lips to Alex’s temple before spinning on his heel and heading back toward the kitchen. As he steps back outside, Alex can’t help but hope that they never leave this phase of their relationship. This not quite honeymoon but not quite settled phase, where they’re so damn comfortable being with each other (in a way Alex used to spend hours awake at night worrying they would never find the path to) but compliments like the one Jack’s just thrown his way still make him blush. It’s a nice spot to be in for now, he thinks.

He pulls the cork from the wine and gives himself another generous pour before leaving the bottle in the middle of the table they’re meant to be eating at. The sky is just fading into dusk, the city draped in a blanket of purples and blues when the light above him clicks on. Alex turns from his spot to find Jack sliding the door open mostly with his foot, two bowls somewhat precariously balanced in each of his hands. Alex jumps up and ignores Jack’s whines as he takes the bowls from him and wanders back to set them on the table while Jack jogs back through the apartment to return with plates and silverware and another wine glass.

“Alright so if this sucks, we’re blaming my mom because she basically walked me through the whole thing step by step,” Jack says once they’re back at the table while he pours wine into his own glass. “Also the caprese salad was her idea since I wasn’t feeling leafy but I feel like romantic dinner date is incomplete without salad.”

“You called your mom to have her walk you through a recipe?” Alex smiles as he lets his head drop to rest in the palm of his hand while he watches Jack spoon some kind of pasta onto the two plates.

“Listen, you know I’m helpless in a kitchen,” Jack says while pushing one of the plates in Alex’s direction. “And it’s your last night here and I wanted to do something nice for you, damn it.”

“That’s very cute,” Alex replies before taking another sip from his wine glass. “You’re very cute.”

“You already told me I was cute. You gotta get more creative with your adjectives, Mr Songwriter.”

Alex shakes his head in mock protest. “I said the apron was cute before, not you.” Jack scowls at him while gently kicking his ankle. “Hush, I knew what you meant.” A smile pulls at Alex’s lips when he notices how Jack leaves their feet all tangled up together under the table after the kick. It’s silly, he knows, to get all blushy over such a simple, nonchalant action but he can’t help it.

Jack points his fork across the table at Alex after taking a bite. “Also my mom said to call her when you get back. She wants to catch up and probably bug you again about when you’re going to propose.”

Alex laughs brightly. “Well my mom was asking that I get you to Facetime her when you’ve got some free time likely for the exact same conversation.” He gestures down to his plate with a nod. “This really does not suck, by the way.”

“Our mothers really ought to be more strategic in their approach on this,” Jack says while shaking his head. “I mean it’s completely impractical that we both propose. And thank you, I try.”

“I think they figure if they double the effort they have a greater chance of success or something.”

“Fair enough, I suppose.”

The banter back and forth over their meal continues well into the night. After a while, Alex insists on clearing the table and taking things inside. He quickly cleans the dishes before grabbing another bottle of wine from the fridge and clean glasses and heading back out. Jack has moved over to the couch he keeps out there and has a blanket pulled over his bare legs, the nighttime breeze dropping the temperature enough to call it a cool night. Alex fills their glasses and leaves the bottle on the table before wandering over to where Jack has decided to lounge.

“For you, sir,” Alex announces while handing over one of the glasses. He takes a seat next Jack, scooting closer to his side to steal some of the blanket and drops his head to rest against Jack’s chest.

Jack hums his thanks as he takes a sip and wraps an arm around Alex’s shoulders. His fingers immediately move to play with the sleeve of his t-shirt as he sighs. “Is it selfish to ask you to cancel your flight and stay longer?”

“Not selfish but also not really a possibility, my love,” Alex says while tilting his head up to press his lips to Jack’s jaw. “I’ve got animal friends to attend to and you’ve got that trip out to see Zack to pack for.”

“Mmm, yeah you’re right,” Jack says while swirling the wine in his glass. “The goats and Zack need cuddles too, I guess.”

“Exactly.” Alex sighs as he lifts his shoulder, asking Jack a silent question that he thankfully knows the answer to. Jack drops his hand to rest in his lap and Alex reaches over for it, his fingers slipping into the spaces between Jack’s and squeezing to press their palms together. He smiles lazily at the action. It’s the little things about time with Jack that stick in his brain when they’re apart. The weight of Jack’s hand in his own, the steady sound of his heartbeat below Alex’s ear, the tapping of Jack’s foot against the ground since even in the quiet, still moments Jack has to find a way to expel the extra energy he always seems to possess. It’s all so familiar and warm. Alex isn’t sure what life would be like without the small details that make up them.

He isn’t sure how long they sit there, sipping and resting against each other while staring out at the light polluted LA night sky. Long enough that Jack eventually lets out a yawn that breaks Alex out of the daze he’d fallen into, the gentle rising and falling of Jack’s chest beneath his head acting as a lullaby of sorts.

“Bedtime?” Alex asks with a gentle laugh. He lets their hands fall apart in favor of moving to cup Jack’s jaw. His thumb runs across the top of his cheek, just below his sleepy eyes.

“Think so, yeah,” Jack slurs his words slightly as he leans into Alex’s touch. “Don’t you need to pack? We’ll probably need to head out at like eleven since your flight is at one.”

And of course Jack remembers what time his flight is at when Alex hasn’t bothered to check all night. He’s always taking care of him in the little ways. In the ways that Alex didn’t realize he needed taking care of, really.

Alex moves to stand and smiles at Jack’s pout when he reaches to pull him up with him. “I can pack in the morning. Right now I just want to cuddle my boy.”

Jack grins at his words and rises without any more protest. They gather the glasses and shuffle back inside. Jack steals them away from Alex once they reach the stairs and gestures for him to head upstairs while he goes in the direction of the kitchen. Alex pouts at the action and leans against the railing to wait for Jack to round the corner again.

Jack jumps a bit when he finds Alex in the same spot he left him. “And you thought I was a sleepy boy?” Jack laughs, something warm and soft behind his gaze. Jack takes a couple steps up, his hand reaching back to loosely link with Alex’s to guide them upstairs.

They get ready for bed quickly despite the half asleep state they both drifted into and soon enough Alex is crawling beneath wrinkled sheets. He’s just barely plugged his phone into the charger when a pair of arms pull him toward the center of the bed.

“How are you always so warm?” Jack mumbles into the back of Alex’s hair as his arms wrap more fully around Alex’s middle. He turns in his arms and Jack settles against his chest. “Not that I’m complaining since it’s freezing in here. But still.”

Alex laughs as he tries to keep his eyes open while Jack nuzzles his cool nose against his collarbone. He reaches a hand up to thread into the hair at the back of Jack’s neck. “Somebody’s got to keep you warm.”

“I’m glad it’s you,” Jack mumbles almost incoherently. Alex waits for him to say more as he continues drawing short patterns through Jack’s hair but he only softly hums and nestles further against his chest.

Alex is moments away from falling falling falling to a peaceful rest when Jack’s hand settles against the bottom of his back beneath the sweatshirt he stole from his closet, the extra layer of Jack’s familiar scent providing some additional security on his last night in this bed. Alex feels Jack’s sleep steady breath puff against his neck and in his final moments of consciousness, all he can think is Jack Jack Jack. His gentle laugh and warm gaze fills Alex’s mind as he lets his eyes finally flutter shut.

And maybe that’s what love is, falling asleep already in a dream.

It’s pouring down rain in Maryland and Jack is in love.

He’s only just woken up, his mind still cloudy from sleep and his eyes still locked shut. Jack isn’t sure what time it is but given that he’s rising naturally and not from an alarm or kisses being pressed against his cheeks, he assumes it must be pretty late into the morning hours.

It’s his first morning on this visit out to the farm. His flight the previous night had gotten in before dinner so Alex had declared it date night (Is every night we’re together not date night, Alex? Romance mode 24/7, baby.) and insisted they stop at the store for ingredients before heading back to the house. Once they were at the farm, they tended to the animals (or Alex did while Jack sat on the floor and let the goats chew on his hoodie strings) before heading back inside where Jack sat at the counter and told Alex stories about his airport adventures while watching him cook. They had tried to start a movie after food but Jack kept falling asleep every few minutes with his head in Alex’s lap so it wasn’t long before he was being pulled in the direction of the bedroom.

He sighs as the last moments of sleep drift off and he settles back into the land of the living. He’s yet to open his eyes in case the sun is peeking in anywhere in the room since he knows he’s not yet awake enough for true daylight. Two thoughts enter his mind almost immediately though: it’s cold as hell and there’s coffee brewing in the kitchen. Both of these things are a result of a third thing that Jack notices and it’s that Alex has left him alone in bed.

Jack would get whiny about the third thing but he knows that given where they are it would be pretty selfish of him. Mornings at the farm are loaded with more responsibilities than mornings in LA, and Jack knows the animal friends deserve breakfast and Alex’s bright, sleepy smile just as much as he does. Plus, his boy did make him coffee.

Jack takes a deep breath and catches the scent of dark roast mixed in with the scent of Alex (his cologne and the same laundry detergent he’s used since his mom would pack it for him on their early tours) before finally pushing himself up from the mattress and opening his eyes. The room is thankfully still dark since Alex left the curtains closed for him but he can hear the rain beating down against the windows even through the heavy fabric. Jack pouts then, suddenly worried about Alex having to wander around out in the January rain by himself.

He finds a hoodie and the slippers his mom gifted him for Christmas a few weeks earlier on the floor beside the bed and pulls both on before shuffling from the bedroom. Jack immediately pulls at the sleeves to cover his hands and considers going back to the bedroom to steal a shirt to throw on underneath the hoodie but the coffee hits his nose again and he continues in the direction of the kitchen.

The only light on in the room is the one over the sink and because of the rain, the kitchen remains pretty dark despite the clock on the microwave reading that it’s a little bit past ten. Jack wanders through the room to the drying rack by the sink to get his mug (the one he found in some little thrift store somewhere in Texas with the painted butterflies) before turning back to the island. He fills the mug from the mostly full French press that must have been made pretty recently, Jack thinks, as he burns his tongue a little on his first sip. Fresh coffee means that Alex has already been out to the stalls for the morning so Jack turns then, having a good feeling about where Alex may have wandered off to, and lets his hip rest against the edge of the counter.

From where he stands leaning against the kitchen island, Jack can see Alex’s head poking out from the back of the couch out on the front porch. He’s got a blue beanie pulled over his head and Jack can see his hands cupped around a mug and he can see the steam rising against Alex’s face. He pulls his phone from his pocket to check the temperature and rolls his eyes at the number shown on the screen but it doesn’t stop him from lifting his own mug to head in the direction of the front door.

Alex looks over in his direction as Jack pushes the door closed behind him to join Alex out in the cold morning air. The rain had settled mostly and a thick fog blankets over the property, the trees at the end of the road and pasture just barely visible. A soft smile pulls at Alex’s lips as he pats the cushion beside him. Jack returns the grin as he takes in the crinkles beside his boy’s tired eyes. Sometimes Jack forgets they’re getting older but then notices a gray hair when he’s looking in the mirror while brushing his teeth or notices Alex’s laughter lines deepening ever so slightly and it reminds him just how long they’ve been on these wild adventures together.

He takes the spot beside Alex and pulls the blanket he’s got covering his lap over his own before letting his head drop to rest against Alex’s shoulder. Jack turns to press his cold nose against Alex’s neck and smiles when he hears a soft whine in response to the action.

“Why are we having our coffee outside when it’s nearly freezing out?” Jack mumbles against Alex’s skin. He feels a hand reach up to card through his bed head and smiles at the feeling.

“You’ve been in California too long,” Alex teases. “We would have been calling this a warm morning back in the day.”

“Jesus, are we really old enough for things to be back in the day now?”

“We’re definitely getting there, love.” Alex laughs before pausing to take a sip from his mug. “Anyway, I finished up feeding everybody and wanted to keep listening to the rain.”

Jack figures that’s a fair enough answer (at least coming from Alex) so they sit in silence for a little while. They sip from their respective mugs and Jack cuddles impossibly closer to Alex for warmth as he searches for patterns in the sound of the rain against the roof. Jack notices the shapes Alex has been drawing through his hair change suddenly and he sits up a bit to see his face and pouts at the expression he’s met with.

“What are you thinking so hard about, huh?” Jack asks as he reaches a hand up to rub away the lines across Alex’s forehead. “Is everything okay?”

“Do you want to move in together?” Alex asks in a somewhat rushed voice while his hands pull at the ends of his sleeves. “Like here? On the farm?”

Jack’s hand falls from Alex’s forehead to cup his cheek. “What?”

“I mean, you should probably keep the place in LA since we’re over there enough for work stuff. And I’ve just been thinking that this feels like a good place to settle down and,” he pauses to take a breath and looks up to meet Jack’s gaze. “And I don’t know if I’m moving too fast but I want to settle down with you.”

“Al, I’ve known you for like, half my life. We’re not exactly operating on a normal relationship timeline here. I’d love to move in,” Jack says into the space between them and he can’t help but lean forward to brush their lips together when Alex’s eyes widen. “Though you’re going to have to teach me how to actually be helpful around this place rather than just sit and look cute while petting the goats.”

“Having someone to sit and look cute with the goats is an essential part of farm maintenance, Jack. Don’t sell yourself short,” Alex says while reaching to cover the hand Jack still has against his cheek. “But don’t worry. We’ll teach you to be a proper farm boy. Get you some boots and everything.”

“I want a cowboy hat, too. But sounds perfect.” Jack says before leaning in to press their lips together again. Alex pulls him closer and Jack feels himself smile into the kiss. Alex’s warmth almost makes him forget about the cold winter air surrounding them and his mind is flooded with the thought of a future where everyday is spent with the eternal summer’s day that is Alex Gaskarth.

Alex pulls away first and a giggle leaves his lips as Jack whines at him. “Guess we should go ahead and actually get the day started then?”

“Has to happen eventually, I suppose.” Jack sighs as he sinks further into the couch.

Alex laughs as he stands up, his hand reaching down to link their hands together. “Come on. We’ve got brunch with the mothers in an hour and now we’ve got good news to share with them. Moms love good news.”

Jack allows himself to be pulled up from the couch and in the direction of the front door. He leans against the wood once they’re back inside and pulls Alex into his hold while his arms move to hang over his shoulders. “We smell like farm and wet dog. And since we’re going to be sharing a home now, I think it only makes sense that we try to conserve resources. What do you think?”

Alex rolls his eyes and slides his hands up to rest against Jack’s chest. “Thank you for the invitation but I figured I would make up another pot of coffee for us while you go get ready?”

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“I keep asking myself the same thing.”

With a final press of his lips to Jack’s cheek, Alex heads off to make the promised coffee. Jack watches him head into the kitchen from where he stands in the front hall. He sees Alex leave the mugs on the island in favor of pulling his phone out to connect to the speaker next to the sink and a second later a song starts playing that immediately has him bouncing on his toes as he fills the kettle from the sink. Jack smiles as he leans against the frame into the dining room while he watches Alex dance around and softly sing while scooping new coffee grounds. He turns then and Jack is caught as Alex smiles and winks in his direction, a mouthed Go while pointing in the direction of the bedroom being his parting gift.

Jack blows a kiss and starts making his way down the front hall to the stairs. He pauses for a moment at the table where Alex had left a mess of different holiday cards he’d received throughout the season. Bright colors and happy smiles meet Jack’s eyes as he spots friends and their families and pets. He sighs and continues down the hall after a moment, wondering if maybe they could get the goats to sit still long enough for a holiday card sometime next fall. It’s a swirling, dreamy thought, but he spends the rest of the morning stuck on the idea of seeing their smiling faces and well wishes mixed into their loved ones’ piles of cards.

And maybe that’s what love is, waking up to the beginning of another dream.

#jalex #jalex fic #i said this on ao3 but i sent the first half of this to bella but not the second half so ignore that the grammar is probably better in the #first half bc of that #this was the first piece i've written in probably several months that's longer than 2k so that's kinda cool #probably bc it could have been split in half but shhhhhh

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