#shes my baby FUCKING girl!!!! my cinnamon APPLE!!!!!

[riddleturner]

a doodle of ridal mepis, my college of eloquence bard and first Legit dnd pc! known hopeless romantic sits up in the high tower of her fantasy magic college, fantasizing about the dragonborn wizard shes in love with as if he isnt Literally her husband teaching a class three rooms over BFJDHF

#ttrpg art #dnd art #bard #dnd bard #dnd gnome #dnd oc #ttrpg oc #oc art #artists on tumblr #digital art #clip studio paint #yes that is a lot of tags but i am very proud of her BFKDBFH #shes my baby FUCKING girl!!!! my cinnamon APPLE!!!!! #her outfits based on a fit i bought for renfaire!! my friend and i bought matching outfits to dress like our pcs from the party #just one party member to go before the whole adventuring party is In The Real #my art #also. yes her name is a play on that one mcelroy segment. her bardic spellcasting focus is telling riddles BHFSKHFJD #dnd #ttrpg #waterdeep dragon heist #ok thats it i promise LMFAO

[pollenallergie]

this user would like to discuss sapphic!chrissy cunningham again

#specifically x reader #bc as much as i love buckingham… i am a ronance believer to my core #and also i’m selfish and want chrissy to myself #your honor she’s my baby #she’s everything to me #i will forever be thankful that grace chose to play her as being really sweet #bc that cute lil soft girl kindness is truly what made fall in loveeee with that character #she’s my fucking cinnamon apple

[gainerbf]

The One Part V

CW: WG, FFA/BHM Relationship, Feedism, Male Feedee, Female Feedee

June 1st, 2020

The Pandemic Break

Covid. It has changed the world. I actually hate writing this part of the story because of ptsd. I despise the year 2020. I hate covid-19 more than I hate anything. This stupid disease robbed us of more than we’ll ever know. The most important thing that was taken from us? Time.

Time had been taken from Eddie and Sydney. Due to the pandemic, they were forced to stay apart for the 1st 3 months of the pandemic. Even worse, Sydney’s camera on her phone was broken and Eddie didn’t have any way to video chat so they could only voice chat on discord or talk on the phone. Sydney was worried 24/7.

Sydney: Are you eating enough?

Eddie: Yes babe.

Sydney: Are you sure? Do you need some money for food?

Eddie: No babe.

Sydney: What if I called over a pizz-

Eddie: Syd…stop. I’m eatimg more than enough.

Sydney: but but but…

Eddie: 8 eggs, a pack of bacon, 3 cinnamon rolls, 2 glasses of whole milk and a bowl of cereal…that was just breakfast babe. Don’t worry. I’m eating.

Sydney was relieved but felt useless. She wanted to feed her man. He was close to 300 pounds but Eddie wanted to tease her by not telling her how much he weighed.

Eddie: We’ll weigh in when I see you

He would reassure her.

Eddie: You might faint when you see me…

He would tease her.

Sydney: This stupid pandemic, I miss you so much Eddie.

Eddie: I miss you too Syd. Not much longer now. Looks like next week we’ll be able to meet up and finally hang out.

Sydney: Thank GOD

The week past and things started to open up on a moderate level. Enough to where Sydney and eddie could go and have a picnic.

Sydney arrived about 20 minutes early to set everything up in a nice secluded spot. She brought Eddie’s favorite lunch. A big foot long sub with all the fixins. An apple pie. Some ice cold lemonade and some chocolate covered strawberries. She was finishing up when she heard his voice.

Eddie: Well aint she the most beautiful flower in the field today

Sydney went red and turned around…

Then Sydney got light headed and fell to her knees. Her jaw hit the floor.

Eddie was big. Really big. Like well over 300 pounds big. His belly was peeking out the bottom of his shirt. His legs were definitely too big for his maxed out shorts. He grew a beard but you could see how round his face had gotten…he was even eating a candy bar as he approached.

Eddie: Well…give me a kiss baby girl.

Sydney jumped into his arms and they fell into the grass. She landed in a pool of fat and wanted to swim forever. They kissed for a long time. It was well overdue.

Sydney: You uhhh…

Eddie: I know. I’m really fat.

Sydney: It’s so hot I might explode.

Eddie: I don’t know why but ever since I met you it’s like my metabolism tanked and I couldn’t stop getting fatter.

Sydney, smirking: I have magical powers 😌 these hands are made for stuffing cute fat boys

She pinched his big lower belly.

Sydney: Well. Hope you brought your appetite. I prepared a big spread for you.

Eddie: Thank god, I’m starving

They sat and ate and enjoyed eachothers company. Yet, Sydney just needed to know. She wanted to know just how big Eddie really was.

Sydney: So..

Eddie: So?

Sydney: How much?

Eddie: How much what?

Sydney: How much weight did you gain? You were 280 last time I saw you. What’s the new number?

Eddie laughed for a second then got a little flustered.

Eddie: Oh my god 280? Yikes babe I kinda ballooned

Sydney was getting very hot and bothered now

Eddie: How about I give you 3 guesses

Sydney: 400

Eddie: Oh my god babe I’m not that big what the fuck 😂

Sydney: Ok maybe some other time. Hmmmmmmmmm. 310?

Eddie: Higher.

Sydney let out an unholy noise when he said that

Sydney: 320?

Eddie: 314

Sydney stood up and walked to a nearby bench. Eddie was confused. He got up and sat next to her…which wasn’t a great idea this bench was STRUGGLING.

Eddie: What’s the matter baby?

Sydney: Are you ok with being that big? I feel kind of guilty Eddie. You met me and put on over 110 pounds in a year and a half. What if that wasn’t what you wanted? What if.

Eddie: Stop.

Eddie halted her right then and there.

Eddie: Sydney. Meeting you was the best thing that’s ever happened to me. I don’t mind being this big, not fitting into booths, breaking furniture, outgrowing clothes as long as you love me. If you do, then I’m ok with it. You’re all I care about. If you like me big, then I’ll be HUGE for you

He kissed her on the cheek and cradled her head into his huge soft chest.

Eddie: Now, lets get ba-

Before he could finish the bench broke and down they went. They both sat up and broke out laughing.

Eddie, current weight: 314

Hope you all enjoyed this! I’d love to put out something like this every week but who knows if I can be that creative consistently 😅

#gainer diaries #the one

[babyboybokuto]

hiii cece hope you're having a great day/night ♡ i wanted to return the favor and ask you something !! sooo i wanted to know your favorite characters of all time, like your top 5, and if u want to i would like to know why !! i just think u can learn a lot from someone by their favorite blorbos lol

OOOOOO this is a good one, ok in no particular order (because I just can’t I love them all so much) I’m gonna say my top 5 are

1) Bokuto (obv, that’s my sunshine cinnamon apple)

My best friend was the one to get me into Haikyuu and the first character I actually loved was Nishinoya, but when this himbo ball of light came on screen my heart was like “him, that’s our boy”

Also fun fact I’m actually such a hater lowkey because in my first year of college (before I was into anime) my ex was actually watching Haikyuu and I walked in on her crying over an episode and I looked at her like 🤨 what is wrong with you crying over some pictures (oh how the turnt tables am I right)

2) Gon and Killua (you can’t separate them)

My babies my sons my everything’s , HxH had such a big impact on me and it took me FOREVER to watch it so it was a part of my routine for a while and it sounds silly to say I was inspired by some 12 year olds but genuinely I was I absolutely love their characters and their development throughout the story

3) Nobara (best girl)

From the moment she showed up on screen I have loved this girl so much she’s so sassy and funny and she is so sure about herself her sense of self is something I can only dream to have and she’s such a fucking badass her technique is incredible and I miss her so much GEGE BRING HER BACK

4) Gojo

Riding that jjk train still it’s actually really funny because I actually hated Gojo when I first watched season 1, I found him to be arrogant and annoying, and then I read the manga and I realized that the reason I hate him was not really because he’s arrogant and annoying (which he is) but it’s because I saw myself in him (tragic I know) and then especially after I read Hidden Inventory arc my entire perspective changed and I realized he’s actually a character I treasure very much and I love him

5) Zoro and Sanji (another package deal sorry)

Now hear me out right I am like 0.000001% of the way through one piece (I’m on like episode 140) but the way these characters have stolen my heart is insane, and do I happen to also simp for both of them?? Yes, but the point is that their actual characters are so amazing to me and I know there’s still more of Sanjis backstory that I haven’t really seen and it’s most likely going to break me but I just have such a love for them and their dynamic so I’m gonna say they’re top five for me; the way that Zoro is so dedicated and loyal is something I find to be an incredible aspect of him (not to mention his talents as a swordsman), and Sanji cares so deeply for people and is such a caretaker and the fact that he is able to fight using only his legs is also incredible to me

So those are my top 5 (7?) favorite blorbos and a little bit as to why , idk why I stuck specifically to anime because I definitely have favorite characters from other forms of media but this is just what my brain wanted to supply at this very moment

thank you for the question carmen 🥺🫶🏼

#🫧 cece’s answers 🫧

[motownfiction]

pumpkin spice latte

Other than loving each other, the only thing Rosemary and Michael can agree on is loving their coffee.

Growing up, the two of them were never particularly close. Being brother and sister was hard enough as it was, but a four-year age gap made it nearly impossible. Rosemary, with her loud voice and bright energy, is exactly like every Doyle in the world (and the ones who have since left it, too). Michael, with his caution and precision, isn’t much like a Doyle or a DeLuca. He’s his own thing. Always has been.

When they were kids, Michael and Rosemary largely avoided each other. They loved each other, always, but they didn’t know how to be friends. Things changed around 2015, when Rosemary started watching Game of Thrones in between her classes at Michigan. Michael, who had recently moved into his own place, still stopped by to see his parents every now and then. He caught her watching, stayed a little while, and talked with Rose. Before long, he was coming back home just to hang out with her. They didn’t agree on anything about the show, but it was always a good time. He still wishes he’d made fun of Rosemary more when they were children. She’s a good sport about it.

This morning is the perfect opportunity to mock her. It’s the day before Thanksgiving, and they meet up at Starbucks to discuss their game plan for tomorrow’s dinner: how to deal with Charlie, with Grandma Maggie, with Katie Sheehan’s terrible store-bought pumpkin pie (the one she still thinks is fooling everyone). Billy, as always, is running late, but they don’t wait for him.

“I can’t do this without caffeine,” Rosemary says as they wait in line.

“Me neither,” Michael says. “You know, it’s your fault I’m addicted to caffeine now.”

“It is not.”

“Yeah, it is. Before you forced me to drink that cinnamon tea –”

“Forced you?”

“Forced me … I was getting by without caffeine. Now, I’m like that … what is that? Girl you like. The hair and the outfits.”

“Lorelai Gilmore?”

“Yeah, that one.”

Rosemary rolls her eyes.

“I don’t know how I got to know you well enough to figure that out,” she says. “I’m kind of sorry I did.”

Michael almost laughs.

“Yeah, well, you’re next,” he says, as though she doesn’t notice.

Rosemary grins with all her teeth, tips her head to the side like she’s modeling for an archaic Sears catalog, and says, “Pumpkin spice latte, please!”

Now, Michael actually laughs. Rosemary turns around and stares daggers at him.

“Basic bitch,” he says.

“Basic asshole,” Rosemary says. “You know what? I’m gonna tell them you’re my very tall son, and you’re not allowed to have coffee.”

“You wouldn’t even get away with it.”

“Sure I would. I’d tell them you suffer from SORAS.”

“Sore ass? Like I need a hemorrhoid donut?”

“No, asshole. Soap Opera Rapid Aging Syndrome. When a woman has a baby on a soap opera, and three months later, he’s starting high school.”

“Rose, no one knows what the fuck that means.”

“Watch me. Watch me prove you wrong. And when you’re wrong, it’s apple juice for you. It’s apple juice all fucking day.”

Michael rolls his eyes. The barista turns around with Rosemary’s pumpkin spice latte in her hand. She wears a knowing smile.

“Here you go,” she says to Rosemary. “I have an older brother, too.”

Rosemary looks at Michael and shrugs before taking a smug sip of her basic drink.

#drabble #writeblr #drink #food #ch: rosemary deluca #ch: michael deluca #year: 2023 #heretofore unpublished #been sitting a long time

[possiblu]

wandering through an art gallery alone

summertime the gershwin version - lana del rey

pink + white - frank ocean

illicit affairs - taylor swift

in the woods somewhere - hozier

fuck it i love you - lana del rey

fish - billie marten

telescope - cavetown

the man with the axe - lorde

california - lana del rey

georgia - phoebe bridgers

dark but just a game - lana del rey

this love - taylor swift

mariners apartment complex - lana del rey

werewolf - fiona apple

lovers rock - tv girl

i stay away - alice in chains

black dog - arlo parks

4am - girl in red

this song is you - frank sinatra

there is a light that never goes out - the smiths

wild at heart - lana del rey

wasteland, baby - hozier

the path - lorde

i want you - mitski

sad eyes - mini dresses

chelsea hotel #2 - leonard cohen

cowboy like me - taylor swift

i don’t believe in the sun - the magnetic fields

wild world - cat stevens

old money - lana del rey

kinky love - pale saints

but not for me - ella fitzgerald

wash. - bon iver

after the zero hour - wolf alice

peace - taylor swift

male fantasy - billie enlist

silent movies - aquino

she’s my baby - mazzy star

daybed - fka twigs

fade into you - mazzy star

louise - camille jansen

cinnamon girl - lana del rey

champagne problems - taylor swift

california - lorde

always forever - cults

make my bed - king princess

chemtrails over the country club - lana del rey

sedated - hozier

alley cats - hot chip

its u - cavetown

stargirl interlude - the weeknd

lipstick on the glass - wolf alice

pale blue eyes - the velvet underground

andromeda - weyes blood

the archer - alexandra savior

she dances - billie marten

all my little words - the magnetic fields

ill make cereal - cavetown

all of me wants all of you - sufjan stevens

sappho - frankie cosmos

when he’s done - tei shi

mystery of love - sufjan stevens

watercolour eyes - lana del rey

tomorrow never came - lana del rey

randy - big thief

the rain - joe hisaishi

norman fucking rockwell - lana del rey

my future - billie eilish

idle town - conan gray

let down - radiohead

osmosis - origami angel

tiny dancer - elton john

try to be hopeful - the spook school

she tastes like summer - spilt milk society

bartender - lana del rey

ride our bikes to school - origami angel

mice - billie marten

crimson and clover - tommy james and the shondells

my one and only love - john coltrane

graceland too - phoebe bridgers

coffee - beabadoobee

venice bitch - lana del rey

how big, how blue, how beautiful - florence + the machine

run - hozier

this night has opened my eyes - the smiths

hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - lana del rey

bite the hand - boygenius

state of grace (acoustic) - taylor swift

strawberry fields forever - the beatles

ivy - taylor swift

cherry - harry styles

pale september - fiona apple

a sunday kind of love - etta james

you are too beautiful - john coltrane

black bathing suit - lana del rey

sky full of song - florence + the machine

love - lana del rey

the rules - illuminati hotties

northern downpour - panic! at the disco

seven - taylor swift

young and beautiful - glass animals

tokyo - matt maltese

fast car - tracy chapman

into dust - mazzy star

overthinking it - willow

blue light - mazzy star

femme fatale - the velvet underground

how to disappear - lana del rey

my romance - ella fitzgerald

soulful strut - young-holt unlimited

death of the phone call - whatever, dad

lullaby - simi

cherry blossom - lana del rey

the lakes - taylor swift

greek god - conan gray

johanna - suki waterhouse

like real people do - hozier

lookalike - conan gray

silver girl - fleetwood mac

seagull - aquilo

my tears ricochet - taylor swift

prettygirlz - willow

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/7o1Y9RwCBHQPZCMvtj28YS?si=kvRrYPbyRfmlaG9Vx0-f4w&pt=702bd5e9551cee3d401b3ee1912becc4

#lu’s playlists #playlist #playlists #spotify #light academia #dark academia #studying #museum #hozier #fleetwood mac #taylor swift #lana del rey #conan gray #suki waterhouse #jazz #the velvet underground #mazzy star #glass animals #the smiths #florence + the machine #fiona apple #harry styles #phoebe bridgers #elton john #billie eilish #sufjan stevens #king princess #lorde #wolf alice #studyblr

[writing-wh0re]

October 7th. Kinky Halloween Special Masterlist

Kink: Daddy

Au!Fred x Reader.

Words: 2,524.

Warnings: Smut18+, Unprotected Sex, Female Performing Oral, Male Performing Oral, Dirty Talk, Daddy Dom Fred, Praise. Best-friends Dad (Age Gap) 

*Nova is my own character. 

The moment Nova had suggested that I tag along with her for the summer and stay at her dad’s lake house, I couldn’t refuse. I was so excited. 

One, the lake house is in the prime location, bars are within walking distance, the pool is immaculate and the view was something else all together. 

Two, Nova’s dad, Fred. 

God Fred was the definition of Dilf. 

The first time I noticed my school girl crush was Nova’s 21st birthday. Fred had booked out a private Yacht and invited most of the people from our classes. It was sweet and probably the happiest I have seen Nova. However, I spent most of the night at the top of the Yacht drinking and joking around with Fred, both of us wanting to escape the crowd. That night solidified my crush for the older man, especially the second his fingertips brushed my knee which caused my skin to erupt with goosebumps and my breath to catch in my throat. I could have sworn Fred’s eyes lingered on my cleavage a little too much that night but I’m sure it was the alcohol swirling through my veins. 

“Ready?” Nova’s voice pulls me from my thoughts, her suitcase behind her. 

“Definitely.” I confirm zipping my case and following Nova out of our dorm, excitement and nervous bubbling inside of me. 

\\//

Nova pushes the large dark wood door open, the smell of cinnamon and apple filling the air, light chatter bouncing off the walls. 

“I think my uncle is here.” Nova mumbles, leaving her suitcase on the ground and walking through the house. I follow her lead, ditching my suitcase and taking in the beautifully styled home. 

“Hey Dad, uncle George.” 

I almost faint on the spot, there’s Fred and a literal duplicate of Fred.

“Uh Dad you remember Y/n, George this is my best friend Y/n.” I smile weakly at the pair as George smiles at me.

“Good to see you again Y/n.” Fred smiles, I notice George side eye Fred quickly raising his eyebrows before taking a sip of his drink. Fred simply smirks, nodding softly, his eyes lingering on me before darting over to Nova. I frown my eyebrows together trying to understand what they are silently talking about, surely not me. I shake the thought from my head, of course two grown men haven't been talking about me, especially not my best friend's dad. Get it together Y/n. 

“So, what do you have planned for this summer?” George asks, his eyes flicking between Nova and I. 

“Definitely hitting the bars, soaking in the sun and maybe finding a man or two.” Nova winks as she hands me a glass of wine. 

“A man?” Fred questions. 

“Or two?” George questions both of them laughing at each other. 

“It's summer, why not have a little fun?” The second the words leave my lips I feel a blush creep upon my face, Fred and George both chuckling in response. 

“Maybe we should go have some summer fun Freddie.” George smirks causing Nova to gag slightly. 

“Right, that's our cue to leave.” Nova mumbles quickly downing the rest of her glass and walking back inside the house. 

“Uh.” The heat returns to my body as I get left alone with Fred and George. I leave my glass on the table in front of me and walk inside the house, once inside I turn back to take in Fred’s appearance one last time. My breath hitches in my throat and butterflies erupt inside of me as our eyes lock together. I hurriedly look away and rush through the house to get ready for the night with Nova. 

Coincidence. Just a simple Coincidence. 

\\// 

Nova and I had been dancing for hours, the music thumped through my chest, the alcohol flowed through my veins and my mind kept wandering to Fred, curious as to what he is doing right now. 

“Hey, this is Tom and we’re getting out of here.” Nova squeals excitedly, pulling a blonde guy behind her before I even have a chance to respond. 

“Seriously?” I yell, my voice falling silent over the sound of the music. I follow behind the pair, hoping to catch Nova and ask if she is seriously leaving me in the club right now. 

“Hey!” 

Nova’s body disappears into a cab before she has the chance to hear me. 

“Fuck.” I huff, the cool breeze hitting my exposed skin. Only a three minute walk back to the house, I tell myself. I quickly check the time, 11:45pm, Fred will definitely be asleep and won’t question Nova’s hodiny act. 

The walk back was quick and almost claiming. The sound of the wind blowing in the trees, owls hooting and the crispy moon light shining along the streets. 

The walk back to the house had definitely sobered me up, now fully aware of how loud my heels are against the pavement. I decide to slip my heels off before walking on the wooden deck, not wanting to disturb Fred. I search through my bag, trying to find the house key but coming up empty handed. 

“Fuck you Nova.” I mumble, slightly lifting up the doormat with my foot in hopes of a spare key, but no luck. Right as I’m about to walk around the back and sleep on the deck chairs the door pulls open. 

Fred and George both laugh and continue their conversation before their eyes land on me. 

“Oh Y/n, hello again.” George smiles. 

“Um, hey.” I smile back. My eyes quickly flick to Fred his toned chest on full display and loose grey sweatpants hanging on his hips. 

“Everything okay? You’re missing Nova.” Fred asks, slight worry filling his voice. 

“Yeah no, everything is fine, Nova is making her summer fun with Tom?” I question wondering if I should even be telling her father and uncle this. 

The twins laugh at my question, both shaking their heads. 

“Well I will see you later, nice meeting you y/n.” George smiles, “Enjoy your summer Freddie.” George’s eyes look me up and down before he walks past me, the sound of his car unlocking in the near distance. 

“Excuse me.” I mumble pushing past Fred as he stands in the doorway, I quickly drop my shoes with the others at the door, wanting to rush away to my room. 

“So why aren’t you out making your summer fun with a guy?” 

I feel my mouth go dry at his question, how do I answer this without saying it’s because of you dumbass. 

“The guy’s I typically go for aren’t hanging around at clubs.” Fred raises his eyebrow, his eyes flicking from my lips and back to my eyes. 

“What kind of guys do you go for?” 

Now's your chance, say it's him, if it goes badly act super drunk and blame it on that. I take a deep breath after listening to the internal battle with myself. 

“Guys that choose to stay in with their brothers and drink.” The moment the sentence flows through the air, my cheeks heat up, both with nerves and regret. 

Fred smirks, licking his lips before walking towards me. I back away from him slightly before my back hits the wall. 

“Is that so? Darling, I'm old enough to be your father” 

“That has never been an issue for me… daddy.” 

Fred groans before locking his lips with mine. I moan into the kiss, the sweet taste of cinnamon whiskey on his tongue as our tongues fight for dominance. His hands roam my body, falling to the middle of my back and pulling me flush against his chest. My fingers lace in his hair, tugging on the strands. 

“This is wrong.” I pant, pulling away from the kiss as our chests rise and fall. 

“Say the word and I stop.” Fred’s eyes search mine for any hesitation before I close the gap between us. His hands fall to my thighs picking me up in one swift motion and slowly walking us to his bedroom. My red dress hikes up my thighs with every step closer to the room, my black lace panties on full display. I pull my lips away from Fred’s kissing down his neck before discovering his sweet spot. His fingers grip my ass tight, moans falling from his lips. 

A surprised squeal escapes me as Fred drops me on his bed, his eyes lingering on my body. Before he has the chance to ask me I pull my dress from my skin, leaving me in just my panties, thankful that my dress didn’t require a bra. 

“Jesus.” Fred steps back, taking in the sight of me half naked and under him, egar for him. 

“Daddy please.” The nickname causes his eyes to roll back slightly, a low sigh passing his lips as he cages me in against the mattress, kissing my lips before trailing kisses down my neck towards my boobs. I arch my back causing my nipple to press against his tongue more, his teeth pulling at the hardening nub. 

“Yes, daddy.” 

Fred smirks, chuckling as the slight vibration rumbles against my skin. 

“I’ve barely touched you babygirl, look at you, so needy and eager for me.” 

“Only you.” 

My words pull yet another chuckle from his lips. Fred’s fingertips trail along the waistband on my panties causing a shiver to run down my spine. He leans down over my body, his warm breath fanning against my neck. 

“Get on your knees.” Within a second I am on my knees looking up at him. “Fuck, such a good girl.” 

I softly nod in response, my hand palming his evident erection through his sweatpants. Fred hisses at the contact before ridding himself of the clothing. 

A whimper escapes me at the sight of his hard cock. Longer and thicker than I had imagined but everything I need. 

Without being asked I take his dick in my hand, pumping up and down as I lightly swirl my tongue around the head. 

“Yes baby.” Fred’s fingers loop in my hair, holding it out of the way to ensure he gets the perfect view of his cock disappearing into my throat. I bob my head up and down his length, my tongue swirling and my cheeks hollowing out. Fred’s cock leaves my lips with a pop, he grabs his dick and slowly slides it up and down my tongue moaning at the sight. 

“Fucking perfect.” My eyes roll back at the praise, arousal leaking down my thighs and my mind hoping this isn’t some twisted dream. 

Fred pulls me up by my arms, his lips finding mine again in a hungry kiss. His fingertips brush against my clothed pussy before slipping past the fabric and rubbing my swollen clit. I hiss at the contact, Fred moans at the feeling of my wetness. 

“Daddy’s girl likes sucking dick huh?” 

“Makes her little pussy drip?” 

“Does my princess touch herself to the thought of me?” 

I meekly nod in response not wanting the pleasure to stop, however Fred stops his movements causing me to whimper. 

“Daddy asked you a question darling, do you think of me when you cum?” 

“Y-yes.” 

“Good girl.” He presses a quick kiss to the side of my head before he pushes me back onto the bed, ripping the panties from my skin. His tongue presses flat against my clit as I sigh with pleasure and surprise. 

“Daddy.” 

Fred hums against my pussy, swirling his tongue in a figure eight motion as my fingers grip the bed sheets. Fred continues to lap at my cunt, savouring the taste before his hands find mine, lacing our fingers together. 

“Fuck.” I moan as I look down at Fred, his eyes catching mine while swiping his tongue side to side. 

“Yes, fuck, oh I’m close.” I regret saying the words the second Fred pulls away from me. 

“No baby, you’re cumming on my cock.” Butterflies fill my stomach at his words, truly hoping this is really happening. 

Fred lays down next to me on the bed, grabbing my hips and guiding me to straddle his waist. His hand falls behind my neck, our lips meet in a brief kiss before being broken by my moans. Fred slides inside of me, stretching my walls perfectly. 

“So big daddy.” My fingernails drag down his chest earning a hiss from his lips. After a few seconds of adjusting to his size I rock my hips back and forth, keeping my hands placed on his chest for balance. 

“Beautiful.” Blush fills my cheeks at his praise, his soft hands rubbing up and down my sides. I keep my rhythm, every now and again swirling my hips for a different sensation, one that pulls the most delicious moans from his lips. Fred’s hands grip my ass, spanking the supple skin as I cry out in pleasure. 

“Is this what you like, baby? Taking control and fucking daddy?” I hum in response as my eyes flutter closed basking in the feeling of his cock hitting my g-spot. Fred’s hands move to my back, flipping us over as I gasp. 

“Only I can make you feel this good.” 

My lips part and my eyes squeeze shut at the new angle. Fred’s resting on his knees with my legs against his chest, ankles resting on his shoulders, his hands groping my boobs. 

“Look at you squirming on my cock, ruining you for any other man.” 

“God daddy yes.” 

“You’re mine.” 

“Only yours daddy.” 

Fred grunts at my response, his pace picking up as he starts to rub fast circles on my clit. 

“Yes!” I cry out, my pussy clenching around him. “Just like that.” 

“You cum when I say.” 

I huff, digging my nails into the comforter as I scream and cry out. 

“Daddy please, please let me cum.” 

Fred grunts, licking his lips.

“Mmm hold it for me.” 

My eyes roll back as my back arches off the mattress. 

“Daddy, please!” 

I feel Fred’s cock twitch inside of me, a deep moan filling the air. 

“Fucking cum for me Y/n.” 

A shiver runs down my spine, my body tenses as Fred’s name passes my lips. My mind feels foggy and my vision blurs. Fred grips my legs, his hips faltering as his hot release fills me. 

Fred pulls out of me, both of us sighing, our chests rising and falling, sweat glistening on our bodies. 

“Thank you.” I blurt out, feeling tiredness wash over me. 

“No need to thank me Darling.” He places a soft kiss to my lips as I feel my eyelids get heavier, not even bothering to move as sleep envelops me. 

\\//

I wake up the next morning to the sun shining through the blinds. Instantly everything floods back from last night. I quickly lift up the bedsheets, my naked body confirming that it wasn’t just a dream. 

“Morning.” Fred mumbles, his morning voice sending wetness straight to my pussy. 

“Morning.” I whisper a goofy smile on my face. Fred pulls me into him, his nose brushing against mine before our lips meet in the middle. 

“Hey dad, have you see- WHAT THE FUCK?”

\\// 

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Unbroken (27)

Unbroken Masterlist

Read on Wattpad

*Colby's POV*

Today was Leighton's 21st birthday, and I had the fun task of keeping her out of the house whilst her family prepared.

I was currently sitting in Melissa's car, waiting for the birthday girl herself to walk out the front door, and after a couple minutes, I watched the front door open, and she walked out looking stunning.

Her long dark hair was in beach waves down her back, jewelry littering her wrists and fingers. A dainty necklace was resting on the middle of her upper chest and she had a couple earrings going up her ears.

a/n: her bump is NOT this big lol

a/n: Colby's look cus I gave you Leighs lol

"Happy Birthday!" I cheered when she opened her car door.

"Thank you!" She had a big smile on her face, taking a seat.

"You look gorgeous Leigh!" I complimented and her cheeks got a little pink.

"Thank you! I actually tried today" She giggled, brushing some of her hair out of her face.

"You don't have to try Leigh. You're beautiful, don't let anyone tell you any differently!" I lectured and she rolled her eyes.

"Reel it in Romeo. I'm not your Juliet" She snickered.

"You're not going to notice my fit? I'm wearing fancy clothes for you!" I fake offense, motioning towards my more dressy attire.

"You look good Brock, what are our plans for today? I didn't know we were going fancy or I would've worn something different. I'm not even in heels! I'm wearing fucking sandals! What are we doing?" She asked

"Well, for starters, we are going to go get breakfast! What do you want?" I asked her, putting the car into reverse.

"Cinnamon rolls sound so good! I know a good bakery around here! Let me go to Google Maps!" She grabbed her phone. "Cinnamon rolls sound good to you too right?" She asked and I shook my head in disbelief that she was considering what I wanted on her birthday.

"Yes absolutely! Let's go!"

I started the drive, following the GPS when Leighton spoke up. "I can't believe I'm 21. Time flies when you're pregnant" She joked and I rolled my eyes, a smile on my face.

"I can't believe you're 21 either. Once that baby is out, we are going drinking!" I grinned, slightly excited at the idea of partying with her.

"I can't wait to do a shot! Oh my god! I wish I could" She frowned and I chuckled again, also kind of wishing she could.

"I'm telling you! The second that baby pops out, I'm handing you tequila" I laughed and she grinned.

"I'm sure the doctors would love that. I literally woke up to a text from Sam that read "happy big two one the second you're home we're doing apple juice shots" so you guys really are the same person" Leighton laughed.

"Okay but like apple juice shots sound like the shit right now" I admitted and she laughed.

"Don't mind me, just going to take my annual birthday selfie" She spoke, extending her arm out to take the photo.

"I still can't believe you don't have an Instagram, yet you take selfies like a social media addict"

"No I don't! I don't take them that often! I take photos to remember events or looks. I don't just wake up every morning and take a selfie. It's a big day, plus I love my outfit and my makeup. If I remember correctly, your whole Instagram feed is photoshoots. You don't see me calling over a photographer because my look is good" She raised an eyebrow.

"You literally don't even have an Instagram, how do you know that?" I laughed.

"I might've googled your Instagram" She admitted and I smirked.

"Ah! Who's the stalker now?!" I called out and I saw her roll her eyes.

"Please. If you don't want people to look at it, don't have it public!"

"Maybe I wanted you to look at it. You can see how famous I am and how good I look. Those professional shoots got me a mill!" I teased and she scoffed, "Ah yes. They follow you to see your professional photoshoots, not because they drool over your Instagram photos"

"Oh? You drool over my Instagram pics huh?" I asked and I turned to look at her and saw her narrow her eyes at me, before turning to look back at the road.

"I didn't say that! I said your followers do! I will admit, your feed is good, but that isn't enough for me to have one. I don't need that stress in my life. I don't like what it does to peoples mental health, or the ideas it puts into their head, let alone people think they can say whatever the fuck they want. It's toxic as hell, and isn't for me" She ranted, turning to look outside her window.

"But you're not looking at the pros of it! You're only focusing on it's flaws!" I defended and she shook her head.

"Those flaws killed people" She grumbled, playing with her rings.

I decided to drop the social media conversation and Leighton and I arrived at the bakery, the scent of fresh bread and cakes hit our noses the second we opened the door.

Honestly if Heaven had a smell, it probably smelt like this bakery.

"Welcome to my secret getaway Colby!" Leighton grinned and I saw an older woman's head quickly turn around.

"Is that Leighton I hear?" She called out and I saw Leigh nod.

"It is! Hi Betty!" She grinned, walking towards the counter.

Betty?

"Hey sugar plum!" She met Leighton at the counter.

Sugar plum?

I felt like I had one too many weed brownies and now I'm in a bakery.

"Colby, this is Betty! I used to work here when I visited for the summer awhile back!" She explained and I nodded, things starting to make a little more sense.

"What can I do for you two?" The older woman asked and Leighton rested her hands on the counter top.

"Two cinnamon rolls please!" She spoke in a cheery tone and we watched Betty put them on plates and warm them up a little bit.

"Anything for the birthday girl! Don't think I forgot! You look good sweetheart" She complimented Leighton and Leigh smiled.

"Thank you! I'm happy to be home! I've missed being here" she confessed.

"We've missed having you around honey! So, who is this handsome boy you brought with you?" Betty asked and I smirked to myself, already knowing what Betty was thinking.

"This is my friend Colby" Leighton said again and Betty gave her a look.

"Just a friend?" She asked, sounding suspicious. I couldn't hold back my smile as I laughed a little to myself when Leighton nodded. "Just a friend"

"What happened to the other boy you were with?" Betty asked and I saw Leighton's shoulder blades tense a little.

"We broke up, but he's still in my life. He's actually my baby's father" She backed up a little to show off her bump and Betty's eyes widened in surprise.

"Oh my! Well, here are your rolls kids! Don't be shy, and come back anytime!" Betty handed us our cinnamon rolls in a tiny pastel purple box, dropping the subject which was surprising.

Leighton and I sat down with our cinnamon rolls, talking about who Betty was, how Leighton knew her and Leigh's history with the bakery.

Leigh apparently met Betty from working here, but she's been coming to this bakery since she was a little kid, and apparently had a lot of good memories here.

"Oh my god their donuts are to die for!" She moaned and I cocked an eyebrow.

"Would you have rather gotten a donut?" I asked and she gave it some serious thought before shaking her head no.

Which if you know any pregnant woman, that meant we were stopping to get her a donut before we left the bakery.

"I can't wait to come back here with my little one and let them have the same experiences." She sighed with a small smile on her face, leaning her cheek on her knuckles.

"I still don't get why you don't move back" I muttered, finishing my gooey cinnamon roll.

"I told you. I got to stay back in Califro-"

"For your mother I know, I know" I cut her off and she shook her head.

"More than just my mom" She gave a soft smile and I scrunched up my nose a little bit.

"What else is in California besides your mom that's keeping you there?"

She still had a small smile on her face and a twinkle in her eye as she shrugged, almost like she was keeping a secret to herself. "I'm learning to adapt to being there, even though I love being here"

~

"What's next!" I asked and Leighton gave me a funny look.

"Aren't you supposed to have this planned?" She asked and I scoffed.

"I'm the chauffeur, not your tour guide!" I told her and she rolled her eyes, smiling. "Fine, Let's go to Target!"

Walking through Target in semi fancy clothes felt weird. We definitely got quite a few looks.

"OH MY GOD ADULT ONESIES!" She gasped, clutching an Eeyore one. "PLEASE CAN WE GET ONE AND TAKE IT BACK TO CALI?!" She begged and I laughed when she handed me a Tigger one.

"What should we get Sam and Kat?" She looked through the different onesies, pulling a couple out. "We could get these" She held up some safari onesies in her hand.

"Well I have a koala one back home, we could go for like the giraffe, elephant and something else and be kind of matching?" I suggested, now looking through them as well.

"Oh my god we can get a baby one too! Wait! Oh my god!" She squealed, putting the onesies back and booking it to the baby aisle. "OH MY GOD! Colby, what should I buy for my baby? Is a fox onesie dumb? Cause like, Fox is our last name" She asked, grabbing the fox onesie and holding it up.

"Your baby is taking your last name?" I asked and her lips formed into a tight line.

"Um, yeah" She said in an unsure tone.

"What is Gabe's last name?" I questioned and she huffed.

"Bennett. I'm not buying my baby a crow onesie"

"What's his full name? If you're having a boy, are you doing the cliché named after a family member route?" I questioned and she shrugged.

"I'd love to name my baby after someone. I have some ideas, so does Gabe but Gabe's names are stupid so the likeness of me picking one of his is slim. I kind of like the idea of my baby carrying out a legacy. Well, continuing one. Giving the name a new meaning. I don't know. I kind of wish I was named after someone. I think it's cool to have someone so important to your mother or father, that they gave you their name" Leighton expressed and I nodded, understanding where she was coming from.

"What's his full name?" I asked again and she put the onesie back.

"Gabriel Roan Bennett. What about a Lilo and stitch onesie?" She held up the blue onesie

"Think of how cute though! Like them crawling around like Stitch! Please we have to!" She grinned, clutching it to her chest.

"It's your birthday, I'll buy whatever you want. You can't fight me! You paid yesterday" I gave her a knowing look and she glared but didn't argue.

"What size? Do I do a smaller one so they can wear it sooner or a larger one?" She asked, looking through the sizes.

She ended up grabbing a 6 to 8 month old one and she also grabbed an elephant one for herself.

When we left Target, she decided she wanted to go play mini golf for a little while, but Cynthia was going to be joining us which meant we had some time to kill.

"Do you want to go to Caribou?" She asked and I turned to look at her.

"What is that?"

"It's Minnesota's Starbucks" She grinned.

When we arrived, I held the door open for her and she thanked me, walking in.

"Should I get a frap?" She asked, scanning their menu.

"You can do whatever you'd like Leighton" I chuckled, standing behind her as we both figured out what we wanted.

Leighton ended up getting some sort of Strawberry Mango drink, and I got a Cookies and Cream frap.

We sat at a high table and I couldn't help but laugh when I had to help her step up to sit on the stool.

"My bump is in the way!" She frowned, pushing up off my hand to sit on the stool.

"Your bump isn't even that big! You can't already be blaming your baby for your problems" I chuckled.

"Yes I can! It's my baby, I can do whatever I may wish" She cocked an eyebrow, getting situated in the seat.

I sat across from her, sipping my drink, watching her pull out of her phone and she sighed, starting to type.

"I'm starting to regret having his baby" She muttered, turning her phone off.

"Hm?"

"Gabe's being annoying about me being over in Minnesota for my birthday. He wanted me to come and see his mom this week, and I don't get home till the 18th, not to mention he isn't coming to the appointment on the 19th. It's just a shit show trying to make shit work. I try to be accommodating to his life, but he's hard to get a hold of sometimes. He was never like this when we were dating. Then again, he got home late at night from school, so I usually saw him in the mornings or afternoon. I don't know. Feeling frustrated. I don't want to see his side of the family. I know they're my baby's family too, but I feel like a stranger now" She admitted, taking a sip of her drink.

"Why do they feel like strangers?" I decide to ask, thinking that if she was openly telling me stuff, I might as well ride the wave before she shuts down again.

"Um, we were never best friends. His mother always said I was bad for him. She knew my issues, and thought I should leave him. I can't imagine her taking the news well when she learns I have his baby. I'd be lying to you if I told you I wasn't scared she'd try to get custody because of my background. I already know if she could, she'd use it against me somehow. I just don't feel like dealing with it. I'm not the same girl I used to be, but I don't think she will think I can change nor believe me if I told her I have" Leighton shrugged, and I watched her posture drop as she played with her straw mindlessly.

"Do you really think she'd be able to take your baby away?" I asked and Leighton frowned.

"I don't know. I have a history of being unstable I guess. I think it's unfair that shit I did in my teen years will forever be held against me until the day I die. I get it, it was my choice, I could've made better choices.. But I think holding someone's past against them is vicious of humanity."

"What do you mean vicious?"

"I think if someone still has their claws on your neck after you did your time, it's inhumane. It's different depending on what you did, but like.. If you fucked up, and then did everything in your power to correct your wronging's, and you've proven to yourself and to others that you can do it. That you won't make that mistake again, to have someone think your words don't hold any weight can be quite tortuous" Leighton explained "I think all she'd have to do is come up with some sort of proof that I'm a shitty mom, and then say I'm back on like coke or something and that will be the end of it" She muttered and my eyes widened a little.

I could see something was being hidden deep down, and I wanted so badly to know what she was truly afraid of. What she was thinking about at this moment, but all that would come out of my mouth was "You did coke?"

She shrugged and turned to look outside the window. "When do we have to meet up with Cynthia?" She changed the subject and I looked down to see what time it was.

"We are picking her up from Walmart at 3:20, so in about, 15 minutes?" I said and she nodded, glancing down at my screen saver which was our XPLR logo.

"I'm glad you have something to be proud of" Leighton said out of nowhere, causing me to look up at her.

"What do you mean?" I asked and she smiled a little.

"When you nod your head yes, but you wanna say no" She did a little dance in her seat, and my shoulders scrunched up towards my face a little when I chuckled, leaning forward to rest my arms on the table as I drank the Cookies and Cream cooler. "You're a dork"

"I try" She smiled, leaning her cheek on her shoulder before relaxing again.

~

"You're so going down!" Cynthia told Leighton as Leighton picked out her golf ball color.

"That's what she said" Leighton grinned and we all shook our heads, chuckling a little.

Leighton grabbed a light purple ball, Cynthia grabbed a green ball and I grabbed a baby blue ball.

"Lawl you got blue balls" Leighton giggled, eyeing the ball in my hand.

"Hold on, did you just say L O L out loud, and pronounce it like a word and not letters?" I asked, ignoring her joke.

"Yes I did, hope your blue ball finds a hole" She winked, grabbing her putter and walking out the door to enter the course, leaving me stunned.

Today was going to be a long day...

"Do you want the easy or hard course?" Cynthia asked without a beat Leighton made eye contact with me and said "hard" before walking towards the left, acting like she didn't do anything.

I honestly glanced down at my jeans to see if I was erect or not, because I was feeling extremely confused as to why she kept making dick jokes towards me.

Everything was fine down there making me glance around at my surroundings, trying to shake her words out of my head. Cynthia raised her eyebrow at me and I held my hands up in surrender, having no idea what was happening.

"Who's going first?" Leighton asked, stopping at the green turf.

"You're the birthday girl" Cynthia said and Leighton smirked, she dropped her ball and went "least my ball drops" and my eyes widened as I tried to hold back a laugh.

"Leighton do you need to be laid?" Cynthia laughed, and I thanked God there weren't children around.

"Honestly wish I was back in Cali, maybe Silas could help a girl out" She faked pain, holding her hand to her chest.

"Leighton I didn't know mini golf made you so horny" Cynthia laughed and I felt my own cheeks warm up in embarrassment.

What the fuck was happening?

I can't believe this is the conversation we are having whilst surrounded by families.

"Bitch pregnancy does! I can't fucking help it" She whined before lining up with her ball.

"Hope this ball touches the hole" Leighton said before hitting the ball and Cynthia and I's mouths parted in surprise.

This mini golf was going to be more interesting than I thought..

"Leighton!" Cynthia shouted and we saw Leighton's body shake a little, indicating she laughed.

"FUCK" Leighton yelled and our eyes widened again. "Leigh! You're going to get us kicked out!" Cynthia scolded.

"It didn't hit the hole!" She grumbled and we all snickered, shaking our heads.

Cynthia went next and her ball bounced off Leighton's, hitting a rock. "Damnit Leighton! Get out of the way!" Cynthia groused.

"Can someone film me hitting the ball?" I asked and Leighton snickered "Didn't know you were into that Colby"

"Leighton I swear to god-" Cynthia narrowed her eyes at Leighton as I shook my head, letting out a deep exhale.

"I'm sorry! I love dirty jokes, sue me!" Leighton defended, grabbing my phone and I lined up with my ball and hit it with the putter, shocked when I got a hole in one, until I heard Leighton cheer "Colby finally got his blue ball in the hole!" I turned around with a smile on my face, shaking my head as I let out a breathy laugh.

"We can't take you anywhere. Remind me not to grab a blue ball next time" I chuckled, taking my phone back. I posted Leighton's video with a sound up sticker before we moved onto the next course.

"Y'know Colby, they make stuff to help you out" She said with a raised eyebrow and I smirked.

"I got a hole in one, I think you're the one who needs help in more than one way" I laughed and she pursed her lips, closing an eye and squinting at me.

"What the fuck was that?" I laughed and she shrugged, quickly turning around when Cynthia hit her in the leg with the putter. "Leighton you're up"

I felt my phone buzz in my pocket, indicating I had gotten a text.

I saw Leighton's aunt had texted me saying they were heading towards the airport now and I felt my heart race.

"Colby, it's your turn! Leighton sucks at this game" Cynthia teased and Leighton glared.

"I'm usually good at mini golf! Ask Aaliyah! I blame the bump!" She claimed again and Cynthia rolled her eyes.

Leighton kept making adult jokes during the whole game, keeping Cynthia and I on our toes and when we got to the last hole, she lined up her putter and we watched her FINALLY get a hole in one, Cynthia and I cheering.

"About time Leigh!" Cynthia teased and Leighton stuck up her middle finger.

Leighton filmed me doing the last hole, and It took me a couple tries to get the ball in and I heard Leighton go "It's okay Colby, not everyone gets it in the first time" and I think I choked on my spit, coughing as I hit my chest, trying to recover.

"Leighton!" Cynthia scolded.

"You're the dirty minded one!" Leighton defended and Cynthia scoffed.

"Okay Ms. I've made dick jokes the whole mini golf game" Cynthia raised her eyebrows at Leighton, her lips going into a thin line.

"Maybe you're the dirty minded one! I'm just trying to play a wholesome game of mini golf" Cynthia and I laughed, shaking our heads as we gave back the balls and putters.

"I'll tally up the score whilst you go use the bathroom" Cynthia told Leighton and we watched her walk over to the bathrooms before Cynthia started working on the score card whilst I replied to text messages about the plans for later.

I was still on "Keep Leighton away from us" duty, and I was waiting for the text that told me we could head towards Leighton's house.

Leighton's Uncle was picking up her siblings, Aaliyah and River, and I was picking up Sam and Kat in a couple hours to surprise Leighton.

Once Sam knew I was going to be here for Leighton's birthday, he looked at ticket prices and planned a flight to surprise her so we could all be together for her birthday.

A lot of Leighton's family was also coming, so it should be interesting

Cynthia and I stalled Leighton for a few more hours by getting her nails done, and I got a manicure, and let her pick my nail polish color.

By the time I lift, Leighton and I had black and pink nail polish, but her nails were pink with a black design on them, and mine were inverted.

"Leighton likes giving me feminine nails" I chuckled, looking down at my black polish.

"It looks good! Roommates that get matching nails together stay together!" She inspected our nails.

When we got to the front door of Leighton's aunt's house, we walked in and everything looked normal, even though I knew Lexi, Landon and Aaliyah were in here somewhere.

"Where's Leigh?" Leighton's aunt asked and Cynthia told her she went to the bathroom so we all sat down casually.

They were all going to walk out like they've been here the whole time, and I was honestly glad Leighton was using the bathroom now so she didn't pee her pants when she saw them.

I started talking to Leighton's Aunt and Uncle about what we did, petting Dakota whilst we waited for Leigh to come out. I had texted Aaliyah asking where they were hiding, and apparently they were hiding out in the master bedroom whilst we waited for Leighton to come back.

We were mid conversation about Cynthia kicking our ass in mini golf when Leighton walked out and headed towards the kitchen, grabbing a snack and sitting down next to her Uncle.

"Where the fuck did you get a donut, and why didn't I get one?" Melissa asked Leigh in an offended accusatory tone.

"Is it your birthday?" Leighton asked and I texted Aaliyah that it was safe to come in, blocking out Leighton and Melissa's conversation as I waited for them to walk in, and I saw them walk in, Leighton's back to them and they just sat down on the couches and Aaliyah joined Leighton's Uncles conversation with Cynthia and I watched Leighton's jaw drop. "What the hell are you doing here?!" She yelled, getting up and tackling her in a hug.

"I've been here the whole time! Where have you been?" She teased and she smacked her. "I wouldn't miss your birthday for nothing Leigh. Happy birthday Leighton Rae Fox" She hugged her and that was when Leighton noticed her siblings.

"Oh my god!" She squealed, pulling them into her arms as they told her happy birthday.

She asked how they got here, why they were here and how long they were here for. Aaliyah explained that she flew with River and the twins and that they'd be here for the rest of the trip and that we'd fly back together.

We had a couple hours to kill before I had to pick up Sam and Kat, and head to the surprise dinner, so Leighton gathered her family to help her out with the puzzle we had gotten yesterday.

At 5:40, Aaliyah and I left to go pick up Sam and Kat, explaining to Leighton that I was taking Aaliyah to go get something she forgot to bring.

The car ride there, I asked Aaliyah how the flight was, telling her how excited Leigh must've been to have her best friend here.

"So, a little birdie in Cali told me that you have gotten pretty close to Leigh?" Aaliyah asked and I laughed.

"Was it demonic? Because I haven't gotten close to Leighton. We've hung out, and it's been fun, but we've definitely haven't hung out the way you're insinuating"

"Well someone told me you spent a long time together yesterday?" Aaliyah smirked, a gleam in her eye as she watched me.

"Well yeah we've hung out. We're trying to be friends. Are a guy and girl not allowed to hang out without being romantic?" I questioned, feeling the cockiness and protectiveness seeping off of her best friend.

"Colby. Do you like her?" She asked and I felt my heart race. "She's cool, yeah. She's definitely been more fun on this trip than back at home. I think forgiving and forgetting has helped a lot. Just letting the past bullshit go" I spoke with a slight shake in my tone.

"But do you want to date her?" Aaliyah quizzed, eyeing me as I drove.

I shook my head, pulling up into the airport and whilst waiting for Sam and Kat to get their luggage, and I got a text from Cynthia asking how far out we were, and the directions to the restaurant.

"If you do, will you tell me?" She asked and I put my phone down, turning to look at her.

"Do YOU want me to date Leighton?"

"I'm just asking because you're someone new in her life. She's like my little sister, I just want to know what your intentions are with her." She shrugged, unlocking her phone.

"You're acting like a father meeting his daughters boyfriend for the first time" I chuckled and Aaliyah rolled her eyes.

"Look, I want her to be happy. She won't say or show it, but she's struggling. I remember being so mad at you when Leigh first moved in, because you were supposed to be making her life easier, and you only made it harder"

"What do you mean?"

"She was fresh breakup, newly pregnant, and she moved into your place to try and feel a little more like herself. All she wants is to be independent, and she's willing to go to great lengths to prove it to herself that she can do it. I remember the late night calls about how she hated living with you guys, and how she was upset about breaking up with Gabriel, and how she was all alone with this baby.. so it's nice to see you guys getting along. I want her to be happy, that's all"

"Do you know why she didn't tell us she was pregnant right away?"

"Didn't she tell you? She was scared you wouldn't accept her application. She wanted it to be a quick crash type of thing until she figured it out. I don't understand why she didn't just keep staying with me, or living with her parents but hey, that's the Sweden in her. She's very stubborn and independent"

"Leightons Swedish?"

"Leightons a mutt" Aaliyah laughed. "Her moms parents are Italian and Swedish. Her fathers side is Irish. I don't know anything further than that, but Leighton's grandmother is Swedish"

"So you're telling me I have an Italian in my house, and she can't cook?" I acted appalled and Aaliyah laughed, shaking her head.

"Leigh isn't a bad cook, she just isn't fancy Italian restaurant ready. Her mom tried to teach Leighton to cook, but she was more concerned about learning art from her dad. When Leigh first found out she was pregnant, all she would eat was Potstickers. Thankfully they were easy to make, and they wouldn't burn down my kitchen! When we were kids, we were making some sort of breakfast food and we started a fire. I remember just hearing a bunch of Italian yelling, having no idea what was going on as everyone panicked" She laughed

"So have you known Leighton long?" I asked, pulling up my texts with Sam to see how far along they were in their leaving the airport process.

"I have. She's been my best friend for years. Why I'm so protective over her. Before she left for this trip, she found out her baby daddy is seeing one of their old friends, so I'm kind glad you are with her to keep her mind off of it" Aaliyah explained and my phone chimed, Sam telling me they were finding the exit doors.

"What do you mean?"

"Her ex is dating Piper, who was actually really close to Leigh before the breakup. I don't know what happened, but she hasn't heard from any of their friends. Piper was the one that Leigh would hang with when Gabe was doing guy stuff or whatever. I don't know. I was never that close to any of them. I just know a few of them Leighton cut off when she found out she was pregnant, because they did stuff that Leigh didn't feel comfortable being around whilst pregnant"

Before I could dig further in the topic, Sam knocked on the window, asking me to open the trunk for them.

The whole ride back with Sam and Kat, all I could think about was how Leighton had a more interesting past than I expected.

* * * *

I don't know what that ending is. I had to delete the original ending to rework the story so..

Written on: Feb 21st, 22nd, 24th, April 1st  2022

Word Count: 5414

Part Twenty Eight

#colbybrock #samgolbach #colby brock one shot #solby #samandcolby #youtubers #fanfiction #unbroken #wattpad #writing #creativewriting

[the-ce-horniest-book-club]

Last Chance Prompt Fest

Today is the day that our Last Chance Prompt Fest starts.

To take part, you don’t need to claim a prompt through us at all, you just find a prompt you like, create what you want to create and then tag us @the-ce-horniest-book-club​ and use the hashtag “CE HBC Last Chance Prompt Fest”. You can also DM your link to us to ensure we see it.

The event starts today, Friday, August 27th and ends next Friday, September 3, 2021.

Once the event has ended, we will answer the ask for the prompts that received creations. We will also have a masterlist for everything created as well.

Who can we create for?

You can create stuff for Steve Rogers, Chris Evans or any of Chris’s 18+ characters.

What can we create?

While the CE HBC is primarily a writing community, these events are to encourage creators of all types. So for this event, you can write, make moodboards, create a playlist, make a video or whatever you are inspired to create based on the prompts under the keep reading.

All of the prompts are listed below the cut and it does not matter how many things are created for each prompt.

Chris Evans Prompts

Could you do one with chris where the reader is eating something delicious and Chris hears them and tries to distract them with smutty things but the reader picks the treat over Chris. (Just had yams that tasted like my grandma used to make years ago, and I’ll pick that over Chris right now lol)

It’s hot AF where I live and we all know Chris doesn’t like the hot temps… so maybe something about trying to beat the heat

How many rounds was that? Four? God, we’re about to break our own record. With Chris? 😍

That’s a lot of sass for someone who ruined my sheets and still hasn’t apologized. With Chris?

Prompt: being friends with Chris and helping and supporting him with ASP too. When the news hit that Biden won your together and after squealing, he just grabs and kisses you.

Chris Evans brushing his heavily pregnant wife’s hair

Chris introducing you to his family for the first time

Readers reaction when Chris has to shave off his beard for a role and doesn’t tell her?

Hey i had an idea. she faked her orgasm because she has trouble cum.  Chris finds out and is angry because she hasn’t said anything and doubts his abilities?  then he brings her to orgasm

Chris playing Christmas songs on the piano while you wrap presents or something where he keeps you company while you’re doing something else

Ari Levinson Prompts

Cowboy Ari Levinson helping you out after he finds you on his ranch

Curtis Everett Prompts

Trying to have quiet sex with Curtis behind a curtain.

Frank Adler Prompts

Frank Adler gets a new neighbor - reader who is just as intelligent as his family and they like each other right away.

Nick Vaughn Prompts

Nick Vaughan keeping you company on the streets of New York

Steve Rogers Prompts

“I’m your Captain and you follow my orders!” “Aye, aye Cap’n!” “I said Captain, not pirate.”

“Hey Steve, what does a deaf gynecologist do?” “I don’t know.” “He reads lips.”

How about a drunk drabble based off of Right Girl Wrong Time by Jon Langston with Steve and Peggy

someone should write a steve and bucky threesome with a reader

“Yeah sex is great but have you just ever wanted to rub yourself over that fucking beard of Steve’s?”

I have a prompt for you. Steve has fallen in love with the Motown sound since Sam has played most of the genre for him. He has gone shopping, or gone for coffee and he hears you sing a song from the Supremes and is instantly intrigued. Have fun seducing him with music. https://youtu.be/HXGz8i0I2L0

It’s the first Christmas Steve has spent with y/n

Reader making Steve a heart cake for Valentine’s Day ❤️

Multiple Options Prompts

Can I get the following prompt with Steve, Colin, or Jensen? “In ancient Greece, throwing an apple was done to declare one’s love.” “How do I love thee, let me count the ways? Thump, thump, thump.” “So the mild concussion means you love me?”

Could I get “I see that you have your legal name listed as Y/n’s Daddy. That’s incorrect. You’re legal name is what’s on your Drivers Licence.” With any of Chris’ characters please?

SFW Prompts

For Chris or one of his characters, there is only one bed and they got to sleep far apart but wake up cuddling. Bonus points if they don’t hate it.

“Just tell why you did it!” “Because I’m in love with you, okay?!”

How about they’re roommates and “just friends” who develop feelings for each other

“You always say that, but I’d only see you for a day or two until you have to fly out again.”

“You don’t have to say anything, if you don’t want. I just thought you should know.”

i have been in love with you, dumbass

“If you don’t hug me right now I think I might fall apart.”

I have these… powers raging around inside me, and I have no clue how to control them.

“Hey, it’s cold. Light a fire or something. I swear, you’re a cold blooded reptile.”

that guy in the gorilla costume has been following us for the past ten blocks.

going to a masquerade ball

“So, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me.”

“I look at you and I think, ‘sunshine. Literal sunshine.’ It’s annoying.”

“Don’t you dare throw that snowba-, goddammit!”

“What’s with the box?”

“I’m not jealous.”

“It’s not like I love you or anything.”

Merlin quote prompt: Nobility is defined by what you do, not by who you are

“Why do you keep pushing me away? I know you love me.”

“I want to go home.” “And I want to go to the moon. It ain’t happening sweetheart. Time to accept that.”

“I just want you to know I love you and I hope these roses prove that to you.”

Prompt: “if you steal all the blankets I’m going to put my cold feet on you.”

“What have we here? Bed: unslept in. Hair in… missionary disarray. And yesterday’s dress with today’s shame all over it.” Gossip Girl

Every time I’m in the same room with her, I can’t decide if I want to pick a fight with her or push her up against a wall and kiss the fuck out of her. - Falling for My Enemy by Claire Kingsley

“The worst thing is, that even after all of that, I’m still in love with you.”

NSFW Prompts

“Wet pussy is the best. I can’t get enough of the juices dripping from my mouth.”

“She beauty, she grace, I want her pussy on my face.”

“Sheathing my cock inside you feels like a jam donut being torn in half. Delicious and mind blowing.”

Twist on quarantine haircuts: couple helping each other with pubic hair maintenance

“I don’t know if you’re looking for Aztek gold down there, but if you don’t hurry up and fuck my brains out I’ll do it my damn self!”

“Have you ever noticed how eating a hot dog is similar to giving deepthroat?” “No but thanks, I don’t want to eat this now.”

Babe I can’t sleep. I know you just woke me up. Wanna fuck? I’m awake!!!

“I don’t know who you think you’re talking to but I’m about to punish that sassy mouth!”

“I love your longish hair baby. Finally got something to pull while you’re between my legs devouring me.”

Holiday Prompts

“Great, now I have to re-hide your Christmas gifts.”

“I’m not going to kiss you under the mistletoe.”

“The best way to spread Christmas cheer is singing loud for all to hear.”

“What are you doing?” “Hiding from carolers.”

“Santa’s handwriting looks suspiciously like yours.”

“Why does the house smell like a cinnamon roll threw up?”

“Are you Santa? Because I’d sit on your lap.”

“YES I BOOBY TRAPPED THE PRESENTS BECAUSE YOU DO THIS EVERY FUCKING YEAR”

“What the hell kind of Charlie Brown Christmas tree did you buy?”

“It looks like the North Pole threw up.”

i may or may not have gotten tangled up in the tinsel.

“If we don’t have this damn tree up before the end of the night, I’m going to kill you.”

“I’m going to tell Santa to give you coal.”

“It’s an advent calendar. You’re supposed to open one square a day, not eat half the chocolate in a sitting.”

“Why is there mistletoe in every room of the apartment?”

I got a little too drunk off of egg nog and vodka and you look so pretty in this light, and I most definitely want to kiss you right now, best friends or not.

we were going to a Christmas party but fuck if you don’t just look sinful in red, and you know what? Fuck that Christmas party.

Dad!chris (or one of his characters) and his kids at Christmas

“You’ve never had a New Year’s kiss?”

Spending your first Valentine’s Day together with any character

#chris evans #ce hbc last chance prompt fest #the ce hbc

[the-wotog-collection]

some new(ish) kids

“new” as in they didn’t exist yet when we last posted. so some of them are at least 9 months old. anyway!

list under the cut:

CAS

- they’re a half-elf monk! but now that i think about it it would be kinda funny if they had a level or two in rogue

- honestly? they’re a frat boy, but one who drinks respect women (and everyone, really) juice

- complete thembo. they have a -1 int, but +5 dex and +3 cha so who’s really winning here

- seriously when i say they’re a thembo i mean it. cas can dodge bullets all day but they don’t know that a tomato is a fruit

- they’re a people person and respectful and are very much work hard play hard. i love them

PUMPKIN

- now this is a bastard right here

- he/they tiefling rogue. yes they stole that crown what about it

- very much like mollymauk tealeaf i’m not gonna lie. they’ll charm the pants off of you and run away with your whole coin pouch

- smth i love about pumpkin is 1) their last name is pye 2) they have aliases bc in nearly every town they’ve been in there’s a warrant out for his arrest

- pumpkin pye (persona), a flirty rapscallion. if they had to pick one alias to stay as, this would be that one

- apple pye, a quiet sweetheart. kinda country bumpkin-esque

- pecan pye, taciturn but honest (as he can be while using an alias and on the run from the law and generally up to no good) and a hard worker

 - underneath all the layers? he’s kinda sad and lonely, still a flirt and a rapscallion but considerably less, and sometimes he just wants to stay in bed instead of going out and getting into all kinds of trouble

- oh also! he’s self conscious about his freckles, and usually uses some kind of makeup to cover them up if hell brain is acting up/he’s causing trouble

TENJIN

- i’ll be honest i do not remember if i still have their picrew

- i do nvm

- this is tenjin! iirc they’re a drow enchanter (homebrew class my cousin made) but ig in a legal game they’d be a divination wizard

- he’s such a sweetie, oml

- fun fact he has autism! mostly nonverbal and gets overwhelmed super easily, and has a whole pouch full of trinkets that they fidget and stim with

- baby. baby boy

- really fun to play actually

BEE

- she’s here to kick names and take ass, and she’s all out of names

- a whole lesbian. most of why she does what she does is to protect pretty girls

- human (shocker, i know) cleric of a storm god that i forgot to write down

- anyway!

- do no harm but take no shit is her motto. her methods may be borderline illegal, but hey, as long as the thing gets done it’s fine

- usually.

- basically her only method is swing a bat around until people talk and if the bat hits anything/anyone, well. that’s not her business

- oh yeah her bat. it’s infused with electricity and deals lightning damage as well as bludgeoning. it’s sick as hell

- she’s pretty rad

RAY

- everyone needs a weed druid

- okay but seriously. they eat every plant they come across to 1) figure out what they do (they have insanely high con dw) and 2) for magical power

- are they high most of the time? yes. are they really sad actually? also yes

- they aren’t religious, but they do worship the deity their childhood best friend (turned lover, yes) worshipped

- i might talk about that more later :)

- anyway they’re super chill and also one of the few drows i have, iirc

WALKER

- okay now we’re starting to catch up

- his name isn’t actually walker, but it’s what everyone calls him so that’s what he goes by

- he/they (wow theres a lot of he/theys huh) fallen aasimar gloom stalker ranger

- basically think of the edgiest anime boy you can imagine and go “what if he went to therapy”

- he’s such a good boy! yes they still do the adventuring thing, but make a point of going to therapy every week

- they’re making some great progress :)

- while he’s basically a witcher and gets treated like one (i.e. poorly), he just wants to settle down somewhere quiet when there’s no more evil in the world to grow vegetables where the only one around to judge him for being mute is his crow

- the picrew didn’t have a crow so please pretend that’s what the pigeon is

VAL

- valor is a tiefling fighter who came into existence bc i rewatched netflix castlevania and was super gay for striga so i made a character inspired by her

- also has autism, but in addition, she has ptsd from her days in the royal army. she’s seen some shit yall

- isn’t very good with social interactions, a lot of stuff goes right over her head and she’s just awkward as hell, but get her talking about her special interest (military tactics) and she will talk for hours. please let her

- fun fact she met her wife bc she was fishing in a bog trying to catch dinner and fished out a wholeass lady instead

- she’s buff as hell. she could use literally anything as a weapon and make it hurt

UNNAMED WIZARD

- i don’t have a name for them yet BUT i do know that they’re a bitch

- yet another he/they, this time we have a neutral evil wizard who doesn’t care who gets hurt as long as they get results for their experiments

- think albedo genshinimpact but with almost no morals

- yes he’d cast ninth level spells on his party if he was researching something. no he would not feel remorse. probably

- idk i haven’t fleshed him out yet i just know that he’s a bitch

MOUSE

- finally! my favorite character on this list

- this is maisy, but she’s so tiny that everyone calls her mouse

- when i say tiny i mean she’s a halfling and also seven years old. she’s fucking little

- little human druid girl who basically raised herself in the forest and can & will make friends with literally any animal she comes across

- her arcane focus is her flower crown, which also has berries growing on it. they grow back every time she picks one to give to her friends :)

- she’s so fucking pure oh my god. actual cinnamon roll and everything that’s good in this world

- her rat’s name is rat. he’s her friend :)

- and also dog sized compared to her it’s hilarious. she has a little leash for him made of vines and particularly spry twigs

- have some bonus art bc oh my god cutie

#mod ash #oh boy here we go #cas #pumpkin pye #pumpkin #tenjin #bee #ray #walker #valor #val #maisy #mouse #art tag? art tag #ash doodles #that only applies to the art of cas. it's one of the few pieces i'm proud of klajdshlj

[supernovaodessa]

Crayola Asks for the lovely @supernovaodessa

Spring Green: How do you relax when you’re stressed?

Cotton Candy: What is your favorite dessert?

Dandelion: What’s a pet peeve of yours?

Kitten Gray: Do you have any pets? If so, describe them. 

Petal Pink: Describe your fashion sense as well as what you’re wearing right now.

😘🖤

Hiii @solitarypersephone 😘

Sorry for responding later than I wanted to! Life fucked me over for a couple days and didn't even have the decency to use any lube. The audacity, I tell you. But I digress. Big hugs and air smooches for you, beautiful! I really hope you're feeling better now 😚 Give BooBoo, Luka, Bean, Zeppelin, Creedence and Otis pets and cuddles for me. Same for Abigail and Abraham 🥰

Spring Green: When I'm stressed, the thing that relaxes me no matter what is lighting some candles or incense and watching either the first season of Gilmore Girls, or The Nanny. And cuddling up under the blanket with my kitty, Phoebe. That, or an orgasm always helps 😄

Cotton Candy: I honestly couldn't pick just one, so I'll have to give you my top 3. That'd be chocolate lava cake, sticky toffee pudding or cherry pie. Which honestly all sound good right now, especially with pms 😅

Dandelion: When people say "well someone else has it worse/ it could be worse" when you're going through something. It just breaks my heart. It shouldn't have to be a competition. It doesn't negate what you're going through and I think people have every right to feel, no matter how big or small the situation is. I hope that makes sense!

Kitten Gray: I have a red patch tabby named Phoebe. She turns 9 May 1st 🥺 She's honestly my best friend and my baby. I adopted her from a kill shelter when she was 9 months old. Actually found her the day she was supposed to be euthanized. She had been rescued from an abusive animal hoarding situation. I remember rushing to the shelter and meeting her. I picked her up and she made biscuits on my arm, gave me lovey eyes and marked my face. This was her first night home with me:

This is her now, politely asking for second dinner lol.

Her favorite thing in the world is cuddles. Especially tummy rubs. (Don't ask why. I have no heckin clue🤷🏻‍♀️I think she forgot the memo that she's a cat) She smells like a combo of cinnamon toast crunch, and what the air smells like when it rains. She loves cheese, bacon, lettuce and especially olives. My favorite thing about her is how she talks. She meows, of course. But she has this way of....shall we say, quacking. And it melts my heart every time.

I also have a family of squirrels that have been in my backyard for years. My favorite one is the little one. I named him Gus Gus. I feed them apples and carrots every chance I get.

Petal Pink: My fashion sense is all over the place, babes 😅 I love all black outfits. If not black, anything emerald, burgundy or khaki/olive toned. Lace. Thigh high leather or suede boots. Cozy, oversized sweaters. Ohh and lingerie pieces mixed in with normal clothing when you can get away with it. As of right now, I'm donning an oversized dark gray henley. Basically a nighty at this point lol. But it's not that hard when you're only 5'2''. That, and some perfume. That's about it for bedtime 😊

Thank you for these asks, darling! You made me smile tonight 💗💗💗💗💗

#asks #mutuals #lovely mutuals being lovely #personal

[loudsuitlover]

Doctor Harry XXXII. The End of the Road

A/N: This is it folks! The end of the road... I want to thank you all for every message and for that, especially my love anon (now not anon anymore) because seriously you’ve been the wind blowing on my sail. 

Also like I’ve said, I’m all in for blurbs into Harry’s and Indie’s life together so I might surprise you with some when you least expect them ;) Thank you thank you thank you 

BLUE’S POV

My hands are sticky and trembling as I wait on the line. The dim lights really give the café such a cosy sense to it and the dark brown of the furniture and the bricks also make it look like you were inside an auburn tree. It also smells delicious, like cookies and cinnamon and berries deliciously mixed with the strong scent of coffee.

My heart stops beating as I stand before her with just the desk and the vintage looking cashier between us. She hasn’t yet looked at me when she asks.

“What would you like to have, dea-?”

Her tone dies down when her hazel eyes finally set on me and mine investigate hers as I swallow the lump in my throat.

“Indie.” She whispers.

I give her a timid smile. Dylan’s mum calls someone named Molly and asks her to take care of the cashier as she comes out from behind the desk. She’s wearing an apples-pattern apron tied around her waist and her hair, shorter now than ever, is barely coming out of a low ponytail on the back of her neck. She lets out what could be described as a nervous chuckle when she stands closer to me. I can tell she doesn’t know how to greet me so I give her a hug. Her arms wrap around me and I feel her sighing against my chest.

“Let me get us a cup of coffee and a muffin.”

I stand there watching her work and hold the cute lilac plate with the huge muffin when she tells me and she takes both our coffee cups with tiny plates underneath to a table near one of the windows. It’s raining outside but it’s nice to watch and hear the rain from inside the café. The fire is lit so it’s nice and warm inside too.

“The place looks lovely, Amalia.”

“Thank you.” She smiles. “You look stunning.”

I smile at her before I add some sugar to my coffee and stir it with my teaspoon. She does the same.

“It’s very nice to see you. This muffin right here is called Indie Blue.” She grins. “It’s got vanilla and blueberries.”

I nod and smile at her but I’m sure she can tell my eyes get teary. I don’t deserve this. The fact that after three years, Dylan’s mother still makes a muffin and names it after me, when all I’ve done is… Move on just breaks my heart.

“How are you, love?” She sets her hand over mine. “Tell me about Med school.”

“I’m good.” I lie. “Med school is fine. It’s getting harder every year but I like it more every year too so that’s good. I feel like we’re all growing up so fast though. I mean Olivia’s leaving, Jason too…”

It almost surprises me how I can still talk to her as if we were family. I guess in a way we are. We went through the loss of Dylan together. She helped me and I think I helped her too, so I think we will always be somehow connected.

“Where are they leaving?”

She grabs a fork and eats some of the muffin after she took the paper of it and I eye the fork she set in front of me. Her kind eyes don’t leave mine and she looks so much like Dylan, even though the colour of their eyes is different, the way they look is the same so I can’t look into her eyes for too long. They look at you as if you were the most interesting person in the room, it doesn’t matter what you’re saying, you can talk about garden dwarfs and still be interesting to them.

“Olivia’s going to Paris. She’s very excited. She wants to be a gynaecologist and she got an internship on the maternal unit so she’s very happy. And Jason’s going to the States. He’s only going to be gone for three months, thank God.” I chuckle.

“Not long.” She grins.

“What about you? How are you and Robert?”

“We’re good, yeah. Robert’s back on the road. He went back last year and I’ve been good, pretty busy with the café and the organisation.”

My eyes drop to the muffin between us when she mentions that and I take a forkful and bring it to my mouth.

“I’m also babysitting now. D’you remember the Holts next door?” I nod. “Well, they had a baby and I stay with her sometimes.”

“Nice. I bet she’s cute.”

“She is so cute, so chubby too.” She giggles.

I giggle and fear the moment when our conversation will die enough so that she would ask me why I came. I don’t need a reason to come see her and I could always say I just wanted to catch up with her, but this woman knows me like my Mum does and I know she knows there’s something I want to tell her.

She asks me about my Mum too but I know they still talk and she tells me about Caroline, Jess and Sean. She keeps in touch with them too and it’s nice to hear life’s good for them. Sometimes I’m sad I lost contact with them after Dylan’s loss but it was just too hard to see them. It was like I couldn’t stop thinking about who was missing. 

“How are you, really, Blue?” She asks.

I know what she means. I take a deep breath. There goes nothing. 

“I met someone.”

My voice croaks and I didn’t know the tears were so close to falling until they roll down my cheeks. I wipe them away and try my best not to sob and even though her eyes are teary too, her hand rests on mine again and her thumb caresses the back of my hand.

“I’m very happy for you.”

My eyebrows meet and I shake my head. I knew she would be. 

“I just wish I could talk to him. I want to tell him I haven’t forgotten about him. I never will…” I let the tears roll down my cheeks. “I love him but… I’ve just been… So lonely and it’s been so hard and I wasn’t looking for him, he just… Showed up and… I don’t know, I guess you’re the closest thing I have to Dylan now… And I needed to take this off my chest, to explain myself to you, I… I wish he hadn’t died, I wish that every day, but he did and I have to stay here and live without him and I thought I had to that alone but… Maybe I don’t?”

“Indie, Robert and I want nothing more than for you to be happy. We love you. And so did Dylan, I know he did, but like you said, you have to live, darling.” She smiles. “He’d be happy.”

I can’t hold it in anymore so I hide my face behind my hands and full on cry. She brings a chair next to mine and wraps her arm around my shoulders and just let me cry like she has done so many times before.

“I miss him.” I confess. “There are so many things I want to tell him every day, you know. I want him to see that Coco’s in love, that I got an A in Paediatrics, that Rio is working at the bank.”

“He is seeing that.” Her arm squeezes me closer to her. “He’s taking care of us. I know you miss him, honey. So do I, but he would want us to go on.”

“Yes, I know.”

“He would be very proud of you. I hope you know that.”

“I just want him to know I love him, I always will, even if I love someone else. It doesn’t change who he is to me.”

“I know.”

She gives me some tissues and I cry over her son’s absence as she rests her cheek on my head and caress my arm. She’s always been a lot stronger than I am and she’s always been a rock to rest upon when I felt I couldn’t go on anymore. When I calm down enough, she sits back in front of me and gives me a small smile.

“Will you tell me about him?”

I can see him in her and somehow by telling her, I feel like I’m confessing it to him too.

“There’s not much to tell now” I raise my eyebrows “it didn’t work out.”

“What? Why?”

I shake my head and shrug as if I didn’t know why when I perfectly know what happened. I tell her a little about him though and she asks mum-like questions and even laughs at some of the stories I tell her.

After about an hour of chatting, we both call it a day and I go home to my dad and siblings. I didn’t tell them the real reason why Harry didn’t come. I told them he eventually got caught up with work and if they didn’t believe it they pretended they did.

The Golden Girls have been checking on me daily but even though I’m heartbroken, I’m somehow calmed. I talked to Amalia and I told Harry what I needed to tell him so I guess I just have this feeling of having been honest with everyone and I don’t feel guilty anymore.

I’m brushing my hair on my pyjamas after the shower when Ollie calls.

“Hi, babe” she chirps. “How is everything at Capitol? How’s your dad?”

“Good.” I tell her. “Yeah, he’s doing great. You wouldn’t tell he had an aortic dissection.”

We both chuckle.

“I knew it. Your dad’s strong like a bull.” She giggles.

“How are you?”

“I’m good. I got a call from Paris. Do you remember I did the interview on Skype?”

“Yes, I do.”

“Well, they just called me.” She sighs. “I got it.”

So she’s officially leaving. Oh, man, I’m going to miss her so much.

“Indie?”

“Yes.” I get my shit together. “Well, that’s great, Ollie! I’m so happy for you! I won’t lie to you, I’m going to miss you like crazy but I’m happy for you.”

“Maybe you don’t have to miss me…” She says.

“What? What do you mean?”

“I rejected it.”

“WHAT? Where does this change of heart comes from?”

“I don’t know… I’ve just been thinking… Paris is so far away…”

Oh, no. She’s as head over heels in love as I am… It must be the time for us Golden Girls…

“You did it for Mario, didn’t you?”

There’s a certain silence on her end but I can hear her breathing.

“Maybe.”

I smile.

“So you guys are like together for real?”

“Yes… Aren’t we?”

I chuckle.

“Oh, no, don’t ask me! Did you two talk about this? Does he know you took the internship down for him?”

“Of course not! I didn’t do it for him! Olivia Bassot doesn’t reject internships for anyone! I did it for myself.”

“Because you want to be with him.”

“That’s right but still it was for me, not for him.”

“Okay, yeah, great.” I laugh. “May I know what made you change your mind?”

She sighs.

“Actually, I don’t quite know. It’s just when they told me I got it, I wasn’t happy, you know? So I thought wait, I don’t have to go, I don’t have to prove anything to anybody.”

“That’s right.” I smile. “I won’t lie, Ollie, I’m fucking happy.”

She laughs.

“Me too, babe. Now I gotta go, I’m telling Mario tonight. Wish me luck.”

“What do you mean wish me luck? He’s gonna be thrilled!”

“He better.” She laughs. “Anyway, gotta go. Love you!”

“Love you.”

Well, at least there are some good news. Wrapped up on my thick woollen stay at home cardigan, I make my way downstairs where I guess my family awaits. Rio’s reading a book near the fireplace and Coco’s walking towards the door.

“Are you expecting someone?” She asks me.

I shake my head and stare at the door from the bottom of the stairs. My dad shows up at the kitchen door and tells me he made pumpkin and sweet potato cream and I’m about to thank him when my sister opens the door.

“Blue, look who’s here!”

My mouth and my eyes open wide. My heart beats hard and fast against my ribs and my breathing stops until I feel tingling all over my skin.

It’s Harry.

“Hello, Blue.”

I deflate like a balloon when I hear his voice and my breathing resumes. I almost have to hold on to the railing of the stairs so as not to fall. There he is, calm and unfaced, standing right next to my sister and looking stunning on blue jeans and a dark brown sweater underneath his opened grey coat. His hair is a messy mane of curls on top of his head but his warm signature dimply smile is nowhere to be found. That’s the only reason that I don’t run towards him and kiss him.

Hello, Blue. No hello, baby or hello, love. Hello, Blue. Anyone here in Capitol could have said that… But he’s here. He’s cold, but he’s here. That’s already something and I don’t know why I’m complaining.

“Oh, Harry!” My dad walks towards him and offers him his hand. “It’s nice to meet you. Blue said you got caught up with work.”

His green eyes search for mine before he looks back at my dad. I don’t know what he’s thinking.

“I was indeed caught up with work but… I got off the hook last minute.”

“That’s great! Isn’t that great, Blue? But get in here!” My dad urges me. “Greet him, honey.”

I clear my throat and run a hand through my hair as I walk closer to him. Harry doesn’t take his eyes off me but he’s seemingly unaffected by my presence. I’m afraid of his greeting. If he flinches I might cry. I don’t know whether he read my note or not but if he did, I don’t know why he’s acting so cold and if he didn’t, I don’t know why he’s here.

Coco’s closed the door after him and I see a small trolley behind him. My heart warms up at the thought that he came to stay. When I get to him, the habit takes the best of me and my lips search for his but he discreetly pulls his face away and instead gives me a hug. I don’t know if he did it out of respect for my dad or because he didn’t really want to kiss me. Something tells me it’s the second.

His hug is short and superficial and when he pulls away I feel like crying. His green eyes avoid staring into my own and I wonder if he came all the way here just to torture me with his coldness and distance. As I turn around, I see Rio standing a few feet behind me.

“This is my brother, Rio. Rio, this is Harry.”

“Hi, mate.” Rio shakes his hand and Harry gives him a lips closed smile.

When my brother pulls apart, Coco slips her thin, woollen covered body and gives Harry a hug. He gives her a dimply smile and I feel jealousy burning on my belly. What is he doing? That smile was for me!

“I’ll put another plate on the table.” Dad smiles.

My siblings follow him inside the dining room and Harry and I both hear the drawers opening and closing and plates and glasses being placed on the table.

“How did you know where my dad lives?” I whisper to him.

“I asked Olivia.”

With that he walks inside the dining room and I hear him asking Coco how he can help. Wait, so Olivia knew he was coming and she didn’t tell me anything? I literally just talked to her!

At least during dinner I get to sit next to him even though I doubt it was his choosing but rather where he was supposed to sit. I feel clumsy with my cutlery as I try to cut the steak. My Dad’s been asking Harry and me questions all dinner and Harry’s answered those about himself but has let me answer the ones about our relationship so he doesn’t have to tell everyone we’re nothing now, I guess.

My dad brings homemade yoghurt to the table and even after the sweetening effect of my dad’s dessert, Harry’s still distant and cold but he only punishes me. He’s all smiles and cavalry to my family and even Rio seems to like him.

“And Harry” Rio asks “do you know my sister Coco’s boyfriend?”

Coco rolls her eyes and blushes and Harry chuckles.

“Yes, I do.” He nods. “His brother works with me. They’re nice guys, good people.”

“Cool.” Rio nods. “Podrías traerlo tú también a casa, Coco.” (You could bring him home too, Coco.)

“Sí, claro. Harry es mayor que tú. No es lo mismo. El está a salvo porque no podrías con él, pero Guido tiene 21, como Blue. Te lo comerías con papas.” (Yeah, right. Harry is older than you. It’s not the same. He’s safe because you couldn’t take him but Guido is 21, likewise Blue. He’d have nothing to do.)

I don’t think Harry’s understand most of it, but I’m sure he got the part of Harry’s older than you and Guido’s 21 and he’s smart enough to figure out the rest.

Harry’s phone screen illuminates as he gets a text and my heart gets warm when I realize he at least hasn’t change his lock screen photo. I can’t help the grin.

“You didn’t send me that picture of the wedding.” I half whisper to him.

“Did you see them?”

“So there’s more than the one…”

He lets out a little giggle that warms my insides and makes me feel like a teenager.

“You meant my lock screen, right?”

I nod.

“Who took it?”

“The photographer. I think he had a thing for you.” He smirks. “He took lots.”

I look down at my empty yoghurt bowl and smirk. I think that was progress. Baby steps, but it’s better than the cold stare and the minimum hug he gave me when he got here.

After dinner, Dad moves the party to the living room and we all take seats on the couches and the armchairs by the fireplace. Harry doesn’t pay attention to me but my family doesn’t find it weird, mostly because they haven’t really seen us together before, but also because Dad and Rio seem so invested into learning about him. They find him as interesting as I do and I think Harry is at ease too, despite all the questioning. I can tell by his body language that he’s grateful for the way my family welcome him. His eyes avoid mine, but I can tell there’s gratitude on them too and I wonder if he’d ever look at me like he used to.

Dad gets up from his armchair and walks towards the record player and Rio and him start a conversation about which album to play. I take it as my chance to have Harry to myself so I jump from my spot on the coach and sit down next to him. His eyes warn me not to sit too close and most importantly not to touch him, so I keep my hands to myself despite my yearning. 

“Are you okay?” I whisper. 

“Yes, I am. How are you?”

His interest both surprises and softens me and my heart flutters with hope.

“I’m happy you came.” I confess.

“I’m happy you invited me.”

His words are conciliatory but his tone is still dry and I can’t read his expression. His body is tensed though.

“Why didn’t you tell me you were coming?”

“I never said I wasn’t.”

I snort. He’s impossible. We both fall into silence after that and I wait for him to explain himself but he never does so I speak again.

“Are you going to talk to me?”

“I am talking to you now.”

“Harry, please.” My bottom lips come out of its own accord. “Can you stop torturing me?”

His jaw clenches and he looks ahead, away from me. I swallow my willing to yell at him and look down at my feet. I feel belittled and abandoned and I hate that he’s so close and so far away.

“I… Did you read my note?”

Only then he tilts his neck so he’s facing me. His green eyes look at me and for the first time since he arrived, I can see the battle inside him. I can see the part of him who wants to forgive me, maybe there’s even a part that already has; but he’s still holding back. I can work with that, I can respect that.

“I am sorry. I already wrote that to you but I can say it out loud in front of my family if you want. I’ll do anything, please. Just tell me what you want me to do and I’ll do it.”

“I don’t want you to do that or to keep apologizing, even.”

“Then what do you want?”

I watch him blink. I can tell he’s flabbergasted. He probably wasn’t expecting this behaviour from me and quite frankly neither was I but after talking to Amalia and after getting the peace I needed, I need him to know I would really do anything to take back all the pain I’ve caused him.

“I want you to be fully honest with me and to be yourself for real.”

“Pardon?”

“No more lies, no more hiding things.” He whispers. “You tell me the truth and you tell me what worries you and you tell me when you’re scared and you tell me why. I’ll do the same. I think it’s a fair deal.”

I swallow. I can do that. I meant it when I said I’d do anything. If that’s what he wants, then that’s what he’ll get. I just hope he won’t run away when he hears it all.

“When are you planning on saying it to my face?”

I almost laugh. Is he serious? He came all the way here just to hear me say that? I didn’t think he would want to hear me say it with such fervour. Isn’t it obvious? Is it not enough to show it? Is it not best to show it? I would rather have someone never telling me they love me but showing me every day that the other way around.

But okay, I can do that too. If he wants me to say it that bad, then I’ll say it… But in my own way. From the corner of my eye, I can see my dad’s still busy with the records and Rio’s back on his book and Coco’s on the phone. No one’s paying attention to us. So I get closer to him and I act brave despite the fear of his rejection. He frowns but he gets visibly nervous and he doesn’t flinch and he doesn’t pull away so I keep getting closer, like a kitten, and his eyes drop to my mouth. My lips look for his and Harry relaxes his face and for a moment it seems his guard is down and his lips part. His pupils are dilated and his eyes are set on my lips.

“Blue! I got an A on my essay!” Coco celebrates.

Fuck you, Coco! I mean- good for you but fuck your timing! Harry pulls away from me and I straighten my back despite the way my chest deflates. I give my sister a smile.

“Enhorabuena, hermana.” (Congratulations, sister.)

Dad and Rio congratulate her and ask her on her essay, as if they would understand anything of her engineering, and I try to gain back my reconciliation with Harry but he pulls back this time.

“Wait, Blue.” He whispers. “I’ve promised myself I wouldn’t touch you until you figure your shit out.”

Great. That could take years, genius.

It shouldn’t make me so frustrated. I remind myself of a dog in heat or one of those men that get mad when women reject them at bars. I frown and straighten my back so I sit farther away from him, but after a second I can’t take it anymore.

I stand up and without saying a word I make my way upstairs. Harry’s been all talkative to my family and ignoring me all night, they can show him to his room now or give him conversation. I don’t care anymore.

When I climb the stairs, I open the door to the balcony and make my way outside. It’s freezing out here before the mountains, so I turn on the heater and wrap one of the blankets on the basket between the couches around my body. Looking to the side, I can see my part of the balcony, the one that belongs to my room, and I remember last time I was here, when I sat there with Jason and we talked and talked about Harry and about Dylan and about the same fucking story once and again.

It was all for nothing. After all, it was all for nothing. I tortured myself with the thought that I was leaving Dylan behind, I looked at myself in the mirror and felt guilty and couldn’t recognize myself and all for what? All to be now sitting down all alone because the man who turned everything into a fucking mess doesn’t even want to touch me.

I hear the balcony door opening and my sister’s soft voice almost whispering she’s here and the next thing I hear are footsteps coming my way. The door closes and Harry stands beside me.

“It’s bloody freezing in here.”

I nod but don’t dare to look at him.

“Baby”

His tone sounds tired but the nickname makes my heart flutter. My eyes search his, desperately, and I think he’s done with giving me the hard look and the cold façade. I don’t like that Harry, that’s not him. Harry is kind and understanding and a good listener. He’s not harsh and hard and cold. That’s me.

“I think I’m acting like such a spoiled brat.” I confess. “You’re just giving me a taste of my own medicine and I don’t fucking like it. I didn’t really need you to show me how insufferable I am though. I already knew that.”

He sighs.

“Can we go somewhere alone and not freezing?” He asks. “We need to talk.”

I look into his eyes. He’s standing tall right next to the heater and I’m sitting down with my knees to my chest and the blanket around me. My heart is pounding on the back of my throat and I can feel my pulse on my brain.

“I love you.”

The words come out clean and clear, despite my nervousness, and my eyes don’t leave his until the weight of them fall upon us. That’s the first time I have ever said that to a man different than Dylan, that’s the first time I’ve meant those words in a romantic way after him. I can’t yet read him. He’s just looking at me and I don’t know whether on the inside he’s grinning or whether he’s about to cry.

“Isn’t that what you wanted to hear?” I am whispering now and I guess all my strength and my bravery have gone with those three words that got no answer.

“Is that why you said it?” He raises his eyebrows.

“No” I look down at my knees and think I’m about to cry “I said it because it’s true. I already wrote it down for you.”

He offers me his hand. I don’t understand his silence or why he is barely moving but I take his hand and he gives me a timid smile.

“Will you show us to your room?”

I leave the blanket a mess on the basket and walk with him towards my room. My dad played Miles Davis downstairs but I can still hear the fire and the keyboard of somebody’s laptop.

Once in my room, I take a deep breath and try not to think of what happened here before I met Harry. I try not to see Dylan on my bed, I try not to listen to his voice making fun of me for my decorations. Harry has a look around but he stands right there and he doesn’t move until I tell him he can.

“After your boyfriend passed away” he starts.

I feel my shoulders tensing and my breathing catching on my throat. No, no, no, no. I can feel his green eyes on me, studying me carefully, but I can’t look back at him.

“Did you go to therapy?”

I swallow. I don’t know why it is so hard to talk about this yet I manage to nod.

“How long for?”

“Two years.”

I see him nodding his head before he sighs. I guess he’s figuring out I’m actually really broken. I suppose if I hadn’t been to therapy, then he could hold onto that and he could say well she’s crazy now but she’ll get better but I bet after knowing I am actually the product of two years of therapy, he might give up.

“You said I wasn’t your second boyfriend. How long did you stay with him for?” I don’t answer. “How long ago was this?” He gives me some time to answer but I am still silent. “Why did you two break up?”

I am embarrassed to tell him and I don’t know why that’s even important. Javier is not something that bothers me. He’s in the past and I don’t think he has left any trauma in me and even if he did, Harry doesn’t have to worry about that. He is nothing like him and not even for a second have I doubted that.

“You’re not gonna speak?”

I want to fix things with him and I want to give him what he wants from me but I am embarrassed.

“Say something.”

“I don’t want to sleep here.”

The second I step out of the room, everything seems easier. I hear him taking a deep breath and sighing deeply before he follows me and when we enter the guest room in a second he’s behind me. His proximity covers my skin with goosebumps because I can feel his breathing against my ear shell and I can smell his scent and I feel like my heart is going to jump out of my mouth.

“When you found out about my shit you shut me out and I chased you day and night so you would let me explain. You were mad and, despite the way you treated me, I didn’t stop until I got you to listen to me because you’re important to me and I care. Now, you’re the one who’s hid something from me and instead of getting mad, I’m here, trying to get you to talk to me and you can’t even look me in the eyes.”

His proximity disappears as fast as it arrived and all he lets me se is his back as he sits down on the edge of the bed. I swallow and don’t know what to do. I look at him before my eyes set on our reflection on the glass of the window. He is looking down so he can’t see it but I can see us two and all of a sudden it’s like I know what to do.

Harry doesn’t deserve my silence. I owe him. I owe him a lot, even if he doesn’t know that, because in the last five months, I have laughed a lot more often and a lot harder and I have respected myself and I have actually wanted things. He gave that back to me and he deserves to see me, he deserves to know me and if after that he wants to leave, then I will take that but he will know who I really am.

I take a sit on the bed and cross my legs so my ankles hid underneath my thighs. I have never done this before outside of therapy and I don’t even know where to start. I take a deep breath.

“I met Dylan in this house when I was fifteen years old. Until then I had just been a posh spoiled girl like you thought I was when we met and, to be fair, I think if it hadn’t been for him, you would have been right on every stupid assumption you made about me that day in your kitchen.” I swallow.

“We started dating a year later but really I think I fell for him the very same night we met. I’ve had a… happy life. I mean before the accident. My childhood was good, my family never struggled and I was loved and wanted. I think I’ve always had everything I’ve wanted and still before I met Dylan I always felt like I was never in the right place. It was an uneasy feeling but I just never felt like I belonged anywhere. And then… He gave me that.

He didn’t think of me as a spoiled rich girl, he saw me and to him I was just… Indie. And he made me feel like the most interesting person in the world. I told him once when I was little my friends’ mothers wouldn’t let me play with Rio and the rest of the boys so I never learnt to climb a tree and he took me to his grandparents’ house and had me climbing to this huge tree on their backyard before he got the ladder down from his tree house.” I giggle nervously and hear Harry snorting a chuckle too.

He has turned around and is now staring at me and he’s silent but his body language has completely changed. I have his undivided attention.

“He was my first everything. My first love, my first boyfriend, my first best friend, my first time… And also my first fight, my first heartbreak and my first reconciliation and I guess… There was a part of me who wanted him to be the last too.”

I bit my bottom lip so it stops trembling and Harry patiently waits in silence until I get my voice back.

“When I left for Uni, he stayed in Capitol. His dad had cancer and his mum had to work so he decided to postpone Uni for a year or two until things got better. I admired him for that but then…” My eyes look away but now that I’ve started it’s like I can’t stop. “He changed. He became short-tempered and harsh and we started fighting a lot. I think he felt as if his life was stuck among cancer and poorly paid jobs while mine was moving forward and getting better and I was having fun when he was… I think he felt as if I have abandoned him and in a way, I…”

My face contorts and my throat closes on me to the point where my voice and my breath get stuck inside. I feel pain and guilt and embarrassment choking me and my eyes shut as hot, salty tears roll down my cheeks.

“I did.” I confess. “I was tired of being sad. Whenever I saw him, we ended up fighting and I saw my friends and everyone around me living their best lives and going to parties and I was just the girl with the sad boyfriend and I…” I shake my head. “I wasn’t there for him when he needed me.”

I take a deep breath.

“One day he came to see me and we had a fight and he left for hours. When he came back…” I lick my lips dry after all the talking. “He was high. That was the first time I saw him like that but then it all started to make sense: his mood-swings, his depression, his irritability… I tried helping him.” I wipe my tears and sob before I clear my throat. “I talked to his mum, to my parents, to his friends, to him… I asked for all the help I could get but… He wanted me to go with him to one of his new friends’ party. I didn’t like those people and I was trying to get him away from them because they all smoked and he wasn’t acting himself when he was around them…”

I swallow again but the lump in my throat is getting bigger and bigger and harder to swallow.

“So he went alone. I was in Grad. It was me who called him. I felt bad that I hadn’t gone with him to the party, even if they were the wrong crowd, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do to be there for him… And… He was driving.”

I dare to look at Harry then. His green eyes meet mine but I can’t take it. It’s hard enough to tell the story, doing it under such intense stare would be impossible.

“I lost it.” Even if I had wanted to look into his eyes, everything gets blurry before me now as a new army of tears rolls down my cheeks again. “I begged him to stop the car, I yelled at him, I… I even said if he didn’t then I’d break up with him.” I sob. “And he was mad and he yelled back and then… I heard the crash.”

I stop and my eyes set on the wall. Harry’s hand gently rests on my knee and it surprises me that my body doesn’t react to it. My mind wasn’t expecting that and yet my body seems to be so used to his touch, it didn’t flinch or even jump.

“The doctors said he died on the spot so the last thing he heard before dying was a threat.”

I look at him expecting to find the judgement on his eyes. Maybe he’s disgusted by me. Maybe he thinks I’m a terrible person and he doesn’t want to see me again. But all I find is pain and sorrow and love. I frown.

“I was depressed for six full months after that and when I started talking again, I started going to therapy. I wish I were dead too.” I admit.

I can see the pain flashing through his green eyes but he lets me talk. He doesn’t shush me or tells me don’t say that and I love him for that. He lets me say and he lets me feel and I know he didn’t want me dead but he gives me this moment, he gives me this silence, these words. He lets me owe them.

“And somehow I was; some part of me was. I thought I was never going to feel even remotely close to how I felt when he was with me. For years I felt like I didn’t want anything. I just did things, but I had no desires. I wasn’t hoping for anything or even trying anything… I was just waiting… And it might sound ungrateful or selfish but I honestly was just waiting for the day I die. I felt like some part of me was already dead. 

When I met Javier I wasn’t much better than that. It had been almost two years since Dylan’s accident and I guess I just wanted to feel something. We met at a club and fucked the same night and after that he was sweet at the beginning, I thought he was protective but really he was just jealous, possessive and controlling. He was… Bad. He was an abuser and he came across someone dead inside so he could do anything because I didn’t care and he did. He made me feel disgusting and fat and lazy and powerless but I guess in a way it was what I wanted. I have tortured myself for what happened to Dylan for years now. I feel guilty for not having been there for him enough… I guess part of me thought I deserved Javier to some extend… Until one day he tied me up to the headboard of the bed and left me there for three hours.”

Harry’s eyes horrified at that. His nostrils flare and his jaw clenches but he still doesn’t say anything. I swallow and go on.

“I was done with men when I met you but you…” My voice croaks but I want to tell him. I think this is the most important part. “You said I could have blue cheese” I chuckle nervously and so does he “and I… I wanted to see you.” I don’t know why I’m crying now but I feel salty tears on my mouth and my voice croaks all the time. “I hoped you would be in your coffee break when I went to the cafeteria. I mean at the beginning it was just… Orgasms.” He laughs. “But even then, I felt… Alive. I felt my heart beating and the air on my lungs and I felt my blood rushing through my veins and then it was all the time. You look at me and my pulse accelerates and when you’re close my breath gets stuck on my throat and I don’t know what to say and my skin gets covered in goosebumps and my stomach does somersaults…”

I have barely taken a breath while telling him all that but now he’s blushing and his lips can’t help the small smile and his dimple is out and for a moment I thought I would never make him smile like this ever again.

“So… I got scared.” I shrug. “I got scared that I was forgetting about Dylan. I didn’t want to leave him behind. You know, I’ve… I’ve never been able to go to his grave. I don’t think I can see his gravestone.” My voice breaks and Harry’s hand moves from my knee to my shoulder. “I don’t… I can’t remember his voice.” I sob. “I could hear him on tape but I think it would make me depressed again.” I let the lump in my throat win for a second before I fight it again. “I just want to be able to remember him without feeling my heart break into a million pieces. I mean how long does grieving take? It’s been three years and I can’t talk about him.”

“Come here.”

I let Harry pull me to him and in crying to him about Dylan I find a comfort I never thought possible. His hand carefully and lovingly rub my back and his lips press soft kisses against my hairline. I don’t know how long for he lets me cry but he only pulls away when I’m sniffing and my breathing has gone back to normal.

His green eyes investigate mine for long seconds before he takes a deep breath and speaks.

“I don’t know how to say what I want to tell you without sounding harsh.”

I purse my lips. I don’t know either but I get ready to hear it. I know this is too much. He already said I had to figure my shit out before I was in a relationship and he didn’t even know all this shit so now he’s gonna leave for good. I understand. I wouldn’t wanna be with me either.  

“When you were depressed, I suppose Coco was there for you, right?”

I nod but frown. I do not know where he’s going with this.

“Did that make you feel better?”

“Of course.”

“Did that heal you?”

I frown. I guess… Not. My doctor healed me, I healed me. Coco just loved me.

“You can’t love someone out of depression, Blue.” He states. “What happened to Dylan was a terrible accident and it’s normal that with accidents we always feel as if they could have been somehow prevented but that doesn’t help anyone.” He sighs. “Death is terrible but it’s also a part of life. We all have to die. Dylan was taken too soon and I can’t imagine what that felt like, baby… Really, I am amazed that you went through that and that you… survived that and came out this… Incredible.” His eyebrows raise on his forehead as his head shakes, as if he really was amazed. “And I am sorry for what I said to you. I wish I had known this sooner but I also wish I could take back the moment where I blamed you for your… Things. This is fucking hard and I wish I could tell you how long grieving takes but I don’t know, love. Yet you don’t have to do this alone.”

My heart restarts and my eyes search for the trap.

“You’re not going to leave?”

“Where?”

“I…” I shrug. “I thought this was going to scare you away.” I frown. “That you’d realize I have deep severe issues and you would just walk away.”

Harry frowns and it’s the first time a gesture of contradiction wakes butterflies up in my belly.

“Sometimes I don’t know who you take me for--.” He shakes his head. “I love you, Blue. And I want to see you happy. I love seeing you smile and laugh and I feel… Important when I make you laugh. You’re intelligent and kind and funny and mesmerising and beyond gorgeous and… So young, love. Why would I ever want to walk away from that?”

My eyes move frantically between his and I choose not to ask him whether he really thinks that. I decide I’ll try to believe him. He shakes his head. I think he can read my mind.

“I wish you could see yourself through my eyes.” He smirks. “Could you please tell me what would be of your friends without you? Do you think Mario and Olivia would be together if it wasn’t because of you? Do you think Marie would have dared to go out with Adam? And what would be of Jason? You helped him get out of an abusive relationship. Do you know how hard that is?”

I guess he’s right. I do contribute on The Golden Girls.

“And what about me?” He chuckles. “You make me not hate myself.”

His green eyes bore into mine after he said that and I know the nodding of his head is just a way to try and swallow the lump on his throat. I can see the tears he’s holding back now.

“Before I met you, I was just waiting too and now I want to live and I want to love you and you’re gonna let me.” He persuades me so I giggle.

“Promise me you’re gonna let me.” He whispers.

“I promise.” I smile.

He nods, satisfied with my answer, and we both stare at each other smiling despite all the emotions we just shared.

“I don’t know how long it’s gonna take for you to be able to remember Dylan without feeling your heart breaking... But what I do want you to know is that I don’t think you need to stop loving him to love me or anyone else.” He shrugs. “I mean... When I think about widows remarrying, I never think of it as a bad thing, I don’t think it means forgetting... It just means... Your heart is big enough to love twice.” He smirks. 

I let the tears roll down my cheeks and meet my lips. 

“I don’t know why I thought you’d... Like... Not understand.” I shake my head. “I thought you might even get jealous.” 

He frowns, like I was speaking some foreign language and it’s his little understanding that makes me smirk despite my tears. 

“Getting jealous of that is like... I’m afraid it’s literally sick.”

I even chuckle. 

“You’re strong and wonderful” he says “and I have no doubt you’ll get there. I hope it’s me the one you tell about Dylan without having your heart breaking too.” He smiles. 

My lips are curled into a timid smile but my head is shaking because there’s a part of me that’s beyond happy, there’s another part of me that’s heartbroken, there’s another part that can’t believe someone this kind can exist; and in the midst of all these feelings, my mind doesn’t have control over my body anymore. 

“I love you.” 

I let my lips hug every syllable and my heart own every word. Harry’s lips curl until he’s grinning and I think I’ll tell him I love him every morning if he’s going to look at me like that. 

I am not scared anymore. 

I feel liberated and I love this man in a way that makes my heart skip every second beat. For the first time in three years, I feel like there’s not a single part of me that’s not full of life and love and plans and hope and calm.

“I love you too. And now get ready because I’m going to kiss you.”

The air leaves my lungs through a desperate smile as his hands rest on the mattress next to my thighs and he gets closer to me.

“I’m ready.”

#harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles one shot #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fic #harry styles au #harry styles and reader #harry styles love #harry styles #harry styles new

[particularemu]

Hold Me | A Bang Chan Scenario

Word Count: 937

Type: Angsty fluff

Warnings: anxiety, depression, messy makeout session

Author’s Note: For my bby, my fucking cinnamon apple, the person who makes my days brighter, the one and only @channiesmixtape​

Sorry you’ve been having a tough few days because of some pansy-ass anons 💖 I hope this can help somehow 💖💖💖

There’s nothing like being in the arms of the person you love — ESPECIALLY when you’re having a bad day. It’s as if the entire world disappears, leaving just you and him, the sounds of his beating heart and steady breathing soothing you from an unforgiving world. 

“Hold me.” You whisper, pulling Chan closer to you — as if his body heat would soothe your very soul. “Please hold me.” Your voice was small, weak, as your innermost thoughts threatened to spill over — to explode into a mess of broken sobs and distressed tears. 

Chan merely chuckled, arms pulling you so close, you felt as though your bodies would melt together. “I am baby girl.” His thick Australian accent would normally send shivers up your spine, but today… today his voice didn’t have the same effect. At least his soothing words and gentle touches gave you some comfort. 

“Tighter.” You quietly beg, slinging your leg across his body, heel hooking underneath his thigh as you pulled him impossibly closer. You weren’t normally like this. Usually, you had your shit together, but today — today you wanted to be taken care of. You didn’t want to deal with any of this on your own. You wanted his help, but… 

You didn’t want to bother him with your dumb friend troubles. 

Chan pressed a gentle kiss to your forehead, hands running up and down your back as he asked quietly, “Are you okay?”

You chuckle — a burst of dark laughter you weren’t used to hearing from your own lips as you nuzzled your nose into his neck. “I don’t know.” 

That was the truth. You didn’t know. Were you okay? You felt like you were going to break down any minute — like your facade was going to crumble and you’d be left an emotional mess. You never wanted Chan to see that side of you. Your head subconsciously pressed further into his neck, the scent of pine filling your nose the closer you nuzzled into his skin. 

“You know.” Chan paused, hands tilting your chin up so he could look you in the eyes. “I’ll always be there for you.” His thumb gently ran across your cheek. “You don’t have to tell me anything. Just tell me what you need me to do to make things better.” 

That very moment — the moment those words left his lips mixed with his gentle touches, the earnest look in his eyes, and the sad smile on his lips — that was when you realized just how much you loved the boy beneath you. He was going out of his way to try and make you feel better. You weren’t used to such kindness. Your heart panged in your chest as you buried yourself into his chest, tears flowing freely as your hand grasped his shirt, as if fisting the thick fabric of his sweater would help you get your shit together. 

“Hey hey, it’s okay.” Chan’s hand ran along your back as his other arm pulled you closer. “I’m here.” 

“She was my friend.” You sobbed. “I just can’t believe she lied to me like that.” your body shook as you tried to contain your emotions. 

“It’s okay.” Chan kissed your forehead. “It’s okay let it out.” 

You told him everything — everything from the day you met your friend to the day she decided to stab you in the back. Chan listened intently the entire time, hand rubbing soothing circles on your back, lips pressing soft kisses along your face, thumbs wiping away your tears as he whispered sweet nothings into your ear.

“I’m just anxious all the time.” You sniffled, wiping away your tears for the hundredth time with your sleeve. “I feel like I can’t trust anyone anymore.” 

“Hey!” Chan pretended to be offended, the small grin on his face giving away his facade. 

“Of course I trust you, Chris.” You chuckled a bit, making the boy underneath you smile. 

He pulled you closer, fingertip tracing a small heart on your back. “I’m glad.” He pressed a soft kiss to your temple. “But I don’t like the thought of you being too afraid to make friends.” Chan ran his fingers through your hair, a soft smile tugging at his lips when he saw your eyes drift shut, a small smile tugging at your lips from his soothing touch. “She might have done bad things, but that doesn’t mean everyone will.” 

You sighed, resting your hand on his hip, thumb rubbing across the bare skin. “I know.” 

“I’ll protect you from anyone else who tries to hurt you.” Chan smiled softly. His gentle eyes mixed with the sight of his adorable dimples made your heart swell. Chan really is perfect. 

“Thank you.” You wiped your eyes once more, the tension in your body releasing underneath his fingertips as he massaged between your shoulder blades. “I really needed this.” 

“Of course, love.” Chan tickled your sides, a huge grin tugging at his lips when he heard your muffled giggles. 

“Chan stop!” You smacked at his shoulders as Chan continued his assault on your sides. “Please.” You couldn’t help but flush as he rolled over, gently resting his forehead against yours. “I love you.” 

Your cheeks flushed as he kissed you softly, tongue swiping along your lower lips as if asking for permission, even though you both knew your lips would part for him instantly. His tongue slid inside your mouth, his saliva mixing with yours in the most wonderful way. You were left breathless when the boy pulled away, a small smirk tugging at his lips. 

“Let me show you how much, yeah?”

#bang chan imagines #bang chan #bang chan scenarios #bang chan angst #bang chan x reader #bang chan x you #stray kids x reader #stray kids x you #stray kids scenarios #stray kids #skz #bang chan fanfictions #stray kids bang chan #stray kids chan #stray kids angst #skz angst #kpop angst #angst #my writing #stray kids fluff #skz fluff #kpop fluff #fluff #this is probably garbage #but i'm okay with it #i'm okay with this garbage #because i want to make my SIS FEEL BETTER #i'm sorry i can't be more help #i suck at comforting people #especially when it comes to anxiety because...

[inthedayswhenlandswerefew]

But You Can Never Leave [Chapter 14: Fever]

A/N: I’ve written a lot of chapters for Tumblr, but this one was by far the hardest. Thank you for reading. 💜 

Chapter summary: Queen enjoys an American tradition, Y/N struggles to be optimistic, John offers distractions, Roger makes questionable decisions (what else is new).

This series is a work of fiction, and is (very) loosely inspired by real people and events. Absolutely no offense is meant to actual Queen or their families.

Song inspiration: Hotel California by The Eagles.

Chapter warnings: Language, accidental intense flirting, inconvenient erections, drugs, overdoses, near-death experiences, medical emergencies, hospital stuff, pregnancy, babies, miscarriage, drama, sexual references, do I even need to say angst...? Y’all already know.

Chapter list (and all my writing) available HERE

Taglist: @queen-turtle-boiii​ @loveandbeloved29​ @maggieroseevans​ @imnotvibingveryguccimrstark​ @im-an-adult-ish​ @queenlover05​ @someforeigntragedy​ @imtheinvisiblequeen​ @joemazzmatazz​ @seven-seas-of-ham-on-rhye​ @namelesslosers​ @inthegardensofourminds​ @deacyblues​ @youngpastafanmug​ @sleepretreat​ @hardyshoe​ @bramblesforbreakfast​ @sevenseasofcats​ @tensecondvacation​ @queen-crue​ @jennyggggrrr​ @madeinheavxn​ @whatgoeson-itslate​ @brianssixpence​ @simonedk​ @herewegoagainniall​ @stardust-killer-queen​ @anotheronewritesthedust1​ @pomjompish​ @writerxinthedark​ @culturefiendtrashqueen​

Please yell at me if I forget to tag you! 

It’s November 12th, 1977, and you’re six weeks pregnant.

“I can’t believe I’m going to be a grandmother!” Your mom is positively giddy, beaming ceaselessly, patting the back of Roger’s hand at least once every three minutes. I was right about this delightful English boy and my future gorgeous, doe-eyed grandchildren, that look says. Your parents either never saw any headlines, or—a possibility that seems increasingly conceivable—didn’t believe them.

“I know it’s early to announce,” you add nervously. “But we figured...you know, since we’re here now...and who knows when we’ll be back in Boston...”

“Oh, I’m so happy you told me!” your mother peals like a wind chime. “Here, have some more sweet potatoes, and some salmon too, they’re so good for the baby...have you thought about names yet?”

“Roger Junior,” Roger jokes.                                                        

“Freddie Junior,” Freddie offers with a flamboyant flourish of his hand; his fingernails are jet black with glinting flecks of silver.

“A few,” you tell your mother, rolling your eyes at Freddie. “But there’s still plenty of time to figure that out.” In truth, this whole having a baby thing still feels rather nebulous and untrustworthy, like it’s a dream you might wake up from, like it’s a desert mirage that will evaporate as soon as you stumble too close, parched and ravenous and aching for it. Roger slips his arm around your waist, and you don’t exactly dislike that; but it feels a little like a mirage too.

“We’re so happy,” he says, with a gentle wistfulness that is striking on him. Roger is happy, as happy as you’ve ever seen him. He drinks only in moderation. He does his physical therapy. He’s taken up meditation. He fucking meditates. He wants to get clean for the baby, for you, for this second chance at a future together. And you don’t entirely trust this—because everyone lies and everyone disappoints and everyone carries around mortal shadows in the marrow of their bones—but you are beginning to let it make you happy too.

“You’re next, Fred,” Brian says. “You’re the only one left. Come on, it’s your turn. Cough up an infant.”

Freddie cackles. “All my children have whiskers and tails and I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

Your mother shoves a glass baking pan of sweet potato casserole, topped with a layer of gluey burned marshmallows, towards you. “Eat!” she commands.

You warily spoon yourself some, grimacing; you’re more or less constantly nauseous. Then you stare down at the heap of lumpy orange root vegetables that—to you, at least—contains a choking quantity of cinnamon. The sweet potato casserole stares menacingly back. John leans over and scoops himself a bite off your plate.

“Mmmmm!” he exclaims, to your mother’s delight. Then, more quietly to you: “Not to worry. I’ll help.”

“Everything is delicious, as always,” Brian tells your parents, ever well-mannered. “It’s always such a delight when work brings us to Boston. This was so kind of you!”

Your mom and dad wanted to treat Queen to the band’s first-ever American Thanksgiving dinner, even if actual Thanksgiving was still two weeks away; the table features a monstrous turkey with brown crispy skin, stuffing and mashed potatoes and gravy, homemade cranberry sauce, green beans almondine, ham, Atlantic salmon, buttered rolls, pumpkin pie, and of course the loathsome sweet potato casserole. You endeavor to taste at least one bite of everything, sipping sparkling apple cider cautiously, biting back waves of nausea that surface at random like breaching whales. The tablecloth is speckled with autumn leaves and inappropriately jolly cartoon turkeys. Your parents are glowing, proud, thrilled...although they’re visibly channeling effort into not being offended by the fact that Brian won’t try the turkey.

“It’s our pleasure, of course,” your father deflects as he puffs on a cigar. He’s mixed a drink for all of the non-pregnant attendees: Apple Cranberry Moscow Mules for everyone except John, who requested his usual Manhattan. “And you’ve timed it perfectly. There’s no better time to be in New England than the fall.”

“Oh, the foliage is just stunning, and the skies are so clear, you can see all the constellations!” Brian cranes his neck and points out the dining room window. “Look, there’s the winged horse Pegasus, and Cassiopeia, and Perseus...”

“The scenery is gorgeous! Creatively rousing!” Roger agrees.

“Oh, planning a Boston-inspired sequel, are we?” John quips. “I’m In Love With My Lobster Boat?”

“I’m In Love With My Revolutionary War Memorabilia?” Freddie suggests.

“Get a grip on my extremely unreliable and difficult to load musket...” John sings.

Freddie points his fork at him and grins. “Yours wouldn’t be so difficult, Deaky dear.”

“How long did those old muskets take to load?” Bri asks.

“About two minutes,” your father pipes cheerfully.

Freddie snorts. “Sounds about right.”

John bears the laughter with a good-natured, smug sort of smirk. I’m not bothered because I know I’ve got nothing to worry about, that look says. You wiggle your eyebrows at him. He winks back.

Roger groans as he stretches his hands up towards the ceiling. “Am I really expected to play after all this?! Jesus christ. I’ve gained a stone in the past hour. Alright, one more slice of pie, then we have to get going...”

Queen has reserved your parents front-row seats at the show, as well as a limo to shuttle them there and back. While your mother fusses over whether you’ve eaten enough and what appropriate rock concert attire is—“leather and feather boas and riding crops, darling” Freddie informs her—your father circles the table snapping photographs, first with your Canon and then with his own Polaroid. You and Roger pose together, lean into each other, plant giggling kisses on each other’s cheeks. And you marvel at how a photo is a snapshot, a split second, nothing less and nothing more; that it’s instantly and mechanically captured, impersonal even, cheap to print and easy to burn. As your mother begins gathering up plates and glasses, you stand to help her.

“No no no,” Roger says, wiping the crumbs from his chin with an orange napkin. “Not allowed, Boston babe. Sit down, I’ll do it, I’ll help clean up.”

“I want to,” you insist. “I feel better when I’m moving around.” Less likely to vomit into anyone’s sweet potato casserole.

“You sure?”  

“Absolutely.” You smile down at him fleetingly, ruffle his short bleached hair, then disappear into the kitchen.

Your mother is scrubbing plates in the bubble-filled sink, her hands turning pink under the hot water, humming Rhiannon in a bright merry voice. She’s wearing a sparkling crimson dress that reminds you of blood. Your stomach lists like a sailboat.  

“I’ll wash if you want to dry,” you offer.

“I raised such a kind girl. My beautiful daughter, a future mama. Mrs. Roger Meddows Taylor.” She twirls a lock of your hair affectionately, then steps aside so you can reach into the sink. “That John Deacon is a bit strange, isn’t he?”

You resist the reflex to bristle, to snap at her; it’s not her intention to be cruel. It never is. “No, not really. He’s wonderful, he’s a genius. He’s my best friend, actually.”

“Oh alright, dear. I’m sure he’s lovely enough. He’s just so terribly quiet. He fades away next to the others. And certainly next to Roger.” She sighs, infatuated, dazzled.  

You hear Roger’s voice echo in your skull: Watch out, baby. I get everything I want eventually.

Maybe he was right about that.

You’re trying to be happy, really you are; you’re trying to fall in love with this future Roger has planned for you. But you can’t shake the gnawing sensation that—somewhere along the way—your life stopped being written by you. You’re anxious all the time; you bite your lips until they bleed and wring your ringless hands and rarely sleep. You feel restless and ineffectual and nervy, like there’s some inescapable horror crouched behind every door you open, every page you turn. You feel the opposite of free.

Your mother notes casually, drying a china plate patterned with pink roses and edged with gold: “It must get difficult sometimes, having to share him with the world.”

You gaze into the nest of pearlescent bubbles that pop around your wrists like interrupted dreams, like broken promises. “You have no idea.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s December 21st, 1977, and you’re twelve weeks pregnant.

Blood trickles down your palm, the underside of your wrist, your velveteen-soft forearm. You hold the wad of gauze against the Scottish roadie’s pouring nose. What’s this one’s name? Nick? Nate? Niall? You’ve lost track. Whoever he is, he sustained an accidental elbow to the face as the crew was unloading the band’s luggage from the tour bus and is now slumped on the marble floor of the New Orleans Ritz-Carlton, splattered with drops of blood like the freckles sprayed across his pale cheeks. Giant red bows and Christmas trees trimmed with twinkling white lights rim the lobby.

“Alright, let’s take a look.” You lift the gauze away; the bleeding has slowed considerably. You gingerly probe the bridge of his nose as the roadie moans in pain.

“You trying to kill me, lady?” he jests.

You wrap an ice pack in fresh gauze and press it against his swollen face. “It’s not broken. Keep the ice on it, apply pressure, come get me if the bleeding doesn’t stop in ten minutes. Okay? You might have black eyes but you’re gonna be fine. You’ll look extra badass for the babes at the club.”

“Okay.” The roadie smiles gratefully. “Thanks, Florence Nightingale.”

You smirk up at Roger. “Did you have to teach them that?”

“You’ve cultivated quite the reputation, love.” He grins, takes a drag off his cigarette, glances around the lobby through his opaque prescription sunglasses. And you’re struck by how pertinent he looks here, in grand rooms with chandeliers and towering ceilings, in famed cities littered across the globe. He belongs in the spotlight. He belongs to the world. He doesn’t belong to just me, and he never will.

You reach for your duffel bag, but Roger yanks it away and slings it over his own shoulder.

“Will you please stop trying to lift heavy things?!” he pleads.

“I’m pregnant, I don’t have brittle bone disease.”

“Brittle bone disease!” Freddie cries, horrified. “Is that an actual ailment?!”

John snickers. “Yes, and it’s sexually transmitted, so watch where you stick your bone.”

“Oh, ha ha ha, you are hilarious!” Freddie says, rolling his large dark eyes. “Worry about your own performance, Mr. Misfire. Bri, you’ll join us for a drink tonight, won’t you?”

“Well...” Brian hesitates, and you suspect you know why. He’s been looking forward to this stop for months, Queen’s last in the States during the News Of The World tour; after two days in New Orleans the band will fly back to London, spend the holidays there, resume the tour with shows throughout Europe beginning in April. In just a few rotations of the Earth, Brian will be back at home with Chrissie and the twins. But tonight he has plans to see the girl he calls Peaches.

“You undependable poodle,” Freddie scolds. Then, saccharinely, batting his eyelashes: “But you’ll surely come along, won’t you Nurse Nightingale?”

“Fred...I hate to disappoint, but...”

“This is unacceptable!” he exclaims. “I am distraught! Not even an orgy with spicy Cajun men will lift my spirits!”

“I doubt that,” you reply, smiling. “I’m exhausted, Freddie. This making a kid business isn’t easy.”

“Oh, but you’re not too exhausted to cart around luggage like a fucking alpaca!” Roger massages your shoulders, enfolds the slight bump of your belly with his hands, lands a series of featherlight kisses down your neck. He’s still clean, he’s still effervescent, he’s continuously devoted in a way that is unusual for him, tender and sensitive, simultaneously ecstatic for the future and nostalgic for the past. “Want me to stay?”

“For fuck’s sake!” Freddie laments.

“That’s alright. John said I can help him wrap Christmas presents for Veronica and the kids. I’m learning how to be all maternal and domestic, isn’t that exciting?”

“I’d say you’re fairly effortlessly maternal,” Roger says, rather proudly. “Want me to bring you back anything?”

“No, I’m okay. I’ll send a roadie for chili cheese fries or something.”

“You can send them for lobster and filet mignon. Whatever you want.” He reaches into the pocket of his fitted black jeans and pulls out a small ring box.

“Roger...?”

He opens it, grinning, and taps an antique gold ring with a ruby stone into his calloused palm. “I found this at a shop in Miami. You remember the first time we were ever there? March of 1975. Hotel room with a view that looked out onto the beach, taking photos on the balcony with the ocean crashing behind you, feeding the seagulls chips until the bitches started attacking us.”

“I never forget.” And that’s true; there have been times you wish you could, but you don’t.

Roger takes your left hand and slips the ring onto your wedding finger. Then he lifts your knuckles to his lips, bites them gently, leaves faint burning indents in the flesh.

“I love it,” you breathe, turning your hand back and forth, watching the lights from the Christmas trees glimmer off the ruby. It feels real in a way that sharing a future with Roger hasn’t for a long time.

“Now don’t get all emotional over it. It doesn’t mean anything, you know.” Roger winks and lands a parting kiss on your forehead. Then he passes your duffel bag to a roadie, who vanishes with it into an elevator. “Deaks, you’ll take care of my girl?”

“I always do,” John replies.

“Have fun,” you tell Roger, beaming up at him. “But not too much fun.” This could work. This could really work.

Freddie crosses himself like one of Veronica’s Catholic great aunts. “Depravity? Us? Never in a million years, darling.” Then he hooks an arm around Roger and leads him towards the glass hotel doors. They’re engulfed by a crowd of Queen’s roadies, laughing and shoving each other playfully: Ratty Hince, Paul Prenter, Chris Taylor (dubbed Crystal by the band), Brian Spencer, John Harris, others whose names you haven’t committed to memory yet.

“You ready, Emily Post?” John asks, heading towards the nearest elevator, and you follow him.

In his hotel room is a messy stack of gifts accumulated over the past month and a half from tour stops all over the United States: tiny model Liberty Bells from Philadelphia, Yankees baseball caps from New York City, a slot machine that spits out gumballs from Las Vegas, red socks embroidered with the logo of—what else?—the Boston Red Sox, NASA astronaut action figures from Houston, teddy bears wearing Cubs t-shirts from Chicago, plushies from the Miami aquarium: a hammerhead shark for Laszlo, a dolphin for Anna, and an octopus for the newest Deacon due in mid-February. You and John sit on the floor together in a flurry of tubes of Christmas-themed wrapping paper, stick-on bows, name labels, greeting cards, and pens. John flips through the tv channels until he finds It’s A Wonderful Life. You send a roadie to get dinner from a New Orleans-based fast food chain called Popeyes, and you take leisurely breaks between gift wrapping to chomp on crispy chicken wings and biscuits and mini apple pies and to guzzle down towering cups of Southern-style sweet tea.

“Octopuses are gender-neutral, right?” John asks, floundering as he tries to wrap all eight tentacles individually.

“Totally.” You’ve been brainstorming how best to package the slot machine for fifteen minutes. You take another contemplative bite of a flaky biscuit. “These kids are gonna be super confused when it comes time to pick a favorite team for the World Series.”

“Well obviously they’ll have to be Boston fans or I’ll disown them.”

You sigh contently. “This is just too adorable. I want to wake up early on Christmas morning and open presents with some hyperactive children. Please adopt me into your family.”

“Done. You’re in.”

You laugh. “I don’t think Slavic Jesus thinks highly of polygamy.”

“Whoa whoa whoa, who said anything about a second wife? You can be the live-in nanny but also the filthy secret mistress. Take it or leave it. Final offer.”

“Alright, Mr. Misfire. But you’ll have to fuck me for at least slightly longer than two minutes.”

Oh god, I should not have said that.

John stares at you. You stare back. And something flies between you, something like a pop of static electricity or a firing neuron, something hot and lightning-quick. There’s blood flushing his cheeks, but it’s not quite embarrassment; you know because the same heat is swirling in yours.

Stop, you order yourself.

But it’s too late, now you’re thinking about it, what it would be like: what he would feel like, taste like. Not like wildfire, reckless and consuming, disaster nipping at its heels. Something different, something constant and dependable and soulful, something that feels like home anywhere in the world.

It wasn’t about me. It wasn’t about me. You’re My Best Friend wasn’t about me.

John grabs a sheet of crinkling wrapping paper patterned with chortling Santa Claus faces and drags it over his lap to conceal the sizable bulge growing there in his white pants. You pretend—unconvincingly, you’re sure—not to notice.

Finally, he chuckles uneasily. “However you want it.”

“I’m so sorry. That was wildly inappropriate. I’m hormonal and stupid.”

“I kind of like you hormonal and stupid.”

“Well don’t get used to it, this is a temporary condition.”

“You really can come over,” John says. “On Christmas morning. You and Roger can come over if you want to. The kids love you both. And honestly neither of them are old enough to remember this year anyway, so no pressure if you fuck up Christmas by being accidentally slutty or whatever.”

The smile ripples through the muscles of your face, uncoiling all the tension there. He really does make everything better. “Okay. But you have to promise to behave too.”

He shrugs coyly, lights a cigarette, watches you as he exhales smoke. “You’ve always said I have game.”

There are voices out in the hallway, uproarious laughter, the pounding of irregular footsteps, thumps against the walls. You can hear Freddie giggling: “Rog, darling, come on, get it together...!”

John furrows his brow at you. He doesn’t say anything, but you know that look. What John means is: Is he okay?

“I’m sure he’s fine,” you reply. He’s been fine all tour.

And then, more desperately: He HAS to be fine. Not just for me anymore.

“Rog?!” Freddie shrieks, and now the voices are louder, more numerous. There’s one massive thud. Someone screams for help.

You and John scramble to your feet. You snatch your kit off the dresser and bolt out into the hallway. Roger is sprawled on the floor in the center of a reeling crowd, unconscious, gasping for air, his skin a starved bluish. Freddie and Crystal are hovering over him, shouting and horrified.

“Oh my god,” John says.

“Call an ambulance,” you tell him, and John sprints back into his hotel room.

You shove Freddie and Crystal aside and kneel beside Roger, jostle him awake, pry open his eyes and shine your flashlight into them. His pupils are pinpricks. His breathing is shallow and uneven. You close your fingers around his right wrist; his skin is drenched with sweat. Roger’s pulse is erratic, fading.

“Roger, can you hear me?”

“Hey, baby,” he murmurs. Then he blacks out again.

“What did he take?” you pitch at Freddie.

Freddie and Crystal exchange a glance, hesitating.

“If you don’t tell me what it was he’s going to die, what did he take?!”

“He wasn’t in the same room as us,” Freddie says, his voice quaking. “We don’t know—”

“So you left him alone,” you seethe. “Of course you fucking did.”

Roger’s hand shoots up and seizes your shirt, twisting the fabric in his gnarled fingers. “Speedball,” he rasps. His vivid blue eyes—like bruises, like veins, like cold rain—are huge and bloodshot and frantic. He’s begging for his life. He’s begging you to save him. “The guy said it was a speedball.”

You know exactly what a speedball is; it’s your job to know things like that, to know all the chemical combinations that errant rock stars love destroying themselves with. “A speedball has heroin in it, Roger!”

“I can’t breathe,” he sighs dispassionately, as if it doesn’t bother him at all. His eyes are glassy now, unseeing.

“Don’t you fucking die on me!” You rake through your kit for the vial of Naloxone that you thought you’d never need. That’s not for bands like Queen, you remember thinking when the record company insisted you carry it. That’s for people like The Rolling Stones or Black Sabbath or maybe even Fleetwood Mac on a bad day, but not Queen. Not my boys. Not my Roger.

Oh, but has he ever really been mine?

You pull a syringe out of your kit, throw off the cap, and hold the vial of Naloxone upside down. You stab the needle through the rubber stopper and measure out 1cc—an entire syringe’s worth—of the drug that can reverse opioid overdoes. CAN, not will. It doesn’t always work.

Freddie is sobbing as Crystal drapes an arm over his shoulder and turns him away. So they don’t have to watch. So they don’t have to see him die.

You don’t have the luxury of not watching.

John is back. “What can I do?” he asks.

“Shake him. Keep him awake. Hit him if you have to.”

John kneels, cups Roger’s face in his hands, smacks his cheek each time Roger begins to nod off. Roger gazes up at him numbly, breathing in haphazard wheezes. “Stay with me, Rog. That’s it. Stay with me, you’re gonna be fine...”

You pinch a tiny roll of fat in Roger’s upper arm and jab the needle in. You push down the plunger and 1cc of Naloxone vanishes from the syringe barrel as it surges into Roger’s disordered bloodstream. You toss the syringe away and rub his arm as crimson blood beads from the injection wound.

“Come on, Roger,” you beg him. “Come on, Roger, please...”

You fill another syringe and inject it an inch below the first puncture mark. Roger’s eyes—those eyes that you’ve been trying to claw your way out of since you first saw them across a hospital room in the June of 1974—flutter closed. His sweated rib cage stills.

“Roger?!” John roars, shaking him. “Roger, Rog, wake up!”

“Roger!” you scream.

He sucks down a sudden breath—deep, clear, life-giving—and his intense blue eyes fly open.

“Oh thank god!” you cry, clutching your chest. “John, help me, help me get him up...”

Together with Fred and Crystal you drag Roger to his feet, force him to walk, parade him up and down the hallway until the paramedics arrive and ferry him away—still dazed and ghastly pale, still grasping for you and muttering things you don’t understand—and then your adrenaline rush evaporates and you crumble to the floor, one shaking hand covering your face, the other on the small swell of your belly.

I’m so sorry, little guy, little lady. You deserve better than us.

“I have to go after him,” you tell John when he reaches for you, trying to lift you off the floor. “I have to make sure he’s okay, the Naloxone, it could wear off before the heroin does, and it...it...it can stop an opioid overdose but speedballs have coke in them too and he could still have effects from that...”

“Okay, no problem, we can go, come on, we’ll get a cab and we’ll be right behind them.”

And you remember what Roger once told you as the planet rolled into 1975, under streetlights casting islands of luminance in an ocean of cold darkness: But I can promise you that your life will never feel like a cage. And isn’t that what this was all about for you anyway?

But Roger was wrong.

My life does feel like a cage. It feels exactly like a cage.

You sputter weakly: “He’s not, he isn’t, he can’t...”

“What?” John presses. “Slow down. Breathe. Tell me.”

“He’s never going to change, John,” you whisper. The weight of the ruby ring is heavy on your trembling left hand. “He’s never going to change.”

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s February 15th, 1978, and you’re nineteen weeks pregnant.

The kitchen phone rings, and you answer. The date for your twenty-week ultrasound is circled on the calendar in red ink. “Hello?”

“Do you need to get out of the house?” John asks. “Because I really need to get out of the house.”

You do, incidentally. Yesterday was Valentine’s Day, and Roger did everything right: a bouquet of pink roses and carnations waiting on the kitchen table when you woke up, a new Ferrari parked in the driveway, a candlelit dinner at Mon Plaisir. It was a little too right, actually, like Roger was trying to coax you into serenity, like he was proving how illogical it would be to consider ever being unhappy with him, like he was making up for something; and that’s how things feel a lot of the time, now that you think of it. Roger is fine, mostly. He’s home, usually. He’s clean until he isn’t, and then afterwards he’s so dazzlingly radiant and kind that you can’t stand the thought of not being there to help if he needs you, can’t remember your frustration or your anger half as much as your fear of losing him. And it’s incredible how good you’ve gotten at pushing the memory of that News Of The World headline out of your mind, like it was something from a soap opera or a cheap romance novel, like it was just a slice of scandalous fiction that happened to somebody else. That’s the way the body works too, isn’t it? Wounds close over, livers regenerate, old cells slough away and reveal fresh tissue beneath with no recollection of the pain that comes tangled up with all the other eventualities of existence. Times like Valentine’s Day are a revival, a resurrection: brand new cells, a healed fracture, a shot of Naloxone to restore the blood to equilibrium. But today is not Valentine’s Day, and Roger isn’t home. You aren’t entirely sure where he is, and you don’t know if you’d want to be. “Yeah, I’ll pick you up. I can show you my wicked new ride.”

“I’m intrigued. You’ll have to let me drive it one day.”

“What, directly into a cop car?”

“You’re awful and I hate you,” John says, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “See you at 8? There’s a new disco in Soho I’m dying to check out.”

“Sure thing, I just have to make myself glamorous first. It’s quite a process now that I have all the elegance and svelteness of a large marine mammal. But I’ll rise to the occasion. I’ll be the most attractive whale you’ve ever seen.”

He chuckles. “I don’t doubt that at all.”

You roll up to John’s Putney house in your maroon Ferrari, the convertible top down despite the biting cold, a bomber jacket—just a tad too tight to zip up over your bump—concealing your short black dress. Pregnancy has finally started to look good on you, aforementioned marine-mammal-ness notwithstanding: your hair is thick and gleaming, your skin clear, your face fuller and emitting a mysterious, ethereal sort of glow. You check your hair and makeup in the rear view mirror as John jogs out of his front door. He stops dead in the driveway.

“Wow.”

You pat the passenger’s seat. “Hop in, felon.”

“He bought you a freaking Ferrari?!”

“Am I not worth it?” you joke, flipping your hair.

John slides into the car. “How do I become married to Roger Taylor? Tell me your secrets.”

“Well, to receive a Ferrari, you’ll probably have to get pregnant with his firstborn child too.”

“Ahhh. A minor obstacle.”

You laugh as you spin out of the driveway and cruise towards downtown London. Then you peer over at John, really taking him in, reading him like heart rates or units of measurement inked to the barrel of a syringe. His elbow is propped up on the window sill, his chin nestled in the heel of his hand, his blue-grey eyes unfocused as they gaze out into the night sky and streetlights that flicker by like the episodic flashes of a firefly. “Are you okay, John?” you ask seriously.

“Yeah,” he replies, a prospect that seems implausible.

“I’m glad you called.” You both know what that means: Roger isn’t home, I don’t know where he is, I don’t know when he’s coming back or what condition he’ll be in when he does.

John smirks wryly. “You have a shit husband. I am a shit husband. We should stick together, people like you and me.”

The disco is a small place called Lo Asilo with neon blue lights rimming the entrance way like vines laced through a trellis. John orders a Manhattan for himself, goes back and forth with the bartender for a while about the virgin drink options, ends up passing you a non-alcoholic raspberry mojito.

“I love it,” you pronounce after a tentative sip. This kid loves fruit. And sugar. And you feel a abrupt groundswell of affection for that sometimes inconvenient, frequently anxiety-inducing little person who temporarily shares your blood and bones: who they are, who they one day will be. These moments are coming more and more often, as your future solidifies in some ways and becomes more imprecise in others.

“You’re almost halfway done,” John says, pointing at your belly like he can read your mind.

You sigh. “Do we have to talk about me?”

“We definitely can’t talk about me.” He studies you for a moment, makes mental notes like someone browsing through archaeological artifacts in a museum. Then he realizes: “You don’t want to have to stay home.”

You nod, downing your sort-of-mojito. No offense, kid, but I could really use some mind-numbing inebriation right now.

“Because you don’t trust him...?”

“It’s not quite that,” you reply. “I can’t stand the thought of not being there if something happened to him. If something happened to any of you. If I wasn’t there to at least try to help and someone ended up...you know...” Goddammit, I’m so much more sensitive these days. You force it out. “If someone ended up dying, I wouldn’t be able to live with that.”

“No one’s going to die, love,” he says gently.

“People die all the time. Especially rock stars. Hendrix, Joplin, Morrison, Murcia, McIntosh, Bolin. I could go on. There will be more names a year from now. Maybe some we recognize.”

“What do you want me to do? You want me to haul him off to rehab? You want me to handcuff him to his hotel bed every night we’re on tour? I’ll do it if you think that would help. I’ll do whatever you want. Obviously I don’t want to lose him either. But I’ve never known Roger to be someone you could force into anything.”

“No, he’s definitely not,” you agree softly, in surrender.

The opening notes of Fleetwood Mac’s Go Your Own Way rumble from the stereo. John knocks back the end of his Manhattan and sets the glass on the bar.

“Alright, congratulations, you get your wish.” He grins, holding out his hand. “We don’t have to talk about you anymore.”

“I’m warning you, I am zero percent graceful in my current state.”

“I’ll manage somehow.”

“Loving you

Isn't the right thing to do

How can I ever change things

That I feel?”

John leads, pushing through the crowd to a spot near the center of the kaleidoscopic dance floor. Then he knots his fingers through yours, sways with the music, dances comically sluggishly as you struggle to keep up, twirls you randomly until you’re giggling against him, blushing and not thinking about Roger or the tour or your impending career change at all; and you suspect John isn’t thinking about Veronica either. You belt out the lyrics at the top of your lungs, flouncing around like an extremely ungainly Stevie Nicks, and after a moment John joins you, pumping his fist in the air:

“You can go your own way

Go your own way

You can call it

Another lonely day...”

And it feels good. It feels more than good. It feels almost like being free.

Lindsay Buckingham’s guitar solo splits through the fog-filled room, and your smile begins to fade, recedes like the frothing ocean waves at low tide. And you think, more clearly and more inauspiciously than you ever have in your life: Something’s wrong.

The body knows when it nears catastrophe. There’s a primal dread that sparks up in the blood and nerves and endocrine system, seeps from your pores like smoke, cloaks you in that bleak, biological premonition. Dogs can smell it, can be trained to alert people before that nascent calamity manifests into a cardiac arrest or diabetic coma or asthma attack or stroke; and humans can feel it when that inevitable devastation creeps close enough, when it sharpens its fangs and scrapes them down the jugular. You’ve never truly been able to understand that before. But you recognize it now.

There’s cold sweat springing up on your skin like goosebumps. There’s a stormy rush of blood pounding in your ears. You can’t remember the name of the club, the city, the type of car Roger bought you for Valentine’s Day, the stone gleaming in your ring. The air that you wrench into your lungs is thin and fleeting, without the relief of oxygen. There’s an indescribably heavy iron twist of fear buried in your guts.

John freezes in the middle of the dance floor. “What?” he asks, alarmed.

There’s pain; sudden, sharp, low. Your eyes follow it. There’s blood snaking down your bare thighs. There’s indigo darkness crumbling around the edges of your vision as you sink to the floor. Your knees bruise against cold tile.

Someone is screaming for help; you aren’t sure who. But you reach for them, because they sound so irrevocably strong, because they sound like home. Your fingertips collide with John’s leather jacket.

“Make it stop,” you choke out through bared teeth, as claws of glass and barbed wire tear at where your future once lived. The agony is unnatural, razored, almost surgical.

“I can’t. Here, we’re gonna get you help, hold on, hold on to me—”

“I don’t want to be here anymore,” you sob into John’s neck. His skin is stubbled and dusted with nicotine and flare-hot. He’s trying to drag you to your feet, shouting over his shoulder for someone to call an ambulance. “I don’t want this anymore, I don’t want any of it. I don’t want to see the world. I want to go home.”

“Don’t say that, everything’s going to be okay, they’re coming, listen to me, listen to me, I’m going to get you help—”

“It’s too late,” you whisper. And every light in the world blinks out.

~~~~~~~~~~

It’s February 16th, 1978, and you’re not pregnant at all.

You’re a registered nurse, and so you understand perfectly the terms that the doctors use when they explain to you why it happened, after they do the ultrasound to make sure the miscarriage was complete; when they tell you why it was doomed from the start. Stage 4 endometriosis. Placental abruption. Difficult to conceive, nearly impossible to carry to term. An open and shut case. That’s the genetic lottery, and some people roll straight sevens, blood-red sevens rimmed with fool’s gold.

What you have a harder time understanding is how this could have happened to you. How is it possible to have all of that organic poison building inside of you, all that latent ruin, and yet not know it? To have never had any symptoms besides slightly-more-annoying-than-average periods? To have a nursery set up in one of the five extraneous bedrooms—the one with the blue-grey wallpaper, to be exact—with a crib your child will never use, never peer out of with their tiny fists curled around the wooden bars, never cry out to you in the middle of the night from? To have a list of names scribbled on a notepad stuck to the refrigerator—Roger favors deeply Anglophile possibilities like Arthur and Jasper and Alice, while you tend towards names with a Southern European flair like Aurelia, Callista, Felix, Augustus, although you both quite like the idea of incorporating some variation of John—that you suddenly have no use for? To have to inform your husband, your parents, your friends that there is no baby, that there most likely never will be, and that it’s entirely your fault: So terribly sorry, due to a genetic glitch my womb is rendered inhospitable, we’ll have to leave that ultimate trophy of womanhood off the shelf indefinitely I’m afraid.

You’re in and out through the night. The dreams are murky and fragmented and ominous, jolting you awake four times an hour. John never leaves, except to periodically phone the Surrey house from the nurse’s station. And there’s pain now, of course, even through the haze of the morphine drip—your uterus cramping down to collapse the void, your head splitting from the shock and hormonal bedlam—but it’s almost like that pain belongs to someone else, someone you might have heard of but don’t know especially well. The pain doesn’t surprise you. What surprises you is the totality of the darkness that rolls over you like a quilt, like a second skin.

Shouldn’t I feel at least some infinitesimal amount of relief, of liberation? Shouldn’t I feel free?

“I don’t feel free,” you murmur, your voice hoarse and very quiet.

“What?” John leans into you, takes your hand in his, lays his palm on your forehead and smooths back your hair. Harsh morning sunlight streams in through the window. “What did you say?”

“I don’t feel free at all. I just feel empty.”

His greyish eyes are slick and anguished. “I am so fucking sorry,” he says, his voice breaking.  

You whisper: “He’s never going to be able to love me now.”

“Shhhhh, don’t,” John pleads. “He’s always loved you. As much as he can, and in the way that he can.”

“You’ve been here all night.”

“Of course.” And he hasn’t managed to tell Roger. Which means Roger hasn’t come home yet.

You shake your head groggily. “No, you have your own family. You have to go home.”

“It’s fine, don’t worry about it,” he says tersely.

“John, you have to go home. You have to call at least. Veronica could have gone into labor or something.”

“No, seriously, it’s fine, she pops out one a year no problem. I’m staying.”

A scalding tear slinks down your cheek. “You’re lucky to have her.”

“They must have you on a lot of drugs.”

You laugh, then begin to cry.

“Hey, don’t do that, please don’t do that, shhhh...”

John climbs into the hospital bed and you fold into him, burrow into his warmth that smells like cigarettes and dusky cologne and Manhattans, sob against his chest as he locks his arms around you and pulls you in until there’s no space, no air, no line between you at all.

“You have to be okay,” he murmurs, his lips to your forehead. “I need you to be okay for me. Because when I was messed up I didn’t get better for me, I didn’t do it for me, I got better for you. So now you need to get better too, okay?”

“Okay,” you promise, not meaning it at all.

And he makes you promise again and again until you drift back to sleep with his steady heartbeat drumming against your palm, just loud enough to keep the dreams away.

~~~~~~~~~~

John finally reaches Roger at 9:47 a.m. Roger arrives at the hospital twenty minutes later, his hair a chaotic tangle, his eyes shielded by prescription sunglasses, still wearing the sapphire blue suit he left the house in the night before, his tie undone and several buttons missing from his shirt.

“I’m so sorry,” Roger begins. “I was at this party and met some guys who wanted to collaborate on my solo album, and it turned into a whole...oh, fuck, it doesn’t matter. Is she—?”

John grabs him, pushes him against the hallway wall, yanks off Roger’s sunglasses and pries open his eyes. Roger flinches, but doesn’t struggle.

“What—?”

“I’m making sure you’re not high.” John observes normal pupils and shoves Roger away, disgusted. “Get in there. She needs you.”

“You’ve done a lot for us,” Roger says.

“It’s mutual.”

“Thank you.” There are tears in Roger’s crystalline blue eyes. “Thank you so much, John.”

John nods towards the hospital room. “Just go.”

She wakes up when she hears the door open, and she knows it’s Roger instantly. Of course she does. Everyone knows the way a room changes when Roger walks into it, the way he lights up people and places like wildfire, the way he gets humans addicted to his innate magnetism the same way some are hooked on coke or alcohol or heroin. John isn’t that kind of man, and he knows it. He will never be that kind of man.

“I’m so sorry,” she tells Roger.

Roger shakes his head, cradling her face in his hands. “Baby, I’m not mad. I don’t blame you. I’m not mad at you.”

John watches as she explains everything, as Roger embraces her, as he says all the right things, all those beautiful and hopeful and effortlessly spellbinding things, as she begins—slowly, yes, but unmistakably—to light up again like rising sunlight glinting off quicksilver waves.

And only then does John leave.

[atlafan]

Take it Slow - Part Fifty-Three

a/n: okay this is my first shot at a harry:y/n fic, and it will be multiple parts. y/n had a bad experience with an ex over a year ago, and finally accepts her coworker and good friend Niall’s invitation to go on a blind date with his friend Harry.

Warnings: Fluff, Smut, and some Angst.

Masterpost (all previous parts can be found in the masterpost)

Julia mostly kept her distance from Harry as much as she could for the rest of the week. She was embarrassed by what she had done, or what she had attempted to do. Harry couldn’t wait to get home to you. He felt slightly depressed Friday morning. It was your six month anniversary, and he wasn’t even there to be with you. He didn’t say much at breakfast.

“Everything alright, H? You should be happy, we’ve done great work this week.”

“I’m fine, I-“ His phone goes off. A notification from Instagram and Facebook.

You had edited together a video for him. It was of the two of you, different pictures and videos of the two of you over the last six months with one of your favorite songs in the background. It was a song you two had listened to on the way to New Hampshire. Your message in the caption was short and sweet.

To the man I’m lucky enough to call my boyfriend and the love of my life, six months may not seem like a long time to others, but I have loved nothing more than being with you all this time. You make every day better. I can’t wait to see what the next six months hold for us. I love you, Harry.

Harry put his phone down and put his face in his hands. He starts crying, leaving Christin and Julia deeply concerned and confused.

“Harry?” Christin puts a hand on his shoulder. He slides his phone over to her so she can watch the video. “Oh…honey…” He grabs a napkin and blows his nose. His eyes were red and puffy. “It’s your anniversary?” He nods his head yes. Christin had never seen him like this before. She finally understood he really had it bad. “This was shit timing, I’m so sorry.”

“I need to….I need to go call her, excuse me.” He sniffles and gets up to call you.

“Hi baby.” You coo.

“Hi…saw your video…”

“Are…are you crying?”

“No!” He wipes his eyes. “Okay, maybe a little, but only because it was so sweet and I just wish I was with you.”

“Oh, Harry.” You wish you were there to console him, your sensitive boy.

“Um…before I left I packed away something for you. Can I tell you where it is?”

“You don’t want me to wait until you get back?”

“No, it’s similar to what you did for me, so I want you to have it now.”

“Alright. Where would it be?”

“Go to where all of my picture boxes are.”

“Okay, one sec.” He hears you shuffle around. “Okay.”

“It’s in the box labeled London 2015.”

You open up the box and gasp, a smile grows on Harry’s face. Inside was a photo album with a picture of the two of you on the front. It looked like he had it made himself.

“Printed it at work.”

“Oh my god, Harry.”

“Flip through it later. Just wanted to know you had it.”

“I can’t wait to look through it, this is so sweet. I love you so much.” He feels tears prick at his eyes again.

“I love you too.”

“Only one more sleep baby.”

“I know.”

“I finished my period yesterday, so I’ll be good to go for you.” You joke, trying to make him happier.

“Well, that’s excellent news.” He chuckles, and then sighs. “I have to go…I’ll call you later.”

“Sounds good, can’t wait to see you tomorrow.”

“Me too, love you.”

“Love you too.”

He hangs up the phone and walks back over to the table. He slumps down in his chair. Christin looks at Julia, then to Harry.

“I’ll be fine.” He takes a sip of coffee. “I don’t want a word of this spread, do you both understand?” Christin smiles at him. “What?”

//

You sit down on the sofa with the book. The picture on the front was him kissing you on the cheek on the London Eye. You open it up, and on the first page was a message from him.

To my light, my love, my everything.

You smile big as you flip to the next page. It was the picture of the two of you laughing on the trail when you went to New Hampshire, just underneath was the picture he had taken of you, and the picture you had taken of him. The next page were of some silly selfies and pictures you had taken of each other when you had lazy days at each of your apartments. There were pictures from England he hadn’t shown you. Some from Christmas morning, and others while you walked around London. He must have been planning this book for a while. He had such an incredible eye, he was truly gifted at his craft. There were some pictures form your work party, and he had even managed to squeeze some pictures in from his birthday. When you were done you hugged it to your chest. You felt tears prick at your eyes, you were so overwhelmed.

You spent most of the morning organizing your linen closets, and medicine cabinets. Niall had been a big help all week. He help set up your wifi and TV. You had some pictures printed and put into frames. You left them on the floor under the walls where you wanted them. You didn’t want to hang anything up without Harry though, just to make sure he liked what you had put together.

During the midafternoon, you finally finished putting away all of yours and Harry’s clothes. You hoped he wouldn’t mind the way you folded his laundry, and chose the drawers each article should go in. Niall said he would meet you for dinner that night. At least you’d be able to go out with someone.

You meet him at an easy going bar after work.

“That video you posted was really sweet.”

“Thanks. He made me this really nice book filled with pictures of the two of us. I felt so bad, he called me crying this morning.” Your phone goes from a notification. “Oh wow.” You smile.

“What?”

“He posted about me on his private insta, look.” It was just on photo, and there was no caption, but it meant the world to you. “God, he’s so sweet.” You and Niall dig in to your food. “Are you seeing Sarah tonight?”

“Yeah, she’s comin’ over for dessert.” You both giggle.

“I’m so happy you guys are together. Do you think you two will ever move in together?”

“At some point. I was thinkin’ of givin’ her a key soon.”

“Oh! That’s great.”

“I have to say, selfishly I can’t wait for you to come back to work Monday. Was a borin’ week without ya.”

“I’m so sorry to have done that to you.” You put your hand over his playfully as you speak with a sarcastic tone.

“I ate in my office all week, the one day I tried to eat in the breakroom the old biddies came in and tried to gossip with me.”

“About what?” You laugh.

“I have no idea! I pretended to get a call on my phone and left.” You both laugh.

Dinner with Niall was the perfect distraction from missing Harry. When you get up to your place, and key in, you notice a pair of black boots in the front hall that weren’t there before you left. You practically run into the living room.

“Harry?!” He turns around to look at you, and he smiles brighter than you think you’ve ever seen.

You run into his arms. He picks you up and swings you around, and you wrap your legs around his waist. He stands there, just holding you as close as he can nestling his face into your neck, taking in a deep breath. He never thought he’d miss the smell of apples and cinnamon so much.

“What? How? I’m delighted, but confused.” You say looking at him.

“While I was talking to you this mornin’…Chris saw how upset I was and she changed my flight immediately. She knows her way around a camera, she covered for me today.”

“When did you get here?”

“Like thirty minutes ago. I’ve just been lookin’ around at everything you did. It’s amazing in here, you did such a great job.”

You cup his cheeks in your hands and kiss him, you kiss him so hard you figure his lips will be bruised. He groans into you, and sucks your bottom lip into his mouth. Your tongues collide, and you suck on his. God you missed the way the mint from his gum tasted. He starts walking you both towards the bedroom. Your lips detach as he sets you down, both trying to catch your breaths. He tugs at the hem of your shirt to lift it up overhead.

“I missed you so fuckin’ much.” He says pulling you close and sinking his teeth down into your neck. You moan out, and unhook your bra for him.

“I missed you too.” You say breathlessly.

His hands go right for your breasts, and he twists your nipple piercings. Your head falls back. He plasters wet, open mouthed kisses down your chest, and he takes one of your nipples into his mouth, sucking harshly.

“Ah, fuck.” Your hands reach for his pants. “Want you so bad, Harry.” You undo his belt and unzip his pants.

He shimmies them down his legs, and tugs your pants down as well. He takes his shirt off, grabs you, and practically throws you on the bed. You giggle and take your panties off, throwing them to the floor.

“I don’t even know what I wanna do first, I just want all of you.” He looks down at your body.

“You have me, do whatever you want.” You tilt his chin up so he’ll look at you. “I said you could annihilate me, remember?” You smile. “That is, if you did what I said. Were you a good boy while you were away?”

“Yes, very good. I’m about ready to fuckin’ explode.” He starts to spread your legs apart. “Did you hold up your end? Were you a good girl?”

“Yes, but it wasn’t easy. I was so lonely here all week.” You whimper as his thumb rubs over your clit lightly.

“You were?”

“Yes, wanted you every night.”

“And I bet it was even worse from the hormones?”

“It was torture.” You gasp when his fingers plunge inside you. Your head rolls back into the pillow, and your hand moves to his hair. “Oh my god, oh my god, fuck!” His fingers were already curling up inside you, rubbing against that special spot. His thumb rubs hard against your clit. “Fuck, Harry!” You come on his fingers.

“Jesus, don’t think you’ve ever reacted so quickly.” He smirks.

“Just felt so good.” He takes his fingers out and sucks on them.

“Missed the way you tasted.”

Your tongue peaks out of your mouth and he leans down to kiss you. You wrap your arms and legs around him. He slides his tip against your folds, just grinding against you.

“Please, Harry.”

“Can’t hear ya, love.”

“Please, for the love of god, put it in! Fuck me!”

Harry grins, and pushes inside of you. You both gasp at how tight and snug the fit is.

“Christ, a week without me and you…I mean…this is how it was when I first fingered you.” He bites down on your neck again and you arch up into him. “Feels so fuckin’ good.” He breathes into your ear.

Your nails rake up his back as he starts to move. Your heels dig into the backs of his legs as he gets a rhythm going.

“You’re so big, Harry.” You say against his neck. “Love the way you fill me up.”

“Tell me you’ve never been fucked like this before.”

“I’ve never been fucked like this before. No one’s ever fucked me the way you do. I only ever want you inside me, forever.”

“Jesus, shit.” He pulls all the way out of you and flips you over. His ring clad hands squeeze your cheeks and you gasp. “Is this oaky? Can we do this?”

You look back at him over your shoulder, and grin.

“Wreck me, babe.”

His eyes grow wild. He grips your hips, and brings you up closer to him. You prop yourself onto your elbows. Harry lines himself up with your dripping center, and slowly slides in. The moan he makes is music to your ears, but you can’t help but clench tightly around him.

“Just me babe, you’re okay.” You relax slightly. He starts to move in and out of you slowly. “You have no idea how fuckin’ good this feels, and you looks beautiful from this angle.”

You moan in response and grip the blankets, your knuckles growing white. He keeps one hand on your hip and the other slides up your back. He desperately wanted to wrap his fist around your hair and pull you back to him, but he didn’t want to scare you.

“Doin’ alright?” He breathes harshly.

“Mhm.” You weren’t though. It felt really good, but you were struggling to stay in the moment.

He was hitting deep inside you. He lowers himself slightly, and reaches one of his hands around to rub your clit. You back your ass up against him.

“Shit, I’m not gonna last much longer.” He groans. You continue to grind back against him as he rubs your clit.

He fully lays on your back as he pumps in and out of you, making you collapse fully to the bed. The angle of his dick this was delicious and deep. You let out a loud moan, finally feeling like you could enjoy the position. You felt hot all over. Your orgasm was just around the corner.

“Harry, ngh, I’m gonna come. Holy shit! I’m gonna come!”

His release comes at the same time as yours. You weren’t sure what sound you let out, but you missed the way his hot come filled you up so much.

“Put your fingers in after you pull out.”

He does as you say and you arch up into him. He was still trying to catch his breath. You open your mouth for him and turn your head slightly to take his fingers into your mouth. You suck on his fingers and lap around them with your tongue. When you’re done, you roll over onto your back. You wipe your eyes. Your makeup got all fucked up.

“Were you okay?”

“Yeah.” You squeak.

“You’d tell me if you weren’t?”

“Yes, baby.” You push the hair that fell onto his forehead back.

“This room is huge.” He chuckles.

“I know! I put all our clothes away today. I’ve been loving the shower too, so much room.”

“Do you have plans tomorrow? Can we just stay here all day?”

“My only plans were picking you up from the airport.” You giggle. He turns your body towards his and squishes his nose to yours.

“Can I take ya out on a nice date tomorrow night? To make up for tonight?”

“You have nothing to make up for. Having you home a day early was the best surprise…but yes, I’d love to go on a date with you.”

“Good.” He kisses your lips lightly.

“Your gift was so lovely.”

“You looked through it?”

“Mhm, it was so sweet.”

“S’not all I got you.” He gets off the bed.

“Harry, we said no crazy gifts.” You sit up against the headboard.

“I know, it’s not crazy.” He rummages through his bag and takes out a long box. “Here.”

“Harry…”

“Just open it.” You open the box and smile. “Got you a proper chain for my ring.”

“I love it, thank you so much.” He leans down so you can kiss him.

“Do we have any food, I’m starvin’.”

“Let me make you something!” You switch the ring to the new chain. You gesture to have him help you clasp it. “Thanks. How’s it look?”

“Absolutely perfect.”

“Have you taken your pearls off?”

“Not once.” He smiles.

You get up and grab your robe out of the closet. You grab a brand new one out for him.

“What’s this?”

“Got you a robe of your own.” You giggle.

“I’m honored.” He puts it on, and follows you out to the kitchen.

“My mom said she wants to take us shopping for a proper dining room table.”

“She doesn’t have to do tha’.”

“I told her over and over, but she insisted.” You shrug. “What are you hungry for? I’ve got a salad made up, some leftover veggies and rice, some-“

“Veggies and rice, please.”

“You got it.”

You take the container out of the fridge and put some in a bowl for him to heat up. He wraps his arms around you from behind, and he nuzzles into the back of your neck.

“Mm, so cozy.” You coo.

“Missed ya so much, I can’t wait to cuddle all night.”

“Me too, baby.”

And you did. Harry kept his arms and legs wrapped around you all night. You slept pretty peacefully until you woke up drenched in sweat. He was fully on top of you, with his head on your chest, drool dripping down his chin. You sigh and try to turn over, but there’s no use. You chuckle softly to yourself and try to fall back asleep.

//

Harry didn’t let you leave the bed for nearly two hours when you first got up. He was like a ravenous animal. But you didn’t mind, you pretty hungry for him too. Distance truly makes the heart grow fonder. His stamina never ceased to amaze you. After another quick fuck in your giant shower, he gave you some time to yourself to get dressed.

He was in the kitchen making you some eggs when you came out in a sports bra and leggings. He plated them up for you, and put some toast on the side.

“Mm, thank you, I’m starving!”

“I’ll bet.” He smirks.

“Shut up.” You shovel the food into your mouth.

“Noticed some pictures and frames lyin’ around.”

“I didn’t want to hang anything up without you, baby. It’s not just my place it’s ours.” He smiles.

“After we eat we can hang some up, yeah?”

“Sounds good, and I left the heavy stuff alone like you said.”

“Good. I’m gonna bring a ton of my pictures up to the loft. Was thinkin’ of havin’ Niall over tomorrow so he could help me put my desk back together.”

“I can do that, I’m pretty handy.”

“Oh really?” He smirks.

“Yes, actually. My dad’s an electrician remember? He practically rebuilt our entire house. I helped him a lot. I know how to use a drill.”

“Okay then, will yeh help me with that today? I’d like to get all my shit up and runnin’.”

“Sure!” You kiss him on his cheek and clean up your plate.

Harry gets the tool box out and you start hanging up various pictures, a mixture of what you had hung up at both of your places. You kept some of the family photos in the hallways so they weren’t so “in your face”. There were a few you had printed of the two of you that you wanted hung up as well.

“Where do yeh want these, love?”

“I don’t know, I don’t want to be obnoxious with how cute we are…” He laughs.

“We could put them on the book shelves instead of hangin’ ‘em up.”

“Oh good idea. I wanna keep this one on my night table actually.” You snatch one of them and go into your bedroom to put it where you want. You come back out and see him placing the others in various spots.

“Ready to do my desk?”

“Yup!”

You help him carry up the pieces. Your desk was already up there and set up. It was the perfect space, and you enjoyed working up there.

“Can you hold the flashlight f’me, the screw holes on this thing are so fuckin’ dark.”

“Mhm.”

He gets under part of the desk with the screw driver and a few screws between his lips. You hold the flashlight for him how he asked. He gets the screws in, you loved watching him do this, you weren’t sure why. He stands up.

“There, didn’t need Niall at all.”

“Guess so.” He smirks. “Shall we break it in?”

“What?” You giggle.

“Let me bend ya over it.” He grabs at your hips.

“Little sore for that right now, you kept me pretty busy this morning.” He pouts his bottom lip out at you. “Oh stop it.” You swat an arm at him. “Let’s get your monitor and printer hooked up.”

“Fine.” He sighs.

You get him all set up, and move some of his equipment around so it looks nice and organized.

“Still plenty of room up here too.”

“I know! I was thinking when the holidays roll around we could decorate the staircase with lights and stuff, I think it would look really pretty.”

“I think that’s a great idea.” He kisses the top of your head and you both go down the spiral staircase.

“Do you think every apartment here has a loft?”

“I don’t know, they could. Be really cool if they were all set up different.” He wraps his arms around you. “I appreciate you gettin’ so much done while I was gone. The place really looks great babe.” You lean up and kiss his nose.

“I was happy to do it.”

“I hope they don’t send me off like that again for a while. I had some fun while I was down there, but it would’ve been better with you.”

“You’re so cute.” You nuzzle your face into his chest. “Where you taking me tonight?”

“Somewhere really nice, way over the top.”

“Oh, Harry…I don’t wanna spend a lot of money.”

“You won’t be spendin’ a dime.” He pats your bum and goes to sit on the couch. He catches you rolling your eyes right as he sits down. “Don’t.”

“Don’t what?” You sit down next to him, turning the TV on.

“Roll your eyes at me.” You turn your face slowly towards him. “Don’t do it?”

“Why? What are you gonna do about it? Spank me?” You scoff. His mouth forms into a straight line. “You’re a freak.” You shake your head and turn back to the TV. Your face snaps back to him.

“What?”

“You won’t spank our kids will you? I don’t believe in that.”

“Y/N…” He sighs. “How did your mind even just go there?”

“I don’t know!” You both start laughing hysterically.

“To answer your question, no I wouldn’t spank our kids. Only person gettin’ a spank to their ass in this house is you baby girl.” Your jaw drops.

“You need to stop.”  

“Why?” He smirks.

“Why do you want to spank me so bad?”

“Love watchin’ that ass ripple.”

“Harry!” You smack him in the arm and get up.

“What?” He says laughing.

“I’m very self-conscious about my butt.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me.” He gets up. “You have the most perfect ass I’ve ever seen in my life.”

“But it’s so jiggly.” You pout.

“Yeah…it’s sexy.”

“Stop it.”

“It is! Love that I have somethin’ to hold onto.” You scrunch your face at him.

“Don’t say stuff like that.”

“You know you have a beautiful body, why are you gettin’ like this?”

“I’m not getting like anything.” You pout. “I just don’t like everything about my body…”

“Would you rather have a flat ass?”

“No! That’s not what I’m saying…I don’t know. I have stretch marks and-“

“Y/N, please, I can’t listen to you talk about yourself like that.” He puts his hands on your shoulders. “I wouldn’t let anyone talk about you like that, including yourself. Just don’t.”

“I can’t help that I feel that way sometimes.”

“You take such good care of yourself, inside and out. You’re so beautiful, every part of you is beautiful, okay?” You nod reluctantly. “Thank you.” He kisses your forehead.

“I’m gonna go pick an outfit out.” He nods and lets you walk away.

Harry had been around women his whole life. There was plenty he understood, but the one thing he would never understand is how a woman’s mind could just flip a switch like that. One second you’re having fun banter, and the next you’re talking shit about yourself from simple comment he made. He had no idea you felt that way about yourself. He figured you just preferred the lights off most times because you were shy, not because you were self-conscious. He ran a hand through his hair and walked to go stand in the doorway of your bedroom.

You were standing in front of your closet pondering on what you might like to wear. It was a little colder out, and you weren’t sure you felt like a dress. You had a really nice pair of black dress pants that were slightly high waisted, so you pull those out and lay them on the bed. You turn and see Harry standing in the doorway.

“What are you doing?” You chuckle.

“Just makin’ sure you’re alright.”

“I’m fine.” You look back at your closest and pull out a few tops that would work with the pants. “Think I’m gonna go for slacks tonight.”

“Anything you wear will be perfect.”

“Alright mooshball.” You shake your head at him. You pick up a long sleeve pastel blue crop top and decide that would look nice with the pants. There was a cute ruffle on the bottom so your skin would barely even be showing. “I’m gonna take some time to do my hair and makeup, okay?”

“Okay.”

Harry goes up to the loft to get a jump on his pictures form Florida. You shake your hair out and run your curler through it. You brush out the curls to get a nice wave. You put your clothes on and start to do your makeup. Harry comes down to get dressed himself. He didn’t see you because you were in the bathroom. He pulled out a white button up and a navy pair of dress pants. You come out of the bathroom and smile as he pulls up his pants.

“Handsome.” You coo. He turns to look at you.

“You look gorgeous.”

“Thanks baby.”

“Love the way my ring looks on that chain.” You twist it between your fingers.

“Me too.” You slip your feet into a pair of one inch black heels. You knew they wouldn’t hurt your feet too much.

Harry tucks his pearls under the collar of his shirt and smile at the way the rest of the dangle. You were happy he was happy with them. He runs his hands through his hair a couple times and turns towards you.

“Shall we?”

“Mhm.”

He keeps his hand on your thigh the entire car ride. He takes you to a fancy French restaurant that you had heard of, but had never been to. You go inside and are seated right away. Harry must have made the reservation when he thought he was still going to be away. Harry has your favorite wine ordered to the table, and you clink your glasses once it’s poured.

“Happy six months, love.”

“Happy six months.” You both smile and take a sip. You lick your lips after. You end up ordering a bowl of creamy tomato soup and a salad. Harry ordered ratatouille.

“Soup and salad is really all you want?” He looks slightly disappointed.

“Yeah, I love cream of tomato soup. I got a whole bowl, I’m excited.” You take another sip of the wine.

The food was delicious. You couldn’t help the small moan you let out when you tasted the soup. Harry told you more about his trip, and what it was like to dive under water.

“Wish I could’ve seen you in the wet suit.” You giggle.

“There was no wet suit, I went in with a t-shirt and trunks on. They hooked me up with some air and I went under.”

“Is that safe?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs. “Water was plenty warm for me.”

“I’m sure Julia enjoyed seeing you in a drenched t-shirt.”

“God, please, don’t say that.” He groans.

“Is everything going to be okay with her at work?”

“I think so. She sort of let me be the rest of the week. I think she was embarrassed.”

“Good, she should be. Trying to make a move on my man like that.” You take a bite of your salad.

“Didn’t seem too upset about it over the phone.” He smirks.

“I’m still not upset. I’m just saying, I’m glad you put her in her place. Hope it’s not weird for her next time I show up at the studio.”

“She’ll probably steer clear of you.” He gasps with excitement. “Maybe this means she’ll bother me less in general. Wouldn’t that be nice?” You laugh at him and shake your head. “I have to go to my old campus Wednesday night by the way.”

“For what?”

“Lou’s gonna pop the question to El.”

“That’s so exciting!”

“I’m going to hide somewhere to take pictures for them.”

“They both have the day off from work?”

“Guess so.” He shrugs.

“The day after that is Valentine’s Day, why wouldn’t he just propose then?”

“Didn’t want it to be too corny.”

“I get that, it’s kind of tacky to propose on a holiday now that I think about it.”

“What makes it tacky?”

“I don’t know, if something went wrong the holiday would be tainted forever. You’re also sharing it with everyone else in the world. A day like that should be special and totally your own. Props to him.” Harry takes in everything you’re saying and makes a mental note.

You look over out the window in the restaurant and notice that it’s snowing. You grimace.

“What’s wrong, love?”

“Nothing, I’m just done with winter I think. I’m counting down the days until I got to Aruba already.”

“Oh.”

“Booked my flight while you were gone, I got a really good deal. I managed to get on the same flight as my mom too. You’d be fine having her spend the night with us before right? We have a really early flight and since you and I live closer to the airport I thought she could stay with us.”

“Yeah, that’s fine. When do you leave?”

“Um, a couple days before Easter I think. Has your mom and sister said if they’re coming here or not?”

“Haven’t exactly had a chance to talk about it with them.” His jaw tenses and you notice immediately.

“Are you mad at me?”

“No, why would you think that?”

“Just this whole vibe you’re giving off right now.” You gesture in his direction. “You’re allowed to leave for a week for a work thing, but I can’t go on a family trip?”

“I never said that.”

“Well, that’s how you’re acting.” You cross your arms.

“I’m not going to fight with you right now.”

“Who said we were fighting?”

“Y/N, cut the attitude, we’re in a restaurant.” You scoff at him.

“I’m not the one with the attitude, you are.”

“Don’t you think it would be nice for you and I to take a tip to some tropical island together?”

“Harry, of course I would love to do that with you, but my Nannie invited me to come on her annual trip, and I had a lot of fun last year. It’s really hard for her to go there by herself because her and my Papa went there together for like twenty years. She needs me there.” You feel tears start to prick at your eyes.

“Calm down, I never said you couldn’t go.” Your eyes widen with rage.

“As if I needed your permission.”

“S’not what I meant.” You roll your eyes at him. “Jesus, fuck, this was supposed to be a nice dinner.”

“And it is, the food is delicious.” He sighs heavily.

“I feel like I can never say anythin’ right sometimes.”

“You say a lot of things right, but I’m going to call you out of I notice something. I’ve known you long enough to pick up on when you’re mad about something.”

“Oh really?”

“Yeah really. The second I saw your jaw tense.”

“It’s so cool how you put your communication degree to work like that. All that knowledge about nonverbal communication and shit.” He says facetiously.

“Alright, I’m done.” You say putting your fork down.

“What do you mean you’re done?”

“Please, get the check from the waiter.” You stand up and put your jacket on. “I’ve lost my appetite.” You reach into his jacket pocket and pull out his keys. “I’ll be in the car.” He grabs your wrist.

“Are you serious?”

“You wanna be a child and act up in a public place? I’m going to sit there and have you talk to me like that.” You yank your wrist free and walk out of the restaurant. You get into the passenger seat of the car and turn it on. You take a deep breath and wait for him. You truly didn’t understand him sometimes.

#harry styles #take it slow #harry styles x reader #harry styles y/n #harry styles x y/n #harry styles fluff #harry styles smut #harry styles angst #harry styles fluff fic #harry styles smut fic #harry styles angst fic #harry styles imagine #harry styles fic #here you go! #hope it was worth the wait #cant wait to know what you think #i know some of you are going to be mad at me

[surveys-at-your-service]

Survey #442

“the more you suffer, the more it shows you really care, right?”

Would you ever sell your soul? No. Do you believe that something is going to happen in 2012? Welp, clearly not. I never believed it. Have you ever been to the Grand Canyon? No, but I'd love to! When was the last time you slept in someone else’s bed? Uhhh not since I visited Sara, I think. Do you like your music loud or at a reasonable level? Loud, for sure. Louder than I should listen to. Did the last person you kiss have a tattoo? No. What’s the last song you heard? "The Bird and the Worm" by The Used. Has anyone told you they missed you lately? No. What are you most likely to do when you’re exhausted; take a nap, drink some coffee, or go for a run to get yourself pumped up again? Naps definitely win. What are you most likely to pick if you got to choose your topic on a research paper; drug abuse, mental illness, or the death penalty? Mental illness, for sure. What is your favorite month of the year and why? October, bc aesthetic. What’s your least favorite animal? Probably wasps. They're mean fuckers that kill bees. What was your class song when you graduated? Some super shitty country song. Have you ever had to spend the night outside (not camping)? No. What`s the scariest living animal that you`ve petted? A tarantula, I'd say. She was a sweet rose hair that I literally did pet, which you absolutely should not do to tarantulas, but I knew nothing about them at the time. The urticating hairs on their abdomens cause serious itching, and I tell ya, that sure happened. So did you play old school Nintendo or Atari or Sega? If so which one? We had an old Atari for a long time. When/where did you meet your first love? In the hallway, during my sophomore year of high school. Is there anyone you dislike, that you have to see/speak to regularly? Hm, what qualifies as "regularly," really? I don't like my sister's husband, who I see semi-regularly, but I don't really talk to him. Does your family eat any unique foods for Thanksgiving that aren’t the norm? If so, what are they? Nah, not that I can think of. If you eat oatmeal, do you add water or milk to it? What is your favorite flavor? Milk; I don't like it with water. I only eat the apples and cinnamon kind. Was the last video you watched on YouTube a music video? If not, what was it of? It's a let's play. Have you ever been brave enough to cut your hair in a very different way? If you have, did you regret your decision after? Yes, and I still love it. What was the last book you had to read for school? Did you enjoy it, or were you just trying to get through? The Handmaid's Tale by Margaret Atwood. I loved it. Has anyone you know personally ever won the lottery? If so, how much did they win? Would/have you ever play(ed) the lottery? No to both questions. I have a very addictive personality, so I don't really mess with dangerous things that might tempt that behavior. What band/celebrity/etc. do you know the most information about? Who would you like to learn more about? Markiplier, ha ha. As for who I'd like to know more about... hm. Have your friends met the last person you kissed? Girt has. Who has made the biggest difference in your life? Jason. You get a text from someone saying that they want to hang out - who would you most like it to be from? Also Jason. -_- What is the name on your birth certificate (feel free to withhold your last name for privacy reasons)? Brittany Marie is all you need to know. Even if shopping isn’t your favorite... every girl has a favorite store. What’s yours? My favorite physical store is Hot Topic, but my favorite store overall is Rebel's Market, which I'm pretty sure is just an online source. Which type of undies do you wear most: Thongs, bikini/briefs, bootyshorts, or granny panties? Don't you dare laugh, I prefer "granny panties" lmfao. They're what I'm comfortable in, okay. How many nail polishes do you have, if you were to take a guess? *I* have none. Idk about Mom, but I know not a lot. Are you on birth control? Do you use condoms? I use birth control to regulate my period and ease cramps. If I was sexually active though, both would be musts for me. When did you start your period? How did you react? Who did you tell first? When I got home from school sometime in middle school. I don't remember exactly how old I was, but I was EXTREMELY upset. Like, I cried, because I didn't feel like a kid anymore. My mom was the first to know. Have you ever had sex while on your period? If so, would you ever do it again? NO NO NO NO THAT SOUNDS SO GROSS LKASDFJ;AJW;LKERJA;WEJLRKQWLKE;JR. Which way do you swing (boys, girls, or both)? I'm bi. Or pan. I really don't know. Tell me ALL about your longest/most serious relationship. Are you still in that relationship? How about I don't, because doing that I'm sure will send me in a PTSD spiral. No, we're no longer together. Who is your ALL TIME best friend (don’t count your boyfriend, either, silly!)? Sara. I don't think I've been as close with any other best friend. Which one of your friends has the best singing voice? SARAAAAAAAAAAA. What shade are you in foundation or concealer? I don't have a clue. I don't wear either. Have you ever showered with someone? Boy or girl? Were you completely naked? "Were you completely naked." No, I shower with underwear on. I've showered with my little sister as well as my best friend as a kid. I've never shared a shower as an adult and don't want to. Do you think you’re good enough for the person you like? No. Are you a cuddler or no? If I'm really into you, YUP. And if it's not hot. Wouldn’t it be kinda annoying to have to share a bed every night? No. I miss it sometimes. Have you ever walked on a beach at night? Yes. It's beautiful. Could you go the rest of your life without drinking alcohol? Pretty easily, yeah. Would you marry someone you didn’t love if you were paid 10 thousand dollars? No. I just wouldn't be able to stomach doing that. I'm solely marrying for love. Have you had sex today? I haven't in many years. Do you still care about your last ex? Very very much! Do you own more then one bathing suit? Nope. Is there any alcohol in the fridge? Yeah, but none I like. Who have you recently made up with after fighting? Nobody. Who do you WANT to make up with? Jason. Megan. Do you get scared easily? Hm. It really depends on the situation. Have you seen UP? Never the full movie, actually. I need to. How many coats of mascara do you use? I use it so rarely that I barely know. Two, maybe? What’s your favorite bracelet? The one Sara gave me. I used to always wear it, but it's worn down with time and is too loose for me now, so it's just with my jewelry. What color hair does your mom have? It's naturally gray now, but she dyes it black. Favorite song to listen to when you are mad? "Headache" by Motionless In White does it. What restaurant would you want to work at? NONE. I ain't working with hungry people. I don't want to work with people - period. When people ask “how are you?” do you say “good” even if you aren’t? Depends on who's asking. If it's a stranger or someone I barely know, odds are I'm just going to reply with "fine" or something like that. Were you honestly a good kid? Yes. Is anything wrong with your eyes? I have to wear glasses, so. Have you kissed or hugged anyone today? No. What is your mom’s and dad’s favorite TV show? I don't really know for either. Mom watches loads of shows, and I don't live with Dad, so. I know he really likes The Big Bang Theory, though, which Mom also loves. Have you ever suspected your mom or dad of having an affair? No, but ~supposedly~, Dad did with his now-wife. I don't know what the fuck is true between my parents, though. Do you think buying second hand clothes is gross? It depends on the type of clothing (ex., used underwear is a huge fucking no), as well as the state it's in. Does it gross you out when your parents kiss? They're divorced. That would be incredibly weird, uncomfortable, and impossible with how I know at least Mom feels towards Dad. Do you have a playlist made on YouTube? Yeah, multiple. Do you like dollar stores? I mean, sure? They have good deals occasionally and are a good option to stop for a quick snack or something. Mom doesn't actually *shop* in them, though. What’s the last thing you bought from one? I think a honeybun. Do you think it’s weird how babies are made? Well, yeah. Science can be crazy, though. Have you ever lost a friend over the opposite sex? No. Are you comfortable in a short skirt? I wouldn't be comfortable in ANY skirt. Do you and your family go on a vacation ever year? We essentially never do. Vacations cost money. We don't have money to spare. When you were going out with your last ex and you had the chance to date your celebrity crush, would you have left your bf/gf for them? No, because it's not like I know him personally, while I know her very deeply. Who was your most romantic moment with? Jason. Do you sweat easily? Like you wouldn't BELIEVE. A side effect of one (or even multiple) of my meds is hyperhidrosis, so I can sweat an ocean in two minutes, it seems. It's disgusting, and I am so self-conscious about it. What’s one memory you wish would just vanish? Just a specific moment with Jason that is particularly agonizing to recall. Are you in love with someone? No. Partying or watching a movie? Partying isn't my thing. I'd have more fun watching a movie with friends. What pisses you off the most? Child molesters/rapists, probably. Where do you want to be at a year from now? I just want a job by then, dude. I also hope I've lost a lot of weight. Do you like pickles? Only dill pickles. If you saw someone broken down on the side of the road, would you stop to help? Honestly, no. I don't trust people. What do you do with your plastic grocery bags after you unload your things? We put our plastic bags into one big bag for later use. Have you ever slept in a water bed? Yes. How often do you use Flickr? I don't. I only ever check my friend's for meerkat photos, ha ha. Share three nice memories you have of the person you fell hardest for. No, unless you want me to cry. Have you ever made any of your friends cry? Not deliberately of course, but yes. Do you look decent in your most recent photograph? God no, I look high. Out of all the guys you know, who would you trust to not cheat on you? Girt. I know he never would, especially because HE'S been cheated on. How do you plan on disciplining your children? NOT by physical means, I can tell you that much. If I actually had kids, I'd teach them through (hopefully) primarily deeply talking things out. If need be, there'd be time out, grounding, things like that. I do NOT support methods like spanking your kid, so that's a big no. If you could live in another country, would you? What country? Yes; Canada. If you could change your name, what would you change it to? Quinn, probably. What’s one health problem you wish you didn’t have? It's a tie between depression and anxiety. What is your cure for hiccups? NOTHING works for me. It's the worst. Did you ever do anything in class that annoyed other students? I mean, I don't think so. Have you used a Ouija board and had a freaky experience with it? I've never messed with one, and I don't want to. I don't know if I believe in their supernatural abilities or not, but I ain't fuckin around and finding out. Do you stick with a political party, or vote for who you like best? I pick based on their policies and morals, not necessarily their party. Do you know anyone who is an albino? No. Word search or crossword puzzle? Word searches. When you watch a game show, do you like to see people win or lose? Aw, who wants to see them lose? It's great to see people win and be so excited. Do you have a pair of fake redneck, vampire, etc. teeth? No. What is your favorite Pixar film? Finding Nemo. Do you get really mad when you lose a game? Not at all. I'm not very competitive, and games are about having fun. When was the last time you used a pay phone? I actually don't think I ever have. Who did you have your most amazing kiss with? Jason. Do you go to church every Sunday? I never go to church as I'm not religious. If you had to get famous for one of the following, which would you choose: music, acting, writing, modeling? Writing. What do you think of girls with huge boobs that don’t wear bras in public? Who the fuck cares. If they're comfortable and at least have a shirt on, let 'em. Most women have breasts, big whoop. Do you even like politics? God no. What’s it like at raves? Oh god, I'd never go. Have you ever had a dream in which you were making out, or more, with someone? lol yes

#survey #surveys #random questions #lyrics: ''self esteem'' by the offspring