#I love when the temple sets up photoshoots like this | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

avatar-anna · 1 year

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Family First

summary: reader feels alone during the holidays

part of this universe!

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“Come on, Simone, smile for Mommy!”

Y/n used her sweetest voice, but her daughter continued to cry. Setting her camera down, she sighed, rubbing away the dull throb forming at her temples.

Becoming a parent before she turned twenty was not part of Y/n’s five-year plan, or any plan, but now that she was a mother, she couldn’t think of any other way she wanted to be living her life. She loved her daughter, she loved her boyfriend, and despite the ups and downs of being a parent at such a young age, she thought she was handling it all fairly well. Well, as well as one could when your boyfriend/baby daddy spent his time all over the world performing for thousands of people and lived in a different corner of the world prior to their little bundle of joy coming into their lives.

But aside from that, motherhood was great.

Y/n tried to get Simone to calm down for the camera for a couple more minutes but eventually gave up when it was clear the infant was not having it. She'd wanted to have a cute little photoshoot to put on her and Harry's first ever Christmas card as a family. She always saw pictures of babies in cute holiday onesies or nestled in a little Christmas present or tangled in tree lights, and she thought that she could do something like that. Something a cute Pinterest mom could do.

Even if she was adjusting to her new life as a mother, it was by no means a walk in the park. Simone was a relatively mellow baby, something Y/n often thanked her lucky stars for, but Y/n still felt like she was hardly a person sometimes. There were days where she would go without sleeping or showering, and on the days where Harry's mom came to help out, Y/n was spending most of her time doing online school. She knew things could be worse, of course she knew that, but she couldn't help but think that mothers online and in movies and TV shows made it seem so easy.

It was why she was so determined to do this photoshoot. It seemed simple enough—get Simone into a festive outfit, position her in front of the Christmas tree, and point and shoot.

It turned out that it was much harder than she thought.

The minute Y/n tried to get her little baby into the patterned snowman onesie she bought yesterday, chaos ensued. Simone fought Y/n at every turn, kicking her little legs as she tried to get the onesie on, screaming and tossing and turning anytime a camera was even in her general vicinity.

"Simone, please. Please stop crying. I just want one picture," Y/n said, almost on the verge of tears herself. Her daughter's lungs seemed to have great stamina, and the pitch of her cries was shrill. Her father's daughter through and through. It was driving her crazy.

Sighing, Y/n put her camera down and picked up Simone. Her little face was scrunched up and red, no amount of cooing or mumbling of kind words was able to calm her down. It was weeks like this where Y/n felt her lowest. Harry was gone on tour, his mother had gone back to Holmes Chapel for a few days, and she was completely and utterly alone in a big, empty house in a country she was hardly familiar with.

Before Simone was born, Harry and Y/n decided that their home would be in London. It was extremely hard to be away from her family, especially at a time like this, but Harry already had a house that was big enough for the three of them, and his mother had volunteered to move in with them for the first few months. Y/n's parents hadn't agreed per se, but they also hadn't been the most accepting of the situation. It wasn't a reason to move across the world, but being around people who were totally supportive was nice.

The days when she took care of Simone on her own were the hardest. Even on easy days, Y/n felt like she was drowning. And today, she just wanted to do this one little thing to raise her spirits while Harry was away. He wasn't due back home for another week, and he missed Y/n and Simone as much as they missed him. She just thought she would do something fun for him and for herself. A cute little surprise gesture.

ping!

Y/n looked over to where her phone was sitting on the floor next to her discarded camera, a small smile breaking out on her face. Just when she needed him, he was there. Virtually, at least.

h <3: miss you loadss xxx

Attached to the text was a picture of him in his concert outfit. His hair was swept to one side, though it was shorter now than when Y/n first met him, curling just a little past his ears instead of the mop it has once been. He was smiling from ear to ear, his hand in a thumbs-up gesture next to his face. Seeing him made Y/n's heart flutter, and she decided to snap a picture of her own.

Angling her phone in the air, she snapped a picture of her and Simone, who was still screaming her head off.

Y/n: we miss you more :(((

It was hard taking care of Simone while Harry was gone so much, but Y/n also didn't want to travel the world with an infant, and Harry agreed. He had begged for time off, but all his management team told him was that he should be lucky they were working so hard to keep Y/n and Simone out of the press. It was a shit situation, but it also could've been a lot worse. That had become the mantra of the year. Things could be worse.

h <3: three more sleeps until i'm back with my girls

Smiling, Y/n put her phone down and kissed her daughter's cheek. "Come on, little one. Let's see about this screaming, hm? Talk to me. What's wrong?"

She walked all over the house with Simone in her arms, singing her favorite songs and bouncing her a little. When that didn't work, she changed and fed her, then rocked her in her rocking chair until she eventually fell asleep. Well, both of them did. Y/n hadn't meant to, but she couldn't help it. She hadn't gotten much sleep the last couple days.

When she woke up, it was dark outside, and Simone was staring up at her with wide eyes. Y/n slowly blinked the sleep out of her eyes and sat up in the rocking chair. "Good morning, my little angel. Did you have as good of a nap as Mommy?"

Simone seemed to be in much better spirits now that she had slept and was out of her snowman onesie, which Y/n was thankful for, even if she had completely failed at getting a nice photo of her daughter. Maybe next year.

Deciding it was dinnertime, Y/n took Simone downstairs. She set her up on her playmat while she fixed something up for herself, but before she could even open the refrigerator, the crying was back in full force.

Her arms were full of Simone and not dinner in no time, settling down on the couch to try and feed her. She had only been sitting for a couple minutes when there was a knock on the door.

Y/n hated herself for it, but she found herself mumbling, "Please be Anne, Please be Anne, Please be Anne."

It was a strength to ask for help. Admitting that she couldn't do this alone was a good thing. At least that's what Y/n told herself whenever she picked up the phone to call Harry's mom or silently wished to herself that she could be baby-free for just twenty minutes.

Y/n opened the door, the person on the other side making her think that all of Simone's crying really had made her go crazy.

"Harry?"

"Merry Christmas, love."

"Wh—I don't understand—Your text..."

What was he doing here? Harry had a couple more shows before he was supposed to be back, yet here he was, standing at their doorstep in a pair of jeans and a dark gray hoodie and smiling widely at her.

"I was missing the two of you too much, so I came home," he said. "Can I come in?"

Still in shock, Y/n wordlessly let him inside. Harry's arms immediately went out to Simone, and she handed her over to him. The baby still cried, but Harry hardly flinched, holding her close to his chest and mumbling incoherently into her ear.

"She been like this all day?" Harry asked, walking further into the house.

"Yeah. I tried to take some cute Christmas photos, but our little hellion hates the holidays, apparently."

"Aw, no, munchkin. Don't be so blue, eh? Daddy's here now," he mumbled against Simone.

The image painted in front of Y/n made her want to cry. She and Harry were young, she knew that. But seeing him standing in the middle of their house and holding their daughter felt so right.

"Why don't you go relax upstairs for a little," Harry said. He was bouncing Simone a little to try to get her to calm down.

"Really?" she asked.

"Of course. Gotta get some Daddy-daughter time in after being away for so long. But first," he said, coming closer to Y/n.

With his free arm, he pulled her in for a hug, squeezing her tight. Y/n tipped her head up and met Harry's awaiting kiss. His lips were a little dry from the flight, but they tasted the same as they always did. In a lot of ways, London wasn't really Y/n's home, but she didn't care because Harry was her home, their little family made this place home for her.

"I missed you so much," she mumbled against him, her hand twisting in the curls at the nape of his neck. "I know you can't put your life on hold, in fact, I don't even want to know how you snuck away from a world tour, but I really needed this. Needed you."

He kissed the top of your head gently. "Y/n, you put your entire world on hold to have this baby, to move here to London. The very least I can do is sneak away a few days early to see my girls."

Y/n rested her head against Harry's chest, sighing against the soft material of his hoodie, feeling more relaxed than she had in months.

She and Harry weren't in love when she found out she was pregnant. They'd been seeing each other for a little while, having met while he was shooting a music video for One Direction. They'd kept in touch even after he'd left, meeting when they could and messaging each other when they couldn't. Y/n really liked him, and she could tell Harry really liked her too, but they weren't in love.

It was during the months that she was pregnant that they fell in love. Y/n honestly thought that she would never hear from Harry when she told him over text. It was both of their first times, and they trusted each other enough to be that person for each other. But of course things didn't go to plan. Neither of them expected this result, but Harry had been supportive and caring in a way that made Y/n realize he was the one.

"You really don't mind if I go upstairs? I don't want to gross you out, but I can't remember the last time I showered."

Y/n probably pushed to stay downstairs and spend time with him and Simone a little more, but the thought of a hot shower and some alone time was too powerful. Grasping his cheeks in her hands, she kissed him one last time. "Thank you."

"Of course, darling. I'd join you and give you a nice massage, but I'll stay here and watch the bub. Go take care of you, we'll be fine."

:::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::::

She only wanted to lie down for a minute, that was all. Y/n had sat down on the bed to put a pair of fluffy socks on, and the bed was just so soft, she felt herself falling over, her eyes fluttering shut. She never expected to wake up to the sun rising the next morning.

Jolting awake, she looked around, but Harry and Simone weren't in the bedroom. That was when she smelled it. Breakfast. Like proper bacon and eggs and something sweet. Y/n followed the smell all the way to the kitchen, where Harry was in an apron and flipping pancakes. Simone was there too in her high chair, a bib around her neck with a bottle she pumped yesterday sitting on top of the chair's tray. She was smiling, waving her little fists around as Harry danced around the kitchen and sang into his spatula.

"What's going on?"

Turning around, Harry grinned. "You're awake!"

"Yeah. I—I'm sorry for falling asleep so early last night. You should've woken me up—"

"Nonsense. You needed the rest, and I'm still on a different continent's time zone. Simone and I have just been catching up, isn't that right, Simone love?"

Simone obviously couldn't respond, but she seemed happy to have spent the morning with her dad. Walking over to her, Y/n kissed her head repeatedly, then walked over to wrap her arms around her boyfriend.

"I love you," she mumbled, kissing his back.

"I love you too," he said. "Now, if you don't mind feeding our little angel, I will finish breakfast for the two of us."

Y/n nodded and did just that, taking Simone out of the high chair and holding her in her arms. As she did so, she watched Harry with a fondness she'd never thought she would ever feel. She was so happy to have him back, she almost didn't care how he managed to get here.

But she was too curious not to ask.

"So then while I hopped on a train, the boys stole a golf cart to distract everyone," Harry said, wrapping up his story.

"This was like a whole espionage thing," Y/n replied, amused by the antics of Harry and his friends, but not entirely surprised. She'd gotten to know the boys of One Direction quite well, and stealing a golf cart would've been a piece of cake for them. "But why not just go to the airport?"

"Because they would've looked there first," Harry explained. "I figured they wouldn't have anticipated a train ride to another city."

"I'm sorry you had to jump through all these hoops just to see us," she said.

Harry didn't seem the least bit apologetic for his actions, though Y/n knew he would've regretted letting his fans down. He didn’t bring that up, though, so she didn't either. Around a bite of his pancake, he said, "Well worth it, in my opinion. Besides, the boys are always looking for a reason to cause mischief and piss off our managers."

"Well, if it was in the name of causing chaos," Y/n said.

"See, you get it," Harry replied with a grin.

After she was fed, Simone fell asleep. Y/n was going to put her in her crib, but Harry stopped her, taking the infant from his girlfriend's arms. He stared down at her intensely, as if trying to make note of all the things that changed about her while he was gone.

Y/n knew it was hard for him to be away. He loved to sing and to perform all over, but he loved his family too. Now that the holidays were approaching, though, Harry would have some scheduled free time. It wasn't much, but they were making the most of their situation.

"Take a look at this," Harry said suddenly, pulling his phone out of his pocket. "Not exactly professional or anything, but she was calm and we did our best."

It was a picture of Simone fast asleep. She wasn't in her snowman onesie, but Harry had managed to scrounge up a Santa hat from somewhere. She slept with the hat on, her arms around the little blanket she'd had since she was born. It was simple, and when Y/n scrolled to the next one, she could see Harry's blurry finger in the corner.

"She looks absolutely perfect, doesn't she?" Y/n whispered, admiring the photo.

"We make quite the team," Harry replied, agreeing in his own way. Then, after a brief period of silence, he said, "I want more, you know."

Y/n looked at him incredulously. "Are you insane?"

"Not now, of course. We've got our hands quite full with this one," Harry said, taking his phone back. "But...I want more of this someday. With you."

Y/n was often so lost in her own world with Simone that reality often didn't feel like reality. The idea of more kids in the future, or the future in general, just seemed like a weird far away existence. But if she looked past the haze of dirty diapers and shirts covered in spit-up and sleepless nights and tiny baby socks that disappeared into thin air, she could see the same future that Harry did. A bigger family, siblings for Simone to grow up with. And she wanted it too.

"Me too," she finally said, looking up at him. "But not until we're at least twenty-five.

Harry merely grinned. "We'll play it by ear."

She tried to protest, but he kissed her before she could say anything, his fingers holding her by the chin steadily. Neither of them had shared a kiss like that in quite some time.

"Come upstairs with me," he mumbled.

Y/n raised an eyebrow at him. "Didn't we just agree on not having more children for the foreseeable future?"

"We know better now," he said, kissing all over her jaw. "We'll put Simone in her crib, turn the baby monitor on, and just spend some time alone. I've missed you."

"I've missed you too," Y/n said. How could she not?

"Come on then. And later we'll get Simone all bundled up so we can go to the Christmas market. How does that sound?"

"Quite perfect, actually," she sighed. "It all sounds so perfect, H. I'm so happy you're here. Thank you for coming home early."

A couple hours later, Simone was bundled up in a puffer jacket and beanie in her pram. Y/n was pretty covered up too, not wanting to draw too much attention to herself. She and Harry had yet to be spotted together in public, or if they had, his management team was working hard to keep any pictures off the Internet and out of magazines.

"It's weird, I want to buy every single toy for Simone," Harry said as they walked past each stall. "It's impractical, but the urge is there."

"It's called being a dad, H," Y/n replied. "And it's our daughter's first Christmas. But we can't spoil her too much."

"Right," Harry nodded. "That's what Uncles Louis, Liam, Niall, and Zayn are for."

"What do you mean?"

Harry blushed, not meeting Y/n's eye. "I know I can't spoil Simone, but the boys buy things for her all the time. My suitcase is practically filled with gifts from them that they wanted me to take home to her. They love Simone, you know that."

"We should have a party when they all come back. I know they don't all live in London, but it would be nice to have people around the house, you know?"

Y/n shook her head. Not quite out of disbelief. She actually could believe that the boys would want to buy all sorts of things for Simone. The few times Harry’s bandmates had been round to see Y/n and Simone, they were great with her, totally melting at the barest hint of a giggle or smile from the baby. She was just too cute not to fall absolutely in love with.

"We'll find a day, for sure," Harry agreed. He knew Y/n got lonely here in London. She’d given up a lot to move to London, and he tried to make up for that sacrifice as best he could. And the boys absolutely adored Simone, but they loved Y/n too. It would be nice for them to all be together.

They continued walking through the market, admiring the lights and decorations and everything each stall had to offer. They stopped to buy snacks and bought patterned socks as they walked arm and arm. And despite their previously decided restraint, they couldn't help but pick up a few things for Simone—a little knit cap that frilled at the brim, a "Baby's first Christmas" ornament, a couple of onesies, and a pair of booties that were meant to look like cartoon reindeer.

It was the perfect day, one Y/n hadn't envisioned for herself. She knew Harry couldn't be sneaking away from his responsibilities all the time, especially when so many people depended on him. But she needed this, they needed this. Sometimes family had to come first.

"Let's go home," she said, her eyes never leaving Simone's. "I think we need a proper family picture now."

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles oneshot #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles imagine #young parent!harry styles #harry styles writing #harry styles fluff

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btsgotjams27 · 1 year

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this is us ~ jjk | drabble

jungkook sees the photos you took with hyunie.

✨ title: this is us | (sequel to all grown up) ✨ pairing: jungkook x f!reader | ✨ rating: m/18+ | minors dni ✨ genre/au: drama, romance, angst, fluff, smut | est!relationship, age gap, bff's younger brother ✨ a/n: if you haven’t read the prequel to this, please do so here! :) you can read them here on AO3 & Wattpad ✨ a/n 2 : thank you to the one and only @cherrysoulth for helping me write the smut scene ;) ily

[ SERIES MASTERLIST ] | next ✨ 7 ~ party of three

drabble ~ the reveal | wc: 4.0k warnings: jungkook is hopelessly in love with reader and lets her know, language, kissing, touching, groping, unprotected sex, blindfolding kink, dirty talk, light light cockwarming, reader tries to be dom but ultimately fails, sub jk for like a split second, they play a game during sex, masturbation (f), 69, oral (m,f), jungkook begs (a little), light choking, jungkook is a brat

A week passed when Hyunie texted, letting you know she left your "present" for Jungkook outside your door. There were two packages outside your door when you arrived at your apartment. One packaged in black wrapping paper with a white bow, you assumed which was for Jungkook, and when you picked up the other package, it was addressed to you.

The note read:

- Because you need a photo album for yourself too ;)

xo, Hyunie Bunnie

You shook your head at the note, setting Jungkook's package on the counter. Curious about how the photos turned out, you'd only seen what Hyunie showed you at the hotel but to see your pictures in the flesh...

Well...shit.

Were there times when you scrolled through Pinterest wanting to look like the women in the photos? Well, here you were, looking like one of them. Hyunie had some magic touch with the camera. You were in awe of how she captured a side of you that you didn't know existed. Hyunie hyping you up the entire time also helped boost your confidence level.

"Babe, you're sexy and hot. Just think about the look on Jungkook's face when he sees these. Let that be your motivation," Hyunie encouraged.

Flipping through the rest of the album, her continual pep talk throughout the photoshoot was evident; you could see the shift in your attitude and body language. Honestly, you didn't know who that person was in the photos before you.

The time was nearly eight o'clock when Jungkook came home from work and the gym, announcing his arrival with the usual, "Honey, I'm home." You found it amusing every time either one of you said that. It was getting to that point in your relationship - the comfortable stage.

"I got you a little something," you immediately blurted out once you saw him turn the corner from the hallway. And he looked fucking sexy, sweat still glistening on his neck, pieces of his curls glued to his temple. Why would he leave the gym without showering? Also, his stupid linen pants weren't helping because they left nothing to one's imagination - even soft, Jungkook's dick was...ample. You wondered how many women gawked at him as he left - but regardless, it was you he was coming home to, not them.

"Ouu," Jungkook wiggled his eyebrows in delight, his body doing a little dance, swaying from left to right. "What's the special occasion? I didn't miss an anniversary or something, did I?" He asked, setting his backpack down next to the couch, then he walked over, leaning down to press a kiss against your lips. He pulled away, gazing lovingly into your eyes, whispering, "Hi."

You chuckled, "No, you didn't forget anything. You'll just have to open it and find out yourself. Here, sit," gesturing for him to do so on the dining chair as you stood up, walking towards the hallway closet, pulling out the package Hyunie so neatly wrapped.

Jungkook knitted his eyebrows together, narrowing his eyes, intrigued by the box you pulled out. You handed the box to him, and he quietly tapped on it. It was beautifully wrapped until he tore it open like the boy he was. You stared blankly, watching your boyfriend trash the wrapping paper that Hyunie spent so much time on. Well...note to self, don't wrap anything nice for him.

When he took off the top of the lid, he let out a small huh. "A photo album?" He guessed they were pictures of you dating, and he didn't think they would be of anything else. Why would he?

"I'll, um, give you some alone time." You pressed a kiss on his cheek, seemingly now warming up at your comment. You couldn't wait for him to scream his head off.

His ears perked up, and he choked when you mentioned the last part. "Alone time?" What could be in this box to warrant him needing alone time? You snickered, leaving him to his demise.

You entered your bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed.

Wait for it...

A beat passed.

All you could hear was, "No. No. NO! NO! NO!" Jungkook shook his head while opening the photo album to reveal your photos. There's no way you took sexy boudoir photos for him. NO FUCKING WAY! Right? This was a fever dream. He must be dreaming.

"What the actual fuck? Shit--baby!" Jungkook cried out. You could hear the screech of the dining chair as he ran into the bedroom with the album in his hands. The stunned look on his face made you giggle. "Who took these?"

"Hyunie." Your eyes wandered to his, gauging his reaction to his gift. "So...whaddya think?" You asked with a confident hair flip.

He sprinted towards you, throwing the album on the bed. He cupped your face, frantically pressing kisses all over, causing shrieks and giggles from you. When Jungkook finally stepped back, he peered down at you, staring intensely into your eyes, "You're gonna be the death of me, you know that?"

Your hands gripped his tiny waist, "The feeling's mutual." His hands still restrained your face, then he leaned down and pressed another kiss on your lips.

Jungkook inhaled and exhaled deeply, "I'm the luckiest man in the world, and I'm wondering what I did to deserve this." He sat down next to you, grabbed the album, and revealed the photos that were taken of you. You were proud of how these came out, considering how awkward you felt taking them.

"Good god, baby...." He grunted before continuing to twist and turn the album to explore every detail of your body in every photo - details that he grew to learn about and love. Then he turned to your favorite photo that Hyunie took.

You asked Hyunie if she could also bring a film camera because you loved that grainy film look. The photo was simple: you in the oversized white dress shirt, black lacey lingerie underneath, standing in front of a window, looking outside, hands laced into your tousled hair. The photo revealed a silhouette of your curves, relatively tame but alluring. You wanted the exact feeling from it, and Hyunie captured it beautifully.

"That one's my favorite," you explained with a coy smile.

"Every one of these is my favorite. Honestly, I can't pick," he snapped his head in your direction. "You're so beautiful, baby. I'm so lucky to have you. Thank you for these."

Jungkook has been a fever dream for the past seven months. He's done so much for you; this gift was nothing compared to the love he's shown you. You often wished for a better way to show your love to him, but this could be a small way to start. "You said you wanted nudes, so..."

He let out a hearty laugh, "This is so much better than nudes. Don't get me wrong, nudes are nice, but these are a fucking masterpiece." Jungkook continued flipping through the album, gasping, groaning, and clutching his heart as he discovered your new photos in naughty poses.

You took it to yourself to move closer to him, letting your hand linger on top of his, the pad of your thumb caressing his veiny hand. "I take it you like your present?"

"Like it? Fucking love it! I'm gonna jerk off to these all the time," he explained with excitement like a young teenager who found his first dirty magazine.

You giggled, figuring he would say something like that. You peered down at his pants; it was evident how much he loved them. "Can I help you with that?"

Jungkook was still smiling like an idiot, zoned into the photos and unaware of the erection between his legs. "Huh?" He glanced over at you, wondering what you were referring to. His eyes followed your hands, stroking his hardened length. "Oh--" he cleared his throat, "yes...please, be my guest."

How polite, you thought. You did your job. You caught Jungkook off guard with your little...present. When you reached over, the photo album was still in his hands, beginning to stroke him over his pants. Small moans and whimpers escaped his mouth as you continued.

He set aside the photo album before coming back into contact with you. Jungkook wanted to rip off your camisole and shorts and ravage your pussy with his mouth and cock until you begged him to stop. But he wanted to savor every inch of you right now. He was over the moon with your present and couldn't wait to see more of it, but it would have to wait.

He needed you right now.

Most of the time, he made you crumble under his touch, but not today. Today, it was his turn to crumble under yours.

You stood up, standing between his legs while he was at the edge of the bed. You gazed into those doe eyes you loved so much, twirling the hair growing longer at the nape of his neck. Jungkook brushed up and down your thighs with his fingers, coming dangerously close to your already wet core, making you shiver underneath his touch.

Shaking your head, you tugged on his hair, making him whimper and smile, telling him not yet. "You first," clarifying as you straddled his thunderous thighs, feeling his erection throb against you.

You leaned down to kiss him, and he met you halfway. Lips entwined and entangled, never wanting to let go. Compared to the devilish tongue dancing with yours, his heavenly plush pink lips made you grow desperate for more of him. Kisses grew more intense and heated, hands exploring familiar dips and valleys. You abruptly pulled away, making Jungkook whine. "I have another present for you."

"You're killing me," he groaned.

You reached across your bed, sprawled out, and Jungkook couldn't resist smacking your ass, causing you to yelp. You pulled the drawer in your nightstand, revealing a familiar silk black tie.

Crawling back towards Jungkook, you straddled yourself on top of his thighs. "Since I'm normally the one blindfolded, it's only fair that it's your turn now," you teased, waving it in front of him.

Jungkook nodded. "Mm, I like where this is going. I'm up for anything, baby," he smirked, fingers grazing up and down your thighs.

"Anything?" Your voice laced with curiosity and a twinkle in your eye.

"Any-thing," he emphasized, darting his tongue to lick his lips. The photos turned him on, but this - you, in dominant form, drove him crazy. He was ready for whatever you had up your sleeve.

"Shirt. Off," you commanded. He didn't hesitate, crossing his hands over his body, tugging at his sweat-soaked shirt. Your eyes admired his toned chest and rock-hard abs, your hand reaching to pinch the pierced nipple, causing him to mewl.

"Pants," you ordered, pulling yourself off of him, so he could do as you asked. He didn't take his eyes off you as he kicked off his pants, his sinful expression matching yours. The thought of a submissive Jungkook made you wet.

With the silk tie in hand, you brought it up to fasten it around his eyes. His hands began to wander for you, making you slap them to stop.

"My turn," you smirked.

"You're gonna strip, and I can't see it? That's not fair," Jungkook groaned incessantly.

"You said you were up for anything, so torture falls under that category."

He groaned again, now realizing his mistake. It was torture not being able to see you.

Quickly, you removed your camisole and shorts, leaving only your panties on. You sat in your desk chair in front of Jungkook, waving your hands before him to ensure he couldn't see a thing.

Jungkook sat impatiently, waiting for your next move; then he heard a soft whimper familiar to him, the first whimper of when he would touch you after a while. He cleared his throat, "Wha--what are you doing, baby?"

"What do you think I'm doing?" You yelped after letting your fingers slide between your folds. You wished they were Jungkook's fingers, but you had to remember it was his turn to crumble. "I gotta get myself ready for you."

Jungkook shifted in his seat, squirming in place at that the fact you were touching yourself, and he couldn't watch it. He imagined your head lolled back, tits out, fingers rubbing your clit, pumping in and out of your pussy. "Fuck baby--I shouldn't have agreed to a blindfold."

You giggled at his words—torture for him and torture for you. Letting your fingers slide down further to your entrance, you imagined it was Jungkook's fingers. Your whimpers and moans drove Jungkook insane as if the photos weren't enough. Now, this. Your legs now spread, fingers inserted into your pussy, making lewd noises as it pumped in and out.

As much as you were enjoying yourself, it was much more fun seeing Jungkook suffer, his strained cock trapped in his boxers. You could see the inner struggle of him wanting to stroke himself after hearing the noises coming from your mouth and pussy. He bit his bottom lip hard enough to make it bleed.

You didn't want to make yourself come, not yet. Jungkook would do that for you.

After an abrupt silence, Jungkook peered left and right, trying to figure out what was happening. His hands again reached out to feel for you, but you had already gotten on the bed, kneeling behind him.

"Hi," you growled into his ear, wrapping your arms around him, letting your hands wander down his shoulders and taut chest. "Fuck baby, you're so sexy." Tiny beads of sweat still stuck to his body from the gym; it drove you crazy.

"Wha--what are you doing now?"

"Gonna help you out a little," you said, chuckling lowly into his ear. "While you help me too, missed that tongue of yours."

You wrapped your arms around him, pulling him back as best you could, laying flat on the bed. Jungkook had a goofy smile, loving every moment of this and helping him remove his boxers and kicking them off onto the ground.

He was so cute, waiting so patiently for your next move, and before he knew it, a tiny kitten lick lapped at his reddened tip, which was already leaking with pre-cum.

You placed yourself facing away from him, ass and pussy near his face, your mouth inches from his thick, girthy cock. "Wanna help me out, baby?" you asked sweetly, positioning your pussy near his mouth.

Jungkook hummed, "What do you need?"

"Stick out your tongue for me?"

He did as you asked, his tongue barely grazing your clit. "Fuck--" you moaned.

Jungkook finally realized your position, which made him even harder. "Can I touch you?"

"Please," you mewled. Everything in you wanted to give him and have him fuck you into oblivion, but no, you had to be strong and keep going.

His large hands traveled to grab your fleshy ass, pulling you towards him, thoroughly sucking on your clit, your tongue tracing around the plump tip. So slow, it made him dig his digits into you and stop for a moment, his composure on a thread.

"Keep going, baby," you ordered, and he obeyed, tongue circling mercilessly as you returned to your previous spot.

Filling your mouth with him suddenly and pulling off, you felt him shiver and repeatedly suck his head. Only his head. Until his moans turned into groans against your slick, although he hadn't stopped in his task, body so tense you could have sworn you heard his muscles pop.

You let him in thoroughly and sucked him, bobbing your head, making him stop in his tracks to groan.

"Jungkook, don't stop," you said, pulling off again, and this time he groaned in frustration, pulling you impossibly close to his face, tongue dragging as if you were his last meal: making you moan right before you took him in your mouth again.

You pressed your tongue flat against his shaft to help yourself with sucking but mainly to feel his response to your ministrations, moaning over his velvety skin, causing him to shiver again.

You didn't stop even when you felt it; the swell, marking his end, was near, his moans turning lewd against your pussy. You knew you would already be a mewling mess, cumming against his mouth if it weren't for your focus.

Pulling off as he reached his peak, your hands on his hips as you rode his tongue while a groan of frustration escaped him. "Tongue out, baby." He groaned to your command, the edging stinging him but obeyed nonetheless.

You rode him messy; the power beholds in what you did to him, affecting your arousal. His tongue was so perfect against your nub that the orgasm hit you wild and unexpectedly. You stopped after a few leaps into it, feeling it reap through you like thunder, making you let out a high-pitched moan that made Jungkook lose his cool.

Panting heavily, trying to catch your breath, you pulled yourself away from Jungkook's frame.

Jungkook lifted his head, blindfold barely covering his eyes. "Baby, where'd you go? Don't tell me you're going to leave me hanging."

The thought had crossed your mind, but there was no way you'd go without riding him tonight. "Wanna play another game with you," you said with a devilish grin, wrapping your hand around his length again.

"Ah--" Jungkook whimpered as his head fell back at your touch.

"You ready for me?"

"Been ready. Please, just fucking sit on me already," he begged, and you did as he asked. He groaned as your pussy swallowed up his length.

Fuck.

You glanced at the connection between your bodies; you were never one to take a moment to appreciate how his cock would disappear into your body. It was a beautiful sight.

"What are you doing?" Jungkook asked, referring that you had been sitting with his dick in you but weren't bouncing on it.

Leaning down, tits pressed against his chest, you whispered in his ear, "I call this game 'Red Light, Green Light.'"

He inhaled sharply, "Fuuuuck--you're driving me insane. Don't do this, baby, please." Jungkook was insanely close to ripping off his blindfold and flipping you onto your back to fuck you like a madman. You already worked him up, so close to blowing his load before you pulled away.

"You know how to play, right? But this is a little different; when I say 'green,' you can fuck me as fast or slow as you want. When I say 'red,' you have to stop."

Simple enough, Jungkook thought to himself. He wanted to fuck you like bunny rabbits in heat.

"If you don't stop when I say 'red,' I won't let you cum. Okay?" You stated, pushing yourself off his chest. He visibly gulped at your proposal, making you suppress a giggle. At this rate, he'd have blue balls if he didn't adhere to your rules.

You connected your lips with him again, feeling the need to taste yourself on him, breathing in your scent that lingered, his tongue fervently urging to find yours. You withdrew from his mouth, kissing his jawline, before whispering, "Green."

This was Jungkook's chance to fuck you like a madman, but since he had some control, he thought two could play this game. While grabbing your ass, he thrust into you at an insanely slow, languid pace, only getting in a few thrusts before you said 'red.'

"Mm...my Jungkookie knows how to play too, hmm?" You suspected he'd try to toy with your rules.

Unexpectedly, his eyes found yours as you took off his blindfold. He bit into his lower lip, satisfied with the fact that you already looked fucked out.

Leaning in, slightly pushing yourself down on his length, you uttered, "Green," hoping he'd pound into you as hard as he could.

His hands were now digging into your fleshy ass, and you could see his eyes darken, overcome with lust, as he started harshly thrusting from below, pushing himself further and further into you. Making you whimper endlessly like the slut you were for his dick. Stupid of you to even think you could play this Dom role. You were too weak for Jungkook. You melted at the slightest touch from him.

The skin on skin, slapping against each other, obscene sounds echoing before you said, "Red," you cried.

The two of you panting heavily, you found rest in the crook of his neck. One of his hands traveled up, grappling the nape of your neck, his fingers tangled in your hair. Jungkook pressed a kiss into your shoulder, his other hand still on your ass, leaving his mark as he tightened his grip.

Nibbling on his ear, you whispered, "Green." Once you gave him the go-ahead, he smirked, flipping you on your back, stretching your legs, and his cock inside you again in one quick thrust. His hips thrusting erratically, breath hitched in your throat, watching your sweaty boyfriend chasing his climax.

Grinning, you watched him getting lost in the moment. Jungkook's gaze lingered on your mouth. You were tempted to say 'red,' your lips even forming the word, but he sharply stopped, leaned down, hand on your navel, traveling between your breasts, making its way to your throat.

So this is what happens when you torture your boyfriend.

His tattooed hand lingered around the column of your throat--guessing he didn't want you to utter that word, which would cause him to stop. He slipped his thumb into your mouth, swirling your tongue like it was his cock. Jungkook abruptly withdrew his hand, pulling himself out of you, causing you to whine at the loss.

You were not cut out for this.

Reaching out to bring him back to you, he swatted your hand away. "Green," you said, wanting him to keep going. He didn't say anything. Instead, he cocked his eyebrow, smirking while you were caught between his thunderous thighs and legs, stroking his length. "Green," you repeated.

Jungkook was relentless; he had had enough of your games - he loved it but hated it even more. "Can't hear you, baby. What do you want?"

"I want your fat cock inside my dripping cunt, right--" you sucked in a sharp breath when he pushed in fervently, "Fuck," you mewled, shaking as his hips struck your ass. Soft yelps continued to escape your lips at each thrust.

Jungkook gripped tightly onto your thighs, continuing his frantic pace, his heart beating faster and faster, matching his stride as he fucks into you. "Shit, baby--gonna cum so hard," he moaned, lolling his head back.

You hummed, walls clenching around him, ready to milk him for all he has.

His abs tightened, veins pulsing, heart beating out of his chest, reaching his peak. Suddenly, he pulled out of you, groaning while dropping into the crook of your neck. His cum covered your sheets instead of you. He slumped on top of you, but not before you could feel his cheek against yours, turning into a smile. He began chuckling.

"I hate you," you said, scowling at him. You couldn't believe he came on your sheets instead of inside you.

"You fucking love me."

"You're such a little--"

He rolled off to your side with one hand on his stomach. "Oh--that was so fun to watch you so disappointed."

Jungkook couldn't see it, but you glared at the ceiling, sulking a little bit because it didn't go the way you wanted. He turned in your direction, "What? Are you upset?"

Your arms crossed, head turned away.

"Baby--" Jungkook whined, pulling you towards him, forgetting that his cum was seeping through your sheets.

"Kook--it's sticky!" He lifted you on top of him again. "You're all sticky and gross!"

He laughed at your complaint. "I love you," he said, wrapping his arms around you and reaching for a kiss.

Reluctantly, you kissed him and muttered those three words before pushing yourself off him, and he followed. The two of you continued bickering while walking to take a shower. Stupid of you to think you could be in control of Jeon Jungkook.

✨ next - 7 ~ party of three

#jungkook fic #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook noona #jungkook drama #jungkook angst #jungkook x y/n #jungkook x reader #jungkook x you #bts fanfic #bts fic #bts x you #bts x y/n #bts x reader #fic: this is us

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wandaromanova · 3 years

Text

Little Sister

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x Fem!Reader

Warnings: one cuss word, minor BW spoilers

A/N: hello! i’d like to note that this takes place sometime before the events in the Black Widow movie! if you haven’t seen the movie yet, please skip over this story and come back later if you’d like! happy reading <3

anon requested: hiii i have a fluff request after seeing bw haha: could you do nat x fem reader where they're laying in bed snuggling, and r asks her about her family and nat tells her and r notices how cute she looks when she's talking about yelena and it's so soft and ahhhh

Summary: Natasha tells her girlfriend about a piece of her past that she never talks about; her sister.

Word Count: 2K

| masterlist | request rules/guidelines | wips |

please do not repost or try and take ownership of my work. reblogs, likes, and comments are always welcome. <3

Natasha Romanoff has lived a lot of lives. She has been through more than most.

Nat had been taken as an infant by an organization that trained little girls to become lethal assassins.

She was psychologically conditioned to become a killer, having taken more lives than she could count.

Eventually, Natasha had managed to break free from the cage she was forced into and was recruited as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent; it was a new start for her, an opportunity to compensate for the red in her ledger.

So, Natasha took her job seriously, saving as many people as she could, even more so when she became an Avenger; one of earth’s mightiest heroes.

Natasha found something in the team that she never really had before; a family. She found a home within the dysfunctional team she had been recruited into.

Not only did Natasha find a family within the Avengers; she also found the love of her life.

Natasha hadn’t even considered the possibility of ever finding love.

For starters, the Red Room had instilled the concept that love was nothing but a distraction; a liability.

She had been taught that love was for children and it was nothing but a weakness that needed to be avoided at all costs.

She was quite literally programmed to be emotionally closed off and to always have her guard up. Letting someone into her heart was a risk she didn’t want to take.

When Natasha gained her independence from the organization, she had to do a lot of self-discovering. She had never been able to be her own person, but now that she could, she quickly learned that she didn’t even know herself.

However, it was Natasha’s insecurities that truly turned her off from the entire idea of love.

How could any ever possibly love her? She thought she was a monster for the things she’d done. She has done the unspeakable since ever she was a child.

What if she wasn’t enough? What if her baggage was too much for someone else to carry? She didn’t want to be a burden. She didn’t want to have to protect someone, just to fail them like she had failed so many others.

Natasha was positive that no one would ever be crazy enough to love her.

Little did she know, she would end up finding someone crazy enough to do so; you.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

When the Avengers were formed, you were extremely nervous about it.

All of the files that you’ve read on your new teammates were unbelievable; they were all phenomenal in their own rights. A super-soldier, a god, a genius, a trained-spy.

You were a spy yourself, so you knew exactly who Natasha Romanoff was. She was a S.H.I.E.L.D legend, the best of the best.

You were more nervous about meeting her than anyone else. What if she judged you? What if she didn’t think you were good enough to be an agent, let alone an Avenger?

Not only was she your superior, but she was also your crush. Yeah, you’d never even met the woman before, but you were crushing on her hard.

She was drop-dead gorgeous, but also quite literally a deadly force. Natasha could easily take down anyone she wanted to, and honestly, you wanted to be one of those lucky people.

When you met Natasha for the first time, you were a flustered mess. The redhead found it amusing, how your cheeks turned a bright shade of red and you stumbled over your words as you praised her work.

Natasha never told you this, but she was immediately smitten the moment she laid eyes on you.

There was a kindness and positivity that just radiated off of you and it was extremely contagious.

You were this beaming ball of light that lit up the darkest parts of her soul.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You got to know Natasha extremely well while being on the team. From observing her closely and paying very close attention to her actions, you had managed to pick up on little things.

She didn’t put any creamer or sugar in her sugar; opting for strong, black coffee.

She was kind of a clean freak. If she saw something out of place, she would be quick to put it in the correct place or position.

When she was happy, she would let a small smirk cross her features. When she was annoyed, she would raise her eyebrows.

When she was stressed out or angry, three little creases would appear on her forehead as her eyebrows would knit together tightly; a subtle frown on her face.

Of course, when you began dating the redhead, you didn’t really have to survey her so closely anymore because she’d tell you things herself.

No matter the circumstances, Natasha would always come to you and rant about it. Whether it was about how shitty a mission went or how she beat Clint’s ass during training; you were the only person she wanted to tell.

Natasha had opened up to you, something she never did with anyone. She told you all about her past.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

You had some knowledge of Natasha’s previous life, considering it was in her files, but you didn’t realize just how horrible her childhood truly was.

The Red Room, the heavy weight of guilt that rests on her shoulders, the nightmares that forced her to relive the murders she committed, her time as a S.H.I.E.L.D agent, and becoming an Avenger.

She’d go on and on about her road to redemption or ‘clearing the red out of her ledger.’

Natasha was terrified when she told you about her demons. She figured you were going to leave her the second she finished talking, waiting for you to get up and walk out the door, but you didn’t.

So, you completely caught her off guard when you pulled her into a bone-crushing hug, placing a soft kiss onto her temple, the redhead relaxing in your embrace.

“You’re the strongest person I know. It’s not your fault, you were forced and conditioned to do the things you did.”

Natasha focused on the sound of your voice and took in your words as you softly caressed her red locks with one hand.

“Baby, the amount of respect I have for you is immeasurable. I applaud you for turning your life around for the better. I’m so fucking proud of you.”

Your words had brought tears to Natasha’s eyes, which was a rare occurrence.

She was expecting you to run for the hills, but you chose to pull her closer instead.

In that moment, Natasha knew she never had to be afraid of love again.

You were the most understanding and accepting person she’d ever met.

You would never judge her for her worst mistakes; Natasha had found the one for her and she wasn’t ever going to let go.

•❅──────────────── ‎⧗ ────────────────❅•

Now, a few months later and a year into your relationship with the Russian, you were both lying in bed and cuddling.

You were both watching a movie when a particular scene came on. It was of a family gathering around a Christmas tree, children excitedly opening up presents with gleeful smiles across their faces.

“You know, my sister and I got to take pictures with a Christmas tree once.” Natasha spoke, her eyes fixated on the screen.

You looked up at her in shock. You didn’t know that Natasha had a sister. She told you that she didn’t even so much as know her parent’s names.

Natasha looked down and noticed your confused expression. She reached for the remote on the bedside table and paused the movie before returning her gaze to you.

“There was a mission I was assigned to in Ohio, as a kid. I was assigned to play the daughter of two other Russian spies, Alexei and Melina. It wasn’t just me though, there was a little girl who was assigned as my younger sister. Her name is Yelena.”

Natasha had a reminiscent, happy smile on her face as she recalled the brief period time of her childhood. She looked absolutely adorable as she rambled on about this part of her childhood.

“We took photoshoots of various holidays to make our family look more realistic. My favorite one was Christmas. Even though I knew they were just empty boxes, I wanted to rip open every single one.”

Natasha let out a small giggle at the thought. Even though she had a smile on her face, you could feel and hear the underlying tone of sadness in her voice.

“Yelena and I would spend hours outside, just playing together. Swinging on the swing-sets, looking up at the stars, bending over backward, and getting into a ridiculous competition to see who could hold the position the longest… I always let her win.”

You could see the fondness in her eyes, the longing. It warmed your heart that there was a small glimmer of light in Natasha’s past. There was at least a sliver of hope that she clung tightly onto throughout her time in the Red Room.

“After 3 years, the mission ended. Yelena and I were sent back to the Red Room and were torn apart from one another.

Natasha’s breathing grew heavier as she recalled the unfaithful day. The sight of her sister being taken, and not being able to do anything to help her; still haunted the redhead to this day.

“There were so many men with guns and armor, they literally ripped us away from each other. I was eleven and she was only six.”

Your heart sunk at your girlfriend’s words as her smile dropped. She tore her eyes away from yours as she blinked rapidly, fighting back tears, but failed. You reached your hand up to her cheek and wiped away the fallen droplets.

“I haven’t seen her since. I’d like to think that she found a way out and got a life of her own; a nice, happy life.”

Natasha placed her hand on top of yours before looking down at you once more. You sent her a soft smile when she let out a shaky breath.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I knew that the it was all fake, but it was still the best part of my childhood. It was real to me.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You nodded your head at her words. She took a brief pause, trying to regain her composure, before continuing.

“Even if we have no true relation to one another, and even if I haven’t seen her in years, she is still my little sister.”

Natasha finished off with a big gasp as sobs wracked her body. You sat up from her embrace and pulled her into your arms, just like you had many times before.

You rubbed her back soothingly as she cried into your shoulder, her tears hitting the exposed skin.

“She sounds amazing, baby. I’m really happy that you had some sort of happiness back then and I hope one day you get to see her again.”

You whispered and Natasha pulled away from the hug, still in your arms as her emerald eyes surrounded by a sea of red, a result of her crying.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“I doubt she’d even want to see me. I didn’t even try to find her. I’m a horrible sister! I-“

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

You immediately pressed your lips against hers, effectively getting the Russian to calm down. You broke the kiss when her breathing slowed.

“Honey, of course, she’d want to see you again. Like you said, you guys are sisters. I’m positive that it was just as real to her as it was to you.”

You reassured your girlfriend, her eyes a pool of worry and guilt. You rubbed your thumb against her waist, the material of your her hoodie beneath your touch.

“From what you’ve told me about the Red Room, it would’ve been impossible to find her. Stop beating yourself up over it. You’re the best, and I’m totally not biased or anything.”

Natasha let out a small chuckle at that and you smiled at her, wiping away the last of her tears. She collapsed into your hold further, shoving her face into the crook of your neck.

“Thank you. I don’t know what I’d do without you. I love you so much.”

Natasha’s words came out muffled as her face pressed further into your skin.

“You never need to thank me for anything. I’ll always be here for you, Natty.”

You hugged her as tight as you possibly could, her cold skin meeting your warmth. Natasha let out a small sigh at the feeling.

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

“Wherever you go, I go.”

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ

───────── ･｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ──────────

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landothemuppet · 3 years

Note

Peter or tom taking care of sick overworked stressed and just generally burned out reader please

sick days and an idiot || (t.h)

Word count: 704

pairing: actor!tom holland x publicist!readr

N/A: okay it's short, but it's the concept of a blurb, am i right? I hope you will like it. I allowed myself to choose the reader's work and include a funny little situation. - lot of love! xx

taglist: @angeliquekalampoka @harryhollandsgirlfriend @cedricdiggorysimpp @hogwartsmarvelmommy - if you want to be notified of all my future writings you can add yourself in my taglist : here

Fall was your favorite season, but it was also the time when you fell ill the fastest. The reason was simple: you were still stubbornly wearing summer clothes when the weather got cooler. And it only took a few days from the start of October for you to catch a cold. You had a sore throat, you had chills and sweats. No doubt you had a little fever, but the reckless one you were hadn't wanted to check. To top it off, the work was not easy. You had had several meetings during the day for several different clients. You have also been negotiating partnership contracts with several brands. But at the end of the afternoon, you felt exhausted, sore, livid. Your boyfriend came home from a late round of golf and you shivered as the wind blew through the front door.

"Darling, I'm home"

You didn't answer, unsure of the sound of your too hoarse voice. Your fragile health has betrayed you since you have coughed a few times. Tom just had to follow your coughing fit. You were wrapped in a fluffy plaid, cozy socks, your nose was red and your eyes were shining.

"Oh, my poor baby" he pained you.

Your boyfriend approached you to kiss your temple, not without protesting that you were sick. He couldn't get sick too, he had a press tour coming up soon.

"Stay away from me, you can’t be sick"

Tom shook his head before heading to the kitchen. He took out your favorite mug and his from the cupboard, setting them on the counter while he filled the electric kettle and took out the tea. You watched him do it with a feeling of fullness. This man was far too perfect. The brunette then leaned into the bottom cabinet to grab the heating pad you usually use during your painful period. He placed it in the microwave with a cup of water, to heat the object safely.

"How was your day, love?" Tom asked.

"Horrible. One of the brands that sponsors my client has a photoshoot scheduled without notifying us first."

"It sucks ..."

"And you'll never guess but ... I also got a call for a social media affair. One of my clients ... I wouldn't say who" you insisted your gaze on Tom, eyes piercing. "…posted on his Instagram story" you paused, giving him time to realize your words. “a picture of him in the designer room of his next BIG movie, where you can clearly see in the background ... 3 different iconic costumes of his character. "

Tom's eyes widened before swallowing hard and judging by tapping his phone. He got confused in excuse.

"We're having a press conference tomorrow. I don't have the strength to write your speech, but I'll do my best to get you out of your mess."

Tom gave you puppy eyes while still apologizing for it. He hastened to take the heating patch out of the microwave. He placed it against your stomach, kissing you on the cheek, then rushed to the counter to steep the tea in your cups and bring them to the coffee table. He settled into the couch, making you wince at having to move but you couldn't blame him since for the next few seconds you were snuggled against him in a heartwarming embrace. He stroked your head and kissed the top of your head.

"You're lucky that I love you, idiot"

"I love you too, darling."

You closed your eyes to appreciate the affection Tom was giving you. You were pretty sure he would be sick tomorrow, you were pretty sure you were going to have to spend the night writing an editorial line to save your silly boyfriend's ass. But for now, you were in the soft warmth of his arms and he was enough for you.

"How about ordering your favorite food and watching a fall movie before you have to go back to work?"

"Sounds good to me."

Tom pecked at your lips and you melted under his kisses. No, dating Tom Holland was no easy task but you were way too much in love with this man ... and he was an absolutely perfect boyfriend.

#tom holland #tom holland fic #tom holland x reader #tom holland blurb

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stereostevie · 3 years

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When you think of grunge, do you picture a bunch of long-haired White guys in plaid shirts, singing about teenage angst and self-loathing? Time to expand that viewpoint. Standing above them all should be Tina Bell, a tiny Black woman with an outsized stage presence, and her band, Bam Bam. It’s only recently that the 1980s phenom has begun to be recognized as a godmother of grunge.

This modern genre’s sound was, in many ways, molded by a Black woman. The reason she is mostly unknown has everything to do with racism and misogyny. Looking back at the beginnings of grunge, with the preconception that “everybody involved” was White and/or male, means ignoring the Black woman who was standing at the front of the line.

Bam Bam was formed as a punk band in 1983 in Seattle. Bell, a petite brown-skinned spitfire with more hairstyle changes than David Bowie, sang lead vocals and wrote most of the lyrics. Her then-husband Tommy Martin was on guitars (the band’s name is an acronym of their last names: Bell And Martin), Scotty “Buttocks” Ledgerwood played bass, and Matt Cameron was on drums. Cameron would leave the band in its first year and go on to fame as the drummer for Soundgarden and Pearl Jam. But he paid homage to his beginnings by wearing a Tina Bell T-shirt in a photoshoot for Pearl Jam’s 2017 Anthology: the Complete Scores book.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word] And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch.”

Bam Bam’s sound straddled the line between punk and something so new that it didn’t have a name yet. Their music combined a driving, thrumming bass line; downtuned, sludgy guitars; thrashy, pulsing drums; melodic vocals that range from sultry to haunting to screamy; and lyrics about the existential tension of trying to exist in a world not designed for you. The band’s 1984 music video for their single “Ground Zero” is low-budget, but Bell’s charisma seeps through.

“She was fucking badass. That’s all there is to it. She was amazing as a performer. I’ve only seen one White male lead singer command the stage in a similar way that Tina Bell did, and that was Bon Scott of AC/DC,” says Om Johari, who attended Bam Bam shows as a Black teenager in the ’80s and who would go on to lead all-female AC/DC cover band Hell’s Belles.

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Christina King, a Seattle scenester who was close friends with Bell from 1984 until the early ’90s, says the singer’s talent was obvious. But she believes a lot of people dismissed Bell as a gimmick.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam.

“I remember one person saying to me that they didn’t get ‘the whole Black girl singer thing,’ it just didn’t fit whatever they were into,” says King. “They were too ahead of their time.”

Bam Bam came into being in an era when hundreds of underground clubs, taverns, bars, and social halls — anywhere that you could cram in a band — were within the Seattle city limits. Bam Bam played almost all of them, and often to big crowds: The Colourbox, Crocodile Lounge, Gorilla Gardens, Squid Row — just to name a few.

Among those attending their shows: Future members of history-making grunge bands like Nirvana (Kurt Cobain did a stint as a Bam Bam roadie), Soundgarden, Alice in Chains, and Pearl Jam. Not to mention all the other people, mostly White and male, who would become prime targets for music labels trying to market this new sound.

Bell “already possessed everything they were trying to attain. She had a truer rock and roll spirit than almost any of those guys in that town. Everything they tried to do, she naturally was,” says Ledgerwood, still a loyal bandmate.

One Seattle club, The Metropolis, became “like our fucking living room,” says Ledgerwood. It was also the site of an overtly racist verbal assault against Tina Bell.

“For some reason a couple of skinheads are up front, calling her [the N-word],” Ledgerwood recalls. “And all of the sudden, Bell grabs a microphone stand and she starts swirling it around her head like a lasso… She swung that fuckin’ thing around her head and about the fourth time, she smashed that son of a bitch… She nailed that fucker right in the temple of his head. Split like a melon. And the other guy next to him caught it too, they go down, and we’re like, ‘What the fuck?’”

Ledgerwood says that after going backstage for a while to regroup, Bell came back “and put out the most blistering set of our fucking career.”

This could easily be an anecdote about Bell’s power, her resilience, and willingness to fight back against oppressive forces. But it’s also a story about the cost of being a Black woman who does something that some people don’t expect or approve of.

“She’s being pulled out of her zone because somebody is acknowledging how the rest of the world can see her,” says Johari, empathizing with the star rocker. “And even to react to it by picking up a microphone and smashing someone in the face, that means that that incident cost her not only that moment it takes to get back into the song, but the whole [effects of her] action will last for weeks.

“She’ll replay that over and over and over and over again. And then the people she sees that were there when it happened, they’re gonna come up to her and they’re gonna forget everything that she’s saying, all the stuff that she had did, and they’re only going to focus on, ‘I was at that show where you knocked a dude in the head for calling you an N-word,’” Johari says. “It has nothing to do with her artistry. But it reminds her of the way in which she has to be prepared, just in case it happens again.”

King remembers Bell also felt that some of the other men in the band’s changing lineup failed to treat her as an equal partner: “She’s getting that from her own band members — what do you think audience people are like?”

A European tour in the late ’80s gained Bam Bam international fans, but ended after Bell and Martin split up, and Bell was caught in an immigration enforcement dragnet in the Netherlands.

When they returned to the Pacific Northwest, Bam Bam continued playing shows until 1990, when Bell abruptly quit as they were packing up to head to the studio in Portland, Ore.

“She had just had enough,” Ledgerwood says. “For almost eight years she had almost literally eviscerated herself for the audience.”

But that work never resulted in the national recognition they deserved.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it.”

“Sometimes you need to be a little bit of an asshole to protect yourself. And Bell wasn’t much of an asshole,” Ledgerwood adds. “She was a pure-hearted person and had a really hard time believing that people couldn’t accept her over something as stupid as race.”

Bell didn’t just quit the band, she withdrew from music completely, says her son, Oscar-winning documentary filmmaker TJ Martin. Not out of resentment, he adds, but perhaps to escape the painful reminders that the music she helped pioneer was now earning other bands multimillion-dollar record contracts.

“Grunge, whatever that means, is being identified as from your community, your colleagues, your sound that you were a participant in help shaping, and you’re not even mentioned in any of it,” Martin says. “I can’t even fathom what that would feel like for it to be sort of spit back in your face with such frequency.”

Ledgerwood believes Bell died of a broken heart. But when Bell died alone in her Las Vegas apartment in 2012, the official cause of death listed was cirrhosis of the liver. She had struggled with alcohol and depression. Her son says the coroner estimated her time of death as a couple weeks before her body was discovered. She was 55 years old.

The things that could have told Tina Bell’s story in her own voice are lost. Martin arrived in Las Vegas to find that the contents of his mother’s apartment — except for a DVD player, a poster, and a chair — had been thrown away. All of her writings — lyrics, poems, diaries — along with Bam Bam music, videos, and other memorabilia — went in the trash without her family even being notified.

If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.

“I couldn’t help draw a parallel between her not being respected and seen in the first chapter of her life, as the front person of a punk band, and then even in death being disrespected and not being seen for the merits of the life she lived,” says Martin.

Bell’s death is also an indictment of the way she was written out of her own story. The way grunge’s almighty gatekeepers chose to look through her instead of at her. Grunge became the domain of alienated young White men in flannel shirts, and Tina Bell didn’t fit the narrative they were trying to sell.

“Black herstory can suffer immense amounts of erasure if somebody is not brave enough to ensure that women get counted,” Johari says.

To many of those who were part of the scene at the time, the amnesia seems intentional. Ledgerwood brings up the seminal history of Seattle’s grunge era, Everybody Loves Our Town. In it, the author refers to Bam Bam as a three-piece instrumental band mainly notable because Matt Cameron was the drummer. Tina Bell isn’t even mentioned.

“How in the hell would he have a recollection of how great Bam Bam and its drummer was, and not this unbelievably beautiful woman, this firecracker, this explosive rock and roll goddess?” Ledgerwood asks. “Even if he thought she sucked, to not remember the only Black woman on the whole fuckin’ scene is — well, it’s like that old joke about the ’60s: If you think you were in Seattle in the ’80s, in the grunge scene, and you don’t remember Tina Bell and Bam Bam, you probably weren’t really fucking there.”

You can listen to more of Bam Bam’s music on this Spotify playlist. A vinyl album with the band’s songs is coming out this year on Bric-a-Brac Records.

#Alice in Chains #Bam Bam #black history #black women #black women in rock #grunge #Kurt Cobain #music #Nirvana #Pearl Jam #rock #Seattle #Soundgarden #Tina Bell #women in rock #women's history #80s

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regencyslxt · 3 years

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Another Year Older

1385 words.

Imagine being the first person to celebrate Hulk's birthday with him.

(PLATONIC!bruce banner/hulk x reader.)

“No, Y/N. You’ve asked me so many times and the answer is the same each time.”

“But why?! Please Bruce I promise I won’t annoy him, I’m sure he’d love it, just look…”

You had been sitting in the lab on the Stark tower for around 40 minutes now, having made your way straight there to see Bruce when you had arrived with Peter. You tilted your phone to let Bruce see the screen and the video currently playing. The ghost photoshoot trend was all over your timeline and you honestly couldn’t get the thought of the hulk posing with a massive sheet over him out of your head. You thought I’d be cool. Bruce on the other hand was firmly against it.

“Y/N I don’t know how he’d react. I can’t put you in that situation, I’m sorry.”

You slouched over placing your head on your arms which were crossed on the table.

“We could always do it here so he’d be comfortable, we don’t have to go outside to do it. I just thought I’d be fun to do before the c…” you stopped talking as Bruce stared at you through questioning eyes.

“Before the what?”

“before the cake,” you whispered into the sleeve of your shirt.

“Y/N I can’t quite hear you, before what?”

“Before the cake Bruce, I thought it would be fun to do before we ate his cake.”

“What cake?” he asks completely confused.

“Birthday cake…” you smiled.

“It’s not my birthday until December. I thought you knew my birthday Y/L/N.”

“I do. That’s why it’s not a cake for you, but for him…” you said timidly.

Bruce looked at you strangely, the skin on his neck seemed to turn green. He clutched the edge of the desk and questioned you.

“Why would- why would you get him a birthday cake?”

“Have you ever bought him a birthday cake? Has anybody on the team?”

“Well no, but…”

“Exactly, the poor thing has helped save this planet from freaking aliens and not once has his birthday been celebrated. So, tomorrow there is a chocolate cake with extra sprinkles on top being delivered just for him. I’m hoping he likes chocolate, but then again who doesn’t.”

Bruce can’t do anything but stand there, mouth open, eyes blinking, shocked at the fact someone other than him cared about the big guy. He always got along with you; your inquisitive nature was similar to Peter’s, but you seemed to gravitate more to him instead of Tony. Maybe it was because of his shy demeanour, or maybe it was because you had this weird need to be liked by everyone. He didn’t mind though; it was nice having someone actually want to learn about what he does. He also knew that Hulk liked you, he could always feel him trying to push his way out. Truth be told he just didn’t want you to get hurt, he would never forgive himself. So, as he stood there frozen, he thought about what could happen if he let the big guy out, which seemed to be more than likely to happen considering he had made it clear he was very excited to eat his own birthday cake earlier.

“Bruce? Are you alright?” You asked, he had been still for around a minute staring at the blank space between you. He snapped out of the trance he was in.

“Um, yeah, yeah. I’m fine.”

“Good, well I’m gonna go get food because I am starving, I don’t know how Peter can eat the school’s lunches. Everything tastes like cardboard,” you explain as you move to leave.

“Y/N?” you turn.

“Come back tomorrow okay? We can try if you want…” he said. Your heart jumped and you pulled Bruce into the tightest hug you could muster.

“Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.”

He just laughs and pats your back a few times. You let him go and rush off to tell Peter the good news, ecstatic about tomorrow.

…

As you made your way to the lab, the next day, you had a visible spring in your step. The excitement you felt yesterday hadn’t worn off if anything it grew. You carried a box in your hands, being careful to not drop it. You knocked on the glass door, silently asking Bruce to open it. He made his way over and let you in. You could tell he was nervous as he stared at the box.

“We don’t have to do this if you aren’t comfortable, I know I went on a bit yesterday but it’s okay if you don’t want to.” You comfort him.

“No it’s alright, he’s been hard to control this morning. I think he’s excited, “he chuckles.

“I am too.”

You look around and notice that all the equipment had been oved around, and the worktops had been moved to create more space. You sat the cake down and opened it up. You popped the LED candles in (you didn’t want to scare him with real fire or anything) and motioned for Bruce to come and see. He grins at you and places a gentle kiss on your temple.

“You’re a good kid, Y/N. He’s gonna love it.”

…

“Greenie stop stressing you’re fine, see.”

You pulled the sheet over your head and placed the glasses over the top. You grabbed his hand, more like his finger and pulled him down to sit next to you as you stood. You had been setting up the camera when you had realised he was too big to fit in the frame standing up. That didn’t matter though, you’d make it work.

“Flower, can’t see,” he grunted.

He had taken to calling you flower because of the pin you were wearing on your collar, a sunflower. You quickly reached into your bag and pulled out a pair of small nail scissors and hoped that they would be able to cut the fabric well enough. You removed the party glasses from his face (they were the only ones big enough) and carefully pinched the fabric blocking his vision.

“I need you to stay still okay?” He let out a huff and you started cutting two holes to make sure he could see through. When you were done you popped his glasses back on, and placed yourself in between his crossed legs, he gently grabbed you and moved you so your head was tucked under his chin. You let out a quiet laugh and felt the vibrations of his chuckle on your back.

“The camera is gonna take a whole bunch of photos at once okay? So just do any pose you want,” you told him calmly.

Moments later the camera flashed continuously and you both modelled for the camera. As the flashing ceased, you rushed to get to the camera impatient to see the results. There was picture upon picture of you both, your favourite had to be the one where you were both holding up the peace sign. It was simple but funny too. You felt him peer over your shoulder as you found your way back in front of him.

“Look cool,” he laughs.

“We do look pretty cool, don’t we?”

You took the sheet from his and your head and popped them into the bag you brought them in, grabbing the paper plates you had brought.

“Do you want some cake greenie?” You awed at him as his eyes seemingly lit up at your words.

He hummed in response and waited patiently for you to come back with the cake slices.

“Here you go,” you hand him the plate with the bigger piece.

“Happy Birthday to you!” you cheer.

As you tucked into your cake, he couldn’t help but smile. Nobody had ever been so nice to him apart from Bruce and sometimes Nat. He knew he was big and sometimes he got angry, but he didn’t mean to scare anybody. When he had heard you talking to Bruce about celebrating his birthday with him, he felt his heart swell, and the happiness he felt on his own rather than through Banner was a tad overwhelming. But as he sat with you he understood why Bruce liked you so much, you were a good friend and he was glad you wanted to be his too.

#imagine #x reader #regencyslxt #marvel #marvel imagine #marvel imagines #marvel x reader #marvel fanfiction #bruce banner #bruce banner x reader #bruce banner imagine #hulk x reader #hulk x you

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watchmegetobsessed · 3 years

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Serendipity - Part IV. (Harry Styles)

a/n: can’t believe only one part left of this story! i personally love their journey and a lot more is to come, we have an emotional last part ahead of us, so brace yourself! as always, feedback is very much appreciated!!

pairing: Harry x OC (Annalise Lloyd)

word count: 9.4k

SERIES MASTERPOST ⚫️ my masterlist ⚫️ come and talk to me about Serendipity!

Serendipity (n.) Finding something good without looking for it.

Sometimes Harry finds himself way too caught up with everything around him. Work tends to pile up, meetings after meetings, urging deadlines and the demand to stay relevant in the industry. These past weeks he has tried his best to make London the epitome of his life and so far he has been successful in his attempt, dodging two trips away from his home, though he had to make a short visit to New York still.

Now, even though he is in London, he feels like he is far from home. He hasn’t been able to see Lis in three days, their schedules just didn’t line up well and he would never ask her to mess up her usual routine with Benji, but he has been missing her dearly. He has been missing them both. Harry found himself growing a liking to being around not just Lis, but her little boy as well. He loves playing around with him, joining the mother-son duo on their little outings on Sundays, or just simply stay in with them, watching whatever movie has caught Benji’s eyes recently. He has been spending all his free time with them, but this week has been too hectic and now Harry feels like it’s coming down crashing on him at once.

It’s past eight pm now and he just finished with a tiring meeting. He has had many creative differences with the team he is supposed to work together with for a photoshoot and it took all his energy and patience out of him to stay calm and respectful when they just wouldn’t let go of the things he clearly didn’t want to include. It didn’t matter what he or his manager was saying, the team seemed to be keen on putting their ideas through no matter what.

“We’ll come to terms, alright?” Jeff pats his shoulder as they walk out of the building. Harry nods, though he doesn’t feel comfortable in the project like he is supposed to.

“Yeah, sure.”

“Rest some. I pushed a little further your interview tomorrow. You have to be there at eleven.”

“Thanks,” he nods at the man and they say their goodbyes before parting ways and heading to their own cars.

Once he is seated behind the wheel, he takes a moment to himself, breathing deep to get his head sorted out, but he just knows this ache in his chest will grow if he doesn’t do something to ease it. Pulling his phone out of his pocket he closes his eyes as he starts a call to Lis.

“Hey! I was just thinking about you.” Her sweet voice immediately eases the tension in his muscles and he feels himself deflate at her words.

“Yeah?”

“Yes, Benji showed me his painting he made today and it has this nice guitar on it, I’m sure you’d like it,” she chuckles softly and he hears her shuffling around, she must be cleaning up the kitchen, at least that’s what she usually does around this time once they are finished with dinner.

“I bet it looks awesome,” he mumbles.

“Everything alright? You sound a little… distant,” she says, worry lacing through her words.

“I’m just… tired. Very tired. Just wanted to hear your voice. I miss you.”

“I miss you too,” she coos. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“It’s just work stuff. It’s been a hard week,” he admits, but doesn’t go into detail, not wanting to load out on her. She has enough on her plate without having to listen to his ranting.

“Are you at home?”

“No, I just got done at a meeting. It was shitty, some people just suck,” he sighs in frustration.

“Want to come over?” she asks softly, the question surprises him. It’s a weekday and they didn’t agree on meeting beforehand. “Go home, get the stuff you need and spend the night here, if you want.”

“You sure about it? I don’t want to bother and what about Benji?” Lis chuckles on the other end of the call.

“Benji would jump up the wall if he hears you are coming over. He has been missing you too, Harry. In fact, I think if you come over you won’t be able to get rid of him for a while.”

Harry chuckles lowly, the thought of having to play with Benji whatever imaginary game he just made up warms his chest. He doesn’t mind it, not even a bit.

“I can be there in like forty.”

“That’s perfect. We are starting Finding Nemo just now. Hurry so you can see the end. Spoiler, they find Nemo,” she laughs making him smile as well.

“Alright, see you in a bit.”

Annalise ends the call, smiling to herself. She still hasn’t gotten used to the feeling Harry brings to her. All the affection and appreciation he has been showing made her swoon and she has no doubt now that she made the right choice when she let him enter her life. She could tell he wasn’t in the best of moods and though he didn’t admit it, he couldn’t fool her entirely. She wanted to be there for him, comfort him just like he does every time she is feeling overwhelmed with life. Harry hasn’t failed to brighten her days whenever it was starting to feel a little too much all together and now she has the chance to do the same for him.

“Popcorn! Popcorn!” Benji chants as he runs into the kitchen, already in his pajamas, holding one of his dinosaurs in his hand.

“Alright, I’m making it now,” she chuckles grabbing a pack and tossing it into the microwave. “Harry will come over in a bit, is that alright?” she asks him and watches his eyes brighten up immediately.

“When is he arriving? Can I show him my painting?” he enthuses right away, making Lis chuckle.

“Of course, already told him about it. He’ll be over soon. Let’s start the movie, he’ll join when he arrives.”

The two of them settle on the couch once the popcorn is ready, she puts on the movie and tries her best to focus on the screen, but she keeps glancing out the window, checking if he has arrived. When she sees his headlights pull up in front of her house, she leaves the comfort of the couch and goes to meet him outside. Luckily, Benji is too invested in the movie to care about the absence of his mother just yet.

When she sees him emerge from the car, she can tell he isn’t his usual joyful self. His shoulders are hunched forward and she can tell he hasn’t had a good night’s sleep in a while from the circles under his eyes. Looking up his gaze meets hers and he breaks a soft smile at the sight of her in her comfy home clothes.

“Hey,” she greets him warmly and walking up she kisses him sweetly, running her fingers through his hair. He hums against her lips, hands finding her waist lazily.

“Hi. You sure I’m not bothering?” he asks as he grabs his bag for the night from the back of the car.

“Absolutely,” she smiles and taking his hand she pulls him inside from the crispy evening air.

Benji’s head snaps up hearing the front door shut and he immediately leaps out of his seat, launching at the man that just arrived.

“Harry! Come see my painting!” he begs immediately, smacking against him, wrapping his short arms around his waist. Harry chuckles lightly, rubbing his back gently.

“Alright, bud. Show me!”

The three of them move over to the kitchen so Harry can check out the painting on the fridge. Harry listens to everything he has to say, giving him his full attention and Annalise can’t ignore how her heart flutters in her chest at the sight of them. Harry squats down so he is on the level of the little boy who is standing between his legs, talking enthusiastically about the kind of paint his teacher let him use at school. He doesn’t seem to be just acting to be interested, it’s all genuine and that alone almost makes her cry.

Once the show and tell is done, Benji drags him into the living room so they can continue the movie.

“Slow down, Benji. Let me bring my stuff up to the bedroom,” Harry chuckles, but the boy has a strong grip on his hand.

“I’ll do it, just go watch the movie,” Lis offers smiling. Harry presses a kiss to her temple, mumbling a thank you as she takes the bag from him before he is taken by her son.

Bringing it into her bedroom she sets it beside the bed and gets him a clean towel, placing it to the edge of the bed in case he needs it. Once the lights are all turned off she heads back down to the living room, only to find a scene that immediately makes her swoon.

The movie is playing again and has both guys’ eyes fixed on the screen. Harry is sitting comfortable on the couch, slid down a little, Benji cuddled to his side, his little fingers playing with the buttons of his shirt. His head is laid on Harry’s chest while his long, tattooed arm is wrapped around the little boy’s frame. Just as she walked down the stairs Benji mumbled a question about sharks and Harry softly answered, earning a nod from the boy in his arm.

Lis finds herself grabbing her phone from the kitchen island, quietly sneaking up on them, taking a picture of the two from the side. She is more than sure it’s going to end up as her lockscreen sooner or later.

Harry lifts his head and turns towards her when she walks in, making her presence known this time. A soft smile tugs on his pink lips and Annalise can’t push down her wide smile even if she tried. Sitting beside the boys, she leans closer and presses a kiss to Harry’s lips before placing one on top of Benji’s head. This is her silent thank you to Harry for being such an amazing man and he can feel the seriousness behind this small gesture as well.

When Lis is all settled, Benji moves around until his head is still on Harry’s chest but his legs are across his mother’s lap. Harry and Lis exchange one last loving look over the head of the little boy before they both turn their attention back at the movie playing on the screen.

Benji is half asleep by the end of the movie. Harry offers to carry him up to bed, which Lis appreciates a lot. She hasn’t been able to carry him around that much since he has been growing like crazy. Once the boy is all settled in his bed the two of them head into her bedroom. First he takes a quick shower and then it’s her turn. When she returns to the room Harry is lying in bed already, reading something on his phone but he quickly puts it aside when she appears. She quickly gets under the covers and moves close to Harry, resting her head on his shoulder as he circles his arm around her frame.

“I’m sorry you had a shitty day,” she mumbles after a while, his fingers gently caressing her upper arm.

“It definitely got better at the end.” After a short silence, she is the one to speak up again.

“I like having you around like this.”

“Like what?”

Lifting her head she rests her chin on his chest so she can look him in the eyes.

“Domestically,” she answers and his heart starts thudding against his chest so wildly even she notices it.

“I love it too,” he tells her truthfully.

As he stares down at her in the dim lighting of the bedside lamp on her nightstand, he can feel three short words weighing down on him, burning to be said out loud, but he is not sure if it’s the right moment to let them slip. However, as the moments pass by and she is still looking up at him, he simply can’t make himself remain silent.

“And… I love you.”

She seems stunned upon hearing his words, lips parted as her eyes keep fixated on his green ones. Pushing herself up into a sitting position she lets the faintest smile tug on her lips, tasting the words that just rolled down his tongue. Cupping his face she leans down and kisses him blissfully, her cheeks blushing from the joy that spread in her body at his confession.

“I love you too,” she whispers against his lips and he breathes out shakily, a hand flying to the back of her head to pull her into another kiss.

“See? It wasn’t tha’ hard, right?” Harry smiles down at Benji who nods his head, admiring his math homework Harry just helped him finish.

“Thanks. I think I like math now,” the boy nods to himself, making both Harry and Lis chuckle.

“Your opinion about math seems to be changing quite often, Benji,” Lis teases him, but he just shrugs his shoulders. “Go pack your bag for tomorrow.”

Benji climbs off the stool, grabs his notebook and pencils before jolting upstairs. Annalise walks around the kitchen island until Harry can reach out and pull her closer to him, placing a chaste kiss to her lips.

“I wanted to ask you something,” she shyly blinks up at him.

“Go ahead,” he nods. Her hands wander to his stomach, curling the fabric of his shirt around her fingers before letting it go. Harry has been spending at least two nights at Annalise’s, he has his own drawer in her dresser, a toothbrush in the bathroom and even a mug only he uses when he drinks his morning coffee. Following the night he spent here after his shitty day, it slowly became a usual, they both found themselves craving to be with each other and Benji didn’t seem to mind having him over either. Now it’s stretching towards the end of May and they have fallen into a routine of some sort, that seems to be working well for all three of them.

“When school is going to be over I’ll be taking Benji to my parents’ and he’ll stay there for the first two weeks of summer vacation. I’m staying for a weekend as well before I leave him there and I was wondering if… you’d like to come, maybe.”

“You want me to meet your parents?” Harry asks, stunned at the sudden invitation, but it surely warms his heart, knowing that she is ready to take this next step.

“I mean, if you don’t think it’s too soon or something. We’ve been dating for only what, like two months?”

“Something like that,” he nods licking his lips.

“Don’t feel pressured, it’s just that I told my mum about you and she really wants to meet you. But I understand if you want to push it back a little.”

“You told your mum about me?”

“Of course,” she smiles shyly. “She is dying to meet this new, charming boyfriend of mine.” Her smile turns into a smirk that’s surely contagious. Harry mirrors her expression before pecking her lips softly.

“I would love to meet your parents, Lis.”

Her eyes light up and he knows he would do anything to see her happy. Meeting her parents feels a tad bit scary but he is also excited, knowing that she trusts him and counts on him on such level is comforting.

“Great. Then get ready to be questioned by my mum, she can be a pester sometimes, but I have no doubt you’ll pass,” she chuckles before kissing him fully.

“So Benji will be away for two weeks?” he asks, seemingly deep in his thoughts.

“Yeah.” Harry licks his lips, eyebrows furrowed and Lis can tell the gears are turning wildly in his head. “What’s on your mind?”

“It’s just an idea. You can say no if you don’t feel like you’re comfortable with it, but… I was thinking that you could stay at mine for those two weeks. Would be nice to come home to each other, start our days together and all. But it’s just an idea, you can absolutely tell me if yo—“

“I would love that,” she cuts him off smiling, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks. “I think it would be great.”

“Yeah?”

“Mhm,” she nods smirking, her thoughts already wandering off to how convenient it’s going to be to be around each other all the time when they are not working. No interruptions, no third parties, just the two of them in the comfort of Harry’s home. She would be crazy to say no to that.

“Great,” he smiles, eyes shining bright. “I’ll make you a copy of my keys then.”

Suzan and George Lloyd live in the outer skirt of Manchester, a place that almost feels like home for Harry as well. The cozy looking town house appears to be old, but it’s clear that it is well kept, thanks to all the hours the couple puts into it.

“Grams! Gramps!” Benji cheers in excitement once Harry parks down on the driveway. The red front door opens and a short, curvy woman appears, her chestnut hair in a short ponytail, a green apron covering her front.

“She is big on kisses,” Lis warns Harry before they all get out of the car.

Benji runs up to his grandmother happily, giving her a tight hug as the woman coos at him lovingly. Lis grabs Benji’s bag while Harry carries hers and his, walking up to the front door where Suzan is already waiting for them with open arms.

“Lisie! Come here!” she cheers, her laugh chiming sweetly as she wraps her arms around her daughter, kissing her cheek several times.

“Hi mum. How are you?”

“Fantastic now that I have my favorite grandson with me!” she cheekily answers winking at Benji, though they all know he is the only grandson she has.

“Mum, this is Harry, my boyfriend. Harry, this is my mother,” Lis introduces them to each other. Harry drops the bags to the ground with a wide grin on his face that brings out his dimples well. Suzan immediately falls in love with them.

“It’s a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Lloyd,” he politely greets her, though she waves in dismissal.

“Oh, call me Suzan. Come here, Dear!”

They share a warm hug and just as Lis warned him, he feels Suzan kissing both his cheeks welcomingly.

“You surely are more handsome than in the photos!” she exclaims, making Harry chuckle.

“Apologies, she is a big Google user,” Lis huffs, but Suzan ignores the comment, tugging her family inside.

George appears from the kitchen, chewing on something as Benji jumps into his arms.

“Gramps, we will go fishing, right?” he asks in excitement.

“Of course, Benji. Next weekend?”

“Yay!”

“Lisie!” George cheers and envelopes his daughter in a hug after he has put Benji down. “You look stunning.”

“Thank you, Dad,” she smiled. “This is Harry. Harry, this is my dad.”

“Nice to meet your, Sir,” Harry smiles at him as they shake hands and luckily, George returns his smile with a gentle pat on his shoulder.

“Call me George. Nice to meet you too.”

Soon enough Lis goes upstairs to help Benji get settled in the room that used to be hers but now mostly used by the boy when he is staying over, leaving Harry alone with Suzan and George. Suzan has brought some tea and biscuits into the living room and she joins the two men as George is already asking him about what he really does for a living.

“Lisie said you are some kind of celebrity?” George explains, looking a little puzzled at the information though.

“Kind of,” Harry nods. “I’m a singer and song writer.”

“George, I showed you his song the other day!” Suzan chimes in, sitting in the armchair.

“Which one? You show me so many things a day, I can’t remember all of them!”

“The one with the video about the fish!”

“Fish?” George grimaces, trying to find his memory of what his wife showed him, but then it pops in and his expression smoothes out. “Oh! That one! That’s a nice song!”

“Of course it is!” Suzan exclaims. Harry finds the conversation rather endearing. It’s always so relieving to meet people who are not so caught up in the world of fame, having trouble to even remember his full name. Though Suzan has done her homework digging online, it’s still clear that she hasn’t heard much about him beforehand and Harry prefers it this way, not having to worry about and secondhand judgment from the media.

Suzan turns to Harry and her eyes give it away that she is about to have a few serious words with him.

“Harry, I’m so glad you could make it this weekend. Lis talked so fondly about you on the phone.”

“Wouldn’t have missed it for anything.”

“It seems like Benji likes you a lot too.”

“He is an amazing little boy.” Suzan lets out a long breath and he knows this is where the real talk begins.

“I can tell your intentions are the best with her, but please be extra careful with them. She has had enough trouble with Austin, she doesn’t need another heartbreak, yeah?”

“I completely understand your concerns and I can assure you, I’m always doing everything in their favor.”

“That I know, Harry,” she smiles. “But sometimes things just get harder and people tend to forget you have to fight for what you thought was already fully yours.”

Harry holds his gaze on hers as he savors the meaning behind her rather wise words. He knows it was no thread, but a reminder that they won’t be always this happy.

“Will try my best,” he nods, meaning every single word.

It’s a silent agreement between the two of them that Harry will hope to keep forever. Benji comes running down the stairs, Lis following behind him as they join the three of them in the living room. Benji sits on Suzan’s lap, rambling about his last fieldtrip he had with his class as Lis sits beside Harry on the sofa. She places a hand to his knee, squeezing it softly and his palm covers her hand instantly.

“You alright?” she quietly asks him.

“Yeah,” he smiles and leaning closer he pecks her lips shortly before they both turn towards Benji and Suzan.

Monday morning, when Annalise’s alarm goes off on her phone, she can’t tell where she really is for a moment, it is until she hears Harry groan behind her, an arm lazily thrown over her stomach. They arrived back from Manchester the previous night and after a quick trip to Annalise’s house, they both moved over to Harry’s place where they are set to spend the next two weeks, something they both have been looking forward to.

Harry places a soft kiss to her shoulder before rolling to his back, blinking the sleep away from his tired eyes. Though they both knew they would have to wake up early in the morning, it didn’t keep them away from using their alone time for their satisfaction.

“Mm, I know you love your job, but right now I wish you would just quit it,” Harry mumbles, eyes still closed as he is trying to gain strength to get up. Lis chuckles softly, cuddling to his side.

“You know… I forgot I don’t need to get Benji ready now so we are about half an hour early,” she inquires, hoping Harry would get the real meaning behind her words, however he is too tired to do much thinking about what she truly meant.

“Great, 30 more minutes of sleep,” he exhales.

“Or…” Lis pushes herself up and swings a leg over Harry, getting on top of him and the position surely makes his eyes pop open. “We could use our time wisely,” she suggests with a coy smile.

“Rise and shine, baby,” he sings, his hands grabbing onto her hips as he turns them over, getting on top of her while she laughs at how quickly she could get the sleep out of his eyes.

After they have successfully used their extra time wisely, Harry convinces her to let him drive her to work.

“Then you’ll have to pick me up too.”

“Well of course. We could go grocery shopping together on our way home. Want to cook you something nice,” he smirks at her, finishing up his morning coffee.

“Sounds good,” she nods, accepting his offer at last.

The two of them get ready to leave and though it’s still a bit strange to spend their morning together at such a peaceful and private manner, they can’t deny how much they love being alone. Harry loved having her around, see her brushing her hair while he was getting dressed, move around each other in the kitchen while making breakfast. His home has never felt better than at that very morning with Annalise there with him.

“I’ll be here at four,” he smiles at her once they arrive to Golden Sunshine. Leaning over the shifting gear she pulls him in for a quick goodbye kiss.

“Don’t be late,” she smirks playfully before getting out of the car and heading inside. She turns back before entering the building, seeing that Harry is still watching her. She smiles and waves at him before walking inside.

Eloise and Bart are right there as always, the old lady’s eyes immediately lighting up when she sees Lis arrive.

“Darling! You look stunning!” she gasps looking at her.

“Thank you. You look nice as well. Is that a new cardigan?”

“Well, yes! My granddaughter bought it for me!”

“Looks amazing.”

“Thank you. Now tell me, what is it that got you all bright this morning? I don’t tend to see people this happy on Monday mornings.”

Lis stops in her way, her eyes wandering over to the front door. Harry is gone, but the thought of him still lingers in her mind, making her smile with every bit of it.

“It’s love, Eloise,” she answers shortly before making her way into the changing room.

Before starting her shift she drops by her boss’ office to sign her attendance sheet for last month. As she puts her hair in a low ponytail she walks into the room that’s used as a waiting area in front of Mark, her boss’ office. Immediately, she is greeted by Grace, the assistant there.

“Good morning, Annalise!” she nods in her way smiling. “Good thing you dropped by, Mark wants to talk to you.”

“Am I in trouble?” she asks right away, but Grace shakes her head.

“Don’t think so.”

Just as it’s said, Mark rushes through the door with a pile of papers in his hands, his colorful tie a little crooked, but he looks just as nice as every day.

“Oh! Lis, so happy you are here so I don’t have to hunt you down,” he jokes. “Come into my office, will you?”

Lis follows the man inside and sits in one of the plush armchairs in front of his desk. He stacks the papers on the side of the desk before taking his seat behind it.

“Benji gone already?” he asks nicely. Mark knows Benji very well, the boy loves him and Lis is thankful Mark is so understanding about her role as a mother first and foremost.

“Yes, dropped him off this weekend.”

“Great,” he nods, a hint of worry in his eyes.

“Mark, what is it you wanted to talk about? You are starting to worry me.”

“I wouldn’t want that, but I need to tell you about something. You know the new assistant I hired for the weekends, right?”

“Yes, I met Violet the other week,” she nods, cautiously waiting for him to finally make sense.

“She is still learning her ways around and I swear she didn’t mean to bring trouble upon you,” he explains, clearly worried about the situation on hand that Lis is dying to finally unfold.

“Mark, just tell me what it is about!” she begs.

“We got a call this weekend from a man. He was asking around about you. Wanted to know if you are working here. Violet didn’t think anything of it and told him that you in fact work here. She said he started asking when your shifts are and how often you are in, that’s when she found it suspicious and told him she can’t provide any more information. She didn’t find out his intentions, but she indeed got his name.”

Though it hasn’t been said out, Lis has a strong guess who it must have been and the eerie gut feeling inside her stomach is more painful than ever.

“Who was it?” she asks, voice barely more than just a whisper.

“He said his name was Austin.”

“Thank you so much, Mr. Styles,” the woman behind the cash register smiles as she hands Harry his receipt along with the two hard paper bags, the well-known name GUCCI printed over them neatly.

“Thank you,” he smiles in his way, sliding his wallet into his back pocket before grabbing the bags and heading out of the store he just spent an hour trying on outfits. He is always highly welcomed in any of their stores and judging from the amount of money he usually leaves after a spree, it won’t be any different anytime soon.

“Gucci should change its name to Styles, man,” Mitch jokes as the two men approach the exit.

“That would be cool, right?” Harry smirks.

There are three photographers already waiting for them near his car and the moment they set their feet outside the questions start, flashes are ticking every second, all of them trying to get a good shot of him. He doesn’t blame them, he hasn’t served anything mentionable lately, he was barely even seen out in public since he has started going out with Lis and he was kind of getting used to the quiet and peace, however he hasn’t forgotten what his life is really like.

Ignoring all questions thrown in his way, the two men simply get into the car and drive away, luckily, they don’t get followed. It only happened a handful of times to Harry, but he definitely didn’t like it.

“Can you drop me off at Sarah’s?” Mitch asks after checking his phone.

“Sure. Everything alright?”

“Yeah, she just asked if I could help her put together her new coffee table.”

“Didn’t she buy one just last month?”

“She did, but… it wasn’t too durable,” Mitch mumbles under his breath, making Harry gasp at his comment.

“Oh shit!” he laughs. “I’m not sure if I wanted to know this detail, but anyway, congrats man,” he teases him, Mitch only smirking shyly.

“Don’t pretend like you haven’t ruined anything ever while having sex.”

“Never said that,” he smirks smugly.

“I’m not gonna ask what you and Lis broke, I have too much respect for her,” Mitch laughs and Harry pays him a playful smirk. To be honest, they haven’t broken anything, but his headboard was creaking quite vigorously this morning for sure. He knows it’s just a matter of time and chances that they destroy something at either his or her place.

“How is living together working out so far?” Mitch asks, changing the topic.

“It’s been not even a whole day,” Harry chuckles. “But I love it so far. For the first time in so long, I finally feel like everything is just heading right.”

“That’s amazing. I’m happy for you,” Mitch smiles genuinely at him. “You really should bring her around sometime, we are all dying to meet her. Sarah wouldn’t shut up about it,” he adds chuckling.

“I know, she’s been hinting it to me as well,” Harry smirks. “Will try to make it happen. Maybe this weekend? It’s a little easier without having to worry about Benji. Not that he is a burden, of course.”

After dropping Mitch off Harry heads to Golden Sunshine, since it’s nearing five. This week, Lis agreed to work a usual shift so she’ll have the whole weekend off. He arrives a little earlier so he starts to write a quick list what they would need to pick up at Tesco on their way home. Just a few minutes after five, the door opens and Lis walks out, a wary look on her beautiful face as she roams around stepping outside, her eyes landing on the car and the man inside waiting for her.

“Hey,” Harry beams, kissing her quickly when she gets in the car.

“Hi,” she greets him, a little out of breath, looking a tad bit on the edge.

“Everything alright?” he asks, starting the car and leaving.

“Yeah, I just… had a tiring day,” she breathes out, flashing a weak smile at him.

Walking around Tesco they quite forget about themselves, holding hands and simply acting like any other couples as they fill up the cart with everything they need at home. They both notice that people recognize him and she can’t ignore the stares they are getting, but it’s not like they can do anything about it. Earlier, they’ve had a talk about this side of Harry’s career, if they would want to keep out of public or simply not care about it at all. They uniformly agreed to choose the latter. Harry wouldn’t talk about her and they would just simply pretend not to care about the curious eyes and talks. Sooner or later, it will all die down and it’s not like they could hide forever.

But after all, this is the first time they are caught, undeniably together with their hands intertwined and though they try to stay low, people notice them. Pictures of the two of them slowly but surely make their way around the internet and the first headlines appear about Harry’s new romance.

Saturday has finally brought the first time Lis is meeting Harry’s band. The lot is heading out for a simple dinner, but his friends can’t wait to finally meet the woman who has Harry on his knees since day one.

It’s been a tiring, but wholesome week for the pair, spending so much time together, they’ve been quite enjoying the comfort of being alone.

However, the wariness Harry has noticed on Lis earlier the week didn’t seem to fade. He asked her several times if everything was fine, but she assured it was all good and he told himself she must just be feeling a little lost without Benji around. He knows, because he has found himself feeling the same. He has gotten so used to him being around it was starting to feel weird not hearing his curious questions every time they were watching a movie.

Following a lazy day at home they get ready for dinner and head out to meet the band. Lis has been paying extra attention to her looks since their pictures got out from their grocery shopping trip. When Harry told her she didn’t have to worry about looking so spotless all the time she simply answered: “Can’t have them talk about you dating an uggo, right?”

To which Harry replied: “That can never be the case when it comes to you.”

It surely warmed her heart to know he finds her pretty regardless of what she is wearing, but she still feels the need to look presentable, especially when Harry is always dressed so nicely.

Tonight, she is wearing wide-legged checkered pants and a sleeveless turtleneck tucked in it, paired with silver hoop earrings. Emerging from the bedroom Harry takes her in smiling.

“You look so serious yet fun at the same time,” he hums, eyes still roaming her body.

“Is that good?” she chuckles lightly.

“Definitely,” he nods. “Ready to leave?”

“Yeah.”

On the way to the restaurant, Harry notices how she’s been checking her phone more frequently than usually and it’s been like this for a few days now. When he asked she said she was just texting with her mum, getting updates about Benji and he didn’t have any reason not to believe her.

“There she is!” Sarah cheers as soon as the pair walks into the place. Jumping from her seat she rushes over and pulls Lis into a tight hug, making her chuckle. “I’m so happy we can finally meet you! I’m Sarah,” she grins widely, giving her two kisses on the cheeks.

“Hi, Nice to meet you. I’m Annalise, but I guess you already know that,” she jokes with an airy laugh.

“There was no other way with this dude always talking about you,” Sarah chuckles giving a look to Harry, who just shrugs his shoulders, not even trying to mask his affection towards Lis. “Come on, only Charlotte is missing, but she is always running late.”

Arriving to their table Lis is greeted by the rest of the band and everyone warmly introduces themselves to her, Charlotte arriving just when Harry and Lis take their seats at the table. Though Harry had no doubts Lis would get along well with his friends, it’s still relieving to see her get settled so easily with the band. He can sense her restraint at the beginning, but soon enough she is talking and telling stories as if she knew them all for years.

“How do you make summer vacation work with Benji? Harry said he is spending time with his grandparents now,” Sarah questions over the main course and Lis seems a little taken aback, which Sarah immediately recognizes. “Oh, I’m sorry, should I not ask about him?”

“No, it’s alright. I just… I guess I didn’t think Harry shared much about him.” Her eyes wander over to the man in question who is deep in conversation with Mitch, didn’t even hear what Sarah asked.

“Oh please, he wouldn’t stop telling us about him every time we are at the studio,” she chuckles.

“Really?”

“Yeah. He really likes the boy.” Lis just packs it all up in her head, labeling it as another reason why she loves Harry so much.

“Well, he is going to go out to camp for a week, but other than that, he usually comes to work with me.”

“That’s so amazing!”

The evening carries on and Harry can’t not notice how Lis keeps glancing down at her phone every five minutes. One time, when she reaches for the phone his hand grabs hers, stopping her from grabbing the device.

“You sure everything is alright? You keep looking at your phone.” He tries to find a hint, anything in her eyes that gives away why she is acting different, but she cautiously keeping her gaze diverted from his.

“I’m good, don’t worry,” she answers, but when her phone lights up, an incoming call from her mom, she immediately snatches it from the table and excusing herself she walks out to the street to answer the call.

Harry clenches his jaw, looking after her, knowing well something is not right, but he doesn’t know why she wouldn’t tell him what it is about. He tries to stay still, to let her get it sorted out as she wishes, but he just can’t.

“I’ll be right back,” he mumbles to the group before going after Lis.

Walking out he stops at the entrance, looking both ways before she spots her at the corner of the building, her back facing him as she holds the phone to her ear, leaning against the brick wall. He has a fleeting thought about not eavesdropping on a conversation that wasn’t meant for his ears, but his curiosity and worry brings him forward.

“But you didn’t tell him right?” her voice is heard when he is a few steps away from her. “Maybe I should bring him home earlier… But mum, what if he just turns up there? He knows you live there, I can’t have him just waltz in… No, I get it, but there’s little you can do when he is there… I really don’t know… He hasn’t, but it’s a matter of time, I think. He already knows I work there and God knows why he was asking around about me.”

Harry soon realizes what the conversation must be about and he is definitely not impressed by several reasons. Standing there with his jaw clenched, he waits for her to end the call and realize his presence. When she finally says her goodbye, pushing herself away from the brick wall, Harry watches her turn around and jump at the sight of him.

“Harry, you—“

“What’s going on?” he cuts her off right away, eyes burning down on her.

“I, uhh—Can we… Can we have this conversation at home?” she pleads quietly.

“Just tell me what it’s about, because I thought I was seeing things when I noticed that you’ve been acting weird, but I was clearly right. There is something and I want to know what it is.” “Harry, I really don’t want to ruin the evening with it now.”

“Nonsense, because there’s no way I can just act like everything is fine until we get home.”

Exhaling shakily, Lis realizes she can’t push it back any further, she has to come clear.

“Last weekend, when we were away, Austin called Golden Sunshine, he was asking about me and the girl who works on the weekend accidentally told him that it’s in fact my workplace. He wanted to know stuff about me, but didn’t get much. Then today my mum noticed a car waiting across the street for about an hour. Someone was sitting in it or that’s how she saw. Mum thinks it was him.”

Harry feels his rage build up with each passing moment for two reasons: one being that Annalise wanted to keep it away from him that her ex is suddenly looking for her. Second is that Austin has the nerve to pop up out of nowhere after abandoning his family and creep the Hell out of Lis and basically everyone in her family probably.

“And why didn’t you tell me this? You think I wouldn’t want to know if your ex is suddenly looking for you? That’s pretty major, Lis,” he snaps, having a hard time to contain himself as much as he would like to.

“I didn’t want to worry you, hoped the call was nothing, but the whole car thing is now stressing me out. I would have told you, I just…” exhaling sharply she runs her fingers through her hair. “I don’t know, I guess it feels weird to talk about him with you.”

“It’s not like you are sharing with me your sex life with him, this is stuff that I want to know about, this concerns your and Benji’s safety as well and I feel like I have a saying in those things.” “I know, I’m sorry. It was stupid of me to not tell. Please don’t be mad at me,” she begs, desperate to somehow make it right though she knows she messed up.

She can tell Harry is fuming, his piercing green eyes are filled with the mixture of worry, rage and anger for many reasons, all of them valid in her opinion. She wishes she could go back in time and tell him about it in a different way, but there’s nothing to do now.

“Harry, please say something,” she breathes out, wanting nothing else than to finally hear what he is thinking about. However, he is not letting her in that easily now.

“Let’s get back inside. We’ll talk when we are alone.”

Though Lis wants to protest, she knows it’s what should happen. Nodding shortly the two of them head back inside and push everything down until the end of dinner. It’s hard to focus on their group once they return, they both feel far away from the dinner table.

The evening drags longer than they would have liked, or that’s just how they feel. They try their best to mask their feelings, not wanting to bring their friends into this upsetting situation. However, when they are sitting in the car on their way home, they both notice that they could cut the tension for sure. Lis is chewing on her bottom lip nervously, afraid of what’s been going on in Harry’s head and cursing herself out at the same time for not telling him the first moment.

“I can stay at home tonight if you don’t want me over,” she finds herself saying, voice quiet and reserved. Harry glances in her direction for a split second.

“Is that what you want? You want to go home?”

“No. I just figured you might want some… space.”

“Well, I don’t. So unless you want to go home yourself, I want you at mine.”

It’s relieving, though still not enough to ease her anxiety that’s been clawing on her chest all evening. But at least he still wants her around.

The silence is painful for the both of them and it’s something that hasn’t happened between them since they’ve met. Lis keeps glancing in his way, trying to figure out what he must be thinking about, but it seems like Harry keeps his emotions so much at bay, nothing gives away where his thoughts are lying. She is forced to wait until they can finally talk.

Walking inside Lis feels out of place, for the first time ever since she has started seeing Harry. She watches him drop off his belongings in the bedroom before returning to the living room, a hard look on his handsome face. It seems like he is trying hard to find the right words to start this conversation. Hands on his hips he stands in front of her, eyes fixed on the floor before they finally meet her desperate ones.

“Okay, first of all, is Benji alright? Do you want us to go and bring him home?” he asks with a tired sigh.

“I-I think he is fine for now. Mum says she is keeping a close eye on him.”

“Alright. Just let me know if you change your mind and want him here.”

“Thank you,” she nods shortly and through the bitterness of the situation, she is thankful he still takes the time to think about her boy.

“Okay and now let’s talk about why you kept it from me that Austin has been looking for you. Any specific reason, something I did? Did I make you feel like you couldn’t talk to me about it?”

“No! Not at all!” she shakes her head right away. Taking his hand softly she pulls him down to the couch so they sit turned towards each other, her knee brushing against his thigh. Though his hand is a deadweight in her hold, as if he doesn’t want her to hold it, she still doesn’t let go of it. “Harry, I know I can tell you anything and I always do that. I just felt like you’ve had enough to worry about and didn’t want to add to it. I always…” Her voice dies down as she is now fighting with her tears. She’s been putting away these thoughts ever since their first lunch date, when she realized she can’t let go of him and he won’t either.

Harry notices her struggle and pulls his hand out of her hold, bringing it up to her face to cup her cheek. His thumb runs across her soft skin, his eyes falling down at her trembling lips.

“I always feel like a burden to you. I’m not easy to be with because I’m not living the usual life people my age have. It would be hard for a normal guy, but you are not one! I just don’t want to hold you back in any way, but there are things that I can’t change. When I found out that Austin was asking about me I thought this is something I can handle on my own and don’t have to worry you with it.”

“Lis…” he breathes out, starting to finally put together her train of thoughts and though he is still mad, now he is more heartbroken that she is still feeling like she has to be so considerate about him in some cases. “You are not a burden, never was and I can assure you that you’ll never be. I chose to be with you, and not just part of you, all of it. The good, the bad, all of it. I don’t want you to feel like you can’t count on me always, because you can. I want to be there for you no matter what it’s about.”

“I know!” she breathes out shakily, the tears already building up in her eyes. “But I can’t help thinking that one day… you won’t feel the same. Like you’ll be fed up with all the baggage that I come with!”

“What baggage, baby? Your fucker ex? That’s not your fault.”

“Him and… Benji?” she adds.

“Benji is not a baggage, Lis. I love him, would easily do anything for him, he is not a burden in any way. I’m so happy I got to meet him because of you and I’m happy that you are letting me have a part in his life. I already told you, but I’ll never stop telling you that I look up at you so much for everything you do for yourself and for Benji.”

Now she is crying. Hard. The way his eyes filled with nothing but love when he is talking about Benji, it’s all she ever wished for in a man and he is so much more than that. To think that she didn’t even want to let him into her life is a sickening thought, how she didn’t trust him enough to see what an amazing man he is.

Moving forward she climbs to his lap and he circles his welcoming arms around her, holding her close to his chest as she starts sobbing, completely touched by his words.

“I’m sorry I’m so emotional,” she mumbles between sobs. “I just… It’s still so hard for me to understand why…”

She doesn’t finish the sentence, but he knows exactly what she was thinking about: It’s still so hard for her to understand why he is with her. And it’s heartbreaking to know it’s how she feels, but it also makes him determined to change her way of seeing him for once and for all.

“It’s alright. I just want you to talk to me, okay? I want to know everything that’s important to you, good or bad, doesn’t matter.”

She just nods, holding onto him for dear life. They stay like that for what feels like hours, her crying slowly dies down and he patiently waits for her to breathe normally again, continuously pressing soft kisses to her forehead and the top of her head. When she finally lifts her head up, a small smile plays on her lips and though her eyes are red and puffy from the crying, he still thinks she is the most beautiful man he has ever seen.

“Feeling better?” he murmurs softly and she nods again. “Okay. So what do you want to do about Austin?”

“I haven’t figured it out,” she huffs tiredly. “I don’t even know for sure if it was really him in the car my mum saw and other than the call to my work place, nothing else happened.”

“Is there any reason why you should be afraid of him? Like, has he ever…” Harry doesn’t even get himself to say the word, just thinking about it rages him.

“No,” she shakes her head. “But I haven’t seen him in ages, God knows what he is like now.”

“If you want to move here with Benji, if that would make you feel safer, I’m perfectly okay with that. I have plenty of space for the both of you.”

“You’d let us come here just like that?” she asks, stunned at how easily he is talking about such a major step.

“Of course,” he nods confidently. A soft smile tugs on her lips as she kisses him gently, as a way of saying thank you.

“I think we are fine for now,” she then replies. “But thank you.”

A short silence sets in, both of them are deep in their thoughts, processing everything that happened tonight and there’s one more question stuck on Harry’s mind that he needs to ask.

“So… what happens if he reaches out? If he wants to meet you and Benji?”

Lis sighs heavily, the thought has been haunting her as well all week and she hasn’t come up with a solid answer to this just yet.

“It depends on what he really wants. It’s not like I want him back in my life, but if he wants to see Benji… I don’t think I can tell him no. Legally, he is allowed to see him. It’s a whole different story that I don’t want him to though.”

Her answer was valid and reasonable, though it still brought some uneasiness to Harry. Just thinking about Austin meeting Benji makes him want to scream. The man left his family so easily, like they meant absolutely nothing to him and he is the reason why Lis had to build up her whole life alone. Not that Harry would have liked it better if he was still in the picture, but in his beliefs, a man who abandons his family is simply not a man. Even if he didn’t want to be with Lis anymore, he should have made sure to support her in raising Benji and not just disappear into thin air.

However Harry knows he doesn’t have a say in it and that what Lis said is relevant. The man might have walked out of their lives, but legally he still has the right to see Benji, nothing is stopping him.

Harry keeps his doubts and fears to himself, he needs to be the person Lis can rely on now, whatever is about to happen. It’s all secondary what he thinks or feels right now.

The two of them stay on the couch for another hour, just talking and sharing and they both feel like it was what they needed. Their relationship was going smooth, but they had to realize they still have a lot to work on and tonight was a step forward. They then have a hot shower together and this time they don’t get carried away, it’s all about the gentle touches, the hot water washing away their worries for a short time, keeping it just an intimate but not sexual moment.

Lying in bed Harry pulls her close, her head lies on his chest as she is drawing little patterns on his chest, her fingers delicately following the lines of his tattoos. Her thoughts are wandering, jumping from one thought to the other until something makes her come to a halt, a soft, ironic chuckle escaping her lips.

“Wha’s so funny?” Harry asks quietly.

Lifting her head, she rests her chin on his chest, her arms spread out over his ribs. It’s not even that funny, more ironic seeing the timeline of their relationship.

“I just think it’s pretty hilarious how I was the one to warn you several times not to make me regret my decisions about you and then I end up being the one thinking that you regretted getting together with me.”

She laughs some more, a smile tugging on Harry’s lips as well, seeing that it’s indeed a little funny, if he thinks about it.

“Oh how the tables have turned,” he grins, kissing her forehead.

“But on a serious note,” she starts, clearing her throat. “Do you have any regrets?”

“None,” he answers right away without hesitation.

“Not even one tiny bit?”

“Absolutely none,” he confirms and pulls his arms tighter around her. She smiles widely, pushing herself up a bit so her lips can meet his.

“Hope it stays this way.”

NEXT PART

TAGLIST

let me know if you’d like to be added or taken off!

@stylesfics-xx @dontworrysunflower @mariamuses @bookwormandtea @swtxel @ericadrumgoole1

#harry #styles #harry styles #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fanfic #harry styles imagine #harry styles au #harry styles series #harry styles oneshot #harry styles one shot #harry styles x oc #harry styles serendipity #harry styles serendipity series #serendipity #serendipity series #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst

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wheninitalyy · 3 years

Text

France is no escape - part 3.

A/N - hello?? Yes! I’m alive and well, I hope everyone has had a wonderful holiday season and I am embarrassed that this part has taken me so long to get written and posted but here it is!

With how long this took me + my drop is writing inspiration, I cannot say there will be a part 4 soon or at all (never say never though). Either way I'm not going anywhere and I will find more things to write, I'm open to request ideas but I can’t promise I can do them. I know this never got very romantic nor did you get to read more than learning about the reader and the inner-conflicts of they’re relationship with Benny, but I hope you enjoyed it either way.

Thank you & I hope you enjoy part three :]

Pairing : Benny Watts x Reader

Word count : 3041 (omg over 3k)

Warnings : mentions of alcohol & swearing

Other Parts : Part One, Part Two

- - - - - - - - - - - -

It’s surreal thinking my life choices are affecting others.

It’s surreal to think that leaving is more than a new start, it’s also taking something away from the people around me.

I do believe that I disappointed more than Benny by leaving, maybe Harry and Matt. Maybe I stepped into Cleo’s life for the better but stepped out of so many others for the worse.

I rubbed the sleep from my eyes and any forming tears, this wasn’t the day to pity myself and cry at sunrise. I didn’t want that for myself nor did I want to confirm my thoughts of being completely and utterly at my guilt’s mercy.

The sun glared through the sheers to tickle my skin and bother my eyes open.

At home I didn’t even have curtains, I was in love with the look sheers gave my home. I was in love with the moments where I can see the window made of sun on the floor and bed, in love with feeling the warmth of the sky.

I hope that Benny is out of that basement by now and up in the sun, up where he can have moments like mine.

I think of him all the time, I think of him when I’m happy because he is the one who taught me all the different shades of happiness.

I sound so sappy when I talk about Benny but that’s what I used to be all the time, sappy.

Benny wasn’t one to share feelings and talk about emotions like I was, and I never changed that, but I never wanted to.

He was my favorite person to talk to, my favorite brain to pick at.

My constant nagging about what was on his mind surely irritated him but I’m glad he talked to me about it all, all the inner conflicts and all the pretty thoughts.

I groaned into my pillow. I’m hungover on those beers… and some feelings.

I dragged my sleepy mind and body out of bed, it was going to take some time to feel myself again after steering away from alcohol for months. Now irritated by that woozy feeling in the back of my thoughts, ugh, I didn’t miss that one bit.

The city was just waking up with me, the nighttime had just fallen asleep here in Paris while the day started bright and loud.

I pulled myself to the window to look down on the city.

People walked the streets, either off to work or possibly coming to watch handsome chess players compete just to be the biggest and the best.

There was lack of smell in my room and cologne on my clothes—from the boys I hung around last night—that made my morning feel so different than the others.

The tournament started at noon, I needed to get to work.

I needed to call the writers and get down there to take shots of the players, get photos while I still can.

I looked down at myself, dressed in the same clothes as last night minus a layer or two.

I took a deep breath.

I thought about last night, I thought about wanting to walk down on those streets while it was light. This would be the perfect hour for a refreshing morning walk in Paris.

There was so much stopping me from enjoying this morning, my work, the distant feeling of pain behind my eyes, and my messy mind.

Fuck this.

I’ll be quick, just an hour or so but I’ll have to get ready now if I’m going to go before work drags me in the opposite direction.

After my short shower, I called the author for the magazine I was working for.

“Darling, I was there all day but you were clearly too busy to notice me,” he laughed,

I furrowed my brows, “What ever do you mean?”

“I mean, you were spending the night playing chess with a US Chess Champion,”

“No,” I cleared my throat, “Yes I was, but he’s an old friend,” I insisted knowing the tone in his voice meant he believed differently.

“Sure,” he paused, I heard papers flipping on the other side of the line. “I have an interview set up with Watts at six and Hilton at eight this evening, I’ll have it written up by Monday. If you can get the photos to me before then, I can take care of the rest,” he told me.

“I can do that, but…” I paused,

“Something wrong?”

I rubbed my temple with my hand and sighed, “No, it’s nothing. I’ll call you when I get the photos,” I told him.

“Well if you’re sure… I’ll see you soon,” he said his goodbyes.

I hung up the call, dropping the phone back into its resting place.

I ran into the bathroom to change out of the towel that was wrapped around me.

I pulled a dark-green turtleneck over my head, adjusting the neck so the bends and bunched fabric looked just right.

I was in a rush, I put the rest of my clothes on along with jewelry like my rings, watch, and a necklace.

“Shit,” I whispered as I saw the time on my watch, “I need to hurry,” I took one last look in the mirror. I straightened the belt I wore on my waist and left the bathroom.

I quickly slipped on my shoes, grabbing my bag and camera and stepped out the door. I closed the door tightly behind me and started walking down the hallway, I mumbled something not even I could translate as I watched my feet walk under me, the patterned carpet rushing past my eyes.

Random chatter of reporters and famous chess players filled my ears as soon as the elevator doors opened.

This was my environment.

I pulled my bag over my shoulder and secured it as I walked out of the elevator.

My hair fell in my eyes while my gaze darted around the dark green and red colored lobby I stood in, the chandeliers sparkled, and the sun shined through the tall arched windows.

I looked around for anyone I knew before I started to walk to the exit, almost creeping away from the crowds trying to focus so my morning plans weren’t postponed.

I relaxed as I got close to the exit.

“Going somewhere?” I ran straight into someone I planned on avoiding this morning,

I pulled myself away quickly to see Benny stood in front of me, in his usual attire and a magazine held in one hand.

It seemed as he just entered the building, is he staying somewhere else?

“Oh... Benny,” I mumbled as I dusted myself off, feeling a bit self-conscious suddenly.

“Don’t act so excited,” he scoffed and threw the magazine on a table next to the door.

The date on the magazine was todays, big words read Chess Tournament this Afternoon! The BEST meant to compete this year in Paris!

I felt my breathing speed up, my body stiffened and there was no where to hide from the pressure that was on me today.

Benny rolled his eyes at my flustered expression and smiled; he ruffled my hair like Matt would do. I pulled away from his hand and fixed my hair.

“So?” he asked,

“So...?”

“Where you off to? It’s a big day, you’re not running away already, are you?” he joked, I shook my head and sighed.

“I wanted to... get some fresh air before I got to work,” I whispered and rubbed the sides of my legs nervously as I looked to the door behind the tall man,

“Hm... mind if I join you?” he asked, my eyes shot to him.

My thoughts immediately went to this being a perfect opportunity to get some photos of him.

And although I planned to stay far away from distractions today, I couldn’t deny that I wouldn’t mind his company this morning...

“Actually- if you wouldn’t be opposed, maybe I could get some shots of you somewhere in town? For the magazine I mean,” I suggested as I gave him a smile, a wonky nervous smile.

He went to say something and stopped abruptly, his eyes widened, he looked worried.

Benny grabbed my hand suddenly, before I could even comprehend what was happening, he pulled me out the door and around the corner.

He pulled me away from the doors.

I watched a few people look in our direction with judgmental gazes,

“Are you out of your mind?” I looked at Benny who stood beside me, my hand still loosely in his.

He huffed out a laugh and looked out at the streets.

I pulled myself off the wall I unconsciously leaned on and shook his hand off, I put my hands over my mouth and nose letting out a nervous exhale.

“Why did you do that?” I scanned the area for any eyes on us, the last thing I would want was to be seen with US Chess Champion Benny Watts sneaking around the hotel.

“I’m… avoiding a certain nosey reporter,” he looked at me, “Oh, god. Would you not be so dramatic Y/N?” I let my hands drop to my sides.

“Do you know how much- you are so-” I cut my pointless argument off, “Let’s just get going,” I pulled my bag strap over my head so it wouldn’t slip and started walking down the path that led out of the hotel’s property.

After a while of listening to Benny enthuse about some past Chess tournaments he played in and how he was so very confident about this one, we arrived at restaurant that was just getting ready to open up.

I ignored Benny as I walked up to an employee who was sweeping around the restaurant’s outdoor seating.

“Excuse me?” I caught the employee’s attention,

“What are you doing,” Benny whispered, I ignored Benny again.

“Do you think I could use our outdoor seating for a quick photoshoot?” the woman gave me an odd look and glanced to the restaurant’s building furrowing her eyebrows.

“You see, this is Benny Watts. I’m sure you’ve heard of him,” I waited for a change in expression, she grabbed her broom and smiled.

“This place is about ready,” she paused and looked at her watch, “You have about forty-five minutes until we open up, try to be done by then?” I smiled and nodded.

I grazed one of the metal tables with my fingertips as I looked around for a good background.

I didn’t choose this place randomly; it was very nicely decorated and there was lots of green, perfect for a casual shoot. Deep-red painted wooden fencing—that purple and green vines had grown around—outlined their small wooden decking extension.

The weather was beautiful, the bright blue sky peeked through scattered white clouds that covered most of the sky.

The birds danced in the sky; everyone was out, kids, parents, groups of high-schoolers, and older men who sat playing chess on this exciting day.

“We are taking photos here?” I looked over my shoulder and smiled at the cocky and somewhat sassy man. Benny sat down on a metal chair and looked around; he wasn’t amused by our location, but I thought it was perfect.

“Yes, now sit down here,” I pointed to a chair that I had pulled up by the restaurant’s windows.

After I bossed Benny around and had him test different poses, I pulled out my camera.

“So, are you still in that small basement?” I smiled as I fixed the lighting on the camera and took a couple test shots.

“No, I got out of there a while ago,” I motioned for him to lean back, “Finally living somewhere that gets sun,” his words made me think of my morning thoughts.

“I’m glad,” the camera clicked, I crouched down by Benny’s chunky black boots.

“Do you miss New York at all?” the camera clicked again.

I sighed and pulled the camera away from my face, “Of course,” I stood up. “I miss hearing people outside no matter the hour, I miss watching people rush everywhere they went. Hell, I even miss arguing with strangers over such normal things,” I gently pulled Benny’s hand off the table to move the table out of the frame.

Benny’s fingers curled around my hand, “Come back, come visit me,” I looked at him. I bit the edge of my bottom lip and glanced away from Benny; I can’t look at that sad expression of his.

“Benny,” I looked down avoiding eye-contact still,

“Or let me visit you… I meant it when I said I missed you Y/N,” he sounded so genuine and sad, so unlike the Benny I knew.

I looked up at him, he squeezed my hand then let go.

I pulled away from him and moved the table slightly, “Will- will you come over here?” I stuttered from my sudden strike of anxiety.

He got up and followed me to the vine covered fence and I had him lean against it.

The camera clicked; I lowered the camera slowly as I stared at him, he was handsome.

I changed my angle a couple times and no matter the angle, he looked just as perfect.

“I should probably get some with a chess board,” I mumbled looking above the fencing for any possible chess tables or stores that sold a board.

I sighed, “Do you think we can get some shots at the hotel after the tournament?” I asked him.

“Okay,” he pushed himself away from the fence, “Are we done then?”

“Yeah… for now,” I grabbed my bag that I had sat down near the gate out, “Shall we?” I put my camera in the bag and looked over my shoulder, hoping he would like to stick around for a bit longer this morning.

He turned on his heel to look at me and stared for a moment…

This wasn’t going to work if I wasn’t going to try, this would end here and now if I didn’t show him that I wanted to be part of his life as well.

He smiled and I felt some weight lifted off my chest, there’s my Benny.

“Y/N!” I looked over my shoulder to be met with the bright smile of the familiar woman who worked at the front desk, I smiled and headed over to her.

I had just got back to the hotel after my little photoshoot and wander around with Benny, Benny had left me immediately as we got back so he didn’t run late for the many small interviews that he had agreed to.

“Hi,” I sighed crossing my arms on the front desk, I had just got back from speaking to the magazine author.

“Long day already?” she gave me a sympathetic smile,

“Not really… just a lot on my mind,”

“Like Benny Watts?” I glanced back to her, “I saw you leave this morning with him,” she explained.

Yes, of course Benny Watts was on my mind. After he asked me to either come visit him or him visit me, all I could think about was how I was going to deal with the spiraling emotions of guilt if I didn’t tell him I wanted to spend more time with him too.

I went to lie to the nosey woman with a smile, but the smile seemed to slip off my face as I glanced at Benny, who was speaking to some men near the ballroom.

“Speak of the devil…”

I cannot stress how long it felt like when I stood there and stared at the man, I had too many doubts and too many pros and cons list in my mind.

Although the list did nothing to fight against my gut feeling.

I had to.

I wasn’t going to have Benny remember me as the fool who managed to sneak into his life for a brief moment just to disappoint.

In some alternate universe, this is a mistake and I will be cursing the gods for letting me do this. But, in this one, it’s the only rewarding choice.

I sighed heavily and swiftly started walking over to the sparkling ballroom, that would usually contain a shiny dancefloor but is now filled with chess tables and the echoing sound of judgmental pacing.

“Benny,” I caught his attention rather quickly,

“Oh, hey Y/N,” he greeted me in his monotone ‘serious’ voice.

“One week,” I glared at the men who were just talking to Benny which had them shift their gaze away from us, “You stay with me for one week… but you leave as soon as that seventh day comes around, understand?” I looked back to Benny.

Benny’s eyes widened, he put a hand gently around my forearm. I looked down to realize how close I had gotten to him, I meant to just appear serious and not catch anyone’s eye but why do I feel as I did the quite opposite…

“Wait,” his voice softened,

“Mr. Watts, it’s time.” Benny’s eyes darted to the man who spoke.

It was time for the tournament, our morning lasted a bit longer than I had thought.

“No, I-” he stopped his sentence to let out what I could only explain as a low growl, in my direction, of course. “Your timing is fantastic, you know?” he rubbed his temple with his hand that was previously on my arm,

“Now, go. Good luck Mr. Watts, I know you’ll do just fine,” I earned a smile from him, I straightened the collar on his coat quickly and smiled back.

And off he went, he wasn’t one to be late for a tournament, his conscience wouldn’t let him.

I felt my confidence drop and I felt heavy enough to drop straight through the marble floor after Benny disappeared into the ballroom.

Along with the heavy feeling came rushing waves of happiness and euphoria. I was proud, and I was thankful to myself that I am bringing him back into my life, even if its just for a week.

I have to start trying again. I have to give myself a chance to appreciate these connections that I was isolating myself from… just one more chance.

- - - - - - - - - - - -

tags : @heartofeden @gothicwidowsworld @gold-star-for-me @peterspideyy @directioner-tributes @epistrofh-twn-ypogeiwn-poihtwn @is-it-really-a-secret

Thank you for reading, you’re so cool !

#benny watts #benny watts imagines #the queens gambit #the queens gambit imagines #benny watts x reader #Thomas Brodie-Sangster #thomas brodie-sangster imagines

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purpletaecup · 4 years

Photo

7 ☾ i loved you. i’m sorry.

warnings: depictions of panic attacks

notes: writing the end of this chapter made me cry t^t luv u guys, thank you for the support. i love writing this story so much! feel free to send an ask to the IFU universe characters or vent to me about them! also, there is a picture in here that i drew!!!! it’s not that great but I hope you guys like it :-)

word count: 4,471

“Who are you?”

Those words echo in Yoongi’s ear as if it was his final judgment from the king of hell. He staggered but held onto the edge of your hospital bed to keep from falling. He could only look at you in shock and silence while the doctor came up from behind him and examined you.

“Miss Kim, how are you feeling? Is there any pain?” The doctor asked.

You rubbed and blinked a couple of times. Everything was still a little blurry.

“M’head hurts and my body is so sore,” you reply. “Why am I here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember, Miss Kim?”

Rubbing your temples, you groaned in frustration, not remembering how you ended up in this hospital bed.

“I can’t remember. Everything’s really fuzzy right now.”

The doctor turns to Yoongi, who sat himself down on the chair further away from you.

“Do you recognize him?”

You looked at the man in the chair and examined him for a while. There’s a chill that runs through Yoongi’s body as he sees your eyes roam him from head to toe. He almost expects to see some kind of anger or resentment on your face, but receives nothing but confusion.

You turn back to the doctor shaking your head. He opens his mouth to say something but Yoongi beats him to it.

“It’s okay, doc, we can talk about that later, but is she okay? You said your head was hurting, right, Yn?” He says, looking back at you.

Cautiously, you nod at him before looking at the doctor again.

“It’s throbbing and it feels like there’s drums banging in my head.”

��This is all completely normal. You were in a pretty severe car accident and received a pretty worrisome head injury. You were unconscious for about five days, so your body has already started its healing process. In the coming weeks, you might experience some delayed symptoms related to the concussion you received.”

“What kind of symptoms? Is she going to be okay?” Though shocked as he was with your current predicament, Yoongi couldn’t help but worry even more.

“Mr. Min, if you would just let me continue, I can give you and Miss Yn all the answers you need. Because of the nature of the accident, she received a pretty bad head injury resulting in a concussion I believe to be grade II or III.”

“What is that supposed to mean?” You asked.

“It’s just a way to classify the severity of the concussion you received. Since you were in a car accident, you sustained a lot of other injuries but nothing too severe like broken bones. Miraculously enough, you managed to be wheeled away with only lacerations, bruising and a head injury. You were unconscious for about five days and you’re exhibiting signs of amnesia along with blurriness and headaches. These are all signs of a grade II or III concussion, though we won’t know which one until after a few more days of monitoring. Either way, there is the possibility of delayed symptoms like headaches, nausea and imbalance. After we’ve monitored your brain activity and symptoms for a few days, we can determine the grade of concussion clearly and proceed with treatment if needed. I’m leaning a bit more towards a grade II because you’re still able to speak and understand in a normal manner, but the memory loss is worrisome so we’ll have to monitor that and see if it lasts for over 24 hours or not.”

You groaned and tried to sit up straighter, but your muscles, so sore and unused for days, were making it difficult. Yoongi, who had inched closer and closer to you while the doctor spoke, held your hand in one of his while the other helped push you to sit up more comfortably. You murmur a soft thanks in his direction.

“I still don’t understand. You’re saying that I have amnesia, but I feel like I remember everything I should. I know my name, my parent’s names, my friends and my family’s names.” You begin to explain, not really understanding the whole ‘amnesia’ thing.

“How old are you? And what year is it?” The doctor asked while scribbling on your chart.

“19, and it’s 2016.” As soon as those words came out of your mouth, Yoongi fell into a quiet shock once again. Not only had you not recognized him, he was completely erased from your memory. You two met when you were 19, and in your head, you were 19 and you had no idea who he was, so your memory must have conveniently stopped sometime before you met him. He almost scoffs at the irony of it all.

“Miss Kim, you’re 23. You just turned 23 two months ago and it’s currently 2020. Today is the eleventh of November.”

The gasp leaves your mouth before you realize it. Your shaky hands lift up to cover your mouth and you feel tears well up in your eyes from the impact of the doctor’s statement.

“What do you mean? How can I just lose four years in my memory?” Your voice cracks when you ask and through the tears and the shaky breaths, you feel the ghost of a hand on your back.

“That, we don’t know. We haven’t seen an amnesia case this severe in decades, but that’s why we’re going to be monitoring you. Amnesia in head injury patients is pretty unpredictable, but most people who experience amnesia usually only lose memories within the day or at most a week, but it usually never lasts for more than a couple of days. You losing four years of memories doesn’t essentially correlate to how long it will take to regain those memories. For all we know, you could get them back tonight, but like I said, it’s pretty unpredictable.”

It takes a moment for all of it to sink in and absorb. Okay, so you lost four years of memories, but you might regain them soon. Although it’s not a guarantee, it’s still a possibility. You wipe the tears and you steady your breath before turning to the doctor once again.

“What’s he got to do with all of this? I still don’t know who he is or why he’s here.” You ask while pointing to the man beside you.

The doctor looks at you, then looks at him as if expecting him to take the floor and explain things himself.

“I’m Min Yoongi.” He holds out his hand intending you shake yours. You lift your wired up hand to his and he encloses it gently. It’s warm.

“Okay, Min Yoongi, that doesn’t explain how I’m supposed to know you?” You question again, a little bit of attitude in your voice.

It’s silent for a moment. Sensing the tension, the doctor excuses himself, telling them that he’ll send some nurses to help with your headaches and soreness.

Yoongi’s grip tightens on your hand. He contemplates for a little while about how to explain who he was in your life and who you were in his. Can he say that you’re his wife? Will that make it easier for the both of you since you were pregnant? But that was a lie, because you were divorced.

And he had lied to you enough times during your marriage. He thinks it might be the time to be more truthful.

“We were together for four years.” He starts. You wriggle your hand out of his, feeling a little too warm.

“Ah, if we were together for four years, how come I don’t remember you?”

Yoongi thinks about how to answer this one. He hums for a couple of seconds before he asks, “well, in your head, when did you turn 19?”

It was your turn to let a “hmm” pass your lips this time.

“Last week!”

“Okay, so in your timeline, we would have met next week. Two weeks after your birthday, on September 24.”

You nod your head in understanding, but you wince pretty obviously right after. The bruises are aching and you think it’s because you sat up for too long. Yoongi puts his hand on your arm and guides you to lay down.

“Here, just lay down and I’ll sit right here and answer your questions, okay?” He reassures.

After laying down, you try to move your body to the side so you could face where he was sitting.

“So how come you’re here and not my family members?” You asked after a minute’s silence, trying to think of a question to ask. If baffled you that this man you don’t even remember is the only one visiting you in broad daylight after a severe car accident.

“Jin was here with me the day of your accident. He said he was going to take care of you, but he got called in for work and had to travel out of the country a couple of days ago.”

“What about my mom?”

“Actually, I’m not really sure. Jin told me that she was abroad.”

“So you’re the only one left. Must be important if you were in my emergency contacts.”

“I was the only emergency contact you had according to the nurses.”

At this moment, Yoongi looked at you with sad eyes, but you didn’t know why. It felt like it was penetrating you and a nagging voice in the back of your head told you to stop looking at him.

Eager to ease the tension, you ask how the two of you met. Yoongi rests his elbow on the arm rest of the chair, plopping his chin down on his palm.

“Well, I had a music video shoot on the same day as yours. You were doing a photoshoot, I think, and you were using the same set room as me. I went there early to talk to the directors, but you were in the middle of your shoot and I just stayed. I asked my manager to ask for your number and we started talking and then I asked you to be my girlfriend on Halloween at a costume party.” There was a smile on Yoongi’s face when he recalled that particular memory.

He had no recollection of whose party it was, but you two showed up in the best costumes you could muster. Lydia Deetz in her wedding dress and Beetlejuice. The party was fun and the two of you had spent the night in the garden of the venue, just laying down and admiring the stars on Halloween night. It was nearing midnight when the both of you heard a countdown coming from inside. Why there was a countdown for midnight on Halloween, neither of you had a clue, but he took it as a sign and as the grandfather clock chimed, he gave you a gentle kiss and asked (whispered) you to be his girlfriend.

He remembered your laughter from that night and it brought an even larger smile to his face.

You looked at him in awe, thinking his smile was simply breathtaking.

“So you fell in love with me at first sight, huh?” You asked teasingly.

Yoongi glared at you, but as soon as he spotted your little smirk, the glare melted away and a hesitant smile made its way on his face again.

“For your information, it was at first laugh.” He simply stated. At that, you gave a gentle smile and a quiet giggle into your hand.

In that moment, Yoongi was taken back to the early days of your relationship. The appearance of that gentle smile had catapulted him back to the happier days of your story. It was so different from you in the recent months. You, who had been so sad and exhausted and frustrated. Though pale and bruised and in a hospital bed, you looked much more youthful than before, as if you had reverted back to the person that was happiness personified.

“Right, okay. At first laugh. Never heard that before.”

“I’m serious. It was like hearing bells.”

“That doesn’t sound very appealing.”

“Good bells.”

You laughed again, a little scratchy this time. Yoongi handed you the glass of water on your bedside table.

“Okay, so you fell in love with me at first laugh, then what happened?” You asked, eager to find out about this story. At the moment, you really had no inkling of who this man was, but it intrigued you to hear your apparent love story. You loved a good love story and this one, yours, seemed to have a good start. Because you couldn’t recall it, hearing it from his mouth is like looking into your own love story from an outsider’s point of view.

Yoongi took the glass of water and placed it back on the table.

“Well, we got together obviously, and we were together for four years.”

“Past tense, so you’re an ex-boyfriend?” This was getting more interesting. You have always associated exes with heartbreak (at least the ones you remembered), so this was interesting. You must have been good friends after the breakup for him to be your emergency contact.

“Ex-husband, actually.”

Oh.

That stopped you in your tracks. Now, divorce was something you had never, ever thought about. Mentally, you were 19, and at 19, you were worried about your career. You had suffered your fair share of heartbreaks and cheating bastards in high school and swore off marriage until you got yourself together, so this revelation confused you a little bit. You two met when you were 19, but here you are at, apparently, 23 years old and you’re divorced. That’s actually… unbelievable.

“We started dating on Halloween technically, but I proposed in July and that’s when we agreed to celebrate our anniversaries even though that sounds kind of silly. You thought it would be cute to just have one single date to celebrate our anniversary. Something about Halloween being sacred to you.” Yoongi laughed a little nervously, eager to soften the mood just a little bit. He knows you don’t really remember, but it still feels strange to talk about your divorce.

“Wait, so break this down for me a little bit more. How long were we married for?”

“2 years. So I proposed the July after we started dating and then we got married a year later on the same date.”

“And when did we get divorced?”

Yoongi fiddled with his fingers a bit before answering, “ The end of September. We were drifting for some months already, so I think divorce was the best option for us.”

You nodded absentmindedly. It was a little strange to be here, in a hospital bed, listening to this man (who is apparently your ex-husband) talk about your divorce. You felt like you should be feeling something more than this, but all you can feel is some kind of nonchalance, like you were listening to a lecture on a subject you didn’t like. Still, this was your love life, something you treasured with all of your heart, and the news of this divorce with a man you can’t even remember is shocking but in a detached way, if that made sense.

“That makes sense. No one should stay in a marriage where the feelings aren’t there anymore.” You say slowly, silently, absorbing this whole situation.

From your peripheral, you see Yoongi just nod, not saying anything. The silence that befell the two of you was somewhat comfortable but solemn at the same time.

The silence was interrupted by murmurs coming from Yoongi.

“Don’t worry. Even though we’re not together, I’ll still take care of you. You don’t have any immediate family and I’m the only one you really know in this city. The least I can do is take care of you.”

You look at him and shake your head. The independent part of you wanted to deny that. Even though you were mentally 19, in actuality you were 23 and you knew how to take care of yourself.

“It’s fine, Yoongi. I’m a big girl, I can take care of myself.”

That silences Yoongi for a bit. He remembers you saying that all the time, moreso during the time you decided to quit modelling. He was worried about you, but you always reassured him that there was nothing to worry about. You were a big girl. A woman. When these words came out of your mouth, it reminded him that although you didn’t remember much, you were still the woman he knew deep down.

Before he gets lost in his thoughts again, he lets out a small laugh.

“Yeah, I know you can, but you don’t even know where you live. Do you even remember how to drive? I remember you learned how to drive when you were 21.”

You furrow your brows, angry at his statements, but decide that you can’t refute since what he’s saying is completely true.

“Okay, valid. You can go home if you want, though. They said they were gonna keep me here for a couple of days, so you don’t have to come to the hospital until then, I guess. You look kind of rich… and famous, so you must be busy all the time.”

“I’m my own boss, so I can take my own time off, but I do need to go to the company to settle some things before you get discharged.”

As he talked, your eyes become droopy and were slow to blink.

“Yn, are you okay?” Yoongi asks as he moves closer to your face to examine you. Instinctively, you move back a little, but you’re still close enough to see his eyes up close. You decide to close your eyes.

You mumble a little. “Mhm, just sleepy. Head still hurts.”

Yoongi pulls the blanket up to cover up to your neck and fixes your hair so that it’s not in your face. The intimacy is strange, but not unwelcome, you think.

“Kay, just go back to sleep. I’ll go talk to your doctor then I’m going to the company, okay? I’ll be back tomorrow to give you some of your necessities.” He whispers.

You could barely hear him, but you nod anyways. The disappearance of his warm hand left a cold, empty feeling. Soon enough, you drifted off into sleep.

☽

Yoongi takes one last look at your sleepy form before he quietly leaves the room. He sees your doctor from the corner of his eye and walks up to him. Before he could ask anything, the doctor tells him that they have the results from a scan taken the day prior.

“There seems to be no traumatic damage to the brain, so we have high hopes about a smooth journey to recovery. Of course, she is pregnant, so that might make things a bit more delicate, but nothing that is too difficult to adjust to. She’s right in the middle of her first trimester, so you both really need to be careful. It’s already a miracle that the fetus survived. The rest is up to you guys.”

“And what about the amnesia?”

“We’re still confused about the memory loss. As I mentioned before, the last case of amnesia that was that severe was such a long time ago, and there was no explanation or pattern that was found in the brain to justify the timeline of the memory loss. 4 years is a really long time. We believe she might be more sensitive due to having such a huge gap in her memory. We don’t know what could trigger memories or how she would react to them, but you and the rest of her family should come up with things or events to stimulate her brain activity and remind her of some of the memories that she lost.”

“That sounds reasonable. I don’t want to overwhelm her too much, so I held back a lot when I was talking to her today. If it’s possible, can we hold off on telling her about her pregnancy? At least until I come back and I can tell her myself. I tried to take the day off today, but I have to deal with the company first so I can be here when she’s discharged.” Yoongi explained.

The doctor looked nervous at first, but thought about it for a while.

“Yes, I think that might be for the best. Waking up in an unfamiliar place with no memories of the past four years can be very overwhelming so it might be easier to ease her into the news. Thank you Mr. Min, we’ll call you when there’s news.” The doctor says before holding his hand out for a handshake.

Yoongi let out a small smile as he shook the doctor’s hand.

“Yes, please let me know if anything happens and if her situation changes. I’ll be back tomorrow to drop off a new cellphone for her so it’s easier to contact people. I’ll see you then, doc. Thank you so much for your hard work.” Yoongi couldn’t help but praise him for being such a helpful person during a difficult time for both him and you.

“It’s no problem at all, Mr. Min. It makes me happy to see how devoted you are in taking care of your wife and future child.” The doctor smiles at him and pats his shoulder roughly before he walks away whistling.

Yoongi only stared at his back as he walked away from him. Devotion. That wasn’t something he was used to.

☽

He’d gone home that night and contemplated the strange encounter that you both had today. The initial shock he received when realizing that you couldn’t recognize him, worse yet remember him, was swept away quickly by your questions about your relationship with him. As the night ended and he tucked himself into his bed, he couldn’t stop thinking about your conversation today.

It was the most civil conversation you’ve had since before the divorce. It was basically the only conversation you’ve had since the divorce. The more he thought about it, the more he zoned out of the reality in front of it. He thought about your teasing smile when you asked if he fell in love with you at first sight. He thought about your laugh, like bells, when he corrected you and said it was love at first laugh. It was like the fates turned back time to when you two first met. It was like he was seeing you for the first time again.

The you from today was such a stark contrast from the you that Yoongi had lived with in the months leading up to your divorce. Being reminded of what you were like back then and comparing it to the person you turned into after 4 years together made his heart beat faster. He didn’t know what it was but thinking about how you changed, how you grew, made him nervous. These weren’t fluffy feelings of romance or admiration. It seemed to be more like fear. He looked down at his hands and realized that they were shaking. As the shaking continued, he noticed his breathing getting shorter and shorter. He didn’t know what was happening but having these thoughts made him feel so scared.

The tears escaped his eyes before he even realized he was crying. He had never experienced this before. His heart was beating so fast and he couldn’t stop shaking or crying but all he could focus on was your soft smile today and every time he saw it in his head, it crumbled into the 23 year old you who sobbed into her hands in front of him. He just kept thinking and thinking and thinking and it made him cry into his palms more and more. Behind his closed eyes were images of the two of you through the years and the way you had changed from a beautiful, happy person who could probably make the sun and all the planets stop into a sad, quiet, reserved woman who preferred to stay at home and be alone with your paper and your words.

Did he do that? Did he do that to you? Did he make you that sad? Was it his fault that you pulled away from him? Was it his fault that you two fell apart as catastrophically as you fell in love? Was he the reason for your accident?

No, no, no, no. He cried and cried and couldn’t breathe. I didn’t do that, I didn’t want to do that. I didn’t mean to do that. I loved you. I loved you. I’m sorry. I’m sorry.

At the same time, you woke up in your hospital bed, shocked by a nightmare that eventually dulled and became forgotten as soon as you woke. You felt like there was something important that the dream told you, but you couldn’t put your finger on it. Instead of trying to remember, you looked up at the ceiling of your hospital room and contemplated on your strange encounter with your so-called ex-husband today. Mentions of the divorce were vague, so you didn’t focus on it much. He told you a love story that you wouldn’t have believed if you hadn’t lost your memories. You smiled as you remembered that way he told you he fell in love at first laugh. There was a twinkle in his eye when he said that, but you still noticed a twinge of sadness and regret behind it all.

“For your information, it was at first laugh.”

You closed your eyes and tried so hard to remember anything, just the smallest thing, to confirm whatever Yoongi had told you, but nothing came to you except for a barrage of tears that was so sudden it shocked you. You tried to stop crying, but you couldn’t. You tried to laugh but it only ended in broken sobs. There was a hurt in your chest that you couldn’t precisely describe. It was sharp, and it hurt your heart, like it was breaking little by little. It wasn’t happiness. Not at all. It felt like a sadness that you hadn’t ever felt before (or at least your 19 year old self), but you couldn’t possibly remember why you felt like this. The tears kept coming and coming and it frustrated you so much that you didn’t know why you were crying like this. You just wanted to remember something about your marriage, your relationship, and Min Yoongi. You couldn’t understand why you were feeling like this.

Of course, though the memory is lost, the hurt and sorrow that your heart had gone through couldn’t be forgotten. At least not by your body. It was a sadness so deep in your bones that not even the loss of the memories associated with this hurt could erase it.

☽

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vintage-squid · 3 years

Text

Threading Our Future

Summary: When up-and-coming designer Virgil Psykhe lands an interview with his favourite fashion label, he has no idea that the attention he's drawn to himself is being taken away from someone very important: the Lady of the Summer Court. Scorned and furious, she sends her son to kill the insolent human.

But when Janus lays eyes on Virgil for the first time, his breath is stolen by the fluttering of his heart and he knows he won't be able to follow through with his mother's orders.

A modern fae re-telling of the Eros and Psyche myth!

Pairing: Virgil/Janus (background Logan/Patton) Characters: Virgil, Janus, Roman, Remy, Patton, Logan, Remus Rating: T Warnings: mild violence and blood mention, nonsexual nudity, literal sleeping together Word count: 10 363

-----

Virgil Psykhe groaned as he stood from his chair, bracing both hands against the small of his back and pressing until he felt a satisfying series of pops from his hips and up his spine. He should know better by now than to spend hours on end hunched over his projects without taking proper breaks, but he honestly couldn’t help it. Once he got focused, his whole world narrowed to sketch, cut, sew, trim. It was like he was possessed by some crazy spirit who deemed his sarcastic, introverted ass worthy enough to use as a vessel for creation. At least, that’s how he described the near-frenzy he would fall into when his worried fathers questioned after his health.

Was he getting enough sleep? (No.) When was the last time he’d had something to eat? (Did the granola bar he had earlier count?) Would he be willing to drink more water if Papa cut up some citrus to add? (Actually, that wasn’t a bad idea...)

He knew their fretting came from a place of love. As the youngest of three, he was the baby of the family. Both of his older sisters had married a few years ago, now living with their husbands in a couple of larger, nearby cities. They had told their parents the distant moves were for their husband’s jobs, but Virgil knew better. His sisters had never seemed to fit with the unique … energy of their small hometown.

Virgil, however, had yet to even move out, let alone find anyone who would want to spend the rest of their life with him. Thankfully, while his dads did want him to eventually find love, they were mostly just happy to support his dreams of becoming a famous designer.

Rolling his eyes, Virgil glanced around his cluttered studio. Like he would ever actually be a big name in the fashion industry. Yeah, sure, he wanted more than anything to get his designs out there for models of all backgrounds and appearances to showcase the beauty that was in every body type, but he didn’t want his first name attached to that kind of attention. Nope. No thanks. He would much rather people enjoy his work for what it was, not just because it came from him.

Maybe a pseudonym would work? Eh, he still had time to think about it anyway. It wasn’t like he was going to be traveling far from his studio in his dads’ basement any time soon after all. Picking up his phone, Virgil glanced at the time and cursed under his breath. Shit, he was late to meet up with Remy, and he had forgotten to plug his charger in. He groaned as he shoved his phone in his pocket anyway and grabbed his wallet, headphones, and house key. That drama queen was probably going to bitch and moan about being made to wait until Virgil finally agreed to pay for his drink. Not that Virgil really minded, but he had appearances to keep up.

With one last glance around to make sure he had everything, he dashed up the stairs to head out.

-----

Jogging down the street, Virgil turned past the Spirits’ Temple, where the town’s inhabitants left offerings to the spirits of the forest on the first of every month. Tradition claimed that each month was to be dedicated to one of the twelve local spirits who held dominion over different areas of day-to-day life, and that by honouring them, the town would prosper. At the height of the monthly festivals, there would be candles lining the marble steps, fake vines and string lights wrapped around the temple’s stone columns, and a wide spread of wine and honey-sweetened foods to be served. Some of this would be up for grabs on the buffet table, but a selection was always saved to be placed in one of the twelve bronze braziers, which one depended on the month, lining the sides of the temple. Each brazier was set in front of a stone statue carved with a symbol that denoted which spirit it belonged to.

At some point during the evening, everyone in town would take a moment to approach the massive fireplace along the back wall of the temple and toss in a part of their meal with a quietly murmured prayer for luck in some strange-sounding language. To this day, Virgil wasn’t sure what exactly he was saying, but his dad had taught him the correct pronunciation, and he was too superstitious not to follow through. Besides, it wasn’t like he could look too ridiculous doing it when literally everyone else was doing the same thing.

Approaching one of the two coffee shops in town, and the only one he ever frequented, Virgil shook his head to rid himself of thoughts of weird small-town rituals. Inside, it was easy to spot Remy sitting at their usual table with his sunglasses tucked into the front of his shirt and a drink already in hand. As he slid into his side of the booth, Virgil was surprised to see his favourite order (hot chocolate with whipped cream and rainbow sprinkles, and a slice of banana bread) already waiting for him.

“I was gonna apologize for being late, but clearly I don’t have to,” he said, glancing up and narrowing his eyes. “What did you do?”

Remy threw both hands up in a gesture of innocence. “Hey now, why did I have to do something wrong in order to surprise my best friend with his favourite goodies?”

Virgil snorted and crossed his arms, giving his friend a Look.

“Fine, fine!” Remy blew out a sigh and dropped his hands onto the table. “So, maybe I did do something, and maybe you’re gonna be a little mad at me for it, but I promise it’s okay! It’s gonna pay off and you’re totally going to thank me for this one day!”

Virgil dropped his face into his hands with a groan and dug the heels of his palms against his eyelids. “Just spit it out, Remy. What the fuck did you do?”

“Remember that photoshoot we did a couple weeks back with the latest ‘famous-one-day’ designs you sewed up?” Virgil could hear the familiar sounds of Remy typing on his phone. “Well babe, you’ve been making ‘one days’ for too long! So I decided to make ‘one day’ into ‘today’! Ta-dah!”

Bracing himself, Virgil peeked out from the dark safety of his hands, blinking a few times to clear his blurry vision and focus on the phone screen wavering in front of him. Right there, staring back at him from within Remy’s well-manicured clutch, was an email addressed to Penelope with attached photos from their shoot.

“Please, please tell me you didn’t sen-”

“I sent our pics to your favourite fashion label! The one and only Penelope! Known for their breathtaking lines like ‘Faith’ and ‘Fidelity’ that reimagined what it meant to be fashionable! And the best part!” Remy paused for dramatic effect, all but wiggling in his seat. “They emailed me back! They want to do an interview with you next month on the first!”

There was a loud thud as Virgil’s head met the table. If they hadn’t been sitting in public, he definitely would have started screaming too. Instead, all that came out was a muttered, “I fucking hate you. Why would you do this to me? You know I suck at talking to people; they’re gonna hate me and then tell all of the other companies to never work with me and then I’ll definitely never make it.”

A hand settled on top of his head and began to run through his hair, gently scratching at his scalp at the same time. “Don’t be so dramatic, Virge. This is gonna be great for you, I promise. When have I ever led you astray?”

Virgil glared at his friend and opened his mouth, but Remy cut him off.

“Ahp-ahp! Rhetorical question, babes. You're going to thank me for this, I promise.”

When Virgil remained silent, the hand that had been petting his hair slid down to cup his cheek and lift his chin up.

“Hey,” his best friend murmured softly. “If you really, really don’t want to do this, I can email them back and cancel, but I think you should go for it, Virge. This could be your big break!” Remy’s thumb had begun running a soothingly back and forth over his cheek. Virgil didn’t even try to hide the way he relaxed into the comforting gesture, leaning more weight into his friend’s palm. “I’ll even come with you to the interview, okay? I’ll be right there the entire time - gotta make sure they meet your number one model after all,” he added with a playful wink.

Damn Remy and his extroverted influence. Virgil sighed and sat up fully, reluctantly pulling away from the comforting hold and silently relieved when Remy’s hand dropped to link their fingers instead. “I guess as long as you’re there too, then I won’t be the only one making a fool of myself.”

“That’s the spirit!” Remy cheered, ignoring the looks some of the other patrons shot their way at the noise.

Keeping their hands interlocked, Virgil picked up his hot chocolate and took a sip of the sweet ambrosia as he listened to his best friend ramble about his plans for their future.

-----

Somehow, the word got out. Everyone and their cousin’s dog knew about Virgil’s interview and had seen some of the photos that had been leaked. All of them wanted to get a glimpse of not only the representatives of the big fashion label (who may as well have been celebrities to the small community), but also the unobtrusive young man who had brought the attention onto their town.

Virgil clung to Remy’s hand as they approached the café where the interview was going to be taking place. It wasn’t their usual haunt, something Virgil was grateful for; if things went south, he didn’t want that memory attached to one of his favourite places. People were already gathering outside, gossiping amongst themselves or attempting to peer through the front windows. He longed to pull his hood up and hide his face, but Papa had spent all morning helping him make sure his hair and make-up (and everything else) looked interview ready. Not to mention he wasn’t even wearing his favourite hoodie to tuck himself away into.

At Remy’s insistence, he had donned one of the outfits he made last year. The top was made of a flowy material, tighter at the wrists and loose in the arms, wrapping comfortably around his chest to tie in the front above his navel. It was sewn from a high-quality plum linen with a black lace webbing over top. For the bottom, Virgil had pieced together different shades of grey and black fabrics until he had a pair of loose patchwork pants that sat at the hips and left a strip of his stomach visible. He had completed the look with a fresh pair of high-tops that tied the look together despite the discordant styles. With one last look to his best friend for reassurance, Virgil nodded and they waded through the crowd together, on their way to their future.

-----

Singing to herself, Roman stepped through the woods with all the ethereal grace granted to her by her station. As she made her way to the quaint little human town, Roman was accompanied by a pair of mourning doves. While one had alighted on her shoulder, the other fluttered about, and both were cooing in harmony with her otherworldly song.

Her body was draped in a sheer chiffon number, as blood-red as the wine she drank from each year at the celebration of her power and beauty. It was naught much more than a thin layer of fabric over one shoulder and wrapped about her shapely waist, exposing one breast and leaving little work for the imagination on the rest of her body. The finest embroidery coloured the lower hem with twisting rose vines, as if they had sprung from the ground she walked on and reached up for her attention. Her hair was left to tumble free, as wild and untamed as the waves she had been born from so long ago. The Lady of the Summer Court had arrived.

In no time at all, the temple the humans of the village had built for her and her compatriots so long ago came into view. Roman hurried her steps, eager to feast on the delightful offerings she knew would be awaiting her. She hoped one of them left pomegranate; it was her favourite. The plump fruit so easy to tear open to reveal the juicy flesh inside - and the crunchy seeds! Oh!

Grinning, Roman moved around the side of the temple, stepping between the columns to slip inside and make her way towards her ceremonial statue along the right with the other ruling gentry of the Seelie Court. However, when she got close enough to see into the massive dish, indignation began to boil in her blood. Before her, in her brazier, lay half as many offerings as were given to her in the years passed. She looked around, hoping to find something else had been set aside or misplaced, but there was nothing. Seething, she spun on her heel and stalked towards the front of the temple in search of answers.

Outside, two attendants were working to douse the remaining candles to be collected on the morrow after Roman had departed. Well, they were certainly going to be in for a surprise when they returned to find their pitiful offerings still there in the morning. Even with the great distance between them, as a fae, Roman’s sharp ears did not struggle to overhear the conversation between the two humans.

“-believe something like this could happen in our little town,” the one on the right was saying. “Especially from that quiet kid! What’d you say his name was again?”

“He’s the Psykhe’s youngest boy, Virgil.

“No kidding! Sam was telling me the kid showed up for the interview wearing this wild statement piece, like a full fashion runway. I bet his dads sure are proud. I heard half the town was outside Burnsen’s hoping to get a front-row seat. They certainly weren’t here, that’s for sure.”

“Damn shame,” the second human agreed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen a turn out this small for a Spirit’s Night. I just hope it doesn’t come back to bite us in the ass.”

The pair continued their gossip as they finished with the candles and moved onto tidying some of the other nonessential decorations. Roman wasn’t interested in listening any further; she had what she needed. Turning away from the pitiful little temple those putrid humans had so desecrated on her day of honour, the Lady of the Summer Court stormed back into the forest, seething vitriol.

“How dare these humans offer this worthless boy the worship and reverence meant for me! My status is all but set in the very stars and they do nothing more than drag it through the muddy earth!” She screeched, scaring away the doves who had been lingering nearby. “So much for me, the ancient mother of this forest who feeds and fosters the very nature of this place! If nothing lusts, then nothing reproduces! Did they ever consider that before they forced me to associate my status with a mere mortal child?”

As Roman cried out, the very trees parted for her, leaning their trunks away and raising their boughs out of the path of the furious fae. She paid them little heed as she marched down a trail long familiar. “Won’t this boy, whoever he is, be glad to know he has claimed the honours that are due to me by right? Not for much longer, this I swear by my very name! He will regret this beauty to which he has no claim!”

At the climax of her tirade, Roman stopped before the ivy-woven doors of her son’s lofty domain. She would teach this Virgil what happened when you scorned the fae.

-----

Across town, still wearing the outfit and makeup from earlier, though much disheveled, Virgil ran as if his life depended on it. At this point, though, his life may as well have been over, so what was the point in struggling on? Down the street and through the park, he sprinted until he could go no further and crumbled to the ground at the top of the large hill that overlooked the fish ponds. On his hands and knees, he clutched at the damp earth and panted heavily through his heaving sobs.

It was over. Penelope didn’t want to pick him up as a designer. Sure, they liked the selection that Remy had sent them, enough to come talk to him about it, but when the representatives had taken a look through the rest of his portfolio? They hadn’t said they hated it outright, but Virgil was certain his designs were too gothic, too dark, too risky for mainstream fashion. They were going to talk with some of the higher-ups back at the designer studio, but Virgil wasn’t going to be holding his breath. He’d seen their expressions clear as day while they flipped through his work.

Collapsing forward, Virgil buried his face into the crook of his elbow and curled his knees towards his chest, sobbing even harder. He had told Remy after the interview that he needed some space, but now that he was out here alone, he wanted nothing more than a hug from his best friend. Fuck, how was he going to tell his dads about this? It would break their heart!

Virgil shook his head free of the thought; he couldn’t handle any more right now. So he lay on the ground with his cheek pressed against the cool night grass, and cried until he passed out from exhaustion.

-----

In the twilight between wakefulness and sleep, Virgil stirred when he felt a pair of arms slide under his body and hoist him up into a strong hold. His head lolled to the side until his temple dropped against a firm body. Then, a kiss was pressed to his forehead, tickling his skin with...a mustache?

“Go back to sleep, little human,” a high, scratchy-sounding voice said. “Jay doesn’t want you to see anything just yet! We don’t want to ruin the surprise, eh?”

Virgil’s face scrunched in confusion, but before he could crack his eyes open to see who was carrying him, a warm breath blew across his face and carried him off to his dreams like a gentle breeze spiraling high into the air.

-----

When Virgil woke for the second time, it was with far more peace and tranquility than he usually felt when greeting the day. His bed was extra soft and luxurious beneath the swell of his hip and he was comfortably warm, though he couldn’t feel the usual weight of his blanket. Stretching his arms far above his head, Virgil suddenly snapped his eyes open when his fingertips were greeted not with the hard wall behind his headboard, but with a damp, spongy texture instead.

Scrambled to his feet, he looked around to discover he was at the edge of a clearing, carpeted with a thick moss that his feet sank slightly into and surrounded by trees who towered so far above him their canopies seemed lost secrets of the sky. To one side a stream babbled a song, its waters bright as day and clear as glass. Breathless, he turned a slow circle, feasting on the seemingly supernatural wonders with starving eyes. The sight that greeted Virgil as he turned full around, however, could have subsisted him for a lifetime.

At the very heart of the grove, sitting in its focal point, rose what he could only describe as a palace. The trees which made up its supporting columns were an ivory birch, though much wider than any Virgil had ever seen, with leaves seemingly grown from pure gold that glittered in the dappled sunlight they let through. Framed by these otherworldly goliaths, ivy vines had been woven together to form a grand door which opened of its own accord and bid Virgil to enter. Under a spell spun from his own awe and curiosity (and probably some of whatever magic this place had to be made of), Virgil strode forward.

Inside, the palace seemed to emulate its own light, reflecting off the vaulted ceiling and highlighting the polished stone walls decorated with endless silver reliefs of animals real and imagined. Virgil trailed his fingertips along the slithering spine of a snake as he passed, admiring the lifelike detail in each scale, but before he could venture much further, a voice spoke.

“Welcome.”

Virgil jumped, spinning around to search for the source of the voice, but no one was there. When they spoke again, it sounded like they were right over his shoulder.

“You have been invited into the home of the fae as a guest of honour, Virgil.” The man in question felt a strange twinge in his chest hearing his name from the voice. “If you follow the doors to your left, you will find a dining hall in which you may eat your fill; the foods are from your home world and you need not fear consuming them. To your right lay the bathing and bed chambers. Please, make yourself at home. You are safe here, my darling.”

“Who are you? How do you know my name?” Virgil called out into the empty room.

There was a small pause before the voice replied. “You may call me Janus for the time being. It matters not how I know your name, but you need not worry that I will give it to anyone else.”

“Not creepy at all,” Virgil murmured before raising his voice once more. “Where are you? Why can’t I see you?”

“Ahh, my darling, take care with your curiosity before it gets you into trouble. Fret not, I am here with you, though you cannot see me. I know it is hard, but you must trust in me, my love. I shall visit you this evening after the light of day has given way to the dark of night. So long as you promise not to look upon my face and let me remain shrouded in shadows, then I shall answer more of your questions then.”

“What? I’m supposed to trust you, but I’m not allowed to look at your face? What the fuck, dude?”

“I understand this may be a cause for alarm, but you must understand my perspective, dear one. If you were to gaze upon me uninhibited, I fear you would not fall in love with me in a manner which would be best for us both. Promise to me, Virgil.”

“Okay, okay, I promise. Why is this so important to you anyway?”

“Thank you. I wish to form a genuine bond with you, beloved, and I cannot do that if you are influenced by my appearance. That is not how I desire to court my future husband.”

“Husband? What do you mean future husband!?”

Virgil stood in place, waiting for any further response from the invisible person, but it seemed his host had vanished into the very air he spoke from. Blowing out a heavy sigh, Virgil looked from left to right and decided the faint grumbling in his abdomen was something he could ignore for the time being; he probably wouldn’t be able to stomach anything right now anyway. So, he made his way towards the baths, hoping a splash of cool water could wake him from this crazy dream.

Unfortunately, even after dunking his head under the cool water, Virgil was still stuck in the extravagant palace with an invisible host. He braced his hands on the sides of the stone bowl carved from the wall, staring blankly at the trickling waterfall that fed into the dish he had rinsed in. How the fuck did he get into this mess? The voice had mentioned something about this place belonging to the fae? What the fuck? There’s no way any of this could be real. Well, that Janus had said he would answer Virgil’s questions tonight, so there seemed little more he could do than wait.

The bedroom he had been given was grand, far larger than even his entire basement suite back home, and all of its drapings were more luxurious than Virgil had ever seen. He ran his fingers down the curtains that hung from the bedposts, marvelling at the quality and the depth of the colour. What he wouldn’t give to be able to create with fabrics of this pedigree. He fiddled with the tie of his shirt around his middle and settled onto one of the plush armchairs by the window. Now, to wait.

-----

Hours later, Virgil was startled awake from a light doze by the sound of footsteps approaching his door. He scrambled to his feet, keeping one hand braced on a bedpost to orient himself as he squinted through the darkness. It was so dark he couldn’t even make out the vague outlines of the furniture around the room.

The door opened.

Virgil tensed, gripping the bedpost tighter and raising his other arm in front of him defensively. From what he could see, backlit from the hall, the figure entering the room was about his height, maybe a little taller. It was difficult to make out in the dark, but the shadow he cast onto the floor seemed to be larger than his body mass would produce. The door closed, leaving the two of them alone in the dark.

“Janus?” Virgil asked nervously, hoping there wasn’t anyone else in the palace who would be coming into his room this late at night.

“Breathe, Virgil, it is only me.”

It was as if a spell of calm soothed over him, easing the tension from around his neck and within his chest. Virgil took a deep, relieving breath. Janus hadn’t come any further into the room, seemingly content to linger by the door.

“Um… hi?” Virgil winced at how awkward he sounded, but continued on regardless. “You said you would answer more of my questions, right?”

“That is correct, beloved. I will tell you as much as I am able to at this time.” There was the sound of shuffling in the dark. “May I join you on the bed? I think we will both be much more comfortable being seated for this conversation.”

Virgil bit his lip, looking between the bed and Janus despite not being able to see either. Eventually, he nodded, and then blushed when he realized what he’d done.

“Yeah… yeah, you can come sit over here, I guess.”

“Thank you, my darling.”

When the pair had gotten settled, Janus was seated at the foot of the bed, leaning up against the bedpost and seemingly unbothered by the strange situation. Virgil, on the other hand, had his back pressed against the headboard with his knees hugged to his chest. His feet were buried in the blankets and he was absently scrunching the soft material under his toes in a comforting, rhythmic motion. It was Janus who broke the silence first.

“What would you ask of me first, dearest?”

Virgil blew out a sigh. “Why did you bring me here? What are you going to do with me? Am I ever going to be allowed to go home? Will you-”

"Sh sh sh,” Janus crooned, “One at a time, beloved, all will be answered. In short, I do not know when you will be able to return to your home, or if you ever will, but it is for your own good!” Janus hurriedly added before Virgil could panic. “You see, there is someone very powerful who is very angry with you. Intentionally or not, you have caused her a great disrespect, and she will not rest until her dues have been met.”

“How do you know all of this?”

Janus sighed. “Because she is my mother, and she sent me to kill you.”

“What!?” Virgil screeched, throwing himself off the bed and slamming against the nearby wall. His nails scrabbled at the stone, desperate to clutch, claw, escape. No, no, no, he didn’t want to die! He snapped his head back and forth, searching for any sort of way out, but he was blinded by shadows and fear. A sharp cry escaped him when a hand suddenly wrapped around one of his own and he whimpered as it squeezed, expecting pain. Instead, a gentle crooning cut through the ringing in his ears.

“Breathe, Virgil, you are not in danger. You must calm down and listen.”

Janus’ voice was surprisingly tender for how powerfully it could be heard through Virgil’s panic. He was able to focus on it like a tether to pull himself into a more relaxed state of mind. At some point, he had begun to time his breathing with Janus’ as well, steady and even to a count known only to the fae holding him. When Virgil had relaxed enough to come back to himself, he tensed all over again, waiting for the other shoe to drop.

“How can you say I’m safe, when you’re gonna kill me?”

“Because I have no intentions of killing you,” Janus replied, now cradling both of Virgil’s hands to his chest. Even this close, the darkness was so impenetrably thick that Virgil had no hope of glimpsing his face. He kept his eyes averted regardless. “I brought you here to remove you from my mother’s gaze and conceal you from her misplaced wrath.”

Virgil was silent, processing, as Janus gently tugged on his hands and guided him back onto the bed. There, the fae leaned against the headboard with his legs stretched out in front of him and carefully pulled Virgil to recline on his chest. Virgil resisted for only a moment before complying. Everything else about this was already way out of his depth to manage, he may as well allow himself to be comfortable wherever he could. Janus was either going to kill him or leave him alive, and there likely wasn’t anything Virgil could do to sway that decision at this point. So, Virgil settled himself against Janus’ chest with his body laying between Janus’ legs and stretching out until their legs tangled together. He was grateful now for the dark that hid a probably searing blush as his cheek pressed flush against the fae’s warm skin; Janus wasn’t wearing a shirt and his nude torso was warm to cuddle against.

“Now,” Janus murmured, shifting Virgil’s focus from his embarrassment to the situation at hand. His fingers ran over Virgil’s scalp and through his hair, carefully brushing out any tangles and soothing in the same motion. “If you will let me continue, I was going to say my mother had ordered for you to be killed, however, I do not agree with her decision. She is acting rashly over a slight you did not directly commit.”

“What did I even do to piss her off so bad?” Virgil murmured from where his face was tucked against Janus’ collar, resting more of his weight closer with each breath.

“I do not know the exact details, only that you were the cause for drawing her worshippers away from the temple on her day of adulation. The fae do not take kindly to being stolen from, especially not my mother.”

“The interview,” Virgil breathed in horror. Pushing himself upright, he clutched at Janus’ arm. “I swear, I didn’t mean for everyone to skip out on the Spirit’s Festival! If it had been up to me, none of them would have even been at the cafe! I didn’t want them there, you have to believe me!”

“Calm yourself, beloved. I believe that you did not intentionally act to anger her. However, you must understand that even a perceived slight is considered very real and serious to the fae. That is why you must remain here under my protection, until my mother’s ire cools or I can convince her to redirect her anger.”

As Janus fell silent, Virgil curled in again and pondered what he had been told, trying to remember anything he could about the fae. It wasn’t like there was one consistent guidebook he could follow, but some of the stories the older people used to tell his grade school classes at the library were starting to make a little more sense now. He had been told the forest couldn’t lie, so maybe that meant the fae were bound by the truth? A stretch, sure, but weren’t all myths rooted somehow in reality? They were also regularly told that the spirits of the forest loved beauty, especially in the form of attractive people, and could bestow gifts on those they enjoyed looking upon. Virgil had always felt so disheartened hearing that. He wasn’t anything special, just a plain-looking boy, so the forest would never favour him.

Why then had Janus?

“So,” Virgil broke into the quiet, “you supposedly brought me here to protect me from your mother, but that doesn’t explain why you called me your future husband earlier.”

Janus hummed. “When I set out to observe the human who had offended my mother, I was prepared to be faced with a disgusting example of your kind. What I found instead was the most beautiful face I had ever laid eyes on.” Virgil gasped when the hand that had been in his hair slipped down to cup his cheek and tilt his chin up. He felt a pair of lips brush so lightly against his forehead that he thought he imagined it. “You were sobbing so hard for a deeply rooted pain. I found myself desiring nothing more than to stop your tears and see how much your already breathtaking countenance would shine when lit by a smile.”

“I - you -”

Virgil was sure that he had been kissed before, because now he felt those lips curl into a smile.

“Is it so hard to believe you are so attractive?”

“Well, yeah,” Virgil huffed, his eyes closed as he leaned into Janus’ palm. “It’s not like I heard it all that often.”

“Mmm, I shall have to change that, then,” Janus whispered, resting his cheek on Virgil’s head, cradling him close once more. “Do you have any more questions, beloved? If not, it is time for you to rest, you’ve had a long day.”

The gentle petting and warm embrace were taking their toll on Virgil’s exhausted mind. He let himself rest heavily on Janus, nuzzling his face into the crook of his neck and wrapping an arm around the fae’s chest. “Jus’ one,” he murmured, voice already dipping into that sleepy slur. “Wanna make sure m’dads know ‘m safe…”

“I’ll see what I can do, my love. Rest now, Virgil.”

Like a spell had been cast over him, Virgil drifted off to a dreamless sleep.

-----

When Virgil had awoken, he was alone in the massive bed. He was surprised to feel a twinge of disappointment in his chest, having hoped Janus would stay despite the fae not wanting to show his face. Sighing, he slid out of bed and got himself ready for the day, slipping into some comfortable clothes he found in a set of drawers. When he came down for breakfast, his host’s invisible voice greeted him and informed him that his dads had been told of the situation and were relieved Virgil was alive and relatively safe.

The next few days played out much the same. Virgil was left to his own devices during the day, waited on by some sort of invisible staff as he explored the palace. He never saw another soul, but whenever he needed something, he learned to simply call out for it and it would be delivered to him by magic.

Each night, Janus would arrive in his bedroom once the sun had disappeared. He never asked for more than Virgil was willing to give, but Virgil found himself cuddled close every night without fail. They would speak for hours - about Virgil’s dreams, his dads, and Remy - nothing was too simple for Janus to inquire about. The fae was fascinated by every aspect of human life, and Virgil enjoyed discovering a sense of romantic joy over the little things he had experienced. There was something about Janus that soothed away the ever-present worries that were always yelling inside Virgil’s head.

There was one worry that couldn’t be silenced, however. No matter how much Virgil was coming to trust his protector, he could not ignore the fact that he had no idea what Janus even looked like. It was eating away at him not to know, and the longer he sat alone, the Janus in his head looked more and more like a monster waiting to prey upon him. This couldn’t go on. He had to know.

-----

During the day before he was going to enact his plan, Virgil spent his time in the massive library he had discovered on the second day, scanning the shelves and making a show of selecting a couple books. He made himself comfortable in one of the oversized cushions piled near the floor-to-ceiling window and pretended to read. Between absently scanning the pages, Virgil looked up and glanced around the room, as if his mind were wandering with the tale he was apparently focused on. In reality, he was scouring the room for ideas.

Countless candles were lit around the library, their wax melting at different stages, some newly pooling while others formed thick layers around the base of the candelabras. They were lit now, but there was no way for him to have an already burning flame in the bedroom when Janus arrived for the night. He would have to find some way to light one on his own. Maybe he could just -

“Excuse me?” He called into the air. “Could I please have more candles, and some matches for them? I want to go read in my room, but, um, the smell is really nice in here.”

Like always, the items he requested popped into existence on a low table nearby: three candles and a pair of matches. Huh, he hadn’t actually thought that was going to work.

“Thank you!”

Hugging both books to his chest, Virgil collected his new tools and jogged up to his room. There, he placed the candles onto the small table between the armchairs and lit them with a match. The second match, he carefully tucked inside the front knot of his shirt, pressing against his breast. Now prepared, he settled in to actually focus on the novel he had picked up. There was nothing but time to kill.

-----

By the time Janus arrived, Virgil had already blown out the candles and crawled into bed. He cuddled in as soon as Janus had laid down, laying his head on the fae’s chest and trying to keep his breathing steady as they fell into their usually nighttime conversation. Janus’ claws delicately traced the bumps of his spine the entire time they spoke.

Once Virgil was sure Janus had fallen asleep, he began the slow process of extracting himself from the fae’s embrace. Janus really was a cuddler, and loved to hold Virgil close while they slept, but thankfully he was also quite a deep sleeper. Virgil was able to carefully pull himself away and tuck a pillow into Janus’ arms. The fae squished it to his chest and curled onto his side, none the wiser.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Virgil went to work. He grabbed one of the candles and fished the match out from under his shirt, striking it against the table to light it. One hand held onto the base of the candle, while the other carefully cupped around the flame, protecting it as Virgil walked around to the other side of the bed where Janus lay. With a deep breath to steady himself, he pulled his hand away and gasped at the sight in front of him.

Janus never wore a shirt, which meant Virgil’s hands had felt the broad expanse of his naked back every night they had slept together. That didn’t explain why there were now a pair of gorgeous, tawny wings sprouting from between Janus’ shoulder blades. The feathers looked softer than anything Virgil could imagine and shined like spun gold in the candlelight. Virgil ached to caress the speckled feathers, to scrunch his fingers in the fluffy down near the wings’ base, but as he reached out, Janus rolled over and Virgil’s breath was punched from his lungs. The face of his protector was carved by the gods. Janus’ skin was a rich, dark brown, reflecting the candle light to accent his strong jaw and sharp cheekbones. Virgil could only imagine what colour his eyes could be behind his lids, framed by perfectly shaped brows and a shapely nose. Oh! Those lips! So plump and full! What would they feel like pressed against his own?

Enraptured, Virgil tried to get a better look, but as he leaned forward, some of the melted wax from the candle spilled over and landed on Janus’ cheek. The fae yelped, startling awake and clutching at his face as he threw himself upright. Virgil jumped back in shock, falling on his ass while somehow keeping the candle lit. The clatter drew Janus’ attention and his head snapped to the side to look at Virgil, who saw the moment Janus’ eyes widened with understanding and heartbreaking betrayal.

“You promised!” Janus hissed. “You promised me you wouldn’t look! Does your word mean so little to you!?”

“N-No - I, I just, I wanted-”

“What!? What was so important that you had to break your promise?”

“I wanted to, to make sure you weren’t some sort of … monster … who had kidnapped me to… to eat me,” Virgil muttered, suddenly feeling incredibly foolish. Why did he have to give in to his anxieties so easily? The next moment, his heart crumpled with Janus’ expression.

“Get out.”

“Wait, what?”

“I said. Get. Out.” Janus growled, spreading his wings high above his head as he leaned over the edge of the bed. “Get out of my sight, and out of my home! If you cannot hold to one simple promise, then I will not protect you! You can deal with my mother’s wrath on your own!”

About to protest, Virgil cried out in fear as Janus slashed out him, narrowly missing his face with those lethal claws. He didn’t waste any more time, dropping the candle and scrambling to his feet to run out of the bedroom. The empty halls echoed with his laboured breathing and the slap of his bare feet against the tiled floor as he sprinted through the palace and out the ivy-woven doors. The moment he was out, the doors slammed shut behind him.

Panting heavily, Virgil bent over with his hands on his knees, his entire body trembling from fear and exertion. He dropped to the ground and clutched his head in both hands, curling smaller and crying as silently as he could muster. It was a long time before his breathing evened out and he was able to drag himself back to his feet.

A glance around the clearing revealed what he had known upon his first arrival: he had no idea where in the forest he was, or which way led back home. So, he did the only thing he could and picked a direction to start walking. Through the night he stumbled over roots and around tangled shrubs, not stopping until he finally tripped over his own exhausted feet and fell into the shockingly cold waters of a stream. He spluttered and gasped, miserably dragging himself back up the bank. The sun was rising overhead, the forest waking up around him; he didn’t have the time to huddle here in a ball feeling sorry for himself.

-----

As the day progressed, Virgil noticed the trees beginning to thin and the gaps between the trunks growing wider. Suddenly, the canopy overhead parted to reveal a mountain, vast and tall, that should have been visible long before this moment. Placed at irregular intervals up the cliffside were six palaces woven of different plants woven together with even more grandeur than Janus’ home. Over the edge of the mountain, the tips and edges of presumably more palaces - these ones sculpted and shaped from various stones - were visible against the pale sky.

Virgil squinted, trying to get a better look at the strangely familiar shapes carved into the rock face near each palace. He gasped. The symbols matched those carved into the statues above the bronze dishes in the Spirit’s Temple, more specifically, the dishes meant for the spirits honoured in the spring and summer. That would mean - there! On the left! Beneath a palace of myrtle trees and rose vines, was the symbol belonging to the seventh spirit. That had to be the home of Janus’ mother, the spirit - or fae, rather - who was supposed to have been honoured at the start of this month.

Biting his lip, Virgil looked back the way he came then up at the palace once more. If what Janus said was true, and he wasn’t going to be offering protection anymore, then Virgil would have to face her on his own. It was either that, or cowering away until she tracked him down and killed him. Also not a desirable option, but Virgil would rather have some form of control over the end of his life. Beginning to climb, he just wished he would have been able to say goodbye to his dads first.

While there were worn deer trails to follow, the journey was not an easy one. Virgil had to cling to the rocks, heaving himself ever upwards, trying not to slice his bare feet or palms on the uneven shale. The summer sun climbed alongside him, growing hotter and hotter, sapping his energy and strength. Still, he pushed on until he stood before the lush gates shaking with exhaustion and dizzy from the heat.

Before he could gather his wits, the thorny vines that sealed the palace from the outside world began to withdraw. Where they parted, massive sanguine roses bloomed, as if to cushion a passerby from the sharp thorns. From within the depths of the palace strode out a figure so radiant and commanding, Virgil immediately felt subservient to her will. He quickly looked away, cheeks hot, as both of her breasts were exposed and only a lightweight wrap covered her lower body. His body recoiled when her piercing laugh broke the silence.

“Finally! The wretched beast comes crawling to its master, the Lady of the Summer Court. Had enough of playing at royalty, have you? Look at me when I’m talking to you, Virgil!”

Virgil immediately snapped his head back towards her, paling when his eyes met with her seething ire, but unable to drop his gaze any lower. He gripped the sides of his pants with white knuckles. “I - I’m so, so sorry! I n-never meant-”

“Look at this!” The fae cut in, causing Virgil to flinch again. “The pathetic mortal trying to inspire pity from me with your anxiety and melancholy! I will not be made a fool and relegated to some cheap handmaiden!”

With a shriek of rage, the Lady of Summer darted forward faster than Virgil’s eyes could track. The next moment, he was sprawled on the ground, ears ringing. He brought a shaky hand up to his stinging cheek and felt his stomach drop when his fingertips came away bloody. Rolling onto his back, he choked. The Lady was looming over him, one of her hands dripping with his blood as she pinned him down with a foot on his chest.

“It seems only fair to me, mortal, that I give you some chance to win back my good graces. Therefore, you shall complete a task for me, or else I will take your life as compensation for your disrespect.” The Lady of Summer announced with a wave of her hand. Virgil looked to the side, wincing as the cuts in his cheek dug into the gravel, and watched in surprise as a pile of mixed grains appeared nearby.

“You will sort this mass and disarray of seeds - wheat, barley, millet, poppy, chickpea, and lentil - into individual piles. I will know if a single grain lays with the wrong group. You have until this evening.” With that, the Lady of Summer kicked off his ribs and spun her skirts, vanishing into thin air with a flourish and leaving only the heady scent of roses as a sign of her presence.

Virgil lay on the ground in silence for a long time after she disappeared, barely daring to breathe. When he was finally able to bring himself to move, he slowly rolled onto his hands and knees, hissing at the pain in his ribs - definitely bruised. Crawling over to the pile of seeds, he reached a hand out but hesitated before he could touch the tiny grains. How the fuck was he supposed to sort these? He could hardly begin to tell them apart! Sitting back on his ass, Virgil dropped his face into his hands and burst into tears.

Then, he heard a high-pitched giggle.

Flitting to-and-fro above him were four - five - eight, no - seven? Seven little pixies were spinning, twirling, dancing through the air above him. Their bright, insect-like wings caught the sunlight and sent out flashes of colour like a rainbow in motion. One-by-one they drifted to the ground, settling in a half circle in front of Virgil and his miserable collection of seeds. They stood only several inches tall and were dressed in leaves and petals. A pair stepped forward in front of the rest; they were holding hands.

“Hello, hello!” The one on the right chirped, waving up with his free hand. He had gorgeous light blue butterfly wings that fluttered when he spoke. “We heard you crying and came to see, to see! What happened here, here?”

Virgil sniffled, wiping away his tears and snot on his sleeve. “Well, um,” he hiccupped and took a deep breath. “It’s the Lady of the Summer Court. She wants me to sort all of these seeds by type before tonight, but I have no idea how I’m going to do that so she’s definitely going to kill me!” He slapped a hand over his mouth to muffle a sob, tears running down his face.

“Easy now,” a new voice murmured as two little hands pressed against his knee. Virgil blinked his eyes open to see the second pixie - this one with veiny wings like a beetle’s - rubbing his leg soothingly. “You need to take slow, deep breaths to calm yourself.”

Virgil nodded and attempted to follow suit, counting to four on each inhale and exhale until the tears had slowed and he was able to relax somewhat to continue the conversation. “Th-thank you, um, what are your names?”

“You can call me Pat, Pat!” The first pixie announced twirling himself up into the air and drifting back down again.

“Ah, so you are quite new around here,” the second pixie mused, keeping his hands on Virgil’s leg. “You may call me Lo. Names have great power to the fae and it is imperative that you do not give yours away lightly, else someone may have complete control over your will.”

“But the Lady of the Summer Court already knows my name, and so did Jan- her son.”

“At any point did you give it to them, though?”

Virgil thought back over the last few weeks. “No… no, they both just, sorta, knew it somehow. Oh, uh, I guess you can call me Vee, then?”

Lo nodded. “Then it is likely they only heard your name somewhere, but they do not own it. Do you understand? They can exert some measure of power over you, but they cannot remove your free will entirely. Now then. Why is it the Lady wants you dead?” The pixie offered a small smile, nodding his head as Virgil explained how he got into this situation, that he knew Janus (though he referred to him as Jay), and why he wasn’t with the other fae anymore. When he finished, it was Pat who puffed up angrily.

“The Lady has gone too far, too far! You didn’t mean to make those people leave, leave! And it sounds like you didn’t actually make a binding promise, so Jay is acting a bit silly, bit silly. So, we’re gonna help you sort these seeds, and get everything cleared up, up!”

Logan nodded in agreement. “Indeed. Pat, you stay here with the others to aid Vee. I am going to go have a word with our feathered friend.” With that, Lo leaned in, kissed Pat’s cheek, and flew off down the mountainside.

Virgil watched the glint of Lo’s wings until he was out of sight, then turned back to the remaining pixies to watch as their quick, tiny hands got to work on the grains. “So… how do you know Jay?

Pat grinned widely up at him. “Jay is one of the Princes of Spring, Spring!” He works with love magic, and helped Lo and I get together decades ago in exchange for our help weaving that pretty gate in front of his palace, his palace!”

While they continued to converse, the pixies worked away at the seeds to form six unique piles, sorted from darkest to lightest. Before long, the entire jumbled mass had been reorganized without a single seed out of place. Once their job was complete, the five other pixies twittered their goodbyes and flew off up the mountain. Only Pat remained, sitting on his knee and chattering away as the sun set. Virgil shivered as a chill breeze licked at his exposed skin.

A sudden snap rent the night air, spooking Virgil, who lurched forward to cradle Pat in his hands protectively. Looking over his shoulder, he felt like vomiting when he saw the Lady of Summer standing over the grain piles with her arms crossed. He internally thanked any of the spirits who may be on his side that her chest was covered this time.

“This is not your work,” she hissed. “These were not organized by your hand, but by his!” She pointed an accusing finger at Pat, who had been peeking around Virgil’s arm but quickly hid back against his chest at the attention. “How dare you attempt to deceive me, you cretin!”

With a wordless shriek, the Lady lashed out with her vicious claws, aiming for the unmarked side of Virgil’s face. He scrambled back on his hands and heels, his ass dragging on the ground while Pat clung to the front of his shirt. Before she could take a second swipe, however, the dust and grit kicked up around them, obscuring their vision.

With his eyes covered, Virgil could only hear the flapping of large wings that cut off before there was the thud of a body dropping in front of him. Opening his eyes, he gasped. There, with his back to Virgil, stood Janus, with his great wings spread wide and his claws flexed at his sides. Lo, who had been holding onto the fae’s shoulder, now zipped down to the pair on the ground, holding Pat close and ensuring he was unharmed while the pixies huddled together on Virgil’s lap.

“You will not lay another hand on him,” Janus hissed, standing over Virgil protectively. Virgil felt Pat grip his thumb, but he couldn’t look away from the pair above them.

“What are you doing? Get out of the way, my son.”

“No. You wanted your revenge on him, and you got it. Look at him; he’s terrified, injured, and exhausted. The original disrespect against you was not even intentionally caused by him; it was the doing of numerous others. I do not fault you for your affront, but you are carrying on like a tantruming toddler!”

The Lady of Summer took a step back and clutched at her bosom. “You dare to speak to me like that?”

“I do, and so does the rest of the Seelie Court.” Virgil watched as Janus rolled his shoulders back and stood straighter. The Prince of Spring then reached into a bag tied at his hip and pulled out some sort of wooden charm dangling from a hemp rope. At the sight of it the Lady of Summer gasped and covered her mouth. “I have spoken before the Queen and her retinue, and she has decreed you will leave this mortal alone. In exchange, he will return to his town and gather a proper celebration for you by the end of this month.”

Virgil held his breath, not daring to twitch a muscle as he awaited his fate. The Lady of Summer let nothing show in her expression, but the hard lines of her face had softened attractively as Janus spoke. She shifted, looking over Janus shoulder and directly at Virgil. “You. You will do as this deal demands?”

Nodding rapidly, Virgil held up his hand in oath. “I will, I promise. I’ll go back home and speak with the curator of the Spirit’s Temple. We’ll host another festival and you’ll get the offerings you were supposed to be given at the start of the month.”

As if a switch had been flipped, the Lady of the Summer Court beamed a smile and grasped her hands over her heart. “Well then! That wasn’t so hard, was it! My dear, smart son, finding a way to set things right. I’m so proud of you, my little songbird.” Looking at her son, she cooed and cupped Janus’ cheek to tilt him up to kiss his forehead, smiling at his grumbling. “I won’t linger much longer, don’t you worry. I wouldn’t want to embarrass you in front of my future son-in-law after all! I’ll see you soon, Virgil, dear,” she called, a cool edge to her voice for a moment before she smiled brightly once more and waggled her fingers. With a dramatic wave of her hands, the Lady of Summer vanished once more.

A quiet settled over the remaining quartet, broken by a tinny clearing of a throat. Lo stood in Virgil’s lap, tugging Pat up next to him. “I believe it is time for us to depart as well. I am relieved we were able to arrive in time to prevent any harm coming to you, Vee.” The pixie looked from Janus to Virgil and smiled. “Let us know when you are in the woods, we would enjoy visiting under more ideal circumstances. Farewell, for now.”

“Goodbye, Vee, Vee!”

In a flash, the pair of pixies flew off into the night, their hands held tight together. They flew loops and circles over the others before darting off in the direction the other pixies had traveled hours ago.

On the ground, Janus helped Virgil to his feet. He cooed in sympathy, tenderly touching the tips of his fingers beneath the angry red cuts on Virgil’s cheek. “I am so sorry for what she has done to you, darling. And I am even more sorry that my own actions drove you from the safety of my side. I was meant to protect you from unearned rage, but instead I subjected you to further punishment and drove you towards your would-be killer. If I hadn’t gotten here in time-” Janus exhaled heavily, his wings sagging behind him. “I am so sorry, Virgil.”

“I mean, I’m not gonna say it’s okay, because none of this has been okay, but, I guess I can understand where you were coming from. If I were as attractive as you, I’d also be worried about people taking advantage of me.” Virgil blushed and dragged his big toe through the dirt. “So, yeah, I forgive you, or whatever.” He looked up with a fire in his eyes and jabbed his finger into the center of Janus’ chest. “But don’t you ever do that again, you hear me?”

Janus hands cupped around his own, cradling it close. “I swear, to the end of my days, I will treat you with the dignity and respect you deserve, my dearest.”

Despite the tenderness of the gesture, Virgil was unmoved. “I mean it, Janus. If you want us to work out, then I can’t be afraid that you’re going to banish me from your home every time you get upset. It’s not a relationship if you’re going to treat me like I’m disposable. I’m worth more than that. If you want more reassurance, or something, on my promises, then we can work something out, but what you put me through was terrifying, and I can’t go through it again. I won’t.”

Janus sighed, holding Virgil’s hands up to his lips and resting there a moment before slowly gathering Virgil into his arms. His embrace was loose enough to break, if Virgil wanted. “I understand, darling, and I will never be able to apologize enough for what I have done. However, it is not my words you want, but my actions, and I will do whatever you desire of me in order to make it up to you.” He cupped Virgil’s uninjured cheek. “I want us to work, too.”

There was a long pause as Virgil searched Janus’ golden eyes for any signs of deception. When he found only an earnest honesty, Virgil allowed himself to be held closer. He wasn’t sure which of them moved next, but they came together as one, lips pressing softly at first before quickly gaining heat. Then he was spun and dipped down, laughing hard as he clung to Janus’ shoulders, the fae’s wings held aloft to keep them balanced.

Maybe ‘future husband’ didn’t sound so bad after all.

#anxceit #healthy anxciet #virgil sanders #janus sanders #sanders sides #fae au #eros and psyche #squid scribbles

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