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gucciwins · 5 years

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Are You Happy?

Harry and you get one more chance at love

Word count: 6180

A/N: Part two to Te Esperé is finally here! I went back and forth with where I wanted to take them but finally got to writing it down. It can be read as a stand alone. I love this story so I hope you do as well. Please let me know what you think. Love you all.

Hope you enjoy !

* * * * *

It’s your last day in Los Angeles and your thankful to finally be leaving. After spending the last two months here if feels as if your stay here has been fullfing but also draining. There is something about L.A. that just doesn’t feel like home even for a short visit. You miss the month you spent in Oregon in gloomy weather walking around carefree. It reminded you of home, it’s probably why you enjoyed it so much. Walking towards your car, you heard your phone ring but decide to answer as soon as you turned on the a/c in the car. As soon as you felt the car get cooler you took your phone out. It had four messages from Tiff. Which was weird seeing, as she was in London. It’s ten pm over there and she is not a night owl. Calls bedtime at 9pm. It’s enough to worry you.

Tiff

Did you see it?

How long have you removed social media?

Everyone is talking about it!!!! Did you know about it?

*photo attached*

There staring back at you was Harry Styles giving the camera a glowing smile that made his green eyes shine and the crinkle by his eyes just made you tear up. That smile that you have gone months missing, not knowing if he misses you also. You decide to answer her to let her rest.

Y/N

I had not seen this. I’ve sworn off all social media and it’s nice.

I have stopped myself from calling him too many times.

Tiff

Are you going to read it?

Y/N

Yes.

Always going to support the man I love.

Tiff

Call me if you need me. Xx

Rob Sheffield had managed to write something that moved you to tears. From talking about shrooms, to his past relationships, his time in Japan and yourself. You read between the lines, the heartbreak he talks about but never speaks your name. You were there for the early writing process but left him during it. You want to say you regret leaving him but you don’t. You regret that you were letting your love die.

As you clear up your tears, you exit out of the article and pull up a contact. One that holds a special place in your heart.

It rings and rings until finally the phone is picked up. You want to say something, but your throat feels like it is closing up.

“Hi, darling.” You cry. You start sobbing hearing her beautiful voice. The woman who has loved you like a mother. The woman who was there for you through good and bad. The woman who has accepted every call over the past three months.

“Hi Anne” The sniffles are heard on the other line but she makes no comment about them. “I’m sorry for calling a bit late. I hope I’m not bothering you.” You apologize.

“Oh you, I love speaking with you.” She pauses not sure how to continue what she wants to say next. “Are you okay?”

Anne is a saint. She loves you and is treating you as if you didn’t leave her son.Each phone you have had with her these last few months are what keep you strong. She never talks about breaking Harry’s heart when left him crying on the door steps. Now you don’t even know if you want to tell her why you’re crying because it feels ridiculous.

“Umm..m-my friend sent me the article link. He looks amazing. The article itself was a nice read.” You stare out at the buildings in front of you. Anne doesn’t answer so you decide to keep talking. “I’ve been isolating myself these past few months besides the phone calls with you and time with my family. I’m not making excuses but it’s been hard being away.”

Anne tells you soothing words encouraging you to keep going. To keep talking out all your emotions.

“I promised him I would be here for him every step of the way but I left him alone.” You feel the guilt in your chest remember how you left the house you had built of love together. “It feels wrong that I can’t call him to ask him how his day is.” You give up on wiping your tears away.

“Hey now, don’t be so harsh on yourself. He knows you are always supporting him. Always makes sure to remind us of your opinion for what he had so far.” Anne knows it would make you cry more but you’re okay with it because you love hearing about him.

“I should just go, I’m making a fool of myself talking to you because I broke his heart and-” She interrupts you.

“None of that” she tells you in a sharp motherly tone. “You made a hard choice but the right one for both of you.”

You nod along to her words but remember she can’t see you and you’re grateful for that.

“I just miss him. I have since the moment I left but Anne this time away healed something that was broken in me and not him. “ Finally being able to speak out all these emotions is freeing.

Anne clears her throat. “The time apart was needed in order to grow and see what was wrong in yourselves and not each other. You felt that your relationship was failing because you were failing yourself first.”

You settle down at those words. You think it over and it’s true. Time away made you stronger but also made you mentally aware that you are not okay one hundred percent.

You don’t speak, only listening to each other’s breathing.

“Still there?” Anne questions.

“I am.” you bite your bottom lip softly not pondering on how to ask her the important question. “Where-” She interrupts you right away.

“He’s in LA, with Jeff. Will be there for a few days.”

“Do you think he will be okay with me stopping by? Will he still want me?” You know it’s unfair to ask her these questions but you can’t seem to stop yourself.

“No one he loves more than you.” You smile at her words. “Trust me, I’m his mother.”

“Thank you, Anne.” No more tears but you wish you could be in London to receive a hug. “I love you.”

“And I love you, now I’ll be expecting a visit as soon as you’re back home.”

* * * * *

Chocolate.

The strong smell of dark chocolate filled the air. It must be the chocolate croissants fresh out the oven. The Rose Cafe is a small little place you found one day when you spent miles walking around the area of the beach. The light pink walls hold pictures of different flowers all around. Luz, the kind woman that owns the cafe has told you her nephew took the pictures and on more than one occasion told you he was single. Although she knew you were with Harry each time she said it, she knew you’d never take up the offer because she liked to say Harry looked at you just how my dear Frank did.

After that phone call with Anne you felt spent which is how you ended up in a comforting place where you could be alone before going to see Harry. The bell chimed as you walked in, you didn’t bother scanning a table to sit because you were eager to order.

“Beautiful!” That was screamed as you approached the counter. Your cheeks were heating up from the attention.

“Hi, Luz. It’s good to see you.” You smile at her leaning over the counter to give her a tight hug.

“I didn’t know you were in the city.” She states wanting to know more “Your gentleman didn’t say you were stopping by or else we would have had your favorite ready for you.”

You stare at her confused not knowing what she was talking about. There was no one you had brought here except- and that’s when you slowly turn around. You see Harry sitting in the far corner where a pretty picture of daisies sit behind him looking as handsome as ever with a book in his hand.

“Sorry, ummm…” Luz can tell you don’t want to talk about it.

“I’ll get your order ready, a blueberry muffin and black iced americano.” You nod taking out your wallet to pay and waste more time standing there. “On the house, dear.” You mutter a small thank you.

Deep breaths, you can do this. You were planning on doing this today, just that it got sped up a few hours. You don’t know how you get there but there you stand in front of Harry’s table. You clear your throat softly and he looks up. His book hits the table, he is not able to mask his surprise. He doesn’t look angry or sad. You don’t know what he’s feeling and that scares you.

“Hi Harry, do you mind if I sit with you?” You link your hands together stopping yourself from chipping at your nailpolish like you usually do when you’re nervous.

He nods and continues to stare at you. He closes his book and that’s when he breaks eye contact. You slide into the booth and place your bag next to you. There’s so much you want to say but for now you’ll stay content just staring at his face. The one that would wake you up in the middle of the night to tell you a joke he thought of. The same face that sang all kinds of songs with you in the kitchen. The same face that would give you endless amounts of kisses when you had a bit of food on your face.

“You look tired.” He comments. It honestly concerns him.

You nod knowing he’d pick up on the fact that you had been crying. “I donated blood a few days ago, always leaves me a bit tired for a few days.” He relaxes because he can see the small bruise on your arm where the needle was in for sometime.

Just as you were about to speak, your food was placed in front of you. You thank her quietly but ask Harry if he’d like anything. He declines politely.

You stare at your food and look up at Harry. You want to eat but also want to talk. You don’t know if he is running on a schedule scared he might leave. It’s like he can hear your thoughts when he speaks up.

“You can eat. We can talk after you’re done.” He assures you.

“I’m not keeping you from going anywhere, right?” You couldn’t help but question.

“I always got time for you.” You freeze at his words but so does Harry. He wasn’t expecting to say that but the smile on your face lets him know he’d do it again if he’d get that reaction once more.

You were finishing up the last few bites of your muffin when you decide to speak. Not the exact topic you want but one that will lead you there.

“I read the Rolling Stone article, it was a pleasant read.” You say nodding and finally looking up to catch his reaction.

“Thank you.” He doesn’t ask when you read but you can tell it is on the tip of his tongue.

“Yeah, ummm...I just read it today.” You tell him and it makes you feel a bit guilty. He looks upset, unbothered you’re not even sure what he feels but you press on. “I haven’t had much of a social life. I went off the grid on everyone for a month or two. To tell you the truth the only person I wanted to talk to was you.”

Harry has a strong poker face. “I talked to your mom a lot. That sounds selfish of me, I just could never bare to ask more than a simple how you were.”

You take a drink of your coffee and that’s when Harry speaks. “I talked to your brother often.” He nods pinching his top lip before letting go. “Always let me know you were okay. I was always tempted to text you updates on everything.”

Your eyes go wide. Nathan! He had spoken with Nathan these last few months and he never mentioned it. You really have an amazing brother.

“He told me you were at the show.”

The show, the one and only Fleetwood Mac. You had gone to see Fleetwood Mac with your brother on June 18. He had done the same with his family. When Stevie Nicks had called Harry her little muse right before singing landslide you were in tears. Not just for Harry having the love and respect of someone he looked up to but because this was your song and knowing you were in the same place after a few weeks hurt. Your brother said you could both leave but you knew you could never do that.

“Did he tell you how much I cried?” He laughs and nods his head.

“I cried just as much. Rob included that nice ending but he didn’t mention how my mom was basically holding me together.” Harry sighs. “I wish I had known you were there. It seems selfish to say but why didn’t you seek me out. You knew I was there.”

You know why he’s asking you. He wants answers and honestly so do you.

“I wasn’t ready. It had been less than a month since we-“ you correct youself “since i left. I wanted to be better not just for you and our relationship but for me. I spent time with family here, and once there I thought it was finally time I talked to somebody about it. So I did the one thing I was always too afraid to do and went to see a therapist. Harry, the problem was never our relationship it was ourselves. I felt like I couldn’t open up and I had no idea why.” You run a hand through your hair and let out a deep breath you were holding.

Harry’s hand rest on the table and you want to reach over and grab them. Have some kind of touch with him. “I- I’m proud of you, I wish I could have been there for you.” You can see he is beating himself up about it. “Jeff, had a close friend recommended me to one but I could never bring myself to go so instead I poured all my feelings out to mum and Gemma.”

You look around and see how quiet the place is. There’s no one else in the cafe surprisingly and you’re grateful for that. Even your dear friends have moved to the back to give you space.

“H, I left you during a time you were going to be most busiest and needed support but I’m thankful to know you had the two most important woman by your side.” You smile at him.

Harry gives you a timid smile. He reaches forward and laces your left hand with his right one. “Three most important woman, you may not have been there but you were just as important and involved.” You give his hand three gentle squeezes as you wipe your tears away. “You have always been my muse.”

“Do you still love me?” He asks, suddenly very vulnerable.

“I love you so much. Not a moment goes by where my heart doesn’t miss you.” You speak the truth and you hope he believes you..

“Good. I love you, but I bet you already knew that.” He says with a small smirk.

“It won’t hurt to hear it again.” Harry laughs at your cheekiness.

“I love you.”

He stands up pulls you with him embracing each other in a hug that washes away all your worries. You first the back of his shirt and hold him tight hoping he won’t disappear. He places light gentle kisses on your head. It’s nice and comforting.

“Where do we go from here?” You can’t help but question.

Harry pulls back a bit to look you in the eyes. “I know this won't be easy. It won’t be like before but we’ll take it slow. Day by day.” He’s assuring you that you’ll make it.

“I like how that sounds.”

“I’m not forgetting the years we had together but starting slow and easy sounds nice.” Your cheeks turn pink before you can even get your question out. “Harry, will you go on a date with me?”

Harry smirks shocked but happy you beat him to the question. “When are you leaving LA?”

“My flight leaves at one tomorrow.” Harry just nods.

“Got to leave Sunday, will you meet up with me once I arrive?”

“Of course, I will be at your mom’s house. She made plans to pick me up and keep me to herself. I hope that’s okay.” You tell him hoping he won’t react weird.

“Sounds lovely. Jealous my mom will be getting you longer than I did.” He shoot you a pretty smile.

“Well since, I have got a flight and must be there early, do you fancy going out now?” You look at him with a smile reserved only for him.

“I’d be an idiot to say no to you.” He pecks your cheek. “How about I also pick you up tomorrow for breakfast and see you off at the airport.”

“Sounds lovely.”

You and Harry can’t help it anymore needing to feel your lips against one another after so long. Harry wraps his arms around your waist and pulls you tight against him. You let one hand rest on his shoulder while the other brushes the curls off his forehead. Harry was leaning to connect your lips together when your name is yelled and the bell is heard. Your heads snap to the door quickly. You see a man and a woman you recognize. Once you look down you see who called your name. It was Bea.

She twists timidly. “Is it okay if I give you a hug? Mommy said I have to ask because some people may not like to be touched.” You heart swells with pride. That is just the sweetest thing. You look over at her parents and give them a wave. They approach you slowly. Bea is a lovely little girl at the blood drive. She was shy the first five minutes then eased into conversation effortlessly when realizing you were smart and pretty. Honestly, just a small time with her changes you for the better.

“I would love if you would give me a hug.” In the next second her arms are wrapped around your neck. It seems as if she doesn’t want to let go. She hugs a bit tighter when she feels you releasing you.

“Do I have to give you back you necklace?” She pouts hoping you say no.

“No.” You laugh. “I want you to take care of it. You’ll know when the time is right.” You stroke her cheek softly and it causes her to giggle.

You stand up but don’t let go of her hand. You look at the two adults who are smiling at you for making their daughter laugh in record time.

“Hi.” You stretch out your hand for him to shake “George right. Bea told me all about you and Annie.”

He gladly accepts your handshake. “You must be the best friend she can’t seem to stop talking about.”

You can’t help but blush because Bea really is the sweetest little girl. You look over at Harry and you’re not sure how to introduce him.

“This is Harry.” You say looking at him and he’s looking right back at you with a gleam in his eye.

“I’m her boyfriend, It’s lovely to meet you.” He shocks you and he knows that. You can’t wipe the smile off your face and reach up to place a gentle kiss on his cheek.

“How about I buy you all some treats?” You say looking at Bea who starts dragging you in seconds to the register. George states he’ll go as well to help make some good choices for his wife and himself. Your eager to spend time with Bea that it seems to slip your mind that Harry has never met these people.

Annie stands with Harry. She sees the smile Harry gives her as she talks with Bea helping her choose a pastry.

“We met her at the blood drive a few days ago, she was a ray of sunshine to everyone in that room.” Harry can’t help the smile that comes out hearing that compliment about his girl. “Gave Bea a beautiful necklace that has three daises right in the center a few days ago at the blood drive because Bea was afraid she’d never see her again.” Annie doesn’t catch Harry’s reaction because she is staring at the little girl who is in your arms pointing to a chocolate eclair she wants.

Harry stands there trying to mask his shock. That necklace was given to you by your mother. He swears he never saw you go a day without it. To part with something so meaningful for a little girl she hasn’t known very long must mean that you saw something beautiful and special in this small child named Bea. “She always seems to see the best people.” Harry tells Annie.

You turn around to point at carrot cake cupcake and he nods his head yes. You blow him a kiss. It’s surprising how she seems to be glowing now than when she was standing at the end of the table.

Harry knows it’s because she was missing a piece of herself and honestly Harry feels exactly the same. With her back in his life he feels whole again.

Here’s to falling in love all over again.

* * * * *

26 September 2031

The backyard is full of chatter and laughter as well as screams of children every so often. You’re happy your closest friends and family were able to join you on this beautiful day. The beautiful fairy lights that took him a few hours work finally got put up after six months of procrastination. He likes to say he was waiting for this day but you know better than that. You spot Gemma taking a shot with your brother and Anne scolding them for doing it in front of the kids.

You feel a hand on your waist and smile. You let yourself fall back into the familiar chest you fall asleep on each night. He smells like cinnamon and you can’t help but laugh knowing he must have snuck a treat while no one was looking.

“Can’t go eating dessert before everyone, H.” Harry laughs because he knows he can never get away with anything with you by his side.

“Would it make it better if I said I brought you a cookie.”

You turn around in his hold. You look around making sure no eyes are on you. “As long as it’s one of the snicker doodle cookies.”

Harry’s eyes twinkle with delight. “What kind of husband would I be if I bought the wrong one.”

“Let’s hope we never have to find out, right Husband?” You look up at him and open your eyes closing you eyes as well.

“My dear wife, hope you enjoy this stolen snack.” He places the small bite sized cookie in your mouth and you chew slowly. You moan in appreciation but open your eyes quickly cheeks going red. Harry is trying his best not to laugh too loud to allow you to finish the sweet treat.

“Idiot, don’t know why I married you if you just laugh at me.” You make to walk away when Harry wraps his arms tight around you.

“Hey” he says dragging out the word. “Don’t be mean. Threw you a wedding party and this is the thanks I get.”

You know he isn’t offended but you decide to deliver one last blow.

“The reason we are having a ten year wedding vow renewal and reception is because your big ego wanted lots of attention not because you wanted to remarry me.”

Harry makes a shocked face at you not expecting that reply. He doesn’t respond but what he does next is worse. He begins tickling your sides and within seconds you’re out of breath. He shows no sign of stopping until the music is cut off.

“Can the husband and wife please stop with the pda and please make way to their seat.” Nick yells into the microphone that grabs everyone’s attention.

Harry being the most obnoxious dork that lives for the attention does exactly what you think he was going to do. “I’ll show you public display of affection!”

Next thing you know Harry is reaching down and connecting your lips together. The kiss is slow and deep. Harry makes sure to pour out all his emotions.

Thank you. I’m proud of you. I love you.

You finally pull away when the cheering only seems to be getting louder. You open your eyes slowly to a lovely sight of Harry having your red lipstick all over his mouth. You can’t help the giggle that leaves your mouth at the sight. He gives you a few more pecks before leads you to your seats where he then let’s you remove the lipstick but not without saying, “I think red suits me more, love.” Which earned him a thump on his head.

You and all your guests wait until the person who is giving your speech to make their way up to the front. As you’re waiting, a small six year old climbs into your lap. You smile at the piercing green eyes looking up at you.

“Hi mommy” You sweet boy Oliver greets.

“Hi my Ollie.” You greet him back with kisses all over his face being careful not to leave traces of lipstick on his face. “What are you up to, my love” Harry smiles at two of you before tearing his gaze to look for a missing member of the Styles family.

“I want cookies, Mali says to come ask you.” Harry and you let out a laugh knowing that your oldest child has sent her baby brother to come ask for dessert that isn’t being given out yet.

“Oh look, here she comes.” Harry says softly watching his beautiful girl comes skipping over with no care in the world.

“Mommy, Daddy” Mali begins but Harry stops her by grabbing her and kissing her all over just like you had done with Oliver.

“Daddy, are you finished? This is important.” She all but exclaims.

Harry pouts not liking that his daughter is being too bossy but to wrapped around her finger to stop her.

“I saw Daddy eat a cookie and then hide another. You said no one was allowed. It’s not fair that he got to do that. Seeing as I didn’t see Daddy eat it I’m assuming you, Mommy” She paused to point at you. “Ate it, meaning my brother and I are allowed to eat some as well seeing as well all share the last name.”

After Mali is done with her very valid argument you got no reason to tell her no. But as you look over at Harry he looks upset as in tears in his eyes.

“Baby, you okay?” You place a hand on his pack rubbing up and down in comfort.

“My little girl is just so smart and soon she’ll be a lawyer winning all these cases worldwide.”

“Don’t go sending my girl out of the country. Don’t think I could survive not seeing her that long.” You scold him. “Don’t go talking about the future, next thing you know I’ll be an uncontrollable mess.

You turn back to your children who had began talking to each other quietly. You make Ollie and Mali stand in front of you hiding your smile.

“My darlings, what your Daddy did was bad.” Harry’s eyebrows shoot up but give him a glare daring him to contradict you in front of your children. “He didn’t listen to the rules and that isn’t fair. However, it also isn’t fair for you to eat treats and the other guest aren’t so-” Mali opens her mouth slowly as to let you know she is going to interrupt you but you let her know you aren’t finished yet. “So, this is what you’re going to do. You’re going to Nana Anne and will give you each a cookie and you can grab more after your Aunt Bea does her toast.”

Both your children give you big grins. Just as they are about to runaway to their Nana they give you a tight hug and kiss one on each cheek. They are two steps away from running when Harry clears his throat reminding his children he was there. Ollie kisses is Daddy first then runs off, Mali is close behind after quickly giving her Daddy two kisses on his left cheek.

Harry turns to look at you after he sees their children make it safely to his mom. “It’s like I wasn’t even there. These kids don’t listen to me like they do you.” He pouts leaning back into your arms.

You squeeze Harry tight. “It’s cause they know you’re the fun parent meaning you’re a child as much as they are.”

Harry turns his head to look at you a pout on his lips. You raise your eyebrow at him because he is proving your point. He places a soft kiss on your lips and sits up.

“Hello everyone, my name is Bea and I will be giving a toast to the lovely husband and wife who are celebrating ten years together and they surprisingly wanted us all here even though Harry doesn’t know how to share his wife.” She says causing everyone to laugh.

You tear up looking at seventeen year old Bea, who is radiating happiness. She has grown up so fast you remember when she was just a five year old not wanting you to go away. You blow her a kiss and she is quick to catch it making everyone around you laugh.

“My toast will be about myself and the lovely wife because if I compliment Harry even once his head might finally explode.” You can’t help the snort that you let out at the joke. Making Harry look at you with a playful glare but give his hand a squeeze to calm him.

“I want to talk to you about my five visits to Europe. Most specifictly London, where the Styles’ family resides. The first time I came to visit I was seven years old. I told everyone I was flying across the country to go to “My Best Friend's Wedding”. I told everyone at the airport and I’m sure my parents wished they could have sewed my mouth shut.” Bea smiles at the memory of seeing you for the first after what felt years and the hug Bea gave you that lasted ten whole minutes. “ The second time I came was to meet my non goddaughter. At nine years old, I thought my life was over because they didn’t trust me with their daughter. I mean I understand now.”

You laugh out loud at her comment. “It was Harry’s fault.” You yell.

“Oh, I know. He doesn’t like sharing the Styles’s ladies with me.”

“At eleven, my third visit I’m very excited to spend the summer here. Four weeks with my best friend and no parents. The dream for a pre-teen. But guess what, I spent it in a bakery for three weeks because Harry stole my best friend for a vacation and left me with sweet Anne and baby Mali. They needed that trip because look what came out of that.” Someone in the back shouted “Ollie.”

“Whoever just screamed out sweet baby Ollie’s name is correct. They went on a trip to get lucky but I mean who wouldn’t she such a catch. Don’t know how Harry did it.”

Harry looks over to his smiling and blushing wife. “Who let her make the toast?” He loves it and hates it at the same time.

“I think Nick helped her rewrite it.” You whisper back.

“I’m going to kill him.”

“Fifteen years old, the age all dad’s grow gray hairs worried about daughters and mom and daughters get even closer. It’s spring break, keep in mind it’s only one week. My parents don’t think twice about sending me because their little girl was facing her first heartbreak and needed a change of scenery. Also, the iconic moment when on day two I went into the backyard and screamed, “I’’M GAY!” How iconic is that.” Bea is quick to wipe her tears not wanting to think back to a painful year. “It was nice to be free and accepted. To end this fourth visit trip on a lighter note, Harry cried when I yelled that because he was so proud of me.” Bea shoots him a grateful smile when he begins to cry again.

“Would it be rude if I ran up there to hug her?” Harry sniffles.

“Yes. She would end you.” You laugh wrapping him up in a hug.

“Now my fifth and favorite visit so far is today, or well last week at the age of seventeen. Why, you may ask because they took me to get a tattoo. With parents consent of course. She held my hand the whole way through and they tattooed daisies on my collarbone. I was offended when she said she wasn’t getting a matching one with me.” Bea shrugs but you could tell it upset her that day but she’s over it.

“It’s cause she already has one in honor of you.” Harry yells finally giving away a well kept secret.

“SHUT UP! I will cry” Bea knows it’s already too late seeing as she feels her face wet.

Harry moves your hair back as well as your dress strap to the side and there on your collar bone is a bee flying as if it was looking for a flower to land on. You’re quick to cover it up when you see Bea has seen it. She’s give you a smile hinting you’ll be talking about it later.

“I’m going to wrap this up because you didn’t come for me, you came for the narcissistic that loves attention and the lovely Y/N. I want to say you make marriage look fun. You’re marriage is strong but what keeps it strong are the two partners that work everyday to communicate and give love because they remember to always choose love.” Bea picks up her glass and everyone copies her action. “Here’s to the Styles’ who may always be full of love and happiness. To a thousand more years together because you’re immortal. I swear they don’t look a day over 25. Well Harry is debatable. Cheers.” Bea walks up to you and Harry after chugging down her champagne.

Harry wraps her up in a big hug not letting her go until he felt her hug him back just as tight. Harry gives his wife a sweet forehead kiss and gives her a moment with Bea. Bea is quick to launch herself in your arms. You love this sweet girl who grew up into a beautiful lady. You want her to be as happy as you are. You pull away and wipe away her tears.

“I love you. You will always be my best friend.”

“And you mine.” She squeezes you hand before releasing something in it.

You open up the hand and there is your necklace. “Thought a lovely little girl might need it more than I do.”

“Bea, you are a true blessing that was sent to me I swear it.” You kiss her cheeks and send her off going to dance with your husband for the remainder of the night.

You step onto the dance floor just as Landslide starts to play. You turn around and there is Harry giving you a beautiful smile. His eyes crinkle full of love and life. He spins you around before pulling you in close. You rest your head on his chest and sigh at the comforting sound of his heart beat.

Harry every few seconds kisses your head just swaying you around the dance floor. You feel someone bump into you and Harry turns you softly. There looking up at you are your two angels. They give you sheepish smiles but turn away not before whispering a soft I love you. Mali has Ollie wrapped up in a hug as they waddle side to side to the song that is playing.

“Are you happy?” Harry asks always caring about his wife.

“Yes. I’m happy.” The smile you give Harry makes his heart beat ten times faster.

“Being here with you and dancing without children under the stars is a dream come true.” You tell Harry in a low whisper looking up into his beautiful green eyes.

Harry leans down and captures your lips. He feels every bit of happiness you were talking about..

The house that once was empty is now filled with happiness, life, laughter but most importantly love.

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Feedback is welcomed and appreciated :)

#harry styles #harry styles one shot #harry styles imagine #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #dad! harry #harry styles x y/n #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles blurb #harry styles story

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alluremin · 5 years

Text

noodle | jjk

pairing: jeon jungkook | reader

genre: boyfriend!au | pure, unadulterated fluff

warnings: none

premise: Sometimes it can get lonely when Jungkook has to leave, and that's definitely the only reason why you continuously pester him to get you a cat.

word count: 1.3k

“Please?” You asked for roughly the fifth time, pulling at the loose fabric of Jungkook's hoodie. At some point another, you were determined to get an answer out of him, and no wasn’t in your vocabulary.

“I don’t know, y/n, we can hardly take care of ourselves. Last week, we had to call Yoongi because you couldn’t figure out how to use the breaker.” Jungkook looked at you skeptically, rolling his eyes when you only responded with a pouted lip.

“But a kitten isn’t a breaker, it’s a tiny little love machine full of love that will love you forever!”

Your boyfriend chuckled at your words. “Sometimes I question how old you are.” Jungkook grabbed the fist you had wrapped around his sweatshirt and slipped his fingers in between your own. He pulled your pouty self away from the window of the animal rescue, trying to keep you two moving down the street toward the cafe you had originally come to town for. You shuffled your feet along the pavement and pushed your head into your boyfriend’s arm bitterly. His shoulders shook as he laughed at your antics.

You delivered a pathetic slap to Jungkook’s chest. “Don’t laugh at me, Guk! I’m trying to sulk in peace.”

“No, you’re trying to guilt me into buying you a kitten.” You reached the cafe, Jungkook holding the door open for you. “A kitten is a lot of responsibility, and we’re both so busy right now, babe.”

“You’re not supposed to be the reasonable one in this relationship..,” the pout on your face somehow got stronger as you stood in line to order. Jungkook just smiled in response and kissed your forehead. You made a mental note to continue pouting no matter the circumstance.

Days go by since you spotted those cats through the shelter window, your mission to guilt your boyfriend ended shortly after you two sat down at the cafe. Sure you had thought about it, but you and Jungkook both knew that you went through, what he called, phases. This wasn’t the first time you had asked him for a pet, far from it. The reasons for your begging ranged anywhere from those sad commercials on T.V., to the Dodo snapchat stories. Regardless of how the idea popped into your head, it always triggered the same response. A few hours of shameless begging, a sprinkle of guilt, and a buttload of affection toward your boyfriend.

You were busying yourself with loading the dishwasher while you waited for Jungkook to get home from work. You were halfway through the pile of plates sat before you when you heard your phone vibrate on the countertop, the dishes before you, quickly forgotten.

[8:57 pm] Coconut: hey sweets, i’m gonna be home about an hour later than i thought, i’ll see you in a bit!

You frowned slightly at his text. This happened pretty often, Jungkook having to stay late to finish a recording or work on choreography, so you wouldn’t say you were necessarily disappointed. That being said, you missed him more often than not lately. With the comeback approaching, those late nights were happening much more frequently. After typing out a quick reply, you set your phone back down and continued the task you abandoned.

After you finished with the dishes, you planted yourself onto the couch and turned on the T.V., mindlessly watching whatever was on Travel channel. Josh Gates was solving yet another thrilling mystery that you couldn’t be bothered to watch progressively. Instead, you hopped in between each of your social media sites, looking at the same posts over and over again, hoping to find something new or even remotely interesting. Just then, the telltale sounds of your future anguish reach your ears and you scramble to bury your head under the blankets. Sarah McLachlan’s voice signaled the sight of the sad, neglected animals on your screen. You screeched and buried your head under the blanket and covered your ears. Guilt was an awfully powerful tool.

Thirty seconds passed, and the commercial was finally over. You felt the familiar pout creep over your features, and you knew that Jungkook would get an earful of it when he got home. Maybe you were being bratty, but when you look around your empty apartment, you couldn’t help but feel lonely. Most of the time, you were at school, studying, or doing homework, but when you finish all of those things, you’re often left to your own isolation. You loved Jungkook, and you understood and accepted his job, but sometimes you really hated how much you were apart. So, yeah, maybe you were being repetitive and a little bit annoying with your request, but there’s only so much cleaning you could do around the apartment to satiate your boredom.

While you were deep in your thoughts, you heard the front door open, signaling the arrival of your boyfriend. You hopped up from your blanket cocoon and sprinted over to the front door, tears springing to your eyes when you saw what was in front of you. Jungkook was cradling a small, orange ball of fluff against his chest. A large smile graced his lips when he noticed the blubbering mess that you had turned into. You stumbled over the shoes in the entryway en route to Jungkook and the tiny kitten he was holding.

“I-... kitty,” you whined out as you continued to bawl over the tiny creature. “You,” sniffle, “got a,” sniffle, “kitty!”

“Yes, sweetheart, I got a kitty,” Jungkook reached his arm up and scratched the back of his neck. You loved when he got shy like this. You looked away from the kitten on his chest for a second and kissed his blushing cheek. “I just, know you get lonely when ‘m not here and I just-,”

“Thank you, baby,” you grasped his cheek and pulled him toward your lips. He reciprocated immediately and sighed in relief, trying to deepen the kiss. Just then, the kitten let out a strangled meow from below you and Jungkook. You giggle and break away from your boyfriend and look at the tiny creature. While you make yourself busy petting the kitten’s head, Jungkook clears his throat.

“The shelter called her Noodle, she’s 3 months old, and she has 3 legs.” Your eyes meet Jungkook’s at his last piece of information. You quickly scoop the kitten out of your boyfriends, and sure enough, one of Noodle’s back legs were absent. Cradling the baby to your chest, you felt the tears spring to your eyes once again.

“She’s the sweetest sweetheart who ever existed, I love her!” Jungkook pulled you into his arms and kissed the top of your head, giggling while you ugly-cried in your boyfriend’s arms.

You managed to pull yourself together after about ten minutes of blubbering. In between your sobs, you managed to catch scattered bits of information about the kitten. Jungkook had gone to the shelter a week prior and signed the paperwork to adopt the tabby. Noodle had been in and out of shelters and foster homes for the first three months of her life. Apparently, she had been orphaned, got an infection in her leg from the poor conditions she had been found in and soon after, had her leg amputated. You couldn’t wrap your head around the fact that nobody wanted her.

It also just dawned on you that Jungkook walked into the house with a cat and a cat only. You had no supplies for her whatsoever. This realization broke you out of your reverie and your wide eyes met Jungkook’s.

“Um, babe, you didn’t happen to buy a litter box, food, bowls, blankets, or a crate for her, did you?” His eyes widened as large as yours had at your question.

“Uh…”

“Jungkook! It’s not like we have that stuff just sitting around the house!”

“This is why I can’t have too much responsibility!” Jungkook threw his hands up in defeat, his bottom lip pouting out as we whined at you.

You grabbed his hands as you stood, sticking the cat into your zip-up and making your way to the door. “C’mon, we gotta make a trip to the store, our child needs some stuff.”

“Our child?” Jungkook looks at you incredulously.

“Yes, Noodle is our baby. Don’t look at me like that! You should have been expecting this.”

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#bts fluff #bts drabbles #bts scenarios #bts fanfic #bts imagines #bts #bts boyfriend #jeon jungkook #jungkook fanart #bts jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook scenario #jungkook drabble #request #jungkook imagine #boyfriend!jungkook #jungkook x reader #bts x reader

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chwetuan · 6 years

Text

Purple Velvet - Mark Tuan x Reader (m)

Summary: Mark’s having a hard time staying at your side with you in that purple dress (4.1k).

Rating: M

Warnings: swearing, use of alcohol, implied smut, mention of a parental death (not elaborated on).

Sidenote - this is loosely inspired by the “The House Party” (part of the “LOOK” Drabble Series) by @inyournightmares97 (she’s awesome, I love her)

Sidenote 2.0 - thank you so much to @mintyjin for being an amazing person and sharing her thoughts with me on this fic (she’s awesome x2) | now let’s move onto this mess of a fic shall we

Mark was definitely not happy that you decided to wear that dress. Although, there was nothing that he could really do or say about it. It was beautiful; a purple velvet that shimmered whenever light hit it. So, he watched as you greeted everyone that approached you, your head bowing with that smile of yours on display.

It was a work gathering, in celebration of several head partners securing possibly the biggest contract of the year; an accomplishment that would finally put the firm at the top of the industry. The owners of the company rented out one of the newest clubs in town and filled the open space with employees and extended guests, ranging upwards of 500 people. The place was crowded. You had just recently become the new Manager of the IT department, which was undoubtedly a big accomplishment for someone as young and arguably inexperienced as you. Many said that there was something about you, something they “couldn’t put their finger on”. Little did they know that your only quirk was that you simply liked computers. They were complicated, but once you learned them, they made sense. In a way, it mirrored your relationship with Mark.

Mark, being one of your closest friends, emphasis on close, had accepted to be your +1 before you even asked him. He just assumed that he’d be the person you’d take. He knew some of your fellow co-workers through college, so attending the event wouldn’t have put him in an overbearingly uncomfortable situation. Anyways, he was social. People liked him. Yet, tonight, his face was positively set in a scowl with his jaw clenched and no one even tried to speak to him. But several people came and spoke to you. And boy, was he having a hard time. He watched helplessly as your delicate hand came up and flipped your dark hair over your shoulder. With his bottom lip now tugged between his teeth, he averted his eyes and scanned the room because god knows he needed something else to look at. Without much luck, he snatched a glass of champagne from the tray of a clumsy waitress that was passing by, choosing to turn to alcohol if he couldn’t find something else to keep his attention. He sipped it, scrunching his nose at the taste before placing the unfinished drink on a nearby table. Cheap, he thought. Or perhaps it was too expensive. He couldn’t tell; champagne wasn’t really his drink of choice anyway, and if he wanted to make it through this event, he would need something way stronger. As expected, his eyes wandered back to you. They always managed to do that. They traveled down your back, admiring the colorful tattoos that adorned the skin he knew was soft. That damned dress, he thought. All he wanted, quite frankly, was the dress off or for you to at least cover your chest; make a damn choice, he reasoned with himself. But neither of those things would be happening, not then and most definitely not later on. So, he settled for stepping closer to you and running his hand down the trail of writing that was exposed to him. And everyone else, he thought begrudgingly. The sudden contact made you jump, causing you to forget what you were going to say to the older woman in front of you. You smiled apologetically at her and excused yourself, promising to find her later on and continue your conversation. She smiled in response before taking a sip out of her glass and swimming into the sea of people. You turned to Mark and looked up at him with questioning eyes as you felt the palm of his hand close around your waist and pull you closer to him. You tensed when he brought his lips down to your ear and spoke, surprisingly, curtly. It wasn’t the tone you were expecting. “I’m going to find Jinyoung. If you need me, text me.” “Mark-“ And with that, the warmth of his hand along with his presence disappeared. The air around you was replaced with a sudden coolness that caused goosebumps to rise on your skin. That asshole didn’t even wait for a response. But that’s how things seemed to settle between you and him; hot and cold. One minute, he’d have you pressed against his chest, engulfing you in one of the most comforting embraces a person could give. The next minute, he wouldn’t even spare you with a glance. Whenever he touched you, you could feel the air around you shift. Each touch was purposeful- Mark didn’t just hold your hand or kiss your temple without reason. He held your hand because he didn’t want to lose sight of you in the crowd; he kissed your temple because he noticed how your smile faltered at the sidelined remark that came from a friend. He was good at noticing those things. Tonight, however, he was being an asshole. You didn’t know why, either. It was times like these that the reality of your relationship dawned on you. Mark could do whatever the hell he wanted. You could, also. You weren’t dating. You weren’t together. It started on a dark, mostly drunken night, when all that was audible was the sound of thunder and heavy rain. Why you and Mark had decided to get piss drunk during the middle of one of the worst storms the town would face, eluded you both. “The world is about to fucking end,” you concluded, feeling rather confident with your deduction. And in your state of intoxication, you fell clumsily into each other’s arms. “The world is not going to end without me doing this,” he said before his lips met yours. That messy kiss was the first domino to fall. The line that was crossed. Afterward, you would find yourselves in one of your apartments on several different occasions, exchanging those same kisses and sometimes more. And that’s where you guys were now. In a confusing limbo of friendship where you both had more than friendly feelings for each other. It left you to wonder why you didn’t just date, or stop screwing each other, physically and emotionally. He often thought of it too. You both knew stopping was out of the picture. There had been too many nights where you found yourself underneath him, begging him to do something- anything, to get rid of the knot he’d slowly tied in your stomach. There had been an equal number of other nights where you didn’t have to ask. But on these nights, he kissed your forehead like you were made of porcelain. There had been nights that you cried into his arms; nights that you found you could only sleep if he was next to you. There were days that went by where he found himself miserable without hearing your voice or seeing you. And although you never claimed each other with a title, you both knew the truth. There was no one else on this hell-forsaken earth that could understand you like Mark Tuan could. No one that could make you feel like he could. No one that could make you as frustrated or as happy. Right now, you were frustrated. The asshole. ~~~~~ Mark hadn’t found Jinyoung. Jinyoung had found Mark, after Mark had downed two glasses of tequila at the bar and was ordering his third. He sat, one elbow on the bar counter, his free hand resting lazily on his thigh. Jinyoung hated tequila. He thought it was a cheap man’s drink. But more importantly, he hated what it meant when Mark Tuan drank tequila: the man was ready to stir up some trouble. And Mark Tuan looked a mess. “Yah, hyung- what’s the matter?” Jinyoung asked as he seated himself on the stool next to him. “That fucking dress,” Mark mumbled, grimacing at the burn his throat felt when he sipped his fresh drink. Jinyoung couldn’t hear him. The music was too loud and the dj was playing the same stupid pop song he had played twice already. “What?” He asked leaning closer towards him, “Nothing.” Mark spoke louder this time, sitting up and turning slightly to face him. “Who are you here with? You didn’t drive, right?” Jinyoung asked, the concern dripping off of his words. His eyes scanned Mark’s face, taking in his flushed features. Mark would’ve preferred if he said “Hey, Mark, you drunken idiot. You took a cab, right? You have that look in your eye, you know, the one that screams “I’m drunk off my ass and need a babysitter.” I’m here to babysit you”. “I’m supposed to be here with Y/N-“He started, pausing to sip his drink,“But she’s probably out there ass kissing her way to another promotion.” The corners of Jinyoung’s mouth turned downward. So, this was the trouble Mark wanted to start, he thought to himself. “You know you don’t mean that, hyung.” It was true. He didn’t mean it. Jinyoung always knew what the truth was. “We took a cab. This is my last drink.” He shrugged before taking another sip. Jinyoung nodded and motioned towards the second floor balcony of the club. “I’ll be up there- I think Jaebum might still be there too. If you get tired, tell the host you’re looking for table 6. Bambam disappeared about an hour ago but I’m sure he’s either throwing up or hooking up.” Mark nodded, not really paying attention to what the man in front of him was saying. He thought the music was too loud and he felt dizzy. He also thought the tie Jinyoung had on was stupid, which is why- he concluded,- that he couldn’t focus on what he was actually saying. He reasoned that whatever Jinyoung was saying was stupid anyway, because who could wear such a god-awful tie. Willingly? ~~~~~ You caught a glimpse of Mark about an hour later, as it got closer to 11pm. When you came face to face, you noticed 2 things. The first being his slightly glassy eyes, and the second being the red color that danced across his cheeks. Then you noticed one more thing. The glass of tequila in his left hand. “Are you drunk?” You huffed out in annoyance and stared at him with expectant eyes. “Are you drunk?” He replied; shifting on his feet. You could tell he was unsteady. “I had one glass of champagne.” “I had one glass of champagne.” He repeated in a sarcastically saccharine voice. It was true, he did have one glass of champagne. Kind of. “Mark,” you started, reaching your hand out to take the liquid courage away from him. “Give me that. You’re going to fall and spill it all over yourself.” Mark grabbed your hand with his own free one before raising the hand that held the drink far above your reach. “No Y/N, this is my last drink. And if I have to stick around here and deal with stupid ties and stupid music and stupid people, and then you,” he paused to analyze your face, “Then I’m going to need it.” “Stupid ties? What the hell are you talking about?” You asked, with annoyance and a hint of confusion teasing across your tone. You figured it was just the alcohol talking. Drunk Mark was positively your least favorite Mark, right next to the Mark who thought it was okay to stand up immediately when a flight landed. He brought the drink down slowly, keeping his eyes on you as he downed what remained before slamming the glass down on the table in front of him. You were surprised it didn’t shatter. His hold on your hand had shifted, and now his fingers and palm encased your wrist. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was uncomfortable. He pulled you once, not hard enough to make you stumble- and then again. He was trying to get you closer to him, but you weren’t budging. “Y/N”, he whined, tugging incessantly at your wrist. It was then you decided that you needed to get out of there before he did something stupid. Or before you said something stupid to him. After one particularly hard tug, you found yourself bracing your free hand against his chest - a method of not crashing into him- as his hands found their way around your waist. You were so close to him; you could see his navy hair beginning to cling to his forehead. “I don’t like when you look at me like that.” He huffed out, throwing his head back. “Like I did something bad.” You just stared. He sounded like a child. “We’re leaving.” Mark felt reprimanded. ~~~~~ Getting Mark out the doors of the crowded club was a task you could manage. He was relatively small, although he towered over you, even with heels. You had been through much worse. However, getting him to keep his hands off of you in the cab was something you couldn’t manage. It wasn’t sexual; the way his arm was around your waist with his head resting on your shoulder. You and Mark had hooked up enough times that you knew what he was like when he needed you, or wanted you, rather. Mark was very conscious of the fact that you were mad at him, and he wasn’t even thinking about getting you in his bed, even if that damn dress wastempting. Anger was engraved on your face. He could see it in the slight pout of your lips - that he so badly wanted to kiss- and in the way you avoided looking at him. He hated that. “Y/N, you know I lo-“ he started; only to be cut off by a sigh escaping your mouth. “I don’t want I hear it.” He stayed quiet. Mark had a dirty habit of telling you he loved you when he was intoxicated. It was something he never said sober. Although, there had been one time when you heard him say it, to you specifically. It was a few weeks after your mother had passed away. You weren’t in a good place. You had threw your phone against the wall of your apartment, frustrated with the world. You were sick of the messages. The condolences from people who didn’t care. Tears ran down your face until you felt numb. Somehow, you managed to get into your car and drive to Mark’s apartment complex. It was late- you knew it then too- probably around 1 or 2am. You didn’t even know where you were until you found your feet on his “Welcome” mat. When he opened the door and saw you, he felt his heart break- he swore to it. He had never felt something like that before. You looked at him with tear stained cheeks and wet lashes. You started to cry again. He looked like comfort. He looked like peace. Your hands covered your face and you somehow choked out a strained “I’m sorry”. You didn’t know when he had brought you inside or locked the door, but you felt his hands around you, one on the back of your neck, the other on the back of your head. “No, Y/N. No, don’t you ever apologize.” His voice was stern but you knew the malice was superficial. His hands tilted your head so you were looking up at him. Once again, he had that feeling in his chest. A cross between a shatter and a stab. He hated it. “Baby, come here,” he whispered before pulling you into his arms. Next, you were on his bed, crying into his chest as he held you. You could feel his even breathing on the top of your head. His room was dimly lit, the glow of the green fairy lights along with the soft light reflecting off of the tv in front of you. You’d remembered those green lights. It was Christmas, the year before, and you’d harassed Mark into letting you put them up. He’d complained that they were stupid, as he thought most things were. But he let you do it anyway, and once he saw the way your eyes lit up, he was mad at himself for not saying yes sooner. Your sobs eventually died down, and your breathing evened as Mark’s hand rubbed your back soothingly. He spoke, so quietly that he probably couldn’t even hear himself over the buzz of the cartoons playing in the background, “God, I love you so much.” He thought you were sleeping. ~~~~~ With much effort, you had managed to slip out of your dress and into a pair of shorts and a large t-shirt, huffing when you realized that it was Mark’s. You stared at the exposed red brick of the wall, contemplating your next move.

His apartment was much larger than yours- a balcony and all. It suited him. It constantly smelled like a mixture of vanilla and his cologne; there was artwork and pictures everywhere. The couches were made of black leather and decorated with fluffy blankets and pillows, way too many for you to count. And then there was your stuff. You had - “annoyingly”, as he always said - left your hair ties on the coffee table and kitchen counter, along with earrings and other “unnecessary shit”, Mark called it. In his shower, your fruity shampoo was on the rack, right next to his body wash. You had a makeup bag next to the bathroom sink that he swore he was going to get rid of if you didn’t take it home. He never threw it away, and you never took it. One of your pink bras hung on the hook of his bedroom door, and there was a grey cardigan you’d been looking for since last October hanging in his closet. Mark was capable of changing into a hoodie and a pair of black sweatpants before flopping down on the couch. He was sobering up, you thought. More like hoped. At least you didn’t have to dress him. You already felt like you were babysitting. His arm was thrown over his face as you padded out of his bedroom with a freshly washed face. You walked over to him, nudging his knee with your own. “C’mon, let’s go to sleep. You need to-“ “You’re mad at me.” He cut you off, as you had done to him in the car. You huffed. He noticed that you kept doing that tonight, but he was wise enough to not mention it. “Mark, you need to-“ “Why are you mad at me?” Those words were the first indication that no, he was not sobering up. The second was him pulling you into his lap and clinging onto you as if you were going to run away. “We’ll talk tomorrow, okay?” You spoke softly. He just stared at you as if you were a code he needed to break. Contemplative. You tried to stand but his hands were holding you in place. This time, he wasn’t budging. “Mark,” you whined just as he had done when you were back at the club. “I’m tired, I want to sleep.” It was his turn to huff. He gently guided you off of him- surprising, considering his state- and in turn you guided him to his bedroom. Lights off, in bed. His hands still not leaving you. ~~~~~ When you awoke, you were surprised not to find your bodies tangled together. You braced yourself on your elbows before reaching for your phone and checking the time; 10:09am. Mark peeked out of the bathroom, toothbrush in mouth, when he heard you stirring. Your eyes met his, and for a brief moment, you were almost angry that he didn’t have a hangover. He waved at you before returning to the bathroom to finish brushing his teeth. When he was finished, you got up and did the same. You sat next to him on the bed, taking his face in your hands and scanning it. You checked his eyes and felt his forehead. “Well, you don’t look like you have a hangover.” You stated, dropping your hands and running them through your own tousled hair. He laughed and your heart fluttered. It always did that when you were around him. “I don’t,” he said as if it was the most obvious thing. “I woke up before you, after all.” You hummed and a few moments of silence passed between you. Mark eyed you, trying to think of the best way to say what he wanted. He knew he had to apologize. He was too slow, as you began talking. “Last night-“ “I’m sorry,” He cut you off again, intent on saying what he needed. He had been up for half an hour with words running through his mind. “I remember most of it and I know I was very rude and probably embarrassed you. I’m sorry for not staying with you and being a proper date. I’m sorry you had to leave early and babysit me- though I won’t say I’m not happy you did. I’m sorry.” He was rambling, but every word was sincere. “It’s okay, Mark.” You said softly as you scooted closer to him, placing your hand over his. He eyed your small hand over his own before examining your face. Squinting slightly. He always did that before he finally solved a problem or figured something out. “What?” You asked; expecting him to completely change topics and say something profound borderline ridiculous. “Last night,” he started, the first two words already throwing you off. “I said that if I had to continue to deal with you, I would need a drink. I made it sound bad because I included you with all the stupid shit that was there already. Y/N, never would I ever not want to deal with you. I’ll deal with you every single day until I run out of days if the universe allows it.” You were already highly confused. And your cheeks were turning pink without permission, although you had to think back to when he exactly said that; pinpointing exactly what he was talking about. You never paid attention to his words then, too focused on trying to get him out of there. “Mark, why are you-“ “Shh. My turn.” He shushed you, his lips curving upwards. Something only you would notice. “You see, I don’t have to deal with you. I have to deal with myself when I’m around you. I feel like I have to control myself when I’m around you. I have to stop myself from approaching guys who stare at you too long or flirt with you. I have to stop myself from staring at your legs or grabbing your thighs, or hell-“ he breathed out- “even kissing you. Which happens way more often than I’d like to admit, by the way.” You could feel the heat crawl up your neck to the tips of your ears as he continued talking, the tint of your face darkening. Your heart was fluttering non-stop. “I feel like I need to remind myself to breath when I’m with you. And I’m around you all the time, so I’m constantly out of breath, Y/N. And I know why I feel like this.” “Mark- you really need-“ You tried again, though you had no idea what you’d actually say if he stopped talking. He rolled his eyes before pulling you into his lap and biting your ear playfully. “God, you’re so cute. Anyways, I’m trying to confess my love to you and you keep distracting me.” He could feel your breath hitch. You could feel your heartbeat in your ears. “It’s not a confession. You must know by now. If you didn’t think so, I don’t know what to say. I am an asshole, but I am an asshole who is madly in love with you. And on the off chance that I’ve possibly misread everything, you are madly in love with me too. I’m sick of dancing around this with you. I need you, Y/N. I don’t care if you don’t need me, but I need you to let me love you- to let me be in love with you- properly, openly. Can you do that?” A wave of silence flooded the room as you tightened your grip on him. “I can do that.” He let out a breath he didn’t know he was holding. He kissed behind your ear and nuzzled into the crook of your neck. “God, I love you so much.” You were grinning before you spoke; smile mirroring the day in December when he finally let you put the lights up. “I love you too.” Another moment of silence. It was the same comfortable silence that you were accustomed to. But this time, something felt different. Something felt free. “By the way, never wear that dress again.” He said, letting out a shaky laugh. “I thought it looked nice.” You frowned; “It did-“ he hugged you tighter and paused; “Too nice, baby. Too nice.” ~~~~~

The end <3 // This is my first fic everyone! -Z

#mark tuan #mark tuan fanfic #mark tuan fluff #got7 #got7 mark #mark tuan imagines #mark tuan imagine #got7 imagines #first fic #!!!!!!!

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perpetually-jungshook · 7 years

Text

How to Change a Fuqboi (Namjoon)

Word Count: 2,967

Loosely inspired by the song “Fuqboi” by Hey Violet

Rated M (language and suggestive content)

How To Change A Fuqboi

Volume 1: Happenstance (Jungkook) Volume 2: For-Getting His Attention (Jimin) Volume 3: Bonding and Binding (Taehyung) Volume 4: One and Done (Yoongi) Volume 5: Unintentional Liar (Seokjin) Volume 6: To Be Loved (Namjoon) Volume 7: Checklist (Hoseok)

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

Step 1) Do NOT engage- WAIT ARE YOU SERIOUSLY STILL HERE?

Have you REALLY not learned your lesson? After five volumes, FIVE, WHY are you STILL confused on this topic? What else can I SAY about it? FOR FUCK’S SAKE I’VE EVEN TAUGHT YOU HOW TO AVOID FUCKBOYS. And you seemed to be doing so well too…

Are you just here for the angst? FINE! Bet your bottom dollar, euro, yen, won, or whatever currency you use…I’ll give you angst.

You stare at the cart full of clothes that you know will eventually have to go back out on the sales floor, dismay, irritation, and hatred for your job pumping through your veins like blood itself. There’s supposed to be an item limit per dressing room, but does anyone ever enforce or adhere to it? Nope.

Of course not.

You let out a heavy sigh, resting your hand on the first hanger of many. The least you could do would be to start sorting- yeah, now sounds like a great time for a break.

“Minji,” you call out as soon as you see her, texting behind a display of graphic tees, “Can you do me a favor and cover my calls?”

“Ah babe, you know I love you and you know I would, but I was just about to go too… HEY! Let’s go on break together!” she weaves her way into the aisle to give you a hug.

“Yeah, sounds good,” you smile, running your fingers affectionately through her hair as she crushes you. Dumping the responsibility of your calls onto the woman in the men’s department, both you and Minji make your way to the break room, spending your meager fifteen minutes catching up and hastily scarfing down food.

Just as you manage to find the bottom of your cup-noodles and Minji’s tone indicates she’s nearing the end of her “this one douchebag almost ran me over” story, the door opens behind you.

“Oh, hello! Well, if it isn’t my two favorite ladies!” his deep voice is one you easily recognize and despite its smooth nature, it grates on your nerves immediately.

Minji’s expression brightens, but as soon as she sees you stiffen, there’s a subtle change in her body language. You’re simply too distraught to read it.

She reaches across the table and grabs one of your hands, but addresses Namjoon over your shoulder, “Yah! Ladies? What are you calling me? An ajumma?”

“Aigo! No!” laughter laces his undertones, making your lip twitch in annoyance. “Did you want me to call you ‘girls’ instead?”

“You’re younger than both of us!” Minji teases, throwing a crumpled napkin in his direction. “I expect some respect around here!”

“Yes sunbae,” Namjoon sounds more amused than anything, “Noona, why are YOU so quiet?”

You bristle at the honorific, standing, “Minji, we should go back.”

“Do we really have to?” she sighs, pouting as you throw away the trash from both meals.

“Yeah, we’re being paid to be professional,” you chastise humorously, purposefully angling your body away from Namjoon so you don’t have to look at him.

Minji laughs, “Wait what? No one told ME we were getting paid.”

You force a giggle, “C’mon kiddo, back to work.”

“Yes unnie,” she stresses the unnecessary honorific with a roll of her eyes, “Or maybe I should start calling you EOMMA.”

After sending a wink her way, both of you burst out in genuine laughter while making your way toward the door. You’re almost in the clear, away from the pinnacle of your stress, but you can still hear him, ultimately confused and hurt because of your lack of acknowledgment, whisper:

“Noona…?”

As soon as Minji and you are alone, well as alone as two people can be in a department store full of customers, she turns to you and whispers, “I don’t know what’s wrong, but you looked upset at him. Is everything okay?”

“It’s nothing,” you shrug, trying very hard to maintain her gaze.

Her eyes tell you that she knows you’re lying, but she only replies with, “Alright, you know you can talk to me, babe.”

You nod, grateful, and go your separate ways.

It’s true, you’ve been avoiding Namjoon like the plague since you found out what he did. And the funny thing is, technically, you weren’t even supposed to be involved in the first place.

From the moment you met him, you had been completely infatuated with him. His height and muscular build lent to a stoic image, but the most prominent feature of his person definitely had to be his smile in all its dimpled glory. It gave him a softness, a friendliness, an approachable quality that the customers (and in turn the store manager) loved. And it didn’t stop there.

Namjoon genuinely cared about people. He never missed an opportunity to make someone laugh; he was shy, blushing at everything, yet confident enough to strike up a conversation with whomever he wanted; and best of all, he cared about YOU.

He remembered small things from prior conversations, sought out your company during “team huddles” in which the supervisor went over things like sales statistic, but most importantly, he called you “noona,” a title he had not yet bestowed upon anyone else in the store and you were so in love it hurt.

But then he fucked your friend.

Oddly enough, you aren’t furious at him for doing that. He’s an adult, so he can do whatever he wants in his spare time. See? It’s not like you’re NOT a generous, forgiving person.

People are human, they make mistakes, and should be forgiven as long as they learn from them.

However, Namjoon crossed a very specific, hard line BECAUSE of his actions and you don’t know if you’re quite ready to forgive him.

Side Note: This is where I should be congratulating you on a job well done. You’ve paid attention to red flags, you’ve come to terms with what kind of person he is, and have stuck firmly behind your moral line. But for some reason, I feel like you’re not getting the point. You’re still friends with him and possibly infected with this nasty little parasite called “hope.”

It was two weeks ago, when he first approached you about the issue. You had been hidden amongst a line of displays, dutifully folding shirts when you spotted his familiar figure approaching.

“Noona,” he greeted you quietly, conspiratorially, knowing that he shouldn’t be talking to you while you’re on the clock and he’s not. “Hello.”

“Hey,” you blushed, trying to remember your recent resolution think of him platonically because, no matter how delusional you are, you know he never did and still doesn’t like you romantically. “What are you doing here?”

“I was just looking for a pair of dress shoes, but I heard you were working so I thought I’d come find you,” he beamed, taking a seat at the base of the display. “How’s life?”

“Alright,” you shrugged, shoving a newly folded shirt on top of the over-stuffed pile of its comrades. “Still hate my job. Still painfully single. What about you? Doing okay?”

At first, Namjoon looked like he was going to respond with a socially acceptable “yeah everything’s great” or something of the sort. However, at that point, it was common knowledge that he trusted you. As he should.

“Being honest, I’m a little conflicted,” he ran his fingers through his hair, “Can I-? Noona, can I ask you a question about relationships?”

Smothering a laugh, you picked up the next shirt to avoid eye contact, “Well, considering I’m the LEAST qualified person for that type of question…”

“Okay, so you haven’t been in a ton of relationships-”

“I’ve been in one.”

“So you’ve only been in ONE relationship. Noona, you’re good with people and introspection.”

You basked in the compliment, “Fair point. What’s bothering you?”

Namjoon sighed deeply, closing his eyes, “You know Gyuri?”

“Yeah, she works in kids,” you continued folding, unsure about where this was going. Was he going to break your heart again? Granted, Namjoon never knew about the first time so it’s not really his fault. You just found out he had a girlfriend and decided to smother your feelings. Even when they broke up… you knew it would never work.

“You’re friends with her, right?”

“Kind of,” you admitted, “But we’re not super close. She’s nice, but we’ve never hung out.”

Namjoon cleared his throat awkwardly, “Well, Gyuri said she likes me.”

“Oh?” the sound left your mouth before you could stop it. Your recovery was less than eloquent, but it had to be fast, “That’s… interesting.”

“But see, I’m not sure if I want to date her,” he leaned his head back, trapping your gaze as you paused mid-fold.

You let out a low, thoughtful hum, “Because I am the queen of unsolicited advice, do you want to know what I have to say? Or do you just need to vent?”

He chuckled, “I’m the one who asked, advise away.”

“Technically, hon, you haven’t ASKED anything,” you smiled, giving his shoulder a playful slap, inadvertently letting go of the shirt and causing it to fall open again. You continued as you fixed your error, “But here’s my question to you. Do YOU like HER?”

Namjoon blanched slightly, eyebrows knitting, “I don’t know.”

“You don’t know?”

“I… never really asked myself that. I just date people who want to date me.”

His words sent a sharp needle through your heart, namely because you COULD have fallen under that category. Whether or not the pain comes from the failure of his spoken, self-fulfilling prophecy or just the fact that Gyuri is a possibility OVER you, you’re not sure.

“Joonie,” you sighed, rubbing at your temples, “Do you like her? It’s a yes or no question you HAVE to answer.”

“I don’t think so-”

“Namjoon!”

“No! I don’t, araso? Like you said, she’s nice. But she smokes and drinks and I’m just not into that kind of thing,” he pulled his knees closer to his chest, a subconscious effort to make himself smaller, “But what do I tell her? We’re friends too and I don’t want to lose that.”

Again, something pricked in your chest, but you ignored it, “Gyuri will probably understand if you tell her you’re not ready for another relationship so soon.”

For some reason, he laughed, “I don’t think she will.”

You didn’t understand what he meant at the time, but now you do. You understand ALL too well. Namjoon LIED to you-

Kind of.

Side Note: He lied by omission. He made you believe HE was the VICTIM, but eventually you had the displeasure of finding out how WRONG your impression of him had been.

You spend your lunch alone, staring at messages you’ve already read and pictures you’ve already seen. There has to be SOME way to free up about a gigabyte of storage…

The break room smells vaguely of burnt toast and kimchi, an awful combination, but hey, both you and I know it’s not the worst this place has ever reeked. A variety show plays in the background, keeping you out of pure silence, but by no means does it obscure the sound of the door opening.

You look up, prepared to greet the person who enters, but instead of a smile, your entire body stiffens from the force of a grimace.

Before Namjoon sees you, you force a neutral expression, compressing, repressing the anger that builds inside like rising steam pressure. You need to leave the room before you burst.

“Noona,” his expression instantly relaxes into a smile, “Are you on lunch?”

You get out of your seat, gaze locking on the time clock. All you have to do is punch in your I.D. number and you can flee back to the sales floor, running from this problem just like everything else. But of course he has to get in your way.

“Are you alright?” he asks, probably referring to your silence, walking around the table toward you.

“Yeah,” your reply is tart, something that Namjoon catches onto immediately because he opens his arms for a “comforting” embrace.

Usually, you would’ve jumped at the opportunity to be physically close, but how can you trust him? With anything? What happened between Gyuri and him is THEIR problem. I agree that you shouldn’t let it impact your friendship with him. She doesn’t need to be defended. They are both adults and made their own choices.

But then you found out about what happened with his ex girlfriend, how he had slept with Gyuri DAYS after they had broken up. And it’s not just that, but yesterday your coworker, one of your best friends, Eunsook, told you about the messages Namjoon had been sending her; the fact that he had showed up at her house at two in the morning to pester her until she answered the door; and after she got in the car with him, he had tried to convince her to give him a blowjob.

All the while dodging Gyuri and in the process of making up with his ex.

And he played the VICTIM card. The FUCKING victim card.

“If you’re upset-” his sentence gets cut off as his arms start to close around your frame, your hand coming up to rest a stiff centimeter from his chest.

“Not now,” the words are clipped, harsh, and cause him to instinctively take a step away to let you go.

“Noona, what’s wrong?”

“I’m fine.”

“Are you-?”

“I’m FINE.”

You punch out and walk back onto the floor, practically steaming. At least all of that built up anger could now come out in a scalding, pressurized hiss of metaphorical water vapor.

Ultimately, you’re not sure whether you’re angry at Namjoon for being such a fuckboy or yourself for falling for it. And on top of that, though you’d never admit it, at least half of this red hot rage comes from the burning question: why aren’t YOU good enough for him…?

By the time your shift is over, one hour before the store closes, you’ve cooled down enough to know that what you did was wrong. You shouldn’t have snapped. Granted, this does not dismiss what he did, but the fact that he took advantage of your kindness gave you no right to snap at him for what he probably perceived as “no reason.”

Your feet feel heavy as you make your way toward the exit, like dragging stones behind you with every step. You can see his head just above the shoe displays. He’s focused on straightening boxes and has no idea you’re approaching until you’re directly behind him.

“Noona!” he startles, jumping away and holding up his hands as if you’re a cornered animal he’s trying to sooth.

“Namjoon,” you take a deep breath, steadying yourself, “I just want to say I’m sorry for earlier.”

These words have an immediate impact on him, his shoulders relaxing, his lips sliding into a relieved smile, “It’s alright! I thought you were mad at me-”

“I AM mad at you.”

“Oh?” the sound he lets out is short, surprised, and SCARED, “Noona, did I do something wrong?”

“This is not the time to talk about it. Not while you’re on the clock,” you warn him sternly. “I simply wanted to say that what I did earlier was immature and unwarranted. I shouldn’t have snapped.”

“Oh-okay,” he nods, eyes wide. “Can you at least tell me what happened? I almost cried after you left and…”

“Cried?”

You’re taken aback, unsure whether or not to believe him.

“Yeah, just ask Minji,” he laughs, scratching at the back of his neck, “It was really embarrassing.”

This jolt of hope that he actually cares about you stings more than his indirect rejections.

You loved him so much that it HURT. But now that you know what he really is, a stupid closet fuckboy, one that hides his true self from others, maybe even himself… it’s difficult to even keep his gaze.

“We’ll talk later, Namjoon,” you start backing away, attention dropping to his feet.

“Noona, whatever I did, I’m sorry-”

“Later,” the affirmation, the hurried promise is shouted as you turn away, sights fixed on the door.

Apparently, he has other ideas.

Namjoon’s long fingers wrap around your wrist and before you can fight the hold, he pulls you against his chest. You only struggle for a moment before he lets you break the embrace and you manage to leave the store without exchanging another word.

He gave you an apology. Did you… not want it?

Once you’re in the safety of your car, the dark night weighing down upon you, a blanket only broken by the harsh beams of street lamps and the sterile glow of the department store sign, you let yourself collapse. Forehead against the steering wheel, your shoulders begin to shake, but you refuse to let the tears break through your defenses.

You won’t give him the satisfaction, not even when he can’t see it.

Do you understand now? Over and over I’ve presented scenarios, lessons hidden under the guise of satire, behind the mask of a compromised “victory.” This is a battle in which everyone will always lose. I’ve been trying to get you out of these situations as painlessly as possible.

But I am losing steam and running out of excuses. Please, love yourself as much as I love you, dearest reader. And do NOT give them the satisfaction of breaking your heart.

You want to forgive Namjoon. You really do, but each time you blink, you only see the ugly scars he’s left behind.

End Note: Sometimes, the only thing you must consider is…does he even deserve to change?

✩✩✩♔✩✩✩

A/N: Well... that took a sadder turn than I expected. Whoops.

EOPQ 2: What kind of fuckboy do you think Hobi will be hmm? 😉

Send me your thoughts here. Or just come say hi ;) feedback is appreciated

Support me/Donate and get some super rad 😎 rewards

Much love ~🐰 xx

#bts #bts fanfic #bts fanfiction #namjoon #rap monster #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fanfiction #rap monster fanfic #rap monster fanfiction #fuckboy namjoon #fuckboy rap monster #bts au #alternate universe #how to change a fuqboi

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hookedonapirate · 7 years

Text

CSJJ Day 23: Unexpected

Hello there, lovely shipmates! This is my submission for @csjanuaryjoy based on the prompt, “I don’t know how to say this, love, but I think you’re pregnant.” This turned out to have a bit more angst than I had originally intended and there is a very brief mention of fatal pregnancy complications but I promise there is a happy ending. Thanks so much for including me! I very much enjoyed being apart of this.

Rating: M

Word Count: 5,360

AO3 FF.net

~*~

Doctor Killian Jones didn’t like to brag. Okay, he did like to brag. He was a talented OBGYN and he very well knew it. Driven and focused as a young lad, he was determined to be successful in his career. His social life. Everything he did.

Everything he wanted, he had. Including the gorgeous, green-eyed pediatrician he currently had pressed firmly against the wall. Emma Swan had enchanted him the moment he laid his eyes on her and from then on he was determined to have her. She had put up a damn good fight, but he always did love a challenge.

Emma’s head was tilted back, allowing him access to her neck as she scrubbed her fingers through his hair. His lips invaded the expanse of her skin, bites and licks that left marks. She moaned softly as his hands slipped under her scrub top and roamed her body, his fingers aching to touch her most intimate places.

“Should we be-?” Her words turned into a breathy moan as he found her hips with his strong hands, giving her a light thrust. She gasped, feeling the hard erection through the thin, cotton material of his pants. Her mind was too frazzled and clouded with lust to think straight or finish her question. His mouth and hands and delicious weight of his toned body against hers drove her crazy like he always did.

A dazzling smile spread across his lips against her neck before he lifted his head to look at her, his eyes lighting up with amusement. “No, but when has the hospital rules ever stopped us before, love?” His voice was dripping with pure sin, the sound of his British accent settling deep inside her belly as he bent his head down to kiss her neck again.

Her eyes fluttered shut as she felt all of the sensations he was offering. He was hard against her center, his lips were greedy as they set her skin ablaze and his hands eagerly pushed up her shirt and bra to cup and massage her breasts. He tweaked her nipples between his index finger and thumb as he growled into the crook of her neck.

Killian’s left palm painfully drifted from her breast, leaving her whining from the loss. However, he made up for it when he lowered his hand and pulled on the string of her scrub bottoms to loosen them before his fingers slipped inside and underneath her panties, finding her wonderfully aching sex. Her skin was ever so delicate and smooth; his fingertips glided easily to the area that awaited him below.

“Fuck,” he groaned and his knees almost buckled underneath him when he felt how wet she was. His fingers were coated in her nectar as they dipped into her folds.

She moaned as he worked his magic on her, his fingers pumping inside of her warmth and flicking over her clit. She gave up trying to hold back the pleasure he gave her long ago. When they first started engaging in their little trysts in unoccupied rooms at the hospital she hated the idea of giving him the satisfaction of knowing he was good at what he did. Very good. In fact when they first met six months ago after finishing their residencies and transferring to Storybrooke, she hated the cocky bastard. And he knew exactly how to rub her the wrong way. But very quickly, he discovered how to rub her in all of the right ways.

“Killian, please… we don’t have much time,” she breathed, her voiced wrecked and pleading. Her underwear was soaked with arousal and she didn’t know how much longer she could wait to have him.

“Patience my darling. No one will interrupt us,” he assured her, his tone husky with desire before he lowered his head to suck on her nipples. He methodically gave the residents tedious tasks to keep them occupied. He was never one for quickies with Emma in the supply closet at the hospital (he’d much preferred to take his time with her in his bed) but when he saw her wearing her scrubs and taking control of her residents like the demanding attending that she was, he was always unbelievably turned on.

He gave one last suck and a gentle tug with his teeth before he released her erect nipple and lifted his head to find her lips, causing the back of her head to find balance against the wall behind her. He sighed a low and needy sound as his tongue invaded her mouth and that was her undoing. His fingers pumped into her hard and fast, hitting just the right spot as his thumb brushed her clit. She let an embarrassingly loud moan escape her as her orgasm crashed over her.

She gathered her strength and ran the flat of her palm across his chest, feeling the thin hair showing over the top of his v-neck as he removed his hand and grabbed her hips. Her fingers dragged along his shirt and her thumb skimmed over his nipple as her other hand kept a tight grip on his waist, keeping him anchored into her.

At first, it had just been about the sex with Killian. It was exciting and had unlocked things inside of her that had been desperately begging to break free. She loved how he made her feel with his lips, his hands, the treasure that she was itching to have inside of her now. She was able to get past the cocky, bravado attitude and convinced herself that there was no harm in having a little fun. A few moments of pleasure and bliss to help her get through the exhausting pressures and frustrations that devolved as a result of the poor parenting skills that she dealt with on almost a daily basis with her young patients. A few moments of mind-blowing pleasure in the sack made her forget about her past; being abandoned on the side of the road as a newborn baby, being thrown into the foster system, being hurt by her first love and being left with a huge, gaping scar. Literally. She was left abandoned once again and pregnant at the age of seventeen and she had a cesarean performed to deliver her stillborn baby because he was in a breech position. She was broken into a million pieces and swore off having children and any type of romantic relationship after that. She stayed focused on getting herself through college and medical school. And her plan had worked flawlessly… until the blue-eyed attending entered her life and turned her whole world upside down. She had hoped she could keep her heart immune during their encounters but he had slowly crept in and took down her walls. She soon found herself confiding in him about the loss of her baby and he somewhat understood, although no could really understand something like that unless they actually experienced it themselves, but since he was an OBGYN, he’d come across such circumstances with his patients. Their relationship had escalated into something more meaningful, as much as she tried to fight it. He had taken her on dates and she enjoyed being treated with respect and like she actually meant something to someone. Although, she would never tell him that.

She broke the kiss, leaving them both a panting mess and she started dragging her swollen lips down his neck as her hand continued it’s quest and found the bulge in his pants. He groaned as her lips sucked on the skin of his neck and the moment she started stroking him over his pants, he was a goner.

“Emma…” There was a low rumble in his voice as he tried to find the strength to stop her but she knew exactly how to unravel him. Somehow he managed to grab her hands, pressing them against the wall. “Gods, I want you…” His breath was ragged against her ear and she shuddered in anticipation.

“I’m all yours,” she whispered as her lips ghosted over his. His impossibly blue eyes gazed into hers and she lost a breath. He smashed his lips into hers, kissing her deeply as he pulled her sharply against him. Before things went any further, he tore his lips away and caught his breath.

She gave him a questioning look. “Love, have you been taking the birth-control pills I gave you?”

She nodded. “Yeah, of course,” she replied, eying his lips as she licked her own.

“Everyday?”

She moaned in complaint, the desire built up so high inside of her, she was about to burst, but still she pondered the question before answering.

“Love?”

Her eyes reverted to his and she didn’t know why he was being so insistent. Was the thought of having a baby with her so horrible? “Yes!” she shouted impatiently.

He reluctantly accepted her answer. He knew how she felt about never wanting to get pregnant again and he would never forgive himself if he accidentally knocked her up, causing her to resent him for it. He was hoping someday, she would feel differently though, even if they ended up apart and she had children with someone else. As much as he hated the idea, he cared about her and only wanted her to be happy.

“Please just… fuck me,” she begged in a throaty whisper.

He groaned and promptly hooked his fingers under her pants and underwear, yanking them down and removing them from her legs along with her shoes before she shoved his pants down, letting them fall to his ankles as she grabbed his stiff member and started stroking softly, feeeling the thick weight in her hand.

He grabbed the back of her thighs and lifted her up, sweeping her legs around his hips. Her back was anchored into the wall and she let out a small gasp as he rocked his hips into her touch. She lined him up to her entrance, letting her arousal coat his velvety tip and he gave a few experimental thrusts. She released him and clutched onto his shoulders as he took claim on every inch of her aching walls. They both groaned and he captured her lips as he plunged into her, slow at first.

She encouraged his movements with soft moans that he swallowed as his tongue roamed her mouth. His body held her weight against the wall as his hands drifted across her thighs and grabbed her ass. They broke this kiss, gasping for air and threw moans with every thrust as he picked up the pace and took her as deep as he could.

His feelings for this woman enveloped him. He had fallen head over heels for her, although he’d never said it yet. He was afraid he might scare her off, so he kept it to himself.

They both found their release in unison and struggled to catch their breaths as he rested his head into the crook of her neck. He left featherlight kisses to her shoulders before slowly slipping out of her and lowering her so her feet could find the floor.

His hands gripped her hips as he got caught up in her warmth, her smell, her golden locks tickling his nose. He wasn’t ready to let her go yet. In fact he didn’t ever want to let her go.

“I love you.”

Emma immediately stiffened. “You what?”

Oh gods, did he really just say that out loud? The words had flown out of his mouth before he knew he was even speaking. He lifted his head to face her and cupped her cheeks in his hand, his thumb gently brushing over her skin. Her eyes met his and that’s when he saw the fear in her vast, green depths. The heavy hold she had on him apparently rendered him useless. He couldn’t speak or even move for a minute.

“Love, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have-” he finally managed.

“No, you can’t just take it back,” she said rather bitterly as she pushed him away. She bent over and gathered her pants and underwear, pulling them on before putting on her shoes.

Killian’s face fell in bewilderment as he watched her while he pulled up his own pants and tied the strings of his scrub bottoms, fumbling for an excuse. “Love, please… we just had sex… and my brain is in a state of euphoria…. I didn’t mean it…”

She scoffed. “Nice try, but I don’t buy it. You very well meant it.”

“Can we at least talk about this?”

Emma looked up at him from her task, speaking in a brisk tone. “I have to get back to work.” With both of her tennis shoes on her feet, she headed for the door as he called after her.

“Can I see you later tonight then?” He asked, a pleading and hopeful look in his eyes.

She paused and turned to face him as her hand found the doorknob, her eyes devoid of any emotion. “I can’t do this, I’m sorry.” With that, she opened the door and disappeared into the corridor, leaving his heart aching in his chest.

~*~

“Can you zip this up for me?”

“Of course.”

Emma’s stomach was full of butterflies as she looked in the mirror while Mary Margaret zipped up her red dress and the material snugly fit her body. When Emma’s roommate was finished she moved to stand in front of her and a bright smile formed across her lips.

“How do I look?”

“Just beautiful, Emma.”

“Thanks.” She gave Mary Margaret a weak smile before they gathered their purses and put on their jackets, heading for the door. “Do you think Killian will be there?” she asked as they got in her car.

“I’m not sure. David said you hurt him pretty badly so I don’t think he’ll show.”

Emma’s gut twisted with guilt. She never wanted to hurt him. She never wanted things to end the way they did. It had been six weeks since she had ran out of the storage closet. Six. Miserable. Weeks.

“Sorry, I shouldn’t have brought it up,” Mary Margaret apologized, pulling Emma from her thoughts. She must have seen the regret in Emma’s eyes even though she was facing the road, focused on driving.

“It’s okay. I deserve that.”

Emma had spent those weeks avoiding him at all costs and even transferred to another hospital. She just couldn’t face him after breaking up with him the way she did. He told her he loved her and she ran. God, she was an idiot. He was the only person who’s ever told her that and actually meant it. She had sensed the sincerity in his eyes. That’s when she fled for dear life.

They reached the New Year’s Eve party at Ruby’s house and got out of the car and walked up to it. There was music playing as Ruby greeted them at the door, letting them in. They took off their coats and Ruby took them into one of the designated bedrooms as Emma’s eyes searched the room. She let out a long breath, relieved when she didn’t see Killian. David came up and greeted her and Mary Margaret and they conversed for a while. Killian’s name never came up and she was grateful for it.

The evening dragged on slowly and it didn’t help that she was feeling a bit nauseous after snacking on some hor d’oeuvres. The smell alone of the chicken made her want to vomit. And she was ready to go home. She didn’t have anyone to kiss at midnight so why even bother staying? She showed up and socialized. Mary Margaret would probably end up going home with David anyways.

It was an hour before midnight when Emma turned around, heading for the door but ran smack dab into someone. Apologies spilled from her lips as she looked up. Her face went even more pale than she felt and she gulped thickly.

“Sorry, lass-”

“Killian?”

He lifted his head and his eyes found hers. “Emma…” He searched her eyes and scanned her face, and she suddenly felt insecure under his scrutiny. Did she really look as horrible as she felt?

Killian, however, looked impossibly handsome, apart from the wreckage and pain lingering in his eyes.

“Hi,” she said quietly and suddenly felt the urge to drink, uneasy stomach or not. She decided that the alcohol would help her upchuck whatever she ate that didn’t sit well in her belly,

“Hi, love. You feeling alright?”

“Is it that obvious?” she asked with a weak laugh. “Just a tip, don’t eat the chicken.”

Killian’s eyes widened, as if a wave of realization hit him with a jolt. Emma decided to ignore him, the need for alcohol a desperate one as she turned around and headed for the champagne.

“Emma…” He called as he followed behind her. “Can we talk?”

She continued through the crowd of people and approached the bar counter. She grabbed a flute and started to bring it to her lips before it was snatched away from her, leaving her hands lingering in the air. “What the hell?”

“That’s probably not a good idea, love,” he informed her and cleared his throat. “Alcohol’s not good for you.”

“Thanks for the tip, genius.” She looked at him and scoffed. “What are you, my father?” she asked sarcastically before grabbing another glass of Champagne. She quickly turned around, heading for the balcony doors before he could take this one away. She needed some fresh air anyway.

“Emma, please,” he pleaded, setting the champagne down and going after her as she made her way through the crowd. She reached the sliding door and opened it, stepping into the cold, bitter air. She didn’t even think to get her jacket and was quickly regretting it. “Here, take this.”

“That’s okay,” she mumbled, her teeth clattering as she felt the brisk air shoot through her spine. She was still holding the glass of champagne and she knew he would take it if she accepted the jacket. She walked away from him and reached the balcony railing.

“Love, you’re going to freeze to death out here.”

She ignored him and tried another attempt at her drink, lifting it to her lips. He promptly tore it from her hands and threw the contents of the glass over the railing.

Her eyes blew wide and she started to get furious. “Seriously?! What is your deal?!”

“Would you take my jacket, please?” he asked as he set the empty glass down, chucked off his jacket and helped her into it. She accepted it reluctantly, but only because it felt so warm and smelled like him. She looked away from him over the balcony as she shoved her hands in the pockets to warm her fingers. “Won’t you be cold?” She asked him.

“I’m fine, I’m wearing a sweater.”

She didn’t even look to see if it was true. “Look, if you came out here to talk, I have nothing to say,” she lied. She had plenty to say, she just wasn’t brave enough to.

“Please, Emma. Can we just go back to how things were before I said those three bleedin’ words. I never meant to scare you off or put any pressure on you, I just…”

She looked over at him and saw the gutted expression on his face and the pleading look in his eyes. Her heart ached in her chest. She hated this. She hated how she had ended things. That she had ended things. She didn’t even realize how much she had missed him or how much she cared for him until she had seen him again after being apart for six weeks. She missed him so much it hurt. She already knew that before, she just hadn’t realized how painful it actually was until now. “No.” Her voice was soft and quiet but she knew what she wanted. She had just been too afraid to say it.

Disappointment flashed in his eyes as he studied her briefly. “Got it, love. I won’t bother you any more.” He turned and headed to the balcony door. He had another issue to discuss with her, but she was a big girl who could figure things out herself.

He approached the door and lifted his hand to open it but was caught off guard when she placed her hand on his to stop him.

“I don’t want to go back to the way things were.”

He slowly turned his head to look at her, his brow arching in confusion.

“Because I love you too.” Her voice was strangled as her breath dissipated into the air but her words were unmistakable.

“You what?”

Her eyes were glossy with unshed tears as she managed a laugh. “I love you, Killian.”

Without saying a word, he lunged towards her and lifted his hands to her cheeks, bringing her lips to his. Their mouths didn’t move and were pressed against one another as though they were reveling in the moment and capturing it to make it last.

She felt relief swarm through her from releasing such a burden from her shoulders.

“I have known for a while, I was just too afraid to say it before,” she breathed after they broke the kiss, their lips still lingering over the other as she pressed her forehead against his. “I was too afraid to admit that what we had was so much more than…”

“Just amazing sex?” he finished with an adorable smirk that made her laugh.

“Yes. I’m so sorry.”

He shook his head to put her at ease. “It’s my fault. I knew you weren’t ready to hear those words. But I promise you, the future is nothing to be afraid of,” he said with an encouraging smile, excitement dancing in his eyes, although they still had another matter to discuss and he didn’t how well she was going to take it. He pulled away slightly, taking her hands in his. He drew in an unsteady breath as he tried to gather his thoughts. He wasn’t sure how he was going to break the news to her.

Emma gave him a questioning look. “Killian? What is it?”

“Can I ask you something, love?”

She lifted a curious brow. “Okay…”

He released her and approached the railing, resting his hands atop of it. “Emma… when’s the last time you had your period?”

She laughed. “I know you’re an OBGYN but can’t I keep some things about my body a secret?” She asked, but the question made her think as she stood next to him and rested her elbows on the railing.

He turned to look at her and waited for it to dawn on her.

She couldn’t remember having a period for- Emma did some calculations in her head and then her eyes averted to his, a dazed look settling across her features.

“I don’t know how to say this, love, but I think you’re pregnant.”

He tried to hide the smile from his lips, but he didn’t want to get his hopes up. They had not seen each other for weeks. Anything could have happened during that time, besides the obvious. He had sensed the changes in her body the moment he had laid eyes on her after he walked through the door.

“No, I’m not. I can’t be,” she argued. Her period was late but she was on birth control.

“Love, would I tell you if I wasn’t sure? I mean, I think you should take a test to confirm but I’m never wrong about these things,” he boasted.

Her mouth had fallen agape as she turned away from him again and looked off into the dark sky. “But how?”

“Have you stopped taking your pills?”

She shook her head. “No.”

“You’ve been taking them every day?”

She nodded, her eyes still glazed over in disbelief. “Yeah.” Her mind drifted to the last couple of months and she knew that she had taken them everyday- or almost everyday. She may have missed a couple of days. She wasn’t perfect and had a very busy schedule to remembe things like taking a pill at the same time everyday. She thought back to the last day she had been with Killian and the one before and could not recall taking them. “I may have missed a couple of days here and there,” she murmured.

“Well, there you have it. The pills don’t always work properly if you don’t take them consistently.” He had told her this time and time again. “Was it um..?” he started as he scratched nervously behind his ear. He really didn’t want to ask the question that had been eating away at him since he found out she was pregnant.

She must have sensed his uncertainty because she turned to look at him. “It didn’t happen when we were apart,” she confirmed.

He expelled a breath of relief. “So um, the baby’s-?”

“Yours. I haven’t been with anyone since you.”

A smile threatened to take over his lips at that as his eyes drifted to the ground. “Emma, I know that this is not what you wanted to find out after we just got back together but-”

“I want this.”

Killian was stunned as his eyes darted to hers. “You do?”

She smiled, her eyes filling with tears again. “I have a second chance to be a mother.” A tear escaped and slipped down her cheek as she wiped it away. “You don’t know how many times I’ve thought about this moment… about finding out I’m pregnant again. And yes, I’m scared to death but-”

Killian stepped up to her and took her hands in his. “There’s no need to be scared, darling. I’ll be with you through it all. I’m not going anywhere,” he assured her.

She smiled and leaned in to kiss his lips. “You really want to do this with me?”

He looked at her as though she were crazy. “Of course. You really think I would leave after getting you back, especially when you’re carrying my child?”

“No, I just didn’t want to assume, I guess.”

He lifted his hand to brush her cheek. “I love you, Emma, and that’s not going to change.” He pulled her into his arms and held her close, kissing the top of her forehead. “Besides, between the two of us, the pregnancy, birth and the parenting will be a breeze,” he pointed out with a smirk. “If there’s one thing in life we can handle, it’s having a baby.”

She laughed. “You think being pregnant, going into labor and raising a child is a breeze, huh?”

He chuckled. “You know what I mean, love.”

“Yeah, I know what you mean, but I wouldn’t go spreading that around to your pregnant patients. You may not live to see your child,” she teased.

“Aye. I see your point.”

Emma rested her head on his chest and he just held her in his arms until he could no longer stand the bitterly cold air.

“Love…”

Emma lifted her head up at the sound of name. “Hmm?”

“Can we go inside now? I’m freezing.”

She laughed. “Okay.”

They both started for the door and went inside as he thought about how he couldn’t believe that he started this night as a miserable, heartbroken mess and now he would end it as a soon-to-be father with a girlfriend whom he loved with every inch of his beating heart.

After the party, they stopped at the twenty-four hour drug store and bought a couple of pregnancy tests because they couldn’t wait any longer to find out for sure and both of them confirmed that Killian was correct. Emma was pregnant.

~*~

Emma was sitting upright on her comfortably soft sofa in front of the fireplace, gazing down at the sleeping newborn baby in her arms. He looked just like his father; dark tufts of hair, sea-blue eyes. She stared at him in wonderment, a smile blooming across her lips at the little miracle that stirred in her arms while she ran her fingers through the light scruff of hair. After ten hours of hard labor with Killian by her side through the whole thing, the little guy finally decided to make his appearance into the world. She had been frightened the entire time, hoping and praying that she would hear the tiny wails from her child when he finally left her womb, and her heart all but leapt in her chest when she did; Aiden Lee Swan-Jones was born a healthy baby boy at six pounds, eight ounces. From that point forward, his crying was the best sound Emma could ever hear. It made her eyes wet with tears, it made her smile and it made her heart feel a little lighter every time she picked him up from his basinet. And she never wanted to let him go.

Aiden’s eyes blinked open and he reached out his tiny hands as his mouth opened, letting out a tiny cry. “I think the little lad’s hungry, love.” Emma nodded in agreement as Killian walked into the family room with a smile on his face. He had gone into the kitchen to fetch her a glass of water and set it on the coffee table before he joined her on the sofa and kissed her forehead.

Once settled into a more comfortable position, she loosened her tunic, pulling her left breast out of the opening. She shifted Aiden into her left arm, holding him close to her chest while grabbing her breast in the her right hand. Placing her nipple upon the infant’s mouth, one of her fingers rubbed the wee one’s cheek, encouraging him to latch on to her.

He was suckling in no time and was instantly calmed. Emma released her breast, letting her hand drop and reach beneath her baby’s blue onesie as she cradled him in her arms. Killian put his arm around her shoulder and watched in awe.

“I guess he was,” she laughed as he swept her golden locks behind her shoulder and pressed a feather-light kiss to her temple before looking down at their baby, a bit jealous of the little lad.

“When do I get a turn?” he whined playfully.

She lightly swatted his stomach. “The milk is for the baby.”

Killian stuck his bottom lip out in a pout. He always thoroughly enjoyed the sweet liquid that came from her breasts; he loved every part of her.

When Aiden was done feeding, Emma put away her breast and buttoned up her tunic. There was silence in the air besides the crackling from the fireplace as Killian pulled her closer in his arms and she rested her head on his shoulder.

“Are you happy, love?”

A wide smile spread across her lips as she looked up him, her green eyes sparkling with love for both of her boys. “Very happy. You?”

“Aye. I love you both very much.”

“Me too. I love our little family.”

She lowered her head back on his shoulder as he kissed the crown of her head through her hair. He couldn’t exactly express in words how happy he was, having his son and the mother of his child safe in his arms. It was something he had dreamt about since he found out she was pregnant. He didn’t even care that he had been right about that. Okay, maybe a little. He had even been right about the gender of their baby as well and they had playfully argued for months before they found out that he was indeed a boy.

“I hate to say that I was right about our little bundle of joy, but…”

She swatted his stomach again and laughed. “Don’t start.”

He chuckled and gently laid his head on hers, looking forward to many more moments just like this, to a future that just ten months ago he had never imagined was possible.

And to think, telling her she was pregnant was a breeze. Now he just had to figure how he was going to ask her to marry him.

#csjj #cs january joy #cs #cs ff #cs ff au #captain swan #cs baby

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lauramalchowblog · 4 years

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When Does Fasting Cross the Line?

A little while back, Mark posted an article about 14 scenarios in which intermittent fasting (IF) might be just the ticket. We got some requests for a follow-up about times when IF might not be advised.

Mark has already written about cautions for women and athletes specifically. I’ll link those at the bottom. More generally, it’s important that anyone considering IF make sure that they are in a good place physically and mentally to handle the additional stress of IF.

As Mark said:

If you haven’t satisfied the usual IF “pre-reqs,” like being fat-adapted, getting good and sufficient sleep, minimizing or mitigating stress, and exercising well (not too much and not too little), you should not fast. These pre-reqs are absolutely crucial and non-negotiable, in my opinion—especially the fat-adaptation. In fact, I suspect that if an IF study was performed on sugar-burning women versus fat-adapted women, you’d see that the fat-burning beasts would perform better and suffer fewer (if any) maladaptations.

Fasting is generally healthy when done properly. The same goes for exercise and carb restriction. These behaviors help many people; but they can also be unhealthy for certain people or when used too much or in the wrong circumstances.

Today I’d like to wade into potentially controversial waters and talk about when fasting potentially crosses the line into disordered eating territory.

Before You Get Defensive…

If you find yourself feeling defensive already because you enjoy fasting and think that I’m going to suggest that you have a problem, please hold off commenting until the end.

To be clear: I do not think that fasting is inherently disordered. However, its popularity has skyrocketed so rapidly, and its proponents are so enthusiastic, that the potential downsides have been overshadowed. Actually, that’s not entirely fair. I have seen plenty of people in mental health and disordered eating circles voice concerns. The ancestral community tends to be very rah-rah about fasting.

The goal for today is to shine a light on this issue so that we don’t go into fasting with a blind spot.

Eating Disorders vs. Disordered Eating

The prevalence of full-blown eating disorders (ED) is fairly low according to NEDA, the National Eating Disorders Association. Experts believe biological and/or psychological predispositions make certain individuals vulnerable. These predispositions probably interact with environmental factors to trigger ED.

That said, many more people engage in disordered eating behaviors. The behaviors and their effects are not problematic enough to qualify for diagnosis with ED, but they still negatively affect physical and/or mental health and quality of life. Depending on their severity, they might be considered suboptimal to truly unhealthy.

Before going any further, let me be clear: I’m not in any way trying to diagnose readers with ED or disordered eating. That is way beyond my pay grade. Nor should you self-diagnose. If you want to learn more or get help, the best place to start is with NEDA’s Help & Support center. They have an online screening tool and a helpline there.

As I said, I don’t think fasting is inherently bad. However, NEDA lists fasting among the behaviors that can be indicative of ED. Of course, professionals in the ED and mental health worlds are looking at fasting through the lens of restricting and exercising tight control over food intake. We in the ancestral health space tend to look at it through the lens of optimizing health.

Neither perspective is more correct. It’s all about context:

why you’re fasting,

how fasting makes you feel physically and mentally,

whether it takes over your life,

if you are using it in a way that is actually undermining your health,

whether you are taking it “too far” (admittedly a nebulous metric)

As with so many things, deciding if you’ve crossed the line is highly personal. This applies to much more than food. When does worry become anxiety? When does fear become a phobia?

One criteria might be whether fasting causes you distress. Another is whether it interferes with your quality of life, social relationships, and work. This is called the criteria of clinical significance in the DSM-V, the diagnostic tool used by mental health professionals.

It’s often apparent, though not always easy to accept, when a behavior is no longer serving us. Unfortunately, though, it’s not always that simple. When it comes to fasting, it can cross over into problematic territory and still feel good.

Wouldn’t I Know If My Fasting Regime Was Too Much?

Maybe, maybe not. Restricting calories and fasting can lead to elevated mood, increased energy and motivation, and even feelings of euphoria. (Fasting that doesn’t result in a caloric deficit might be less prone to this.)

There are physiological reasons why this might be the case. First, scientists hypothesize that this is an adaptive response. If you were truly starving, this increased energy, drive, and focus would help you redouble your efforts to find food.

There is also some evidence that food restriction affects serotonin and dopamine pathways and can, for some individuals, reduce anxiety. Researchers believe that this is one way anorexic behaviors are reinforced in the brain. Again, fasting and anorexia nervosa are NOT the same animal, but they can share common features. The “high” associated with anorexia nervosa sounds not unlike the profound energy and cognitive benefits that some people report with fasting.

All this is to say, food restriction can feel good. For some people—or more accurately, for some brains—the withholding of food becomes inherently rewarding. In that case, you wouldn’t necessarily recognize when enough is enough.

How Do You Know If You’ve Crossed the Line?

I’m not going to be able to provide a definitive answer here. That said, these seem like potential red flags:

Fasting makes you feel euphoric. That doesn’t necessarily mean it’s harmful by any means. Still, take a step back and evaluate whether you are always making healthy choices.

Your fasting regimen causes distress or significantly interferes with your life.

You feel like you have to fast or something bad will happen.

When you eat after a fast, you feel out of control with your food intake or binge.

You’re ignoring symptoms that might be related to too much fasting: adrenal or thyroid issues, fatigue, hair loss, weakness or inability to perform usual workouts, sleep disturbances, too much weight loss, etc.

Again, I am in no way diagnosing anyone here. If you think that perhaps your behavior has crossed into unhealthy territory, you should seek the counsel of someone trained in these issues.

The Bottom Line

Fasting, though it confers certain health benefits, is not good for every person. Experts recommend that individuals at risk for developing ED or with a history of ED refrain from fasting, including intermittent fasting, altogether. Even if you don’t think you’re at risk, it still might not be in your best interest.

Because fasting is so popular right now, some people think they have to fast for optimal health. They worry that they are missing out on tremendous health benefits if they can’t or don’t want to fast. The main reasons people fast are autophagy, glycemic control, and fat loss. You can achieve all of those goals through means other than fasting.

Remember, too, that you need not rigidly adhere to the same eating window every single day. It is fine to fast stochastically, to borrow from Paleo OG Art De Vany. You might also consider doing one longer fast a few times per year instead of daily intermittent fasting.

In any case, if fasting is wrong for you, it’s wrong for you, period. It doesn’t really matter if your neighbor loves it or the lady in the next cubicle lost 60 pounds with IF. If it negatively impacts your physical and/or mental well-being, it’s not worth it.

And in case this isn’t perfectly clear: Enjoying fasting DOES NOT MEAN that you are doing anything wrong. On the contrary, I hope you are enjoying fasting if it’s a tool you’re using regularly. Feeling great is the goal. If it’s not negatively affecting your physical health, psychological well-being, or social relationships, it’s not problematic. Likewise, if you are consuming enough calories when you do eat, and you’re able to be flexible with your fasting schedule when the situation calls for it, you likely don’t have to worry.

This issue can be hard to talk about because so many people feel passionately about defending their way of eating. Those who question whether fasting is always healthy, or who point out that a desire to eat healthfully can sometimes slip into orthorexia, are accused of “fit shaming.”

However, not talking about it isn’t the answer. Our goal should be to bring these issues into the light and try to better understand them. Then we can make informed decisions about which behaviors best serve us now and in the future.