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#actually decently happy with how this turned out!! It surprised me
tyrramint · 8 months
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Book Lucy drawing on the thinking cloth :)
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hangeswif3 · 4 months
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Somewhere safe
Pairing: Bonten!Rindou x Pregnant!reader
Warning: blood, mentions of pregnancy, cursing.
Summary: they needed a place to stay and just happens that Rindou knows someone who could help them.
Note: English isn’t my first language so be nice. I liked a lot how this turned out so maybe I could keep writing about Rindou’s little family. Anyways, I hope u like it and thanks for reading <3
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“We need to go somewhere safe” said sanzu. “Mikey needs to rest”
They had been running from the police for a while now. Mike had recent stitches on his abdomen and they had been carrying him for about an hour or so. The 4 men were exhausted and they all knew Mikey couldn’t make it any longer by himself. They needed to rest.
“What the fuck are we supposed to do now?” Sanzu spoke again. Recharging his gun, almost preparing himself to fight a lost battle.
They could hear the police cars around them, while they were currently hidden in a dark alley, all of them panting and tired.
Ran looked at Rindou with question in his eyes. They were thinking the same thing. They needed a safe place to rest and wait for the police to go away. They were in Roppongi and just happened that someone close to the brothers lived close by.
Rindou was hesitant. Making eye contact with his brother who could almost read his mind. He couldn’t believe he was even considering going to the only person who never wanted to get involved in this.
“Fuck… fine” he said while putting his gun in his belt. “Follow me.”
Ran already knew the way but he left his brother walk alone for now. He wasn’t happy about this either.
“Where the fuck are we going?” Asked sanzu, who was in the back, holding onto an almost passed out Mikey. No one responded to him, instead they just kept walking in between apartments and houses.
It was a nice neighborhood. Without counting the fact that they were covered in blood and all disheveled, it could almost look like they were taking a walk tonight. It was dark though, the street light almost didn’t work and besides the sounds of sirens, it was completely quiet. They could only hear their footsteps.
They arrived to a nice house with a nice garden and a nice car parked outside. The 4 men stood at the front porch and Rindou looked at his brother, Ran only nodded once, trying to make him feel more confident.
Sanzu was the only one who didn’t know what was happening, since Mikey was too out of it to even notice.
“Hurry up and open, who the hell lives here anyway?” Said the pink-haired man, clearly frustrated to not know.
“Shut the fuck up and behave.” Responded Ran.
Rindou ringed the bell once, while trying to look decent by fixing his hair a little.
A moment passed before the front light turned on and they could hear someone managing to open the door.
-
It was 2:30 a.m. so you were obviously sleeping before someone knocked at your door. You opened the door, and everyone stared at you. You were wearing shorts and a white t shirt, your hair looked a little crazy since you had just gotten out of bed.
Rindou and Ran had seen you like this before. But sanzu couldn’t help but stare. He had never seen you before in his life. You were beautiful, your hair in a messy bun and strands of it adorning your face, your pretty freckles and your rosy lips. You were just perfect. But what surprised him the most was when he looked down at your belly. You were pregnant. But who the hell were you?
“What the actual fu-“ he started, but you interrupted him.
“You’re bleeding” was the only thing you said, walking towards Rindou and examining his arm.
They were all so surprised and nervous to see you that they almost forgot why they were there.
“It’s not mine. I’m fine, okay?” He said looking for your eyes, putting his hand on your cheek.
“Hey princess” said Ran. You smiled at him, and couldn’t help but look at Sanzu and the man he was holding. He looked bad. “We might need your help.”
“I’ll explain everything” said Rindou.
You nodded and entered the house with everyone following you.
“Make yourselves at home, and I’m sorry for the mess. I fell asleep while baby proofing the house.” You said, while taking the tools away, so they all could sit and relax.
Sanzu layed Mikey down on the couch and made sure he was still okay. His stitches were miraculously still okay and he was still breathing. But he couldn’t help but stare at you. There was certain tension in the room.
“Oi, shithead, stop staring or I’ll take your eyes out” suddenly said Rindou, walking towards you, placing a hand on your lower back and the other on your belly.
Ran laughed and you only smiled, handing out a hand for Sanzu to shake.
“Y/n L/n. Nice to meet you.” You said.
Sanzu was so surprised that he couldn’t help but shake your hand too.
“Sanzu Haruchiyo.” Was all he said.
“Now that we all know each other, would you all like some tea?” Ran accepted your offer and you went to the kitchen, followed by Rindou.
After you were gone, Sanzu finally could talk.
“What the actual fuck? Rindou? With her? And- and- a baby?” He blurted out all at once.
“Yup” was all that Ran said, laughing at him.
“Huh, who would’ve thought that asshole could pull someone like that” he said resting his head on the back of the couch, trying to make sense of everything he just witnessed.
In the kitchen, you were trying to make some tea, feeling Rindou’s presence at the counter. He still couldn’t speak.
“Are you okay?” You asked him.
“I’m sorry.” Was all he said.
You walked towards him and put a hand on his cheek, looking at him in the eye.
“It’s okay” you responded, pressing your forehead against his.
“No it’s not, I don’t wanna put you in danger.”
“You can take care of us, I know you can.” You tried to calm him down.
“We just need a place to stay for the night, I promise I will never bring someone else here.”
“This is your home too, we will be okay, you can stay and they can stay too. I can take care of myself, you know.”
Rindou kissed you, it was a sweet kiss.
“How’s our babygirl doing?” He said, caressing your belly.
“She’s a pain in the ass, just like her father” you said laughing. “Now let’s go back before that friend of yours loses his mind.”
“Too late for that” said Rindou.
-
“So, miss L/n. Care to explain how you know our dear Rin rin?” Asked Sanzu with a smile.
“Shut the fuck up, you psycho” snapped Rindou.
“Don’t be so rude, Rin rin” you said, mocking the nickname. “Well, mister Sanzu, we actually meet at an illegal car race, he saved me from getting robbed.” You replied laughing.
“Interesting woman.” Sanzu said.
It was true though. Your friend had dragged you to a race where a “friend” was going to participate. You looked so innocent but at the same time so relaxed that Rindou couldn’t help but stare at you. One thing led to another and he ended up saving your purse from being stolen. And now you were here, pregnant with his baby.
“And how far along are you, may I ask?” He continued.
“23 weeks, actually. Thanks for asking.” You responded.
“I can’t believe our little Rindou here is gonna be a father.”
“Okay, enough with the questions.” Rindou couldn’t help but interrupt. “Y/n, to our room.” He said without looking at you.
You looked at him, raising your eyebrow. He noticed this.
“Please.” Was all he said.
You knew he wasn’t happy so you decided to obey.
“Gentlemen.” You said, walking to your room.
“Goodnight dear.” Said Ran.
Once you were gone, Rindou walked towards Sanzu.
“Okay now you little shit, we’re gonna stay here for tonight. Only tonight. When we’re gone, you’re gonna forget this place. You’re gonna forget she even exists, she’s won’t ever get involved with you or any of this.” He said. “Understood?”
“Now now, Haitani.” Said Sanzu, raising his hands, with a smug smile on his face. “Calm down. I won’t do nothing to her, I like her actually.”
“If you ever lay a hand on her, we will kill you.” Now spoke Ran.
Sanzu didn’t say another word, just smiled and nodded.
Rindou walked to your room. Like hell he was gonna let you sleep alone with that psychopath in his house. You were already asleep. The pregnancy made you extremely sleepy sometimes and it was past your bedtime.
Rindou layed down next to you and fell asleep with a hand on your belly.
-
The 4 men left first time in the morning.
“Sleep well darling, I’ll be back later today.” Rindou whispered to you, since you were still half asleep. “I love you.”
“Love you too.” You said when he left.
“Congratulations.” Said Sanzu when they were walking towards their cars.
“What?” Asked Rindou, unsure on what he was talking about.
“For your baby, congratulations.” He replied, in a more serious tone. “I didn’t say that before.”
“Thank you.” Was all Rindou could say. He knew Sanzu was never going to say something about you to anyone.
If anything, Sanzu was loyal. And he knew how much you meant to Rindou. And who knows? Maybe your baby could actually grow up with a family.
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gucciwins · 1 year
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Gala After Gala
Harry didn’t know that one moment with Y/N would change his life. 
Word count: 28,920 (no joke)
A/N: hi amores! this has been something i have been working on for months. this is older harry and I can honestly say i've poured my heart into this piece.  special mention to @matildashoney who was just an amazing support as i worked on this on and off. thank you for being patient with me friends! 💜
i hope you enjoy, my loves. buckle in, grab your waters and happy reading!
Warnings: slow burn!!!!! (it’s worth it), angst, fluff, smut (female pleasure) 
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Another gala. Another check to write.
Harry has to remind his assistant to stop accepting these invitations for him. Next time he’ll mail a check out instead. He had finished buttoning his velvet maroon coat as he handed off his keys to the valet for the hotel. The doorman guided him down the entry leading him to the extravagant ballroom.
To no surprise, the venue was decorated beautifully. There seemed to be a common theme of gold and flowers. At every turn, he saw a waiter with a boutonniere in their left pocket. The tablecloth shimmered under the dimmed lights, unlike the usual cheap fabric he saw at other events. For food, appetizers were lined up in the back with small places and forks to the side so one could serve themselves to their liking. Dinner was set to start in an hour once most of the guests arrived.
Harry mingled with a drink in his hand, not bothering to force a smile, he had the displeasure of knowing most of the people in attendance, and he can’t say he’s the biggest fan of them. They all had one thing on their mind: money. None of them cared about the cause for tonight, Harry included. All they were there for was to flaunt their money and see who could donate the most, and by the looks of it, Old man Tommy was looking to take the win by how aggressively he was signing his checkbook.
Dinner went surprisingly well. The music was a classical band that didn’t play pretentious music Harry was used to. They also didn’t play covers of pop songs. It was clear that the band had worked a long time with each other because they created beautiful melodies people could enjoy around conversation but also dancing. He never took part in the dancing, finding it tacky, and for the first time since he started attending gala’s, he was filled to the brim because the food was actually good. He cleaned his plate of the salmon he was offered.
After their meal, he knew he had to mingle, so he found an old friend Mr. Horan who he occasionally saw and invited out for a game of golf. He wouldn’t call him a friend, but he made decent company when Harry reached out. The Irish lad could hold his liquor and his jokes weren’t bad, not that Harry would ever let Niall know.
He wasn’t listening to the conversation around him. They were going on about the growth in their companies, and it was laughable. Not that he’d tell them, he wasn’t in the mood to step on their fragile egos.
“Excuse me, sir?”
Harry turns to find a young-looking waiter holding a tray with a single drink.
“Yes?” Harry asked in a bored tone.
“Lady in the black dress sent you this drink.” He nods at a woman standing at the bar's end in red heels. He couldn’t see the designer, but he knew they had to be expensive with the gloss they had on them. He wasn’t in the mood to be hit on, let alone to be sent a fruity drink. The worker did nothing wrong, so Harry took the glass. He didn’t bother excusing himself, instead making his way over to this woman who would most likely cry or scream at his rejection.
“Why’d you send this to me?” Harry questions as soon as he’s right behind her.
She turns around, a pout on her perfectly stained red lips, “you don't like an amaretto sour?”
Harry does his best not to let his face fall because she’s gorgeous. The dress looked beautiful, hugging all her curves. She was confident. He was sad he didn’t appreciate her backside more. Most women Harry knows wouldn’t dare be caught in a dress this provocative at an occasion like this, but she somehow added a hint of modesty to it with her red shawl that matched her lips perfectly. Although she’s stunning, he’s not falling for any trick of hers.
“Not my taste.”
“Oh,” the frown deepens on her face, “it looked like you weren’t enjoying your drink.”
Harry looks down at the brown liquid, “I ordered this.”
She raises her hand and shrugs. “My mistake. Your mood looked a little sour.”
It irked Harry how she had noticed him and his expressions when this was the first he saw her.
He keeps his eyes on her trying to see if he could get another reaction besides her pouty frown. “It’s the environment.”
“You don’t like Galas,” she states. “It’s an important cause.”
“It’s not that.” Harry takes a sip of the drink she sent him, mistaking it for his tequila. He holds back a reaction knowing she noticed his mistake. “I sometimes wish they asked for a check instead of making me pay a ticket and then donate a check once I’m here.”
“Oh.”
“They ask for money and give us little food,” he surprises himself by continuing to talk, not wanting to walk away from her just yet.
“The food offered tonight had large portions.”
“For once,” he scoffs.
“Open bar?” She offers.
“Strange,” he rebuttals.
“But it works.”
Her gaze shifts to someone behind her, and Harry knows she’s about to walk away from him, and he hates that he wants to follow her. She leaves her drink behind, moving around him, getting ready to head to the person seeking her company.
“See you around, Mr. Styles.”
Harry watches her walk away until she gets lost in the crowd. As Harry keeps sipping the drink she ordered for him, there’s one thought swimming around his head.
He had never given her his name, let alone his last name.
For the rest of the night, he had kept an eye on her, seeing as she glided from donor to donor. Everyone laughed with her. She was charming them all. It worked on everyone, even Harry, something he’d never admit to her. As Harry watches her speak with the host of the night, an old family friend comes up to him.
“Styles, where have you been hiding?” Miles asks, a giant grin on his face.
“Nowhere.”
Miles isn’t bothered by his answers; he is already used to Harry’s attitude. “How are you?”
“Well.”
“What are you drinking?”
Harry looks down at the empty glass that once held his second amaretto sour. “Nothing now.”
“Want another of whatever?”
He shakes his head, “good for now, thank you.”
“Why are you still here? I know you do your rounds and leave.”
“Uh…got to know a few people.”
Miles sees that Harry’s gaze hasn’t shifted for a second, and he finds where Harry has been staring for the last few minutes.
“Oh, Y/N.”
Y/N.
He repeats her name over and over, committing it to memory.
“Have you met her?” Miles asked him.
“Only for a moment.” Harry digs for more, “what do you think?
“She’s brilliant. Y/N is an intern for Lifelong Creativity long term but works side jobs with different partners Hope has introduced her to. I can’t tell you exactly what she does, but I know she’s passionate and would talk anyone’s ear off who asks. She’s finishing her degree soon, and everyone wants to snatch her up by the sounds of it. I wouldn’t be surprised if she was already working up on opening her own nonprofit soon.”
“How old did you say she was?”
“She’s 23.”
“Real young.”
“Yeah, but it’s clear she knows what she’s doing.”
“You should speak with her. I’m sure she’d love to. She knows every person on the guest list. Seeing as she helped create it.”
Safe to say, Harry was intrigued to learn more about Y/N.
Life moved on. He pushed the college student out of his head and continued on with his life, or so he told himself. When a new invitation arrived the following week for an event taking place at the end of the month, he was quick to get Pearl to RSVP for him.
+
Now the night has arrived, and he isn’t sure why he’s here.
It’s not to try to get a look at Y/N, not at all hoping to have a longer conversation. He learned her name; it doesn’t mean he wants to use it.
He spots her as soon as he arrives at the bar. She’s wearing a sage green dress with embroidered flowers all around. She’s wearing white heels tied around her calf, and he wants to know how long it took her to get the perfect bow for each foot. Harry soon sees her with another woman with a checkbook in her hand, another familiar face.
Before he can second guess himself, he’s walking towards them.
“Hello, Lucy.” Harry greets her with a charming smile and a kiss on the older woman’s cheek.
“Mr. Styles, always a pleasure.”
“It’s always mine.”
“I was just speaking with Y/N here, thanking her for helping me plan a successful night.” Lucy smiles at Y/N, who squeezes Lucy’s outstretched hand.
“Quite something,” Harry inputs.
“Evening, Mr. Styles.”
He nods at her, “Y/N.”
“Lifelong Creativity is lucky to have her. I’m glad you were able to help out, Y/N.” They all hear Lucy’s name being called from a distance and know she’s about to leave them alone. “Excuse me, will you?”
It now leaves them alone, making Y/N finally look at him. Her lipstick is a soft pink with an added shine of glitter. He wonders if he were to kiss her if it’d stain his lips just the same. He clears his throat, willing the thoughts away.
“You’re an intern,” Harry states.
She doesn’t seem surprised. “Yes, I, uh, graduate soon.”
“Undergrad?”
She smirks because she knows he’s searching for information about her. Y/N shakes her head, “Grad.”
“What’s your job?”
“I work for various nonprofits as well as hospitals. I’m part of their sub-events team.” She shrugs like it’s nothing of importance, but it is.
She’s part of the team that plans events to gain more funding for their organization and programs. She plans events to get people with heavy pockets, like Harry, to fork away thousands for a cause they believe in. Harry had often disregarded Gala invites due to ticket prices, but if his chances to see Y/N increased, he might just come to them all.
Harry does his best to hide how impressed he is with her.
“I’m sure you’ve reached your goal. Emptied all these fools out of their pockets.”
Y/N flashes him a grim smile. “Good day.”
What he said was clearly wrong because what Harry thought would be a long conversation was cut short.
The rest of the night, he never finds a moment alone with her. It’s as if she was dancing around him, having noticed that he was chasing her. It seemed she loved to play, and Harry didn’t like to lose.
+
Harry needed to pick up his suit from his tailor. He had a date, and this was his good luck suit. He pushed Y/N out of his mind. She was an intern and too young for him. He did not need to think about her or worry about seeing her at another event he attended. He was picking up his burgundy suit that needed fixing. It was made by his dear friend Alessandro. Usually, Alessandro makes alterations, but he was traveling at the moment, and Bartolo was the best. He had been coming to Bartolo long before meeting Alessandro. While his friend always made the most gorgeous suits, he seemed to have gotten his measurements wrong. Not that he minded. Harry liked paying Bartolo a visit, who always told him he needed to settle down with someone. That he wanted to see Harry happy. Harry simply told him it wasn’t the card for him.
He walks in, ready to be greeted by Bartolo, but to his surprise, he sees Y/N seated on a chair facing away from the window with a book in her hand.
“Y/N?”
She looks up, a slight smile on her face. “Mr. Styles, a pleasure.”
“Just Harry, please.”
She shrugs him off.
“Do you work here, Y/N?” He loves the role of her name off his tongue.
“My friend is an apprentice.”
“Dawn?” Seeing she’s the only other worker here besides Bartolo wasn’t that lucky of a guess.
Y/N, for the first time ever, smiles at him. It’s beautiful. It leaves him breathless. “Yes. Does she work with you too?”
Harry clears his throat, “no, uh, I work with Bartolo.”
He was surprised. Dawn had been working with Bartolo for two years, never had he crossed paths with Y/N. It was strange he found himself meeting her outside of their usual environment of a Gala. Seeing her dressed in a silk midi skirt with a slit going up her leg bundled up in an oversized sweater showcasing her university. The chunky boots on her feet gave her extra height, and Harry wished she’d stand up so he could see where she’d measure to him now. At their first meeting, he didn’t take note, but she noticed how she was a head smaller than him by their second meeting. Today he wondered if she’d be lined up to his lips if she would think of kissing him just like he thought of her.
She hums in response, leaving them in silence. He doesn’t know why but he wants her to keep talking. He wants to hear the softness of her voice fill the room.
“Bello!” Bartolo grins, bringing out his suit in his garment bag. Even that bag was customized with his name stitched in gold thread.
“Hello, Bartolo.”
Dawn walks in from the back, a few steps away from Bartolo and Y/N. “Y/N, your dress is ready to try on.”
Y/N follows behind Dawn but calls to him, “see you, Mr. Styles.”
Not a single glance his way. He wanted just one final look, and she didn’t give him that. Harry goes on his way home after paying Bartolo. He goes home with a clouded mind and a heavy heart.
Harry cancels his date that night.
+
No invites have arrived at his house or office.
It has been over a month, and he waits and waits. Harry has never been so aware of time as he has now. He feels every hour move slower, and he has no idea why. What kind of spell has she set on him that she is all he can think of?
He was tempted to look for her online. He had the power to do it, but he couldn’t break her trust. Harry doesn’t know her well, but he knows she’d hate it if someone looked them up without permission.
A knock on his door breaks him out of these thoughts.
“Come in.”
“Mr. Styles,” his temporary assistant Diego, while Pearl was away on maternity leave.
“Yes, Diego.”
“You said to come in if you received a new invitation.” There, in his employee’s hand, is a gold envelope.
In black ink is his name written on the front of the envelope. He opens it and reads from a close partner of his.
Golden Skies Invites you to join us as we celebrate our 10th anniversary.
Formal Attire - Be ready to dance
Anthony Carmichael
+
Y/N was nervous.
She could remember the last time she had felt her palms sweat and her heart wanting to beat out of her chest. It was when she was interviewing in front of the board the last step to seal her fate if she’d be accepted into the Graduate program of her dreams. Now here, she was nervous for an entirely new reason, this one holding less value to her life, but she knew it had the power to change the course of her life.
As much as Y/N loved the game of chase, she wanted to see if Harry was all talk or serious about pursuing her. Y/N had the confidence to go after what she wanted, and right now, she wanted to ask Harry Styles, CEO of Pleasing, a growing business, their net worth growing by the day.
Today she wore a satin midi slip dress with floral applique and lace trims in a dark shade of pink. An open back with delicate buttons on her lower back. This dress only doubled her confidence. She was ready for tonight.
The team had planned a big night as there would be dancing and a live band, unlike the past gala’s she had attended last month. Guests arrived promptly and quickly took a tour of the venue, many judging it, trying to find anything they felt didn’t hold up to their standards. She didn’t mind; she knew she could never please everyone. As long as she pleased her partners, then she knew she had done a job well done.
Y/N had to will herself to stop staring at the doors as they opened, bringing in familiar and new guests. She was waiting for a green-eyed man who never failed to impress with his custom-made suits from Gucci’s creative director.
“Y/N, sweetie. This is marvelous,” Keaton praises, leaning in to kiss both her cheeks, something she had to grow accustomed to seeing as most of her partners were big on the French greeting.
“Oh, uh, thank you. We’ll have to see how the night goes,” she tells him brushing off the compliment.
“You need to relax. Don’t you have Gracie to worry for you?” Keaton questions.
“Yes, but–”
“Nope,” Keaton cuts her off. “You need a drink in hand. You look smokin’, and everyone needs to see it.”
“I really shouldn’t.”
“As far as I am concerned, your work here is done.” Keaton passes her a glass of champagne he got from the waiters walking around happily offering them to guests. “Now drink.”
She takes a sip and hums, appreciating the bubbly drink. Y/n might not be sure what brand she’s drinking tonight, but she does know that each bottle costs over one hundred dollars, and if Keaton is telling her to enjoy then she will. Plus, a bit of liquor courage was always helpful.
Y/N spends time speaking with Nora and Liam, part of her team. They get lost in conversation, going over how they’re looking forward to the auction in a few weeks that Nora was happy to be part of. She loved getting people to spend money on her, and she seemed to get offers from everyone in the building. Nora returned with the most insane stories, and Y/N was excited for more. Getting lost in conversation, she forgot about the man she was waiting for to make his presence known. He had RSVP’d, and it wasn’t until Liam told her a broody man had his eye on her from across the room.
She knew Harry had arrived and that he had spotted her before she could spot him, not that Harry knew she was looking out for him. Harry stands alone, a champagne flute in his hand. The music was loud, and the dance floor had couples dancing and laughing out loud, enjoying the night. Y/N hoped she’d be joining in on their fun in a few minutes.
As Y/N walked towards Harry, she admired his suit. It was different from the previous ones he had worn. The suit had a subtle black flower print. As she got closer, Harry acted like he didn’t see her coming, choosing to look at the dancing couples. She allowed herself to notice the details in his suit, from the black velvet lapels on his oversized jacket and his trousers hugging his thighs nicely while the bottom gave a nice balance with a flared hem. She really liked the look.
“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greeted
“Y/N.”
She let his eyes roam over her knowing she looked amazing. This was a borrowed dress, one she would be sad giving back, but it served its purpose. Plus, it wasn’t like she’d have an occasion to wear the dress again, not when all these people would remember.
“Do you dance, Mr. Styles?” Y/N asks as she joins him in, watching couples spin each other around. The music was more lively than the classical she knew he preferred.
“Never.”
“Are you not good at it?”
Harry scoffs, “I’m just not open to doing something intimate with acquaintances.”
“I see.” They stay silent for a few minutes until Y/N decides it’s now or never. “There was something I wanted to ask you.” She tells him, turning away from the dance floor to face him.
Harry gives her no reaction. “Is that so?” She nods. “Well, go ahead.”
She looks behind her, and when she turns back around, she has the most gorgeous smile on her face, not an inch of nerves, not like a few seconds ago, and Harry feels his heart speed up. He wasn’t sure what she would ask, but he might just agree to anything she said if she continued smiling at him.
“I was hoping you’d like to go on a date with me.”
A date.
Harry felt his throat closing up. She was asking him out. He didn’t believe it. Why would she want to date him? He wasn’t aware he had managed to make an impression. Harry’s ego is through the roof at the thought of this gorgeous young woman wanting to go out with him, but on the other hand, his brain is telling him he can’t. That she was younger than him, and he had no reason to involve himself with her.
He knows he has been silent for too long as he sees her smile begin to slip. They both know the answer that’s coming.
“No, Y/N. The answer is no,” he forces out in a neutral voice, hoping she couldn’t pick up on the bitterness he felt towards himself for rejecting her.
Y/N did not move an inch. He had expected her smile to fall or for her to ask him to reconsider, but he got none of that. Instead, she tucked away her smile and gave him a slow nod. Her eyes stayed locked with his, and Harry had trouble reading her. It seemed she was unaffected. So he tries again.
“I’m sorry, Y/N.”
She brushes him off, “you don’t go through life without receiving a rejection. You’re not the first, and I’m sure you won’t be the last.”
Except Harry doubted that. Who could ever say no to her? Apparently, he could.
He did nothing as she excused herself, wanting to put as much distance between them as possible. He had no right to be with someone as sweet and young as Y/N. It was fine. He wouldn’t be seeing much of her after tonight.
Harry would think about this interaction for days, beating himself up for saying no, but it was for the best.
At least, that’s what he kept telling himself.
+
Rejections never came easy.
It wasn’t the first time Y/N got told no, and as she told Harry, it wouldn’t be her last.
Was she disappointed he said no? Absolutely.
Was he out of her league? One hundred percent, and Harry must have known that.
Y/N thought there was something there. She knew who he was. There was a reason she sent him a drink that night. She didn’t ask him out for his connections or because he was crazy rich but because she heard people speak about Harry, a great man. From someone who spends time volunteering at the soup kitchen to donating gifts to hospitals during the holidays. No need to mention the extensive checks he leaves after each gala. Many people are philanthropists or say they are because it’s a write-off or will make them look good, but Harry does it to remember where he came from in that small town in England.
She knew too much about Harry from colleagues and guests but never got to know anything from the man himself, and that is something she’ll regret. Instead of taking the chance to learn from him, she asked him out, and now she’d keep sending invitations to his company while doing her best to avoid him, or at least until she got over the humiliation.
Y/N let herself wallow in pity for only a day. 24 hours is all she gives herself because it’s back to work on Monday. No need to be stuck on something so trivial.
By doing so, she takes herself out to eat. A meal that will always make her smile is dumplings, and she knows just the place. The Dumpling Bar is a favorite place of Y/N’s to dine alone or with her friends. The service is fantastic, never failing to leave her feeling so welcomed and leaving with a full stomach. She always sits in the front, with a nice view of the window facing the small lake it is located by. She treats it as a reward because it is a bit of a drive from her apartment. She wished she lived somewhere closer, but for now, she’ll keep making the drive. The back area is for classier meals, Y/N likes to say, even though they are all eating dumplings. Guests are allowed to have a seat in the backroom for a more intimate dinner.
Upon arrival, Y/N is greeted by Alba, the hostess who, just like her name, reflects the warmest energy she feels every time she sees her.
“Hi, Alba!”
“Hello beautiful, it’s great seeing you. Table by the window, alright?”
Alba points to the table Y/N had been eyeing since she walked in and eagerly lets her know it’s perfect.
“Danielle will be with you shortly.”
Y/N thanks her. It was not long before Danielle took her order, making small conversation and promising her that her food would be out shortly, and true to her word, Y/N did not have to wait long.
Oh, how she was looking forward to eating until her tummy was full. On a full stomach, she’d be too sleepy to even begin to remember why she was feeling sad.  
As Y/N munches on her dumplings, she can’t help but overhears the conversation. Next to her, a couple is sharing dumplings and talking very loudly.
“I told my father that a horse would not make me happy, not when my last one had been a champion. How could I go back to the Hamptons to show my face going from a winning horse to one that would surely be a loser.”
Y/N giggles. Oh, the drama. She enjoys listening to the couple, the boyfriend trying to be supportive and failing.
“Tell your dad to get the best trainer.”
“Chad, you’re not helping. Father is working hard, and I can’t bother him over a coach. Everyone is lousy in the industry now.”
The conversation seems to be going in circles. Y/N enjoys dining alone because she can’t imagine having dinner with someone she does not like. There would be awkward conversation and forced smiles. It’s a big reason she’ll never be on a dating app. Also, it helps that attending so many galas has connected her with many single men, not that any of them have been worth her time.
Y/N was waiting for Danielle to return her card and receipt because she was ready to call it a night. She had a full belly and was craving her bed. She’s humming along to the song being played in the restaurant. She had been trying to think of the song's name, but she’s been coming up blank. The front opens, and she hears Alba’s cheery voice greet them. Curiosity gets the best of Y/N, and she turns her head to the entrance to see who walked in when she sees a man in an emerald suit, the jacket a pinch oversized, and it seems the sleeves were folded in not that anyone would notice, the woman on his arm was gorgeous. It’s clear she dressed up for a night out on the town with how shiny her dress was, maybe even too bright for a fancy dumpling restaurant.
“My date and I have a reservation,” Y/N freezes as she hears the man’s voice. His voice was firm but polite, the English accent thick as he stated his name to Alba’s. He looks around the dining room, and that’s when Y/N looks back down, staring at her used napkin and empty cup that once held her raspberry lemonade.
The hostess nods, “we’ve got the private dining area ready, sir.”
Y/N ducks her head, afraid if he spotted her, he’d give her a look of pity, and she didn’t need that tonight, not when she had seen it when he rejected her.  It was no surprise he said no to her. She could never look that elegant on a weekday, let alone a day after a gala where she stayed hours past all the guests. Y/N sits there in orange bell bottoms and a black knitted sweater.  She looks lovely, and this is her favorite restaurant. This brought all the feelings back Y/N had thought she had let go of, and honestly, as much as it broke her heart, Y/N knew she wouldn’t be coming back any time soon.
+
It’s been a month of endless planning and working with Hermanas Unidas, and Y/N was thankful the night was finally here. Tonight would be a bit different, and she was more on edge than ever. There would be an auction in a few hours, and Y/N wanted everything to run smoothly for Julieta, who has always been a good friend to her but today was her boss.
Y/N had raided Sapra’s, her best friend’s closet, once again. She knew she had to buy new clothes for her events, but she loved her best friend’s style and would rather borrow a dress than spend money on a new one. She was wearing a maxi dress with tie straps. Y/N chose it because she had fallen in love with the velvet material, and after trying it on, she felt sexy, not to mention she loved a slit to show off an extra bit of skin.
Sapra made Y/N promise she’d bring it back soon, stating it was her date night dress, and Y/N didn’t bother asking because whatever Sapra and her boyfriend did was not her concern.
The night had been in full swing since the doors opened to the venue. She had managed to blend into the background for most of the event and successfully avoided seeing the guest list for tonight, meaning she got to enjoy life without a care in the world.
After the rejection, she has happily moved on (or so she’s telling herself) Sapra and Atlas took her out on a double date that left her feeling back in her game. Her confidence was doubled, and she was ready to go out and have fun. No reason she had to stop because of one rejection. Although the man she went on a date with did not go well tonight, she’d be speaking with Colin, who had been made partner at Coulson’s Co. He was a family lawyer, and truth be told, Y/N was eating up everything he was telling her.
He was charming and had a deep laugh that sent chills down her spine. He was drinking wine and offered to get Y/N a glass when he saw she had been eyeing it. It’s safe to say Y/N was upset when Julieta’s assistant approached her to say she was needed backstage. Colin promised he’d miss her and looked forward to finding her soon.
Y/N was sure nothing would wipe the smile off her face until Julieta told Y/N why she was needed.
“Part of the auction?” Y/N exclaimed. “You’re joking!”
Julieta grimaced, “Erica called in sick. Always knew she’d flake.”
“Julieta!”
“Please, mi amor. I really need you. You’re all I have. I can’t do one less, not when I advertised five eligible bachelorettes.”
“Hope they can settle with me,” Y/N mutters.
“Dios, you know I hate when you talk like that. You are a beautiful woman. I’ve never seen confidence like yours, so please bring that Y/N back.” Julieta has done so much for Y/N, and she knows there’s no way she’d say no to her.
“Fine, what will I have to do?”
“It’s a good cause, Y/N, and I’m sure you’ll have a great time. If it’s someone you don’t feel comfortable with, I’ll handle it,” Julieta reassures her.
Y/N relents and allows herself to be dragged to the side of the stage, where four other ladies are lined up.
Here’s to a fun night. She really hoped Colin liked her enough to place a bid on her.
Harry was disappointed, to say the least. He had not caught a glimpse of her all night. He wanted to know what she was wearing, how she had styled her hair, and if she was drinking anything new. Tonight did not have a strict dress code, so he had settled on a simple black custom suit. He paired the suit with a black tank top, and to give it that extra flare, he wore his silver glitter boots.
As he spent the night looking for her, he knew he would not find her. The first time they met was because she wanted them to, and now she was back to blending into the crowd, but he knew he’d find her. He knew it was wrong to want to see her after rejecting her, but she was the only thing on his mind. Harry was never the type to get distracted, but here he is, attending another gala in the hope of getting a single glimpse of Y/N.
Harry knew he would find her, but he didn’t think it’d be by the owner of the organization presenting her onstage as an eligible bachelorette you could bid to take on a date. Harry was prepared to pay the auction no attention, but she always surprised him.  
He hadn’t seen her since he said no to her. Harry had rejected her not because he didn’t like her but because he was older. She was still in school, and he was running a billion-dollar company. He had the time and love to give, but he didn’t want to take away anything from her. He had no idea what she wanted out of life, and Harry was sure one date with Y/N and he’d be ready to get down on one knee because he recognized how intelligent and hardworking she was. It was rare that Harry found a person that could challenge him, but Y/N did it without a second thought. He didn’t want her to miss out on life experiences because he was at a different point in his life than her. He wouldn’t do it to her, no matter how much his heart hurt at never getting the chance to get to know her and the taste of her lips.
The bidding was starting, and Harry found himself with a numbered paddle. The number six stared at him, and he knew he would not be putting his hand down until he won that date with her because Harry was sure every person in that room who bid on her would not treat her the way she deserved.
“Good evening, everyone! I am Julieta, as you all already know. Tonight’s auction is slightly different. We always do amazing vacations, but tonight we decided something different. Behind me stand five beautiful women who are very important to this organization and me. So be aware that if you bid on one or more of these women, they will talk your ear off about Hermanas Unidas. Starting off, we have Clarissa.”
Y/N was the last person to be auctioned for the night. He didn’t know why she would do this? It didn’t seem like her, but then again, Harry didn’t really know her did he?
She walked up to Julieta with a beautiful smile on her face. She scanned the audience, and Harry froze, thinking she was searching for him but there in the second row, she locked eyes with a man and offered him a wink. Harry wouldn’t be surprised if she was seeing someone else already. He knew he was feeling green but swallowed it down, for it wasn’t the place to act out on jealousy of someone he had no ownership over.
“Bidding for the angelic Y/N starts at $500.”
Four hands shot up. Harry’s included.
“$1000,” the blonde guy in the second row offered as he was the first hand up.
“Very well. Do I have $1,250?”
Harry was quicker this time, his number up first. Julieta nodded, accepting his bid. He had his eyes locked on Y/N, and the moment she realized it was his number, he saw her take a step back, surprised to see him bidding for her.
She kept a smile, but he knew it was forced now, no longer carefree.
“$1,500?”
The blonde once again beat Harry, “$3,000.”
Harry rolled his eyes. Is that the best this guy could offer? Harry was ready to lay down all his money if it meant a date with Y/N. The highest bid was for Samantha at $11,000, and the person who bid was her boyfriend, the owner of his family’s business he inherited three years ago.
He decided he’d wait to see how long this guy wanted to play because, for Y/N, he wouldn’t be backing down. “$5000,” Harry countered.
That seemed to get the blonde’s attention as he turned around to get a look at Harry, who only offered him a smirk tempting him to play his game, and by the scrawl the blonde gave Harry, he knew this was now about betting the most for Y/N but also who could prove to have the larger pocket.
“$8,000,” the blonde stood, not even glancing at Y/N anymore.
“$10,000.” Harry has now stepped closer to the stage, not caring that all the attention was on him and his opponent.
“$15,000,” the blonde winced, and it seemed only Harry heard it.
Julieta waited to see if Harry would respond, with one last raise of his paddle, “$30,000.”
The gasps were loud, but Harry didn’t care. His eyes were locked on Y/N’s, who stared at him in disbelief. He had doubled the blonde’s number, and it seemed he was out by the way he shook his head and sat down.
Julieta did not let her surprise show and accepted Harry’s bid, closing the auction with an offer of $30,000 for Y/N to go on a date with him. Harry was proud and shot the blonde man a smug smile as he was guided backstage, as he asked to speak with Julieta when in reality, he went in search of Y/N.
Upon arrival, he found her taking a sip of her red wine for the night. She looked exquisite, not a hair out of place, and her makeup was done to perfection. She shined as the true diamond of the night.
“Y/N,” Harry called out to her softly.
She turned, a frown on her face. “Mr. Styles.”
Harry frowned. He couldn’t detect an ounce of kindness in her voice. “Seems like we have a date,” he joked, wanting to see her smile.
Y/N scoffs, “why did you do it, Mr. Styles?”
“Pardon?” Harry hates how she says his name with so much distaste.
“Why’d you bid on me? It’s clear you have no interest in me.”
Harry wasn’t sure where to go from here because that was the furthest from the truth. He didn’t have to reply because Y/N wasn’t done talking.
“How can you be jealous when you said no when I asked you out?” Harry stays silent. “That’s what it was, right? My attention wasn’t on you anymore, and you didn’t like that. Did flaunting all your money make you feel good?”
“Y/N,” he steps towards her, but she puts her hand up to stop him, and he freezes. “I’m asking you now.”
She frowns, her voice rising. Harry never wished to see her upset, but it’s exactly what he caused. “No, this isn’t you asking.”
Harry sighs. There is no getting through to her. “Come on, Y/N, don’t be difficult.”
It’s clear that was the wrong thing to say because her eyebrows scrunch up, and there’s not a hint of kindness in her eyes, only a blazing fire that he seemed to be the cause of, and he regrets everything he has said to her from the moment he met her.”
“This is how you want to go out,” she points to the number on her chest, displaying her as contestant number five. “Because if so, I’ll take the money, but I won’t go.”
“C’mon, Y/N, give me a shot. That’s all I’m asking for.”
“YOU BOUGHT ME, HARRY!”
Harry winces because he did. He bought a date with her, and some part of him regrets doing this without speaking to her, but it’s too late now.
Julieta comes up behind Y/N and places a hand on her shoulder, “Mr. Styles, thank you for your donation. We will deposit the check the day after your date, you know, for insurance purposes on both ends.”
“Of course, Julieta. I have always been a fan of the work you are all doing.” Harry hopes she doesn’t pick up on the tension between him and Y/N.
“You’re a gem, Mr. Styles.” Julieta shoots him a polite smile before turning her attention to Y/N. “I owe you one, Y/N, but I’m sure you’ll have a great night with this fine gentleman.”
And like that, they’re alone again.
They stand there in silence, waiting for Julieta to turn the corner to return to the party. They don’t want anyone overhearing their conversation. It’s clear they both have a lot more to say.
Harry starts wanting Y/N to know how sorry he is. “Don’t, uh, don’t think of it as a date. Think of it as an apology.”
Y/N rolls her eyes, “an apology I’m forced to accept because you paid for it.”
Harry grimaces. There’s no coming back from this.
“What would your girlfriend think of spending $30 grand on another person?”
Girlfriend?
There was no girlfriend in his life. It’s been years since he had a partner. There’s only one girl he wishes to make his girlfriend, but he royally screwed that up, so he knows it will never happen.
“No girlfriend, I can assure you.”
“You’re a liar,” Y/N spits out.
“Enough,” Harry rebuttals. “There is no one.”
“I saw you. I won’t date someone else’s boyfriend.”
“Saw me?”
“Eating dumplings, or I was eating dumplings,” she fumbles. “You walked in with a date. I’m sure you were very cozy in the private room.
Harry’s eyes widened, “Y/N no, it was only a date.”
Hearing it was a date just as much as seeing him with the other woman. It is confirmation enough for Y/N to know there wasn’t another person she’d be hurting if word got out she went out on a date with Harry Styles.
“Please,” Harry begs.
“If I do this, you double the donation,” Y/N counters, and seeing how desperate Harry looked, she knew he’d agree to anything at this moment.
Harry doesn’t even react. He pulls out his checkbook, ready to write the check.
“Make it out to you or the charity,” Harry teases, hoping to ease the tension.
She rolls her eyes, “Hermanas Unidas would be wonderful, thank you.”
“Y/N,” his tone full of defeat
“I’m doing this for Julieta,” Y/N declares.” Not for you.”
Harry nods.
“You can get my number from the sheet. All the details for your reward are there.”
Harry watches her pick up her drink and walk away from him, leaving him alone to feel sorry for himself. And he knows he has a lot to make up for if he wants any chance with Y/N.
+
Y/N has been dreading this day.
It had been a week from the fateful day of the auction where Harry bid $30,000 well, now $60,000 for a date with her. The donation would do wonders, but she had to make it through an afternoon with Harry. Seeing as Harry informed her that it would be something casual but ending with a nice dinner. Y/N had no idea what that meant, but she decided that her brown checkered trousers and an old knitted sweater that always kept her warm would be a safe outfit.
She managed to slip on her shoes as she heard the doorbell ring, perfect timing.
Opening her door, she found Harry smiling, a small bouquet of flowers in his hands. They were a beautiful shade of violet chrysanthemums. Y/N knew these were a rare shade to find, and she tried her best to bite back her smile at the sentiment.
“Hi, Harry.”
“Hello, Y/N, you look wonderful.”
She nodded but made no move to invite him in.
“Uh, t-these are for you,” he extended his hand, waiting for her to accept them. She was careful to not have his fingers brush against hers, not needing him to add to her nerves.
“I’ll, umm, go put these in water.”
Y/N knows she left him awkwardly hanging outside her apartment, but she was, in a way, inviting him in. She doesn’t want or need to cross that line with him. After setting the flowers on her counter and double-checking that the stove was off, she grabbed her bag and returned to Harry, who looked awkward waiting for her.
As Y/N locks her door and follows behind Harry, she can see that he did mean casual. He’s wearing wide-leg jeans that don’t do much to give him any shape. He paired it with a duck-stitched cardigan that softened his features in a way that his luxurious suits never have.  
Harry opened her door, offering a small smile as she slipped into his Bentley; the car couldn’t be more than a few months old by how sleek and cared-for everything looked. Y/N thinks of her Camry, better known as Baymax. The car that got her through undergrad and is still by her side now as she’s getting her master’s. Baymax has seen better days, but from what her father tells her, as long as she continues to care for the car as she has been, she has many years left with Baymax.
Harry's playlist in his car allows her to relax, classical music has always had a calming effect on her, and this time is no different. Harry didn’t try to spark conversation during the ride, and Y/N didn’t want to try either. She could feel the tension rising in the car as he fiddled every few minutes with the radio while Y/N tried to figure out where he was taking her.
It was half an hour until Harry turned up a paved road that led them to a large building, the parking lot full of cars. Y/N sat up straight, trying to figure out where he had brought them, but she’d never driven out this way. It was a hidden area, and the road easily missed when driving down if one isn’t actively searching for it.  
They pass a sign that reads, “Sunshine Haven” Y/N wants to say she’s heard the name but can’t pin it at this moment, she’s tempted to take her phone out and google, but something tells her Harry will have an explanation for her. As Harry parks in a spot that reads ‘reserved,’ she unbuckles herself but doesn’t move to get out as she sees Harry has not moved, instead playing with the beaded charm on his key chain.
“Before we go in, I want to say that I did go on a date.” Harry begins, clearly uncomfortable but important enough for him to bring up. “She is not my girlfriend. It was only one date.”
Y/N shrugs, disinterested. It doesn’t matter to her, no more than he does to her right now.
“I asked her out. It was a bad date. That’s all. I don’t even have her number.”
Y/N wishes he hadn’t told her this, that he kept it to himself because it hurts her a lot more than she thought to hear Harry talk about asking another person out. He asked that person out because he was interested in them, while Y/N got a rejection. It’s clear to her now that Harry goes after what he wants, and it’s clearly not her.
“All forgotten,” she tells him with a forced smile and then gets out of the car. Harry follows a few seconds after coming to meet her at her side. Y/N feels the chilly air and is thankful for her sweater because she doesn’t know what Harry has planned, but it doesn’t feel like anything warm is waiting for her.
He begins to walk, and Y/N follows a step behind him. She takes in the beautiful environment growing around her, the trees and shrubs a bright green displaying how much sunlight they must receive daily. Harry stops walking as they reach the welcome center entrance. Y/N sees how fidgety he’s gotten again and knows he has something to share, so she stays silent.
Harry rubs his eyebrow, a tell-sign he’s nervous, “uh, I thought Sunshine Haven Rehabilitation would be a good place to bring you because I’ve seen various causes you’re passionate about, and well, this is one of mine.” He gestures to the entrance, where there’s a bulletin board of all the animals that have been released back into the ocean; on the bottom are sponsors, and listed second to last is none other than H. Styles. His photo icon is of him smiling, that dimple he never seems to show off was on display with a stuffed dolphin in his arms, and it warms Y/N’s stomach in a way she hasn’t felt since she first introduced herself to him.
Y/N knows she has mixed emotions. She can go about this one of two ways: act nonchalant as if her heart didn’t grow three sizes when finding out that Harry brought her to a place that clearly meant so much to him, or embrace the day and see what Harry and this beautiful rehabilitation have to offer.
“Lead the way then, Styles,” Y/N gave him a small smile, hoping to ease his nerves, and the one she got in return managed to call her down as well.
Y/N was ready to get to know the real Harry Styles, even if it didn’t mean anything more to Harry because, at the end of the day, she could make a fantastic friend, which didn’t sound like a bad idea to her. Walking in, a receptionist greets them, asking if they’re here to volunteer or pay for a visit until the lady slips her glasses on and gasps seeing Harry in front of her.
“Young man, you haven’t been here in ages,” she scolds him.
Y/N bites a smile as Harry looks down bashfully. She uses this time to look at the woman’s name tag: Sally.
“Sorry, Sally. I’ve been busy.” Harry wraps her in a hug, and Sally sighs.
“Fine, fine. Go on, I forgot you called in.”
Y/N, not wanting to be rude, moves aside and stretches out her hand. “Sorry, I’m Y/N, a friend of Harry’s. Thank you for having us.”
“Oh, sweetie, aren't you polite.” Sally accepts her hand, giving her a firm shake. “I’d hug you, but this one is known to be jealous.” Sally gestures to Harry, causing Y/N to laugh.
“I know.” Y/N grins at Harry loving the chance to tease him.
“Haha, we’ll be going now.”
“Have fun, dears.”
Harry opens a door, leading them down a long hallway until it shows displays of different areas for each animal in the rehabilitation center. It’s clear how loved this location is, with all volunteers walking around each animal center.
“What are we allowed to do?”
He shrugs, “mainly walk around, feed a seal if we’re lucky.”
She tries to contain her excitement, “are we going to be lucky?”
“We’ll have to see, won’t we.”
Y/N pouts but doesn’t push him. He kind of hoped she would. She lets Harry take the lead in showing her around. A few other school groups are volunteering, and Y/N knows if she were their age, she would have also signed up to volunteer here. Her time in the library was put to good use; she learned how to code and the Dewey decimal system of her town’s library.
She stays silent as Harry tells her about the first section: the sea turtles. Y/N can’t help but take in Harry as he talks about Sunshine Haven with pride; his eyes shine with every new fact he rambles about without looking at any of the information boards displayed. Y/N doesn’t dare interrupt him, letting him guide her. She’s almost tempted to reach for his hand because his strides are more extended than hers, and she always finds herself catching up.
Y/N stops as she sees a sign for the otters. Her eyes shine with delight. She calls his name when she sees him walking away.
“Let’s go there, please.” It’s her first request, and Harry smiles, seeing her waiting for him to say yes and guide them to see the otters, her favorite animal.
“I don’t know, seems busy.” He teases.
She doesn’t stop herself when she reaches for his hand, deciding that she will take him there since he doesn’t seem to want to take her.
“Hurry, Harry. I want to see the otters. Please,” she begs
“Lead the way, love.”
She leads the way to the otters while Harry giggles knowing he’d follow her to the ends of the Earth. Y/N made him feel like a little kid full of happiness and never-ending energy. He wanted to spend every moment with her, and having the day with her would have to be enough for now.
Y/N coos as she catches sight of the otters happily swimming in the cold water. She steps towards the glass waving at the otters, although Y/N and Harry know the otters can’t see her. It doesn’t stop her; if anything, she steps closer, trying to get herself as close to them as possible. She looks like a little kid admiring their favorite animal for the first time.
“Didn’t know you were such a big fan,” Harry tells her as she marvels in awe at the different sea animals.
“Oh, I was certain I would be a marine biologist when I was five.”
Harry laughs, clearly picturing a small Y/N with her wide smile looking at picture books of animals and stating she’d be taking care of them.
“What happened?”
“Biology is what happened,” she shutters in disgust. “They made me dissect a frog, and it broke my heart. I thought they were all about helping animals, not studying their insides.”
“Oh, love.”
Y/N feigns tears, “I’ve never recovered.” She lifts her head to flash him a cheeky smile while he shakes his head at her antics.
Harry giggles at her act of sadness, having believed her bit. “You’re trouble.”
She shrugs, “only a few can handle me.”
And Harry knows he would be lucky to say that she’s his.
+
Dinner is something Harry had been looking forward to all afternoon. He enjoyed walking around Sunshine Haven with Y/N and seeing her relaxed and happy in an environment he loved. Harry led her down some stairs until they were met by a small opening that led them to a large tunnel. Y/N let out a gasp seeing all the fishes swimming all around her. She looked on in awe, not even noticing Harry capturing a photo of the moment.
“That’s a tiger shark,” she breathed out, pointing it out to Harry.
“That’s Tank,” he shares.
“Will she be released soon?” Y/N hears Harry sigh and knows that won’t be the case for Tank. “What happened?”
“They found him young, and his dorsal fin was cut off. Most sharks can survive without it over time, but he was so young that he was seen as prey, not a predator.”
“He isn’t bothered by the other fish?”
Harry guides Y/N to sit down, letting her continue to marvel at the ocean life around her. “We let him roam, then he returns to his own tank. He’s respectful because he isn’t the best hunter, but we’ve seen he loves his space.”
“I’ve always liked sharks. Feel like they’re misunderstood.”
Harry laughs loud and rich, making Y/N smile, knowing she’s the reason he’s laughing. “That’s one way to put it.”
“Come on, they’re a feared animal due to movies or shark bites. There’s a 1 in 7 million chance you’ll get bitten or die from a shark attack. You have a higher chance of getting taken out by the flu.” She tells him as Harry removes the silver food cover to reveal a plate of chili tofu and a rainbow pasta salad.
“You’re right,” he agrees. Harry is constantly in awe around Y/N, finding new ways to be surprised by her, whether it be her beauty or intelligence. “Hope you enjoy the food. I know you mentioned being a fan of tofu.”
“Oh, it smells delicious. Is this from a restaurant nearby?”
Harry ducks his head to hide the blush on his face, “no, uh-I-I made it.”
Y/N widens her eyes in surprise as she takes her first bite. Harry watches as she chews, not looking away from him even when she reaches for her drink.
“Thoughts?” He asks.
She giggles, “it’s amazing.”
Harry tries his best not to look too smug, but he knows he’s failing because his mother always told him the way to someone’s heart was through their stomach, and for her to be a fan of his food means he was a step in the right direction. He wishes he had called his mother more for advice because he knows if he had talked to her about Y/N, he wouldn’t have messed it up so many times.
“Right, Harry. You’ve got to tell me about the time you fell into the waste bins.”
Harry gasps in shock. It’s a story only a few knew around here, “when did Sally have the time to spill these lies?”
Y/N laughs, not at all surprised he was quick to deny the story. “Fine. You can tell me how the dolphins wouldn’t accept your treats.”
“Now, that’s not fair. They’re spilling all my secrets.”
Y/N enjoyed dinner with Harry. He was easy to talk with, never once cutting her off and always having his gaze on her. There wasn’t a moment she thought she had lost him, not even when she rambled on about evaluation reports she had to sit through every few months. She always seemed to do the data cleaning because no one had figured out how to use the template she provided, even with all the lessons she gave each employee.
Harry assured her after dinner that there was no need to clean up, that he had it handled. She agreed and let Harry walk her out, where they got the most gorgeous sunset view behind the trees. Sally waved them goodbye making Y/N promise to come back even if it wasn’t with Harry. Y/N promised she would; she had seen a flyer on the bulletin about rescues they have every other weekend when they open it up for volunteers in training, and Y/N wanted to make time to come out for one of those dates.
The drive home is filled with aimless chatter as Harry tries to learn about Y/N. He’s surprised by how much she’s actually willing to share, but he’s not one to question it. He likes answering her as well. He doesn’t think he’s told someone his favorite cereal choice in years; no one has ever wanted to know something so irrelevant, yet Y/N made his answer feel special. His past girlfriends were into materialistic items, not that Harry minded, but conversations always dulled if they did not involve the newest fashion trends or famous designers.
“I didn’t take you as a Lorde fan,” Y/N tells Harry as she sees him singing along to one of the artist's newer songs.
Harry turns to face her for a moment before turning back to the road, “what did you expect then?”
“Hmmm….you really appreciate Jazz and love any piano piece, so I assumed Joni Mitchell, Carole King, oh, and Van Morrison.”
“Wow! You take me for an oldy, Y/N,” he gasps.
“Tell me I’m wrong.”
He shakes his head, laughing, “can’t do that.”
“Knew it,” she celebrated.
“What about you?” Harry turns the question back to her.
“I want to hear what you think.”
“That’s a lot of pressure,” he tells her honestly.
Harry racks his brain, trying to picture the type of music Y/N would listen to. He’s never really thought about it, but she seems the type to love melancholy songs or love songs that you can’t help but sing at the top of your lungs.
“You’re a Spice Girls fan.”
Y/N laughs fill the car, and Harry wishes he could store it in his memory forever; he knows he’ll never hear another sweeter sound. “Who isn’t, Harry?”
“Fine, you’re a Taylor Swift fan. You love those romance songs, and maybe Lana Del Rey. She’s got that unique voice.”
She takes in his response for a second, “I mean, you’d find them both on my playlists absolutely, but they wouldn't be top five on my Spotify wrapped.”
Harry chuckles, not surprised he was wrong, “well, who is it then?”
Y/N grins, taking Harry’s phone that was sitting on the console. Harry hears her typing away then a familiar beat fills the car, and she is quick to join the lead singer in singing.
“Paramore,” he states.
“Paramore,” she repeats. “They’re amazing,” she shrugs, “I’ve always seen them have fun with their music, and I love that.”
“My friend’s a co-writer with them on their new album,” Harry shares nonchalantly.
“Shut up!” Y/N yells.
“What?”
“Oh! That’s amazing! Ugh, I’m so jealous. I’ve always aspired to be Hayley Williams.”
Harry has never seen Y/N be more her age than right now as she gushes over a band she loves. He’s always seen her serious and professional, and he likes that side of her, but laidback Y/N is just as sweet. Harry can feel her creeping into his heart.
He’s disappointed when the GPS announces they’re right outside her home. He did not want the date to end. Harry knows he went about everything wrong with Y/N, but he hopes he can get a real chance with her after tonight. Y/N lets him walk her up, his hand on the small of her back. She’s fumbling with her keys stuck in her bag's zipper; he watches on, amused, until she flashes him a slight grin to show she’s got them.
“Thank you for today, Harry.”
“Of course, Y/N.”
“Would–”
Harry cuts her off, having almost forgotten an essential part of tonight, “forgot to hand you the check.” He chuckles, reaches into his coat, and slips out a folded check. He didn’t see Y/N’s face fall as if finally remembering the reason she went on the date tonight.
Y/N looks down at the check and knows that as meaningful as the date was for her, it was still a debt to be paid.
“Goodnight, Harry.”
Harry doesn’t know what happened in a matter of seconds, but he doesn’t want the night to end on a heavy note, so he shares something weighing heavy on his chest. “I like you, Y/N,” he breathes out. He doesn’t let her answer. “I'll see you soon.”
Y/N watches Harry walk away, leaving her more confused than ever.
+
Harry was shopping for a gift. It was his niece’s birthday in a few days, and he knew that at eight, Abigail had become a big reader, what better gift than a few of his favorite books, as well as a year membership that allows her to get a new book each week. He was browsing a shelf when he froze, seeing someone at the end of the aisle reading a book. He didn’t expect to see Y/N so soon. She looked beautiful. Her hair was in a ponytail, a ribbon holding it all together. It seemed fitting for her. He didn’t expect to see her so soon after their date.
He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. It’s clear the date went well, at least to him, but when they said goodbye, he felt a shift. It was awful to realize, but Harry was nervous about approaching her. He wished he had a percent of confidence like he did going into corporate meetings, where he always owned the room the second he walked in. Yet, ten seconds in the presence of Y/N, he feels nervous and forgets every word in the English language.
After finally deciding not to approach her and instead head straight to the register, Y/N tucks the book under her arm and turns to find Harry right in front of her. He sees the surprise settle on her face, and he knows he needs to leave. Abigail’s presents can wait. He pretended he didn’t see Y/N and acted like it didn't break his heart to see her smile fall. Instead, he walked right past her like he wasn't hurting her or himself. He knew he was ruining his chances with Y/N, romantic and platonic.
Y/N stood in her spot, frozen. Harry brushed past her like they had not gone out on a “date” two nights ago. As if he didn’t tell her he wanted it to be an actual date that he “liked” her. It was a bunch of bullshit to toy with her feelings, but Y/N has decided she’s had enough. There will be a gala this coming weekend, and she’s decided he no longer deserves a minute of her time.
+
Harry was uneasy, arriving at the gala tonight. He hoped to find Y/N immediately because how they last saw each other left a bad taste in his mouth. He was done with these games. He didn’t care about anything else, not when all he wanted was Y/N, but first, he owed her an apology.
He spotted Y/N right away. He had come to learn that where the conversation was loud and joyful, that is where he would find her. She seemed to be the shining light of every event, as everyone who spoke to her always left with a dazed smile. It’s as if she bewitched them, and Harry knows he’s fallen under her spell as well, and he never wants it to end.
He could see she was guiding a conversation with ease. He took the time to admire her dress; her gowns never failed to leave him breathless, as if each one was perfectly made just for her. Tonight she wore a prune midi dress with a crew neckline and what Harry recognized as cap sleeves. The button detailing falls off-center, allowing the dress to give more shapes to areas of desire. The slit on her dress seemed to lie higher than other dresses he’s seen her wear, and he wished he was lucky enough to know what she had under.
Harry joins the group, pardoning for the interruption and addressing the group before letting his gaze rest on Y/N, who he sees standing close to the gentleman next to her. After a few seconds of staring at her, he can see where her arm is hooked in the crook of the man next to her.
He does his best to hide the shock. Seeing her at an event with someone else, let alone another man, doesn't feel real.
She always came alone.
Now here she was, smiling brightly with the man laughing at each joke she told.
“Mr. Styles,” she’s grinning, and it hurts to know he’s back to that formal name, no longer Harry. The reason she’s happy is because of the gentleman she’s proudly showing off by having him at her arm.
“Y/N,” his voice was low and defeated.
“This is–”
“Excuse me, will you–”  he interrupts before she can introduce her date. He was a fool for thinking he had a chance; he rejected her and bought a date. For fuck’s sake, he really screwed everything up. He heads to the bar hoping to drink away the time.
Y/N isn’t one to allow someone to walk all over her, but it seemed there always was an exemption to the rule, and for her, it was Harry Styles. He’s been insufferable from the moment she introduced herself to him, but she found him charming. She took a shot, and it didn’t land. That was fine. Their date was good but nothing more, not when it wasn’t real.
Tonight when she wanted to present Mr. Styles to her brother-in-law, Isaac, he didn’t give her a chance to speak. He was a real piece of work. As much as she didn’t want to believe all the rumors she was starting to hear about Mr. Styles, they were getting harder to deny, especially when he brushed her aside in almost every meeting they had.
“You alright, Y/N?” Isaac asks, escorting her away from two fellow donors who promised a check of $20,000 and over to the open bar on the other side of the room.
Y/N sighs. There’s no point in lying. “That’s Harry,” she muttered.
Isaac gasps, “no, the handsome guy who glared at me from the moment he walked in and saw you at my side.”
“The very one.” She doesn’t seem to pick up on the last bit of his sentence.
“He’s handsome,” Isaac states.
“And he knows it.”
“I thought you said he wasn’t a douche,” Isaac questions her, confused. “Or Matias said he hadn’t been.”
“You both gossip too much,” Y/N accepts the whiskey he hands her and takes a sip before hammering it all back.
“Taking it back to the old days, I see,” he teases.
“Piss off. You and my brother did much worse, if I recall.”
Isaac scoffs, “Matias and I were the perfect children. Don’t care what you say.”
“Your mother’s front door says otherwise,” Y/N reminds him.
“That’s not fair. You and Sapra took the car up to Bristol for the weekend.”
“With permission,” you remind him.
He scoffs, accepting anything whiskey from the bartender. “How have you two always been the favorites?”
“Because we didn’t fall in love with each other.”
“You’re a wanker!” Isaac nudges her side, careful to not spill her second drink.
Y/N laughs, leaning her head onto her brother-in-law's shoulder. She always has the best time with him. It’s the reason she asked him to come with her tonight, also because her brother asked for her help to get him out of the house to allow him to bring in and hide Isaac’s birthday gifts that he somehow always managed to find each year.
Isaac helps Y/N work the room. She had forgotten how much fun it was to hang out with Isaac. He seemed to always be a package deal with her brother, not that she minded but spending time with him reminded her how much he always made her laugh.
“He’s watched you all night,” Isaac informs her after returning with a new drink from the bar Y/N, having walked away from Daniel, a cold stone CEO who turned into a giant teddy bear promising a check of $10,000 after a five-minute conversation with Y/N.
Y/N shrugs him off, “I’m over it.”
“Sure, babes.”
Y/N scoffs, “I am.”
“You want to be under him, not over him,” Isaac tells her, not at all falling for her charade.
“But he’s been a dick.”
“I think he’s intimated.”
“Of?” Y/N questions.
“You, dummy.” Isaac gestures to Harry, who’s standing next to a few other men clearly in charge of the conversation, but he doesn’t seem to care because he glances at her every few minutes. “He’s probably never met a woman who’s asked him out to get to know him. Maybe he thought you were only trying to sleep with him.”
What Isaac is saying makes no sense to her, but maybe he has a point. Maybe Harry didn’t know her intentions, and that’s why he told her no, it doesn’t explain his other actions, but it is a start.
“Enough.” She’s tired of discussing Harry and would rather head home now before Harry gains the courage to approach her. “ I’m going to the restroom, and you’re getting my coat. I know a good place to eat.”
“You paying?” Isaac teases.
“Yes, you little diva.”
Isaac presses a loud kiss to her cheek, sending her off with a slap to her ass, “off you go.”
Y/N rolls her eyes at his dramatics but goes off to do her business. She was feeling hungry tonight. Leaving the restroom, Y/N bumps into someone waiting right outside. She laughs as the person helps her straighten out.
“Haha, sorry there.” She really should be more careful.
“You okay?”
Y/N freezes. Of course, it’s him.
“All good,” she assures Harry.
“Good.”
She stands there awkwardly, waiting to see if he would say anything, but he stays silent.
“If you’ll excuse me,” she moves past him.
“Y/N, wait.”
She looks at him expectantly.
He sighs, and he runs his hand through his hair, a tell sign he’s nervous. “I’m sorry. I shouldn't have ignored you. I was having a bad day and didn’t want to bother you.”
“Wasn’t so hard, huh, to let someone know you see them but didn’t have time to talk.”
He shakes his head, “not at all.”
“Hmm…”
“I’m sorry. I can’t say it enough.”
Y/N shrugs. “Well, it’s done, I guess. We don’t owe each other anything.”
Harry deserves her hesitancy. He hasn’t been good to her, but he misses seeing her smile and laugh at his awful jokes.
“Ready to go home, babes?” Isaac calls from behind Harry, holding up her coat.
She holds back a smile shaking her head at Isaac, who has a Cheshire grin. Harry looks at her like he wants her to say no, that she’ll stay with him, but she’s had enough of his games.
“Good night, Mr. Styles.”
“Y/N,” he reaches for her hand but stops. They both stare at his arm, having stopped inches from touching her until he drops it back to his side.
“Take care.”
Harry nods as he watches another man drape her coat around her, then place a hand on the small of her back and guide her out.
He really had no chance now.
+
Y/N loved ice cream.
When she was younger, her parents loved taking her out for ice cream after any kind of academic achievement, wanting to shower her with praise just as much as they did her brother, a star athlete. She loved coming because she got to pick a new flavor each week and also how they found out she was allergic to pistachio.
Growing up close in age, many thought she and Matias would not get along, but that was not the case being the younger sister allowed her to see her brother in a guiding light. She loved following after him at least she did until he pushed her down the last few steps of stairs for breaking his favorite crayon. He broke her arm, which she was allowed to hold over his head forever.
He was the reason she had to learn to write with her left hand. Their parents thought they would hate each other after that fight, but it only brought them closer together. Matias realized how fragile his sister was and vowed never to hurt her or anyone again. It's why he became a swimmer. No actual harm would come to him or anyone while Y/N gained the strength to stand up for herself, not wanting to be seen as weak.
As much as Matias denies it, his heart broke when Y/N met Sapra, her best friend, because it meant he was losing her as his best friend, something he’d never dare tell her. Sapra walking into Y/N’s life was amazing because it made her glad she had a brother because it meant she could have Sapra as the sister she never had. From the day they partnered in English for a project, Sapra being the new student and Y/N the star student, they did not go a day without each other. They became part of each other’s families and officially became sisters thanks to the help of their brother by falling in love and getting married.  Now here she was for her weekly ice cream date with Sapra.
“He didn’t!” Sapra gasps as Y/N explains how Isaac cut off Harry and escorted her out like a true gentleman.
Y/N nods, licking her caramel vanilla ice cream. “Yup, he looked like a kicked puppy.”
“Oh, that’s devastating.”
“It was.”
“I thought you liked him.”
She shrugs, “he’s all mixed signals. I ask him out, and he says no. I’m auctioned as a date he buys me. The next time I see him, he ignores me.”
“Maybe he didn’t see you.”
Y/N gives her a deadpan look. “We stopped right in front of each other. Had a book in hand, and he had a coffee. I waved, gave him a smile, and took a step towards him, and he stared past me and then walked past me.”
“Right…” Sapra realized there was no bright side to her situation.
“I seriously don’t get his problem. If this man says he’s doing all that because he likes me, I’ll call bullshit.”
Sapra sighs, “maybe he likes you but doesn’t like how forward you are. Maybe he’s into sweet innocent girls.”
“Ugh, this is why I don’t date. I seriously thought he’d be mature for being older. Seems all that money has clogged his brain.”
Y/N watches as her best friend laughs.
“Speak of the devil,” Sapra gestures behind Y/N, and she does her best to bite back a groan.  
“Noooo,” she groans. “This is my favorite shop.”
Harry notices Sapra staring at him and shoots her a polite smile. “He saw me.”
“He doesn’t know you.”
They decide to ignore him, and it works. Sapra finished her ice cream, and Y/N excused herself to the restroom claiming they had a few more stops before ending their day together. Y/N returns from the bathroom just in time to see Harry standing in front of Sapra, a cup of ice cream in his hand. As she gets closer, she meets Sapra’s eyes which are telling her to stop, but she doesn’t listen, able to catch Harry’s final words.
“--love to take you on a date.”
She’s not sure what to feel. Instead, she doesn’t let an inch of emotion show as she says excuse me taking her seat in front of Sapra again. Y/N sees the exact moment Harry’s face falls as he recognizes her. Then back to Sapra, the person she told him about on their so-called date.
“Y/N,” he breathed out.
“Mr. Styles,” she addressed him coldly. “See, you met my best friend, Sapra. We’ve spoken about her.”
He clears his throat, evident in the growing tension. Y/N’s expressions stay neutral while Sapra looks at Y/N, smirking.
“Well, Mr. Styles, as flattered as I am. The answer is going to be no.” Sapra shrugs, no longer meeting his eyes.
Harry fidgets with his rings, his discomfort apparent, “no, I understand.”
“Heard you met my brother. He’s a real charmer.” Sapra tells him.
“Sorry?”
“At the gala,” Sapra reminds him. “He was Y/N’s date. Think they make a great pair.”
Harry frowns, feeling his skin itch.
Y/n decides to end his suffering. “Isaac is Matias’ husband. My brother, I told you about him.”
“The older brother who painted your mum's wagon pink,” he checks to confirm.
“The very one.”  
“Have a nice day,” Sapra tells him harshly, cutting off the conversation from going any further.
“Good day.” Not an ounce of confidence in his walk. If anything, Y/N thought he looked sad.
Both girls watched him walk away until he was outside and in his car. Y/N isn’t sure what to say, but she can’t say she blames Harry. All through their time in school together, Sapra was the person all the boys asked out. While Y/N was the person, they went to for advice, not that she ever helped them. It wasn’t until she was at university did she realize she didn’t care what others thought. Y/N started working on her self-confidence, and she blossomed. When she first asked a boy in her English class, and he said yes, she felt empowered. She took that energy and put it into her work ethic. It’s why she’s so successful today. She will admit it hurt seeing Harry ask out her best friend, but it also helps put things into perspective that Harry Styles might not be the man she thought he was.
+
Harry is an idiot.
He has one girl on his mind, and to take his mind off her, he asks another out, only for it to be her friend, her best friend of all people. He really screwed this one up.
“You haven’t called me in a while,” Harry’s friend Mitch says as he sips his bourbon.
“I’ve been busy,” Harry mutters.
“Hmm…”
The two men sit in silence. It’s something they have always done. They are not ones to express their feelings unless they need to.
“What shit did you do now?” Mitch asks as he sees Harry pour his third cup of bourbon.
“Shit, Mitch. You don’t beat around the bush, do you?” Mitch gives him a pointed look, and Harry relents. “There’s this girl.”
“That’s a first.”
“As I was saying, she—she’s beautiful. And so god damn out of my league, I don’t know what to do with myself. I’m fucking 33, and she has me acting like a teenager.”
“Ask her out, simple as that.”
Harry laughs bitterly. “No, Mitch, it isn’t. See, she asked me out, and I said no.”
Mitch winces, “ouch. Bruised her ego.”
“No, that's the thing. She acted unbothered and treated me with respect after.”
He knows he’ll regret that rejection for the rest of his life.
“What were you expecting? A drink in the face.”
He shakes his head, “course not.”
“Why is she a problem if you rejected her?” Mitch emphasizes.
“Because every time I see her, I feel my heart wanting to beat out of my chest. I see her speaking with another man too close, and I get jealous. Hell, I bet on an auction date with her, but I fucked it over by ignoring her the next time I saw her. And today, I was finally working up the chance to go out on a date to get her out of my head, and the person I asked out turned out to be her best friend, and she was right there.” Harry slumped back against his chair, bourbon now forgotten.
Mitch grimaces, “that doesn’t sound great.”
“It’s all shit.”
“Backtrack. Why did you reject her?”
Harry groans because he’d been a fool to say no. He thought he was too old for her or that she was looking for some fun in the sheets, and he wouldn’t disrespect her like that, not when he admired her. “She’s young.”
“Eighteen young?”
“No, you dick.” Harry spits out harshly.  “She’s in graduate school. She’s in her twenties.”
Mitch sits back on the couch, frowning.
“Spit it out.”
“It seems you made a mess of things for no reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“Well,” Mitch takes a sip of his drink, getting all his thoughts together. “She asked you out, meaning you didn’t seek her out. If I recall, you said she knew your name.” Harry nods, and Mitch continues. “It means she was aware of your age difference. She had an idea of her chances being slim to none to you saying yes. She came in with the upper hand, but you carried the power with your response. You’re going about your feelings all wrong. If you’re not going to treat her like she knows she deserves, then leave her alone.”
Once Mitch had laid it all flat for Harry, he could see that Mitch had a point. She knew what she wanted from the moment they met, which intimated Harry for some reason. She sent him the drink, asked him out, and reached out while he hid and avoided. She held herself with grace and respect, and that somehow intimated him.
He wanted a chance with Y/N to prove to her he could be a gentleman, and he valued her time and respected her. He just had to find the right opportunity. His eyes flickered to the ripped invitation on his desk. An invitation to a Masquerade Ball in two weeks to support Global Warming. He knew who would be there. It was the perfect time to apologize and ask for a date, a real one this time.
+
Y/N hated being sick.
From a young age, she threw the biggest fuss when she would fall in and had to miss school. She told her parents that missing out on learning would ruin her life when she didn’t want her friends to forget her for the days she was gone. Given that when she would go back, she received big hugs; clearly, she was not forgotten.
Now, as an adult or graduate student living alone in her small but entirely her own apartment, she didn’t like to be sick, not when she had to work or had events to attend. Thankfully, Y/N’s work has always been flexible and has health benefits, so she can take the day off. The sad news is that there’s a gala, not one of hers this time, that she promised she’d attend with Sapra. The theme was masquerade, and Sapra had worked on her mask for ages wanting to stand out during the night, and Y/N couldn’t bear to disappoint her. Sapra had been looking forward to this night for ages, even writing it with a pen in her calendar, and she never did that in case plans changed. Y/N felt horrible, but thankfully Sapra was super understanding, and their good friend Dawn was able to come in and save the day. With the promise to send Y/N lots of pictures, they left her with soup and crackers to last her the next few days while she began to feel better.
Harry had been counting down the days to see her. He hoped he was able to spot her among all the people tonight because if not, he’d be asking every person in the room to remove their masks until he found her. He had decided on a gold mask with intricate black designs all around. His dear friend Alessandro took his time with it. He knew he’d take it back to his friend after it was too much of a delicate piece to keep for himself. He knew he would have no use for it after. His suit tonight was velvet, a deep black that held a shimmer in the right kind of lighting. Harry loved the little details in outfits, and he couldn’t wait to notice each one of Y/N’s tonight.
He must have walked around three times and nothing. Not a single citing of her. Harry decides to stop at the bar when a woman in a gorgeous red gown drops her mask, and Harry gasps. It was not Y/N; it was her best friend, Sapra. That meant Y/N had to be around here somewhere.
“Good evening, Sapra.” Harry interrupts her conversation with the short woman next to her. She’s in a yellow gown, one that reminds him of Kate Hudson’s in her iconic role in How to Lose a Guy in 10 Days. He recognizes her as Bartolo’s worker in the shop. He hadn’t been there since Alessandro came back from his trip. “And Dawn, it’s nice to see you again.”
Dawn flashes him a smile. “You as well, Harry. Bartolo misses you. Says no one comes in to challenge him like you did.”
Harry nods, “I’ll have to visit soon, then.” Sapra elbows Dawn as if reminding her they weren’t team Harry. He notices, and before giving them a chance to make their exit, he asks the question that’s been sitting on the tip of his tongue. “Where’s Y/N?”
Sapra and Dawn share a look before turning back to Harry, matching frowns on their faces. “Girl code, Mr. Styles,” Sapra tells him, voice full of distaste.
“Please, I know I don’t deserve it, but I want to speak with her,” he begs.
Dawn takes pity, having heard Harry bare his heart to Bartolo when he came in for a suit fitting about how nervous Y/N made him and that his confidence seemed to vanish around her. She thought it was a step in the right direction to ask them about Y/N despite his first meeting with Sapra.
“She’s sick,” Dawn shares, not caring that Sapra will give her shit for it later.
He frowns. She’s sick, and she’s alone. That doesn’t sound like a good evening. “Will she answer if I go?”
“You’re kidding?” Sapra asks.
Harry shakes his head, “please, I only came tonight in hopes of seeing her.”
Sapra turns around at the bar to speak with the bartender, and he gives her a napkin and a pen. She clicks the pen and turns around, handing it to Harry. He didn’t tell them he knew where she lived.
“She tells me you said something dumb, and I’ll make sure to burn your empire to the ground,” Sapra promises. Dawn whispers for her to cool it, but Harry understands where she’s coming from.
“Do you know when that restaurant closes down the block from her house? She told me she really likes their soup there.”
Sapra shared a look with Dawn. Yeah, it seemed that Harry had some feelings to sort through.
Harry takes a deep breath. He isn’t sure if she’ll let him in or even want to see him. If it were him, he’d take one look and slam the door shut. Well, he won’t know until he finds out. He knocks two times and takes a step back, allowing himself to look down at her doormat. There is a range of wildflowers displayed, and if Harry’s honest, he has no idea what their names could be. As Harry focuses on anything but the door, he fails to realize it has fallen open.
“Harry?” She whispers, confused.
Harry lifts his head, flashing her a smile. “Hi, how are you?”
She ignores his questions. “How are you here?” Y/N shakes her head. “Don’t answer that. I bet it was Dawn; she’s a softie.”
“Do–Would it be okay if I came in?” He stutters.
Y/N tilts her head and looks his head to toe in his velvet suit, his mask forgotten in his car. She knows this is weird and has a right to kick him out, but he’s carrying a bag, and Y/N can smell the hot vegetable soup she craves when she’s sick.
She moves back, and Harry takes it as a sign to come in. He lets out a sign in relief. While Y/N locks the door, he toes off his shoes, noticing the shoe rack by the door. Y/N thanks him quietly, and he follows after like a lost puppy. She grabs two bowls while Harry begins to unpack the food. He wasn’t sure how much she would like, and Kim, the waitress, suggested two of their largest sizes, and he agreed.
Harry takes the bowl from Y/N and begins to serve her a healthy amount, knowing if she has too much, she could end up puking it all up.
“Thank you, Harry.”
She grabs her bowl and heads to her couch. As she settles in wrapping herself in a blanket, she sets the bowl on her lap. Harry stays frozen in the kitchen, unsure if he’s allowed in her space.
“Are you going to make me eat alone?”
“Sorry?” He breathes out.
“Serve yourself and come sit. You brought me so much soup I’m not going to finish it all on my own”
Harry grabs the second bowl, notices the strawberries, and laughs. He likes getting to see more pieces of Y/N. From her linked shoes at the door, he can tell she’s organized. As he walks further into her living room, he sees a full bookcase with hundreds of books and a little reading nook with a stack of books waiting to be read. He sits at the other end of her couch, sinking into the comfortable cushion; he smiles at her record player and wonders what she last listened to.
“Do you want a blanket?”
He sighs. Y/N’s a sweetheart treating him kindly, accepting him as a guest in her home. “Thank you, but I’m okay.”
They settle into silence, and usually, Harry finds it annoying, always needing a conversation to be going even if he isn’t leading it. However, with Y/N, he relishes the silence because he enjoys her presence. No words are needed.
Y/N ate until she was full, meaning she left her bowl clean, not embarrassed to have Harry see her slurp the last bits of her soup. Harry refilled her water as he placed her rinsed dishes in her dishwasher.
“How was the gala?” She asks after he settles back in his seat.
“Awful,” he answers honestly. It was the truth, he knew Y/N prided herself in the work she did for each event, but he couldn’t lie to her.
Y/N frowns, “good means I didn’t miss anything important.”
He’s surprised she had no hand in the event, but if he thinks about it, each gala he has been in attendance of where Y/N has helped always went without a hitch. He can’t say the same about tonight. “You didn’t plan this event?”
She smiles at his shock. “Not this time. Sapra heard it was a masquerade ball and begged me to get her in. How were the ice sculptures?”
Harry laughs, “melting, a puddle of water all around.”
“Oh, bummer.” She shakes her head, upset she missed it. “They have awful AC in that building.”
Y/N proceeds to tell him about how they reached out, but she’s had a busy schedule, and as much as she loves her job, she’s still only an intern who needs time for her studies and herself.
“Is that why you fell sick? Overworking?” He asks, concerned.
She giggles, “no, I have a healthy work and life balance, thankfully.” Y/N’s phone rings interrupting her. She apologizes as she’s sending off a text before giving her attention back to him. “My neighbor Terry has a one-year-old, and I was babysitting her for the night. We didn’t know she had the sniffles until she woke up colicky from a nap. Turns out their bub was sick; thus, she gave me the bug that took me down.”
“How’s the bub doing?”
“Oh, she’s a fighter. She was not a big crier; she needed a few cuddles and medicine, and she was much better. The thing about babies: they get sick and are better the day after. Their bodies next time around will have now built a strong immune system able to fend it off even better.” Y/N feels her face flush, feeling she shared a bit too much.
Harry sends her a dimpled smile. “My little sister is having a baby in a few months. I think it’s essential to know how to help. Thank you, don’t think parenting books are always so helpful for uncles.”
Y/N can’t hide her grin at Harry’s confession. “Oh, that’s lovely, Harry. Send her my best. I have a link for the best stroller, and I mean the best. It's easy to fold even when she might be on her own. I’ll send it your way.”
Before Harry can thank her, a ding rings loud, and it’s his phone signaling, he’s received her message. “I appreciate it. It’ll make a good gift.”
Her eyes widened, seeing the stroller's price.  “Do you need a discount? I got lots of coupons for this website.” She offers.
Harry is surprised she offered. She must know he’s well off. A stroller that costs a few hundred bucks won’t make a dent in his bank account.
“Sent it anyway,” Y/N tells him. “It’s good for six months.”
“Thank you.”
Y/N grins, happy to be useful even when sick.
Harry takes in her tired eyes and knows he’s taken too much of her time. Instead of letting her rest, he made her stay up when she could have been sleeping.
“I feel like I have overstayed my welcome,” Harry stands up, offering her a sheepish grin.
“No–” she’s cut off by a yawn.
She laughs, rubbing her eye, trying to will the sleep away. “I’m sleepy when I’m sick.”
“Thank you for letting me in.”
“Thanks for the soup,” she counters.
Y/N walks him to the door, the blanket wrapped over her as she tries to keep herself warm. “Will you be alright alone?” He checks, not wanting to leave her alone if she gets worse while sleeping.
She notes his concern, and Y/N knows she can tell him it doesn’t concern him, but he did come out of his way to check on her. “Dawn promised she’s on her way here to give me cuddles. I'm a big baby when I’m sick. Get all clingy.”
Harry can imagine her lying on his chest, blankets up to her neck as he holds her close, rubbing her back. Warm tea and soup at hand to make sure she’s eating. He would love to care for her, but that would be crossing a line. Neither of them were ready for all because of Harry’s stupidity.
“Y/N, before I go, I wanted to apologize. I–It seems every interaction with you, I only seem to leave a bad impression. I genuinely think you’re an amazing person and felt lucky to take you on a date, but after ignoring you, I feel I keep messing everything up. Will–is it okay to call you my friend, or if we can take a step in that direction.”
She knows there’s no possible way they could be friends, not with the chemistry they have together, but Y/N appreciates where he’s coming from.
“Friends it is, Styles.”
“Friends,” he confirms.
And maybe something more.
+
It had been a month since Harry saw Y/N sick in her apartment. He texted her the morning after, and she promised she was doing better; her headache was gone. She teased him about the soup, saying it was the abundance of soup that cured her. He felt a flutter in his stomach at the fact that Y/N thought he was helpful. God, he was really head over heels for her, but they were friends. Friends that texted and sent photos of things that reminded them of each other (Harry was on the receiving end of most images. He did practice his use of emojis for her).
Y/N was going through exams and focusing on the internal work of her internship, as in paperwork and the hiring process to take her on after graduation. She let him know she was still considering her options, but Y/N knew she would be saying yes because the pay was well above what she went in asking for, and she had a healthy work environment. It made him happy to see how well things were going for her. It made him want to invite her to tour his office. He wanted to see her sit in his office chair as she looked at the view of the city.
Wake and Wonder were holding a gala to raise money for their new NICU ward. Harry was part of the board for this event and knew Y/N would be attending, having heard her name throughout the night from the guests. Over the last few months, Harry began to see the importance of these events and attending, most of the guests were snobby and stuck up, but every person working for their organization cared. They were working hard for others and not for their own gain. Harry might have it easy to write checks, so if he can give back, he will.
Tonight, Harry decided to be a bit bold. He left the velvet suit behind and wore a pink Alexander McQueen suit. A double-breasted jacket featured pink embroidered flowers with green stems and leaves down the front. He paired it with matching wide-leg trousers, a white button-down, and black boots. He felt confident in all his suits, but this one was special. It was the first suit he bought himself when he got his first client that would change his life. He knew it brought him luck, and he needed a bit of that tonight.
Every woman he encountered tonight had on a full-out gown. It seemed they were, for once, following the theme to a t. Harry was nursing an amaretto sour when a glimmer of yellow floated by in the corner of his eye. It seemed he wasn’t the only one whose attention was caught. The person went straight to Alexander, the host for the night. He looked elegant in a black suit with gold embroidery around the jacket sleeves and down the front that connected to look like constellations. His partner wore something similar, opting for a deep blue to bring out his eyes, the gold embroidery found coming up his sleeves ending right below his elbows. Harry knew they had an eye for design and liked when they hosted events. The two men hugged her, thanking her. He didn’t realize he had gotten closer until he was able to pick up her voice.
It was angelic. It was familiar. It was Y/N.
She was wearing an elegant yellow satin gown. It had a princess silhouette with puffy short sleeves. He could see the corset back from the few feet away he stood. He knows Dawn must have had to help her, and for some reason, he can’t take the idea out of his head of helping her loosen the corset and out of the dress. It’s a fantasy he needs to push away as Y/N happens to be coming his way.
“Ms. Y/LN,” he greets with a gentle smile.
“Mr. Styles,” she flashes him a bashful grin and makes her way across the venue to mingle with the guest.
Progress. 
That was progress. She offered him a gorgeous smile, one he knew would stay imprinted in his mind forever. Now, all he needs is to gain some courage. Throughout the evening, Y/N danced around him. It’s as if she could sense him coming and would shift in another direction, allowing them both to get tangled in conversation. Harry did not like the chase, but Y/N held all the power in her hands, and he’d do anything for a moment of her time.
Harry was tired, not of Y/N playing a game of mouse with him but of the event. Usually, he spends an hour at most and then heads home, but tonight he’s two hours in, and he’s tired of all the talks and acting like he isn’t dying to speak with Y/N, but he respects her, and he’s been an idiot for too long to ruin the foundation they have created.
He was watching couples on the dance floor, criticizing their waltz. Many were lost in conversation to remember the importance of holding their partner close and letting one person lead.
“Mr. Styles,” Y/N greets with a cheeky grin. He doesn’t hide his surprise as he looks away from the dance floor. He takes her in, admiring her shining eyes and perfect makeup.
“Hi,” he breathes out. “You look beautiful.”
Y/N offers him another smile, a more timid one than her previous one. “Thank you.”
“Would you like to dance?” Harry offers, extending a hand toward Y/N.
She stares at him for a second before placing her hand in his. He led her to the dance floor, his right-hand settling high under her shoulder, his fingers together and pointed down. Her left arm rests softly on his shoulder like a bird perched on a branch. Her hand arched, fingertips behind his shoulder and thumb in front. He feels the lightest touch. Y/N raises her head, meeting his eye as she places the palm of her right hand in the palm of his left, resting her fingers in the cradle between his thumb and forefinger. They both fold their things softly over each other. It’s a light touch, and Harry gets the sense that Y/N is well-versed in the waltz.
“Have you waltzed before, Y/N?” Harry asks as he begins to lead. It’s one of the easiest dances to learn but easy to get lost if a partner is not allowed to lead.
She scoffs, “Surprised?”
He shakes his head. “No, but I am intrigued.”
Y/N laughs, letting Harry lead her around the dance floor. “In undergrad, a few GEs are pointless.” Harry gives her a pointed look. “Come on, Harry. You know what I mean.” The truth is he does. “Anyways, I took a dance class and learned a choreographed dance, tap, salsa, and waltz. That’s only a few.”
Harry nods, impressed, “a woman of many trades, huh.”
She shakes her head because it’s useless talents, but they’re hers. Who knows when one day she might need them, like today, dancing with a handsome man.
“I love this song,” Y/N tells him as he brings her back from a spin. “Moon river makes you feel lost in time.”
Harry agrees, “thank you, Aubrey Hepburn.”
Y/N gasps in surprise, “you know Hepburn?”
“Shouldn’t I be asking you that?” He teases.
She feels her face flush because he’s right, but Y/N grew up watching these films with her grandmother every Sunday. Some children got taken to church, and Y/N was taught about the best movies to ever exist growing up.
“What’s tonight's theme?” Harry asks Y/N, no longer wanting to dance in silence. He loves her voice.
“Disney, but more specifically, Disney princesses,” she answers with a soft smile.
“And you are?”
She gestures to her dress, the beautiful yellow silk. “Don’t know, Ariel.”
He throws his head back laughing, she teases him with no care, and he loves that he did deserve it. It’s clear what princess she was trying to resemble. “You’re a beauty. You put Belle to shame,” he confesses.
Y/N bites back a grin. “Seeing as she’s an animated character. Thank you.”
Harry’s smile drops, and he falters in his seat, causing Y/N to stumble, but he rights her up like nothing happened. “No, I mean–”
“I know,” she breathes out, giggling at his panic.
As Harry releases the anxiety that passes through him, he goes back to complimenting Y/N. “You fit the role nicely.”
“Does that make you Gaston, my Beast, or Lumiere?” Y/N asks with a smirk.
He doesn’t take the bait.  “Haha, very funny.”
She shrugs, “I try.”
The song is coming to a finish, and Harry wonders how long she’s going to allow him to dance with her. “I’m no prince, but I’d like to be the person who’s able to capture your heart,” he confesses, putting everything out there.
“You’re a poet now?’
Harry smirks, “you don’t take compliments, do you, beauty?”
“I'm not easily swooned,” she confesses.
“I like challenges,” he answers carelessly.
Harry feels her stiffen instantly and knows he’s messed up. In a matter of seconds, he managed to ruin this fun, peaceful energy he had with Y/N.”
“Mr. Styles,” her voice cold and distant. “Thank you for the dance.”
She drops her hands and walks away. Harry reacts quickly. He goes to reach for her but thinks otherwise and instead calls her name.
���No, Y/N, wait, please,” he begs.
She pauses, turning to look at him.
“I shit- you make me incredibly nervous, and I hate that.” She frowns but lets him continue. “You make me question my every thought. Your beauty is overwhelming, and I–I’m older than you. I know that, and the fear of you not liking that or someone saying anything rude to you has stopped me from allowing myself to pursue you. I apologize. I’m so damn sorry.”
“The pursuit ended the minute you said no to me,” she tells him honestly.
“But I-”
She holds her hand up, and he stops talking. “I respect you, Harry. But I also respect myself. I’m not sure what game you’re playing, but I’m not taking any part. It was a wonderful dance, but I’ll be on my way.”
Harry knows she’s right. He’s messed up, but she deserves his honesty. “Y/N, let me say one last thing.”
She gestures for him to go on.
“I know I don’t deserve it. I know I don’t, but would you go on a date with me? No pretense or auction, just you and me where I can get to know you. I’d really love to get to know you.” He asks, putting his heart on the line.
She looks down at her heels, swaying back and forth, and the silence lasts a few seconds, but Harry feels it’s been hours by the time she replies. “Okay,” she agrees.”
“I respect–you will?” He asks, surprised.
She giggles, “I’d love to see you when you’re being charming because, truthfully, as much as I've been enjoying awkward Harry, I’d love to see more. You have my number, and it’s your only chance.”
Harry places his hand over his heart. “I promise I’ll treat you well. Thank you for saying yes.”
Y/N smiles, “I’ll see you soon, Mr. Styles.”
He couldn’t wait to see her for their date.
+
This was his third time standing outside Y/N’s apartment door. This time was different. He felt he could throw up from the nerves. He spoke with his Mum before driving to Y/N’s apartment and shared how he felt nervous about a date. She reminded him he needed to be himself and wear his confidence with pride. It’s something he learned from a young age.
Growing up, he had crazy curls that led to endless teasing, and one day he decided he had enough and got a haircut. He looked in the mirror the following day and didn’t recognize who he was. He let himself be influenced by others, and since then, he decided he wouldn’t care what others said about him. While in uni, he grew out his hair going through the long hair phase that drove his Mum crazy, but his sister loved it as he allowed her to braid it. It’s also when he began getting all his tattoos. Harry had to go through a journey of self-discovery to gain his confidence and keep it.
Tonight, he had confidence, but his biggest worry was Y/N not enjoying the date. All he wants is for her to have a pleasant time with him with no ruse or promise of a check at the end of the night.
Harry knocks twice and waits for her to come to the door. There’s a bouquet of pink roses in his hands because it reminded him of Y/N. He doesn’t know her favorite, but he’ll be sure to ask tonight. Y/N opens the door dressed in what he assumes is her casual wear. She’s got loose jeans and a black button-up she kept open with a white top under. A white ribbon in her hair made her messy bun look perfect. He notices this is another time he sees ribbon in her hair, and he’s curious to see how many strings she has and how many colors. She’s beautiful, and he’d happily remind her every chance he gets tonight.
“Hi, Y/N, you look beautiful.”
Y/N smiles, accepting the flowers he is offering her. The pink roses are beautiful as if there were just cut from the garden. She gestures for him to come in as she grabs a vase from her kitchen. He’s quiet as he watches her work in her kitchen. Once satisfied with how they sit in the vase, she turns her attention back to him.
“Thank you, Harry. It was very sweet of you.”
Harry shrugs, a blush setting on his cheeks. “Anything for you, beauty.”
Y/N’s back is turned to him, not allowing him to see her reaction to the term of endearment. As she grabs her bag and slips it on her shoulder, she offers him a squeeze on his arm, and he takes that as an okay to keep using it. As she’s locking up her door, Harry waits and asks about her day. She shares about having an easy day of classes and how she’s glad she didn’t have to work. Harry opens his car door and helps Y/N into the car. Y/N can see what he means by charming now.
The drive is filled with aimless chatter about the songs Harry is playing and how nice the weather has been lately. Y/N notices they’re headed toward a residential area and not into the city. Harry decides to share what he has planned for them tonight.
“I was thinking we can have a wine and paint night in my backyard if you're up for it.” He runs his free hand through his hair, sparing a look at her before focusing back on the road.
“You want to paint?” She exclaims.
He shrugs, “thought it’d be fun.”
She leans back into her seat, keeping her eyes on Harry as he holds a tight grip on the steering wheel. “I think it sounds perfect.”
Harry sighs in relief, good that’s good.
Arriving at Harry’s house, he feels his nerves coming back because he’s bringing the woman he likes to the place he calls home, where he finds comfort. It’s where he comes back home after a long day of work. He doesn’t know what he’ll feel after seeing her among all his things because he’s sure she’ll be a perfect fit and will struggle to let her go.
Y/N takes in the art pieces he has around the entrance of his house and photos of his family. The credenza by the entrance holds a key bowl where Harry drops his wallet and keys inside. He doesn’t remove his shoes and instead goes through the kitchen's double doors. Y/N isn’t sure if she is supposed to follow him, but a book on his coffee table captures her attention. It’s titled Raising Good Humans. She reads the first page as Harry makes his way back to her with two glasses of wine, one red and one orange.
She places the book down when Harry offers her a choice, and she accepts the orange wine, curious how it might taste. He gestures to the book, “I bought it for my sister, but I realized she probably won’t want to read it all, so I’m highlighting and bookmarking the important sections.”
Y/N hums in surprise. She didn’t take Harry for a caring guy, but here he is, proving her wrong. It’s clear how much he loves his family. “I’m sure she appreciates all the help.”
Harry laughs, “she told me she’s waiting to cash in for all the times I ever embarrassed her.”
“Oh, I understand being the youngest with an older brother. I swear he lived to embarrass me.” She shares that as much as she loved Matias, he was still a pain in her butt at one point in her life.
“Someone needed to look out for her,” he offers. “Come on, it’s out this way.”
His kitchen is gorgeous. The kitchen has color-filled floral wallpaper. There are pops of colors, making the backdrop feel neutral. The cabinets are maroon, closer to pink than red, and the three chairs are muted cyan that sit against the countertop. Y/N can see herself taking a seat there as Harry cooks them dinner. She shakes the thought out of her head and heads out the French patio doors where two easels sit side by side, a small stand in between them to hold their glass of wine and cheese that Harry has set up for them.
“I’m lactose intolerant,” she shares as she eyes the cheese.
Harry’s eyes widen in surprise, and he mutters under his breath. “I’m so sorry. That was insensitive of me not even asking what you would prefer. I have cookies if you’d like. They’re gluten-free though or–”
He cuts himself off when he sees her laughing behind her wine glass, and that’s when he realizes she’s joking. Harry shakes his head, their laughter mixing together in the air.
“I’m sorry,” she mutters.
“You’re cheeky, beauty.”
Y/N sets her finished wine glass down as she sees a black canvas apron with her name embroidered resting on what she assumes is her chair. She lifts it gently, running her finger over the yellow stitching. Harry slips his one, his last name embroidered on his, and she knows these must have been specially ordered. The material feels expensive and as if it were made with great care.
“Harry, this is too much.”
He laughs, “it’s nothing, Y/N. I wanted tonight to be special.”
She slips the top over her head and turns away from her, “can you help me tie the back?”
Harry steps close, standing right behind her, his mouth right by her neck. Y/N feels tense at the close intimacy. She doesn’t hurry Harry; she simply enjoys the closeness he’s offering her.
“All done,” he whispers.
She turns to meet his gaze, his eyes lingering before flickering to her lips. He nods, taking a step back, not wanting to cross any lines with her. He’s letting her set their pace.
“More wine, Beauty?”
“Yes, please. It was so good. It tasted just like an orange.”
Harry knows her lips must taste just as sweet. “It’s a favorite of mine. Glad you like it.”
He fills their wine glasses and comes back to sit next to her. He explains all the materials he has for them and how the painting to recreate is a lighthouse with a night sky background. It looks complex, and Y/N knows if she tries to copy it, it will look nothing like the original.
They began painting in silence. Harry had instrumental music playing and told her she could play what she liked, but she assured him she was enjoying the music. The silence was soon filled with chatter as Y/N asked questions, and Harry happily responded. What jobs did he work growing up? Bakery and a bookstore. If he was a good swimmer? Yes. His worst hangover? His best friend Mitch’s bachelor party in Greece. What he liked to bake? Cherry tarts. The questions never seemed to end because she wanted to know everything, but Harry was the same. He asked about her travels and where she wanted to go in the next year? Amsterdam. Her favorite movie? Pride and Prejudice. Her favorite book? A Thousand Splendid Suns.
Y/N was learning a lot about Harry and wanted to soak it all in, not forgetting anything. The first time she met Harry, she thought he was closed off and stuck up. That he had walls up so high, he’d never let anyone in, but Harry today was charming and kind. He gave her his undivided attention and asked questions wanting to get to know her. Harry was closed off because of his high position and how easily people had walked over him. Y/N had always worn her heart on her sleeve, but tonight with Harry, she wanted to keep it protected, but he made it so easy to give herself away.
“Are you ready, beauty?”
She takes a long look at her finished painting and decides she has no other choice. “Ready,” she breathed out.
Harry and Y/N turn their painting to each other, and Y/N gasps at Harry’s beautiful painting while Harry laughs at hers. Harry managed to draw a perfect resemblance of the lighthouse with the moon shining bright and the water so reflective that she felt if she touched it, her hand would go through the painting. “That’s gorgeous, Harry.”
Harry pointed to Y/N, “what did you draw?”
Y/N pouts, looking down at her painting. It might not be a lighthouse, but she loved what she painted. It’s a mermaid with short brown hair and a flower on their head. The scales of the mermaid’s tail were various shades of yellow, green, and blue. The mermaid was looking away into the deep blue sea background. It was nowhere near perfect, but she loved it. “It’s you,” she tells him. “As a mermaid–or well, merman.”
He points to himself, “that’s me!”
She giggles, proud of herself. “Yes, how I picture you if you were born a mermaid. I reckon you’d be the heir to the throne.”
Harry blushes and knows Y/N can tell. He doesn’t mind because she deserves to see the effect she has on him.
“I think I’d be a good-looking mermaid.”
“You'd be the prettiest mermaid in the sea, no competition.”
Harry giggles, letting the compliment soak in. “If you were there, I imagine I’d have a run for my money, beauty.”
She tucks a loose piece of hair behind her ear. “Harry,” she drags out his name, turning away from him, her smile wide. His dimples pop out as he holds back from teasing her and instead asks if she’s hungry.
“I’d love some pizza,” she tells him honestly.
“Then I’ll get you pizza, beauty. Any preferences for toppings?”
“Love jalapeños.”
“Is pepperoni and jalapeños alright?”
“Perfect, Harry. Thank you.” She leans in to give him a kiss on his cheek. Harry mumbles no worries, his face burning from the sign of affection.
Dinner was delicious, and pizza was the perfect meal to share. Harry wrapped the leftovers and slipped them into a paper bag for Y/N to take home. She argued he should keep it because he paid (she offered, but he refused), but he told her that he remembered life during university, and she couldn’t argue with that logic. Harry drove her home, promising he only had that original cup of wine, and then switched to sparkling water. While Y/N allowed herself to have three glasses, two during the painting session and one during dinner. The drive to her apartment was different than driving to his house. They went from quiet small talk and listening to Harry’s playlists to telling each other their favorite childhood stories.
By the time Harry pulled up to Y/N’s apartment, she had realized that more dates like this with Harry would make her fall deep in love with him. She didn’t know what he was thinking, but a second date sounded perfect. Harry opened her car door and walked her to her door. He handed Y/N her bag and the leftover pizza after she unlocked the door, and she placed the items on her small entrance table. She shut the door, turning to look at Harry and bid him good night. Y/N realized through the night, Harry was careful with his touches and would only reciprocate anything she initiated.
Harry stares at her with a dimpled smile, and she knows that smile will become her weakness.
“My favorite flowers are calla lilies,” she tells him as she leans against her apartment door.
Harry’s eyes open wide in surprise. Does that mean she enjoyed tonight as much as he did? “Does that mean we’re going on a second date?”
She smirks, “I’d be open to the idea.”
He steps towards Y/N, allowing her to stop him, but she doesn’t. Her hands come to rest on his chest. He’s thankful she doesn’t mention the quickening of his heartbeat.
“Is this okay?” He breathes out.
“Mhm…”
Y/N’s hands fist the ends of his open jacket. He doesn’t care if his jacket wrinkles. He only cares that she wants him closer.
Harry leans his head down, his nose brushing against hers. Y/N pulls him closer, desperate to close the gap between them.
“Beauty,” he whispers.
“You can kiss me.” She tells him, “I want you to kiss me.”
She stands on her tiptoes, her hand curling around the back of his neck. His skin is warm, and I grab the hair at the nape and pull him toward me. Y/N knew she would end the night kissing him when he showed up with pink roses at her front door, calling her Beauty.
His hands came up to her cheeks, his mouth eager as he deepened the kiss. It was all-consuming, she knew kissing Harry would be like no other, but this was everything. He was gentle but firm and in control of the kiss. He knew exactly what she needed and gave it to her. He tasted of cherries, his lip balm he told her he carried everywhere, never one for dried lips. It paid off because his soft lips were addictive, and after getting a taste, she didn't know how long she’d be able to go without him.
“You taste sweet, beauty,” he confessed, pulling back, giving her a dimpled smile when he saw the dazed look on her face.
“You can have another taste.”
Harry giggles, “if I knew a kiss would make you so kind, I’d have kissed you sooner,” he teased.
“You can keep kissing me now,” she offered.
Harry was tempted to say yes, to keep kissing her out here as the moon shined down on them, but he knew he’d see her soon. He’d make sure of it.
“I’ll call you tomorrow to plan out our next date.”
“Sounds perfect,” she promised him. “Goodnight, Harry.”
“Sweet dreams, beauty.”
Harry kissed her one last time, then broke away. She leaned against the door frame as she watched him walk towards his car, turning to wave at her one last time before driving away.
Yeah, Y/N was excited to see Harry again.
+
After their date, Harry spent every free moment he had with Y/N. Their second date consisted of bowling and wings. Y/N had managed to win by a landslide. Harry complained how it wasn’t fair and to make up for Harry being a sore loser Y/N was happy to indulge him in kisses. It seemed Harry was a winner after all. Harry promised her he wanted to keep seeing her, and Y/N repeated the sentiment.
It seemed from then, their time together grew. Harry would visit Y/N during her lunch on the days she was at work and grabbed dinner most nights after her internships. Harry would pick Y/N up from campus and ask her what she was in the mood for. The answer was almost always ice cream which he was happy to indulge her with.
Sunday, he came to learn were grocery days for Y/N, and after he paid for her the first time he went, he got banned from accompanying her again, which led to Harry sending her groceries every other week. She couldn’t get mad because, without fail, her bouquet of calla lilies would arrive soon after. Y/N had never felt affection this way, and after a talk with Harry, he expressed it was his love language and quality time. He thought he was overwhelming her and promised he’d do better, and it broke her heart for Harry to believe she was anything but appreciative. After talking, she allowed him to surprise her with small gifts, but nothing out of the ordinary because if he showed up with a diamond necklace, she would be breaking up with him.
“Does that mean we’re dating Beauty?”
She rolls her eyes, “unless you don’t want to.”
He clicks his tongue at her response, “now, don’t be mean, baby.”
Y/N seemed to always fall for his term of endearment; something about his accent got her going crazy. “Yes, Harry, we’re dating.”
Harry smirks, liking the thought of being Y/N’s. Their time from then on increased. From coffee dates to morning walks on the weekends and late-night phone calls when Y/N couldn’t sleep and would ask Harry to keep her company. It seemed to happen during the middle of the week, and he’d wake up tired the next day for work, but Y/N was worth it. She apologized every time she called and sounded like she woke him up, but he’d ask Y/N to tell him about her thesis, and she’d settled down as he listened intently and asked her questions when it was allowed.
On weekends Harry would come over to Y/N’s and spend the evening making dinner together, watching TV shows Harry has never heard of, and Y/N promised he needed to watch because he was missing out. Truthfully, he watched to indulge her but came to look forward to their time watching New Girl together. Their evenings started with them sitting next to each other, then her arm resting on his thigh and his arm over her shoulder. He realized Y/N was a big cuddler, always wanting Harry to hold her and be the little spoon. He didn’t mind loving how snug she felt against him. She started falling asleep halfway through the episodes, laughing when Y/N mumbled a reply to the show. Over time, they’d go from cuddling to Y/N sitting in his lap kissing, ignoring whatever was on TV. Their hands explored everywhere above clothing. They rocked against each other, but they’d always stop before taking it a step further, and Harry respected Y/N too much to cross a line she wasn’t ready for with him.
Harry was happy to have her kisses.
Y/N, at this point, had talked so much about her thesis that Harry could understand from a certain perspective what she was writing about and allowed him to read over his thesis and make any annotations for her to fix, grammatically, of course. Harry was honestly very proud of her; it was clear how much work and dedication she had put into her thesis, and he knew she'd do it with ease when it was time to defend it.
“You’re my smart girl, huh. Going to run the world.”
Y/N would hide her face in his chest when he began with the compliments, easily getting overwhelmed. It seemed that dating Harry had brought her happiness she never saw coming.
It was odd if they spent time at Harry’s house. It was more convenient for them to spend time at Y/N’s. Harry didn’t mind because he loved being surrounded in a space that was all hers. Tonight, Harry took Y/N to a sushi restaurant for dinner, and instead of driving her back home, she promised it was still early enough to go to his house and watch a movie. She batted her eyelashes at him, giving him a sweet pout, and he found himself saying yes. He can’t remember a time she allowed him to say no, not that he would ever want to.
Harry played a documentary he had wanted to watch, and Y/N promised she’d stay awake and that the coffee she had earlier in the day would help. Although he doubted it because her coffees seemed to always be on the sweeter side. It was half an hour in that he heard her soft breathing. He knew she would be sleeping until the end of the documentary. Harry was happy to have her cuddled to his chest, that she was comfortable enough to fall asleep. It was close to two hours later that the documentary ended, and Harry looked at the time and realized how late it was and that he still had to drive Y/N home.
“Baby, wake up.”
Nothing. He tried again.
“Beauty, come on. Got to get you home.”
She groaned, burying her face deep in his neck, not bothering to pick her head up.
“Come on, it’s late, baby.”
She raised her hand to her mouth, covering her yawn as she began to sit up.
“Hi,” he cooed softly. “I’ll give you a minute, then we can head out.”
Y/N shook her head, “can I stay?” she whispered.
Harry couldn’t hide his surprise at her request. “You want to stay here?”
“Please, lovie?” Her eyes were filled with sleep, and he wanted her to stay; of course, he did. Tomorrow was Sunday, and the fact that he had the chance to wake up to her tomorrow would not be something he passed up.
“Of course, baby.” Harry lifts his hand to cradle her cheek. She turns her head to kiss his palm; he feels himself melt at her affection.
He helps Y/N to her feet and guides her up the steps to his bedroom. She walks in and sits on his bed as he finds her clothes.
“There’s face wash, a spare toothbrush, and towels in the bathroom for you to use,” he tells her as he hands her an oversized shirt and spare boxers. She thanks him silently as she drags herself to his bathroom. As Y/N gets herself ready for bed, Harry does the same. He washed his bedsheets two nights before and knows it’ll be okay for Y/N to sleep in. As Harry slipped out of his button-up and pants, he wore shorts and an old Stevie Nicks shirt, not wanting to make Y/N uncomfortable.
She walks out a few minutes later, clothes in her hand, his oversized company t-shirt on her frame with nothing else. He’s quick to avert his gaze, surprised to see her only half-dressed.
“Were the boxers not okay?”
“Don’t want them to sleep. Is that okay?”
He nods “ of course, come on, let me tuck you in.”
Y/N drops her clothes by his window nook. Harry has imagined Y/N in his room more times than he counts but now that he has her here, he knows he’s never going to get the image out of his head. She gets under the covers and sighs when the cool sheets hit her skin. She scoots all the way to the middle of the bed. Harry checks to see if she’s comfortable and is about to turn the lights off and leave when she calls his name.
“Where you going?” Y/N asks, concern in her voice.
“To the guest room.”
“You don’t want to sleep with me?”
Harry’s heart feels heavy in his chest, seeing that he has upset her. “I didn’t want to assume,” he tells her honestly.
“Come, sleep with me.” She extends her hand to him, and he’s happy to accept. Harry throws the cover away and drags himself right next to Y/N, placing his hand on her waist and bringing her closer. She turns to rest her head on his chest, using him as a pillow.
“Is this okay?” He asks.
“Perfect.”
Harry closes his eyes but feels Y/N move. “What’s wrong, baby?”
“Kiss, please?”
If he wasn’t careful, he’s sure he’d fall in love with Y/N, but something tells him it’s a little late for that. He leans down and presses his lips against hers in a soft kiss. She hums in appreciation, letting him pull away without a fight giving her a final kiss on her forehead. Now they can both sleep content. As Y/N settles back down on his chest, about to close her eyes, a painting on Harry’s wall captures her attention. It’s hanging next to a photo of a lake in his hometown. It’s a mermaid painting, specifically the one she painted with Harry on their first date two months ago. She told him to keep it, but she didn’t think he’d actually hold on to it, let alone hang it up for him to see every day he wakes up. Y/N sighs against his chest, snuggling closer to him, feeling content to fall asleep in Harry’s arms, knowing she’ll be safe and cared for because Harry never fails to shower her in love and affection.
She can’t wait to make breakfast with him tomorrow, but for now, she’ll sleep.
+
Harry regretted inviting Y/N to the golf tournament. Pleasing hosts this golf event annually for new and old partners. He hadn’t prepared for how good she would look dressed in an active pink skirt and a white polo tank that hugged her figure beautifully. Her hair was up and out of her face, and she had a pink visor on her head to prevent sunburn. She looked prepared for a game of golf, where she promised she wouldn’t play besides chatting up the investors. He was clearly in over his head. Harry had taken one look at her when he picked her up and asked her if she wanted to stay home with him instead. She laughed, hopping into his car, reminding him he had promised her breakfast and she was craving a bagel.
“Beauty?”
“Hmm…” She turned to look at Harry with a beautiful smile on her face, just for him.
He reaches over and brings her in for a kiss. He sighs against her mouth, happy to have her here with him. As much as he loves his company, he only does this to make more connections and keep his company growing.
“If you get tired or hungry, just let me know, and we can take a break.”
She shakes her head, “this is important for you,” she reminds him. “I’ll be fine. Plus, you fed me and filled my water bottle.” She rubs her tummy to show him how full she still is.
“Doesn’t matter. You’re my priority.” He assures her.
Y/N scrunches her nose, placing a kiss on Harry’s cheek. “You’re an absolute sweetheart, lovie.”
Harry hurries out of the car to help Y/N out, earning him another kiss, he’s tempted to push her up against his car and keep kissing her, but Y/N seems eager to see him golf. He checks them in and gets the keys to his golf cart as she waits on the side, looking at the clean facilities. She overhears the receptionist telling Harry they’ll start at hole one on the east side, and his guest will be sent that way.
She trailed behind Harry taking in the lovely view in front of her. His outfit was anything but ordinary. He wore pastel yellow flared pants that hugged his ass just right. A black polo tucked in and a simple Gucci belt completes his look. He decided against a hat but had his glove ready on his left hand for that extra support. Y/N loved the contrast of his tattoos and how his tan skin seemed to shine due to the sunblock she helped lather him in. He almost always has hidden his tattoos, wearing a suit and sweater. She knew it was because of work, and he was easily cold, but she never took moments like these for granted. The contrast of tattoos on his arms while his left hand had endless tattoos, his right hand only a few. She had to wonder what he hid underneath. She had only ever seen the peek of two swallows on his chest.
“Beauty, you alright?” Harry is standing against a golf cart numbered thirteen. It’s been known to be an unlucky number, but she’s never seen it that way.
She shakes away her thoughts and focuses on the man in front of her. He’s been nothing but a sweetheart since the moment they started officially dating a few months ago, and she’s thankful she decided to give him a chance and that he proved to be a good person and not the cold man she met many moons ago,
“Sorry, I was just admiring. Haven’t been to the golf course in some time.” She takes his extended hand and slides into the golf cart, his hand settling on her bare, exposed thigh. A shiver runs up her spine. She’s ready to take it to the next level with Harry but has no idea how to bring it up.
Harry and Y/N don’t have to wait long when a group of men and a few women come and greet Harry. There is a mix of young and older individuals chatting, and Y/N right away spots the man who keeps to himself, much like Harry. He’s an older gentleman dressed in black slacks, a maroon vest, black gloves on both hands, and a frown on his face. Harry introduces her to Jeff, Niall, and Tyler, his good friends. He promised her if she needed anything, she could ask them. They were all welcoming, asking her questions, not a lot of teasing, but they assured Y/N that Harry wasn’t the grump he made himself out to be.
During the first few holes, a lot of conversation was happening, and Y/N sat in the golf cart because she didn’t know how she fit into this crowd. She was a graduate student among these men and a few women who run these million-dollar companies. She hated that Harry felt obligated to bring her because it was their date night, and he didn’t want to cancel their plans. He convinced her when he told her he’d miss her too much if he didn’t see her this weekend.
Harry, after every swing, turns to find Y/N, who’s already looking at him. He came over, and she’d kiss him, telling him how impressive the swing was and that she knew he would win. Slowly, Y/N began to let herself mingle and talk with the other players. She seemed to always gravitate back towards Harry and his small group.
Y/N was standing, arms crossed, visor lowered as the sun beamed down on her. There was a lot of chatter when she realized that the man with the vest who caught her eye was alone again; she decided to approach him as Harry was wrapped up in conversation.
“Hi,” she greets. “I’m Y/N.”
The tall man with eyes as blue as the ocean turns to look at her. He looks at her stretched hand and reaches out to shake hers. “Malcolm Levington. A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”
“You as well, Mr. Levington.”
He grimaces, “Malcolm is fine.”
She shrugs, “if you say so.” Before he can ask what she’s doing speaking with him, she asks a question. “What is it you do?”
“I’m the owner of Star Horizons,” he shares.
“The hotels,” Y/N gasps.
He laughs, “the very one.”
“Oh, your hotel ballrooms are hard to get a hold of. I’ve been trying to plan an event there for ages. It finally happened a few months back, but it hurt to be told the wait was so long.”
Mr. Levington frowns, “what event was it?”
“Oh, uh, we had a private action event for Hermanas Unidas. They wanted to raise money to open a second location. We exceeded expectations thanks to generous donations and hired full-time staff to get it up and running in two months.”
“That’s wonderful. I heard about this event; it was one of the smoothest experiences we have ever had. We had no problems with staff or guests. We got a lot of guests to come back and stay with us. Were you in charge?”
She grins proudly, “no, I work with the sub-events teams. It’s part of my job to help nonprofits with their events to get donations.”
“Impressive work. Would you care to tell me more?”
Y/N happily indulges Mr. Levington as he tells her about the degree she is working towards. She shares about each event she has worked on. He offers ideas on how to help and ideas for new events. He promises to attend her next event.
“Y/N?” Harry calls her name, interrupting their conversation.
“Harry, I was speaking with Mr. Levington,” Y/N tells Harry, holding onto his forearm and giving it a loving squeeze.  
Mr. Levington looks between Y/N and Harry, a curious look on his face. “Are you his wife?”
“Oh, he’d be so lucky,” Y/N tells Mr. Levington, a loyal partner to Pleasing. She found out a mere seconds ago as Harry whispered it in her ear.
Harry laughs, “Y/N’s my–”
Y/N rolls her eyes. These men don’t need to know about her and Harry, not that she’d mind him showing her off. “Enough about me. Tell me about that TaylorMade Stealth PLus Driver you have there. I hear it has low spin.” She points to the clubs a few feet behind them.
“You golf, Ms. Y/N?” Mr. Levington asks, surprised.
Y/N leads the man away, turning to look at Harry, offering him a wink as the man tells her about his clubs.
They’re about to head to the next hole when he sees Y/N still chatting. The man held on to her every word.
“Now I hear the Sims 2 has a better grip as it’s more lightweight. But don’t take my word for it, I haven’t had the chance to swing it, but from what I’ve heard Harry and Mr. Rowland discuss, I’d say you ask him for a chance to swing, but I do know how you all are about your clubs.” She tells him, knowing she is setting up Harry for an interesting conversation.
“Y/N,” Harry calls for her once again. She turns to see him with a bright smile on her face. “We’re ready for the next hole. Y/N loves to chat, Mr. Levington”.
“She’s a dear. She was telling me about your driver. Seems she thinks mine has a problem.”
“Now, now, don’t go twisting my words,” Y/N chastises.
“Only teasing, Ms. Y/N.” Mr. Levington turns his attention back to Harry. “Think you’ll let me take a swing, Mr. Styles?” Mr. Levington asks.
Harry offers him a sincere smile. “We can work something out.”
“A pleasure, Ms. Y/N.”
Harry stands with a hand on her waist as they watch him walk away. “What did you do, you little minx?”
“What do you mean?” She feigns innocence.
“That man,” he gestures to Mr. Levington, walking next to Jeff with their caddy. “Always comes to our events and never says a word. Here you have him yapping on and on about clubs you probably don’t care about.”
“You’re right. I don’t,” she confirms.
“Then, beauty? You don’t have to be flattering all these old men.” He tells her honestly.
“Jealous, H?” Y/N teases, stepping closer to him, her hand resting on the back of his neck.
Harry hums at her touch. “Course I am. Prettiest girl here on the green don’t want to share you with anyone.”
She leans on her tiptoes, pressing a quick peck on his lips. “Promise I’m enjoying myself.”
“Will you still ride with me?” He asks her, as he hadn’t helped her onto the golf cart after each hole.
“Am I driving?” She waits expectantly.
He offers her the keys, which she snatches up before he can even think of pulling his hand away. “Now, now. Give me a proper kiss, and we’ll go.”
She doesn't even fight him, simply leans in and kisses him. Harry hums at her sweet cherry taste. He knows she must have stopped the cart girl and asked for a Shirley Temple with extra cherries, her favorite.
“Come on, Harry. I want to see you flex those muscles as you swing that club around.”
She skips towards his golf cart labeled thirteen. He sees her skirt bounce, and he groans. He takes a moment to remind himself to breathe. He could do this for a few more hours. He might lose his mind by the end of the evening, but he would endure it.
Safe to say, by the time they reached the last hole, Y/N had all of these men eating out of her hand. Each person listens as she tells another story.
“She’s a good one,” Mr. Levington tells Harry as Y/N tells the others about the time she went to a museum, and security gave her a private tour because she resembled a famous artist. “Never seen anyone so charming. Surprised she picked someone as sour as you.”
“Hmm…clearly, her magic worked on you. Can’t remember the last time you spoke to anyone besides your clubs,” Harry answers honestly, knowing he is lucky to have Y/N.
Mr. Levington chuckles. “Touche Styles. Keep her around. She's good for business and you, it seems. That facade has dropped.”
“Yeah, she’s one of a kind.”
“H,” Y/N yells, “Come tell them about the penguin. How he’d follow my every move.”
“Seems you’re wanted, Styles.”
They bid each other goodbye, and he makes his way over to Y/N. Harry doesn't think twice before taking her outstretched hand, launching into the story of how both penguin and Y/N had been amused with each other.
By the time they get home, Y/N’s exhausted. She wasted all her energy conversing with everyone and now needs to re-energize. Harry stopped by and got them burgers on their way to his house. They were quick to devour in the parking lot.
“Can I stay here?” Y/N asks as she throws herself on his couch, landing face down.
“Don’t want to go home, baby?” He slips off her shoes, giving her calf a squeeze.
She lifts her head searching for him. “If it’s okay. You got that nice bath I want to soak in, please.”
He walks over to her, planting a kiss on her head. “Course you can, beauty. I’ll go set it up for you.”
The bath is the perfect temperature as Y/N sinks in, sighing as her body relaxes. She apologized to Harry because she knew he was the one who must be exhausted from a long game of golf, but he was quick to assure her that it made him happy to take care of her. There was an abundance of bubbles around the tub, so she called Harry back into the room. She wanted him to keep her company.
Harry sat down at the edge of the tub, a bowl of strawberries in hand that he knew Y/N would be happy to eat. He offered her one, and she took a big bite humming at the sweet flavor filling her mouth.
“Yummy,” she giggles.
Harry thumbs away the bit of juice running down her chin; he brings his thumb up to his mouth and licks it clean, “yummy, indeed.”
Y/N feels her face flush and wants to sink underwater but keeps her gaze on Harry. She’s naked in his tub and wants him to touch her. She just has to let him know.
“Another, baby?”
She shakes her head no.
He frowns but doesn’t fight her; instead places the strawberries on the counter. He settles back down until Y/N gestures for him to come closer. He smirks but does as she asks. He leans in close until they’re nose to nose, and she presses her lips against his. She moans as Harry slips a hand in her hair; he pulls back as Y/N looks up at him, dazed. She follows him, but he doesn’t let her kiss him. Y/N whines for him to come back.
“What do you want, beauty?”
Y/N pouts. She doesn’t want to say it. Isn’t it clear what she wants?
“Harry,” she whines.
“Need you to say it, Y/N. Not a mind reader.”
Y/N sighs because he’s right. She leans forward, pressing a kiss to his thigh through his pants. “I want you to touch me,” she breathes out. She lifts her head, meeting his gaze. “I want you to touch me, please.”
Harry runs his hand down her neck, following a water droplet until he reaches the top of her breasts. “Is this okay?” His finger skims along the top, and Y/N wants more. She needs more.
“Yes,” she huffs, eager for his touch.
His hand sinks into the water, caressing her breasts, and she leans into his touch, moaning as he gets to know her body more intimately. He shifts position to kneel next to the tub, his hand pinching her nipples until she hisses from the contact. His lips settled on her neck as he bites down in different spots. It’s all so much, but Y/N is loving every second. His hand dances over her until Y/N has enough and directs him to where she needs him. His fingers glide over her steadily, whispering touch that works her into a frenzy, filling her with need. His mouth drifts down her jaw to the delicate space behind her ear. He swipes his tongue across her skin before blowing cool air, and a shiver wracks her body.
“Harry,” she whispers.
He finds her clit, rubbing his thumb back and forth in circles as he gives her the pleasure she’s been searching for. She loses her train of thought as he curls one finger inside her and rubs her in all the right places, bringing her closer to the edge faster than she thought possible. Her orgasm is fast and blinding. She grips the tub’s edge so hard that her hand aches, but Harry doesn’t stop.
“One more,” he whispers, his mouth tangling with hers in a hot kiss as they battle for control.
She shakes her head, “c-can’t.” She doesn’t think she’s ever orgasmed back to back with a partner in bed. She orgasms just fine, she can admit she’s had shit partners in bed before, but no one has ever treated her with so much care and passion as Harry.
“Oh fuck,” she yells as Harry wipes away the bubbles uncovering her breasts. He moves away from her lips, not caring that there’s water spilling over the edge as he drags his tongue over each pebbled tip promising Y/N next time, he’ll focus more attention on them.
Each touch Harry gives her is magic. She loves how in control he is of her body as he works to provide her with what she needs. His thumb moves quicker over her clit, two fingers moving in and out of her slick, making it easier for him. Y/N’s body gives in to Harry, and she knows she’s close once again. Y/N throws her wet arms around his neck because she needs him close. She feels herself tip over the edge. Breathless and satisfied.
“Gorgeous,” he mutters against her soft neck. “My beauty was gorgeous.” Each word is followed by a kiss.
Y/N feels heavy but relaxed as he holds her close to her breasts against his soft polo.  “H,” she manages to breathe out.
“Alright, baby?”
“Magic,” she giggles, her chest heaving as she leans back into the water, trying to catch her breath.
Harry laughs as he carefully separates from Y/N to reach for a towel from his towel warmer. She notices the towel and perks up, only now realizing how cold the water has run.
“If an orgasm is all you needed to be, my good girl, I would have begged to give you one sooner,” he tells her teasingly. Y/N whimpers at his words, leaning into his touch as he helps her out of the tub, still a gentleman as he averts his gaze. “Let’s get you in some clothes and then to bed.”
“Kisses and cuddles?” She requests quietly.
Harry chuckles. “Course, baby. Anything you want.”
+
Y/N had never been so comfortable in a relationship.
She had always been a confident, independent person. Yet, when it comes to Harry, she has come to let herself be taken care of because she sees he finds joy in caring for her. Y/N had never had an equal partnership where her partner put her needs next to his. She understood he was running a billion-dollar company, and she was finishing her degree soon. They were at two different points in life, but Harry always treated her events and exam nights with so much importance it sometimes overwhelmed her.
Harry was happy with her, and that’s all she could ever ask for. Date nights were reserved for the weekends and coffee dates during the week, and Harry always made time to pick her up from campus, so she didn’t have to ask for a ride from a friend. He made himself a part of her life effortlessly.
For a long time, she worried about how she fits into his life, but after dinner with Harry’s friends one weekend, she learned how much of himself he had already given her. Harry held her hand during dinner and asked what she liked to order, going as far as to order her second food option in case she didn’t like hers. He kissed her cheek any chance, not wanting to overwhelm her and his friends with PDA but also reminding her that he was thinking of her. The little things made her realize she was falling in love with Harry.
As Y/N met Harry’s friends and heard embarrassing and loving stories about Harry, she knew it was time for Harry to meet her friends properly. Sapra tried to convince her to invite Matias and Isaac, but Y/N wanted to save meeting her brother for another time. Harry suggested brunch, and Y/N couldn’t argue with that logic. If Sapra or Dawn said anything too embarrassing, she’d just get them drunk on mimosas.
“Are you nervous, Y/N?” Harry asks as she keeps her eyes on the restaurant's door, waiting for her friends to walk in.
Honestly, she was nervous because they knew everything, from when Harry rejected her to when she danced with him. She knows why they are a little weary (Sapra more than Dawn), but they haven’t had a chance to see how Harry really is. Y/N had told them how happy Harry made her. That he dedicated time to her and made her feel important and loved. She knew her friends would accept her if she saw how happy she was, but she also wanted them to like Harry.
“Is it our age difference?”
Y/N frowns that hadn’t even crossed her mind. “No, is that something you think about?”
Harry sighs, reaching down to grab her hand and bring it up to his lips, placing a gentle kiss. Her eyes stay on his face trying to figure out what he’s feeling. “It’s crossed my mind,” he shares honestly.
“It’s not a concern for me,” she promises him.
His green eyes focus back on her, and Y/N sees the glimmer of a smile. “I know, Beauty. It’s not something you’ve ever brought up, but I fear if one of your friends brings it up, then it’ll concern you, and I’ll most likely end up losing you.”
Y/N wishes they weren’t having this conversation now, but it’s her fault for being lost in her head when she should have been assuring him that her friends would love him. “Harry, lovie, I’m in this with you. In this relationship, it’s you and me. No one else. Thank you for being honest with me, but my friends do not influence how I feel about you.”
Harry fails at biting back a smile. He lowers his head, closing the gap between them in the booth. “How do you feel?”
Y/N knows she can be cheeky and tease Harry, but she wants to assure him that she sees a future with him and hopes he feels the same. “I’m crazy about you,” she whispers.
He doesn’t respond but connects his lips against Y/N’s, getting lost in each other, not noticing Y/N’s friends being directed by the hostess to their table. Harry pulls back breathless, allowing himself to get lost in Y/N’s eyes. “The feeling is very much mutual, beauty.”
“Hey lovebirds, can you not do whatever before I’ve eaten,” Sapra teases, pointing at how Y/N is fisting Harry’s button-up tightly. Y/N feels her face heat up and pulls away from Harry.
Dawn flashes them a smile, “it’s nice to officially meet you, Harry. This one’s always talking about you.” Dawn gestures to Y/N, who giggles bashfully against his shoulder.
Harry kisses her cheek, whispering how cute he is before turning his attention back to Dawn and Sapra. “Not as much as she talks about you both, I bet. It’s a pleasure to meet you both.”
As Y/N’s friends are telling Harry story after story, she realizes that she’s falling in love, and by the way, Harry is holding her hand tightly in his lap that he is too.
+
Harry has never been so happy to have someone make themselves at home in his house. His mother and sister had always told him it was too large for one person, but he told them it wouldn’t always be him. He didn’t know what he wanted in a partner, but after meeting Y/N, he realized he was waiting for her.
It was too soon to say he was in love, but he was basically there. Harry had no intention of letting her go, and by how Y/N enjoyed showering him with kisses every chance she could, he knew she wasn’t planning on leaving anytime soon.
Everything was perfect.
She found herself in his study when she needed a quiet place to study. Usually, it meant he gave up his chair and settled on watching her from the couch next to the window. She would have her laptop in front of her, and if he let her, she’d work for hours without a break. He took it upon himself to bring her a snack and drink every hour to ensure she was well nourished. Harry found pleasure in cooking and making snacks because it was one way she allowed him to take care of her.
This evening Y/N was working on her laptop while Harry read a report for the upcoming month. Y/N sighed, closing her laptop and leaning back into the chair. He lifted his head in concern to find her already looking at him, a frown on his face.
“Beauty, what’s wrong?”
Y/N throws her hands up, “you're giving me too much?”
“Sorry?
“I didn’t need a new bag.”
She’s talking about her backpack ripping, and Harry thought nothing of replacing it for her.
“Your old one ripped.”
“My shoes were perfectly fine,” she fires back.
“The laces were barely holding together,” he reminds her.  
“I didn’t need new underwear.”
Harry smirks, “now that was for my pleasure.”
Y/N huffs, “Honey, I’m serious. I don't need all these material items.”
Harry sighs and pats his lap for her to come to sit. She does so without a second thought. She gets comfortable straddling him as his hands rest on her hips.  
“I like providing for you,” Harry expressed.
“I can provide for myself, mister.”
He nods because he knows she can. “But it makes me happy.”
“Harry,” she deadpans.
“Gives me a love boner.”
Y/N scoffs, slapping his chest playfully. “Be serious.”
Harry’s hands cradle her face, his thumbs rubbing her cheeks affectionately. “Baby, you could run me dry, and it gets me going because it means I was able to take care of you.
She sighs. “God, you're so cute,” she mumbles.
Harry grins, knowing he’s won. “Will you be my good girl and let me spoil you?”
Y/N nods slowly. He leans in to kiss her, but she stops him. “If you ever give me a diamond, I'm out,” she reminds him.
“Got it, no diamonds…. What about pearls?” He jokes. At least, she thinks he is.
“Lovie,” she exhales.
Harry has decided he’s had enough of the conversation and kisses her. Y/N always tastes so sweet. He gets lost in exploring her mouth against his that he doesn’t realize she has started rocking against him. Since Harry had given Y/N two orgasms in his bath, they’ve been more physical, but Harry isn’t in any rush, and neither is Y/N. They’re taking it slow, learning every part of their bodies before taking that final step in their relationship. He pulls back the dimples on display, he runs his index finger over Y/N’s swollen lips.
“Popcorn and Survivor, beauty?”
“Oh, Styles, you sure do know the way to a woman’s heart, don’t you,” she teases.
Harry pecks her lips. “Only yours, beauty. Only yours.”
+
Y/N couldn’t believe Harry would do this to her.
Harry sent over a large red box with a bow holding it closed. The carrier bid her goodnight, and she hurried to her kitchen to open the package. Removing the lid, she found a gorgeous emerald green dress. She picked it up, admiring the silk, and quickly pulled her phone out of her sweat pocket to call Harry. He answered on the first ring.
“Hi, beauty,” he greets cheerfully.
“Harry, tell me you didn’t.”
“Didn’t what?” He feigns.
“You sent me a dress for tonight.”
“Ah,” he giggles. “That I did. Do you like it?”
“It’s gorgeous.”
“Good. I'll be there at seven to pick you up.”
“You want to go together?” They knew they were both attending, but for some reason, she assumed they’d arrive separately.
“I didn’t get a matching tie for nothing.” He laughs. “See you soon, beauty.”
Y/N hurried to get ready, excited for what the night had in store for her and Harry.
Harry knocked on her door at seven on the dot. She rushed to the door, swinging it open and telling him to come in as she rushed back into her room. He laughed because he had never seen Y/N frazzled, and here she was, rushing, knowing she was running late. Harry put the blooming calla lilies in a vase he knew she kept under her sink.
“Shit, I’m sorry, Harry. My curler was being stupid, and then I couldn’t find my heels.” She huffs as she stands at her entrance, slipping on her heels.
Harry takes a minute to admire the dress on her. It’s an elegant satin spaghetti strap dress with a high slit up her left leg. Her hair is in an elegant updo, with a few strands framing her face. She’s gorgeous, and she’s all his to show off tonight.
“You sure you don’t want to stay home tonight?” He asks, reaching his hands out for her to take.
She shakes her head, knowing exactly what he is thinking. “Absolutely not. It’s a big night.”
And it was.
Y/N’s internship was hosting their gala of the year, where she played a prominent role in helping with the budget and the guest list. He would never keep her away from an event where she was an important guest.
Y/N grabs her clutch that holds her most essential items, such as her lipstick, ID, cash, and keys. She’s telling Harry she’s ready to go when she catches a yellow vase on her table filled with her favorite flowers.
“H,” she sighed. “They’re beautiful. Thank you.”
He kisses her cheek. “Anything to see that pretty smile.”
As she focuses on Harry staring down at her, she realizes she didn’t kiss him hello. Y/N leans in close, pressing her glossed lips against his. Harry hums at the familiar feel. He wants to take it further but knows they need to get going.
“All set?” He whispers.
“Yes.”
“Let’s go then, my gorgeous date.”
Arriving at the venue, Harry offered his keys to the valet as Y/N was helped out the door. Harry met her by the first step and offered his arm. She happily accepted. Walking in, Y/N was awed at the displays of gold scattered around the room. The table decorations were pristine, the lights were perfect for photos, and the ballroom was full of people. As soon as they were inside, Y/N was whisked away by her director, Valentina. Y/N gave Harry an apologetic smile but promised to find him later. Harry had always been good at spending time alone, but for once, he wished Y/N could have paraded him around the room as they introduced each other to people they knew. He knew that time would come.
It’s a beautiful and busy evening; at one point, a waiter finds him a single drink on a tray and hands it over to him, saying that a woman in an emerald green dress sent it to him. It was an amaretto sour, his new favorite. Y/N smiled from across the room when she saw him raise it in her direction as thanks.
The event was winding down, the string quartet was playing their final songs, and Harry was ready to call it a night. After an entire evening away from him, Y/N managed to make her way across the room and stood before him.
Y/N perks up as she hears the opening notes to the song the quartet is playing, their song. Moon River. Harry doesn’t tell her he’s turned the song into her ringtone.
She holds her hand for him to take, and he takes it without a second thought until Harry realizes she’s leading him to the dance floor.
“We’re going to be the talk of the town,” he tells her looking at the lonely dance floor.
Y/N shrugs, “it doesn’t matter.”
As opposed to the first time they danced together, holding space between each other, they were much closer this time. Y/N wrapped her hands around his neck, and his hands found their place on the low of her back.
“If I’ve learned anything, it’s that your opinion is the only one I care about,” Y/N promises him.
Harry’s dimples break through and she grins, leaning up to give him a sweet kiss. She settles back in his arms as their song plays, lost in their own world.
“You know,” Y/N lifted her head, resting on his shoulder. “You once told me you didn’t dance, and yet this is the second time I have gotten you to dance, hmmm?”
Harry laughs because she’s right. “I was waiting for the right partner,” he affirms.
“And is that me?”
“Beauty,” he says softly, his emerald eyes locked on hers. “It could only ever be you,” Harry promises.
Y/N smiles in delight. They might not have had the easiest journey to getting to this moment, but Y/N knew she wouldn’t change anything for the world.
Dancing with Y/N on an empty dance floor to a song he knew had now become theirs, he knew meeting Y/N would be the thing to ever happen to him in life, and he couldn’t wait to see what the future had in store for them together.
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thank you so much for reading! i love you endlessly, amores 💜
please come tell me what you loved or your favorite part on anything at all. always happy to receive a message. 
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cumikering · 1 month
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Neighbour Ghost x reader 2
2.1k | fluff You had many dinners with Simon (part 1) (part 3)
Simon Riley white-knuckled the vegetable peeler against the poor carrot in his other hand like it owed him money.
He’d knocked on your door that morning with the full intention of being helpful, but it was painfully difficult to hide the fact that he was beyond clueless as he stood there at the counter. He even dressed for the occasion, wearing a loose black shirt to not dirty his sleeves. It was his first time seeing you in something other than a hoodie, and he caught your momentary gaze on his tattooed arm.
Sure, he kept telling himself each time he came up with an excuse to have you over was for his mum’s company. It made him happy to see the smile on her face as she chatted with you, your laughter filling his otherwise quiet flat. But was it really for her company now, when it was just the two of you as he embarrassed himself?
Regretting what he thought was a brilliant idea, he glanced at you, absolutely horrified of being a hold up and ruining lunch.
You didn’t even look up from the pot you were stirring. “You know, I really don’t like doing the dishes. Would you like to help with that instead?”
A small sigh of relief escaped him as he dropped everything on the cutting board, thankful you spared the sliver of dignity he had left. He did most of the cleaning while he watched you. You said you weren’t the best cook, but your movements were serene, easy. You didn’t look like you were going to chop your fingers off, and to him, that made you far above decent.
Evidently, Melanie complimented the meal generously while Simon simply asked for a third helping. He beat you to the dishes after that, not allowing you to lift a finger after all the cooking you did.
At your door, you turned to him. “In case I don’t see you again before you ship out-“
“You will. I leave Thursday morning.”
“Oh.”
“Can I have your number?”
You handed him your phone and Simon Riley called himself from it.
“I’ll see you around, Simon.” You smiled at him.
Again, he only left when you’d closed your door. When he entered his flat, his mum looked up from wiping down the dining table.
She sighed softly. “How long am staying, Si? It’s been over two weeks now.”
“As long as you want, mum. I’d rather you here.” He walked over to her. “At least I know you’ll be safe.”
“What’s going to happen to your dad?”
“You wouldn’t let me bash his face in, and he’s not my dad. Not sure he ever was,” he said gravely. “I can’t tell you what to do, but I just need to know you’re safe. That’s all I’m asking.”
She turned away, the discomfort evident in her eyes. Simon knew the look to well.
“You need to leave him, mum,” he said under his breath.
“I think I’m going to stay a few more weeks, two months tops,” she finally said. “Until things settle. I’ll look for a job meanwhile.”
“You really don’t have to.”
“I want to feel useful, Si,” she reassured. “You’ve been too kind to me.”
“Never enough.”
When's the latest you can have dinner before it's not called dinner anymore? Simon texted you Monday afternoon.
Is this the premise to a joke?
He tilted his head. On second thought, it did sound like one of his dad jokes.
No, was a genuine question actually.
9, maybe. Why?
I'll be home before 7:30. Would it be okay to wait for me for dinner until then?
Who's cooking?
Takeout chef down the street. You pick who the lucky bloke is
You smiled as he stood at your door with takeout in hand. The way you looked at him made him question his clean shaven look that day. Did he look too much like an adolescent with no scruff?
Simon didn’t like making conversation, let alone with someone as sunny as you, but he was surprised to find that he wanted to put himself in a social situation with you. Still, he wasn’t used to it. He tried saying more, he really did, but the most he managed to tell was that he was an apprentice butcher back in Manchester before he enlisted, and that he was a currently a lieutenant in the SAS.
After dinner, you sat facing each other on your small couch sipping on tea, knees almost touching each other’s.
At this point, he noticed you didn’t look away as much as you did the previous instances. Either you’d got used to his unyielding stare or his attempt to appear less scary succeeded. You didn’t ask further about his job, and he hoped it was because you thought it was mostly confidential, not because you were afraid of him. That was alright though, you were far more interesting than his work anyway. He enjoyed watching the way you lit up talking about your interests.
Perhaps it was patronising how he wondered why you could be so much like sunshine in this bleak world, walking around like no one was going to break your heart. He found your generosity reckless, even foolish. Guilt pricked his heart for having these unsavoury thoughts, yet he was still utterly and shamelessly fascinated by your smile.
Despite him not wanting to leave, he excused himself for the night before it was remotely late.
“The day at the base starts early, yeah?”
He gave you a small smile. “Same time tomorrow?”
You nodded.
“Good night, luv.”
On his way to the lift, he knocked on the door of his own flat. His mum answered, clutching her cardigan close to her chest.
“Oh, Simon. I wasn’t expecting you.” She stepped aside. “Are you staying the night? I’ll get the bed-��
“No, ’m just dropping by.” He closed the door behind him.
“Did you need something? Have you had dinner yet?”
“I did, yeah.”
A knowing smile tugged on her lips. “Was it with someone I know?”
“Wanted to say good night and make sure everything’s alright.” A blush might have crept up his neck as he stepped in for a one-armed hug.
But the next night, Simon dropped by again before going back to base.
“Why are you here every day now?” Melanie looked at her son with a teasing smile. “I’m not complaining, but I thought you said you were too busy to come home.”
“Can I not want to see my own mum?”
“Sure, Si.” She gave him a playful side eye. “Let me see what ingredient I’m missing, in case you want to run to the shops.”
He groaned. “I’m shipping out Thursday. Wanted to take you somewhere nice for dinner tomorrow. Get yourself an outfit. Use my card.”
“How nice!” She beamed. “Is she coming with?”
He looked away. “I didn’t invite her.”
“Would you like to?” When he gave her an unsure look, she reassured, “I don’t mind at all. She’s sweet and I’m happy you’re meeting new people.”
Of course it didn’t take any convincing for him to invite you to his favourite steakhouse in the city. In fact, he very much looked forward to having another excuse to see you, especially dressed up. Not like you didn’t look nice, but thinking of taking you out made him giddy. He suddenly didn’t dread the med evals, trainings and briefings he usually detested before each deployment.
When he arrived at base, your reply waited.
Thank you so much for the invite. The place sounds lovely, but I don’t want to intrude. Have a nice evening you both!
His shoulders sagged. Can I at least see you after dinner?
Mrs. Riley beamed when Simon picked her up with a rose in hand. He didn’t remember ever seeing her so dressed up, and he was glad to have given her the opportunity to. She gushed over the delicious dinner, the wine and how polite the waiters were that it brought a bittersweet smile to his lips.
He could tell how much the evening meant to her, and it broke his heart that no one had cared for her that much in a very long time. He held her hand as they walked back to his flat.
“You be safe, Simon. I’ll be waiting for you,” she hugged him tight at the door as her voice wavered, her eyes brimming with tears.
He gave her a squeeze, feeling the emotions rubbing off on him. “Will do, mum. I’ll be home as soon as I can,” he said into her hair.
She gave him a kiss on the cheek before he headed to your flat.
Simon didn’t recall feeling this heavy upon shipping out in recent memory, but as you answered the door in your loose shirt and shorts, his arms ached to wrap around you. Instead, he shoved his hands in his trousers pockets.
“Would you like to come in?”
“I can’t,” he said. Because if I did, I wouldn’t want to leave.
You looked away, seemingly a little embarrassed by his rejection.
“May I ask why you didn’t want to come earlier?”
You stepped out into the corridor, closing the door behind you. “I feel your mum would appreciate it more if it’s just the two of you, that’s all.”
“Maybe next time with you then?” he asked hopefully. “Just us?”
You nodded and a smile blossomed on his lips in return. You both lingered a few more seconds in silence.
“I’m wishing you and your unit the very best on your mission. Please take care out there.” You cast your gaze down.
He caught the wobble in your voice and the sincerity was the push he needed. You barely had time to react to him stepping in for a hug. His arms encircled your frame loosely, but tightened as soon as yours wrapped around his waist. He curled over you, inhaling your scent as your breath tickled his neck.
The lack of distance only highlighted how much he towered over you. He was sure you could feel his racing heart under his turtleneck, but he didn’t care. He just wanted to hold you.
“Let me know when you’re back,” you said when he pulled away.
“’course.”
Simon very much looked forward to your texts whenever he had time to himself. While he asked you about your days, he unfortunately couldn’t say much about his. Instead, he sent you photos of the sunrise, or the shit cup of tea he was having. In return, you sent photos of the Hereford sunset and your meals. He said the kind of food he ate would ruin your appetite.
You told him his mum got a job at that bakery you loved – you knew the owner. On some days if her schedule allowed, you could walk back home with her. Simon thanked you for keeping her company, knowing how much she must have appreciated it.
The two weeks seemed to roll by a litter faster than usual. You were the first to know as soon as he was scheduled to fly back. He said he’d probably get home a late, but would love to see you if you had the time.
At his first knock, rapid footsteps came from behind your door which you swung open with a grin on your face. “You’re back!”
“May I come in?”
You made way for him, and when the door closed behind you, he stepped in, arms lifted a little. With a chuckle, you closed the gap, squeezing him tight.
“Are you available for dinner tomorrow?”
You pulled away. “No, going out with friends.”
“Oh,” he muttered. “Sunday then?”
“That’ll do.” You smiled, walking backwards to the kitchen. “Come, I’ll make us a cuppa. Co-worker gave me some oolong tea.”
His eyes softened. “Sorry, can’t stay long, luv. I’m going back to base.”
“But tomorrow is Saturday. I thought you stay home on weekends.”
“Yeah, but it’s too late now. I don’t want to bother my mum.”
You gestured at the couch with a chuckle. “I’d offer you this, but it’s way too small for you.”
It wasn’t that he didn’t want to bother his mum - he wouldn’t. He could get in and out the place without a sound, nor was your couch a problem. He could sleep on the floor and it would still be better than some of the places he’d had the pleasure to sleep in.
He wasn’t ready yet, especially not when he just got back, with his mind still reeling 1000 miles an hour.
“That’s okay. I can head back.”
Your brow rose at him. He understood how silly it was now, driving all the way to you at this hour to not even stay 15 minutes. It was embarrassing, if he was honest, how much he was transfixed on seeing you that he didn’t even think of the logistics of the visit.
“Sorry, I’m not a late sleeper. I’m dead tired and always sleep like a log the first night back.” His eyes flicked to your lips as he swallowed. “I’ll pick you up Sunday?”
You smiled. “Where are we going?”
“The same place. I think you’re going to like it.”
@tiredmetalenthusiast @shadofireshinobi @keegansshark @two-gh0sts @rowanyaboats @mangoguy @fruitymoonbeams-blog @ghostslittlegf @luvecarson @sparrowgalaxy @insert-weird-name @nocturnalreader106
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bethanydelleman · 6 months
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Hello!
I rewatched Pride and Prejudice and it's surprising how my thoughts on it changed over the years 😃
When I was a teenager, Elizabeth Bennet was the plucky heroine that I wanted to be (lol) , now I'm older with a mortgage and responsibilities/bills, I'm like what was her plan in life?
Because she wasn't really educated per se (im thinking about how she answered lady Catherine about what she has to recommend her re:drawing, playing the piano etc) so I guess a 'career'(no matter how little it would be available at that time) was out of the question, but accepting marraige to the (admittedly obsequious) Mr Collins was also out of the question as well as Mr Darcys first proposal (which I get why sge turned it down!) ...I guess I'm asking what Elizabeth's plan for her future.
I've heard this from a lot of people upon re-read, "Why isn't Elizabeth more worried about her future?" I think there are a few things to note.
Early 1800s or not, Elizabeth is 20 years old when the novel begins (the average age of first marriage for women was 23). 27 year old Charlotte is in more of a future panic, but Elizabeth is still young. She has done practical thing like learn to play piano, but like most young people, she's probably just hoping for the best. And it's not like there is much she can actually do, Elizabeth is putting herself out there, she's dancing, she's playing piano, but otherwise she can just hurry up and wait. Her mother's marriage schemes are seen as vulgar and mostly backfire, and we would hardly want Elizabeth to act like Caroline. We read across Austen's novel's that women are largely stationary and it is the men who move in and out of their lives.
Also, I think a big part of Austen's point is that women are in a position where they feel the need to accept any and every proposal, because as Mr. Collins says, they may never receive another, but that this leads to misery (just look at the older couples and how many of them are unhappy!). While somewhat foolish from a financial perspective, Elizabeth is thinking about her long term happiness. She has watched her father turn bitter in an unequal relationship, she does not want that for herself. Elizabeth is choosing possible spinsterhood over being married to a person she knows she could not respect. Marrying for love, or at least on a basis of respect, is a big theme in Austen's novels. Let me add this quote from Mansfield Park to illustrate this point:
“I should have thought,” said Fanny, after a pause of recollection and exertion, “that every woman must have felt the possibility of a man’s not being approved, not being loved by some one of her sex at least, let him be ever so generally agreeable. Let him have all the perfections in the world, I think it ought not to be set down as certain that a man must be acceptable to every woman he may happen to like himself.... And, and—we think very differently of the nature of women, if they can imagine a woman so very soon capable of returning an affection as this seems to imply.”
So yes, Elizabeth Bennet isn't being financially prudent but she is being sensible in preserving her happiness. And for realism, we know Austen made this decision herself! She turned down an eligible offer.
Next, Mrs. Bennet is somewhat exaggerating: they are very unlikely to starve or be destitute. While it is never explicitly stated, Mr. Gardiner seems to be doing very well, and would probably very happily take at least Jane and Elizabeth if Mr. Bennet died. Mr. Philips is also doing well for a country attorney, he could take in his sister-in-law and nieces. It is going to suck, the Bennets should have planned better, but it's not the end of the world. We also do not know Mr. Bennet's age, but he may well only be in his late forties. He's no Mr. Woodhouse who may die tomorrow in a stiff breeze.
So what is Elizabeth's plan? She doesn't have one, she's 20. She's hoping life will throw her a man with a decent income that she doesn't hate. It works out in the end, but I don't think she would live to regret either turned down proposal if she had never met Darcy again.
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Zoro x Fem Reader fluff and NSFW! S/O is a sweet and gentle lover, being like the opposite of Zoro. She always takes care of Zoro, like giving him blankets during naps, water and towels and massages during his training, etc. But Zoro hasn’t done much for her as a lover, which everyone but S/O reminds him. Zoro tries making it up by taking her to a flower field date. S/O is so happy, playing with the flowers that Zoro couldn’t help but fall in love with her innocence and kindness even more.
S;DUFDFVHJDOI;FDS;SDJF;OS THE WAY I SQUAWKED AND FOLDED FOR THIS REQUEST because I relate to it sooooo much oh my goodness gracious. I was so excited to write this and kept thinking about how to approach it, (which you can tell from how long it is... I got SUPER carried away lol)!!! Thank you SO MUCH for this request!!! I also used post timeskip Zoro because he seems more serious and stoic, and just imagining him being soft and blushing and in love just sidfjduhgsdijfo;i ugh okay? I headcanon that Sanji hides the sake and beer from Zoro just because he can. I don't know yet if it ever actually happens, but I would not be surprised.
🍶 Wordcount: 6.2k (DO NOT EXPECT THIS NORMALLY PEOPLE, I JUST HAD FUN WITH THIS AND WENT OVERBOARD BY A LOT)
Warnings: light angst, kinda cheesy romance (leave me alone I'm a romantic), kinda ooc fluffy soft!Zoro (because I'm a SLUT for soft zoro), SMUT - (oral/fingering, f!receiving, penis in vagina sex, squirting, mild choking m!receiving, f!reader getting railed by Zoro)
There is a section written in green from Zoro's POV.
Okay I'm literally so proud of this piece. That's it. Thank you, and enjoy.
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ALL CREDIT TO ARTIST BUT I CAN'T FIND THEM but it's the perfect image for how I describe Zoro looking at you adoringly :3
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"All I'm saying is that if I had a lover like her, I'd give her everything and anything" Sanji quipped from his place in front of the stove.
"I didn't ask you, ero-cook. I love her and she knows it. That's enough. Stay out of my relationship" Zoro snapped from the pantry, searching for some alcohol.
"You should say 'our' relationship, idiot marimo. It's you and her together."
Zoro slammed shut the pantry, rattling the wall. The cook hid all the alcohol from him again.
"I don't want advice from a love sick fool who can't get a woman to save his life. At least I have a girlfriend" he spat, stalking towards the door.
"Yet you're arguing with me, trying to find alcohol to go drink alone instead of spending time with her. After everything she does for you." Zoro spun around angrily, hand on one of his swords, but was interrupted by the door to the eating area opening. You stood in the doorway hesitantly, immediately sensing the tension in the air, and the way it thickened at your presence.
"Oh. Uh. I stashed an extra bottle of alcohol away for you for when San-... uh... you couldn't find any... so... here" you held out the bottle. It was a bottle of decent sake you had swiped and stashed last week for the inevitable time the cook hid all the alcohol from your boyfriend, which you had seen the blond doing earlier.
"Thanks" Zoro muttered as he took it from your hand. He walked out the door, leaving you with the cook. You didn't miss the glower the cook sent towards the swordsman's back at his dismissive attitude, but you ignored it. You walked into the kitchen, distracting Sanji from his annoyance with a sweet request for two cups of water. He quickly got them for you with an exaggerated flourish, causing you to giggle. At the innocent sound, his smile turned sad before he became serious.
"You do too much for him and don't get enough in return" he muttered. Your heart clenched.
"He loves me in different ways, away from where people can see. Unfortunately, it's hard to do that on a ship" you said, shrugging off the comment. You knew it was true. You knew he loved you, he just... had lofty goals. It's hard to find time for romance and giving your lover attention when you're training constantly to be the worlds greatest swordsman, and first mate to the future pirate king. You knew that going into the relationship, and you were content with giving him attention so he knew he was loved.
"Besides, if he knows I love him, that's all that matters to me" you said.
"He doesn't even take you on dates when we go to islands" Sanji said quietly.
"It's pretty hard to do when he has the directional sense of a rock, and he somehow usually manages to get into some sort of trouble" you dismissed easily. The cook sighed, turning back to the stove.
"As long as you're happy, but I'd be glad to kick his ass for you if you ever feels like he needs it" he offered. You snorted, grabbing the waters as you made your way towards the door.
"You'd do it if he even looked at you wrong, let alone pissed me off" you teased, opening the door. Sanji waved goodbye with a sweet smile, knowing what you said was one hundred percent true. You rolled your eyes, making your way to the deck towards Zoro. It was evening, the sea breeze sweeping away the heat of the day, cooling the air to a comfortable temperature. The sun was starting to set, the sky turning gold with strokes of pink and red towards the horizon.
Your boyfriend was enjoying the last vestiges of sunlight on the deck, sprawled on his side with his head propped in his hand. You stood and admired his features for a second. His short green hair seemed more vibrant in this light, and his eyes closed gently, the scar over his eye shining with the different texture. The light hit his exposed chest just right, highlighting and shadowing his muscles that he worked so hard for. He brought the bottle of sake up to his lips and took a swig. You watched as his chiseled jaw moved as his throat bobbed. His earrings glinted in the golden light at the new angle. You swallowed, feeling butterflies erupt in your stomach.
"You just gonna stand there?" he asked, lowering the bottle from his lips. A drop made its way down his chin but he wiped it off carelessly with the back of his hand. You cleared your throat, flustered that you had been caught staring. You made your way to sit so he could see you with his good eye. You silently held out the glass of water, glancing at him quickly.
"You good? You look like your blushing" he said, letting his fingers linger over yours as he accepted the glass of water. One of his ways of showing innocent affection.
"Yeah... You just... You're so beautiful" you breathed honestly. Zoro blushed slightly and grunted, looking away from you. You giggled quietly, able to read his reactions like a book. He was surprised and flustered.
"Not my choice of description" he mumbled. You decided to tease him further.
"No? I could say you're pretty, or stunning. I could say you're handsome, sexy, strong, amazing-"
"Shut up!" he swatted your thigh lightly. Now he was beyond flustered, blushing all the way to his ears. You dissolved into laughter, falling onto your back as you clutched your stomach. You missed his gaze, staring openly at you with awe, but he controlled his expression quickly before someone saw him. Your laughter eventually faded, and you eased yourself up to lean on your elbows to watch the sunset. Streaks of purples, oranges, pinks, and reds painted the sky.
"Tomorrow we should arrive at a spring island" you said quietly. Zoro grunted quietly. To anyone else, it sounded like a simple acknowledgement that you spoke, but you heard his silent invitation to continue.
"It's famous for the flower fields that grow wild there" you said, awe and excitement coloring your voice. You didn't notice his curious glance towards you.
"Yeah?" he prodded. You sat up fully, hugging your knees to your chest, your expression dreamy as you let the visual of the current sunset coloring imaginary wildflower fields form in your mind.
"Mmmhmm. I told Chopper I'd go with him" you said quietly.
An idea bloomed in the swordsman's mind, but he kept his expression neutral.
"For medicinal herbs?" he asked. You nodded.
"I'm excited" you said dreamily. Zoro hummed, a plan forming behind his neutral face. He'd need to ask some favors, which he hated, but to see you smile it was worth it.
----
The next morning you woke up with more energy than usual, the excitement to visit the wildflower fields evident in your actions. All morning, you asked Robin about her flowers, and she lent you a book about the flowers you were likely to see on this island. You devoured the information until Luffy exclaimed loudly that he could see land. You worked off your extra energy running wild around the ship with him and Chopper, feeding each other's childish excitement. You didn't see Zoro anywhere, but assumed he was training in the crows nest.
The ship finally docked, and you waited impatiently for Chopper to finish gathering what he needed before the two of you leapt off the ship.
"Oi! Wait up! I'm coming with you two" your boyfriend called out, sounding exasperated as he slung a bag around him. Your happy surprise showed in a small squeal and a jump into his arms once he caught up. A wide grin donned your lips and you laughed as he tsk'd at your behavior and pushed you back by your forehead.
"Did you shower?" you asked, surprised. Normally it took you promising alone time or a bottle of sake to get him to shower regularly.
"So what if I did?"
You shrugged, grabbing his hand as you turned away.
"C'mon! Let's go! And don't let go of my hand. I don't want you getting lost"
You lead the way through the town, the three of you stopping to buy some drinks before continuing. Chopper got chocolate milk, Zoro got sake, and you tried a popular local flower tea. You asked the shopkeeper directions to the flower fields to make sure you were going the right way. He nodded, but leaned forward, indicating at your hand in Zoro's.
"The fields are a tourist attraction, but there's a place that's out of the way and much prettier, if you're looking for a more secluded area." You opened your mouth to say it didn't matter, but Zoro leaned forward, intrigued. You realized he probably wanted to take a nap in the quiet area, so you nodded and asked for directions. You thanked the shopkeeper with a few coins as a tip for his information, and set off with Chopper and Zoro in tow.
"You didn't have to give him money just for telling us that" Zoro griped. You rolled your eyes.
"You just say that 'cause you're in huge debt to Nami" you teased. He bristled slightly.
"He offered up the information for free!"
You shrugged.
"You repay kindness with kindness. That comes in different forms for different people"
Zoro grunted, having no reply to that. Chopper spoke up.
"Ooo you're so nice! But the directions the man gave you leads to a different area where the herbs I need don't grow. Is it okay if we split up? I'll be fine by myself, and you can go enjoy the beautiful area."
You hesitated. You told Chopper you'd help him find herbs, but the offer to spend alone time with Zoro without other people disturbing you in a flower field sounded too tempting. Your boyfriend squeezed your hand.
"He'll be fine. Let's go. You're excited right?"
You exhaled, and ran your free hand through your hair before smiling down at Chopper.
"You sure?" He nodded determinedly at your question, then ran off with a quick goodbye and a promise to be safe. You watched him for a bit, but turned around when Zoro tugged on your hand.
"C'mon. Lets go" he urged. He began leading you, but you quickly stopped him, a smile tugging on your lips.
"That's the way we came from, babe. This way."
He huffed in embarrassment both at his mistake and your pet name, but let you lead him. You reached a fork in the path just outside the town. One sign indicated the path lead to the flower fields, but you headed down the unmarked path, following the shopkeeper's directions.
"Oi. The sign said the other way. You sure we're on the right path?" your boyfriend asked. You glanced at him with a single raised brow and a smirk.
"I love you so much Zoro, but I'm surprised you even realized the sign was referring to the other path"
He blushed and spluttered, indignant at your quip and flustered by your easy admission of your feelings towards him. You cut him off with a soft laugh.
"Hurry up! I can smell the flowers already!" You broke into a quick jog. The swordsman easily kept pace with you, staying by your side even as you let go of his hand. You focused on the path ahead of you, missing his quick, adoring glance at you. There was nobody around, after all.
A few minutes later, you rounded a corner of a rock face, and your view exploded in vibrant colors. Shades of purple, pink, yellow, orange, green, and blue dotted the field sprawled in front of you. You gasped audibly, in awe of the view in front of you. The air was thick with the sweet scent of flowers, the breeze wafting their perfume around you as it brushed the petals and bowed the thin stems in waves. A lone apple tree stood in the middle of the field, matching the rustling of the field as the breeze threaded through it's boughs. The field led to a cliff, which looked out over a hidden cove. The beach below was white sand and turquoise waters.
You stepped forward hesitantly, unwilling to crush any of the beautiful plants. A warm hand landed on your lower back, nudging you forward. You couldn't tear your eyes away from the flowers.
~~~~~~~
He wished you could see yourself from his point of view. His life had been dark and full of violence, but you brought innocence and raw love to his life. You were the light to his shadows, the food for his soul, the gentleness to his calloused fighting.
Your awe at the flower field in front of the two of you froze your entire body, your hand curled in a gentle fist against your chest, over your heart as if checking you weren't dead. You were hardly breathing, as if unwilling to disturb the beauty in front of you.
Tears shone in your eyes, overwhelmed by the excitement and unfiltered, pure awe of the beauty in front of you. You took a small step forward but stopped. He placed a gentle hand on your lower back, nudging you slightly forward. You deserved to experience the beauty he could never bring you as a person.
You deserved everything his crewmates said you did. The open affection, the love, gentle smiles, and innocent caresses, returning the small gestures and kindness you unthinkingly did for him. You massaged his muscles when he over trained, patched up his minor injuries after a fight, and brought him water and fresh towels when he was working out. He wanted to give back. To run a finger over your cheek before kissing you gently, to play with your hair, to cuddle you when you frowned.
Yet, selfishly, he couldn't bring himself to be seen doing it. He couldn't let anyone know you were his weakness, that he loved you enough to give up his dream of being the worlds greatest swordsman for you. It wasn't that he didn't trust his crew, he did. It just terrified him knowing how deeply you affected him- how much he loved you, and how much he would sacrifice for you. He would even destroy the very sun if you asked.
He let his gaze wander over your face. Innocent and pure adoration, the tears in your eyes at the view that surpassed your expectations. You looked beautiful, but he couldn't bring himself to say it because he was falling even harder for you. He nudged you forward gently again with the hand on your back.
She deserves everything.
"Go on. You deserve it" he said quietly.
He met your gaze, letting himself show his affection for you, removing the wall he put up to keep his expression neutral. Fresh tears gathered in your eyes, and he chuckled at your innocence.
"Get out there or I'll carry you" he teased. With a nod, you shuffled forward, and crouched to gently caress the delicate petals of a flower. He could hardly tell them apart, but you had been studying them all morning. You sniffed the flower, and you gazed at the field before suddenly taking off. Your unabashed, pure and kind laughter carried over the field, making him smile at your innocent joy and excitement. You opened your arms as you spun, as if to hug the breeze that tangled it's fingers through your shining hair. Your face turned towards the sun as you breathed deeply, a smile never leaving your face.
He couldn't help the answering smile that graced his own lips. Your beauty and joy sent his heart fluttering as he made his way to the lone apple tree to set up the meal he had packed the two of you, courtesy his begrudging ask of Sanji. He wanted the best for you, and even he had to admit the cook was good at his job.
He was supposed to stay and watch the ship today, but he asked Franky to instead. The damn cyborg had even started bawling when he explained begrudgingly that he wanted to take you on a special date. He considered asking Brook to be nearby to play some of your favorite songs, but he really wanted it to be the two of you during this date, so he asked him to do it tonight, back on the ship. He asked Robin and Usopp to work together to buy some seeds and plant you some flowers from the area in a small planter, so you could always have a little bit of this spring island with you. He even asked Chopper to make an excuse to find the herbs somewhere else. It was lucky that the shopkeeper guided the two of you away from where the reindeer actually needed to go.
He flicked open the blanket, spreading it on the ground beneath the tree. He saw a few ripe apples in the branches, and picked them easily. He heard your footsteps approaching, but didn't look back, focused on reaching the last apple, just out of his reach.
~~~~~~
"What's all this?" you asked breathlessly. Zoro didn't look back. You slid off your shoes before stepping fully on the spread blanket, placing them neatly next to Zoro's boots.
"'s for you" he said before jumping a little to grasp the apple he was trying to pick. As he pulled it from the tree, the branch shook, raining petals and leaves on the two of you. You giggled. He turned around, gaze landing on you, and froze. His eyes were wide and his mouth parted. A blush was coloring his cheeks a red under his tanned skin. He had only reacted like this the first time he saw you naked in his bed. You noticed he had a leaf stuck in his hair, and you chuckled as you reached out to pluck it from his head. He started a little, and pulled you close with an arm around your waist.
"What's wrong?" you tilted your head.
"You..." he trailed off, plucking a light pink petal from your hair.
"Me?"
"God I love you so much" he breathed. Your eyes widened, and you gasped lightly. It was kind of rare for him to say it, preferring to show you. He took a deep breath, exhaling as he cradled your cheeks in his hands. His thumbs drew matching gentle circles on your cheeks, and he lowered his forehead to yours, eyes closed. One of your hands came up to cradle his, the other resting on his hip.
"I know I should be more open about it. I'm a selfish bastard because I just can't let people know that you're my weakness. I can't let them know that I'd give up my dreams, to be the best, for you. Because when I'm with you... nothing else matters. I'd tear down the sun and the moon if it meant you would always be happy and safe. I can't show it because I can't lose you."
His voice sounded strained, as if it caused him pain to speak like this. Your voice caught in your throat, unable to form any words. You could only surge forward in a desperate kiss, which he matched in fervor. You couldn't get enough of him, shoving your tongue into his mouth clumsily to explore it. He grunted in surprise, but quickly adapted, returning the favor quickly. Your hand that was resting on his wrapped around to thread through his windswept hair, and the one that was on his hip slid to his bare chest, trailing down to his haramaki. He groaned into your mouth, his own hands skimming down from your face, featherlight touches down your shoulders and sides until he reached your hips. He broke the kiss, breathless.
"You drive me insane, woman" he muttered as his hands cupped under your ass. He tapped his hands twice, and you took the hint, looping your arms around his neck and jumping to wrap your legs around his waist. He lifted you easily, and you kissed him again. He moaned into the kiss, and you answered with a groan. He knelt smoothly on the blanket, lowering you to your back gently. You broke the kiss, looking at him softly as he hovered above you, hands caging your head.
"You drive me insane too" you muttered with a smile. He smiled lovingly at you.
"Pretty sure that's part of the boyfriend job description" he answered, leaning down to nose your jaw. You huffed a laugh as he tickled your neck with butterfly kisses. You rarely saw this side of Zoro, and each moment made you fall more in love with him. Usually it was desperate, passionate kisses that lead to fucking, and while that was nice, this felt more like you were going to make love. You dragged your hands down his chest, reveling in the warm touch and the chiseled muscles.
"Zoro"
"Hm?" He broke away from your neck, meeting your gaze. Your hands drifted to the front of the shoulders, flexed as he held himself above you.
"I want you" you whispered. His eyes flared with lust.
"Whatever you want, princess" he muttered, lips brushing yours with his words. He covered your lips with his, slightly chapped and tasting like the sweet sake he had on the walk here. You groaned, and you let him explore your mouth with his tongue, running over your teeth and tangling his tongue with yours. Your hands threaded through his hair, scratching his scalp the way he liked. He broke the kiss from your lips and started kissing down your neck, gently biting in places before licking and kissing it as if in apology. A hand wandered under your shirt, caressing your belly, sides, and breasts.
"I don't tell you nearly enough. You're beautiful"
Your breath hitched, and you raised a hand to cover your mouth in shyness. He sat back, and pulled you sitting upright with his movement. He helped you strip from your shirt, decorating your chest with soft kisses. You tilted your head back, a blush on your face, unused to the loving attention. Normally it was pawing and tearing at each other's clothes in desperate lust when you finally got some privacy, but this... this you liked. A lot.
You moaned lightly as his hands deftly removed your bra, then eased you back down gently onto the blanket. He cupped your breasts, thumb rubbing gentle circles over your nipples as his tongue laved over the other one. You moaned quietly, raising a curled hand to your lips in embarrassment. Zoro caught it before it even reached your shoulder, and popped off your nipple to catch your eye as he hovered over your chest.
"Let me hear you. Please." His voice was deepened with lust. You nodded at him, sure your blush was prominent. He huffed a small chuckle, letting himself look at you with all the love he had, a genuine close-lipped smile curving his lips softly.
"Let me take care of you today" he said, kissing the back of your fingers.
You tangled your fingers with his, gazing at him, "Z-zoro".
He leaned down to kiss your lips chastely, before allowing himself to travel down your neck and chest, planting soft kisses on your skin. He whispered praises unabashedly, knowing he could show his love for you openly here. It was safe. His hands kneaded your breasts as if to ground himself.
"I love you so fucking much"
"So beautiful"
"I love how you do so much for me"
"I love how you show me you care for me"
"I love how innocent and carefree you can be"
"I'd give you the world if I could"
He slowly made his way to your shorts, nipping lightly at the skin of your tummy before sliding his hands down your sides and removing your shorts and panties. You lifted your hips to help him. He hummed in appreciation at the sight of you laid bare in front of him, better than any meal he could ever taste. He gently spread your legs, and you tried to keep your thighs closed out of embarrassment. He soothed his warm calloused hands on the outside of your legs, from hips to ankles. He easily placed your knees on his shoulders, and eased himself forward. You parted for him automatically.
"There's my good girl" he cooed. Electrifying heat pooled in your lower abdomen at the words. His words were usually somewhat degrading, which you loved, but his praise trailed heated fingers down your spine. You moaned, and you could feel him smirking against the fat of your thigh as he kissed it. His fingers slid their way over your slit, finding your hole and collecting some slick so he could rub your clit. You hummed at the sensation, breath starting to come faster as you began to lose yourself to his ministrations. His fingers were gently drawing circles on the outside of your clit, making sure you didn't get too stimulated right away.
His face lowered in tandem with his fingers, his tongue quickly finding your clit as his fingers prodded at your hole. One slid in and out a few times before the second finger joined and together, they prodded up into that one spot that sent your toes curling, right as he flicked his tongue expertly on your clit. Your orgasm was sudden and blinding, squeezing around his fingers and your hands finding their way to his head, bringing him closer. He groaned into your cunt, lapping at you like his life depended on it. Your moan was loud, head thrown back and back arched sweetly for him as your thighs squeezed around his head. He only eased his onslaught of pleasure as your thighs loosened their grip and you were pushing away his head.
Your chest was heaving from your pleasure, and he was catching his breath from being happily squished between your thighs. He licked the shiny release he could release from his face, dragging the back of his hand across the rest of his face.
"You like being praised that much, princess?" he teased, a smirk on his face as he shed his coat and haramaki with practiced movements. You could only stare as his muscular frame rippled under his tanned skin. He leaned over you, caging you with his hands on either side of your head. He chuckled, but it was different from the dark laugh that promised difficulty walking the next day. There was a light blush on his cheeks, and he looked genuinely happy. You looked in awe, having never seen this expression on his serious face. He brushed his lips on your cheek, then pulled back.
"You deserve to hear it."
You couldn't help it. At those words, tears brimmed your eyes. Zoro panicked. He sat back on his heels and immediately brought you to his lap, holding you.
"Oi! Wait! Don't cry! Did I hurt you? What's wrong?"
You shook your head, a watery smile breaking through.
"Just... who are you and what have you done with my Zoro? You're all sappy!"
He rolled his eyes and flicked your forehead gently.
"I'm tryna be romantic for once, treat you like you treat me constantly" he muttered, scowling as he looked away. You dissolved into giggles.
"There you are! There's the man I love." He huffed.
"Did you wanna fuck or not?" he asked bluntly, shifting his legs so you could feel his hard length trapped in his pants. It sent the heat of arousal swirling through your veins again.
"I wanna make love" you cooed with a smirk in his ear, pressing your chest against his bare skin. He hissed out a breath.
"Lay down then, princess" he growled in your ear. You could feel him smirking against your cheek, "Let me make love to you" he teased, throwing your own words back at you. His fingers trailed down your spine, landing on your hips. You shifted off his lap and made yourself comfy on the blanket. He stood quickly to removed his pants, but you didn't miss the quick scan of the area to make sure you were alone. Not that he cared if people saw the two of you fucking, he just didn't want this experience ruined.
He sank down and crawled over your form, spreading your legs wide to kneel between them. You absolutely loved when he fucked you in missionary. He was so big and strong, and he stretched you out so well. He surrounded you and was inside of you, and it was both a calming and euphoric sensation.
He stroked his large cock with one hand, the other balancing his weight by your head. You dragged your fingernails up his arm, landing on the back of his shoulder.
"Please, Zoro" you murmured. His silver eye widened a little before his lips curved up softly. He lowered himself in a sort of half one-armed pushup to rest on his elbow. You didn't miss the casual show of strength. Showoff. He eased the tip into your wet pussy, and you hissed in a breath through your teeth as you turned your head into his forearm, biting lightly. Zoro laid kisses on your neck and jaw, distracting you from the stretch. His other arm came up to the other side of your head.
"Good girl. Doing so well" he murmured in your ear. You shivered, the words in his deep voice making you groan. He took it as an invitation to continue, and he slowly began to sheath himself into you. You were soaking. His praise, kisses, godly body, and obvious love all affected you deeply.
"Shit. So tight and wet"
Your hands curled into claws, lightly scratching down his back as you whimpered. He shushed you, caressing a finger down you cheek.
"So good. Taking it so well" he murmured before kissing your lips. You could only moan into the kiss. You raised your legs to rest on his sides and hips. He reached deeper and you moaned loudly at the sensation.
"Good fuckin girl. Doing so good for me. Took my whole cock on the first try" He moaned into the flesh of your throat. You whined, arching your back. The new angle hit something devastating deep inside, and you mewled.
"Look at you, so beautiful for me"
"Zoro~ move" you moaned. He started slow, letting you get used to the stretch, but quickly built his pace to a steady, smooth one that sent you keening. His thick cock was dragging along your walls, pulling out enough so his tip was pushing gently on your g spot, before pushing in smoothly with a roll of his hips that had his cockhead pushing that one spot deep inside. Your breath was heaving, interspersed between moans and calls of his name. It was so good, but you couldn't quite reach the peak.
"Please, let me cum" you begged desperately. Zoro grunted above you, raising himself so his palms were beside your head. He hardly broke his rhythm as he looked at you with a dark smile.
"I thought you wanted me to make love to you" he teased. You reached up, cupping his cheek with a hand.
"Romance me later. Fuck me. Now"
"As you wish, princess" he mocked.
He pulled out, kneeling in front of your hips as he slung your legs over his shoulders. He simply picked up your hips, and started slamming his cock in and out of your pussy. Skin slapping together echoed across the field, and your wails followed. With your back bowed off the ground, you had no control over your hips, but the angle was incredible. Your hands gripped the blanket uselessly, unable to hold back your moans and sounds of pleasure. Above you, Zoro was grunting and swearing under his breath. You could tell he was getting close, seeing you bent so sweetly under him.
"God fucking damn it. You're just sucking me in" he growled. You tightened at the praise. You heard him chuckle darkly.
"That's right baby. Feel so good, tightening on my cock like that. I want you to cum for me, like that. Needing me to hold you up like this. You look so pretty, under me like this"
As he spoke, the knot in your abdomen tightened to dangerous levels. Your legs tensed until you were practically hanging from his shoulders. At the new tension holding you up, Zoro could wrap one hand around your thighs holding them together as he held you up, lightly choking himself with your calves on the sides of his neck as he brought one hand to snake around to your torso. His warm hand pressed down on your lower abdomen, and he could feel his own length as he pistoned in and out of you. A new sensation began to build.
"Z-Zoro- something- ah! please! I'm gonna-"
"Go ahead. Cum hard on my fucking cock"
His thumb reached down to draw circles on your clit, and at the rough touch, you exploded. Your mouth opened in a silent scream, and Zoro kept your thighs tightly against himself, slowly only slightly as you tightened around him enough to start to push him out. Your back bowed further, and you felt yourself wetting his torso as you squirted. His body shuddered as his hips stuttered to a stop, a loud groan leaving him as you unwittingly limited the blood flow to his head with your spasming calves. Had your eyes been open and focused, you would've seen his eyes fluttering and rolled back in his head, cumming hard.
Both you were breathless as Zoro lowered your hips back down to the blanket, collapsing beside you, uncaring of the mess.
"holy shit" you breathed. Zoro started to chuckle at your swearing, and you joined, giggling as you rolled to snuggle onto his shoulder. He held you close, and you reveled in the touch. Suddenly you sat up, looking concerned and turned his head to the side to look at his neck.
"Did I choke you? I just realized that maybe my legs-"
"I'm fine. I liked it" he took your hand in yours, looking sheepish, "It's almost like being squeezed by your thighs when I eat you out."
You blinked at him, easing yourself back down.
"Huh. Who would've thought you had a choking kink" you muttered to yourself. Zoro swatted your bare ass lightly in retaliation, but didn't deny your words. He wasn't a liar. The two of you laid there in easy silence, listening to the breeze and inhaling the sweet perfume. You shifted, feeling the uncomfortable squelch of drooling cum from your pussy.
"Let's get cleaned up" your boyfriend suggested, sitting up. Clear droplets rolled down his torso with the movement, and you watched their movements.
"I don't think I've ever cum that hard" you said quietly. Zoro handed you a napkin he produced from his bag.
"Me either" he admitted. You giggled, still somewhat delirious from the post-sex high.
"What did you pack?" you asked curiously. You were starting to get hungry, and you were thirsty from your heaving breaths. Zoro silently handed you your clothes, and you took them gratefully. He began pulling out a meal and drinks from his bag, and it was obvious Sanji packed it with care. You smiled softly, understanding the sentiment. Zoro sucked up his pride to make you happy for a day.
You crawled over to him, still naked, and pressed your chest to his slightly sweaty back as you hugged him. He grunted at your sudden affection, and you leaned forward to kiss his cheek.
"I love you, and I know you love me too. I see it in the small things, the things you can't hide. We love each other, and that's what matters. Don't let what they say get to you. I'll start telling the crew to stay out of it too" you said, determined. He somehow slung you around him and into his lap, an innocent smile on his face.
"Whatever you want to do. As long as you know that I love you"
You smiled easily in return, kissing the tip of his nose.
"Get dressed. You're naked" you said, crawling off his lap. You weren't sure if you could even stand up after that round.
Zoro landed a solid swat to your bare ass retreating from him, "you're one to talk"
------
That evening back on the ship, Brook played your favorite songs, and you were surprised when Zoro thanked Usopp and Robin in front of you. They had gone above and beyond, creating a tiny greenhouse planter for your soon-to-be spring flower garden. Sanji asked if you liked the food, and you thanked him. Even Zoro held his tongue, simply nodding at the cook. That night, as you lay in bed with your boyfriend, you ran your fingers over his earrings before trailing your touch down his jaw. He opened his eye curiously.
"Thank you for today" you murmured. You didn't know how to begin describing how much it meant to you, so you simply kissed him gently, trying to pour your emotion into the kiss. He cupped your cheek, pulling back from the kiss.
"I love you" he muttered. You smiled softly. His walls were up again, but you could never doubt his words. He never lied. Not to you.
"I love you too, Zoro"
1K notes · View notes
ronearoundblindly · 3 months
Note
For your Valentine's ask game: #7 Jake Jensen x reader, idk why but it seems fitting 😂
Shut Up, Jensen, one of my Valentine's Fics for 2024!
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Oh, this poor, poor, awkward perv. He's pervy until there's a naked lady around and then 😳 "...when I was four, I shoved pennies up my nose..." Seriously, boi, shut up!
Warnings for spice, i.e. a setup to smutty times, but mostly suggestive. MINORS DNI, just to be safe. There's plenty for you to read on my Light Masterlist, but this one is not for you! WC 1042
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You’ve always had a soft spot for nerds, and now, that’s translating to a damp spot on your fanciest panties you wore for this date.
Jake Jensen goofy-grinned his way through the entire evening, making you almost snort a tequila sunrise through your nose, and he never let up. The humor made you comfortable. It’s endearing to see his nervousness right on his graphic-T sleeve as opposed to being ‘manly’ and aloof.
It’s so, so refreshing to hear someone say, “I’m having a great time,” “I don’t want the night to end,” and know deep down in your bones that they mean “spending this time with you has made me happy” instead of “I’ve done enough to get laid now, right?”
Unsurprisingly, it does mean Jake’s done enough to get laid.
You give him your address so he could park his Jeep outside your building. There are parking meters, but tomorrow is Sunday when they’re free. No big deal. You left the bar (which was after the restaurant, which was after the coffee shop) a minute or two before in order to meet him at one of the open spots and walk him in. He can’t meet you at your door because there is a locked gate to your courtyard, and then a keypad for your building, and then about three corridors to navigate. It’s just easier to show him the way.
You can hear that fucking car coming a mile away.
Jake smiles and waves as he parallel parks—with extreme precision, you note—then hops out, gesturing to the meter questioningly.
“Don’t worry about it,” you shrug, jumping to the edge of the curb before he steps up so you can use the height for a kiss on his cheek.
It’s adorable how flustered he gets at just that tiny bit of affection. Though it’s dark, it’s obvious he blushes ferociously, rubbing at the back of his cropped, short hair, racing to gather his thoughts.
“Did you know there are almost three hundred ways to make change for a dollar? Two hundred ninety-three to be ex—woah—“
You grab his hand to lead him inside.
At the gate, you have to pause for the magnetic lock.
“I’m surprised those things even take change anymore,” Jake muses quietly, courteous for the neighbors’ sake, “because physical money only makes up 8% today’s currency…in the whole world.” He slides past the thick steel grating. “Thank you, digital banking.”
He follows behind you in the maze of concrete paths to the next entry.
“People leave like half a million dollars worth of loose change at airport security. That’s a little shocking,” he whispers when you motion for him to take a left, “think you’d splurge for some decent toilet paper with that kind of dough, or maybe some more cup holders in those row-seats? They could, I don’t know, offset the cost of making pennies. Shit cost two cents. Is worth one. Wild…
“Meanwhile, a dime has 118 ridges on the rim of the smallest circumference.”
Doesn’t even matter what he’s saying, the more his plump pink lips move, the more insanely turned on you get. You have to crowd him through your own doorway before you start stripping in the middle of the hall.
You peel your blouse off the instant your keys clatter onto the dinette table. You spin around to grab him by the screen-printed emblem of his t-shirt.
“There are 1.4 billion $2 bills in circulation.”
He gives a little oof sound when his back hits one of your bedroom walls, and there’s a barely audible whimper as your hands snake up under soft, well-worn fabric.
Holy shit, is this boy cut!
Your thumbs actually catch on the deep ridge of his Adonis belt. Dimes got nothing on you, Jake Jensen…
His breathing has changed significantly. “Did you know they—“ he gasps and swallows “—still make those?”
Ok, why is it hotter when he’s not even trying?
“Fun fact: if you went to Zimbabwe, guess which currency you’d…use?” The neckline of his shirt has to pop over his glasses before he fixes them. “The U.S. Dollar. Seriously! Same damn mon—EH.”
His belt buckle is tricky to navigate from this angle and in the very low light of your bedside lamp. You give up on his pants to unzip your skirt at the hip and let it fall.
Jake stands perfectly still with his hands half-raised.
“You’re…really fucking pretty—sorry—really pret—sexy, not that I—but beautiful. You’re really—”
He sucks in a breath as you step within inches of him again, reaching up to carefully pull his glasses over his ears and place them by the lamp.
“Fuck…”
Your index finger tucks into the elastic of his boxers where they peek out above the belt.
“Yeah, so I’ve been—I’m—I don’t have a—what I’m trying to say is—“ he squeezes his eyes shut and wiggles his fingers higher in the air, searching for the right thought “—the most commonly printed bill is actually the one-hundr—“
“Jake,” you interrupt, gently smoothing your hands over his thick shoulders. He is so ripped, what the hell? You guess there are nerds and then there are nerds, wow…
“Do you want to continue?”
He nods super fast, eyes growing wide in panic.
“Good.”
You smash your lips to his, hauling him down and you up by the sturdy tower of muscle he is.
“Condoms are in the drawer,” you mutter between breaths.
He lets out a high, choked whine before clamping his huge, warm hands to your waist, melting into you and your touch.
You coax the both of you toward the bed, swatting at his belt as a signal for him to help, and he does, though he’s not the greatest multitasker. He huffs and smirks, breaking the kiss so he can unlatch, unbutton, and unzip.
Then he looks up at you. 
“So you like movies…?”
You cup his jaw in your hand and pinch, a gentle peck on his lips as encouragement to focus. “Less talking, more fucking, Jensen.”
He opens his mouth, clearly running through a series of replies, but thinks better of it and  pushes down his pants and boxers all at once.
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Lloyd Hansen and a kiss on a place of insecurity ⬅️ ➡️ Steve Rogers and a kiss on a scar
[Main Masterlist; Ko-Fi]
@supraveng @1950schick @patzammit @whiskeytangofoxtrot555 @yiiiikesmish @ashesofblackroses @spectre-posts @jaqui-has-a-conspiracy-theory @brandycranby @buckysprettybaby @ellethespaceunicorn @peyton--warren Y'all getting sick of me yet???
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wheelsupimagine · 1 month
Text
Meant to be -Spencer Reid x Fem!reader
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Pairing: Spencer Reid x FemReader
Word count: 3.2k words
Warnings: mentions of s3 e16 and s4 e24, angst and fluff
Summary: A case reminded Spencer of his past and you the only friend he had in high school, what if one day you two meet again in DC.
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Being a resident genius had its favors, the team bets everything on him and he could always retrieve this but this case was different, it was difficult it got personal.
His edict memory is a blessing but not when a case like this reminded him of his past - Alexa Lisbon.
Then he wished he could forget everything for once in his life, but he will always remember.
When Spencer stepped out of the plane, he felt like he could breathe again, but his mind still raced - this case was an emotional roller coaster for him and the best way for Spencer to calm down was to go to his favorite bookstore.
The moment Spencer stepped into the bookstore he felt relieved, the familiar smell of old books and fresh coffee felt like home and no other person was in sight.
"Hey Spencer though case?!" Miranda the owner of the shop asked.
"Hey Miranda, yeah it was."
"Okay, your coffee will be ready in a bit, the bookstore is almost empty just one more person is here."
Spencer nodded but he was surprised that someone else would be here at this time still Spencer didn’t let himself bother knowing he would probably not even find this person.
Spencer left Miranda and made his way deeper into the bookstore. He was so invested in finding a new book, that he totally forgot about his coffee till he heard his name being called.
"Spencer Reid?" A stranger called his name
He turned his head and then he saw you.
Y/N Y/L/N.
What Spencer didn’t tell Derek was, who got him down from the goalpost back then - it was y/n, after that night you two spent more time together - Spencer could always come to you, and you two never talked about his problems and struggles because when he was with you it didn’t matter, once or twice he talked with you about his mom but mostly he just enjoyed your company and felt like a decent kid with a friend.
When he graduated high school, he never looked back but after 14 years you stand now in front of him right here in this bookstore in DC.
"Miranda asked me if I could bring you your coffee before it gets cold." You said and pointed at his coffee in your hand.
"My god Spencer, I can’t believe it’s you." You continued.
"Thank you y/n." Spencer took the coffee from you.
"It’s been a while, you look good by the way."
Spencer blushed, but he didn’t say anything back.
"Ähm yeah it was nice to see you again, I don’t want to bother much longer." As you attempted to leave, Spencer stopped you.
"Actually I could use some company if you like… Only if you want to obviously, I would understand if you don’t want to…" Spencer
rambled, but you stopped him.
"I would love to keep you company Spencer."
You two sat down and drank your coffee and talked. Spencer found out that you moved here two years ago because you got a job offer at the Walter Reed hospital and nothing held you in Las Vegas. Spencer talked to you about his job in the FBI, you asked him about Diana and it surprised him that you still knew her name, you two had a great time together until you caught Spencer off guard.
"Spencer, how are you really? You have very dark circles under your eyes."
"I…I haven’t slept really, it was this case that reminded me of something in the past." Spencer sighed and didn’t dare to look you in the eyes.
You knew where his mind went, you rubbed Spencer’s arm.
"But look at you now, these High school jerks and Alexa are definitely regretting this now." You looked at your clock.
"Hey Spencer it’s getting late, I have to wake up early and honestly you need some sleep too."
Spencer's mimic changed from happy to sad in one motion.
"Oh, I understand. Yeah yeah, you should leave you need your sleep." Spencer took his distance from you, thinking you wanted to leave because you already had enough of him.
"Spencer hey, if you want we can exchange phone numbers so we could meet again."
Spencer’s lips curved into a smile.
"Yeah, I would like that."You exchanged numbers and you both left the shop together.
Sadly you two had to split ways, Spencer insisted on walking you home but you promised him that it wouldn’t even take 10 minutes till you were home. Spencer started rambling about unsafety and what everything could happen in 10 minutes.
"Wow, now I might think I have to stay with you forever." You joked
but Spencer was stunned and it caused his cheeks to turn slightly pink.
"I just made a joke Dr. Reid, okay. Would you feel better if I wrote you when I made it home save in 10 minutes?" You asked him.
"This would make it slightly better. But.."
"But?" You asked confused.
"You lied," Spencer said.
"What?"
"You first said you would be home in less than 10 minutes now it’s exactly 10 minutes." Spencer smiled and you laughed.
"Come home safe Dr. Reid."You smiled and turned around making your way home.
When Spencer arrived home, he thought about going to bed immediately but you crossed his mind again and when he looked at his phone he saw that you hadn’t wrote him yet. So instead of getting in his pyjamas he sat on his couch and waited for your text.
After 10 minutes and 45 seconds, you texted him letting him know you made it home safe.
Spencer:You are too late.
Y/n:What?!
Spencer:You are exactly 45 seconds too late. Next time I call the FBI.
Y/n:haha. I am so sorry dr Reid, I changed into my pajamas first.
Y/n:You didn’t need to stay awake for me
Spencer:But I wanted to make sure that you save.
Y/n:Thank you Spencer but you also need to sleep.
Spencer:Good night Y/n sleep well.
Y/n:Sleep well genius.
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Over the last few months, Spencer and you met at the bookstore when your jobs allowed it. Otherwise, you two stay connected through messages and phone calls. Even the team noticed a shift in Spencer’s mood and as the man Derek is he asks him about it.
"Hey, pretty boy, who’s got you on the phone like this?"
"What do you mean, I use my phone like I always do."
"No boy wonder, for someone who rarely uses his phone in his free time, you are really caught up in it now." Derek laughed.
"Is pretty boy in love?" Derek asked and wiggled with his brows.
"Derek please can you leave it, it’s nothing," Spencer answered and didn’t dare to look Derek in the eyes.
"Okay Spencer, I let it slide for now but just so you know I care about you and if there is someone in your life that makes you happy, I just want to know."
Paperwork days for Spencer were never a problem, he accepted it cause it needed to be done but now with you in his life, he loved paperwork because it meant he wasn’t away on a case and with you having the morning shift, it gave you two the chance to meet up after work and he enjoyed your time together, he feels like he can be like himself with you and he hasn’t laughed so much since he met you.
But your jobs didn't allow this too much, either you had the night shift or Spencer was out of town for a case and he hated this, he hated when you weren’t around, he hated it when you two were in the same city but didn’t get to see each other and even though he loves his job, he couldn’t wait to come home, to see you - he missed you.
Cases also mean for him that he barely has time to call you.
Currently, Spencer has been away for a week already, this case going longer than he thought it would take, Spencer lay on his motel bed and tried to find the breakthrough for the case but nothing came to his mind.
He put the papers aside and looked at the clock, it wasn’t too late in DC yet, and he was unsure if he should call you, it’s nothing you usually do so that Spencer could stay focused on the case but honestly, he needed to hear your voice tonight, so he tried to call you hoping you aren’t already asleep.
"Spencer? Is everything okay?" Your voice sounds raw.
"Hey, yeah everything is okay. Did I wake you up? I am so sorry, I really didn’t mean to, it was a stupid idea to call you, you obviously slept, and your voice sounds raw. I should-."
"Spencer, breath, everything is fine. I didn’t sleep, I - I just rolled around, I was thinking about you."
Spencer was stunned by your confession, he stayed silent but his heart was beating very fast.
"So yeah, what’s on your mind, Spencer?" You asked breaking the silence.
"We don’t come forward with the case and I...I wanted to hear your voice." Spencer confessed.
"Sometimes it takes more time to find the perpetrator but the only thing that matters is that you will find him. I miss you but please stay safe there."
"I will y/n, I promise."
"Hey, Spencer."
"Yes, y/n."
"Why don’t we meet when you come back, we could order takeout and make a movie marathon at my place nothing fancy." You suggested.
"Yeah, yeah I would like that."
"Good, I will see you soon, good night Spencer."
"Good night y/n."
A few days later the team finally caught the unsub.
As the team flew back to Virginia, Spencer wrote you to let you know that he would land in the late afternoon and asked you if you two wanted to have the movie marathon tonight which you accepted.
Spencer didn’t even realize that he smiled like an idiot until Derek pulled him out of his thoughts.
"You pretty boy what got your smile like that?" Derek asked Spencer.
"Uh n-no-nothing," Spencer said but his cheeks turned 10 times darker every second.
"Sureee Spencer."
Spencer didn’t say anything.
"Hey Spencer," Derek said.
"Yeah."
"It’s good to see you like this," Derek replied. He left Spencer alone with his thoughts, he couldn’t wait to see you tonight.
Spencer arrived at your apartment complex 10 minutes too early, he first waited in his car, drumming his fingers on his bouncing leg, trying to calm himself down but he failed miserably, so he stood in front of your door 7 minutes and 43 seconds too early but it was okay, in that time he tried to get his breath under control.
But before Spencer got his breath under control, you already opened the door.
"Man, I thought you would never knock at my door." You greeted him.
"How-how did you know I stood in front of your door?" Spencer asked.
"I saw you parking your car 5 minutes ago, I waited for you.”
"Oh yeah I didn’t want to be late here but I also didn’t want to be too early, I didn’t know if you were ready yet," Spencer explained.
"It’s okay Spencer but next time just knock you could never be annoying to me, even if you're too early you can sit on my couch like right now."
"I will quickly make the popcorn, you can look for a movie we could watch." You suggested and Spencer sat down and looked for a good movie to watch that you also liked, when you returned with the popcorn and other snacks, you sat down next to him but not too close, Spencer still didn’t decide what to watch.
"I-I don’t know what to watch, movies that I like are mostly not the type from others," Spencer admitted.
"Okay mhm, what do you think of Star Trek?"
"What?!" Spencer was completely shocked.
"Ähm okay was that a bad request?"
"No, no it’s- it’s great actually, I love it, I didn’t think you would like these types of movies," Spencer admitted.
"I am full of surprises Spencer."
So you watched the Star Trek series and after some time you both fell asleep, no one knows who fell asleep first maybe it was you or him but for sure was that you both bumped your heads, after a phone went off - it was Spencer’s.
"I’m sorry, I’ve got a case, is your head okay?"
"Yeah, yeah is there enough time for coffee or do you have to leave immediately?"
"No, it looks really important I have to leave now, but at least the case is here."
"Okay, good luck, be safe."
"I will be." As Spencer was about to leave he turned around once more.
"Hey y/n?"
"Yes, Spencer."
"I had a lot of fun last night."
"Me too, maybe we couldn’t do it again sometime?"
"I would love to, bye y/n."
"See you soon doctor, come home to me in one piece."
Just when the door felt shut, your phone started ringing, it was the hospital.
"Hey, y/n. Is it possible for you to fill in today, maya is sick."
"Yeah sure, I am on my way."
Spencer just visited Abby one of the remaining survivors, in the middle of their conversation Abby got aphasia, which scared Spencer, this stain kills people in a short amount of time and right now he couldn’t do anything.
Then he thought about you, and he had the urge to talk to you, even though he may get in trouble for this he needed to know you were okay.
"Spencer, is everything okay?" You said quite in panic.
"Yeah, yeah sure why wouldn’t it be… I.. I just wanted to hear your voice and I wanted to know if you are okay."
"Everything is okay, besides I have to work today."
"What !! I thought it was your free day?"
"Yeah, change in plans, one of my colleagues is sick and they asked me to fill in, but it’s fine, it’s a quiet day." You lied to Spencer, nothing was quiet on this day.
Hey, Spencer, it looks like I’ve got to go out there again. Look out for yourself and maybe if you’d like we could out soon.. like on a real date, maybe?"
"..I would like it, yeah, that would be great."
"Good, stay safe Spencer. Bye"
"Goodbye, Y/n. Take care of yourself. See you soon."
You both hung up with a smile and at least forgot the scary situation for a few seconds, before you got out again and took care of the anthrax-infected patients.
Spencer and Derek made their way to Nichols a possible suspect in the anthrax case. When they arrived Spencer had cut himself briefly on the thorn bush but it didn't stop him and continued to walk with Derek closer to the house.
Before Morgan and Reid entered Nichols's private lap, Derek got a phone call, Reid made his way into the lab and left Derek behind.
As Derek ended the call, he realized Spencer was not behind him. Derek ran towards the house calling for Reid and just when he arrived at the house, Spencer closed the door from the lab and told Derek he couldn’t get in there just then Derek saw the broken test tube with Anthrax in it.
Spencer was a step closer to death.
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You took the mask from your face and took a deep breath and you finally broke down, you started crying, it was too much for you, seeing all those vulnerable people and you can’t do anything to help them, you can only try to make this stay as comfortable as possible.
You knew what this job meant, you can’t save everybody but this is not fair, how can a human being so heartless and let these people perish?
You took another deep breath and then you thought about Spencer, hopefully was okay, far away from this situation but deep down you knew he wasn’t, he is in the FBI of course he is involved but please let him be okay.
You needed to hear Spencer's voice, so you called him.
"Y/n…" Spencer began to cough.
"Spencer.. what's happening. You don’t sound okay."
"Everything is fine." Spencer coughed again.
"Spencer…no matter what is happening…"
"Y/n listen." Spencer cut you off.
"I love you Y/n… everything is gonna be okay but I've got to go now. Then Spencer hung up and you didn’t get to answer him.
You tried it a few more times but he didn’t pick and now it felt like your world broke down, you burst into tears knowing couldn’t do anything.
After Spencer and Dr. Kimura may have found the cure for this anthrax, Spencer finally gets to go out of the lab and go to the shower, but as Spencer untied his tie, Dr. Kimura sees the cut Spencer got from the bush and the situation just got more dangerous, hopefully, the cure was in the inhaler.
When Dr. Kimura came in with a newly infected anthrax patient your heart skipped a beat - it was Spencer.
He was in an awful state and for a moment you didn’t know if he would survive this.
The situation finally got under control with the confirmation from the lab that the cure was in the inhaler, the last survivors and Spencer were able to be cured and now it was a matter of time before Spencer woke up.
When you walked towards Spencer’s room, you saw a man sitting by Spencer and eating his jello that you put on his table, just then Spencer woke up and immediately asked if there would be more jello.
As you arrived at Spencer's room you couldn’t hold back anymore.
"Hey." You've said as if a stone fell from your heart.
"Hi." Said Spencer with a smile on his face.
You both wanted to say so much more but with this muscular man in the room who you didn’t know - there was an awkward silence there.
"Okay, I think it’s my time to leave. Have fun lover boy." The man said and left you too alone.
"You’ve scared me, Spencer." You sat down on the bed and took his hand in yours.
"I didn’t mean to do this and I am sorry for what I said, I would understand if you don’t want to see me anymore, I mean with what I said I took this.." Spencer rambled.
"I love you too Spencer."
"WHAT?! Really?"
"Yes Spencer, of course I do, I've loved you since we first met back in Las Vegas."
Spencer cupped with both hands your face and you leaned in and then you two kissed for the first time.
"So you still want to go out with me?" You asked.
"Of course Y/n." You both hugged and Spencer's face was crooked in your neck.
"Hey, Y/n?"
"Yes, Spencer."
"Before we go out on the date, can I have some of this jello?" Spencer asked shyly but you just started laughing.
"Of course, my love, you can have as much jello as you want."
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Man - when I wrote this it felt from length okay but now I feel like it’s a little rushed maybe you could give me feedback if I should get more in detail with the story and the conversations.
I am still very new to writing and it feels super though to write Spencer so that he still has his character traits and doesn’t sound like a totally different Spencer.
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luci-in-trenchcoats · 5 months
Text
Imagine…Dean Making You A Pie
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Pairing: Dean x reader
A/N: Happy belated Thanksgiving!
_______
“Y/N!” called Dean. You popped your head up from your book on the back porch on the fall day, Dean stepping out the back door with a big smile. “Come on sweetheart.”
“What’s wrong?” you asked. 
“Nothing. I have a surprise,” he said. He grabbed your hand and pulled you inside the house, your jaw dropping.
“Dean! What happened to the kitchen!” It looked like most of the counter top was covered in flour and some kind of batter, a white dust stuck to the cabinets, something red splattered on the floor. There were dirty dishes, utensils and baking supplies everywhere but Dean left you be and went to the wire rack by the oven.
“I made a pie,” he said. He pointed at the counter, a big smile on his face. “By myself. I mean I followed your recipe but I did it on my own for once. What do you think? Want to try some?”
“I would love to and I love that you decided to try baking on your own,” you said. You looked up and saw something on the ceiling, cocking your head.
“Are you freaking out about the mess?” 
“Um.” You looked around, eyes landing on the pie. The room was an absolute disaster but he looked so proud of himself. You’d made him pies more times than you could count and more recently he started helping out when you did. “Actually no. I um, it’s just a little messy but we can deal with it later. Cut me a piece of pie.”
“Definitely. I want to see how it compares,” he said. You made a clear spot at the island and Dean brought over the pie, carving out a slice for the two of you. He hummed and set it down on a plate you got out, quickly getting a fork.
“Oh is this cherry?” you asked, breaking off a piece.
“Yup,” he said, smiling as you took a bite. You chewed once before you paused, bitter and salt and thick chewiness hitting you. 
“Good right?” he asked. You chewed again, forcing your face to stay neutral. He took the fork from you and dug in, his face freezing the second he chewed. “Y/N.”
You hummed, covering your mouth with your hand.
“You don’t have to eat this.”
“Thank you,” you said, going over to the trash can and spitting it out. He quickly joined you, shaking out his body. “Dean sweetie. How much salt did you put in?”
“It said 1 cup? Or one teaspoon?”
“Yeah definitely not a cup. But your filling was decent.”
“I forgot the sugar in it, didn’t I.”
“Yeah just a little,” you said. “Presentation is great though. I love the lattice work. You did really good.”
“Thanks,” he said. “Sorry about the mess.”
“It’s fine. It’s actually quite impressive,” you said as Sam walked in from the garage. “Sam it was your turn to clean the kitchen this week wasn’t it?”
“I’m going to Eileen’s,” he said, turning around.
“Sammy-“
“Nope. Not my problem. Screw the chore chart. I’ll see you guys at Eileen’s for dinner,” he said.
“Wait! Try my pie. I made it myself,” said Dean. He smiled and Sam sighed, taking the fork from Dean and grabbing a piece. He plopped it in his mouth and frowned, looking around before spitting it into the garbage. 
“I hate you,” said Sam, Dean chuckling as he left.
“So should we clean up?”
“Yes but then we can try making pie dough again and another filling and this time I guarantee it’ll be amazing.”
“Can we do it tomorrow? I’m kinda exhausted,” he said.
“Sure. You can sit with me on the porch and cuddle then after we clean up.”
“That sounds like a perfect afternoon to me sweetheart.”
________
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boxboxlewis · 6 months
Note
prompt: drunk, bored alex bossily trying to convince sober george to make out with him. george knowing if this happens, he will reveal Everything (disastrous; the thing he wants most in the word; will ruin their friendship), so he tries to distract alex with napoleon's correspondence.
Alex was buzzed enough that the hotel room had started to swirl around him in a gentle anticlockwise spiral. He was starfished on his back on the queen-sized bed, feet hanging off the end, and the gravity holding him in place felt heavier than usual but also friendly, as if it wanted him to be happy and comfortable.
“George,” he said, except it came out too long, stretched and languid. Geoooooooorge. He cleared his throat and tried again. “George. Look, mate, this is important.”
“No it’s not.”
Alex ignored this. “I really think we should. Like, I think it’s a good idea. Ojbec—objectively.”
There was no reply, so Alex lifted his head up off the pillow. It took more effort than usual, due to the gravity thing, but he got a good view of George hunched over at the weirdly small hotel desk, staring at his tablet, not looking at Alex at all.
“Are you looking at porn?” 
“No, I’m not looking at—fuck’s sake, Alex! I’m reading my emails. Mostly, I’m ignoring you.”
This was hurtful. “Why?” Alex asked, hurt. He carefully lowered his head back down.
“Because you’re totally off your tits and you keep asking me to make out with you,” George said. “And I know you don’t actually want to and you’re only saying it because you’re depressed that you got P17, because you’re insanely competitive even when you’re driving a Roomba. So. I’m doing the decent thing and not responding.”
“The FW45 is not a Roomba!” Alex said, and then, after a pause for thought, “Roombas can sense walls.”
“Right, yeah, that’s the relevant point here,” George said. “C’mon Alex, why are you even going on about this? You’re straight.” 
George made the word “straight” sound vaguely insulting, which was, Alex thought, interesting. He was too drunk to work out why, but perhaps that could be a project for his sober, more brain-forward self. In the meantime, he tried to wrestle his thoughts into order so he could answer the question George had asked. Why was he going on about this? Well, George was very pretty, for one thing. Pretty face, pretty body. “You have eyelashes like a camel,” he said, and laughed at the despairing groan George let out. “What, you do! Also, I’m bored, and there’s no one else here.” That sounded wrong, and wasn’t really what Alex meant, but he didn’t know how to fix it. “I don’t mean—there’s loads of people at this Grand Prix, obviously. But like. In my hotel room, it’s only us.”
There was a brittle little silence from George, during which the room continued gently spinning. Eventually George said, “Thanks Alex, but somehow I’m going to have to turn down this incredibly flattering offer.”
“Hey, c’mon, wait—”
“Move over or I’ll sit on you.” George sounded impatient and grumpy, like maybe the emails he’d been reading had upset him. Alex did as he was told, and carefully rolled himself over to one side of the bed. He felt the mattress dip as George sat next to him. “Right,” George said. “As you’re clearly bored, and a menace, I’m going to entertain you. All right?”
“Entertain me… with your mouth?” Alex asked, hopeful.
George exhaled loudly. “Yeah, close, Alex. No, even better than that. I’m going to read to you from the correspondence of Napoleon Buonaparte.”
“Napoleon? The short git with the hat? ‘Able was I ere I saw Elba,’ that guy?” Alex got a bit tongue-twisted on the palindrome, but who wouldn’t.
“The very one, mate. I’ve been reading his writings for inspiration on the track.”
That was objectively insane, of course, but also somehow the most charming thing Alex had ever heard. He could feel fondness fountaining out of his chest so strongly he was surprised the billowing golden splashes of it weren’t actually visible. “Fucking hell,” he said. “George, I like you so much.”
“I—what?”
“That’s why we should make out,” Alex explained. “Because… because when two people like each very much, that’s what they should do.” He turned over so he could see the effect this line of argument was having on George.
George looked mildly concussed. “Alex, are you having me on?”
“No!” Alex felt indignant at the idea. “Georgie, I wouldn’t, about this. You know I wouldn’t.”
When George swallowed Alex could see the motion in the beautiful tanned line of his neck. “Right,” he said. “Well then. I’m not going to make out with you now, you’re absolutely munted, but. Ask me again in the morning, Alex.”
Alex nodded, and let his eyes drift shut. “Brilliant,” he said. “Will do.”
thank you to sarah for the best prompt game in the business, and to @onadarklingplain for reading this over and helping me figure out the ending!
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pookietv · 14 days
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checkmate | arthurtv
first non social media post!! hope u guys like and thank u for all the love straight away, very cool :)
a lil arthur tv x reader
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being round whilst the boys were watching the football was.. a strange experience to say the least. the moment you walk through the door you're practically having a can of beer shoved in your hand and ushered to come into the front room quietly so they don't miss any commentary.
though you didn't follow football too much, you did sit quiet and watch also, mainly just following what you're told, from chris telling you the ref is 'off his head' to george trying to convince you that the guy in goal is the best person on earth, it was quite interesting, besides the often shouting at the tv as if those in the commentary box could hear them.
as soon as you sat next to arthur he'd give you a small smile and nod, a quick hello before a comforting and quiet normal from arthur, his eyes trailing back to the tv as you crossed your legs, opened the can of beer and observed, slightly leaning your bodyweight on arthur, moving your head back to check he was okay with it, as you usually did, and he gave you a small grin, signalling it was fine.
when the game finished with an arsenal win (much to chris' enjoyment) the boys began chatting amongst themselves, and arthur pulled out his phone, beginning a chess game as they talked, and instantly got a bit of mocking for it.
"chess already, you sad, sad man," arthur hill laughed at his own remark a little, and arthur just shrugged, "it's fun and the games over so," he murmured, his cheeks slightly red but laughing himself also.
"to be fair, i always wanted to learn how to play chess, i mean i played a tiny bit in middle school but 'm not very good," you stated, and chris rolled his eyes, "not another nerd," but arthur looked up at you with his widely interested eyes.
"you wanna learn chess? i, i can try teach you, if you liked... i mean, i don't know how good of a coach i am but i can try," he offered, looking at you with a goofy and excited grin.
you nodded a little, smiling back, "yeah, sounds fun, i mean if you have the patience to teach me, i might not be very good," you added, as arthur shook his head a little "i'm sure you'll be fine, you're smart," adding "lemme go get my board," and leaving the room quite quickly, earning a snort from george.
"he's just happy that for once in his life he's not having to convince someone to play with him, and they actually want to play," he teased, and your eyes rolled a little, a small grin on your face.
"and especially because it's you," chris said, earning himself a soft shove from you and a little laugh.
"hey, leave the guy alone," you giggled a little.
"he's just dying for you to be mrs television," george charmed in with their not-so-subtle jokes about you and arthur.
it had been a running joke in the friend group for a while, that arthur had grown a bit of a crush on you, but you had shoved that in the back of your mind (or at least attempted to) because you were almost certain they were wrong and he was just a sweet guy.
it had also been a running teasing point that they all were also convinced that you had a crush on arthur too.
and whilst they weren't exactly wrong, you weren't going to give them the benefit of confirming it, or the leverage of admitting to them that they were right
"hm?" arthur said, his head cocked a little as he walked back into the living room, a box in his hands, clearly just curious about what the subject of conversation had turned to whilst he was gone.
"we were just talking about the fact that it's interesting that she wants to learn chess of all things," arthur hill teased, leading to everyone else giggling like school children.
arthur rolled his eyes, also used to the joking, "doesn't really surprise me, i mean you guys are too dense to play so hopefully if she gets a grip of it i might have a decent chess partner for once," he quipped back with a slight grin on his face, before opening the box on the coffee table and beginning to set out the pieces, as you sat on the other side of the coffee table, assuming the position to play.
"i'll let you play the white pieces, cause it means you get to go first," he says first, and you nod, looking down at the board, before he starts again, "you know the names of the pieces and how they move?"
"a little," you said, before pointing at some of the pieces, "a pawn, right? an' it just moves forward a space?" you stated, earning a nod from arthur.
"except on the first time you move them, then they can move two, if you like," he confirmed.
as you continued to play, the boys began rolling their eyes and proclaiming that you guys were 'officially nerds' and teasing before going into their rooms.
after a while, you had began to learn all the moves of pieces quite well, with small encouraging nods from arthur and little pieces of help so you weren't left completely stranded playing against someone much better than you.
"see, i've got you in check now, can you see it?" he asked a little softly as your eyes scanned across the board that was at least making a little more sense to you.
"mhm... it's your rook, right?" you said, though slightly unconvincingly as you bit on your nail a little, before arthur grinned.
"yeah, it is, so you obviously wanna move your king," he nodded, looking at you with almost a proud smile, "see, not long now and i'll have my own chess protégé," he joked a little, and you rolled your eyes.
"yeah, that may take a while arthur, but keep dreaming," you laughed back a little, looking up at him for a moment before back at the board. "by the way, why the hell is your guys' flat so cold? you guys can't afford the heating or something?" you teased a little more, before arthur shook his head.
"oh, i'm sorry, i didn't even realise it's cold, i thought it was warm, look, here," he practically babbled out before pulling his jumper from over his head, a baby blue one, and leaving him in a white shirt, well fitted on him.
"no, don't worry about it, you don't have to give me your-"
"no, seriously, take it, don't want you to be freezing," he murmured out, offering it to you, "like i said, i was warm anyways so,"
you nodded a little, looking at him with slightly flushed cheeks before taking it from him, thanking him quietly as you slipped it over your head.
"see? suits you more then me, anyways," he joked slightly but you shook your head.
"nah, i doubt it, probably look like shit right now, practically rolled out of bed when chris told me to come round," you joked a little, but arthur rolled his eyes a little, almost in disbelief.
"shut up, you. you know you always look good," he said, his own face flushed also.
"oh, um.. i mean, i doubt it, but thanks," you practically murmured out in response, cheeks burning red as you laughed a little at your own stupidly flustered state, eyes practically burning into the board in hopes that arthur could not see your flushed face as you moved a piece.
"i watched that shark documentary you recommended the other day," arthur stated, breaking the slight silence, and you looked back up at him, "oh yeah? what did you think?" you asked with a slight grin.
"the little section about shark bones was so cool!" he practically beamed, and you nodded, as he moved a piece in return.
"the part about when shark fossils are found they just look like bone because of calcium exposure! i thought that was so fucking cool," you giggled, and he nodded before pausing.
"i... i think it's really cool that i can always talk to you about my dumb interests like chess and animals and you're always interested and half of the time you know more then me, which i just find so cool," he said, and you smiled up at him slightly.
"well, i mean, its just... it is interesting, you know? i mean, you're very interesting, i like when you go on little rants about things and i get to listen," you nodded.
"i, um, i'm trying to say that, you know, i think it would be cool if we could go out and talk about weird things sometime," he said, and you felt your eyebrows furrow slightly, looking up at him with a slight twinge of confusion, his widened brown eyes looking down at you with a dopey grin.
"like, um... like a date, i mean," he clarified, before looking back at the board, "i have you in checkmate, by the way." he grinned slightly goofily.
"only you, arthur tv, could ask a girl out and checkmate her at the same time," you giggled a little, shaking your head in disbelief.
"i mean, i can take back the checkmate if that'll make you say yes?" he joked back.
"sure. i'll say i beat you in chess and you can take me on a date." you quipped back, and his grin only grew.
"best defeat of my life, easily."
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the-badger-mole · 28 days
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While I don't hate Aang, LOK really ruined his character for me. The whole "the other air acolytes didn't know he had other children besides Tenzin," and Bumi literally apologizing to Aang's statue really makes me question how happy their childhood was, especially for Kya and Bumi. Like the show can pull that "oh they were actually a happy family" line, but you don't go into your 50s having that heavy and clear issues that both siblings can attest too. Oh, and assuming Kya and Bumi where Tenzin's servants? Again, what the hell??? (Also makes me wonder about Katara. Idk I have thoughts about that but I feel like if I voice them I'm gonna get mobbed)
No, but that's so true though! Here's the thing, as a lifelong hater of Aang, I am not at all surprised that he and his family turned out the way it did in LoK. Listen, his lowkey disrespect of Katara and her culture started in Book 1. In Book 2, Guru Pathik warned him that it was dangerous to put all this feelings of love and loss of his entire people on Katara, but neither he nor Bryke listened, and then in Book 3, the decent into Aang's entitlement really got kicking. Of course that guy turned out to favor his one airbending kid. Of course!
Unfortunately, I'm also not surprised that Katara didn't put an end to that. The entire series, Aang was her blind spot. She never stood 10 toes down against him because all her hopes for ending the war were pinned on him. And the way the finale framed her and Aang getting together suggests that it wasn't what she really wanted, but what she thought she was supposed to do. Her big "Oh!" moment happened because Aang was being praised for ending the war. The comics reduced her to the Avatar's Girlfriend, and she had no respect from any corner in LoK. I'm sure Bryke will say she was happy to be Aang's wife, and nothing else (I understand they're backtracking because of the post LoK criticisms, but too little, too late). I'm sure, given who Katara is, and the fact that Kya and Bumi didn't seem to have an issue with her, she did her best as a single mom to them, but I sincerely doubt she actually spoke out against Aang's favoritism the way she should have.
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narumi-gens · 10 months
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Cupid's Arrow - The Set Up
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Miya Osamu x f!Reader
summary: There’s no such thing as Cupid’s arrow. But fortunately for you and Osamu, you both have Atsumu. (OR: how Atsumu decided to play matchmaker for you and Osamu.)
warnings: minors/ageless/blank blogs dni, pure fluff, bad dating stories, best friend!tsumu, reader is really going through it — what a champ, reader is really just trying their best, but it's ok bc you and osamu are destined for happiness and marital bliss, atsumu for best wingman 2023 (but like a sneaky little wingman who uses underhanded tricks)
notes: wanted to start a little drabble series about platonic!reader and osamu's relationship but told from atsumu's POV so here we are. this can definitely be read on its own though.
words: 1.6k
part of the Meet the Miyas series
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Atsumu would find your misfortune in dating funny if there wasn’t so much of it. Actually, that’s not true. He still finds it funny. How could he not?
“Atsumu! That guy I went on a date with? He sneezed in my face and didn’t even apologize!”
“You know that guy I just started seeing? It turns out he has a wife and a girlfriend! They found out about each other and confronted him while we were on a date. Didn’t you see the video I posted on TikTok? It's going viral!”
“So I thought it was a date, but actually he was trying to recruit me to his pyramid scheme.”
“Oh my god. This guy was so annoying. He wouldn’t stop fooling around with the ball at mini-golf and I ended up getting hit. Anyway, long story short the doctor said I have a scratch on my cornea and have to use these eye drops for the next few days.”
While the stories never get old, he does feel bad for you. You’re his best friend after all. These scrubs that you’ve been going out with don’t even deserve a second glance from you, let alone an entire date. 
And so finally, after hearing about your latest misadventure in single life (“Oh, can you cover dinner? That guy I went out for drinks with yesterday stole my wallet.”), Atsumu decides it’s not just his duty to step in as your closest friend, but his duty as a decent person. 
“Samu, when’s the last time ya went out on a date?” he asks his brother the next time that he sees him, only to receive the most uninterested look in response.
“Don’t get involved in my love life,” he firmly warns the setter with narrowed eyes and Atsumu scoffs with a roll of his eyes.
“What love life? Yer married to onigiri!” he cries as he points an accusatory finger directly at said onigiri in Osamu’s hand. 
He’s honestly surprised that Osamu doesn’t throw it in his face with how annoyed he now looks, but he also knows the chef would never waste Kita’s rice like that. 
“I could get a date if I wanted. I don’t need yer help,” he insists.
“Duh, you have my face even if yer missin’ my amazing hair and personality.” When his cocky grin is met with a flat look, Atsumu realizes he might need to go for a different approach — the caring, earnest, brotherly approach. “Look, I know someone I think ya’d really like.”
“Oh, yeah? Who?” The question is asked with mocking disbelief, as if there’s no universe where Atsumu could successfully play matchmaker for his brother. 
He’s only too happy to prove him wrong, so when says your name, it’s with smug pride. He prepares himself for the bounty of gratitude that Osamu is about to shower him with.
Only, that doesn’t happen. His brother scoffs and turns his attention fully back to his onigiri, dismissing the idea of going on a date with you entirely. Atsumu can’t help but feel a prickle of offense on your behalf (and his own). 
“Hey! She’s a real catch, y’know!” he cries out. And it’s true. 
You’re smart, you’re successful, you’re funny, and you both always have the best time when you hang out together. And while he’s reluctant to admit it because he never likes to think of you in that way, you’re also attractive. He knows his brother isn’t blind to it either. 
The two of you have only met a few times in passing since he’s known you, but Atsumu’s eyes are too sharp from years of volleyball to have missed how Osamu’s gaze tends to linger on your ass just a bit longer than is polite. He knows pointing that out would not go well.
“She’s the one doin’ me the favor by agreein’ to go out with a scrub like you,” he continues to argue. But, it’s that part that isn’t entirely true. 
You actually have no idea that Atsumu is trying to meddle in your dating life. However, that’s something he can easily deal with once he’s convinced Osamu to take you out. While he would never call you desperate, at least not to your face, at this point you’ll go out on a date with anyone. It’s his brother that’s the real hurdle in this scheme.
“Ya want me to date yer best friend?” Osamu asks slowly. 
“Yeah, what’s so crazy about that?” he frowns.
“First, I’d never get ya out of my life if that happened,” he says blandly and continues over Atsumu’s squawk of protest. “Besides, there’s gotta be somethin’ wrong with her if she willingly chooses to spend so much time with ya.”
“Look, would it kill ya to go on just one date?” He doesn’t mention that if things go according to plan, it won’t be just one date. It’ll be a lifetime of happiness for the two most important people in his life. But that’s something that he doesn’t think Osamu would find as compelling as he does. 
“The restaurant ain’t gonna burn down or anything just cause ya spend a couple of hours outside of it. All yer rice’ll still be here when ya get back.”
Osamu gives him the dirtiest look, but then, after a long moment, he sighs heavily and Atsumu knows that he’s cleared the first hurdle. All he has to do is clear the next one. Thankfully it’s much lower.  
“Hey, I got someone I wanna set ya up with.”
“Who?” Just as he expected, you immediately sound interested and willing. 
“Samu.”
There’s a long pause and he begins to worry that the low hurdle that he needs to clear is actually higher than he anticipated. 
“Your brother?” you finally ask, your expression wrinkling with confusion.
“Yeah. Why? What’s the big deal?” Now he’s the one confused as he watches your small frown begin to grow a little deeper.
“I don’t know. Isn’t it kind of…weird?” Your hesitancy towards going out with Osamu is a least a lot more gentle than Osamu’s was towards you. “You guys are identical twins. You have the same face and everything. Wouldn’t it be like dating you?”
There’s a hint of disgust in your tone and he would be offended if he didn’t feel the same way about the notion of dating you.
“You could only be so lucky,” he says with a snort before deciding that he’ll have to pull out the caring, earnest, brotherly approach once again. “Please? I’m worried if he doesn’t go out with someone soon then he’s just gonna spend the rest of his life alone with his onigiri.” 
This is yet another half-truth that he has to tell in this scheme. Because while he does sometimes think that Osamu’s on the path to becoming a hermit, he’s way more concerned about you. With the way things are going for you, one day he’s going to get a call about how some scumbag that you’re in love with emptied your bank account and ran off in the middle of the night. 
But the half-truth seems to work because pity momentarily flashes across your face. He just needs to push a little bit more.
“I’m not supposed to say anything, but he asked if he thought he had a shot with ya,” he sighs, trying to sound reluctant, like he’s had no choice but to reveal this made-up secret. And what can it hurt? It’s just another white lie.
“He did?” You sound baffled rather than flattered and he hopes you can’t see the spike of panic that he feels. “What brought that on? I haven’t even seen him in forever.”
“He saw yer thirst trap on Instagram,” he blurts out to distract you and he breathes a sigh of relief when you gasp at the accusation.
“I told you! It wasn’t a thirst trap! I genuinely wanted to know if that outfit was appropriate for a work event!” you whine pathetically.
“Okay, yeah. Sure,” he scoffs and rolls his eyes. “Nothing says business like a shirt unbuttoned so low that your hot-pink bra peeks out.”
You open your mouth to protest your innocence but Atsumu cuts you off before the argument can really get started. The mission here is to ensure yours and Osamu’s eternal happiness and he intends to see success.
“Look, you deserve someone who treats ya right,” he offers, sincerity shining through in his words and expression. “Samu’s a good guy. I trust him with ya.”
“I don’t know…” you trail off, sounding much less firm in your reservations than only a few minutes before.
“Remind me what happened on yer last date?” 
You look away from him with a petulant frown.
“…he ordered his food to go and then left me at the restaurant,” you mutter under your breath.
He raises an eyebrow as if that says it all — which it does. You just roll your eyes with a huff.
“Fine!” you relent, throwing your hands up in the air before pointing a firm finger in his direction. “But if it gets weird then I’m blaming you.”
He just grins triumphantly and pulls out his phone so that he can send your number to Osamu. But then he sees you suddenly pout and groans at your dramatics.
“What’s wrong now?” he asks impatiently and your pout grows deeper.
“Y’know he could at least have liked my thirst trap,” you mumble and Atsumu’s eyes light up.
“So you admit it! It was a thirst trap!” he crows, even as he hopes that it doesn’t come out until you guys are married that Osamu only ever uses Instagram to post on Onigiri Miya’s business account.
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13phantom13angel13 · 5 months
Text
Thief
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
A/N: Hello! It is I! Your Squealing Santa! Surprise! You really gave me some damn good prompts and pairings. I had such a hard time choosing! Anyways, this was my first time writing for JJK. I hope you enjoy it! It was fun to write! Happy holidays! @giggly-squiggily
~~~~~~~~~~~~~
The christmas season had rolled around at Jujutsu High. The pleasing aroma of gingerbread, peppermint, and chocolate filled the air of the dorms’ kitchen. Anyone who entered the building would be smacked in the face by the sweet scent…the sound of bickering.
Satoru Gojo and Suguru Geto stood in the kitchen bickering with each other. Geto, wearing an apron with some flour and chocolate smudged on him; Gojo wearing a shit eating grin as he held up one of the fresh gingerbread men that was just pulled out of the oven.
“Dammit, Satoru! Would you quit eating the cookies!? You’re going to eat them all before we can even decorate them!” Geto snarled at him, swatting him away with the spatula he wielded.
“I will do no such thing!” Gojo argued back, dodge by him with ease as he took another bite of the cookie. “I can’t eat all of them in one sitting.” He smirked as Geto’s jaw clenched.
“That’s literally the third one you just ate. If you eat one more, there will be consequences.” He growled out in annoyance. Gojo chuckled deviously at the threat.
“I would like to see you try, my dear Suguru.”
Geto’s eye twitched as Gojo took another bite of the sweet delicacy he stole.
“Get your thieving ass out of the kitchen, you menace.”
The challenging grin that spread across Gojo’s face made Geto want to punch him. Then he spoke the famous last words.
“Make me.”
It was Geto’s turn to smirk as he set the spatula down on the counter, taking the apron off from around his neck as he approached the cocky pale haired man with cracking knuckles. Gojo’s grin fell as he recognized the mischievous twinkle in his boyfriend’s eyes. He gulped as he took a couple of steps back.
“Now, Suguru. Think about this.”
“Oh, I have thought about it,” Geto stated as he boxed Gojo in against the adjacent counter. “And I think this is a suiting punishment for your crime, cookie thief!”
Gojo squealed as Geto’s fingers descended upon his sides. Bubbly giggles came spilling past his lips as he squirmed in place.
“Suhuhuhuguruhuhuhu! Nohohoho fahahahahair!”
“It’s plenty fair! I told you to stop eating the damn cookies but you didn’t want to listen. Suffer the consequences!” He scolded as his fingers traveled across his stomach. Gojo giggled harder.
“Tihihihihickling is agahahahahainst the ruhuhules!”
“Pfft! According to whom, exactly? Not you, that’s for sure!” Geto’s fingers traveled up his ribs, his giggles turning into laughter.
“AH! NONONONOHOHOHO!”
Geto laughed with him.
“You sounded like Santa! That’s how you get into the holiday spirit. Not by stealing cookies. Now, are you ready to apologize?” Geto asked the near hysterical man in front of him. Gojo shook his head as wiggling fingers traveled higher on his rib cage. Geto clicked his tongue disapprovingly.
“Suit yourself.” With one hand, Geto attacked Gojo’s armpit. With the other, he grabbed his hip and squeezed in such a torturous fashion that Gojo actually screamed.
“FUHUHUHUHUCK!!! SUGURU NOHOHOHOHO!! NOHOHOHOT THEHEHEHEHERE!!”
Loud, boisterous laughter exploded from him as his knees buckled, sending him to the floor. Geto followed him down with tickling fingers still attached to their targets.
“Give it up, Satoru. We both know you’re too ticklish to keep this up much longer.” Geto said with a fond chuckle. Listening to his boyfriend laugh was one of his favorite things in the world.
By this point, Gojo’s cheeks had turned a pretty decent shade of red. Not enough to be alarming, but enough to know he was reaching his limits. Tears of mirth glistened in the corners of his eyes as he weakly batted at Geto’s hands.
“OKAHAHAHAY!! OKAHAHAHAHAY!! I’M SOHOHOHORRY!! YOU WIHIHIHIN!!” Gojo screeched in hysterics.
“Are you going to stop stealing cookies and leave me alone to bake in peace?”
“YEHEHEHEHES!! JUST STAHAHAHAHAHAP!! SUGURU PLEHEHEHEHEHEHEASE!!” Gojo begged as the first tear trickled down his cheek. That was his signal to stop.
Geto withdrew his hands and sat beside Gojo, rubbing his back gently as he caught his breath. Gojo peered up at him as he wiped his eyes.
“That was rude and uncalled for…” He panted softly. Geto gave him a flat stare.
“What’s rude and uncalled for is stealing my cookies. Now shoo. I have to finish up these cookies so they’re cooler enough to decorate this evening.”
“Yeah yeah. I’m going.” Gojo got to his feet, exchanging as gentle kiss with Geto as he walked out of the kitchen to leave his boyfriend in peace.
Lesson learned, Gojo. Don’t be a cookie thief.
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callsign-relic · 8 months
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I was hoping to request some more first contact Rodimus 👉🏽👈🏽 Now that him and the resident human can communicate he's learning exactly what their boundaries are. Basically him just realizing how smothered they felt and falling into a much more comfortable and tentative friendship. Maybe she even explains how she doesn't like some of the things he did like not being given a choice w the laying on top of his chest plate thing?
Aahhh I’m happy to do some TCFC!Rodimus for you! After this request I did note in my rules that if you’d like a First Contact Rodimus separate from my Too Close For Comfort series you’re more than welcome to do that, it’s explained further in depth there! But seeing as you specified events from TCFC I’m assuming you’re asking for a continuation, which I’m happy to do for you :) and for those who aren’t familiar with my Too Close For Comfort series, you can find all of the parts either in my masterlist or under the tag “#too close for comfort fic”, which is listed below!
Hope you enjoy!
Warnings: SFW, GN!Human!Reader, First Contact AU
The bots did keep their promise— the Lost Light was now headed back towards Earth. But seeing as you were lightyears upon lightyears away from your home by now, you had a feeling you had a very, very long trip ahead of you.
While part of you dreaded that fact, you at least felt some relief in that now you had a voice. Gone were the days of getting dragged along against your will, with these Cybertronians none the wiser. They could understand you, and you could understand them, all you needed now was the glue to piece those two parts together: decent communication.
And that was something that, to your surprise, both you and Rodimus were keen on upholding.
There were your high days and low days, of course. Sometimes you didn’t wanna be anywhere Rodimus— your homesickness getting the better of you and pushing you away from everyone.
But there were other days where you somehow found you adored spending time with him.
Standing high in the air up on the captain’s shoulder, watching the world race by as he merely walked. Seeing the world at his level almost made you forget you were the odd one out here. You’d feel the constant presence of the captain beside you, the feeling of every little motion he made running waves through your comparably tiny form. A small huff of air blows past you, and you turn your head upward to see Rodimus gazing at you with a small, sweet smile— huffing a small chuckle through his nose.
“What?” You ask, playfully raising an eyebrow and crossing your arms.
“Oh, nothing,” he replies nearly instantly, shifting his head back forward, but keeping his attention focused on you through the corners of his optics.
“C’mon, Rodimus— I know you well enough to know when something’s on your mind.” You lean forwards just a bit to try and make better eye contact. “Well, I mean. It’s not like you’re very subtle to begin with.”
The orange mech laughs, “Hey!” and you find yourself laughing too. “I-I dunno’, I just…”
When Rodimus trails off, your grin fades. A dark, familiar feeling stirs within you. No, you couldn’t think that way anymore— Rodimus had changed. You and he had both agreed: you had started fresh now.
“I’m… glad to see you like this,” he finishes, and you release a breath you didn’t realize you were holding.
You tilt your head, “What do you mean?” You had a feeling that this conversation was going to be a hefty one, so you took the opportunity to get comfortable— taking a seat upon the mech’s shoulder and dangling your legs off the side.
Rodimus struggles to find his words, stammering for a moment as he turns to look at you fully. “Not sure, I mean… seeing you happy, I guess.” When you offer another raised eyebrow and a disbelieving smile, the captain chuckles. “You know what I mean! Actually happy! And not in the way that’s just me imagining it cause I couldn’t understand you and was too worried about how cute you were.”
“What?”
“Uh— ignore that last part!” He scrambles to say, and you have to hold your stomach from how hard you ended up laughing. “Look, all this is to say is— I’m… I’m glad we’re okay now.”
Once you cool down, you look up into the mech’s blue optics and offer him a little smile of your own. “I am too. I mean, back before everything, I didn’t really feel like my own person anymore. You were nice to me, of course, but there were a lot of times where I felt… dragged along. Without any real regard for myself.”
Rodimus’ expression falls, and he looks at you with furrowed brows. “What do you mean?”
You absentmindedly fiddle with your hands as you go on, “Well, uh… take for example, that night we were going to sleep and you laid me on your chest? You might have not thought much of it, but in reality, I felt… kind of terrified.”
The captain began to slow as you spoke, and though you felt it beneath you, you didn’t let that stop you from continuing— even when he eventually came to a stop. “Your… your hand was directly on top of me and I was scared of waking you up and you putting me, like— on your neck or something,” there’s a slight chuckle to your words, but the memory still stings. You didn’t even realize you had long broken eye contact with Rodimus by now.
“But… then I felt your heartbeat underneath me, and that’s really what scared me. The fact that I’m so… small, compared to you. So small that even a natural function like that shook me to my core.”
You only manage to look up when you notice Rodimus wasn’t speaking. The sorrow you thought would be spread all over his faceplate looked more like… confusion, than anything.
“I’m sorry, ‘heartbeat’?”
You’re taken aback— you don’t think you’d have to explain something like that to him. Was he being serious? “Uh, you know. Your heart? Beats in your chest? Keeps you alive?” You pound your fist rhythmically to your chest a couple of times for good measure.
The captain only blinks. “Do… is that what you call your spark?”
“My what?”
“Your spark,” he repeats, as if it was common knowledge. “Beats in its chamber, keeps you alive.” He also pounds a servo to his chassis— the clanging metal vibrating through you and stinging your teeth.
“Okay, okay, point taken,” you laugh, and it warms your heart a little to see a smile return to Rodimus’ face. “But, really, do you get what I mean?”
“Yeah, I do. Again, I’m sorry I made you go through that,” he says earnestly, and you give him a nod of thanks. Then, a yellow servo rises before you— the mech had offered it as a platform beneath you. You gaze up at him questioningly, but when the only answer he gives is a tilt of his head, the only thing you can think to do to oblige him.
Slowly, you slide down from his shoulder and land in a crouch on his palm— and as you come to your feet, the mech brings you around and over near his chest. “In that case, I wanna’ ask,” he begins as he does so, “when I bring you near my chest at all in general, do you feel… as uncomfortable?”
Your eyes flick down from his face and over to his bright yellow chestplate. The stark red Autobot brand stares back at you.
“…no,” you decide, finally tearing your eyes away from his chest and back up to Rodimus. “No, when I’m just level like this, it’s fine.”
“Okay,” he says, and slowly, he pulls you in closer. His servo bumps against his chassis, but you’re still free to roam around in his palm. “And this?”
“No,” you answer, and with more confidence this time. Though you can hear the constant rumble of his engine churning within him, you didn’t feel put off by it. “This is fine too.”
Then, your world begins to shift around you. Rodimus’ hand tilts forward, and you have no choice but to lean your hands against his chest as you’re gently held against it. “And… this?”
You don’t respond as quickly as you did before. You didn’t even need to tune in and listen— the feeling was right there, throbbing and pulsing beneath you with just as much strength as you remembered. His heart— spark, you correct yourself— there, living within him. You feel your breath start to pick up in pace, and you nearly push yourself as far back as you can—
But then, you look upwards, and see Rodimus gazing at you. Listening intently for your next words.
You take a deep breath. “I… not for now, no,” you lightly push yourself off from his chassis and the captain takes the hint, pulling you up and away and bringing you back to his face. “Maybe… maybe with a little more time, though.”
Though you give him a smile to assure him not to worry, Rodimus’ concerned pout never changes. “You don’t have to if you don’t want to,” he says, “again, the last thing I want is for you to be uncomfortable here ever again.”
You actually laugh at that, though you aren’t sure why. Rodimus— the mech who put you through the most uncomfortable scenarios all the way up until now— didn’t want you to ever feel uncomfortable again. It was… sweet.
“I know I don’t have to,” you reply, stepping forwards on his servo and closer to his face. You dare to land a hand on the tip of his nose, and though the mech blinks in surprise, he doesn’t pull back. Rather, he lifts one of his own hands and very gently places a thumb on the top of your head, running it down the back of your head in smooth, slow motions.
“But, with how we are now… I’m willing to try.”
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itsohh · 1 year
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A/N: G/N reader, wanted to write something sweet about Price. This fic in no way is sexual.
Summary:   After the events of MW2, John finally returns home to find you in the bath and joins you.
Word count: 1143  
Warnings: nudity?
AO3 Masterlist
So incredibly tired, John practically melted into his house the second he slipped through the door. A light hum of music travelled through the house and while he was surprised by it, it wasn't an unwelcome surprise. Boots off, he rolled his shoulders as slowly he walked towards the sound. It was a telltale sign that you were home.
As he neared the bathroom, he could faintly hear your voice sing along with the door partially ajar. John didn't bother to knock, he pushed open the door slightly and leaned on the now-open door frame. The movement of the door caught your eye and you gave him a warm smile at his presence.
"Captain, your home." Your voice was a purr and your eyes examined his rather dirty and sweaty form as you turned the music off.
"Captain was left at the door, sweetheart. Got room for a second?" You pushed your lips together for a moment and broke eye contact.
"Be my guest." He picked up on this and he paused.
"It's fine if you don't, I can have a shower later." He shrugged and your eyes widened slightly. "I don't mind waiting. Just happy to see you, speaking of, why are you home?" Your eye shit for a moment and you let out a breath at his question.
Ever so slowly you moved your hidden arm. Your body had done a good job of concealing it, the cast and the plastic bag around it.
John froze at the sight. "You broke your arm?"
"Fractured actually."
"How?" There was a certain coldness behind the question. A seriousness that only came from care.
"Training accident if you believe it." You nervously laughed.
"Accident?"
"Yeah, me and one of the other boys were getting into it on the mats. Had a messy takedown, awkward angle."
"Fucking hell-" He started to hiss, that calm but pissed-off voice of his.
"John, I'm fine really. Look I'm pretty tired so would you please come in here and help me? It's kind of hard trying to keep this dry."
Immediately his eyes softened and he pushed off the doorframe. "Of course." First, his shirt fell to the ground and then came his trousers. The bath was a decently sized one. It fitted the pair of you both well. Often at times, you would share it, being in between his legs, head resting on his chest in his arms. But this time John opted to face you.
The water had risen a decent amount when he entered and slashed just a bit on the floor. John's hands found the bottom of your ankle and brought it onto his lap where he started to rub the skin, cleaning it, feeling it.
"Tell me what you need from me."  His gentle voice came, his fingers on the soul of your foot, rubbing it.
"Mmm, I couldn't do my hair properly but ah, that feels pretty nice." John watched as your eyes lazily shut and sunk down slightly more into the water.
"I'm not in any hurry. Enjoy yourself, love."
"Ngh, your too good to me John."
"Not enough in my opinion." He huffed in a smile, you cracked one eye open and gave him a playful glare in response.
"Are you calling me a liar?" You pulled your foot from him and it sunk back down into the water.
"Never. Wouldn't think of it." Water swished around the tub when you finally turned, careful not to push too much onto the floor. Settled in between John's legs you sunk down and leaned against his chest. So far down, your chin almost hit the water. A small snap came from the shampoo bottle when John opened it. A moment later his callused fingers ran through your hair, needing at your head. “Mmmm.” You hummed, your head tilted back with your eyes shut.
“Keep those eyes closed.” John cupped some water and started to rinse the shampoo from your hair, careful to stop the water from running down the front of your face. “How long have they sent you home for? I presume a while since your country it’s going to be a while.”
“Three months, fractured wrist.” Your free hand went to his thigh, gently rubbing away any dirt and sweat in the water. At first, it tensed slightly but soon relaxed as he conditioned your hair. “What about you? Did you hear about Chicago?” His warm chuckle came from behind you and you turned your head slightly.
“You could say something like that.”
“Mmm, I won’t ask.” You turned back and allowed him to continue massaging your head.
“Kate got taken, had a few turn against us, Shadow Company, Shepard. Certainly was an eventful few days.”
“Shit, is Laswell alright?” your head flinched and he threaded his hands in deep to correct your head. The feeling had you unwillingly melt into him once again, letting out a small moan which turned into a groan.
“We got her back, wouldn’t be here if we hadn’t.”
“Sucks about Shepard. He was kind of a dick anyway and lacked empathy. Too…analytical for my taste.” You spoke while he washed out the conditioner.
“And I’m not?”
“You see people more than pawns John.” Slowly you started to turn around. John lift his hands away from you and allowed you to move. Now once again facing towards him, you placed a hand on his face and rubbed away the lasting dark marks. “You’re passionate and you care. It’s a couple of the reasons I fell in love with you.”
“Not just my dashing looks?” He gave you a grin that consumed the right side of his face.
“I would say that's an added bonus.” You laughed and leaned in to meet your lips against his. It was a short and quick kiss. One with both of your smiles, a sweet kiss. “Now, as much as I would love to stay in here, I’m kind of turning into a shrimp. I’m happy to get a chair and keep you company though.” You shifted backwards and started to get up. He held a hand for you to grab on to once you rose to your legs. A hand that you leaned on slightly as you got out, a hand that kept you stable when your feet met the wet tiles around the foot towel.
“You go get dressed for bed. I’ll finish up here and join you. Won’t be long.”
“You sure?” You grabbed a towel and wrapped it around your torso.
“Certain.” He nodded towards you and you leaned over the bath slightly to press a kiss against his head.
“I’ll be waiting.
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