#i recommend screaming in a corner personally /half joking
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“I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight”
Pairing: Johnny x reader (or OC)
Word Count: 3988
Genre: fluff, not smut but they both really wanna toe the line
Warnings: language, some sexy kisses (cover your eyes kids)
Summary: Johnny takes his best friend on their first date
A/N: this has absolutely morphed into a long term couple, because apparently Princess has taken the reins 😂 if you like this, check out the rest of their story so far on my masterlist!
You were nervous. Friends with Johnny since diapers, and somehow you were nervous to meet him in five minutes. You glanced at the time—make that four minutes.
Pacing back and forth in front of the door, you smoothed down your dress again. All Johnny had told you was to dress up. He might be a fashion king, but he wasn’t exactly the best at sharing details. You’d teetered between twenty different outfits before finally settling on a happy medium. Couldn’t show up to a museum in an evening gown. Well, you supposed you could, if you even owned one. So the little black dress at the back of your closet was the final choice. Safe enough for just about every venue, since Johnny hadn’t told you where your date would be.
You sucked in a breath, fighting against the nerves tight in your stomach. Your first date, oh my gosh. How were you supposed to date Johnny? You’d done practically everything together already, what made this different from going to the movies together last week? Aside from the obvious—last week, you didn’t know what Johnny’s lips felt like on yours.
Then you groaned at your sudden realization. Jeez, you couldn’t do anything right in this relationship with Johnny. You were about to have your first date but you’d already had a hot and heavy makeout session at an unmentionable hour of the morning. So much for “will I kiss him afterwards?” Dating for five seconds, and everything was already out of order. You wanted to scream, but before your thoughts could really start spiraling, you heard a knock at the door.
You were sweating, oh gosh. Did you need to reapply deodorant? You froze, staring at nothing. Until another knock sounded, this time accompanied by Johnny’s familiar voice, “Yo, are you ready to go?”
You sagged in relief. Nothing else would have snapped you out of the nervous cycle better than Johnny being….well, Johnny. And when you finally convinced yourself to open the door, the sight of his easy smile was enough for yours to appear, too.
“Well, uh, hi,” he stuttered, making you giggle.
You slipped on your shoes, grabbed a small purse, and locked the door behind you. Then you linked arms with Johnny, “Alright, where to, mystery man? You haven’t told me anything.”
“That’s mostly because I didn’t figure anything out until today.”
Biting your lip to hold back a giggle, you tugged him down the hallway. “No wonder you didn’t share much detail. I should’ve known.”
Johnny tightened his grip on you when you stepped out of the elevator, leading you to the car. He didn’t say much, which was a bit out of character. Frowning up at him, you tried to meet his gaze. He finally looked down at you when he opened the passenger door for you to get in. “You, uh, you look really nice tonight.”
A small smile bloomed, “Not looking so bad yourself, hot stuff.”
* * * * *
Apparently Johnny had picked out a restaurant for dinner. A fancy restaurant. You read through the list of entrees with a barely-concealed grimace. “Do you know what any of these words mean?” you asked him.
Johnny beamed at you, “Nope, that’s half the fun.”
A waiter walked by with a tray destined for another table, and you both gaped at the miniscule portion sizes. “Those look like appetizers,” Johnny said, goggling at the tiny salad. “Maybe I can order several steaks. I’d need about five of them.” He started eyeing the menu again.
“As long as you’re picking up the tab,” you joked.
“Oh, I thought you were,” he said, all wide eyed innocence. You smacked his arm with your menu, fighting a grin at his usual antics. The couple at the next table shot you a look, and you hunched back in your seat.
“Don’t worry, I’m paying. Order whatever you’d like,” Johnny said, still puzzling over the ridiculous dinner options.
You frowned, reaching for your water. But shoot, it probably cost five bucks for tap, you thought with no small amount of horror. You set it back down before you drained more of Johnny’s wallet.
After a few more minutes of torturous silence, trying not to fidget too much, you leaned forward. “Do we even have a waiter?”
Johnny jerked upright, looking over his shoulder at the man in question. “I don’t know?”
“I’ve been trying to make eye contact with the staff for five minutes and they’re all ignoring me.”
Johnny blinked at you. “Wait, are you ready to order?”
“No, I wanna ask if they charge for water.”
“No one charges for water,” he chortled.
“I bet it’s five bucks a glass,” you said, crossing your arms.
Now Johnny was really laughing, and half the restaurant was staring at your table. “Only if it’s imported from the crystal springs of Iceland,” he said, grinning.
“Wait, really?”
“Hell if I know,” Johnny said, making you snort some of your water. You shrunk down in your chair, hiding your red face while he kept laughing.
“I don’t know this man,” you said to the people at the next table. They stared at you, whispering among themselves. Pouting, you turned back to Johnny. “I can’t believe you booked a table here,” you cocked an eyebrow at him. “I thought we were burger joint people, not escargot snobs.”
“Do you really not wanna eat here?” he asked, propping his elbows on the table.
You opened your mouth to respond, but your waiter finally showed up to take your order. “Good evening, can I interest you in anything else to drink?”
“Any Icelandic sparkling water?” Now Johnny was the one snorting inelegantly.
The waiter laughed, despite not knowing the joke. “Can I interest you in a bottle of red? You seem like a red wine woman.”
You smiled politely, reaching for the wine list when he offered it to you. “Sure, I’ll take a look.”
The waiter smirked, eyes landing on you. “I’ll have to card you, miss.”
Your brows raised, but you complied, digging out your wallet. Across the table, Johnny cleared his throat, “Do I look like a red wine guy?” But the waiter barely glanced at him before his eyes were back on you.
“Your photo doesn’t do you justice,” the waiter commented, handing your ID back.
“No one looks good in those pictures,” you chuckled.
“I beg to differ,” he said, then nodded at the wine list. “What can I get you?”
You glanced over at Johnny, who was fidgeting enough to shake the table. Curious. “What do you recommend?” you asked, twirling a strand of hair around one finger.
“You might be interested in one of our finer vintages,” he began, leaning over your shoulder to point out a few wines on the list. You heard a subtle sound, and out of the corner of your eye, saw Johnny’s fingers rapping the table at a rapidly increasing pace. You bit your lip, focusing on the wines again, but not before adding a little more fuel to the fire. Time to test your theory. You crossed your legs, brushing one foot up Johnny’s calf in the process. The man jumped as if electrocuted, his knees banging into the underside of the table.
“How about this one?” you asked innocently, looking up at the waiter again.
“A lovely choice, though it is on the higher range, so I’m not sure—”
“We’ll take it,” Johnny announced, plucking the wine list from your fingers and shoving it at the waiter.
You raised an eyebrow, but the waiter simply smiled at you, apparently unbothered by growly Johnny. “I’ll bring that right out for you,” he said, taking the wine menu and leaving you to suffer over dinner options.
Johnny cleared his throat, leaning towards you again. “That waiter’s a bit weird, huh?” he asked, watching the man walk away. “He didn’t even ask what I wanted.”
You donned your best sparkly-eyed expression, “But he’s being so friendly! He really deserves a nice tip, he had some helpful suggestions.”
Johnny frowned, “He’s obviously flirting with you.”
“No way,” you laughed, waving him off.
Johnny rolled his eyes, “Trust me. He’s flirting with you more than I am, and I’m the one taking you on a date.”
You leaned forward, resting your elbows on the table. “Maybe you should start flirting with me some more, then.”
Johnny sent you an indecipherable look. You wondered if your teasing had worked. But Johnny seemed to have calmed down some, now that the helpful waiter was out of sight.
You shrugged, sitting back in your chair. You changed the subject, giving the man a break. “Seriously, we don’t need to spend this much on dinner. I feel bad.”
“I thought you’d like this place,” Johnny said, brows furrowing.
“I will literally go anywhere with you, it doesn’t matter, I just….I dunno, I feel like I don’t fit in here.” You weren’t quite sure how to express your fear that people would call you a gold-digger or something, only dating Johnny now that he’d achieved success. Even if the two of you knew better, it still made your stomach twist. And not in the nice way it did while watching Johnny’s hands playing with his water glass. Shoot, shoot, shoot, now his fingers were wet from the condensation. You really didn’t need to know what that looked like. Had his hands always been that large? You shifted in your seat.
Johnny’s mouth twisted in a wry smile, “I don’t know if either of us really fit in with the rich old person vibe, but I heard the food is good.”
I’d rather have a bite of you, you thought to yourself, twisting the napkin in your lap. You’d never seen him in a suit before. Or at least, not in person.
Johnny coughed suddenly, staring at you with wide eyes. “What?”
Oh shit, did you say that out loud? Your cheeks burned. “Um, I’d be, uh,” you stuttered, trying to cover your mistake, all confidence extinguished. “We could get burgers, or something.”
Johnny sat back in his chair, eyes on yours. He smirked, and you wanted to disappear into a hole in the ground. Oh no, he definitely heard you.
“As long as I get to keep watching you,” Johnny said, voice low. “You really are beautiful, not just tonight. Every night.”
You opened your mouth, not sure what to say, but knowing that you wanted Johnny to keep looking at you like that. Like you were the main course. “Johnny, I—”
“Your wine, miss,” the waiter had returned. You bit back a frown, knowing he was just doing his job. But he seriously couldn’t have waited another minute?
“Thank you,” you murmured, sampling the first sip before allowing the waiter to pour both glasses.
“Can I interest you in any appetizers?” he asked, pouring Johnny’s wine.
You blinked, having forgotten the menu entirely. Across the table, Johnny pulled out the menu, but before he could point anything out, the waiter was hovering over your shoulder. “Might I recommend the cheese board? It will pair beautifully with this bottle.”
“Might I tell you my order?” Johnny said. His smile was sharper than before. You might have teased him some more, but you got a bit distracted by Johnny’s jawline as he turned to speak to the waiter. Honestly, you were having trouble tearing your eyes away from him all night. It felt like seeing him for the first time, and in a way, you supposed you were. You’d always known Johnny was attractive, since the time all boys started to look cute. You’d just never let yourself think about it too much. Best friend mental boundaries and all that.
Maybe if Johnny hadn’t said anything on that night, you wouldn’t have ever seen him like this. You wouldn’t have allowed yourself to admire the column of his neck, or his long fingers as they unbuttoned the top of his shirt. It would’ve been you and your stupid butterflies trapped in the friend zone forever.
Thoroughly distracted now, you bit your lip as you wondered what Johnny’s neck would look like with some new decorations.
“You realize they sell food here, right? You don’t have to look at me like I’m an appetizer,” Johnny whispered across the table dramatically. You startled, looking around, but the waiter had left at some point during your daydream. Oh gosh, did you drool? You pressed the back of your hand to your face discreetly, relieved to find nothing of the sort.
Then your brain caught up to Johnny, and you looked up at him with a smirk, “You’re too big to be an appetizer.”
Johnny choked on a laugh, covering his mouth to hide his smile when the other diners looked your way. When he appeared to have himself under control again, he eyed you from head to toe—or at least what he could see from across the table. He shot you a grin, “You’ll find out soon enough, won’t you?”
You watched him through your lashes, not quite sure what to make of him anymore. You’d had your fair share of fun with other guys, but never in a million years had you imagined flirting with Johnny so blatantly. Let alone in a fancy five star restaurant like this.
A sudden presence at your side startled you, and you jumped a little when the waiter reached over your shoulder to set a dish down. “Sorry for startling you,” he murmured, moving away slightly, but not before brushing your shoulder in apology. “Should I leave you with this for now, or are you ready to order?”
Johnny’s eyes flashed, and you bit back a curse at the waiter’s truly stellar ability to interrupt. “We’re fine, thank you,” you said, unable to stop watching Johnny. Or his hand, slowly tightening into a fist on top of the table.
“Would you like to hear the specials tonight?”
You donned a polite smile, nodding at the waiter to continue. While he read down the list of fancy-sounding entrées, you turned your smile on Johnny, who was vibrating in his seat again. You could’ve sworn your water glasses were shaking, and you held back a giggle. You uncrossed and recrossed your legs, extra slowly to make sure he got the message when you “accidentally” brushed his knee this time. The vibrations stopped, and his eyes burned into you.
“Thank you, we’ll keep looking over the menu,” Johnny interrupted the waiter, his voice deeper than before. Your smile only grew.
Once the waiter was out of earshot, you leaned in. “Can we leave? I can’t even kiss you here.”
“Yep, yes, absolutely,” Johnny said, standing up the second the words were out of your mouth. He nearly upended the table, making you snort. “Right now,” he nodded, striding for the exit.
You scrambled out of your chair, rushing after him. “Johnny,” you hissed, grabbing his sleeve. “We didn’t pay yet.”
He came to a halt in the hallway, and you nearly ran into his back. Then Johnny turned around, and you became very aware of the semi-secluded location as he moved closer. You squeaked out a panicked, “Not here!” You backed away until he finally reached out, one hand circling your waist to reel you in.
Johnny’s eyes moved over your shoulder, then back to yours. He smirked, leaning in close enough for you to feel his lips brushing your cheek as he murmured, “Tell the valet to get the car. I’ll grab the wine.”
You could’ve sworn you felt his hand brush down your back, lower. Your cheeks burned hotter. But when you turned, Johnny’s broad shoulders were disappearing around the corner, and the waiter was hurrying in the opposite direction.
* * * * *
You ended up ditching the car and walking around the neighborhood. You only looked slightly out of place with your high heels and makeup when you ended up at a tteokbokki joint. You’d played rock paper scissors between that and burgers, and Johnny won, as usual.
After dinner, you were reasonably close to your apartment, so Johnny offered to walk you home. It felt like another one of your late-night adventures, except you were usually in sneakers. When your feet got tired, you stopped in the middle of the block to take off the killer heels, sighing in relief. You slung the straps over your wrist, prepared to keep trudging along, when Johnny swooped in. One second, you were on the ground, the next, you were admiring the top view of Johnny’s ass from where you were dangling over his shoulder.
“Johnny, what the fuck,” you asked breathlessly, dying of laughter. And from his shoulder digging into your diaphragm.
“Are you crazy? You could cut your feet open,” he scolded you.
“At least there’s a nice view,” you sighed, reaching down to pat his butt.
Johnny put a little bounce in his next step, and you grunted at the impact. You could practically feel his smug little grin. “Hands off the merchandise.”
“How is that fair? You totally copped a feel back at the restaurant.”
“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”
“Bull,” you said. “You went all ‘alpha male’ with that nice waiter.”
Johnny huffed, “I wasn’t jealous.”
You grinned in victory. “I never said you were, mister offering-up-information. Now put me down, you caveman.”
Johnny’s grip on your thighs loosened, and his hands slid up to your waist, holding you tightly as he helped you back down. You froze for a second when your feet hit the ground, not expecting to be face-to-face with him so suddenly. “Wait right there,” Johnny said firmly, finally releasing your waist.
You blinked at him in confusion, watching as he slid his suit jacket off. Your eyes widened when he reached for you, but it was only to wrap the jacket around your waist, tying the sleeves into a knot to hold it in place.
“There,” Johnny said, nodding at his handiwork. Then he turned, crouching down slightly. “Alright, princess, hop on.”
You beamed at him, not that he could see it. It wouldn’t be a walk with Johnny if he didn’t end up carrying you at the end of the night, you chuckled to yourself. You were fiercely grateful to Johnny for thinking of his jacket—you weren’t quite sure how long your skirt was, now that you were wrapped around him like a koala.
“Thanks, Johnny,” you mumbled, burying your face in his neck. “You’re the bestest.” You left a smacking kiss on his cheek, and he laughed, tightening his hold on your legs.
Finally, you arrived at your apartment building. You slid your heels back on, balancing with one hand on Johnny’s arm. “I’ll walk you up,” he said once you straightened.
But when you got to your door, you hesitated, unsure what to say. Was this the part where you kissed him goodnight? You were torn, so at odds with the way the night resembled your old friend dates, only now things were different. What were you supposed to do?
“So,” Johnny drawled, leaning against the wall. “Where’s my tip?”
You stared at him, incredulous. “Your tip?” you repeated.
“Johnny’s chauffeur service isn’t free,” he said. “And if I remember correctly, you still owe me for last time.”
You cocked a hip, smirking slightly. “Any preferred payment methods?”
Johnny blew you an air kiss, and you made a show of catching it. “I take cash or card,” he informed you.
“What a shame,” you murmured, dropping your purse in front of the door. “I seem to have lost my wallet.”
He watched you carefully, barely blinking as you approached him, one slow step at a time. “Apps?”
You stopped mere inches away, “Not a single one.”
He swallowed, and your eyes tracked the movement. Your daydream from before came back with a vengeance—you bit your lip at the thought of marking him up. Then you leaned in, resting one hand on his chest. His heart pounded through the thin dress shirt.
“Will this do?” you asked, lips just barely brushing his. Nothing else touched, aside from your fingertips on his sternum, but you could’ve sworn you felt him shiver.
Oh so slowly, Johnny reached out, hands ghosting over your hips. You smiled against him, then melded your lips to his, bypassing whatever hesitations were holding you back. What was the worst that could happen?
You felt Johnny teasing at the seam of your lips and gratefully opened for him. He inhaled sharply when you inched forward, your chest brushing his. You couldn’t hear anything but your heart racing. And when his fingers dug into your hips, you fell into the kiss. He pulled you in like a magnet until every part of you aligned with him. Your limbs felt molten, burning at the contact.
Johnny pulled away, but not for long. You gasped for air as his lips traced over your jawline, making their way to the delicate skin beneath your ear. He pressed hot kisses there until your neck arched back obediently. And when he nipped at your throat, you whimpered. Thoughtlessly, your hips rocked forward. Johnny gave voice to a deep groan, so you did it again.
Growling lightly, Johnny curled an arm around your waist to pull you harder against him. All of the breath left your body at the feel of his growing hardness against your belly. You fisted your hands in his collar, tugging him away from your neck. You caught a glimpse of his kiss-swollen lips and blown out pupils, then dove back in for more.
While your mouth danced with his, your hands dragged southward. Your fingernails caught on a button or two as you traced the muscle beneath. Now Johnny’s hips were bucking into yours. You grinned savagely into the kiss. You’d just reached his belt when Johnny ripped his mouth away from yours. “Woah, woah,” he gasped. “Slow down, there.”
You panted for air, “What’s wrong?”
Both of you were breathing hard, and you were having a hard time ignoring the elephant in the room. Er, hallway. “You’re not trying to take advantage of me on the first date, are you?” Johnny asked with a breathy chuckle.
You laughed softly, tilting your chin back to get a good look at him. “Is it really taking advantage if you want it, too?” You smirked at him, rolling your hips forward to emphasize your point.
He watched you through half-lidded eyes, and you could’ve sworn you felt him throb. But Johnny, ever the gentleman, smoothed his hand down your back, resting his head back against the wall rather than picking up where you left off. “Cut me some slack, I’m not wearing my sexy underwear tonight,” he said with a crooked smile.
Oh no, now you had heart eyes for the man. You pecked his chin to hide your cheesy grin. “You let me know when you are, hmm?” you hummed, placing another kiss to the base of his throat.
“Princess, I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready for you.”
You giggled, leaning back in his arms. “Am I so scary?”
Johnny sobered, meeting your gaze. “I just don’t want to mess anything up. Not with you.”
“I don’t think that’s possible,” you smiled at him. “I trust you too much.”
“Oh yeah? You still haven’t told me what you wished for on your fourteenth birthday,” Johnny taunted.
You tilted your head, thinking back. “I didn’t tell you because I was hopelessly in love with you at the time,” you confessed. “Now that’s out in the open, I guess you can know.”
Johnny blinked, taken aback. “Even then?”
“Johnny, I think I’ve loved you forever,” you said, staring up at him. “So of course I wished for the same thing every year.”
“What was it?”
Your smile widened, “Well, it already came true. You said it, too.”
* * * * *
Masterlist
#johnny fluff#johnny imagines#johnny scenarios#johnny fanfic#johnny x reader#johnny suh fluff#johnny suh x reader#johnny suh imagines#johnny suh fanfic#nct imagines#nct fluff#nct fanfic#nct 127 imagines#nct 127 fluff#nct 127 fic
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in which you’re harry’s assistant and harry needs to open his eyes.
a/n: ASSISANT!YN has finally arrived! this took me three weeks and a half to write, so please enjoy and kindly rb with feedback! i’ve had this concept in mind for SO long, and i’m proud of it! this is also inspired by my love for the barcelona pic, pictured on the left, that I think about on the daily along with some thoughts in a dressing room! also picture on the right at the final show is an aspect in the story as well!
also big thank you to my bestie @stylesloveclub for screaming and hyping this up for me while I rave about it, ily!
enjoy a long slowburn of 26.3k words of a friends to lovers fic that’s filled with angst and some smut! genuinely be ready for the angst hehe
COME INTO MY INBOX AND LETS TALKING ABOUT WANT YOU HERE! i’d love to know your thoughts and feedback!
pls rb to share! <3
16 December 2017
The smell of fresh flowers brought allergies to your senses as you shuffled and continuously rubbed your nose with a tissue.
You were at the flower shop with two bouquets in your hands as you debated which bundle to get. You were given specific instructions to find a bouquet that’s full and big with the color white being the dominant color of the bouquet, and your options were a white orchid bunch, which weren’t your personal favorite, but it was one of the white bouquets, and your other option was a white lilac bouquet with a couple of white roses and baby’s breath around the large lilacs.
“Do you need help choosing a bouquet?” The lady that was named Vicky asked. She had an expression of curiosity as she was probably wondering if you were going to buy anything since you’ve been standing in the corner for quite some time as you tried choosing which bouquet to get.
“Oh, no. Thank you,” you replied back with a smile, and she nodded her head, walking away to help another customer, but you knew she was going to be back to ask you again in the next ten minutes if you don’t make your mind up right now.
After another three minutes of deciding, you opted for the white lilac bouquet, and headed to the cashier. You gave the employee your number for rewards since you were at the flower shop quite a lot that you’ve managed to rack up some points in order to get a free bouquet. Once you paid and were on your way, your phone rang in your purse. Struggling to reach for it as you were holding the big bouquet and a few shopping bags, you moved to the side to set your paper bags down on the ground, and quickly grabbed your phone so it won’t go to voicemail.
“Hey,” you answered cheerfully, knowing exactly who it was.
“Hi there. Where are you?” The voice from the other end asked.
“I just left the flower shop—should be there soon.”
“Okay, perfect. Thank you for everything.”
“Harry, you don’t need to thank me every single time,” you chuckled. “I’m your assistant. It’s my job.”
“I know, I know. It’s just…I’m grateful for what you do,” he said thankfully.
“I know, and I’m grateful for having this job and working for you. So, thank you also.”
“Look who’s saying thank you now,” he joked, and you laughed. “But I’ll see you soon. Walk back safely, please,” he said, bidding you goodbye.
“Always do. See you,” you hung up the phone, picking up the shopping bags, and walking towards Harry’s place.
You’ve been Harry’s assistant for quite some time now; exactly two years. You started working for him when you were both twenty one, and he had just gone separate ways from the band. Harry was in the midst of writing his very first album and planning his first world tour as a solo artist in smaller theatre venues, and desperately needed an assistant to do some basic errands and remind him of his scheduling. Luckily as Glenne’s friend, you were in need of a job. You were fresh out of college as you had your bachelor’s in public relations, and being friends with someone who’s boyfriend is in the industry has its perks.
Glenne had immediately recommended you once Jeff mentioned that Harry was looking for an assistant, and since Jeff had met you a handful of times, he told Glenne to call you in for an interview, but somewhat knowing that he was going to hire you already since Harry desperately needed one and you were a friend.
When you walked into the interview, you were greeted by Jeff and Harry. That was your first time meeting Harry, and you were quite shocked that he was a real person. Of course you were a fan of him, and you were still surprised whenever Glenne talked about him, but when you saw him for the first time, you immediately thought that he was more gorgeous in reality.
“So nice to meet you,” Harry said, shaking your ring filled hand. The coolness of his metal rings met your shaky hands, and sparks had immediately shocked your body.
“Great to meet you too. I love your shirt,” you complimented. He was wearing a bright blue button down shirt with a cherry blossom print on it with a white t-shirt underneath along with some black skinny jeans and brown boots.
“Thank you. Your trousers are very nice,” he said back, looking down at your pants. You were wearing burnt orange corduroy pants with a white semi turtleneck blouse with a pussybow tie on it, along with some black booties. “Actually, I love your whole outfit,” he added, and you chuckled, trying to hide your blush.
Never in a million years would you have thought you would meet Harry, let alone Harry complimenting your entire outfit. You’re really living the dream.
The interview went extremely well and only lasted about thirty minutes. The first ten minutes were some generic interview questions because they still had to keep it professional, but the last twenty minutes consisted of asking about your interests and simply getting to know you because you would spend most of your time with Harry.
At the end of the interview, it was quite obvious Jeff and Harry knew they wanted to hire you. They loved your personality and how you made jokes, especially how you laughed at Harry’s jokes, which he thought was a very important aspect of being his assistant.
Jeff exited the room, telling you he would be right back, but really he went into his office to grab some paperwork for you to sign. That left you and Harry in the conference room alone as you made conversation with him about university. You also told him that you were a fan of his, which you thought was a mistake to tell him because you’re sure he doesn’t want a crazy fan to be his assistant and practically have access to his personal life, but he said gratefully said thank you, and asking if you had a favorite song off new released album. Your favorites off his album were ‘Only Angel’ and ‘From the Dining Table.’
“Good picks,” he teased.
“I would hope they’re good picks. It is your album,” you teased back, making him laugh, and he thought that it was a great choice making you his assistant.
Once Jeff was back, he opened a folder, taking out various paperwork before Harry broke the news and told you that he’d love for you to be his assistant. You hadn’t expected to be hired on the spot, or be hired in general, but there you were, reading over the contracts and signing your name at the bottom of the last page along with the date. Jeff and Harry both shook your hands, telling you that they were excited for you to be along with the ride, and you told them that you were excited as well.
You had thanked Glenne a million times for getting you an interview, and till this day, you always made sure to thank her because one mention of your name had gotten you an opportunity and a well paying job that you actually really loved.
Harry also made the job bearable; not truly treating you as only an assistant, but rather a friend who helps a lot. Throughout the years of knowing each other, you and Harry had grown quite close. With always being around him, it was like hanging out with him, and you were thankful for that because you were sure no other job would feel like this. Harry also doesn’t give you difficult tasks either. He just has you go on coffee runs or run to the store to grab him something, but the most work you’ve had to do for him was to call several people on his guest list for a party he was hosting last year or write out his whole schedule for the entirety of the year. But nothing strenuous that would leave you frustrated with him.
He would also make sure everything that he assigns you to do is okay for you to do, and you really appreciated that, but you would do anything for that man.
You stood in front of Harry’s door, setting your bags down onto the floor before you reached into your purse to grab your keys where a spare key to Harry’s place hung on the metal ring. Before your hand could even find them, the door swung open revealing Harry smiling at you, looking impeccably sharp in his suit, which caused your heart to flutter.
“Ah, thought I heard you. Here, let me help you,” he grabbed the shopping bags from the ground and the flowers from your hands, leaving you empty handed as you followed behind him into his home. “Thank you for getting these. I’ve just been so busy lately,” he thanked once again as he did on the phone.
“Yeah, I know. Afterall, I am your assistant,” you teased, and he laughed as he studied the bouquet.
“This is a lovely bouquet. Good pick,” he said, and your mind immediately goes back to when he said that to you for the first time at your interview. He said it quite often as you ultimately always make the decisions when he asks you to go out and grab something for him.
“I thought so too. Also,” you opened one of the shopping bags, taking out the garment bag before unzipping the entire thing, “I got the exact dress you asked for, and get this: it was the last one in her size. Lucky man, you are, Harry Styles,” you handed him the Yves Saint Laurent black dress so he could get a better look at it, and he held it up, smiling.
“It’s perfect. Thank you so much, angel,” he said, and you slightly blushed from the pet name that you would never get used to.
Harry started calling you ‘angel’ when you were two months into working for him. With all the work you do for him, the pet name had slipped out, but it stuck once he kept calling you that. You loved it--a lot, and you hoped that one day, he wouldn’t forget to call you that because you would miss the simple name coming out of his mouth very much. Plus, it was fitting because your favorite song of his is ‘Only Angel.’
“Are you excited for tonight?” You asked.
“Yeah, I am. It’s been a while since I’ve properly taken her out on a date, so I’m stoked for it. Pretty sure she is too.” Harry had a busy schedule. With being involved in interviews and promo for his upcoming tour, he was a busy man, which you knew of course. But it had affected his personal life greatly.
“Well, I’m happy if you are. I hope she loves the dress,” you said painfully.
“She will. She’s been talking about it for a while now. I just hope she didn’t go buying it without telling me because that would be really awkward once I tell her to go change into this,” he chuckled softly, and you joined him, agreeing. Harry quickly checked the time on his phone as it read 6:30 p.m, and he carefully placed the dress back into the garment bag and zipped it up. He grabbed the bouquet of flowers and his wallet on the counter. “I gotta go. Gonna be late if I don’t leave now. Lock up for me if you decide not to stay, yeah?” You nodded, walking him to the door as if it were your house. “Oh!” He turned back around because he had forgotten something, and you were holding up his keys already, and he chuckled. “Thanks again. You’re a lifesaver. Don’t know what I’d do without you,” he leaned in to give you a brief kiss to your cheek, which he has done often, and you waved at him.
“Have fun tonight! Call me if you need anything,” you called out from his front door and he waved the flowers as a sign of goodbye before getting into his car. You watched him reverse out of his driveway and drive off to his girlfriend’s house.
With a sigh, you closed the door, looking around at what needs to be done. Harry’s place was relatively clean. He just had some things laying around on random surfaces, and you think that was probably because he was in a hurry, so he just placed them on the nearest surface. If Harry were here, he would probably tell you that cleaning up his own mess was so unnecessary and that he doesn’t expect you to, but you know that he’s grateful you’re doing it anyways.
You were silent as you tidied up his house, putting things back in his closet, and washing the bowl of yogurt and fruit he eats in the morning. It was an unnerving silence, and you just wanted to make any kind of noise just to fill the quietness that was slowly eating you away. You grabbed one of his shirts off the ground that slipped off the hanger, and you brought it up to your nose. His scent filling your senses as you closed your eyes, taking his smell in. You inhaled enough to practically take away his entire scent that was left on his shirt to fill the satisfaction in your body as you pretended he was close.
As you did that, you uncontrollably sobbed into the material, letting out a heartbroken cry as you covered your face with his shirt. You slowly sank down to the floor, completely sitting down on the cold tiles. The sudden outbreak of your cries weren’t new; they had made their appearance when he left for dates or after he was done talking about someone he liked. When you would go out to the store and grab things he wants gifted. When he would call you angel while he was with the devil who was keeping you two apart.
Once you calmed down a bit, you thought about how hugging his shirt was the closest you would get to him as you wished you were the lucky person he would be greeting them with his presence and a pretty batch of flowers, but he doesn’t even know your favorite flower.
It was the next day, and you woke up in the comfort of your own bed.
You had taken an Uber home around ten p.m the night prior as you figured Harry was still on his date and perhaps wouldn’t be coming home till later. So, after watching a movie on his couch and having dinner, you turned off all of the lights and locked up as you headed to your place for what you hope is a relaxing night.
A weird feeling had taken over you as you got ready for bed and it felt strange. You knew you weren’t yourself, and you hated that. The outburst of your crying was long forgotten as you climbed into bed and slept the day away.
Once you had woken up from your deep slumber, your charged phone was ringing with your text tone. Groaning, you stretched your body from the tenseness from your sleep before you reached for your phone, unplugging the charger. You rubbed your eyes and blinked a bit as the brightness of your phone was straining to your vision. When your sight had cleared up, you were greeted with various messages from Jeff, asking if you had heard from Harry or if you’ve seen him. Going to Harry’s message, you hadn’t received anything, so you texted Jeff back and told him that he hadn’t contacted you and the last time you saw him was last night. Jeff immediately texted back, asking you if you could kindly go to his place and check if he was there, and you instantly said yes, a bit worried as Jeff seemed to be worried as well.
You got out of bed for the day, not wanting to leave, but knowing you had responsibilities, you got ready for the day, doing your normal hygienic routine.
It was Sunday, and usually on Sundays, you didn’t have much work to do since it was Harry’s day off as well. That is, if it’s not on tour, he gets a nice little day to himself. So, you chose a comfy outfit—one where you wouldn’t sweat so much as you walked to Harry’s house in the summer heat. You opted for a big t-shirt and pairing it with black biker shorts, and some sneakers. With one last look in the mirror, you were out the door and headed to Harry’s house.
The day was beautiful as the sun was out and the sky was blue. Rarely any clouds to overcast the sun, and there was a slight breeze in the air, making the walk more bearable so you wouldn’t sweat all that much.
Once you got to Harry’s house, fortunately, it wasn’t that far of a walk from where you live, you unlocked the door and walked in.
“Harry?” You called out, looking around the living area. His shoes that he normally wears out are by the couch, so he should be somewhere. He might still be asleep, you think. You walk up the stairs to his room, knocking lightly before entering. And what you saw was something you wanted to erase from your memory forever. “Oh, fuck! Sorry!” You immediately slammed the door as you stood still outside of his room, in disbelief of what you just saw.
You had just witnessed Brooke giving Harry head. They were both obviously naked, and her actions were on full display too because the bed faced the door and Brooke was on the side of Harry rather than in front of him as she had his dick down her throat, and of course, Harry had his head back, simply enjoying it because what guy wouldn’t.
You heard shuffling through the door, and that took you out of your spaced out mind; quickly walked down the stairs and to the kitchen, grabbing yourself a glass of water, feeling yourself get flustered from how bare Harry was in front of you.
“God, does she ever learn how to fucking knock?” You heard Brooke faintly say as they both walked down the stairs, most likely thinking you didn’t hear, but you definitely did as her voice echoed throughout the whole fucking house. “Hey, girl,” she smiled once they both made it to the kitchen, and it was the fakest smile you’ve ever seen. No wonder she’s a good actress, you think.
“Hi,” you said back, sipping your glass of water as you avoided eye contact with Harry.
“Hi. What are you doing here? Do I have to be somewhere today?” He greeted, but immediately asked questions as if you were invading his privacy and day off. You looked at him very briefly, but remained your sight on his marble counter.
“Uh, no. Jeff told me to come here and check on you; said that he hadn’t heard from you, so he was worried,” you explained, glancing up and Harry nodded.
“Oh, okay. The last time I talked to him was before I left, but I hadn’t checked my phone since. Was it anything urgent?” You shook your head, realizing Jeff never really explained why he needed Harry, but you brushed it off.
“He bought me this lovely bouquet of flowers and a pretty dress for dinner!” Yeah, I know. I was the one who got them, you thought. “Then he took me out on a boat ride, and we came back here-”
“Spare me the details? I already know all of this. I am his assistant afterall,” you said in a not so friendly tone, interrupting her and not wanting to know the details of what happens in his bedroom that entails Brooke. Usually, you weren’t so harsh to anyone, but you had a reason to be a bit stern with Brooke because she bites back. Unfortunately for her, you bite back even harder.
Harry and Brooke have been dating for what seems like forever, but it’s really only been about six months. You tried being nice to her--you really tried, giving her your patience, but every time you see her, she would act cold towards you. Of course not in front of Harry because he thinks she’s an absolute saint, but she was the complete opposite of that. She was the devil and you were the angel. But of course, Harry doesn’t see that.
Brooke gives you a harsh look, rolling her eyes a bit as Harry grabbed a glass of water for both of them. She turns to him, giving him a big smile before reaching up to kiss his lips, knowing exactly what she was doing in front of you. She then took a sip of her water, hugging Harry before she said, “I gotta go. Have a meeting at ten. I’ll call you?” Harry nodded, walking her to the front door, giving her one last kiss before she was off and Harry shut the door. You scoffed to yourself as you watched them, rolling your eyes in a way to attempt to hide your pain.
Harry walked back to the kitchen, leaning on the counter, matching your stance.
“I’m sorry you had to walk in on us-”
“Harry, it’s fine. I should’ve waited before I knocked,” you tried to get rid of the thought of seeing Brooke’s mouth on Harry. That was the first time you’ve walked in on him like that--fully bare on the bed while in action. Brooke was probably his first serious girlfriend in years, but he’s had some one night stands here and there, which he called you in the morning to pick him up. It wasn’t your preferred task to do because of the pain you would always feel when you would see him walk out of the house he just slept in, but then again, he is your boss.
It was a bit quiet between you two, and Harry thinks that it’s because you practically saw his dick on full display. Partially it was for that reason, but it was also the way Brooke would treat you almost every time she sees you. Harry thinks back to when Brooke was in the house, and he could practically feel the anger from you when she was there.
“You know, you could be a little nicer to her,” he stated, recalling what you said to Brooke and how you said it.
“Well, she could be nicer to me in general,” you raised your brows, waiting for what he has to say about that.
“She is nice to you. She always talks about wanting to invite you places, but she comes back sad because you’re always so quick to turn her down.”
“Brooke has never invited me anywhere. In fact, she’s never said a word to me unless you were there,” Except for that time a couple of months ago when you two had a little chat that ended up with you in tears at the end of the night. You laughed as you were in disbelief that she would actually lie to Harry that she actually wanted to be friends with you.
“What? No. She’s always talking about wanting to get to know you more, but you just shut her down,” Harry’s brows furrowed, and you laughed even more. “W-What’s so funny?”
“Harry, you would know if she would have talked to me because I would’ve told you, but your girlfriend has never mentioned anything other than…” you trailed off as you stopped laughing, not wanting to overstep or overshare some of things that Brooke has really said to you.
“Other than what?” He noticed that you cut yourself off.
“Maybe ask her if you wanna know. I gotta get going,” you said, brushing it off as if it didn’t matter to you as you avoided his suspicious eyes while you headed for the door. “Make sure to call Jeff too. Oh, uh,” you turned around to find him following you to the front door, “Did you need me to do anything for you while I’m here?” You asked, still knowing that he was your boss.
“Oh, hmm, no. Don’t think so. Enjoy your day,” he said, and you got off of his doorstep.
“Bye, H-,” you were interrupted by the sound of his door closing. You raised your brows in confusion as Harry never really interrupted you, especially not like that. He would usually wait for you to get in your car and pull out of the driveway, but he didn’t even wait for you whatsoever.
You tried not to make it a big deal because you figured he was frustrated and probably a bit pissed that you weren’t so nice to Brooke, but how could you cover up her lie like that especially if she was so mean to you? You grew some thick skin when you first started working for Harry, and that meant that you learned how to stand up for yourself no matter who is talking to you, not even Harry’s girlfriend.
You groaned; on the topic of Harry’s girlfriend: how could he possibly think she’s a nice person? She put up such an act in front of him, and whenever he’s not around, that act is the complete opposite.
When will he realize what’s right in front of him? That’s been right in front of him for years now. You were tired of meeting his new love interests and picking him up from other people’s houses when he could be at yours without worrying about going anywhere or leaving because the morning would be spent cuddling and making breakfast together. Oh, how you envied the people he got to hold onto tight and freely kiss as you wished for those lips to land on you as he called you angel.
The thought was driving you insane because you wouldn’t dare tell him whatsoever. Afterall, he was your boss and it would be awkward if he didn’t feel the same way. But you think he would never see you in that way, so you keep your mouth shut and hold your heart close as you just go with the flow despite the pain you feel.
20 December 2017
Harry was laying on his back breathless as Brooke collapsed right next to him, deeply sighing as she tried catching her breath.
“How does it get better every single time?” She giggled as she was in a post orgasmic state. She shifted so she was laying into Harry’s side, cuddling him as he wrapped his arm around her. He smiled, kissing the top of her head. Brooke’s hand roamed his chest as it was her way of showing that she would like to go for another round.
She started kissing his chest and his neck, and Harry wasn’t opposed to the idea, but the sound of his phone vibrating on his bedside table had killed the mood.
“Don’t answer it, please. Want you again,” she sat up slightly and buried her head more into his neck as she kissed and sucked his skin. He was so close to listening to her, trying to block out the sound of his phone, but as it kept vibrating, he realized he couldn’t ignore it.
“M’sorry,” he sat up causing Brooke to pull away as she groaned, laying on her side of the bed. Harry picked up his phone and Brooke had a little peek at who was texting him. He had changed your contact name from your name to your nickname ever since he started calling you ‘angel,’ and it’s been the same ever since. He loved it; it added a little flare and he would always smile when he sees your contact name pop up on his phone.
“Does she always have to make an appearance at the worst times? Or in general?” She asked, but the last part was definitely muttered under her breath as Harry was too focused on reading your texts. Harry had sent out a text a few hours after you left on Sunday, saying that he was sorry for being rude and practically slamming the door on you. You had texted back saying that it was okay, and that you were sorry for being rude to him too. There were no rude remarks towards him, but your tone had said otherwise, and you knew that you could’ve handled that conversation better.
My Angel: Hi, H. I was wondering if you wanted to do some suit fittings before you leave to go back home or after? Let me know so I can tell Lambert and Harris.
“Sorry. She’s just wondering if I’m available to do some suit fittings for the upcoming tour,” he said to Brooke before texting you back.
H: Preferably after the holidays. We’ll do it right at the beginning of January.
“Isn’t she your assistant? Why doesn’t she just schedule it already?” She asked cluelessly.
It wasn’t like Brooke was stupid. No, she was smart. But there were some things that didn't click for her, which makes Harry and anyone have to explain things twice. She would usually have her assistant do everything for her without confirmation, and Brooke would just go with it.
“Well, I still have to approve of it, love. Can’t just book me without me knowing,” he chuckled slightly.
My Angel: Okay, perfect. I scheduled the fitting for January 4th. That’s okay right? I know you’ll be back before New Years, so I just wanna make sure.
He always loved how you were so cautious about everything. Sure, he wanted you to let loose sometimes and not take everything so seriously, but you two were a perfect team because you need to keep him in check sometimes, but you did let loose and have fun off the clock.
H: Yeah, should be good. Thank you, angel. xx
My Angel: That’s what I’m here for! You don’t have anything scheduled for tomorrow before you leave. Do you wanna get some coffee before your flight? Say at 8?
He smiled down at your text. Brooke noticed, which made her furrow her eyebrows in confusion, so she started rubbing his back and his stomach as she tried getting a look at his text messages. Once she saw a bit of it, she climbed on Harry’s lap.
“Do you want to get lunch tomorrow before you leave? I’m gonna miss you,” she pouted slightly, and Harry had only glanced up at her very briefly before looking back down at his phone as he was in the middle of responding to your question.
H: Sure! That’d be great. The usual spot?
My Angel: Yes, the usual :) see you then, H!
He grinned before locking his phone and placing it back on the bedside table. He looked up at Brooke who was impatiently waiting for him to give her attention as she had her arms crossed.
“Well?”
“Oh, sorry I’m actually getting coffee with Y/N,” he frowned slightly, somewhat feeling bad rejecting her offer.
“You don’t wanna see me before you leave?” She asked in an annoyed tone, getting off his lap to sit beside him on the bed.
“W-What?” He said in disbelief. “You’ve been sleeping over since Saturday. That’s why we planned for you to stay here until I leave right?” He stated obviously. They clearly talked about her sleeping over after their date on Saturday until he leaves to go back home for the holidays. So, he’s wondering if she’s missed something or she’s just acting like this to get a rise out of him.
“You think four days is enough? You’re gonna be gone for two weeks until I have to see you again, and you would rather spend your time-”
“Four days is a really long time! And I’m seeing you for New Years. I don’t understand where this is coming from,” Harry got off the bed and pulled on his boxers.
“I’m just saying…she’s already your assistant. Why do you have to spend so much time with her?” Brooke asked as she got under the covers as she watched Harry pull on his sweatpants.
“She’s also my best friend. Where is all of this coming from? Are you jealous or what?” She scoffed, rolling her eyes, and Harry furrowed his brows.
“Please. Like I could ever be jealous of her. All I’m saying is that I just want to spend all the time I can get before you leave, or I can go with you back home…” she suggested, and Harry perked up.
“What? You want to come with me?” She nodded eagerly as she smiled.
“Yeah, why not? We can spend the holidays together, and it’ll be fun. What do you say?” She crawled over to the edge of the bed where Harry was standing, and she sat on her knees as she looked up.
They’ve been dating for six months, and Harry hadn’t introduced her to his family. It wasn’t like he didn’t like her or he was embarrassed that he’s dating her, but that was a really big commitment that needed a lot of thought put into it. Meeting the family is just a big step for him, and although his family has met his previous partners, that was when they were still friends and not together. But with Brooke, it all happened so fast that his family had never met her when they were friends or hooking up. They obviously know he’s dating someone, but to bring them home? Especially on Christmas? He wasn’t ready for that.
“Maybe some other time. I’ll talk to them to see if they want to come over here for my birthday or something,” he rejected her suggestion. Home was just something so vulnerable to him that he wouldn’t just bring anyone.
Brooke sighed deeply, “Okay, I’ll hold you to that,” she said, impatient that she hasn’t met his family yet, but he’s met hers. “How about I come with you tomorrow morning to get coffee?” She looked at him as she pleaded with her eyes.
He knew that you wanted to spend time with him before the holidays and he wanted to as well. But Brooke obviously wanted to see you as much as possible now that he’s denied her suggestion of coming home with him, but she had been sleeping over for the past four days, which Harry thinks is enough time.
“I’m sorry, but no,” he said as it came out more like a question as he didn’t want to seem rude by saying no to her. Throughout the months of dating Brooke, he learned that she hates when people say no. Obviously, it’s fine when he says no to sex, but he could tell that it really frustrates her. “I haven’t seen her in a few days because I’ve been with you the whole time, so I think it’ll be good to catch up with her before I leave,” he smiled lightly, trying to make light of the room.
“Sure. Have fun,” she said sarcastically before heading to the restroom.
Harry sighed, grabbing his duffel bag from the closet before he started packing. He was simply just excited to see you tomorrow and his family over the holidays.
21 December 2017
You waved over at Harry once you saw him standing at the entrance of the coffee shop. Harry walked over to you with a beaming grin as he looked incredibly handsome. He wore black circular sunglasses that sat on his nose, a blue hawaiian shirt with a gray t-shirt underneath as a brown coat was thrown over his body. He wore his famous black skinny jeans and his famous brown Yves Saint Laurent boots that you know he has a whole collection of. His hair looked amazing as he recently cut it a week ago, and it’s starting to grow out a bit as the ends of his hair started to curl.
As he was close enough, you snapped yourself out of your trance of checking him out before you stood up, giving each other a hug and a cheek to cheek kiss.
“How are you, angel?” He asked, taking his coat off before taking a seat, and setting his coat down on the chair next to him.
“I’m good. I hope you don’t mind, but I went ahead and ordered for us. Should be out soon.” You had gotten Harry an iced black coffee, and despite the weather, he was always up for an iced beverage, especially when it came to his coffee; and you had ordered him a coffee cake--the coffee house’s specialty.
“Of course not. Thank you. So, you’re going back home right?” He asked, placing his arms on the table. Right as he asked, the drinks and food had arrived and you waited for the barista to leave before you answered.
“I might,” you said, taking a sip from the coffee mug.
“What do you mean you might? Told me that you were going,” he furrowed his brows in confusion because you two had just had this conversation the other week, and you were excited to go back home.
Home was in Oregon for you, and you moved out when you were eighteen to go to school in New York. It had always been your dream of moving to the big city, and although you loved Oregon, New York had made space for you to have a home as well.
“I mean, I was. But you know how I’m saving to buy a house right? Well, flights are expensive, especially when it’s around this time,” you explained.
“I can always-”
“No, no. Before you go saying that you’re going to buy me a ticket, don’t even waste your breath because I’m not taking it,” you shook your head, and Harry chuckled.
“C’mon, please? I know how excited you were to go back home. Don’t want you to be alone during the holidays,” he pouted as he cut into his coffee cake.
“I told mom the situation, so they might come here for a change, but not definite yet--was just a suggestion. But honestly, I don’t think they will because it might be too late and all that, y’know how they are,” you chuckled, knowing how late your family will be if things happen last minute. “Don’t worry though. Glenne asked if I could take care of Penny, and I said yes if I’m not going home,” you said, smiling at the thought of the shih tzu that Glenne and Jeff own.
“I mean, you can always come home with me,” he put it out there, and your eyes perked up.
“W-What? No. I can’t do that.”
“Why not? It’s not like I would be buying you a plane ticket either. We’ll be using the jet,” he smiled lightly as if there were no meaning behind his words.
“God, you just don’t know how rich you are--saying shit about your own fucking jet,” you teased, and he laughed loudly.
“But really. Think about it. Mum would love to see you again and I know Gems has so much to catch you up on,” he said, taking a sip from his straw.
You had met Anne and Gemma several times as they often visited sometimes or you would fly home with Harry and hang out with them while he’s working. They were a lovely family, if not, your second family, you would say. They were the kindest people you’ve ever met, and you’re so grateful that Harry was raised by great people surrounding him.
“Really, H. Thank you, but I’m going to pass that up. I’ll probably just suck it up and buy a plane ticket,” you scoffed slightly at your indecisiveness.
“Alright. Well, if you change your mind, which you have practically a day to figure it out, let me know and I’ll see what I could do with the jet going back here,” he said with a smile, wanting you to have choices rather than being stuck at home all alone during the holidays.
“Thank you, Harry. I appreciate it.”
The rest of the hours spent at the coffee spot was filled with conversation and laughter. Luckily, Brooke wasn’t one of the topics during your time together, and you were glad for it. Harry was also happy you didn’t mention Brooke either because he just wanted his mind to rest during his vacation, and not to say that he doesn’t like her, but it can be a bit stressful to communicate things with sometimes.
“Oh, you have to head to the airport already,” you said, looking at your phone and realizing that he has about two hours to head to the airport. “Do you have everything packed?” You asked as you two stood up from your seats and put your coats on. Harry put on his sunglasses, hopefully a way to avoid the curious eye of the public. Luckily when you two were having coffee, no one approached him, but there were some looks made towards you two, but none of them walked up to the table.
“Yeah, you have my shirts right?”
“Yup. They’re in my car.” Once you two made it outside, you were parked on the curb and Harry’s car was about three cars behind you. You took Harry’s shirts out from the backseat that were folded very nicely and ironed. You had borrowed a couple of shirts from him when you would sleepover and had forgotten to give them back to him, but Harry said it was fine for you to keep until he needed them. “Alright, here you go. Don’t need anything else before you leave right?”
“Actually, if you’re not busy doing anything, do you want to drop me off at the airport? I can call ahead of time and tell them that my driver isn’t going to take me, so we have access to the back,” he said with hopeful eyes.
“Oh okay, sure,” you smiled softly.
“Great,” he gave you a big smile before looking down at his phone, and you assumed he was texting Kyle, his driver, that he didn’t need to pick him up anymore. “Okay, I’ll see you at my place? I just have to get my shit.”
“Okay, race you there! Wait, no, just kidding. Really, drive safe,” you chuckled, and Harry laughed.
You met Harry at his house which was only about ten minutes from the coffee shop. His car was already in the driveway when you had pulled up, and you just decided to wait outside by your car for him, popping open the trunk. A few minutes later, Harry came out with his duffel bag, locking the door behind him.
He put his stuff in the trunk before hopping into the passenger seat of your car, and you were off to the airport.
Traffic was a bit heavy, but you made it just in time for Harry to check in and get settled without having to worry if he was late or not. You had pulled into an underground garage of the airport, and got out of the car as Harry got his stuff out from the trunk.
“Guess I’ll see you on New Years?” You stood in front of Harry behind your car. He nodded before taking you into your arms.
“Yeah, I’ll see you then. Let me know if you’re going back home or if you decide to join us,” he said into your ear as he hugged you tightly around your waist. Your arms were looped around his shoulders, giving him a warm squeeze.
“I will. Have a safe flight, and text me when you land,” you said back into his ear.
“Always do.”
Both of you pulled away, but his touch had still lingered on your arm; raking his hand slowly down your arm as he walked away, and you had wished you weren’t wearing a coat with many layers underneath just so you could feel his hand on your bare skin.
“Don’t miss me too much,” you teased. Harry turned around and smirked; the one that made your stomach do flips.
“You know I will. Gonna miss me too?” He asked in return.
“Always do, H. Always do,” you blew a kiss at him, and he caught it, placing his hand on his heart before walking through the doors.
You sighed as you got into your car before pulling out of the garage and driving back home.
It may seem a little peculiar on how you two ask towards one another despite him having a girlfriend, but it’s always been like that between you two. It all started when you were at a party right beside Harry, and a few friends of his went up to you two and asked when you two were going to get together. At that time, your heart stopped because you had just figured out that you had feelings for him. But Harry responded with “until she lets me,” and it was meant to tease you, but it had left you in confusion.
Since then, you two would tease each other and somewhat act like you were together, but it had died down a tad bit ever since he’s gotten a girlfriend. And although Harry is a natural charmer, you two were best friends, so there was a tad bit platonic flirting between you two.
But you wished that he would see past the best friend line and assistant line.
31 December 2017
The cold air from the room had made goosebumps rise onto your skin, although it seemed warm in the room from the crowd that was gathering rather quickly while the music started becoming louder, and chatter and laughs filled the room.
You were talking with Glenne and observing the people around you at the same time; everyone was wearing their best attire for the new year, and you were as well. You were wearing a red silk dress that hugged you just right as the material in the back dropped to your mid back, showing almost the entirety of your back. You wore nude four inch heels, feeling like the height of your shoe was enough so you weren’t completely struggling to walk throughout the night. And your makeup was sparkling with gold colored eyeshadow and a red lip. You looked hot, and you knew it.
One of Jeff’s friends had booked a hotel room on the top floor, literally right next to the ball drop, so everyone can just look out the window rather than going outside in the freezing weather.
It was nice to dress up after being cozied up throughout Christmas. You had decided to go back home after all, buying your plane ticket right when you got home from dropping Harry off at the airport. It was a bit pricey because of the fact that you were buying the ticket a day before the scheduled time the flight is supposed to take off, and considering that it was the holiday season as well. But you had gotten a Christmas bonus unexpectedly, and everything worked out.
You enjoyed your time with your family and getting to spend a week with them before you had to leave for New York again for New Years.
You also hadn’t expected to receive a gift from Harry on Christmas morning when your mom was passing gifts out. With a confused expression, you took the big box from your mom’s hands that was wrapped in red and white festive wrapping paper with a bow on it. Once you opened it, you had softly gasped when you saw the items inside; it was all of your favorite things, including some extra items Harry had picked out for himself. He had gotten you a much bigger planner, for the next year, that will help for work, and you smiled, knowing that he had remembered you talking about how much you wanted the planner so badly. The box also contained some of your favorite snacks, little Knick knacks that reminded him of you, and a velvet rectangle box that held a small diamond pendant attached to a thin gold chain.
It was absolutely stunning, and Harry must’ve spent a lot on it, but he didn’t mind. He thought it was going to look so beautiful on you, and it made you feel special that you were wearing something so meaningful from someone that means so much to you.
The gold chain sat perfectly on your collarbones, and you hadn’t taken it off ever since you received it; only when you showered, but you put it right back on after.
The volume of the room had increased, and you turned your head towards the door and found Harry walking in with a bright smile on his face, and of course, Brooke right alongside him with her arm looped with his.
They looked absolutely stunning together as they walked inside the building as they greeted everyone with big smiles. They radiated perfection and luxury as everyone’s eyes were on them as if they were a piece of art hung up high in the gallery--worthy enough to be looked at. But your eyes were placed on one person in the room, and you so wished you were right beside him instead of her.
The couple had made their way through the crowd when Harry spotted Jeff in the corner. With Harry leading the two of them with their hands interlocked together, they greeted Jeff and Glenne before Harry let go of Brooke’s hand to give you a hug.
“Hey, angel,” he smiled, wrapping his arms around your waist as he slightly picked you up off the ground. His hands met the exposed skin of your back and he felt goosebumps rise onto your skin as his cool metal rings touched your skin.
“Hi, H. How are you?” You asked against his ear and he set you down on your feet before pulling away.
“Good, good. Missed you.”
You blushed, “Miss you too. Also, thank you again for your present, it was so thoughtful and lovely.”
“I’m so happy you liked it. Thank you for yours as well. I love it a lot,” he beamed as he looked down at you. You had given Harry three presents. The first one being a black soft leather journal with his initials engraved in the middle and spine of the journal in gold. The second gift was a manicure set because he recently started to paint his nails, so you wanted him to have all the tools and colors he needed. The third gift was a photo album of his success (you also threw in a couple of you and him). You told him that he can look at it anytime he wants, but it’s just a reminder of how proud you are of him and how far he’s gone; and you would be adding more in the future. It had made him tear up a bit as he found the gifts to be so sweet and sentimental of you.
“Hi, Brooke,” you greeted with a small smile, and you saw her face beam as she hugged you, but you knew that it was definitely a fake one to put up an act in front of her boyfriend.
“How are you, girl?! I feel like I haven’t seen you in forever!” She yelled over the loud music.
“Good, thanks. How are you?”
“Great! Did you see what Harry got me for Christmas?” She waved her arm out to show you the diamond bracelet that sat on her wrist. It was very beautiful, you had to admit. It was very Brooke, and you were glad Harry didn’t ask you for any help with trying to find her a Christmas present.
“I’m gonna get another drink,” you excused yourself, not really wanting to be around her much longer as she smirked and tried to flaunt her gift in your face. But you didn’t let it get to you because you truly loved the gifts Harry had gotten you, and it made it extra special because he put so much thought into it.
You made your way to the bar, downing the remains of your drink before asking the cute bartender for another one.
“Having fun?” He asked with a smile as he set your drink down onto a black square napkin.
“Sure, let’s just say that,” you chuckled sarcastically before throwing your head back to take the entire cup of alcohol down your throat.
“Thanks,” you set the glass down before walking away.
You wanted to go back to where Glenne was standing, but you had bumped into some friends that you had met through Jeff on your way, so you had to catch up with them and tell them everything that’s going on with you after they told you their whole life story.
The hours to the new year went by pretty quickly. You ended up hanging out with a few friends and going outside with them to have a smoke. The alcohol and weed had eased you, and you actually had a really fun time with them. The idea of Brooke clinging onto Harry had left your mind and you loosened up, smiling and dancing along with drinking.
There were five minutes left until midnight, and everyone was gathered next to the window that overlooked Times Square. The volume in the room was loud as everyone screamed and laughed—excited for the new year.
You were standing next to Harry, and of course Brooke on the other side of him. Glenne and Jeff were on the left of Brooke, and both of the couples had their arms around each other as the only thing you were holding was a glass of tequila as you didn’t have anyone to celebrate the new year with.
“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six!” Everyone chanted, and you chuckled, laughing at your loneliness when there were so many people around you. Your eyes watered up, crossing your arms as you looked at the shining lights through the window.
“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! Happy New Year!” The sounds of cheers and party horns erupted in the room as people took each other against their lips.
You slightly glanced right next to you and saw Harry and Brooke kissing lovingly as she smiled into the kiss, along with Jeff and Glenne.
You turned away, looking out at the window as you raised your glass. “Cheers,” you whispered to yourself before throwing your head back and consuming your tequila shot.
Everyone was so consumed in one another that nobody noticed the tears streaming down your face as the loneliness you had felt physically and mentally took over.
4 January 2018
Harry was standing on the elevated box in front of a mirror. He was wearing a sparkly pink suit with gold lining on the seams, along with a gold shirt with a pussybow. Harry Lambert was behind up, straightening out the jacket.
You had sat on the couch of the large private dressing room as you observed. Harry looked at you through the mirror, giving you no emotion. You smiled, but he didn’t smile back; only looking away and taking his attention on the suit. You furrowed your brow, confused as to why he was looking at you like that and so coldly.
You stood up, walking over to him. “It looks great, H.”
“Thanks,” he said quickly.
“Think you can dance in it?” You teased as you smirked, trying to add some sort of lightness to see if his cold looks were accidental.
“Pretty sure,” his tone was very short, and your smirk fell.
“Wait right here. Just need to get something really quick for the pants,” Harry Lambert said before walking out of the dressing room.
There was a moment of silence, and Harry pulled on the suit jacket so it sits nicely on him. By this point, he would’ve asked for your opinion and for some reassurance because sometimes he needs those extra words that tell him it doesn’t look too much or weird on him. But you got silence.
“Is everything okay?” You asked warily.
“Yeah.”
“You sure?” You still weren’t convinced enough.
“Yes, now can you please stop asking me? Fuck,” He rolled his eyes, voice slightly raised.
“What is your problem?” Your brows furrowed.
“What my problem is, is that you won’t leave me the fuck alone nor would you stop talking. I’m just trying to do some fittings, but you wouldn’t stop talking,” he huffed. He didn’t even turn around, just kept looking at himself in the mirror.
You scoffed, grabbing your bag from off the couch. “Don’t fucking ask me to come with you if you didn’t want me here.” You headed for the exit before turning around at the last second. “And next time, look me in the eye and tell me that shit,” you said before you completely exit the building and head towards your apartment.
You’ve never been so annoyed before, and that says a lot because you deal with a lot of people from the industry and Brooke. You didn’t know what came over him because he’s never talked to you like that nor has he raised his voice at you. With utter confusion, you sat on your couch, taking off your shoes for the day since you didn’t have any other work to do for the day, and you thought going with him to his fitting was a waste of time if he was going to act all pissy on you.
Only moments later, you heard a knock on your door, and you immediately knew it was Harry probably coming by to tell you that he was sorry and he didn’t mean to say those words. But words are words and despite not meaning to say them, they still came out meaning that he was thinking it. But since this was Harry, the kindest human you’ve ever met, you opened the door because he’s your best friend and you deserve an apology.
Huffing, you opened the door to find Harry standing on your doorstep with his head down and a slight frown to his face. Without saying anything, you moved to the side, opening the door wider for him to walk through, which he does. You walk over to the couch and take a seat; Harry sitting on the other side. The fact that you weren’t saying anything was killing him, but he doesn’t blame you. You crossed your arms as you waited for him to say something, and he inhaled deeply before he spoke.
“I’m sorry for what I said back there. I shouldn’t have taken all my anger out on you because you don’t deserve that whatsoever. You were just trying to make sure I was okay, and I really appreciate that,” he resented himself for acting that way towards you. His eyes were red and he looked quite sad, and you want to know what made him originally feel this way.
“Why were you so mad to begin with?” You asked curiously, and he sighed as you brushed away his apology.
“Brooke and I have been fighting--ever since New Years. She claimed that I was always hanging out with you and that I left her at the party to be with you, but that’s not true right? I feel like I barely saw you during the party,” his brows furrowed in confusion. He was right; you barely even hung out with him during New Years because you were some other friends, and the only time you really spoke to him was when he arrived and after the countdown, but that was it.
“Why is she so…” you trailed off, not wanting to sound so offensive towards his girlfriend.
“You can say it.”
“Possessive? Obsessive? Threatened by me? I mean I get that you’re her boyfriend, but I haven’t done anything to trigger that, have I?” You tilted your head as if you were thinking. You were never the one to steal someone’s boyfriend because that wasn’t any of your business; no matter how much you liked that person. But your attitude towards Harry was very much best friend-like. You miss him on days when you don’t see him, you give him big hugs when you reunite, you give each other friendly kisses on the cheek in a way to say ‘thanks,’ but it was never meant to steal him away from her.
“No, you haven’t. I don’t know… I feel like she’s always had this problem with you because you’re my best friend, but also assistant--the closest person to me. I always tell her that she has nothing to worry about, but she doesn’t trust me for some reason.”
“I’m sorry, H,” you said, placing your hand on his knee in a way to comfort him. He placed his hand right over yours in a way to say ‘thank you for understanding.’
“I should be the one apologizing. You didn’t do anything wrong. I really am sorry for how coldly I acted towards you,” he softly smiled, and you gave him one back.
“It’s okay. Was it unnecessary? Yes. But it was one time,” you forgave him.
“You’re the best. But I should get going to finish up the fittings,” he said, standing up from the couch. You stood up, walking him to the door. “I’ll see you?” You nodded, giving him a big hug. He embraced you with both arms as he squeezed tightly before he walked out the door. You figured there was no point in going with him since he only has a couple of suits to try on, so you stayed back.
About thirty minutes later, your phone vibrated. Seeing Harry’s contact name, you smiled to yourself.
H: Attachment: 2 images
How do these look?
You chuckled. He had sent you mirror pictures, holding up a peace sign as he was in a sparkly blue suit.
My Angel: You look like Cinderella lmao
I love it!
Harry smiled. He was about to text you some silly joke about being Prince Charming while you’re the princess, but he heard a voice at the door, making him stop what he was doing.
“Hey, babe!” Harry looked up and saw Brooke walk in. His eyes widened as he turned around, and she gave him a kiss.
“W-What are you doing here?” He asked, confused.
“Jeff said you’d be here, so I decided to surprise you!” She said cheerfully, holding his hands.
“O-Oh, I’m very surprised,” he chuckled nervously. He didn’t really know why he was nervous, but possibly the fact that if he hadn’t snapped at you, then you would still be in the room, which would have raised questions and yet another argument with Brooke.
“I figured after you’re finished, we could get an early dinner and you could come back to my place?” She suggested. “Think we need to talk about some things.”
“Yeah, that sounds good. I have about two more suits, so you can wait outside-”
“Silly! No, I’ll wait here,” she took a seat on the couch you were just sitting on thirty minutes ago. He nodded without saying anything before he proceeded on to his next suit.
You looked down at your phone on Harry’s message thread, waiting for his reply. You saw the text bubbles pop up and you smiled, waiting for him to say some corny joke, but they went away. You waited for a moment, so they could pop back up, but they didn’t. So, you shrugged, locking your phone, and wondering if he got caught up in something, so he couldn’t reply.
1 February 2018
It was Harry’s birthday and the crowd was rolling in.
He decided he wanted to spend his birthday in Los Angeles since most of his friends are there anyways. Plus, it’s a small get together before the tour starts next month and then he would be all over the place. He wanted a semi small party at his house, nothing too crazy, he just wanted everyone he cares about at the party. Anne and Gemma flew in the day before to join in on the fun, and you were excited to see them because you missed them like crazy.
“Angel! This party is great! Thank you for keeping it so nice and small,” Harry said, giving you a hug. He also handed you your favorite drink, which is a whiskey on the rocks.
“I’m happy you like it, birthday boy,” you smiled as you watched everyone gather into his Malibu house. There were about thirty people in total that were on the guest list, only adding people Harry was close to.
“Ah, there’s mum and Gem. Let’s say hi,” he told you, and you excitedly smiled, walking towards the door.
“Mum!” Harry called out, and Anne’s eyes lightened up.
“Oh, my baby! Happy birthday, my love,” she kissed his cheeks as he hugged her.
“Hi, Gems,” he greeted his sister, also giving her a hug.
“Happy birthday baby brother. One more year and you’ll be a quarter of a century,” she joked, and Harry chuckled.
“Ha ha, very funny. I’m so happy you guys are-”
“Y/N? Is that you? Oh my god, come here you!” Anne interrupted Harry once she saw you. Her eyes widened and she was smiling like crazy as you walked towards her, giving her a lovely hug. “Oh, darling. It’s been a while since I saw you!”
“Yeah, it really has been. You both still look so amazing,” you said, giving Gemma a hug.
“Please, you’re too sweet to us. How have you been? Don’t want to quit just yet because of this one?” Anne joked, nudging Harry as he playfully rolled his eyes.
“Heyyy,” his brows furrowed, and Anne pinched his cheek.
“I’ve been good. And not yet. Give me about five months and we’ll get back to this conversation,” you joked back, looking at Harry to see him frowning. You looped your arm around his waist, giving him a hug, and he stopped frowning; his face turning into a small smirk.
“Let’s definitely catch up later. I’m going to say hi to Jeff and Glenne. Be right back,” Anne said before walking through the crowd, Gemma following her.
You and Harry were alone again as you two sipped on your drinks. Some people said hi to them, but not making conversation for too long as they wanted to get another drink or food.
“Is Brooke here? Haven’t seen her,” you asked curiously. Harry’s face dropped, and you looked at him confusingly.
“Oh, fuck,” he pinched the top of his nose as he looked down, shaking his head.
“What?”
“I totally forgot she was coming,” he said, and you fought the urge to laugh.
“How did you forget your own girlfriend?”
“I don’t know--I was just so focused on the tour and this party that it slipped my mind that she was coming,” he sighed.
“Oh okay. What’s so bad about her being here?” You wondered.
“That means she’s gonna meet mum and Gem.” Your mouth formed an ‘o’ as if realization struck you, and Harry nodded his head as if he was saying ‘yeah, that’s why.’
“Better prepare for that because I could already hear her laugh,” you placed your hand on his shoulder, patting it. Harry took a deep breath and downed the rest of his drink before he walked over to the entrance. You chuckled as he did so as you found it amusing that he had to do that to deal with her.
After you heard her squeal, which meant that Harry had gone up to her already. You started walking towards the entrance door, and you saw them hugging; she then started jumping and kissing him, whispering into his ear and biting her lip as he gave her a smirk.
As you watched from the sidelines, your heart started to ache. You wished that it was you instead of her. You wished you could whisper all things sweet and dirty into his ear as he looked at you with a smirk before biting his lip. You wanted him to give you the same smile he gave her, although you were starting to see less and less of that smile. You wanted what she had.
But you would never get that.
“Hey, you,” Gemma sneaked you from behind you, causing you to slightly jump. “Sorry,” she chuckled.
“It’s okay. What’s up?” You smiled, trying to hide the pain in your eyes.
“You’re not going to tell him, huh?”
“Tell who what?” You raised your eyebrows, pretending to be oblivious. Gemma gave you a knowing look as she raised her eyebrows.
“You know what. Not gonna tell him at all?” You sighed, shrugging your shoulders as you turned your head back to them. They were posing for some pictures with their arms around each other’s waists. They took a couple: smiling ones, funny ones, and even a kissing one. You turned your head back to Gemma once they started to kiss for a picture, and she softly smiled at you.
“There’s no point. He’s with Brooke, and it’s not like he’s ever going to like me or get with me,” you sadly explained. Gemma looked at you as if you were totally wrong. “If he’s happy with Brooke, then why would I ruin that for him because of my selfish reasons?”
“It’s not selfish for wanting to tell someone you love-”
“I don’t love him,” you immediately interrupted.
“Y/N…c’mon,” she raised her eyebrows, knowing you’re completely wrong.
“Okay…” you sighed in defeat, and she chuckled, continuing what she was saying.
“You’ve known him for what, two years? That man makes sure you’re a priority. He makes sure you’re happy. If you could hear the stories he tells us and how he talks about you, you would think otherwise,” she stated before taking a sip of her drink.
You stay quiet for a moment and think. Was there any way that Harry could have possibly liked you? There’s no way. You hadn’t noticed anything different about his behavior in the past two years you’ve known and worked for him. So, there was no way he could’ve liked you. And you know you’re only telling yourself that now, so you don’t lose your shit at his birthday party.
“W-What does he say about me?”
“Maybe you’ll know some time in the future if you tell him,” she challenged, and you rolled your eyes, causing Gemma to laugh.
After Harry and Brooke managed to get away from the entrance, you and Gemma saw them walking towards you both.
“Y/N, hi!” She greeted you with a not so surprising high pitched tone; only because Harry is right next to her. She also gave you a hug, which you only put in half the effort like always. Harry smiled at both of you, and she let go.
“Gems, where’s mum?” He asked his sister.
“Think she might be in the back,” she replied, looking at Brooke for a brief moment before looking back at Harry.
“This is Brooke,” he introduced his girlfriend.
“Hi! It’s so nice to finally meet you,” Brooke said with a big smile on her face, giving Gemma a hug. Polite as Gemma is, she hugged back.
“You too,” Gemma simply said.
“Should we go to the back and find mum? Brooke wants to meet her,” Harry asked, and Gemma nodded before walking towards the backyard.
You stayed back, realizing that you weren’t needed and you didn’t have any business following them for Brooke to meet Anne. So, you walked over to the kitchen to grab a plate of cheese and crackers. Since the kitchen was right next to the large doors that led to the backyard, you looked up and saw Brooke jumping up and down slightly as she greeted Anne with a hug. You saw Anne smiling, hugging her back before they pulled away and started talking. Harry looked at them so fondly as they spoke.
“Hey,” a voice next to you had startled you, making you slightly jump, taking your attention away from what’s happening in the backyard. Luckily, not dropping any of your food.
“Hi,” you said back to the man you don’t know.
“I’m Alex. One of Jeff’s friends. I don’t believe we’ve met yet,” he shook your hand, smiling.
“I don’t think we have. I’m Y/N,” you nicely said back.
“So, how do you know Harry?” He asked, grabbing a grape.
“I’m his assistant, and best friend.”
“Oh, shit! Special person I’m talking to, right here,” he smirked. Alex was cute and very attractive, but it wasn’t the same kind of smirk that you’ve been in love with for two years.
“Hardly,” you scoffed before giving him a small smile as a way to tell him you’re somewhat joking.
“Hey, don’t sell yourself short. By any chance, you want to go somewhere to sit and talk?” He proposed hopefully. It wasn’t a bad idea whatsoever. You needed to make new friends and possibly make some new connections. You also didn’t want to depend on Harry all the time when you wanted to talk to someone because he’s busy, and his girlfriend doesn’t like you. So, you nodded.
“Yeah, I’d like that.” He smiled, leading you to a more quiet area of the house, which was the sitting area.
Meanwhile as you were chatting with Alex, Harry watched Brooke interact with Anne with a smile, but he still felt a weird feeling in his chest, like he’s happy about it, but he’s still wary. He brushed that feeling off, looking around and wondering where you were--if you’re having a great time. He turned his head towards the kitchen, and saw you talking to Alex. Smiles were placed on both your faces, and Harry frowned. He knew Alex was charming him up because that’s what he does. Alex technically wasn’t a bad guy, and Harry’s known him for a few years. He was nice, attractive, and can charm the shit out of someone just like Harry. But the sight and thought of seeing him actually charm you did not sit well with him. It really didn’t sit well once he saw you following him out of the kitchen.
Harry took deep breaths, trying not to let the thought of you possibly enjoying hanging out with Alex as he carried on with his birthday night.
6 February 2018
A deep sigh was let out once you sat in your seat on the plane.
It was cold in Los Angeles and you knew the flight back to New York was going to be a bumpy one considering the weather in both cities, so you dressed comfortably, wearing grey sweatpants, a black sweatshirt, and some white sneakers. Your headphones had been plugged into your ears ever since you were cleared at TSA.
As you got comfortable in your seat, Harry sat next to you, sighing. You obviously didn’t hear it because your headphones were in, but you definitely heard it the second time when he did it louder. You didn’t do anything, just browse on your phone until he dramatically sighed again, even louder this time.
“What?” You said, taking your headphones out.
“Why are you ignoring me?” He immediately asked, and your brows furrowed.
“Ignoring you? Why would you think that?”
“Well, for starters, you haven’t really spoken to me since my birthday. What’s up with that?”
“Well, I didn’t really have to, did I?” There was no reason for your somewhat sarcastic tone and it’s not like you weren’t mad at him or anything, but you were exhausted from flying back and forth, plus doing your job. It’s not like you were ungrateful, but sometimes, you just needed a break, and that included, not talking to anyone.
“You could’ve just answered my texts saying you were okay and that you weren’t going to be on your phone,” he scoffed, and you knew he was right. You were about to say you were sorry until he muttered something else. “Too busy with Alex, I see.”
“What?” You asked in disbelief, knowing he said what you heard, but wanted to clarify.
“You were, right?”
“What does this have to do with Alex?” You were starting to grow frustrated.
“I mean, I saw you two at my party, and you two left together and stuff. So, you were probably busy for the entire week,” he said casually, scrolling through his phone as if you weren’t fuming right next to him.
“It was one night-”
“Are you saying you had sex with him?” He turned his head towards you with raised eyebrows. He had this look on his face that told you he knew everything, but he just wanted to hear you say it. So, you did.
“Yeah. So what if I fucked him? Is there something wrong with that? Didn’t get a little birthday sex? Don’t worry, I had some for you!” You tried containing your yells, but it came out like a loud whisper. Luckily there weren’t that many people on the plane; only the people who flew first class.
It was true. When Alex had suggested talking, you found out that he was a very nice and funny guy. The night was getting late, and you said you were going to head home (which was a hotel), so he offered to drive you since you took an Uber, and that led to you inviting him up to your room and him gladly saying yes. It all happened so quick. You had immediately kissed him once you closed the door, and that led to him taking both of your clothes off before he fucked you. It was average sex, but you had fun considering that it’s been a while since you’ve had someone fuck you. That morning he left, telling you to text him, but you hadn’t and you don’t know if you will.
Harry stayed quiet, looking back down at his phone, and you shook your head, sitting correctly, and looking out the window, knowing that this was going to be a long flight.
Just as you knew, the ride was bumpy, raising your fear and anxiety as you held onto yourself for dear life. You turned your music up, put your hands into your sweater, and crossed your arms in a way to calm you down and feel like someone is holding onto you. You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the songs until you felt a hand on your arm. You opened your hands, and saw Harry with his eyes closed, but you knew he wasn’t sleeping. He had always held your hand when you two would fly together and there was turbulence. It was something he did that made you feel safe and comfortable during the flight.
You smiled softly, taking his hand in with your as you shifted closer to his seat despite the middle console in between you two. For the rest of the flight, you weren’t as scared.
Once you two landed, Harry’s driver was immediately outside in the designated area, and you two were taken back to your place before there was any cause of commotion at the airport. Harry helped you with your bags, walking to your front door.
“Hey, I’m sorry for everything on the plane,” he said as you looked for your keys in your purse.
“It’s okay. I’m sorry too--for not replying to you and for snapping at you on the plane as well,” you said back. “Can I just ask why you were so...angry I was with Alex?” You wondered.
“I…uh,” he stumbled over his words, trying to find the right thing to say without it coming out like he was a jealous prick. “Just...Alex is known for charming the shit out of you, so he could sleep with you, but seeing as you already slept with him…”
“Harry, isn’t it my job to decide who I can and can’t sleep with? I get that you want to look out for me, but just let me decide that, alright?” You said softly, and he nodded.
“Think I was jealous,” he blurted out, and he immediately closed his mouth and widened his eyes once he said that because he really didn’t mean to.
“W-Why?” You looked at him concerningly, and Harry took a deep breath because now he had make up an answer because god knows what the truth is.
He took a step forward, looking at you so intently. You felt like he was staring you down, but you didn’t look away as you were so lost in his eyes that it physically made it difficult to even glance the other way.
Next thing you knew, he was inches away from you, glancing down to your lips and back up to your eyes. You held your breath as you looked up at him, looking extra close at the pinkness of his lips. Your chests were pressed so close against one another that you were sure he could feel your heart pounding through his. It was so loud that it rang through your ears—so loud you couldn’t hear anything else except for the constant chanting in your head screaming ’Harry, Harry, Harry.’ It was Harry that you wanted to kiss so badly. It was Harry who’s lips you could touch in an instant if you were to just lift your feet. It was Harry. It always has been.
But you couldn’t.
Brooke.
You immediately stepped away from him as your eyes looked down, finally away from Harry. “I’m sorry-”
“No, I’m sorry-”
“Because Brooke, and-”
“Yeah…”
You nodded, not sure what to do next, but seeing as you were still outside of your door, you finally got your keys out, and unlocked it.
“Well, I’ll see you.”
“Yeah, I’ll text you,” he said as he started walking backwards away from your apartment.
You nodded. “Yup. Bye.” He waved, turning around and walking down the hall.
Walking into your space and bringing your luggage in, you sighed as you closed the door. It was completely silent as your mind was racing and your heart was beating.
What the fuck just happened and what the fuck was that?
3 March 2018
The first show of Harry’s tour was kicking off, and you were excited for him. He was slightly nervous and jittery, but that was expected.
The ‘moment’ you two had when you came back from Los Angeles after your birthday was past you two. Although, you still think about it way too often, Harry seemed like he didn’t want to talk about it, so you respected that and didn’t bring it up. Besides, what was there to talk about anyways?
The first show started in Basel, Switzerland and you were very stoked. You’ve never been to any of the countries he’s going to play in besides London and some cities in the states, so it was going to be an adventure for you. For his very first tour that included small venues, you rarely went to any of the shows, so to say you were excited was an understatement.
You were with Harry Lambert, looking at the first show suit in the stylist room. It was a Gucci black sparkly suit with gems on the lapel. You hadn’t seen this particular suit on him yet because you weren’t at the fitting the day he tried it on, but you absolutely loved it. It gave everyone just a hint of what the rest of the suits for the tour will look like.
“Har—oh,” Brooke had entered the room, assumingly looking for Harry, but was disappointed when she saw you. “Have you seen Harry?”
“Uh, I haven’t. He might be out on the stage,” you said honestly, and she nodded, turning around. But before she could exit the room, you called her, “Hey, Brooke.” She turned around, rolling her eyes. “I just kind of want to mend things between us. I feel like there has always been some sort of tension ever since we met, and seeing that you’ve been around for long and might be around for even longer, we should be civil towards one another.”
“Well, obviously there has been. You’re trying to steal my boyfriend,” she said straightforwardly, and you raised your eyebrows, looking at Lambert. He was looking at Brooke with a not so friendly look, knowing that you would never do that despite knowing that you were in love with him. “I’ve said it once, and I’ll say it again. You will never get Harry. He’s in love with me, not you. Don’t think I don’t know what you’re trying to do. You will never be enough for him because you’re just his assistant. That’s all you are to him. Don’t think you’re more than that, okay?” She said with a smile, and you bit your lip, not wanting to argue with her.
There was something about her words that really got to you, and you think that’s because she’s actually dating Harry and has managed to weave her way into his heart.
“I’d hate to continuingly have to tell you this, but I think the first time was enough, right? Now you’ve made me tell you twice,” she continued as she scoffed. “Anyways, I need to go find my boyfriend,” she turned around but suddenly stumbled back as she was met with Harry. “Oh, Harry. I was just looking-”
“Don’t even speak right now,” his eyes were dark and he was angry.
It wasn’t like you to see Harry so often considering that he sometimes deals with rude fans and pushy paps, but he was mad.
“I-”
“Are you fucking kidding me right now? Trying to degrade my best friend and assistant?”
“Har-”
“We need to talk,” he told her, leaving the room. She turned around to look at you with sad eyes, but you simply couldn’t help her, not like you would anyways. She followed him, and the room was left with a weird tension that needed to be cut with a knife.
“Well, wasn’t that interesting,” Lambert said.
After about thirty minutes, Harry walked back into the room. He stayed complete silent and started undressing to get into his suit since there was thirty minutes left until he had to go on. You and Lambert looked at each other, not knowing if you two should say anything, but decided to keep your mouths shut and let him get ready.
Once he was dressed, he thanked Lambert and walked out of the room; once again with the same tension being in the air. You walked out as well as you debated whether or not to talk to him, but you saw him and the band gathering together, so you figured you could just talk to him after.
The show had finally started, and the band was going out on stage. The crowd was roaring like crazy as the anticipation of seeing Harry was finally coming to an end. Once the band was fully equipped, Harry started to climb up the stairs. Around the stage it was dark as the beginning of ‘Only Angel’ started to play. You turned on your flashlight on your phone, and called out for him.
“Harry!” He turned around, holding the railings of the stairs, and his expression was normal; no smile or anything. “Goodluck out there!” Once you had said that, the corners of his lips turned up as his mouth turned into a soft smirk.
“Thanks, angel,” he said before pointing up as a way to say ‘listen to the song.’ “This is for you,” he quickly told you, running up the stairs and to the stage before the big circular screen rose up.
You watched the rest of the show from the side of the stage, not too far away from the front of the pit. He was spectacular on stage; he truly belonged there. He charmed the crowd, made them laugh, scream, cry, and dance their hearts out for an hour and a half, and you were truly amazed. The atmosphere of the venue was insane, loving every second of it.
Once he finished with ‘Kiwi,’ he said his goodnights to Switzerland before running off the stage and meeting the band, talking about how crazy and fun the first show was. He told everyone that it’s only going to get better from here, and everyone nodded and high fived excitedly.
After a few minutes, Harry walked to his dressing room to cool off, and you followed behind him. It may seem as clingy, but you were concerned for your best friend. A lot went down with Brooke in just a few minutes, and you wanted to know if he was okay, despite not showing any signs of sadness or anger on stage.
You knocked on his dressing room door and opened it before you heard ‘come in.’ Harry looked up, and saw you peek your head through the door, and he gestured you to come in all the way, which you did.
“That was an amazing show, H,” you complimented.
“You watched?” He asked surprisingly.
“Yeah, didn’t miss a moment. I was on the side of the stage.”
“Oh, well. Thank you,” he said.
There was a moment of silence as you tried to form your words on how to go about talking to him about what had happened before the show.
“I-I just wanted to ask if you were okay?” You started. He took a seat on his couch as you stayed standing up in front of him. “I’m sorry for what happened before the-”
“Why are you saying sorry?” He asked, looking up at you as if he was genuinely asking.
“I...I don’t know what happened with Brooke, but if something did happen then I’m sorry,” you nervously. The only reason why you were so nervous was because you hoped that he didn’t get mad at you for whatever happened with her.
“You didn’t do anything, angel. You did nothing wrong at all,” he sighed, and you stayed quiet as there was definitely more of what he wanted to say. “But I did break up with her.” Your brows raised at that, and you fought the urge to jump and cheer.
“Y-You did?”
“Yeah. I kind of wanted to a few weeks ago, but I never got the chance to. But before the show, she gave me another perfectly good reason why we shouldn’t be together, so I ended it.” There wasn’t a hint of sadness on his face as he told you.
“What were the other reasons?” You hadn’t known that he wanted to break up with her before the events that happened today. You would expect him to talk to you about it, but you weren’t hurt by it.
“I…” he cut himself off, and you waited patiently to see if he was going to say something. After a few more seconds, you saw him debate with himself to see if he actually wanted to tell you, and you wondered if he trusted in that sense; to talk to you and tell you things that were on his mind, but you didn’t want to get into it with him.
“Are you okay?” You asked instead, truly wanting to make sure.
“I should be asking you that.”
“No-”
“Angel, c’mon. Behind closed doors, I didn’t know half the shit she was saying to you. I told her to fess up everything she’s done to you, and she did. Let me tell you, I was not happy at all that you had to deal with that without me knowing. And that fact that she lied to me about asking you to hang out and pretending to be nice to you--no wonder why you didn’t want to hang out with her.”
The first time you had hung out with her was when you had to pick up some lunch and dry clean for Harry. They had only been dating for two months, so you thought it was best to get to know her since you were Harry’s best friend. You asked if Brooke wanted to go, and she hesitantly said sure, but when Harry thought that was a great idea, she perked up to it and said yes. When you two were in line for lunch she had asked you the basics of your job before rudely interrupting you and telling you that she knew that you were in love with him. Before you could even deny, she wasn’t having it and told you that you weren’t good enough for him and that you were only hired because you were Glenne’s friend. You were quite devastated after that and you faced Harry everyday with a smile on your face, but with the lingering thought of her words in the back of your mind.
“Yeah, she wasn’t my particular number one person to hang out with,” you said sadly, and Harry sighed, standing up. He walked closer to you, and it felt like that time when you got home from the airport, and placed his hands on your shoulders.
“Her talking shit about you was the last straw. Can’t have anyone talk to you like that, ever,” he said while looking into your eyes as if he was trying to convince you.
“I am really sorry that you had to go through a break up though--especially on your first night of tour. Plus, it was your first serious relationship you’ve had in a while,” you felt bad because no one should go through the pain of a breakup.
“It’s alright. Wasn’t in love with her like she said--didn’t even say those words to her. And it was her idea of wanting to meet my family. I was still wary about it, but that was one of the subjects for most of our arguments,” he sighed. “But I’m gonna be much happier without her. Felt like I was always stressed out around her,” he chuckled, causing you to as well. “But if anyone that I know talks to you like that ever again, please don’t hide that from me. I hate knowing that you were taking all of that shit, especially for months.” You nodded your head and he gave you a smile.
He pulled you in for a hug and you wrapped your arms around his waist, resting your head on his chest. You two stayed like that for a moment as you both felt like it’s been a while since you two has had one of these hugs. All thoughts and worries flew out of your head--not thinking about when the next time you’ll have one of these types of hugs again, and you felt safe in his arms.
And you cherished it.
30 March 2018
Tour was going by rather quickly as the first ten shows were already done with.
You were able to see some beautiful sightings of the countries with Lambert and some of the band, and throughout that time, you had wished Harry was with you all, but for obvious reasons, he couldn’t be out in public so casually.
Everything you’ve seen was so beautiful and your jaw dropped everytime you would look at a tall and high building, or the skyline of the entire city. You were quite amazed.
Now, everyone was in Barcelona, and it was by far one of your favorite cities that you’ve visited. You loved the atmosphere and the ambiance that walking through the streets of Spain had placed a beaming grin onto your face. You were only staying for a couple of days before everyone had to pack up and head to Madrid, but you made sure to snap a mental and physical photo to remember your time in Spain.
But rather than spending your day on the streets, roaming around the beautiful city, you were currently looking for Harry because Lambert was also looking for him, and of course, you decided to help find him. You pretty much checked every room backstage besides the bathroom, and you didn’t really think to check the restroom, but he might be in there, so you made your way towards it.
“Oh! Oh, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to barge in,” you said once you entered the restroom.
The sight before you had made you sweat. A series of butterflies made its appearance in your stomach, making your hands shake. The slightest bit of air from swinging the door open had made chills rise onto your skin, but you knew that it was because of the beautiful man in front of you.
You had walked in on Helene taking pictures of Harry, possibly so he could post them on Instagram. But he was candidly looking into the mirror as he sprayed on his Tom Ford Tobacco Vanille cologne; the one that you had picked up for him multiple times, and the one that you think smells amazing, specifically on him. He strutted around like it was made for him, and it was honestly your favorite scent. His suit was a custom Palomo black and white checkered sequined suit that just looked fucking good on him.
“No worries, sweetheart. Just about finished. He’s all yours,” she winked at you before heading out of the bathroom.
“What’s up, angel?”
“Just wanted to tell you that Lambert is looking for you. Said he needed to fix up a stitch really quick before you go on stage,” you said, not meeting his eyes.
“Is that all?” He asked, sensing your nerves, and he knew that it was possibly from walking in on him, doing a mini photoshoot because he knew he looked good.
You gulped, “Y-Yeah.”
“You don’t sound too sure,” he challenged, walking closer to you, but not too close as there was a bit of space between you two.
“Uh-”
“Tell me,” he shifted even closer, making you nervous. You didn’t know where the sudden outbreak of him being somewhat flirtatious as he demanded you to tell him came from, but the sound of his raspy and deep voice, and the way he was looking was making you act up as you were about to confess your feelings towards him.
You figured it was time as you felt like he sensed that kind of vibe from you, plus Brooke mentioning that you were in love with him, which you think you’re pretty sure he heard, but you’re wondering why he hasn’t
“I-I want to tell you something, and this may potentially ruin things between us, but-”
“There you are!” The sound of someone else’s voice in the room and the banging of the room had interrupted you, and you and Harry stepped back from one another. “Everything okay here?” Lambert asked, looking at both of you and practically feeling the tension. Once you two nodded, not looking at each other, he looked at you both suspiciously before continuing. “Anyways, come with me. I need to fix something,” Lambert walked out of the restroom as Harry followed him, not giving you another look.
You turned around to look in the mirror, sighing to yourself as you shook your head.
Well, guess that’s not happening right now, you thought.
Watching Harry up on stage was something you would never get used to. You made sure to never miss a show as you watched from the side, and since he knows where you stand during the show, he always makes sure to go to that side of the stage and wave to you. But seeing him on stage was different every night. His performances and conversations with the crowd were always different and that’s what made them and him so entertaining.
Once the show was over, he made his way off the stage and to the dressing room. He talked a bit with the band, as they always did right when the show ends, to talk about their favorite moments and which songs they needed to work on for rehearsals. After that, Harry walked to his dressing room and you would follow every single time.
“Another great show, H. Never get tired of watching you,” you said once you entered the dressing room.
“Thanks, angel. Always feel like I’m on a high when I’m trying to cool down, like I just have so much energy to perform another hour,” he chuckled, wiping some sweat off his forehead.
“That must be exhilarating--being up there every night for your fans,” you walked towards him to stand in front of him as he leaned on the table of the vanity.
“Yeah, it really is,” he smiled. He pulled your arm towards him and wrapped his arms around your waist, giving you a hug. You were surprised by the sudden affection, but Harry was an affectionate type of guy, and really, you didn’t mind being close to him. Plus, he seemed extra needy since he recently just broke up with someone. “Thank you for being here.”
“Of course, Harry. Always going to be here for you,” you said against his ear as your arms were around his shoulders.
“And I’m always going to be here for you,” he said back.
For a moment, it was just this--hugging him as he cooled down in your arms, and you liked it...a lot. But when you pulled back, you didn’t pull back completely and it made you face to face with him, literally inches away from each other. You two looked at each other in the eye, glancing your eyes to his lips and back up to his eyes. The only thing you thought was: I really want to fucking kiss him right now.
And it seemed like he did as well because he crashed his lips with yours, molding them together as your arms were wrapped around one another. It was everything you expected as you dreamed of his lips on yours quite often, and you absolutely loved it. He felt like a drug, like all of your pain and worries went away once his lips touched yours, and you were addicted. You wanted so much more.
Your tongue makes its way in his mouth, meeting his, and he swirled it with his before lightly sucking on it. Your teeth found a way to bite his bottom lip and he let out a groan. He pulled back for a bit, looking at you before kissing you again.
“God, been wanting you for so long,” he groaned, and you felt butterflies in your stomach, trying not to take his words literally as to keeping your hopes down. But little did you know that his words were serious. “Can I touch you?” He whispered in between kisses.
You nodded, whispering out, “Please.” Harry’s stomach did flips once you gave him consent, and his hands trailed down your body. Luckily, you were wearing a simple dress with straps, so it was easier. He bunched up your dress up to your hips, and you held it up with your arm before touching you over your panties, feeling a wet spot over the fabric.
“Practically drenched. It’s for me, right?” He muttered, wrapping his free arm around your waist so you were closer.
“Yes. Always going to be for you,” you moaned as his hand continuously rubbed you and he smirked. Your words had completely slipped out, but it was the truth.
“Can I take them off?” He asked, and you nodded your head before he slid your drench underwear down your legs and you kicked them off to the side somewhere in his dressing room. You molded your lips with his again and grabbed a fistful of his curly hair, causing him to kiss you even harder.
Harry then started roaming his hands around your thighs, going to ass and squeezing the flesh, and you moan against his mouth. His hand moves up and to your stomach before trailing down to your hot core. He took his fingers and swiped up your slit, making you groan from the feeling of his hands.
“Fuck, you’re so wet,” he whispered before touching your clit and rubbing it. He buried his face in your neck to kiss, suck, and nibble on your skin, and that feeling made you throw your head back as his hands rubbed you and mouth kissed you. The feeling was indescribable, but it was Harry.
You felt his fingers slip inside of you, starting off with one finger before pumping in and out of you. He then added another finger as he curled them in an inward motion and brushed his fingertips against the soft upper area of your pussy.
“Shit, that feels so good. So, so good, H,” you groaned out. Harry took the straps of your dress off your shoulders, and kissed your chest where the gold chain he had gifted you rested. He pulled on the front of your dress to expose your tits, and his mouth immediately wrapped around your hard nipples, sucking them and pulling on them before releasing them with a pop. Your grip on Harry’s hair tightened as you felt like you were going to rip out his hair from the way you’re feeling. “Add another,” you whimpered out.
“Another finger?” He looked at you with wide eyes, but all he saw was your eyes closed and head being thrown back; and you nodded. He added his pinky finger in with his ring and middle finger, trying his best to curl them up into you, but the snugness of your hole was challenging him. “Fuck, you’re so tight. Practically squeezing my fingers,” he said, kissing your neck.
His words and fingers had gotten you to the edge, and you were minutes away from releasing around him. He saw you bite your lip and take deep breaths, and he knew you were close.
“C’mon, angel baby. Let go for me, yeah? Know you’re close,” he thrusted his fingers deep into you, and that was when you hit your peak. With loud moans, you jolted around his fingers, riding your high out as Harry continuously pressed kisses to your chest and neck. He took his hand, sticking one of his fingers in your mouth, and you swirled your tongue around his finger that was covered in your orgasm, and moaned. He took the other two fingers, and placed them in his own mouth, tasting yourself on his fingers. “Taste so good,” he smirked, kissing your forehead, and you leaned your head on his shoulders to take a breather.
Once you calmed down, you turned your head to kiss his neck, sucking on his skin to calm your breathing down, and Harry hissed. His hands ran through your hair and all the way down to your back, soothing you. After a minute or two, you lifted your head up, meeting his eye before you kissed him, deeply. You two made out for a while you unbuttoned his black shirt, and you pulled away from his lips to kiss down his torso until you were on your knees. Harry was hard as rock in his pants and desperately needed some release that he could possibly come any minute with how you’re kissing him.
His entire suit was still on and he went to take his jacket off, but you stopped him.
“Keep it on,” you looked up at him as you told him so before proceeding to kiss down his stomach. He put his arms down, and gripped and sat on the edge of the desk. You got to the hem of his pants and looked up at him, giving him a sight to die for. “Can I take these off?”
He looked down at you, smirking before nodding his head. “Please, take it all off,” he gave your cheek a stroke with his thumb, and you smiled looking back down to his pants to unbutton it, pulling down his trousers to his ankles, you saw his bulge, and smirked before you kissed over his underwear. Harry took a deep breath in as you palmed him before grabbing the hem of his briefs and pulling it down, his dick springing up as Harry’s shoulder relaxed from the lack of restraint.
“Fuck, you’re so big,” you said, grabbing his dick. You knew very well that he was well endowed because of the many times you’ve seen him get hard on stage, and also from that moment when you walked in on him in Brooke’s mouth had confirmed it, but seeing it up close was unreal. You licked your hand and grabbed his cock before looking up at him. “What do you want me to do, Harry?” Your voice asked seductively. He was completely under your spell as his breaths were staggered while you stroked him.
“Anything you want,” he breathed out. You smirked at the state he was in at the moment, and you loved every second of it.
You put your mouth around his tip, sucking it lightly, and that caused Harry’s breath to hitch in his throat. You took more of him in your mouth as you relaxed your jaw. He was bigger than the guys you’ve fucked and you really hoped you were doing a good job for him because you wanted him to feel good. You hollowed your cheeks in and sucked hard, slicking your tongue on the underside of his cock.
“Feels so good, angel baby,” he moaned, throwing his head back. He was already embarrassingly close, but he wanted to feel you more, so he tangled his fingers in your hair, getting a gentle but steady grip, and started guiding your head up and down his cock. You let him take control for the time being because honestly, you loved hearing the sounds of his moans start to progress. “That’s it,” he muttered under his breath once he felt the back of your throat.
You placed your hands on his thighs, gripping his skin harshly so that your nails dug into it, and he hissed, but the pain felt so good to him. After a few more pushes to your head, you pushed on his thighs so he could release you, and when you did that he knew that he was done being in control. You grabbed his cock that was slick from your mouth, and you loved your head down so you could take his balls in your mouth. More of the beautiful sounds coming from his mouth came out more loudly as you sucked until he finally said the words.
“Gonna cum, angel. Gonna fuckin’ cum,” he moaned. You saw his knuckles practically turn white as he gripped the desk hard. You loved your head back up to place the tip in your mouth as you fondled with his balls before he spurts his come in your mouth. “Such a fuckin’ good girl,” he said as you swallowed.
You kissed back up his stomach and to his neck before meeting his lips again. He tasted himself on your tongue, and you were a good mix with him. You two pulled back from one another, looking at each other before you both started giggling—post orgasm haze.
“Jeez, such an angel, but that mouth of yours is sinful.”
5 June 2018
The rest of the Europe, Australia, and Asia leg went by, and you were back in the states for the first show of the US leg.
Ever since the dressing room escapade, you and Harry had been acting differently towards each other. There weren’t anymore sexual acts, but there was a lot more affection. Sadly, not any kisses to the lips, but kisses to the cheek and forehead were made, and they were welcomed and given. He would always put an arm around your shoulder when you two were walking, and there was the occasional cuddle in his hotel room before or after the show. It was definitely different, but you enjoyed it.
What you didn’t enjoy was the fact that you hadn’t told him you liked him. You were sure he had an idea, but you wanted to say it out loud to get it off your chest. You also didn’t know if he felt that way towards you whatsoever, and that thought scared you. Just because of what happened in the dressing room didn’t necessarily mean he had feelings for you. The thought of him just leading you on and messing with you feelings made your heart sink when you think about it, and you really hoped it wouldn't get to that point.
Tonight was the Dallas show, and Harry wore an Alexander McQueen embroidered pink floral suit. As always, he looked amazing. But your favorite was the Barcelona suit, and you might be a bit biased on that given the events that happened in that particular suit. You chuckled to yourself as you followed Jeff and Glenne to your seats.
You decided to watch the show with them in the reserved seats in the lower level of the arena, and it was a change from the side of the stage, but you could really see more from the seats. Once you got to your seats, Harry had already finished up with ‘Only Angel’ and was moving on to ‘Woman,’ but a familiar man had caught your eye.
“Alex?” You called out through the music.
“Y/N! It’s so great seeing you!” He said, giving you a hug.
“What are you doing here?”
“Jeff and Harry invited me! Haven’t seen Harry perform since last year, so they reserved me a seat,” his face was close to your ear, so you could understand him better through the loudness of the crowd and the bass of the music.
“Ah, well I’m glad you’re here! It’s been a while,” you said completely innocently, and he nodded, smiling before turning his head to watch Harry on stage. In all honesty, the thought of Alex slipped your mind because your head was constantly thinking about Harry as it always does.
For the rest of the show, he was amazing. The crowd was wild as always, and he absolutely looked so cute in his suit. Your favorite part was when someone threw a rainbow sequined cowboy hot on stage, and he picked it up to wear it. It was a look, to be honest.
Before the band said their goodbyes to the crowd, the four of you headed backstage, so there wasn’t any delay with everyone trying to leave at the same time. As you were walking, you were walking next to Alex as Jeff and Glenne walked in front of you two.
“Hey, I was thinking. Maybe we should get dinner tonight? Y’know, to catch up? I know some places that are still open,” he suggested, and you liked the idea.
“Yeah, sure. Sounds good,” you said, smiling back.
The four of you met with the band as they laughed and talked about the show. You met Harry, giving him a hug as you told him that he did amazing out there. He hugged you back tightly, telling you thank you.
“C’mon,” he said, taking your hand as he wanted to go to his dressing room as you always did after his shows.
“Oh, uh, actually,” you pulled your hand back, causing him to stop walking. “I’m going out to dinner with Alex…” you said nervously, and he raised his eyebrows, looking down the hall and noticing Alex talking to Adam.
“Oh okay, yeah. Go ahead,” he let go of your hand, completely dropping it from his as his face dropped. In that moment, you wished you didn’t say yes to Alex and went with Harry to his dressing room. This would be the first time you were going to miss out on dressing room chats as he calmed down from his energetic state from being on stage. It would be the first time you weren’t going back to the hotel with him while holding his hand in the car and up to your rooms.
“Hey,” Alex caught up to you, not feeling the tension between you and Harry. “Ready to go?” You looked up at him briefly, placing a fake smile on your face before looking back at Harry who already had his back turned towards you, walking to his room.
“Yeah, I am.”
21 June 2018
The prospect of not talking to Harry as much hurt you a bit.
You haven’t had a full conversation with him in about two weeks. The most you’ve ever spoken to him was when someone was looking for him or if he was clearing up and clarifying his schedule. But other than that, nothing. You didn’t know why it was like that, but you tried not to let it get to you as you told yourself that he was tired from the tour. He was on the last month of tour and the flying had definitely caught up to him.
But that wasn’t the real reason.
You have been going out with Alex ever since that night in Dallas, and you thought it was nice to have someone to talk to other than Harry and the rest of the crew and band--although they’re very nice and fun people, you saw them everyday. And you came to find out that Alex was even more fun once you’ve gotten to know him even more.
Alex made you feel free. There was something refreshing about hanging out with him that made you want more, and he definitely took your mind off of thinking about Harry... by having his tongue down your throat and inside of you. There have been plenty of pleasurable times when Alex had made you feel good, and vice versa. It started out in the night at Fort Lauderdale, two days after Dallas, and you went out with Alex to a bar in the city. Both of you had too much to drink and he asked if you wanted to go over to his hotel, which of course you said yes. One thing led to another, and you were underneath him, moaning his name out. Ever since then, he would watch every other show and you two would have date nights that took the night away into a hotel room.
It was nice, and he liked you and you liked him back.
Liked him as much as Harry? Not quite. But there were definitely a little bit of feelings for him. Besides, he calls you nice things and tells you you’re pretty.
It was Harry’s first New York show in Madison Square Garden as a solo artist, and he was pumped, but also a little nervous. You were so incredibly proud of him and what he’s done in his career, so you were happy for him. And you were happy to be back home for a few days as well because you haven’t been home since the beginning of the month.
Alex stood next to you with an arm around your shoulder the entire time of Harry’s show. He was wearing a custom Gucci white suit with flowers printed all over and the phrase ‘Memento Mori’ underneath it. The lapel part of the suit was a velvet material and he wore a black shirt underneath. The trousers were flared from the knee down, and you absolutely loved it.
When the show was over, you and Alex headed backstage to meet with the band. You had expected that he wanted to get dinner already, but he hadn’t mentioned anything, so you assumed that you were going to go back to your hotel and hang out with him there.
“Lovely show, H,” you hugged him tightly, but he didn’t reciprocate the same energy into the hug like you, and you found that odd because he usually hugs you tight.
“Thanks,” he smiled softly, shaking Alex’s hand before thanking him for coming to the show.
You turned towards Alex and asked, “What’s the plan for tonight?”
“Oh, I was going to tell you, but I’m hanging out with a couple of friends from college that live here. So, I can't hang out with you tonight. I’m sorry,” he slightly pouted. “I’ve got to get going now though, so I’ll see you tomorrow?” You nodded understandingly.
“Yeah, definitely. Probably best we don’t hang out all the time because I don’t want you to get tired of me,” you joked, and he shook his head no. “But I’ll see you tomorrow. Text me,” you told him before he gave you a kiss on the lips before heading towards the exit.
Harry had watched the whole interaction with a small frown. He tried to contain his jealousy when he saw Alex kiss you and you smiling, but it was difficult for him to not scoff loudly, so he turned around and walked towards his dressing room. You turned around to find Harry missing, and you assumed he went to his dressing room, so you headed over there. You knocked on the door before entering, and you found him on the couch with his phone in his hands.
“Hey,” you smiled, sitting on the couch as he muttered a ‘hi.’ “Are you okay?”
“Yeah, what makes you think I’m not?” He said defensively, and you furrowed your brows.
“I never said you weren’t. I just wanted to make sure you were. I haven’t talked to you in a while.”
“Well, that’s not my fault,” he whispered under his breath before continuing to scroll through his phone.
There was a bit of a silence, and unfortunately, it was an awkward one. You didn’t feel needed in the dressing room, but you sat there awkwardly as you didn’t know what to say to him.
“You’re seeing Alex?” He suddenly asked, breaking the silence.
“Yeah. Just hanging out with him,” you got up to grab a water bottle from the table, and you opened it, taking a sip.
“So, you’re fucking him?” He said casually, but you choked on your water, immediately coughing. Once you calmed down, you looked at him with watered eyes.
“Uh…”
“You can tell me,” he said sternly.
“I mean, yeah, we had sex a few times, but there’s no label or anything like that. We’re just hanging out,” you told him, and he nodded.
“Do you like him?” He raised his brows, and you took a deep breath, wondering what all these questions were for.
“I think so, but-”
“Good, he’s a good guy,” he interrupted you. You liked Alex, yeah, but comparing your feelings for Alex to Harry...unmatchable. “I’m glad you’re happy,” he said, getting up from the couch before grabbing a towel from the vanity and walking out of the dressing room. Once he left, you were alone in the dressing room. You sighed deeply as you buried your face in your hands.
“Yeah, sure I am.”
22 June 2018
The sound of ringing had woken you up from your slumber.
You groaned as you tried to make out where your phone might be on your bedside table with your eyes closed, but you were hitting empty spots, so you opened one eye and grabbed your phone.
“Hello?” Your morning voice coming out through the speaker.
“Y/N. Can you come by, like right now?” It was Harry on the phone, and you groaned. After the night prior, you thought he didn’t want to talk to you, but seeing as you’re still his assistant, of course he would call you.
“Why must you call me at,” you pulled your phone back to look at the time, “six in the morning?”
“Please. It’s important. I have some stuff I need you to do,” he pleaded, and you stretched your limbs out, making inhumane noises while still being on the phone, and Harry chuckled.
“Fine. Be there in like twenty.”
“Thank you, angel! See you.”
He must be in an awfully good mood this morning, you thought. And it’s been a while since you heard your pet name, but you brushed it off and got ready.
You unlocked the door of Harry’s house, letting yourself in. You found him sitting on the couch, reading a book until he looked up at the door and saw you. He got up and walked towards you, and opened his arms, giving you a big hug.
“Hey, angel. Thanks for coming by,” he said into your ear, leaving you in goosebumps.
“Course. Everything okay?” You asked once you pulled away.
“Yeah. I miss you, y’know. Feel like we haven’t spoken in a while,” he trailed off a bit, and you squint your eyes at him.
“I sense a ‘but,’” you said, and he chuckled.
“I actually need you to get these for me, if that’s okay? Just need them before the show,” he handed you a list, and you looked at it.
The items were something similar as before: a bouquet of flowers and a gift basket with various types of snacks. As you read through it, that’s when you knew and your heart sank.
“So who is it?” Harry looked at you curiously, and you waved around the list up. “Who are you dating?”
“Oh, this girl I met through a mutual friend. She actually was at the Dallas show and we met after at a bar. She’s in the fashion industry; her name is Rena,” he explained with a smile. “She’s coming to the show tonight, so I just wanted to get her a little something.”
“Okay, I’m on it. I’ll see you tonight,” you headed out, figuring since you had nothing else to do, you could stretch your errands out until the show. You decided to have breakfast first and get some coffee since it was quite early still, and enjoy a day to yourself until Harry introduces you to yet another girl.
Rena was a nice lady. She was two years older than you and Harry, and she was drop dead gorgeous. You’ve never seen anyone this stunning up close. She always had the sweetest smile, and you were contemplating if she was real or not, and why Harry is calling you ‘angel’ and not her. It was difficult to hate her, and it’s not like you wanted to, but considering that you have feelings for Harry, you wanted something to be wrong about her--maybe a Brooke 2.0, but she was so kind to you, and she loved everything that was gifted to her from Harry, even if the items were the smallest things. So, there were no complaints.
Harry seemed happy with her, so that’s all that mattered.
1 July 2018
It seemed like Rena was around all the time now, like she was at every show since night two in New York. You tried to busy yourself by going around the town you were in or talking to Alex, but you missed Harry. It was always like this when he was dating someone; the first few months, he would completely forget about you and always hang out with the person, but once he starts settling in, he wants to talk to you. And since he’s only been dating Rena for a month, he hasn’t been talking to you lately.
You watched Harry on stage in St. Paul next to Rena, Alex, and Jeff as Harry was wearing a sparkly pink Gucci shirt with a pussybow on the front and some black trousers. The energy in the room was amazing. By far it was the best performance of ‘Medicine’ you’ve seen him perform. He even held out a pair of handcuffs in front of the crowd, making them go crazy, and he looked up at your section, glancing at Rena before smirking, making you cringe a tad bit as she cheered.
At the end of the show, you greeted the band, and immediately Rena was attached to Harry, which made you impatient because you wanted to hug him like you always do. But they were wrapped in each other’s arms as they kissed, no plans of letting go of one another.
“Hey, wanna head out?” Alex asked. You still hadn’t said hello to Harry, but you figured you could text him later, so you nodded, glancing back at the two of them and walked out with Alex. He took you to a diner that wasn’t too far from the hotel and you both ate breakfast for a midnight meal because breakfast simply hits differently when it’s at an unusual hour. Alex then walked you back to the hotel room, and you were exhausted by this point. You just wanted to get out of your shoes and sleep for a very long time. You were lucky that you weren’t sharing a room with Alex because sometimes you just needed to be alone, and this moment was that time. “So, I’ve been meaning to ask you something,” he said, stopping in front of your room and your brows raised as he continued. “We’ve been dating for about a month now, and I really like you, so I wanted to ask if you wanted to be my girlfriend.”
You had expected anything else, but that question. Your heart beat practically stopped for a moment as you looked at him, wondering if he was serious, and when he didn’t say he was joking, you realized that he was actually being serious.
“Oh, uhm…”
“It’s been fun getting to know you and travelling to these places with you, so I figured it was time to ask you.”
“Alex...you’re a really nice guy, but I’m just not sure I can be your girlfriend,” you told him honestly, and his brows furrowed.
“Why’s that?”
“I-I like you, but I feel like my feelings for you aren’t 100% there when it comes to being your girlfriend.” He only nodded, and you were getting quite anxious when he didn’t say anything.
He then started laughing, pacing around in the hallway and you crossed your arms.
“That’s hilarious,” he said.
“What-”
“No, the only reason you don’t want to be with me is because you’re in love with someone else!” His voice raised, making the hallway echo a bit. You looked at him, not knowing what to say. “Yeah. I know you’re in love with Harry. Noticed that the first time I met you; that you were staring right at someone that wasn’t yours, but desperately wanted to be.”
“I…” you were speechless. Had you really been that obvious about your feelings towards Harry that everyone around you noticed?
“It’s a shame though, isn’t it?” He had a grin of the devil; mischievously and humiliating. You looked at him nervously, urging him to continue. “You’re in love with someone that doesn’t even want you,” he stated. “That doesn’t look your way for a second when he thinks about a relationship because you’re only his assistant. Not once would he look your way down the street if you weren’t working for him,” he looked you up and down, and your eyes started watering, and you were embarrassed that you were about to cry in front of Alex as he crushed you in every possible way. “It’s okay, don’t cry. You have me,” he opened his arms to take you in for a hug, but you physically pushed him away because now you were angry.
“I have you? Are you fucking kidding me? After you just humiliated me?” You were breathing out through your nose as your tears made their way down your cheeks.
“Hey, I’m just telling you the truth-”
“Why did you even ask me to be your girlfriend?” You asked, genuinely confused on his logic.
“Well, the question that you’re supposed to be asking is why did I talk to you in the first place?”
“Why did you?”
“Since you want to know so bad,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes. “When I saw you, I definitely liked you, but then I saw you were giving heart eyes to Harry, so I thought I could change your mind. See if I could switch your feelings up,” he chuckled.
“So, this was some sort of experiment? Guessing your hypothesis was wrong then, huh? Go ahead and write your conclusion as: fucked her, but dick wasn’t good enough to fall in love. So, fuck off,” you rolled your eyes and opened the door before slamming it shut in his face. Your back was leaning against the door as more that you’ve been holding onto fell from your face as you heard him still talk.
“You’ll never be like Brooke or Rena, or whoever he dates in the future! You’re nothing to him!” He yelled through the door as his words came out muffled.
Sliding down the door, you finally heard him leave, and you were full on sobbing. You tried not to let his words get the better of you, but the way Alex spat them out so easily, it was hard not to.
Because what if he’s right.
7 July 2018
Harry noticed that you had been feeling off the entire week.
It was like you were simply existing, but not present in some moments when people would talk to you. You had this dull look on your face, and it wasn’t the same as your bright and happy look that he looked forward to everyday. He noticed it when everyone was leaving from Minnesota, and he told himself that it was because you were tired, which was true, but he didn’t know the whole reason.
After the show in Seattle, he didn’t see you like he used to, and he wondered where you or if you even watched the show. Once he high fived and talked to everyone for a bit, he headed to his dressing room, hoping that you were in there, but you weren’t. So now, he was worried.
H: Hey, where are you? He texted. Luckily, Rena wasn’t around anymore because she would want all his attention after the show. He simply couldn’t take someone being so clingy, so he called things off with her. It may have also had to do with the fact that he didn’t want to hide his feelings anymore, and being with other people just wasn’t working for him anymore. Not when you were in front of him.
It’s been a long time coming now, and he felt stupid for not telling you in the first place since he’s been in love with you since last year--during the time he was with Brooke. He was honestly afraid to tell you, and when he heard Brooke say it, he just felt so much shock run through him, so he kept his mouth shut. He didn’t have an excuse as to why he got with other people while being in love with you, but it just made him feel in control of himself because he couldn’t control his feelings towards you, so he got scared. So, he decided that when everyone gets to California in two days, he’s going to confess his entire feelings for you.
Harry walked to your hotel room, knocking on it as he waited for you to answer. He could hear shuffling and movement through the door, and he hoped to god that Alex wasn’t in there with you.
“Who is it?” You said through the door, softly.
“Angel, it’s Harry. Can I see you?” He asked. There was a pause, but then he heard the door handle rattled as you opened the door.
Your face was a crying mess and your hair was up in a very messy bun. Harry’s mouth opened slightly as he concerningly asked, “What’s wrong? Are you okay?” His question and concern had made you sob even more as you shook your head. “C’mere,” he pulled you in for a hug and you sobbed into his chest as he walked you over to the edge of your bed. He observed your room and saw that there were a stack of clothes folded on the other bed along with your open luggage with some of your belongings inside. “Angel, what’s going on?” You pulled your head out of his chest to look at him, knowing that he was probably wondering why you were packing; and he had a sad expression on his face.
“I’m leaving,” you simply said.
“Leaving? Where are you going?” His brows furrowed.
“I’m going back home.”
“W-What? Why?”
“I can’t be your assistant anymore, Harry,” you cried, and Harry’s heart sank as his jaw dropped.
“What are you talking about? A-Are you quitting?” You stood up, placing the stack of clothes in your luggage as you sorted them.
“Y-Yeah,” you said quietly, and Harry has never been more confused in his life.
“W-What did I do wrong? I’m sorry we haven’t been seeing each other lately, but I promise after tour-”
“No, no. It’s not you, I promise,” you shook your head. In this moment, you felt like you should tell him everything because he deserved an explanation from you. “Please, listen, okay?” He nodded. You walked to sit on the desk chair in front Harry as he sat on the edge of the bed. You proceeded to tell him everything that Alex said from him asking you to be his girlfriend to you saying no. “He said these mean things that-”
“What the fuck did he say?” He gritted his teeth and took a deep breath.
“Just listen,” you stopped him. “He said those things because I’m in love with someone else…I’m in love with you, and you probably heard Brooke say that, but you didn’t say anything, so I just assumed that you didn’t want to believe it.” It was the words Harry has been wanting to hear and he went to open his mouth, but you immediately started talking again. “I have been ever since I started working for you, and I thought it was just a crush on my boss, but it’s way more than that. Alex told me I’m not good enough for you and that you would never love me, and I think that’s true-”
“No! That’s not true! I love-”
“Please, don’t,” you shook your head as you sobbed. You’ve been waiting for years to hear those words, but you knew that you couldn’t hear them just yet. “Don’t say those words because I’m leaving and to prove Alex wrong.”
“I’m not trying to prove him wrong, it’s true,” Harry’s eyes watered, and you sighed.
“What he said got me thinking…I go to all these stores and pick shit up for your love interests, sending me a list of all their favorite things, and wishing that they were for me. And in the midst of it, I realized you don’t know what my favorite flower is! I’ve been hurting for so long that I covered it up everytime and put a fake smile on my face just to see you happy.”
“Your favorite flower is-”
“I just really think that I deserve to be happy as well,” you nodded your head as a way to try and convince yourself.
“You do deserve to be happy, angel baby. But we can be happy together? I-I… want you here. With me.” His voice was filled with hope, and it only made it harder for you.
You closed your eyes for a moment, burying your face in your hands. “I want that so bad. I do, H. But I really need to be happy with myself and by myself first. I depended on you and the others around me a lot, and I just didn’t save that love for myself, so…I need to leave,” you sniffled, wiping your cheeks.
“And when you come back?”
“I don’t know when that will be or what’s going to happen, but I’m not asking you to wait for me or anything because you should live your life. But when I come back, I’ll call you, and we’ll talk,” you told him, and it seemed like you had everything planned already, but you were just as lost as he was. He dropped his head, crying into his hands. You rolled your chair closer to him, grabbing his wrists, and he lifted his head. “We’ll be alright, okay? Just need a little time to myself.” He nodded, sniffling.
You stood up and walked over to your luggage, zipping it closed before you looked around to see if you forgot anything. Harry stood up and walked over to you, grabbed your wrists, and pulled you to him, giving you a hug. His face was buried in your neck and you felt him press kisses against your skin as he cried.
“You’ll be back?” The pain in his voice was enough to tip you over the edge of bawling.
“Yeah, I’ll be back,” you said in between sniffs. ���I’m going to stay with my parents for a while; get a job back in Oregon,” you told him, so he’s not completely out of the loop. He pulled back, looking down at you.
“When you come back, your job will always be here.” You smiled sadly, raising your hand to caress his cheek.
“We’ll see, okay? But I have to go to the airport now. My flight is in two hours,” you managed to free yourself from his grasp as it tightened so you wouldn’t go, but you really had to.
“Let me drop you off?” He offered, and you shook your head.
“No, it’s only going to make this harder,” you said, grabbing your luggage and backpack. “Have a great rest of the tour, alright? Take care of yourself,” you placed your palm on his cheek again, looking in his sad eyes before you reached up and kissed his cheek. “I’ll see you, honey.”
You walked out of the room with no glance back at him, and Harry was alone in your hotel room, and it was the last memory of you that would be ingrained in his mind forever.
14 July 2018
The crowd cheered loud for Harry for his final show in Los Angeles. He overwhelmingly smiled as he took a deep breath before continuing onto the next song. Everyone seemed to know what the next song on the set list was, so the room went a bit quiet as the crowd turned on their flashlights as the lights went completely dark, and the only thing was heard was the strumming of the guitar.
Woke up alone in this hotel room… As he sang, he took in his own lyrics, feeling like they really related to him at the moment despite writing the song two years ago. Harry sang with every emotion in him as he let it all out in the dark room that was silent, and the only thing he heard was his voice and the guitar that was played by Mitch.
We haven’t spoke since you went away…He had thought of you every night he sang this song since you left in Seattle, and it pained him that there was no contact between you ever since you left, but he figured that was what you wanted. What you needed.
Comfortable silence is so overrated… The moments when there would be silence between you two, he hated looking back at those moments because he knew he should’ve said something, you would’ve still been here.
Why won’t you ever say what you want to say? Why didn’t you say anything, Harry?
Even my phone misses your call, by the way…He missed your contact name pop up on his phone that went along with his contact picture for you. You were smiling bright as you ate ice cream. It was a summer day in New York and really warm outside, so you decided you two took a break from running around and got some ice cream. You were so happy that day, and he was happy he got it on camera.
Harry would often find himself looking at your pictures together; trying to pinpoint the exact moment you knew you were in love with him. Your smile always made his day, and it broke his heart knowing that he wouldn’t get to see that smile for a long while--at least he hoped it’s not a long time till he gets to see you again. Since, he knew when his feelings had progressed, he looked back on the pictures when he knew he fell hard. His smile had gotten bigger and the look he gave you was full of love, and he wished that you saw how he looked at you.
He missed you so much.
13 December 2019
It took you quite a while since you felt whole again.
You hadn’t felt so empty as you had been when you left Seattle. The year and a half you spent back at home really helped you with that. You were able to find yourself again; spending time with your family and with yourself was something so refreshing that you cherished every moment with them. You learned a lot about yourself, and you reshaped your own worth and values. You came back stronger than ever and you’ve never been happier than you are now.
You nervously walked over to the section you were going to be sitting in. The room was dark and the crowd was absolutely wild as they were finally seeing the one person they’ve been waiting for. You looked down, watching your step as you held your phone with the flashlight on your feet as they stepped onto the red floor of the pit, until you saw the familiar faces you’ve been looking for.
“Y/N! There you are!” Glenne smiled, taking you in for a hug. “I’ve missed you babe,” she said in your ear as you hugged her tight.
“I missed you too, so much.”
“Hey, Y/N. It’s good to see you again,” Jeff said, giving you a warm embrace.
The music was playing and the crowd had gotten louder as the man of the hour finally stepped on stage, and all the spotlights were pointed on him. You watched him as he walked down from the high stage to the main stage, grabbing his guitar as said hello to everyone before strumming the first note.
As you remembered, he was amazing on stage as he wore the same outfit as the album cover. He ignited the crowd with his charm and voice that left people in tears from being so overwhelmed by him. You felt overwhelmed as well; seeing him for the first time in a year and a half had made you quite emotional.
You knew you wanted to go to Harry’s ‘One Night Only’ show when he first announced it. From keeping in contact with him, you figured you could keep in contact with updates of him, and what he’s up to these days. You streamed his music, watched his music videos, and stayed up late just to hear a snippet of him on the radio. You were always excited when you would get the notification on your phone of new pictures and videos of him because that was the only way you were able to see him. You found out that he had spent quite some time in Japan towards the end of last year and the beginning of this year. You really hoped he was doing okay. During the days of finding yourself, the thought of seeing him again had scared you, and you weren’t ready for that, so you waited until this day to see him.
So, at the beginning of the week, you had texted Glenne that you wanted to go to the show, and she immediately said yes, putting your name on the list. You told her not to tell Harry just yet because you wanted to surprise him, and she was on board with the idea as was Jeff.
They were both really supportive of you during your times sulking and growing, and Glenne had even visited you in Oregon to make sure you were okay and simply just missing you. You were really thankful for both of them because you knew that it was hard to see their two friends in pain, but you were glad that they supported your decision. Glenne had always known that you were in love with Harry, and you told her ever since you figured your feelings out. But you had made her swear on her life and Jeff’s that she wouldn’t say a word about it to anyone, not even Jeff (although Jeff saw it coming).
“He’s going to be so happy to see you and know that you’re here,” Glenne said to you as the beginning of ‘Fine Line’ was starting. You thought the album was an absolute masterpiece that was composed of beautiful lyrics, melodies, and emotion. You made sure to dance and cheer for the songs you didn’t know the words to extra loud, and you sang to the ones you knew without hesitation. You stayed up all night, listening to the album multiple times on repeat and trying to get the words down, and you were sure everyone did the same.
As you listened to Harry sing the outro and the words ‘We’ll be alright’ coming out so effortlessly, you were reminded of your words to him as you left the hotel room. The song was quite hard hitting and you felt every inch of your skin cover in goosebumps.
You practically lost your shit when Stevie Nicks came out and performed ‘Landslide’ with him, and when he sang ‘Wonderful Christmas Time’ while fake snow was falling from the ceiling. Before you knew it, Harry was in the middle of singing ‘Kiwi,’ and Glenne tapped your arm, telling you to follow her and you knew that you three were going backstage already. You felt butterflies in your stomach, feeling really nervous to see him again up close after a year and a half; and you only hoped that he was happy to see you as well.
You heard the muffled final beat of the song as the crowd loudly cheered for him, telling him to do another song, but you knew that it was the end of the show. Jeff had walked way ahead of you both to grab Harry really quick, so he could point his attention towards you. Your hands were shaking as your arm was looped with Glenne’s as she provided physical support for you, holding you up, and continuously telling you that he’s going to be so ecstatic.
Cheers erupted from the crew as everyone hugged each other, proud and happy of the success of Harry’s first show of his sophomore album. Once you were close enough, you could make out everyone’s faces. The band was there along with Harry’s friends and producers that had written the album with him. Finally, there was Harry; his back was facing you as he hugged Jeff, and Jeff gave you an amusing smile as he hugged his best friend. You heard him whisper into Harry’s ear, and Harry pulled back, saying, “What?”
Jeff nodded, and Harry quickly turned around. His face was pulled into a shocked expression as his eyes widened and his body was practically frozen as he took in your presence. You smiled softly, waiting for him to say or do something because you didn’t know how he felt with you being here on his special night.
Finally, he took two long strides towards you, pulling you in for a hug. Your body collided with his, and smiled into his shoulder, wrapping your arms around his tone body.
“How are you?” You whispered in his ear as you practically felt him shaking in your arms.
“I’m doing good. Better now,” he said softly. “What the fuck are you doing here, angel?” He chuckled, finally realizing that you were here in his arms. The sound of your pet name had widened your smile as your eyes watered; feeling so happy that you finally got to hear that name come from out of his mouth again.
“Came to see you,” you said in his neck. He pulled back, looking at you in the eye before smiling like crazy as he took you in his arms again. He felt like he was on the moon; the overwhelming feeling of the feedback from the album, the show, and now finally getting to see you for the first time in a very long time—he truly couldn’t believe it, so he held you tight, not wanting to let you go as he felt like if he did, then you would vanish again. You felt his hesitancy or not wanting to let you go, so you whispered in his ear, “Hey, I’m here. Not leaving.”
He eventually pulled back, and noticed everyone that gathered around you two, and smiles were on their faces with their hands over their hearts. They all had really witnessed Harry struggle the past year and a half; from song writing, recording, rehearsing, and just being present. They really saw Harry at his lowest, and now they're happy to finally see him happy now that you’re here.
“I-I have to go meet some people and take some pictures, but do you think, uhm…” he trailed off, realizing that he might be acting too eager.
“H, I’m right here. Do what you have to do, and I’ll wait for you, alright?” You told him with a smile, and he nodded. He didn’t want to walk away from you, but you knew that some people were waiting for him, so he had to leave. He gave you one last hug, which brightened your smile, and he walked down the hall of The Forum. “Stay in my dressing room!” He called out, and you laughed, remembering the talks and moments in his dressing room after his shows.
Heading over to his dressing room, you stopped to say hi to everyone as they excitedly greeted you. You couldn’t believe that you were here again. The journey to get here was a struggle, but reuniting with everyone had made it so worth it—seeing Harry again was worth it, and you knew that you had to do it.
After an hour of catching up with the crew and band, and sitting on his couch, mindlessly flipping through the pages of the Fine Line Booklet that contained pictures of Harry in the process of recording his album, he finally showed up. Sighing as he walked in from the rush of the entire day, once he saw your face again, he knew he wasn’t in the state of dreaming because you were really here.
He took a seat on the couch next to you, taking your hand in his. He hesitantly raised your hand to his mouth and placed a kiss on the back of it; you smiled at the sweet gesture, caressing your thumb against his hand.
“How are you, angel?” He asked, softly smiling as he was trying to contain his excitement that you’re finally here.
“I’m good, H. I’m happy,” you said, and hearing that made Harry’s eyes glossy because that’s all he wanted from you. He wanted you to be happy; with yourself, with others, and with life.
“I’m so glad to hear you say that,” he smiled, dimples poking out. You reached over to caress his cheek, rubbing his dimple out, and he turned his head to kiss the inside of your hand.
“I want to hear everything from you--catch me up on everything?” He nodded eagerly, wanting that from you too.
“Security said that the parking lot is empty now because they had to practically kick everyone out, so there’s no one out there, but what do you say we go out there and walk around the parking lot?” He suggested. It was almost midnight, and despite being exhausted and overwhelmed by this whole day, he’d rather stay up and talk for hours with you.
“Are you sure? You’re not tired?” You asked, and he shook your head.
“No, not at all. It’s been a year and a half since I last saw you. I want to spend time with you.”
“Okay, I’d like that,” you smiled, and he nodded, telling you that he was going to change really quick. He walked over to his duffel bag, grabbing some clothes before walking over to the changing room that was in his dressing room. Before he walked in, he turned around, facing you.
“Hey.” You perked up, smiling. He missed your smile so damn much. “Your favorite flower is a baby pink peony,” he said before walking into the room.
You were immediately taken back to the night when you had left when you had told him that he didn’t know what your favorite flower was, but all this time, he knew. He had always known.
Walking towards the exit of the venue, the night was dark as the moon shined from up above you. With cold air rushing through you, you shivered, and Harry smiled next to you as you two walked through the emptiness of the parking lot. Before you two even spoke a word on how to go about having the ‘catch up’ conversation, you sensed Harry’s nervousness as he felt a bit hesitant with you because of the distance and time spent apart. But you wanted to remind him that you were the same person. You had the same feelings for him, and you really hoped he had some feelings for you too.
So, you brushed your left hand against his right hand, cheeks flushed, and you interlock your fingers together, holding his warm ringed hand with your small one.
This was it--this moment right here. This was where you were supposed to be.
please come into my inbox and tell me how you’re feeling and what you thought of this! she was an emotional one :’)
#harry styles angst#harry styles fanfiction#harry styles smut#harry styles fluff#harry styles friends to lovers#boyfriend!harry#harry styles dirty imagine#harry styles one shot#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles ff#harry styles writing#harry styles one direction#harry styles#hs#harry
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The Sommelier (Hannibal x Female!Reader) pt. 1
Ding dong fannibals I’m back on my bullshit :)
I discovered that I cannot for the life of me be concise so this one might come in a couple parts. I don't anticipate it's gonna go as long as Cult Girl but we'll see. Y/n is an introverted waitress at a fancy restaurant with a crush on a mysterious regular. An encounter with a dangerous criminal pulls her into his world.
Trigger warnings: graphic descriptions of violence; implied drug use; religiously-motivated violence.
In some ways, waitressing was the perfect job for an introvert. Customers didn’t see you as a person, they saw you as an NPC. As long as that was the case, you weren’t expected to engage with them beyond the script: you take their order, bring them the food and they, hopefully, leave a tip. To ensure that, you perfected the art of fake happiness. You were there to make money, not friends.
Well, there was an exception to every rule. Yours was the sommelier.
The sommelier was a regular at the restaurant, but never ordered a meal. He mostly just sat at the bar, drank expensive wine, and watched the people come and go for hours at a time. Among the waitstaff, he was a bit of a local cryptid. Waitresses whispered about the handsome gentleman with an unidentifiable accent and deep pockets. About how lucky you had to be to score a bartending shift on one of the nights he showed up. It got to the point where bartending shifts were swapped like currency, because every woman on staff wanted the chance to meet the sommelier.
One of the more religious line chefs liked to remind you all that the devil would come as everything you could ever desire. He was fully convinced that the sommelier was Satan incarnate, and he wasn’t completely off the mark. Standing at six feet tall with features sharp enough to cut diamonds, the sommelier wouldn’t look out of place in a vampire thriller. He always dressed in dark suits. Your coworkers hypothesized this was so the bloodstains wouldn’t show. Despite the chef’s well-intended (if not condescending) warnings, even the threat of eternal damnation couldn’t scare you off.
As much as you liked to believe you were above stupid workplace gossip, you knew you weren’t. You were never the most socially adept person, but this gave you something to connect over. It’s how you discovered that you and the other waitresses were all in the same boat; broke, lonely and in desperate need of some excitement. And if that came in the form of a wine-loving vampire taking a liking to your restaurant, there were certainly worse ways to go.
Unfortunately, not even the chance at encountering the sommelier could make you look forward to working Easter Sunday. Your manager had you working from noon to midnight that day. As employers went, he wasn’t much of a tyrant. He offered you time and a half and even let you switch from waiting tables to bartending halfway through the shift. He, too, knew how coveted the bartending shifts were. And you weren’t in any position to refuse, either. You quite enjoyed having a roof over your head and food in your stomach.
That didn’t make up for the fact that most of the other twenty-something employees had left for the holiday, and you were one of the few stragglers left available. Easter was the most dreaded workday of the year, because the infamous after-church crowd quadrupled in size and lasted all day. They came in double-digit parties, had no concept of birth control and tipped in prayer. Too many times had you reached for what looked like a generous cash tip, only to find that it was a church pamphlet disguised as a fifty.
You clocked in at noon exactly, after waiting for the second hand to pass the twelve just to be sure.
“[F/N]!” Your coworker, Charissa, grabbed your attention before you could walk away. “I heard you’re at the bar this evening. Congratulations.”
“He’s not going to show up, Charissa.” You rolled your eyes. You decided to go into this shift expecting the absolute worst, that way you wouldn’t be setting yourself up for disappointment. “It’s Easter.”
“You don’t know that.” Charissa nudged you in the side.
You grinned. “Why would a vampire come to dinner on the one day everyone is gonna be wearing a cross?”
“Oh, shit, I didn’t think of that.” Charissa gasped. “Well, good luck anyway.”
The first wave of customers filing through the door and filling the restaurant with noise pushed all optimism out of your head. Sighing, you approached a person that Charissa had already seated.
“Hi, my name is [F/N], I’ll be your server today.” You greeted the first customer in your block. “Can I get you something to drink today?”
The man couldn’t have been a day over twenty-five, if that. He was still lively in a way that meant he hadn’t experienced the drain that was a minimum wage job. He was wearing a shirt that said ‘on fire for Christ’ under a flannel with no buttons. One look and you knew he wasn’t going to tip.
The man flashed a row of eerily white teeth. “I thought you said you would bring the wine?”
You momentarily thought you’d already taken his drink order and shook your head. “I’m sorry, did I--”
“Ah, I see your confusion.” The man shrugged and forced a laugh. “You’re waitressing this week, you and I are going on a date next week. My mistake.”
Great. You thought. It hasn't even been five minutes and I'm already being gaslit.
Any interaction that forced you to go off-script was bad, but this was a particularly irritating diversion. “Would you like to see a wine list?”
“I’m Chase.” He said. “It’s nice to meet you, [F/N].”
“Have you decided on a drink?” You repeated, trying not to grit your teeth too obviously.
"I'll have a glass of your finest coke, please." He faked an English accent, poorly.
"We only carry Pepsi products." You said, dreading how this joker would react to such a minor inconvenience.
He threw his head back and made a face like he had just taken a bullet to the chest. "No, it's gotta be coke! It's coke or nothing!"
"Did you want something else, then?" You tried to hurry him along. "The bartender makes a very nice mimosa-"
He smacked the table as if he had some urgent question. "McDonald's or Chick-Fil-A? There is a right answer, so choose wisely."
"...uh," You mumbled, just praying that he would order a drink already. There wasn't even a Chick-fil-A in the area. "I like McDonald's."
Again, he acted like he was shot in the chest. "Oh, you're down zero to two!"
"If you need a few minutes to select a drink," You said. "I can come back-"
He grabbed your arm and forced a laugh. "I'm just kidding around with you, [F/N]. Pepsi is fine."
You scribbled the order down on your notepad, mostly just to pry your wrist from his grip. You wanted to go into the bathroom and scrub yourself down, but perhaps it was just easier to chop the whole arm off. That way you could get worker's compensation, too.
The tables were filling up and you had spent far too long coaxing a drink order out of this youth pastor creep. You had actual families to wait on. The shift was off to a horrible start.
You made him wait for as long as you could get away with. You took drink orders from three full booths before returning to the youth pastor. Because you knew he was raring to corner you again.
You planted the pop in front of him, the glass already wet with condensation. "Have you decided on a meal?"
"I was just looking over this menu and something caught my eye." He began, looking at the holiday menu your manager had printed off. "This rack of lamb, it's a special, right?"
"Right." You nodded. "It's a pretty large meal, though, so I'd recommend sharing it-"
"No, y'see.." he cut you off. "Jesus was the lamb of god. He died on the cross for your sins. And, look!"
He pointed to the menu. "It says it's a 'praying hands' lamb!"
"Oh!" You forced yet another smile. "I can see the confusion. That just refers to how the rack is arranged."
"I think it's a sign from god." He said.
You demonstrated the shape of the dish with your fingers. "See, the rib bones are long and the racks are Frenched, so the dish takes the shape of a pair of, well, praying hands."
"I'll take it." He nodded furiously.
He took a sharp breath in through his nose and you started to seriously wonder if his definition of "coke or nothing" had a double meaning. It formulated in your head as a joke, but it became more and more of a serious inquiry by the minute.
You leaned in just slightly to get a closer look at his face. Some details you hadn't noticed before were beginning to come into focus. His eyes were vacant and glassy. A small but noticeable stream of blood trickled from his nostril.
"Sir?" You said in a clear, projected voice. "Is there someone I could call for you?"
He turned his head. "Jesus died for your sins."
You looked around the room for any sign of your manager, a supervisor or anyone with a shred of authority. "This man needs help!"
In your haste to call attention to the situation, you didn't see him pick up his steak knife.
"You want to know what Jesus felt when you pierced him?" He muttered, just loud enough for your ears alone.
You felt the serrated knife puncture your skin before you had time to process his words. The pain shot through your body, making you freeze in place.
A chorus of screams filled the restaurant. Blood was pouring from the open wound in a quantity you didn't think possible. Underneath, the knife went straight through your hand and into the table.
The man gripped the handle and gave it a twist, a look of horrifying pleasure on his face. At this point, several people had stepped in to restrain him. He was tall and athletic and could easily overpower many of the other customers, which he did. He found another steak knife and began to cut throats while chanting an incomprehensible prayer.
An older woman claiming to be a doctor rushed to your side. She made a makeshift tourniquet from a napkin and a butter knife. Everything after that was a blur. You struggled to stay conscious as the woman tried to guide the knife from the table while keeping it embedded in your hand.
Soon enough, police and ambulances arrived on the scene. The woman placed you in the care of one of the many EMTs, then rushed away to assist the others.
"I'm just doing what Jesus says!" The youth pastor shouted, before gouging his knife into another man's throat. "Spreading his love!"
The officers notably didn't open fire and made an attempt to de-escalate. Maybe that was how the youth pastor was able to escape.
#hannibal nbc#hannibal x reader#hannibal lecter#hannibal x you#tw religion#tw christianity#long form#tw customer service#tw blood#tw violence
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Blind mistake
Rowaelin month - day 8
So, this fic was fighting me at the beginning. as I started, deleted and restarted a million times.
Then slowly the idea came and here it is. What I was not expecting was to write a A Little Braver AU.
Aelin and Rowan meet under different circumstances and are two different people from thee actual story. Aelin is still the captain at east station and Rowan still the airforce captain.
Yes, this is a happier fic but as Aelin said in KoA... she loved Rowan because it was him, the man who had known pain as deep as hers.
IN order to enjoy this fic you do not need to have read ALB. A part from Pete popping up for a brief second at the end, this is a complete stand alone story and no knowledge of ALB is needed.
Rowan sighed. His love life sucked so much that he ended up using a dating app. Since Lyria dumped him a year before he had been struggling to go back in the game. He had been on a few dates but so far none of the women he met had sparked his curiosity. Far too bland and with almost no personality or far too bothered by looks. Some of them had been downright stupid and he had been a gentleman and played along when all he wanted to do was run away screaming. The last nightmare had been a woman called Remelle who Lorcan had recommended to him. He had to feign food poisoning and pay the chef to let him escape from the back of the restaurant to flee the monster. He had paid the bill sneakily, and once home he had insulted Lorcan and his poor taste in women.
Now he was again in a restaurant, ready for probably another fiasco. He and the woman had chatted a bit and she had seemed interesting so he had dared to ask her out and she had accepted. On the paper it was all good. In reality he was getting ready for another crazy escape. Maybe he should just give up and live alone and become a grumpy old man.
He had a kingsflame on the table near him, their code to recognise each other at the restaurant. The fact that they knew very little about each other made him nervous. It was a recipe for disaster. He knew she was a personal shopper and that she liked movies and music. He was really dreading the encounter now, and started to realise that perhaps it had been a mistake. She could have lied.
Until he raised his head and he noticed the woman who had just entered the restaurant. He then spotted the flower pinned on her green dress as they had agreed. Gods, the woman was way too hot for him. There was a catch somewhere. His heart raced when realisation dawned on her face and she waved and started to walk to him. The smile. Damn, the smile could stop a man’s heart. The woman walking toward him was a goddess. He was expecting her to turn away for another table until she sat down in front of him at his table. Rowan was speechless.
“Sorry, I am late. Accident on the ring road. I stopped to give a hand to west station.” She used her hand to brush off the smudge of grease he had only just noticed she had.
“You stopped?”
“Yes,” she looked at him with a strange light in her eyes “I am a firefighter. I am the captain at east station.”
Rowan blinked twice. Shit. She was the wrong woman. She was not here for him. Of course. It was too good to be true. She had sat at the wrong table and a part of him was sad.
“I am Aelin.” she said and he knew that it had dawned on her as well that he was not her date “You are not Chaol.”
Rowan shook his head “I am Rowan.”
“Holy shit. I saw the kingsflame. The restaurant. And you smiled at me when I came in. I just assumed...” He did not want her to go.
“Ach, I was having second thoughts anyway.” He shrugged.
In that moment the waiter came and they were hesitant for a moment then Aelin grabbed the menu and started ordering, surprising him. Rowan got some wine for both and they placed as well their order.
“Our dates are late anyway. Maybe stuck in the horrendous traffic out there.”
“You will not hear me complain.” Said Rowan with a smile “so, you stopped and helped?”
Aelin nodded, sipping a bit of her wine “I couldn’t resist it. West station was there but there were so many cars involved that I had to something. The traffic wasn’t moving anyway.”
Rowan could not believe the woman in front of him. Not only she was a goddess. She had even stopped to help her colleagues save people from a car crash on her way to a date. Where had she been all his life?
The waiter came with their order and smiled at the expression of joy when Aelin looked at the amount of food in front of her. Another point for her. She had an appetite. He had no need of another date ordering a boring salad. He was a healthy eater but loved a woman with an appetite, especially because he loved cooking.
“So Rowan, what do you do?” She asked him while tackling the gigantic prawn on her seafood tagliatelle.
“I am an airforce pilot. I am a captain.”
Her face lit up “as in the uniform and all? And the awesome planes?”
Rowan nodded.
Aelin was about to take another sip of her wine when two figures stopped at their table. A brown-haired man and a blonde woman. Both had a kingsflames pinned on their dresses.
“Excuse me but you are with my date.” Said the stranger.
Rowan looked up from his risotto “finders keepers.”
“And he is my date.” Said the woman in a shrill voice.
“What he said.” Added Aelin while eating another prawn.
“We got stuck in traffic. There is a massive road accident on the ring road.” Chaol complained, not letting it go.
“Yeah I know. I stopped to help and I still made it here before you.”
“So what does this mean?” Asked Chaol.
Aelin stared at Rowan. It was a no brainer. Chaol was cute but Rowan was sex on two legs. Between the silver hair and the green eyes he ticked all of the boxes. And he was a pilot. Chaol was an accountant.
“You two can go on a date together.” She suggested and hoped they took the hint.
“That is rude.”
“Oh shoot,” said Aelin covering her mouth in fake surprise “I must have left the fucks I have to give in my bunker gear.”
Chaol looked at her aghast. The blonde woman turned on her heels and left.
“You missed an opportunity.” He added before he left as well.
As soon as he left Rowan burst into laughter and she joined him “no fucks to give…” he said trying to catch his breath “I have to steal this when my CO drives me nuts.”
“Ansel, one of my firefighters, she taught me that.”
“It’s fucking perfect.”
And both resumed their dinner without the awkwardness of a blind date. No stupid questions like how many siblings do you have or what is your favourite colour. No, with Rowan there had been a connection from the start and the joke had been the final proof.
“Most guys would have left running at my joke. I have a big and foul mouth. Not very lady-like.” She apologised. “I work in a male dominated place. Apart from Ansel and my two paramedics, I am surrounded by guys and well, they are not easily scared.”
Rowan chuckled “I am in the military. My CO uses fuck you as a term of endearment and one of my lieutenants has the record for the most innuendos in a sentence.”
“How many?” Asked Aelin curios.
“Ten.”
“No friggin’ way.”
Rowan nodded solemnly. Then looked at her and he was glad she sat at his table mistaking him for another man. They had known each other only for twenty minutes but he was dumbstruck by the woman.
She was fierce, intelligent and with a wicked sense of humour.
The meal had been perfect. Aelin had polished every single plate in front of her and also ordered dessert. And when she offered to pay for half the bill he had smiled. He had plenty of dates where the woman didn’t even offer. She took it for granted that he, being the man, was the one paying. He had no issues with that, he was happy to pay, but the fact that Aelin offered made him realise that she was different.
They left the restaurant and he gasped when he saw a red pickup reading Terrasen fire department on its livery, parked just outside the restaurant.
“Way to scare the patrons away.” He joked.
“Sorry. Yesterday I took a lift to work from a colleague and I forgot for a moment that I had a set the date for tonight after my shift. So I grabbed my work pickup to get here. I need to go back to the firehouse and return it.”
“I’ll follow, you drop off the pickup and then I drive you home.”
“I can take a cab, you don’t have to come all the way to the station and back.”
“Humour me,” he said giving her a beautiful smile and she accepted.
Ten minutes later they were at east station and she parked the pickup in its corner at the side and out of the way.
She saw Rowan getting off the car.
“Welcome to east station.” She said extending her arms. She pushed a button and the rolling doors slid up and two big trucks appeared in front of him. He had always wanted to see one up close.
“Cap,” said a man at her back “what are you doing here? I thought you were on a date?” He smiled “that bad? I told you accountants were a bad idea.”
Aelin laughed “looks like I got myself an airforce pilot instead.” She winked at him and Rowan’s heart skipped a beat.
“I’ll tell you next shift, Pete. I just brought back the pickup before Dorian kills me.”
She waved at her relief captain and followed Rowan in his car and told him her address.
While he drove she studied him. He was wearing a nice pair of jeans, a shirt and a black leather jacket. She should have guessed he was military. Aedion had the same posture and he was ex-army.
“Which house?” Asked Rowan, waking her up from her thoughts.
“The one with the blue door.”
He parked and walked with her up to the door “I had so much fun tonight,” she said to him, not wanting him to leave her.
“I am so glad that you sat at the wrong table. This was the best blind date ever.” He looked at her and wanted to kiss her so badly but they had just met and he did not want to pass a a pig.
She moved a step toward him “I am glad too.” And her lips brushed his cheek in a kiss “perhaps we could go on a proper date. One where we are actually meant to meet each other.”
Rowan sighed relieved “It would make me very happy.”
Aelin rummaged in her bag until she found a pen then grabbed his wrist and pulled up his cuff a bit and wrote down two numbers.
“The first one is my personal mobile number. The second one is the direct number to my office. I am known to leave my mobile in my bunker gear.”
“Thank you.”
“Let me know a date and if I am not free we can find a better one. Us firefighters have crazy long shifts so I need to be off.”
He took her pen and her wrist and wrote his number “then you text me. A day that you are off shift. I work regular hours. This makes more sense.”
He took a step down from the few step and she hated the idea of him leaving.
“Goodnight, Rowan.” She opened the door and looked at him one last time.
Rowan waited for her to disappear behind the door and then went back to his car and was grateful for the best blind mistake of his life.
#rowaelinmonth#rowaelin#rowaelin fanfic#rowaelin fanfiction#rowan whitethorn#aelin galathynius#rowan x aelin#fluff
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BnHA Chapter 304: The Council of OFA
Previously on BnHA: Hawks and Best Jeanist were all, “what up Todofam, we are here to apply for the positions of ‘son #4’ and ‘weird uncle’, respectively,” and then proceeded to insert themselves into the family drama without waiting for an answer. Hawks briefed Endeavor on the nation’s current status of “totally fucked”, promised to help him sort that out, and then asked him about OFA. Endeavor was all, “oh do you mean One For All, the mysterious thing that my intern Deku was apparently being targeted for?” and then we cut away, presumably before Endeavor could clarify that it never occurred to him to follow up on that, and Hawks was all “no of course not, why would it occur to anyone other than me to follow up on any of this super weird and ominously important shit.” Anyway so meanwhile Bakugou was all “LET ME SCREAM AT DEKU UNTIL HE WAKES UP” and the other kids were all “NO”, and then the chapter ended with All Might being all “I wonder what the vestige!me is currently chatting with Deku about.”
Today on BnHA: Deku drops in on the Vestiges, who are all “sup Deku, how do you like our fancy chairs.” OFA II and III are all “if you need us we’ll just be standing here silently in the corner pretending to be invisible and sparking endless discourse with our mere existence.” OFA IV is all “and now I will explain to you in a very convoluted way that you being quirkless was actually a good thing, since it means that you are probably not going to suddenly drop dead at the age of twenty. But also you’re probably going to be the last user of OFA for that very same reason.” Deku is all “that is wild. I’m just gonna stand here and stare at my hand.” Nana is all “so now that that’s settled could you please do me a small favor and kill my grandson for me”, because having just one topic to discourse about this week WASN’T ENOUGH, apparently. Thanks so much Horikoshi.
(ETA: okay so just a note before I start, this week’s RHA translation was a huge mess, so I followed up this chapter by reading a couple of other translations. the main one I’m using for reference is the one by @hanashimas, whose weekly posts I highly recommend. anyway so you’ll see a couple of ETAs in this post in places where the initial translation was off.)
how many layers of bandages did they wrap this poor kid’s fucking hand in omg
jesus Deku. are you holding onto a bouquet of flowers under that thing?? or a tennis racket??
omg yes, finally
is he reading these names off a teleprompter lol. and if so, what has Jeanist ever done to slight you, Deku? “god bless Kacchan and Aizawa-sensei and Todoroki-kun and everyone else in the whole wide world... except for Best Jeanist. fuck that guy.” actually this joke would be funnier if half of tumblr didn’t legit feel that way lol but anyway
OH MY GOD
I NEED TO HAVE A TALK TOO. ABOUT, OH, EVERYTHING
I got immediate KHR vibes from ALL OF THIS. this is seriously such a Vongola aesthetic. “let’s use the luxuriously cushioned chairs with the seat backs that are ten feet high, and arrange all of the handsome ghost people in a big circle” like come on
that said there are also some slight LoTR vibes as well. “bring forth the ring, Deku”
I like how Six is sitting there with his feet drawn up all casual, but with his arms inexplicably sticking STRAIGHT OUT IN FRONT OF HIM and dangling over his knees like he’s doing some sort of zombie walk
apparently the Fourth wasn’t a big fan of shoes huh
interesting that All Might is the only one who’s still faint/indistinct, and and that Two and Three are fully visible
(ETA: the rest of my speculation about Two and Three has been moved into a separate post, the better to focus on the shit that’s actually happening in this chapter lol.)
and lastly, interesting that all of them are talking now, except for All Might (and I guess the Second and Third as well). to the best of my knowledge Deku hasn’t unlocked the Sixth’s quirk yet, so I guess the quirks don’t really have anything to do with it
oh and it looks like Deku’s mouth is still covered. I guess that’s convenient for the vestiges since we all know it’s hard to stop Deku once he gets going. but on the other hand it’s very inconvenient for people like me who wanted to see some interaction. alas
so First says that OFA’s power has grown a lot in the last four months (i.e. since Deku unlocked Blackwhip), and now the vestiges can communicate with each other as well as Deku
so even when Deku’s not around they can all just chill with each other. this is such a weird thing to me lol. like it’s cool, don’t get me wrong, but it’s also strange as hell to know that you’ve got eight other people hanging out in your head spying on everything you do and having conversations with each other about it. it would be like if Dark Shadow had someone to hang out with other than Tokoyami. good thing you weren’t triplets, Tokoyami
First says that it’s become easier for the vestiges to interact with Deku ever since TomurAFO barged into the OFA Domain back at Jakku. huh
(ETA: apparently this is because AFO forcibly pulled out OFA’s power when he was trying to steal the quirk, so I guess that makes sense.)
okay thank you Banjou for addressing this concern which I initially brought up as a joke, but which was apparently real enough for you to reassure Deku about
“don’t worry, even though we’re awake and hanging out inside of you at all times, we’re definitely not secretly watching and making fun of every single thing you do” hmmmmm
(ETA: “not that you could do anything about it even if we were, since you’re probably going to be the last OFA holder ever!” I don’t trust anything this asshole says lmao.)
OH SHIT??
YESSS DEKU now you can hold them accountable for all of their bullshit! because I do not doubt that there will be bullshit lol but let’s see how that goes
oh damn
well okay then. you didn’t have to stand up and walk over to him and loom all threateningly like that but okay sir
this guy has kind of a Kimimaro vibe to him. remember? that bone-growing guy from Naruto? except I’m pretty sure he had eyebrows. and wasn’t twenty feet tall. speaking of which, that explains the chairs
why are you wearing only 3/5ths of a shirt
lol what
someone’s gonna have to explain this to me. is he just redundant or something lol, or is he strangely poetical or what
(ETA: apparently HE’S MAKING A PUN omg. I immediately gained +10 love for him lol. also it flows a lot better in Japanese. this is one of the things Caleb is usually good at, so we’ll see what he does with the wordplay.)
omg the hermit theory is true!!
“I’M NOT WEIRD, IT’S SOCIETY WHICH IS WEIRD.” lol whatever you say buddy. also love how Banjou tried to give him a big hearty slap on the back but Hermit Boy was not having it lmao
IS HE TRYING TO CAPTURE HIM WITH BLACKWHIP
AND ACTUALLY, NO, SIR, AS A MATTER OF FACT, WE ARE NOT AWARE. SO SPILL!!
?!!?
okay my first response was LOL ARE YOU SERIOUS, THAT’S THE BIG SECRET!? -- and then it hit me what the significance of “died from old age... AT AGE FORTY” meant. at which point it was like “!!!!!” and then “OH, SHIT”
(ETA: there’s also an Iida joke here somewhere but I’m just too tired to make it.)
oh my god oh my god
did he somehow get a copy of the coroner’s report or something? like how does he even know that he died from “old age” as opposed to any number of other natural causes? ??
but anyway. so this is the quirk singularity coming into play then I guess. but then how come All Might is still alive and ticking?
(ETA: so this is one example of where this week’s translation is a mess lol. apparently the Fourth explains here that he didn’t know what the fuck he died from until All Might researched it. and it turns out there actually was an autopsy lol so there you go.)
so Fourth says he held OFA for eighteen years, and since he knew he would never be strong enough to defeat AFO on his own he basically just spent all his time punching rocks in the woods and training to power the quirk up
oh shit
is he implying that his body literally fell apart?? like that’s how he got the scars on his face? -- IS THAT WHAT KEEPS HAPPENING TO TOMURA, THEN. oh shit
DUDE
so you’re telling me that this quirk actively shortens the lifespan of anyone who uses it?? and my little boy here has had it now for a year already?? fuck me, I have immediately have a TON of thoughts about all this but let me save it until he’s done with his explanation
THANK YOU, DEKU
right?? how come All Might didn’t die then. even after he got injured. please don’t tell me he actually is dying still and is just being slow about it because I SWEAR TO GOD
what does this mean??
so what you’re trying to say is you all have NO FUCKING IDEA how long Deku’s gonna be able to hold this quirk before he SUDDENLY DROPS DEAD?! five generations ago this dude was able to hold it for eighteen years, and then four generations later All Might was able to hold it for thirty-odd years or so, and now Deku has it and you all have no clue which way it’s gonna go? actually this makes it sound like it really wasn’t OFA that killed the Fourth at all and you guys are just really bad at forming hypotheses. but since you’re making a big plot point out of it I guess it must be true
and don’t think I didn’t notice the part where you said you didn’t have OFA very long and then “died while fighting”, Firsto. I want to hear more about that. specifically who you passed the quirk onto before your death
and yes, if we are agreeing that OFA was the cause of the Fourth’s death, then the conclusion on this next page is the natural one to draw
so that’s a bit of a relief then, because Deku is quirkless too. so it means he won’t be able to hold OFA forever (and will probably have to find another quirkless person to pass it on to), but at least he won’t be randomly dying out of the blue next Tuesday or something
oh my god now he’s talking about OFA and AFO and user consciousnesses and all sorts of good theory stuff but it’s so much exposition. you’re really gonna make me read all this lol
wait what. why would All Might being quirkless have anything to do with the presence of his vestige in OFA Outer Space Party Land
but Deku is also quirkless and he’s clearly visible and chatting with you guys. so what gives. like how much of this is verified fact and how much of it is you guys just shrugging and making stuff up lol
SERIOUSLY, GUYS
BUT DEKU IS ALSO -- you know what, never mind sob. none of this shit makes any sense but whatever
(ETA: seriously, this all seems like an awful lot of speculation on their part. for Deku’s sake I sure hope they’re right.)
FSSKDJFLSKLKJLKJL ALL MIGHT IS FIFTY-FIVE?!
lol that’s a full ten years past my closest estimate, wow. but this pretty much confirms his age now at last! or at least confirms it within a couple of years, because we know All Might and Nana met when he was in middle school, and he presumably had the quirk by the time he took the U.A. entrance exam. so yeah. gonna go with fifty-five
so they think that because All Might was quirkless, OFA was better able to adapt to his body and became his true quirk, as opposed to being an extra quirk that stacked on top of the one he already had and overwhelmed him. ties in back to the whole “AFO used to bend people to his will by forcing quirks on them” thing, as well as the “Noumus are all mindless because of the strain of having multiple quirks”
Two and Three are really ruining the serious vibe of this scene here lol
they look like they’re doing the counting for hide and seek
and is this Deku talking now? I was about to get mad at First for implying that quirkless people are somehow freaks, as opposed to “normal” people jdslk
so in other words, don’t go giving it to your best friend all casually for shits and giggles, Deku. even if it would make a really cool climax for a movie. well shit. maybe that’s why they were so quick to nope back into Deku’s body afterward
so First says that because quirkless people are becoming rarer and rarer, the fact that All Might just happened to stumble upon Deku is “nothing short of a miracle.” which, yeah, that was definitely a stroke of luck there. being quirkless saved his life. but being quirkless is also part of why he was chosen in the first place, and we’ve always known that much
“in other words, kiddo...”
looks like there was some hurried clone stamp usage going on here lol. but props to RHA as always for putting this scan out so fast, especially given how exposition-heavy this week’s chapter has been
“anyways, that was the main topic” ARE YOU SERIOUS. there are like ten other topics imma need you all to get to here, people
(ETA: seems like this is a mistranslation; the line should actually read something more along the lines of “and now for the main topic.”)
FFFFFFFFF
“ENJOY YOUR CLIFFHANGER THIS WEEK.” dskfalkjlkjwlgkjl you really went and dumped this discourse on us yet again. fucking...
(ETA: forgot to mention, but as several people mentioned, this seems to be another mistranslation -- rather than asking Deku to kill Tomura as though it’s doing her a personal favor, Nana is asking “will you be able to do it.” in other words more of an “are you capable of doing it” type of thing. which is a very reasonable question to ask given that Deku is, well, Deku.)
anyways, and the answer is obviously going to be “no” of course. this isn’t going to end any differently than when the previous Avatars all told Aang to kill Ozai. but I guess it means we’re in for a fun conversation next week
so Nana looks pretty grim here though (nothing at all like the person who once taught All Might the importance of saving people with a smile), and I’m wondering if this means she believes that her grandson is already beyond saving. as in killing him would be a mercy, as opposed to him continuing to live with AFO bending his mind and body to his will. except if that is the case, I think she’s underestimating Tomura’s own will. and definitely underestimating Deku’s will to save
and also, just... I’m so fucking sick of AFO screwing the Shimura family over, honestly. this is exactly what he wanted. well fuck you, guy. you don’t get to have what you want. go out there and save Tomura, Deku. for his sake and for Nana’s. give them some hope. do your thing, boy. can’t wait for your big speech all about it next chapter lol
#bnha 304#midoriya izuku#all might#ofa prime#ofa iv#idk what his name is I forgot it already lol#the actual forty-year-old man#bnha#boku no hero academia#bnha spoilers#mha spoilers#bnha manga spoilers#makeste reads bnha#ofa the first
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now accepting boyfriend applications.
based on my fic idea: you’ve just become newly single, in a drunken fit, you posted a status indicating you’re accepting applications for your next boyfriend. Oddly, three boys take you up on that; sending in their most professional resumes for the position. It seems there’s some fierce competitors.
next up: literature
It hurt, why wouldn’t it hurt. Your boyfriend of almost two years dumped you over text message with no warning and his reason? He just wasn’t feeling it anymore, what the fuck. Well, twenty phone calls, a hundred text messages sent to him, and a pretty nasty voicemail. The moment you realized just how crazy you were being was when you began pounding on his door at almost ten at night. His neighbors poking their head out to stare, and it really smacked you in the face how stupid you were being.
So you threw caution into the wind. it’s a Wednesday night, your first class tomorrow didn’t start until noon and you’re literature teacher was more of a lecturer so she probably won’t notice if you’re hung over. If anything, you could always ask the guy next to you for the notes.
Thus, you decide to throw back shots to your heart’s desire, sitting in the middle of your tiny studio apartment, on your bed to scream and cry at the romance movie. Love is dead. You groan loudly when your neighbor knocks against the wall, trying to tell you to promptly shut the fuck up.
Halfway through the movie, your mind is already swaying. Your throat stings just momentarily and you sip your cheap wine in hope it’ll dull the shots you had taken previously. When the male protagonist kisses the beautiful female of his dreams, you promptly chug the rest of the wine in your glass. Upset at their love, you wrap your lips around the tip of the wine bottle, drinking straight from it.
“I can find someone better.” You’ve reached a different point in your post break up sadness, you were mixed with anger, sadness, and an overall feeling of I’ll find someone with a better dick.
It’s never a good decision to post on social media while drunk, but it’s a great decision right now. You were going to post a ‘newly single’ status. Just to be nice and not spam everyone, you think you’ll just post it to your private account for your five friends to see. You’ve clearly neglected that step when you press post and it uploads to your public twitter account.
The urge to hurl takes priority over the sudden notifications on your phone. Your hair disheveled as you’re trying to hold onto the toilet, hold onto your hair, and throw up at the same time. The romance film comes to an end once you’ve fully emptied your stomach. You shove all the things off your bed, food falling onto the floor, empty bottle of wine rolled under your bed, remote lost somewhere. You fall asleep despite your cell phone going off.
The alarm jolts you, it causes you to scream, your palm slapping the snooze button and you aggressively pull the wire so that it comes out of the socket. Your head is throbbing and your cell phone is ringing at the same time. Annoyed, your hand stretches along the bed trying to find your cell. When you come emptyhanded, you sit up. Your hand steading the pulsing of your brain and you spot your phone ringing and vibrating on the ground.
“What?” You spit out, not bothering to look at the contact as you try to block out the sun.
“What do you mean what?” The voice snaps at you, “You post about boyfriend applications all of a sudden, did you guys break up?”
Of course he would be the one calling you, the person who loves gossip more than you do, “Tooru, can you like shut up for a second.” Your brain is dying and he’s over here trying to get the latest dish on your love life, “He dumped me okay.”
“That asshole.” He gasps, “Do you want me to come over?”
You look at the time on your cell briefly, “No. I have class all day. If you’re free later?”
“Of course!”
The phone call ends and rather than getting ready for the class you have in an hour, you’re checking your notifications. You have about twenty missed calls from Oikawa, another thirty text messages from him, he even left a voicemail; god he must have been desperate. Facebook is bland, you spent most of your time on Instagram deleting the photos of your now ex, and rarely do you ever get Twitter notifications. Oddly, you have fifteen notifications; all coming from your public account.
haha, boyfriend applications are official open. only taking serious apps lol
“No.” You sit up.
It wasn’t your post that freaked you out, it wasn’t that somehow it ended up on your public account, no you could delete it and pretend as if no one saw it but people saw it.
Is she serious?
If she is, I’m down.
What does serious applications mean?
Three comments, five likes, and four retweets.
And three unread messages.
Your finger rushes to delete the tweet before it can be retweeted even more by random classmates. All was good now. Your finger presses onto the message icon, you’re confronted with the icons of three of your classmates.
The most recent is from Miya Atsumu, a terrible flirt in your biology class. He chose the seat next to you in lab when his friends ditched him and hoarded their own table. He spun around in his chair, shooting you a cheeky grin when you briefly looked at him.
His first sentence was, “Hey you’re cute.”
And yours was, “I have a boyfriend.”.
You skip over his message upon spotting his use of sweetheart in the preview.
The next icon is of the guy in your intro to business class, Kuroo Tetsuro. The first time you saw him was outside of the classroom, you two ended up accidentally reaching the doors at the same time. He lets you go in first and the both of you chose the seats farthest from the board, and closest to the door. Despite his bed hair that made him look like he was going to sleep the entire class, he was a rather studious guy; chill but smart, he was a business major after all.
“Did you understand anything he was saying?” You murmur to him as you grab your bag.
“Of course!” He states, “I don’t look at twitter on my laptop when he’s lecturing.” Ah, he caught you.
Your eyes briefly scan the preview, he’s saying something about a resume and you think he’s talking about the homework assignment. You’re about to click on his first when the last catches your eye.
It’s from Akaashi Keiji. On the first day of class, you were late due to waiting in line for coffee. You awkwardly opened the door to the classroom, everyone turning to stare, and you lower your head, choosing a random seat that now you’re stuck with for the rest of the semester because that’s just how college works. The professor goes over the syllabus and suddenly announces that the person sitting to your right will be your revision partner for the semester.
“Hey.” You stop him and for a brief minute you feel your heart skip a beat because he was absolutely pretty, “Sorry, I’m Y/n. Since we’re going to be partners, do you want to exchange info?”.
“Uh. Sure. I’m Akaashi Keiji.”
“I’m going to be late for my business class. Do you have twitter?” You were never a fan of giving your phone number out. Before he can answer, you’re scribbling your username onto a piece of paper, placing it on his desk before running out to catch your next class.
His message is brief: Did you get my email?
You click his message first; it must have been urgent if he messaged and emailed you. There’s nothing else to his message, his previous one dates almost a week before his current one, telling you that he finished reading the book you recommended and that he enjoyed it.
The screen is pulled up with your finger, alternating apps to your personal email. The subject of his email simply reads Application.
Curiously, you click the attachment he’s sent with no body text. Your jaw dropped, hand placed over your open mouth and a small scream emitting.
“Is he fucking serious?”
His name is displayed at the top, along with his birthday, star sign, zodiac sign, age, even the pronouns he uses. There’s a short sentence under it. I am submitting an application for the position of Boyfriend. You’re internally screaming, blinking fast hoping that this was a joke but his ‘application’ reads like a resume. It lists his education from middle school to his current, his previous jobs, his skills, and his own personal goals for the future.
Your blushing profusely, you want to pull your hair, scream, even throw your phone but you shove down the feelings that want to have you die of embarrassment. You don’t have the energy to sadly explain to him that you were drunk and weren’t serious; ugh and you’re going to have to continue seeing him for the rest of the semester.
You revert back to twitter; your heart suddenly drops when you think about Kuroo’s message. Quickly, you pull up the messages, clicking his and suddenly you want dig yourself a grave because he’s sent a link to a pdf and it’s simply titled Resume. He probably used a resume template and never changed the title.
And sure enough, it’s a fucking professional resume declaring the certain skills he has to be your boyfriend. In fact, like the professional business major he is, he includes a letter of intent; indicating his reasons of interest for the position. It details the little quirks he finds cute about you. You want to break your phone in half with how red in the face you feel.
As you exit his message, you’re slowly praying that Atsumu’s message is just a random flirty comment that he occasionally likes to throw you once in a while or perhaps you’re hoping that he fell in a ditch and you won’t have to work with him for the rest of the semester since he almost blew up the lab station last time.
Nope, it’s a link to a google document. Oddly, you click it. Your heart has sunk to the pit of the earth because when you open the document, you see his fucking name in the upper right corner indicating he’s still on the stupid document.
Fuck fuck fuck. You’re running away from the document, aggressively leaving the page but it doesn’t help that when you end up back at your twitter messages, you can see the three dots, telling you he’s typing.
Morning sweetheart hope you enjoy the app
He sends it with a flirty wink and you stare at it for five full minutes. Curiosity gets the best of you and you click back onto his link, he’s no longer on the same document and you sigh safely. For someone who’s barely passing biology, his document was rather professionally detailed. Damn, he’s on the school’s volleyball team? Weirdly the page cuts off halfway, you continue to scroll until the next title page boldly states: Bedroom skills.
It didn’t help that you were scrolling a little too fast and caught sight of an image showing off his toned upper body. There goes his professionalism.
Your phone suddenly blares low battery, your screen turns black and now your anxiety is through the roof. You jump on your bed, trying to plug in your phone and you’ve just now realized that it is thirty minutes until your first class starts and it is literature. You’re scrambling to find your laptop, you trip on the bag of chips from last night, awkwardly trying to stand as you reach for your school bag.
“Shit!” You scream. You suddenly remember letting your stupid ex-boyfriend borrow your laptop.
You fall to the floor, fingers pulling your hair as you suddenly think about the deep shit your in. First, your boyfriend dumped you, now you randomly have three guys who sent you applications to be your next boyfriend and you’re still going to have to see them for the rest of the semester if you reject them. Lastly, you’re going to have to go to your ex’s place to get your laptop after having made a scene yesterday, and your phone is dead so you can’t cry to Oikawa about the deep shit you’re in.
#haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#kuroo x reader#atsumu x reader#akaashi x reader#haikyuu scenarios#atsumu scenarios#kuroo scenarios#akaashi scenarios#kuroo#atsumu#akaashi#kuroo tetsurou#atsumu miya#akaashi keiji#hq#hq scenarios
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[CN] 3rd Anniversary Love Carnival - Shaw
🍒 Warning: This post contains detailed spoilers for an event which has not been released in English servers! 🍒
Shaw’s Prologue: here
3rd Anniversary Masterlist: here
[ PART ONE ]
The moment we step into the amusement park, I see that a small stall not too far away is surrounded by people.
MC: That place seems very crowded...
I lift my head, noticing that curiosity has also surfaced in Shaw’s eyes.
With a slight curl of his lips, he tilts his chin towards the front.
Shaw: Let’s take a look.
In front of the small stall--
Shaw: ...why’s this thing so popular?
Shaw frowns, unable to comprehend what’s before him.
Frog eyes, bows, bee feelers... the stall is filled with all sorts of headbands.
Couples are bantering with each other while selecting appropriate styles for the other party.
Shaw bends down, leaning towards my ear--
Shaw: Don’t they feel silly wearing those things?
I find myself chuckling. Then, I hurriedly retract it. When I realise that the people around aren’t paying attention to us, I respond softly.
MC: Don’t you see how happy they look? Also, these headbands even come with earmuffs, and can keep one warm in winter.
Looking at how furry the earmuffs are, I feel as though wearing them would definitely keep me very warm.
Shaw: It’s not even cold today... Are you cold?
I shake my head.
MC: Even if it’s not for keeping one warm, it’s so cute just to wear them.
I walk forward. After sweeping a glance over them, I select a headband, wearing it on my head.
MC: Isn't it cute?
I turn to look at Shaw, and the white halo on the headband sways gently along with my action.
After looking me up and down, his brows arch slightly.
Shaw: ...I think--
Boss: Cute, cute!
The boss of the small stall shoots me a thumbs up. Then, he takes another headband from the rack, recommending it to us enthusiastically.
Boss: Cute girl, these two come in a set. If you buy them together, there’s a discount!
I look at it, noticing that the headband in his hand has two red horns which are sparkling and emitting light.
Shaw glances at it too, his eyes revealing some distaste.
After some thought, I make a decision.
MC: No need, I’ll just get this one.
I point at the headband I’m currently wearing, rejecting the boss’ suggestion with a smile. However, he doesn’t give up.
Boss: Consider it again? A handsome man and a beautiful woman - if the two of you wear them together, it’d be very matching!
MC: There’s really no need.
Faced with the boss’ repeated suggestions, I remain vehement, sticking to my principle of “only buying one”.
As Shaw listens at the side, his brows become increasingly furrowed. In the end, he can’t help but speak.
Shaw: You don’t want to wear it with me that much?
MC: Of course not.
Laughing on the inside, I pretend to make a surprised expression, waving my hands in front of him.
MC: I just think you definitely wouldn’t wear it. After all... you said this was very silly, right?
Shaw watches me quietly. After two seconds, he suddenly speaks.
Shaw: Did I say that?
MC: ?!
This time, I’m genuinely shocked. I didn’t expect him to take back what he just said. He actually didn’t admit what he had done.
Shaw: Even if I did say it, that was just now. It doesn’t reflect my present thoughts.
He says this with self-confidence. Seeing that I’m speechless, Shaw averts his eyes leisurely, turning to the boss in a good mood.
Shaw: Boss. How much for two?
[ PART TWO ]
For the first ride, Shaw pulls me towards one of the main attractions – the U-shaped roller coaster.
While seated, I grip the safety bar tightly.
As though sensing that I’m slightly nervous, Shaw leans over, his tone teasing.
Shaw: It’s all right. If you’re scared, just scream. I promise I wouldn’t laugh at you.
I. Don’t. Believe. That!
Keeping my expression blank, I keep my eyes forward.
MC: What a joke. I’m not scared at all.
Shaw: Really? How about this. Let’s make a bet. Whoever exclaims first will have to accept a punishment. How’s that?
Seeing the unconcealed challenge in his eyes, I nod, refusing to appear weak.
MC: Sure! I’m not scared!
Everyone else: Ahhhhhhhhh–
Both the exclamations from the crowd and the U-shaped roller coaster are tossed to the skies. The strong centrifugal force causes my heart rate to speed up as the coaster moves to and fro.
I shut my eyes, gritting my teeth–
I’m determined not to make a sound!
As though he guesses what I’m thinking, Shaw’s voice is suddenly at my ear.
Shaw: Just scream if you’re scared–
I respond to him loudly.
MC: I’m not scared–
The gradually increasing inertia and gravity tosses us to and fro, and it’s so fast that it’s as though even our shadows can’t keep up with us.
My hand subconsciously flies in the air, and I cling onto something subconsciously. Instinctively, I grip it tightly–
??: Mm–!!
When we return to the ground, I seem to have been given a second life, my face glowing and radiant.
MC: It’s finally over!
However, Shaw’s expression is in clear contrast to mine. The earlier excitement is completely gone from his face.
With a dark expression, he twists his wrist.
Shaw: You’ve got quite a lot of strength…
A little embarrassed, I release a soft cough. I didn’t think that the thing I had grabbed in my frantic state was actually Shaw’s hand.
Shaw: Say it. What do you want me to do?
MC: Huh?
I hesitate for a moment, then realise that he’s referring to the bet earlier.
MC: Just forget about it…
Looking at the indistinct nail marks on Shaw’s hand, and out of the kindness of my heart, I decide to divert the conversation topic. However, Shaw has no intention to do so.
Shaw: Do I look like the type of person who doesn’t keep his word? Since I promised you, I’ll do it.
Given his insistence, I no longer decline. So, I hold my chin and start thinking.
What kind of punishment would be good? After some thought, I shoot him a brilliant smile.
MC: First, lower your head. It isn’t convenient at this height.
Shaw is stunned for a moment. He frowns, his expression a little odd.
Shaw: Are you thinking of…
MC: Also, close your eyes.
Shaw’s expression turns even stranger. He seems to be somewhat uneasy, but still does what I say and bends down, shutting his eyes tight.
Shaw: You’ve got quite a number of tricks up your sleeve…
Hands behind my back, I shift nearer to Shaw.
Sensing my closeness, his brows twitch slightly.
With Shaw’s face so close to me, I chuckle–
Then, I reach out to give him a flick on the forehead.
Shaw: [hissing in pain] Ss–
Shaw’s eyes snap open, and he looks slightly muddled and lost.
Witnessing this rare expression, I rein in my laughter, nodding in satisfaction.
MC: You’re always flicking my forehead. This time, we’re even.
Shaw: …
MC: …what’s wrong?
Shaw: …very good. Just you wait.
[ PART THREE ]
Because of the sheer number of people in the cafeterias, Shaw and I decide to buy some food from the small stalls to fill our stomachs.
He places the big bag on a bench, taking out two character-shaped snacks.
After comparing them, Shaw hands me the one decorated with pink bows.
MC: What’s this?
Shaw: You’ll know if you eat it.
Saying this, he sits down beside me.
Even when it comes to things like this, he wants to keep one in suspense. While grumbling in my heart, I give it a bite. Sweetness fills my mouth in an instant.
MC: …bean paste bun?
I look at the bun in Shaw’s hand which he’s also taken a bite out of, and realise that it has minced meat in it. Curious, I ask him:
MC: Why does yours have minced meat stuffing while mine has bean paste stuffing?
Shaw pauses.
Shaw: Huh? Don’t you girls like eating sweet food?
A twinge of confusion flashes in his eyes. Giving it some thought, I try to explain.
MC: People’s tastes can’t be generalised. For example, no matter when or where, I like eating minced meat.
Shaw: …how troublesome.
Shaw mutters, then splits the meat bun into two, giving half of it to me.
Shaw: Take it.
Stunned, I look at the bun in his hand, and don’t take it.
MC: I wasn’t asking you to share it with me… Is half of it enough for you?
Shaw: There are other snacks in the bag. Also, I wasn’t that hungry to begin with.
MC: In that case… I won’t hold back!
I happily accept the meat bun. After taking a few bites, I release a contented sigh.
MC: So delicious!
Shaw: It is?
Shaw’s brows arch, and he looks at the meat bun in his hand.
Shaw: I think it’s average. It’s just a normal bun.
MC: This is something you don’t know. When you share food with someone, it becomes even more delicious.
I shoot him a confident smile.
After a pause, Shaw shrugs, not expressing an opinion.
Half of the bun is finished quickly. Shaw lifts up his Cola at the side, twisting off the bottle cap. Just before he drinks it, he pauses.
Shaw: Oh, I’ve won a prize.
His indifferent tone is mixed with a hint of satisfaction.
Leaning over to take a look, I discover that the words “One Free Bottle” is written on the bottle cap.
My heart stirs, and I excitedly lift up the Cola by my side.
MC: I’ll take a look too–
Shaw: How is it?
MC: …
Silently, I twist the bottle cap back, and take a bite out of my meat bun. A light chuckle drifts to my ears.
Shaw: Looks like it isn’t anything much.
MC: My luck isn’t good this time, that’s all.
I pout, rifling in the bag for a cheese hotdog.
Just when I open my mouth to eat it, Shaw suddenly leans over, giving it a bite.
Shaw: Mm, the taste isn’t bad.
MC: …didn’t you say you weren’t hungry?
Shaw: I’m just verifying what you said. Looks like it’s true - when you share food with someone, it does taste a little better.
The corners of Shaw’s lips curl upwards, a flash of triumph flashes across his eyes.
MC: …you’re just toying with me, aren’t you.
Shaw: You’re not wrong.
He smiles, tossing his head back as he downs the Cola. Then, he hands the bottle cap in his hand to me.
Shaw: Here.
MC: What do you want?
Shaw: I don’t know if sharing luck will help you become luckier. Test it out for me.
[ PART FOUR ]
Ghost masks on sale are hung on the dark red wall. The masks have a sense of antiquity to them, and their bewitching and bizarre appearances look utterly terrifying.
Simply standing at the entrance of the haunted house makes one feel deeply frightened. And the rule of “Only one person can enter at one time” causes several people to shrink away.
Shaw and MC: …
Shaw: Got the guts?
MC: What’s there to be afraid of?
Shaw: You first, or me?
MC: …I’ll go first.
With a solemn expression, I prepare to enter. However, my wrist is suddenly gripped by Shaw, and he pulls me back.
Shaw: Wait. I’ll give you something.
I can feel him stuffing something into my hand.
Unfurling my hand, I see a string of Buddhist prayer beads laying quietly in my palm.
MC: …
Shaw: Have a pleasant journey.
In the pitch-black and narrow pathway, I bite the bullet and move forward at a tortoise’s pace. My hands continuously twist the prayer beads, muttering to myself.
MC: Whether you’re a monster, demon, or ghost, don’t come and scare me, don’t come and scare me…
Thud–
Footsteps sound from behind me, and the hair on my body immediately stands on end.
I’m rooted to the spot. After a few seconds, when I muster the courage to turn around, a hand plops onto my left shoulder.
MC: !!!
At this moment, my blood seems to freeze.
I quietly wait for two seconds, but nothing happens. Suddenly, there’s a twinge of hope in my heart–
Maybe it’s Shaw!
Thinking of how he usually likes to play tricks on me, I become even more certain of my guess.
With a deep breath, I give myself some courage and turn my head.
MC: Shaw–
??: Fuu…….
MC: …
MC: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH–
With a speed which human eyes can’t capture, I huddle and curl into a corner, using my hand to cover my left ear, sensing goosebumps spreading across my entire body.
Along with my heartrending exclamation, a stream of chuckles resound at the same time.
??: It’s me.
Silvery white electricity appears in the darkness.
The person who’s speaking walks over to me. He squats down, a smile hanging on his lips, looking as though his prank has succeeded.
Shaw: Who was the one who made a solemn vow that she wouldn’t be scared?
I glare angrily at the person before me.
MC: I knew it was you! When you deliberately scare someone, of course they’d be scared! It’s an instinctive reaction. Also, you can scare someone to death, you know!
Weakly and helplessly, I hug myself tight. My voice is also trembling slightly.
He seems to be at a slight loss. After a while, he speaks.
Shaw: …fine, I was wrong this time.
Perhaps genuinely feeling apologetic, Shaw pauses, his voice also a little more gentle.
Shaw: Hey, want to know a way so you wouldn’t be scared?
MC: …what is it?
I lift my head from my knees in curiosity.
He offers me a hand, his eyes crinkling slightly, filled with a wilful light.
Shaw: Follow me and they won’t scare you.
Shaw and I hold hands as we continue down this cramped pathway.
Because he’s by my side, I feel much more composed.
Female ghost: I’m~ Filled~ With~ Hatred…
All of a sudden, a hand plops onto my shoulder. Shaw and I pause in our footsteps.
I subconsciously tighten my grip on Shaw’s hand. In the next moment, I feel him returning the gesture with a squeeze.
Courage fills my heart. With this, Shaw and I turn around together…
??: IT’S A GHOST AHHHH–
Another shrill cry fills the pathway.
This time, however, the cry doesn’t belong to me, but to the “female ghost” with dishevelled hair.
Shaw extinguishes the electricity in his hand. He removes the ghost masks we saw at the entrance earlier, and laughs.
Shaw: If you want to scare me, you’ve got to put in more practise.
[ PART FIVE ]
Just as I’m vexed on which attraction to head to next, the blare of a trumpet, followed by an announcement, can be heard in the park–
The “Bumper Boats” ride is holding a competition, and the winner will be awarded a surprise grand prize.
My curiosity is piqued, and I drag Shaw over.
At the venue, I discover that the way this bumper boat ride works is pretty similar to bumper cars. It’s just that the road is replaced with water, and there’s an additional tool – water guns.
I shoot Shaw an expectant gaze, and he purses his lips.
Shaw: I’m not playing. This is far too boring, and not exciting at all.
Looking at the electronic screen displaying the rankings, I continue attempting to persuade him.
MC: But the person in first place will win a surprise grand prize…
Shaw: So what? I never do boring things.
15 minutes later–
Shaw: Hey, you’re way too stupid.
Watching as Shaw holds the water gun and sprays it at me from the front, I can’t help but grumble internally – he was so unwilling just now, but ended up having more fun than anyone else.
With agile movements, I dodge that stream of water, then raise the water gun in my hand.
MC: You should watch out. I’m going to get serious now!
Shaw grins, a dazzling light flashing in his eyes.
Shaw: Bring it on.
As time trickles by, and because of how furiously we’re playing, our names on the board keep ascending the digital board.
But this also successfully stirs up the fighting spirit of others. Suddenly, we’re surrounded by opponents.
Just as I prepare to launch an attack on Shaw, the boat is struck violently by another boat. Unsteady, I find myself smacked against the steering wheel.
MC: Ahh–!
Shaw and I take a look, and see a younger man with permed hair waving his water gun at us teasingly.
Younger man: Come on! The first place belongs to me–!
Shaw: Tch, he dares to hit my person. He’s doomed.
Shaw furrows his brow, upset. He adjusts the steering wheel, turning around to look at me.
Shaw: I’m avenging you. Why are you in a daze? Catch up quickly.
MC: …who’s in a daze.
After saying this, I turn the steering wheel, stepping on the accelerator–
But my heart rate subconsciously speeds up.
With the blow of a whistle from the staff, the competition draws to an end.
Shaw and I break through, seizing the first and second places.
Staff: Congratulations to the both of you! You have both won the surprise grand prize of this competition! You’ll have the opportunity to have a group photo with this park’s auspicious “Flame Dragon”!
Shaw and I stand in front of the Flame Dragon statue. After a short silence, he suddenly speaks.
Shaw: Don’t you find it boring to take a photo like this?
MC: What idea do you have this time?
After staring at me for a while, he suddenly chuckles softly, lifting a corner of his lips.
Shaw: This time, let’s not show our ugliest expressions. Let’s do something more surprising.
I can’t help but be confused.
MC: “More surprising”?
After saying this, the staff’s voice can be heard.
Staff: Get ready for the photo. 3– 2– 1–
Before I can think, Shaw’s face suddenly looms closer–
I subconsciously stop breathing. It’s akin to a tiny firework blooming at the tip of my heart with a “pa”.
Ka cha–
With the sound of the shutter, this moment is captured forever.
Fireworks event: here
#this is just a re-post of the love carnival translations!#I'm doing some mild renovations to the blog so don't mind me!#the previous translations were split according to parts rather than love interest which I find really disjointed!
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Death’s Imminent Door
A/N: I need more Eskel fics. That’s all. Also, writing prompt from @whumpster-dumpster “Kiss with bruised lips”. There was also, “Dying breath kiss,” and, “Kiss with trembling lips,” but I thought we’ll go for something more light hearted today. I thought, but let this be a warning that I’m not good at fluff. Unbeta’d as always.
Pairings: Eskel x Reader
Summary: You’re injured in a fight defending Eskel’s honor.
Word count: 1651
Warnings: Violence, blood, injury, language, hurt/comfort, fluff, angst, suggestive language, whump,
To be fair you shouldn’t have even been there. Eskel had long retired for the night and was peacefully sleeping in the room upstairs. You on the other hand wanted another drink. That was a mistake.
Everything was fine for the most part. You enjoyed a tankard, a drop of ale sliding down the corner of your mouth. There was a bard, not Geralt’s, singing in the tavern. Some song about sleeping with a goat or some sort of lucid dream the man had. You weren’t sure and at the time you didn’t really care.
“Just like that witcher!”
You sobered instantly at the mention of your partner in hand and trail. “What did you just say?!” you slurred, slamming your almost empty tankard down. A tremble shot up your arm but you shook it off, standing as tall as your drunk self could allow. “Say that to my face, bastard!”
“Oh it’s the witcher’s bed warmer.”
“With a dick as big as his, gladly!” You took large strides to the equally drunk man who had dared to taint Eskel’s honor. To your surprise he was the same height and of a smaller build. All talk and no bite. This fight will be easy...unfortunately for you, it was not.
“Oh, so you admit you spread your legs for that goat fucker!” the man yelled, spit flying out of his mouth. He stank of ale and week old hay, likely a local stable man.
“At least he’s not the one letting the horses outside fuck his ass open,” you shot back, an audience growing. The bard was strumming a tone played at debates and tense scenes in plays. He would have gotten on your nerves if you weren’t focused at the scum of the continent in front of you.
“What did you just call me?”
“Sorry, do you still have horse cu-”
Before you knew it a fist came in harsh contact with the side of your face. Too drunk to stay afoot you fall back onto the table behind you. A couple enjoying their date lept in surprise at your semi conscious figure on their dinner.
“Too busy getting fucked to learn how to fight?”
“No,” you stumbled out, standing on wobbling feet. “Just too busy riding your h-” Another punch came your way but this time you blocked it, twisting his arms and slamming his body on the floor. He groaned and choked out a sob, grabbing onto your unsteady leg. Pulling it forward he brought you down onto the floor with him.
Out of the corner of your eye as you fell, a barmaid scurries upstairs to where Eskel rests. “Already cheating on that witcher with the pretty barmaid?” the man brought your attention back to himself.
“I wouldn’t dream of it,” you roll yourself on top of him, straddling his torso and sending fist after fist to his face. Your knuckles were bleeding and he was screaming, bloodied face such a beautiful sight. It was a joy before someone roughly pulled you off of him.
“Get off of him, you bastard!” a different barmaid shouted, tugging at your arms and for some reason your clothes.
“Hold the fucker down,” the man on the floor ordered, slowly pulling himself together with whimpers. Blood was trickling down his neck and his clean shirt was red with it all. You couldn’t help but smirk at your handiwork.
“What are you smirking at?”
“I saw a big stallion in the stable earlier. You were brushing his coat awfully well. One could only think why-”
With the new barmaid holding you down and the man on his feet you really should’ve shut up but you couldn’t help it. His fists were smaller than yours but packed the same amount of force. While you enjoyed watching as blood coated his face, smiling even. He was getting angrier and angrier. Each punch was worse than the one before and that was prior to when he brought his booted foot into the mix.
Your groans began to fill the tavern but were mostly drowned out by the cheers of the crowd. The bard began a quicker tune, leaping up onto a table to dance. He twirled and sang like you weren’t being beaten to a pulp. The couple whose date you ruined joined the man in the fun, trading hits and cheers.
The ale in your system helped with most of the pain but you could feel your body going slack. Unconsciousness was edging it’s way into your mind. Sleep seemed like a blissful option in comparison to the beating, but waking up wasn’t guaranteed.
Oh wouldn’t that be a sight, Eskel waking up to take a new contract the next town over only to see your unmoving husk of a form on the floor. Dried blood coating your barely recognizable face, your clothes torn and ripped from your still body. You weren’t sure what the barmaid wanted with your clothes but she would probably take them off if given the chance.
He would be angry, livid really. Sobbing in the dead of night where no one could judge him. The two of you weren’t the type to constantly tell each other you loved them throughout the day. You showed that with actions. Helping him sharpen his swords, setting up camp, defending his honor in a bar fight.
Unable to bear to see his grief stricken face, you hesitantly opened your eyes. They were swollen, that was obvious even without a mirror. And the rest of you wasn’t fairing all that well either, but you were alive. That was something to be proud of.
“Oh look, the bed warmer is awake,” the man taunted, taking your tankard and pouring what remained over your head. The ale against your open wounds stung and you gasped, biting your tongue to suppress a scream.
“What are you stopping for? I want to mark up this pretty skin,” the barmaid snarled behind you with a grin. The tavern suddenly grew quiet. Even the bard stopped playing, stepping down from the table, his eyes never left what was behind you.
Your movement was limited but you managed to look over your shoulder. Eskel in all of his shirtless, disheveled glory was at the foot of the stairs, a glare and the remanence of potions evident on his face. His eyes were a dulling dark gray, the black veins faded but still present. Gods and whoever was listening you wanted him to stare you down as he took you against the wall. Unrelenting in his haste to finish and rough with need.
“Lovely evening isn’t it, love,” you greeted nonchalantly, unable to feel your legs.
“Care to tell me what happened?” Eskel asked in fake calmness. You have been with him long enough to know when he was seconds from stabbing the nearest person in the heart.
“Oh nothing much, love. Just some imbecile, horse fucker, baby killing, grime under my foot, bastard decided it was wise to call you some ill choice words in my presence,” you explained, your eyes drooping in an attempt to stay awake. You were alive, you told yourself. Eskel will be fine. You will be fine. Just a night’s rest and you will be as good as new the next morning.
“Would you like to tell me who?” his dark gaze swept across the room. Everyone was frozen in their place, smart enough to know when they were at death’s imminent door.
“Just her, him, and those two,” you gestured with your eyes but was unsure how much Eskel was able to catch. He could always smell the blood from their bleeding knuckles, so really you had no need to keep your eyes open. “That annoying bard had something to do with it but I can’t remember.”
You didn’t have the energy to keep your head on your neck and just let it fall. The barmaid dropped you immediately, but Eskel was quick enough to catch you. He grabbed onto you, his grip a little too tight in sensitive areas but he lightened his hands when he noticed the spike in your heart beat. A growl was building deep within his chest from the sight of your injured form.
“I recommend you run while you can,” Eskel spoke to the people in the tavern, already having memorized the faces and scents of the people you pointed out. He’ll give them mercy, a night before he ripped their spines from their backs and their egos from their groins.
“Can you stay awake for me, darling?” Eksel whispered to you, his arms underneath your legs and chest.
“Only If you’ll have me against the wall,” you mumbled, barely able to sense what was happening. Before you knew it you were in the inn room, a still warm bed underneath your aching body.
“Just open your eyes for me, darling,” Eskel forced out a timid chuckle. An ache grew from your chest, and not due to the beating. Your poor witcher was afraid you wouldn’t wake up when the sun came up. He had nothing to worry about. You could still feel the upper half of your body. That was something.
“Can’t get enough of my beautiful orbs?” you joked, your voice much weaker than you realized. Some job you did reassuring him, he sounded like he was about to cry.
“Never enough.” He planted a soft kiss onto your bruised lips. So caring in your injury, he made sure to not apply too much pressure onto the wounds.
Before you woke the next day, because you did, although a bit late into the noon, Eskel had gone out to hunt. Not for food, oh no. For sport.
Five bodies laid in the stables for the stable boy to see; the stable man, a couple, a barmaid and a bard with the neck of his gittern through his own neck.
#eskel x reader#witcher eskel#eskel#eskel fluff#reader#the witcher#witcher#witcher fanfiction#prompt#writing prompt#prompt fill#prompt fi#fanfic#imagine#violence#blood#injury#language#hurt/comfort#fluff#ansgt#suggestive language#whump#whump prompt
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Kiss Goodnight
Kiss Goodnight
Characters → Y/N & Bucky Barnes
Summary → Y/N lets Bucky in.
Word Count → 2.6k
Warnings → Angst, Self-harm, blood, injury. Lots of fluff in the end.
Beta → the superstar that is @princessmisery666 // all mistakes are my own.
Dividers → @firefly-graphics.
A/N → This for @distractedgemini challenge - the prompt was Just A Kiss by Lady A. Hope you enjoy!
Three am. A time for those in hope of finding a slither of peace when sleep prevails, emotions overrule, and thoughts run wild.
Bucky Barnes silently followed the strict lines of the corridors that lined the various quarters of the compound. His thoughts were erratic in comparison to his steady pace. He hoped that each carefully calculated step would subdue his fears, to allow him to sleep without the nightmares creeping in. It didn’t work half of the time, and the other half would usually involve him staring through the eyes of the Winter Soldier, carrying out the horrors he’d been trying to atone for.
Y/N was in the gym, punching the bag with all her strength; nightmares had plagued her sleep and guilt wreaked havoc on her mind. Her sloppy form paired with her overwhelming emotions had her hissing as the skin around her knuckles cracked apart. Regardless of the pain, she continued to pummel the leather as the wrappings turned red with her blood.
Whilst Bucky wandered his way through the main hallway leading to the gym, he heard the slapping of leather, and groans of frustrations. He watched her punch the bag. Y/N. He knew her sloppy form anywhere. But tonight, these punches were full of emotions. He’d offered on many occasions to help but she had continuously declined.
Sam had joked that it was because she was intimidated by him and his brooding glare. Bucky was certain it wasn’t the reason, he couldn’t put his finger on it, but he thought she liked him, or at least tolerated his presence. Over the last few months, he’d noticed her smile shining a little brighter when it was directed at him or her eyes glimmering with happiness as he joined her for coffee in the morning.
The whoosh of the automatic doors opening didn’t pull her attention completely but slowed down her assault. She peered to the right, using her peripheral vision to see who had entered the room. With no further movements heard she turned to come almost nose to nose with Sergeant Barnes. She gulped at the Super Soldier as she realised what a mess, she looked in front of the beautiful specimen before her.
“Sergeant Buc-Barnes. Sir, erm.” She stuttered around her words, breathless from her fight with the bag and the shock of seeing him. She stood to attention, internally scolding herself for her lack of togetherness.
Bucky hadn’t realised he had crowded her space until Y/N turned and looked straight at him. He almost faltered as he took in her appearance; puffy eyes, wild hair and her knuckles blood raw. His mind whirled with uncertainty; he’d invaded her personal space without considering that she might be battling her own demons.
“Bucky. At ease, are you okay?” He internally scolded himself; of course, she’s not! He watched her thoughts cross her features; confusion and, possibly, fear.
Y/N felt herself freezing at his question, she was nowhere near okay and she hadn’t expected the kindness at such a late hour. She didn’t want to talk about it, she knew Bucky had his own problems to deal with and she would be nothing but a burden. Her worries were nothing compared to what he had dealt with in his lifetime.
“S’okay doll, we don’t have to talk about it. But I’d recommend we fix your hands before you cause some serious damage.” Bucky nodded towards the bench and grabbed the first aid kit attached to the wall.
Y/N’s body shivered at his touch while he gently applied the ointment to the exposed flesh of her knuckles. She hissed at the sting and her own stupidity for taking out her emotions on herself, for not dealing with her pain and self-torment properly.
Bucky’s soft hum shocked her, and the way his thumb delicately stroked over her fingers had her relaxing into his touch, softening into his hands. “No bare-knuckle boxing for you, not for a week or two at least.”
Bucky gave Y/N a lopsided smile, but she couldn’t return it, tears formed in her eyes. The emotions couldn’t be held back anymore, and she just let them pour out.
Without hesitation, Bucky wrapped his arm around her shoulder and pulled her towards him. He surprised himself and stiffened at his actions, but the moment he felt her head burrow into the crook of his neck, he knew he would never let go until she wanted too.
Y/N’s hands clutched his shirt, her knuckles probably splitting open further under the harsh grip, but she didn’t care. Her body shook as the sobs escaped her, her hot tears falling onto the exposed skin of Bucky’s neck. Her hand snaked up his chest and gripped his t-shirt like it was a lifeline,
“I’m-mm s-sorry.” “I’m-mm s-sorry.” Her quiet shaky voice shocked her, but his touch soothed her, his warm hand brushing up and down her back was more comfort than she had ever expected from the soldier.
Bucky’s skin was electrified as his palm glided against the bare skin at her back, “S’okay, no need to apologise. Do you want to go somewhere more private?”
Y/N pulled herself away from Bucky’s embrace, embarrassment heating up her face as she stood up and tried to mask it by stretching out her arms.
His heart sank from the loss of her body heat. His thoughts focused on how he had reacted to Y/N’s movements, and he felt the tingle of a blush forming on his cheeks. He knew now that he didn’t want her to be physically away from him ever again.
Without a second thought, Y/N grabbed Bucky’s hand and pulled him out of the gym. He was full of surprises tonight, he let her guide him without questioning. She expected him to question her, put up a fight or something but he just followed her, his fingers intertwined between her own like they were meant to be.
Bucky followed blindly, a first for the assassin, being directed somewhere was very different from being dragged down empty corridors with no knowledge of the destination in mind. His heart hammered in his chest as they arrived in the residential quarter and she pulled him into her apartment. He’d never been inside her apartment before, always standing at the threshold as he called in before or after a mission.
Once inside, even in the dim light of the lamp leading them to the lounge, Bucky could see the personal touches Y/N had made. From the coloured wallpaper on one of the walls, to the bookcase stacked full of titles he’d never heard of and displaying photographs of the team, her family and friends. Nothing in the room screamed “Avenger!” or “Spy!”
Y/N guided Bucky to the corner sofa before dropping his hand to take a seat. She crossed her legs and pulled a cushion into her lap, holding it tightly to her chest. At his hesitation, she patted the seat beside her with an attempted smile. He saw the anguish through the fake smile and perched on the edge of the couch, turned towards her.
“I don’t really open up to people. Well, anyone.” Y/N started, her eyes down casted and she fiddled with the trim of the cushion, “I can’t stop thinking about what happened on my last mission.”
Bucky nodded, he’d had an inkling; she’d shut herself away for over a week and normally it only took a few days for Y/N to bounce back and prance around the compound in her bubbly way. He sank back into the couch, showing that he wouldn’t leave until she wanted him too.
“I could have saved them Buck.” She looked at him, tears in her eyes once more. “I know I could have, but I chose myself. I was selfish.”
His heart wrenched at the sight, she shouldn’t feel guilty for this, he leant forward, cupping her face with his hands, “Listen to me, Y/N. You have saved more people in your lifetime than anyone could have asked. You will feel guilty for those you haven’t but please try to look at all the good you have done. And think about what would have happened if you had gone back into that building, you could have jeopardised other people or gotten yourself killed. You made the right decision, even if you feel shitty about it.”
Y/N was taken aback by Bucky’s frankness, she had seen it when he spoke to the other Avengers, but she had never been on the receiving end. She looked deep into his blue eyes, only seeing his determination to make her see the sincerity of his words. She sniffled, and he loosened his hold on her face, his hands dropping to hers and holding tightly.
“You will feel guilty, you will hate yourself, you will feel the pain deep in your bones and feel that your soul is tarnished.” Bucky all but whispered, “But you have to keep going, you have to make sure you continue to protect, save and avenge those that cannot do it themselves.”
She squeezed his hands, and then threw herself into him, her arms wrapped tightly around his neck, “Thank you Bucky.”
Bucky leaned his cheek against her head, burying his nose into her hair, feeling content in her embrace, “Anytime doll. Have you got any hot chocolate?”
Y/N nodded, eyes sparkling with adoration rather than the pain that Bucky had seen since he walked into the gym. It made a warmth grow inside; he was able to bring a little bit of joy during her pain. He navigated towards the kitchen, giving Y/N one last check before he left her alone and was greeted with a smile that had his heart thumping against his chest.
With a belly full of hot chocolate, and marshmallows, Y/N sunk back into the cushions, relishing in the quiet that Bucky had brought to her thoughts with merely his presence and his authoritative tone as he put everything into perspective for her.
Bucky preened at the way Y/N’s body relaxed and her features softened from the frown and distress of her thoughts. He felt pride bubbling within, and he had to squash the grin that he wanted to beam in her direction. Even more so when Y/N rested her head on his shoulder and her fingers traced his Vibranium arm while the other wound around and held his hand.
Sleep was falling heavy against Y/N’s eyes, she wormed her way into Bucky’s arms, not that he put up a fight, and she knew that she would soon fall asleep if she wasn’t careful. Y/N hadn’t been this affectionate or open with anyone in such a long time, let alone this close to Bucky in the years she had known him.
Y/N lifted her head off of his chest to look up at him, his eyes closed yet she could tell he wasn’t sleeping from the way his eyes danced behind their lids, “Buck, I’m going to end up falling asleep here if we don’t move.”
Bucky hummed, and with a swift move, Y/N was pulled up into his arms and was being carried into her bedroom. The lamp flicked off and they were cloaked in darkness, only just making out each other’s silhouettes once he softly placed her down on the mattress, above the covers.
He curled up beside her, his body framing hers, his torso tight against her back as his arms wrapped around her waist. She felt the heat rising in her body, her heart hammering in her chest at the thought of him being so close to her. It felt so right to be there, and she knew that she couldn’t fight her feelings for Bucky any longer with him lying so close to her.
Y/N had always had a soft spot for Bucky, and it wasn’t just because of everything that happened with Hydra. She was not giving him a pity party, she genuinely enjoyed his company, as limited as it was. This was the longest and most intimate they had ever been, and she wanted to make the most of it.
A contented sigh escaped her lips and, in his half, asleep daze, Bucky pulled Y/N closer. His thoughts wandered to what this could all mean. He didn’t want to take advantage of her vulnerability. It might be a shot in the dark that she just might feel the same way, yet, deep down he’d always known that she was very important to him. More than a teammate, more than a friend.
She had always made his day a little brighter; the delicate smiles, the refill of the coffee pot with a wink in his direction, and the way she’d reduce the sound she’d make as she pottered around the lounge as he read the newspaper or a book. Bucky sucked in a breath; realisation dawned on him that this was something he didn’t want to mess up.
As if on cue, a mind reader to his thoughts, Y/N turned around to face him, her hand resting against his chest and his Vibranium arm remained wrapped around her. Doe eyes, wide with a tinge of fear and a small smile on her lips. He knew she was thinking about how to approach this and he nodded gently.
“I don’t want to push you.” Y/N’s voice was small in the silence. “I like you; I really like you, Bucky Barnes.”
“I really like you too sweetheart,” Bucky pressed his lips to her forehead, momentarily pausing to take in her words.
Y/N felt the weight of her secret lift off her shoulders, her body humming with excitement that he felt the same way. She relished in his kiss and gripped his shirt a little more. “We don’t need to rush this. Let’s just take it slow.”
Bucky backed away to look at her, a lopsided smile on his lips, “That’s okay with me doll.”
Y/N was enraptured by the glow of the moonlight cascading through the window and over Bucky. His soft gaze on her, she’d seen it a few times before, but she’d always thought it was one shared with the rest of the team, and his friends. At that moment, Y/N knew it was just for her, she brought her face level to his, their lips almost touching, she glanced up at him for his permission.
Bucky wrapped his arm tighter around her waist, and with his eyes closed, he dipped his head to the side. As soon as he pressed his lips to Y/N’s, he felt a rush of electricity jolt through his body. It left a smouldering burn in its wake as their limbs tangled together and their hands caressed one another over their clothes.
Breathlessly, they pulled away from one another. Y/N grinned up at him, a beam that he would never stop his heart from skipping a beat. Bucky cupped her face and pressed a light peck to her lips, her cheeks and then rested his forehead against hers.
“I don’t want you to leave.” Y/N whispered, her warmth breath against his lips.
“You need to sleep. I’m alright with just a kiss goodnight.” Bucky kissed her once more.
They untangled themselves from one another, and Bucky pulled a blanket over Y/N as her eyes began to droop against the pillow.
“Sweet dreams Y/N.” Bucky tucked the blanket around her and leant back against the pillow, letting the soft snores calm his racing heart.
He knew she’d be in his dreams tonight, and he couldn’t wait to see what morning would bring.
the end.
Everything Tag List: @reann-loves-sebstan / @aroyaldarknessblr / @thefridgeismybestie
Marvel Tag List: @natasha-danvers / @musesforart
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Reviewing My Top 40 Most-Played Songs: January 1 - July 2, 2021 (Part 1 of 5, #40-#33 & #16)
40. “Chesapeake” by Better Oblivion Community Center (2019)
“Even though there’s no one around
You broke a leg and the house came down....”
I’ve listened to this whole album A Lot these past few months. It’s good music, better lyricism, and superlative acting. I’m always impressed by a concept album that doesn’t market itself as such, and this....is that. I might be just a bit biased as someone who was already a pretty big fan of both Phoebe Bridgers and Connor Oberst, but the fact that their first collaborative effort as BOCC manages to match or exceed most of their individual works speaks well of their “stage chemistry”, so to speak. While I shan’t to speculate on the private lives of the performers, I will go so far as to say that Bridgers’ and Oberst’s portrayals of their respective characters on this album is engaging and compelling storytelling with a remarkable level of pathos and verisimilitude. And I mean they really sell it - I don’t think it’s overstating this album’s case to compare it to the Mountain Goats’ Tallahassee (2002) or Stars’ Set Yourself on Fire (2004) in terms of its synthesis of deeply humanistic romance-cum-psychodrama and witty, listenable indie-pop. This track especially stands out as an authentic and heartwarming/heartwrenching number about the way the distance between us and those we hold most dear can shift at a moment’s notice, with Phoebe Bridgers’ vocal performance especially standing out as one of the most authentically emotional in her catalogue.
39. “Televangelist” by Julien Baker (2017)
“Am I a masochist, screaming televangelist?
Clutching my crucifix of white noise and static,
All my prayers are just apologies....
Hold out a flare, ‘til you come for me....
Do I turn into light if I burn alive?”
When I first heard the above passage, the song’s final chorus, I’m pretty sure I immediately rewound the track just so I could confirm what I had just heard. has already been said by many critics, Julien Baker is a really good lyricist. This song’s portrayal of the angst associated with finding and questioning faith, trying to perform and trying not to, and interrogating the relationship between the factions of oneself that are one’s body, mind, and soul is....strikingly raw even in plaintext, and made all the more powerful by Baker’s impassioned line delivery and the track’s sparse musical arrangement. It’s rare that a song has an impact on me that is so immediate and so lasting. My personal feelings about the song notwithstanding, I think there’s something to be said for this particular number’s universalising character, also. Who among us hasn’t interrogated their own desires and motivations, as Baker’s narrator does here? And more to the point, who among us hasn’t done that again after hearing this song?
38. “The Bagman’s Gambit” by The Decemberists (2005)
“And from my ten-floor tenement, where once our bodies lay
How I long to hear you say,
‘No, they’ll never catch me now....
No they’ll never catch me....
No they cannot catch me now.’”
This song is over 16 years old now, but it’s a song I’ve only come to fully appreciate this year. I have mixed feelings about The Decemberists’ discography as a whole - often, I think, Colin Meloy is a bit too clever for his band’s own good, and his band is too damn good for some of his lyrics. That said, this song is a masterclass in lyrical storytelling - explicating only what the narrator needs to say, and implying just enough for the listener to infer what the narrator hasn’t the wherewithal to say. That, combined with the number’s Neutral Milk Hotel-esque bridge, its anti-folk aesthetic, and the sincerity with which Meloy portrays the lovesick, doomed, and (presumably) closeted Cold War-era DC beaurocrat, combine to make a song that I feel entirely comfortable calling the band’s magnum opus. If you haven’t heard it in a while, I recommend giving it another spin; it holds up just fine.
37. “Guitar Hero” by Amanda Palmer (2008)
“So what’s the use of going outside?
It’s so depressing when people die in real life.
I’d rather pick up right where we left,
Making out to Faces of Death...”
Alright. I’m not going to comment on the authorial intent behind this song and its subject matter, nor am I going to try to defend some of the language Palmer uses in its lyrics. I am Well Aware that my fave is problematic. But this is the song that gave us the line, “And I could save you, baby, but it isn’t worth my time,” which, frankly, is enough to make it a gem in my book. All of my comments here are based on my initial experience of a given song and the reasons I spent so much time listening to it. When I first heard this song, I heard it as a commentary on a dysfunctional-but-addictive relationship and the comparable destrudo-ific lure of rockstardom. And as far as that interpretation goes? It’s right effective. If you ask me.
#36 & #16 “Chinese Satellite” by Phoebe Bridgers & “Chinese Satellite (Copycat Killer Version) by Phoebe Bridgers and Rob Moose (2020)
“...but you know I’d stand on a corner, embarrassed, with a picket sign
If it meant I would see you when I die.
Sometimes, when I can’t sleep
It’s just a matter of time before I’m hearing things;
Swore I could hear you, through the walls...
But that’s impossible.)”
It’s hard for me to talk about this song, which is something of a comment on how much it’s influenced me. The number of mornings I’ve spent “walking around in circles” to this song is more than I could count. An awful lot has been said about Phoebe Bridgers and her songwriting in this past year, so it’s hard for me to say anything here that’s not already been said, but with regard to this song in particular, I’d like to point out the way the narrator ambiguates the nature of their loneliness by proceeding the line “...you know how I hate to be alone.” with “I want to believe; but then, I look at the sky and I feel nothing...”, suggesting a spiritual element to a song, which element is later reinforced by both the above quotation “...but you know I’d stand on a corner....) and references to the narrator’s subject having been “...screaming at the evangelicals”. These touches, along with the urgency with which Bridgers portrays the simple vignette of her narrator “walking around in circles, pretending to be [her]self”, make for a pop song that’s both catchy enough to hum along to, and thought-provoking enough to make a listener pause in mid-stride.
#35. “Plea” by Say Anything (ft. Kenny Vasoli and Hayley Williams) (2007)
“If you should go, right now (I slit this cut in the black, expanding sky...)
If you should go, right now (The rain bleeds out, before my jaded eyes...)
If you should go, right now (I slit this cut in the black, expanding sky...)
To live without your love....
I don’t know how.”
“Plea” is remarkably lacking in lyrical density, relative to both In Defense of the Genre (the album from whence it came) and to Max Bemis’ body of work in general. This isn’t a bad thing - its simplicity (along with the fact that it features two of aughties pop-punk’s superluminaries on top of Bemis’ own singing and songwriting) makes it stand out on the album as a deeply human longing, and, well....a plea. When Hayley Williams sings, “Make me believe you mean this!” over Bemis’ plaintive bridge-cum-”prayer”, the listener is compelled to follow along - to not only suspend one’s disbelief with regard to the content of the song, but to believe in the sincerity of the song and its creators. It’s easy and myopic to read of Bemis and his band’s work as pretentious or affected, but songs like “Plea” debunk this notion easily, by displaying a level of candour and vulnerability that is all-too-rare in The Genre At Large.
#34. “137″ by Brand New (2017)
“Before the Garden, when you were all alone,
You made the atom.
Was that some inside joke?
Open the gates, and then conceal the path,
‘Let’s load the gun and see how long they last.’?”
There was a period of about two between my discovering this song, in the first half of 2018, and my writing this today, during which I couldn’t listen to this song at all. Setting aside the complicated relationship many (current and former) fans of Brand New have with Jesse Lacey’s body of work, this song is heavy enough to discourage frequent or casual listening in its own right, as its narrator comes to terms with the impending end of their life (and everyone else’s) in an apocalyptic nuclear war. It’s grim, and unlike much of Lacey’s lyricism, it contains little in the way of comic relief, romantic sentimentality, or typical Third-Wave-Emo melodrama. Instead, its narrator’s sardonic, singsong meditations reverberate against guitar riffs that repeat their melody through a glass, darkly, and garbled fragments of radio or telephonic messages (ostensibly from the narrator or others in his situation). It’s by no means easy listening, and it could be argued that it’s too “grimdark” for its own good, but even so, it’s a triumph of modern rock that manages to stand out even amidst so many similarly distinctive cuts from Science Fiction.
#33. “Dark in Here” by the Mountain Goats (2021)
“Did you leave your house in order, when you came for me?
Is this really where you meant to be?
Just beyond your limits, find a new frontier;
I live in the darkness.
It’s dark in here.”
Not since 2015′s “Werewolf Gimmick” has John Darnielle portrayed so effectively so intimidating a narrator. As the Mountain Goats have surged in popularity lately (especially here on tumblr), there’s been a proportionate surge of critics calling John Darnielle’s songwriting “predictable”,and there is some truth to that allegation. However, I would argue that in the context of the Mountain Goats’ oeuvre as a whole, their consistency in form is more of a strength than a weakness, especially given the diversity of subjects about whom (or from whose perspective) Darnielle chooses to write. In “Dark in Here” (the title track of what is at time of writing their most recent album), Darnielle portrays an eternally headstrong fugitive, renegade, or partisan, hunkering down amidst a stockpile of ammunition in preparation for a last stand against his pursuers. Another artist might’ve delivered the song’s bitter jabs and desperate threats with more aggression, but JD’s increasingly measured and uncharacteristically stable intonation on this track lend the lyrics an aura of menace without which the listener mightn’’t have found them credible. “Dark in Here”, undoubtedly, sounds like a Mountain Goats song. That’s not a bad thing.
#music review#song review#better oblivion community center#julien baker#the decemberists#amanda palmer#phoebe bridgers#say anything#the mountain goats
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your wonder under summer skies (13/18)
Summer in Storybrooke, Maine means one thing for its residents: tourist season. This year, for Emma Swan and Killian Jones, it means relationships ending and friendships changing all the while they attempt to figure out just what their relationship is. It’s somewhere straddling the line between friends and lovers, and there’s no guarantee of a soft landing if they fall into new territory.
rating: mature
ao3: beginning | current
Tumblr: 1 | 2 | 3 | 4 | 5 | 6 | 7 | 8 | 9 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 |
-/-
“Okay, so I would recommend doing a buffet. I know a lot of people stupidly think that’s tacky, but it’s not. That way you have a constant flow of food and people aren’t sitting down waiting. The one thing you don’t want is people tapping their foot waiting for you two to be done with pictures so they can eat.”
“Do pictures take that long?” Liam asks.
“Oh my God, Liam,” Anna sighs through the phone, “we have been over this. Yes, pictures do take that long. This is a special day, and you’re going to want to remember it from every possible angle. Plus, you have to have pictures with family and friends, and it’s not a simple thing with a one, two click. Don’t you ever listen? I feel like you have to listen. You better be listening when my sister is trying to talk to you. She deserves a man who listens.”
“Anna, take a breath,” Elsa sighs.
“I don’t know how you’re planning a wedding with this man. I feel like I have to keep repeating myself.”
“You know,” Emma murmurs, rolling her eyes at Elsa, “there is also the option to have all of the pictures done before the actual ceremony. A lot of couples are doing that now. You can have private time with each other so that Liam isn’t seeing Elsa for the first time in front of all of these people, and it can also streamline the time between the ceremony and the reception.”
“But that first look during the ceremony is so special!” Anna whines. “You don’t want to miss out on that!”
Elsa looks up from her phone to look at Liam, and they seem to have some kind of silent conversation. Emma meets with different couples several times a week, sometimes several times a day, and while she’s used to there being questions and disagreements, she’s not used to have the bride’s professional event planner sister asking a million and two questions over FaceTime.
It’s fine, really. Anna is lovely, but she’s a lot to deal with. Emma is so used to spending time with Elsa and it being calm and soothing, so this is throwing her for a bit of a loop.
At least Liam is being nice. He’s been…kinder lately. Emma should question it when he usually likes to be a bit of an ass to her, but she’s not going to look a gift horse in the mouth.
Why did she just think that phrase?
Why is that even a phrase to begin with? Who is look a horse in the mouth? Why is it a gift?
“I think taking pictures before the actual ceremony sounds nice,” Elsa finally says, “and so does the buffet. Do you have servers or is it self-serve?”
“We have servers so people aren’t sticking their hands in the food.”
“Perfect. Can you remind me again of the contingency plan for if it rains?”
Elsa and Liam spend another forty-five minutes talking about different options and scenarios with Emma, most of that time spent talking with Anna and listening to plans, but eventually, they’ve covered everything they can and are ready to leave. Emma’s got an appointment with another couple in fifteen minutes, so when Elsa and Liam walk out of her office, she expects them to walk away and go back to work.
She decidedly does not expect Liam to linger around.
“Did you forget something?” Emma laughs, leaning against her doorframe.
“Oh, nothing big. Elsa simply forgot to ask if you were going to bring a date. Anna’s got her obsessing over making sure the envelopes are all addressed correctly, and for some reason she was tripping up over yours.”
“I promise you that I will not be weirdly offended if you guys give me an envelope that says Emma Swan instead of Emma Swan and guest. And tell her not to stress about that stuff. If someone gets offended over how an envelope is addressed, you probably don’t want them at your wedding to begin with.”
Liam chuckles and leans down against the arm of the chair that sits outside she and Mary Margaret’s office. “So, no date?”
“Eh, I don’t know. I’ve still got a month. Maybe I’ll magically fall in love again. Or at least meet a cute guy who would look good on my arm. Or, hey, maybe I can take Killian. He’s a good dancer, would be a hell of a wedding date. I feel like we should probably be each other’s default wedding dates at this point, you know?”
Liam’s smile falters, but it’s just for a second. If she wasn’t used to having to try to read him, she wouldn’t have noticed because just as quickly as it falters, the smile reappears. “He’s seeing someone, you know, so who knows? He might take her.”
“The same someone?” Emma asks before she can stop herself.
“I think so. You still don’t know who she is? I mean – you know, never mind. I told Killian I would stop interfering with his personal life, and I meant it. I can’t keep going behind his back and trying to get information from his friends.”
Emma arches a brow, and she takes a deep breath. Her heart is racing all of the sudden, and she desperately needs it to calm down.
Is this why Liam is being nicer? Because he and Killian had some kind of talk about Liam being too much into Killian’s business? She knew they got into an argument, but how does that translate to her?
Fuck.
Did Killian tell Liam that she was the one he was sleeping with?
No, no, that wouldn’t make sense. Then Liam wouldn’t be asking her if she knew who it was. He can be invasive, but he’s not about to go all FBI or something on her. And Killian wouldn’t do that. It’s against their rules.
“I think that’s probably a good idea on your part,” Emma sighs, pushing off the doorframe. “I don’t know if I’m bringing a date or not yet. Tell Elsa to stop freaking out over the little things, and if Anna gets to be too much, I’m always here to talk about the practical side of things.”
“Thank you for all of this, by the way.”
“It’s my job, but I’m happy to do it. Now go, Elsa is waiting on you, and I’m sure Killian is tired of manning the office by himself.”
“Please,” Liam laughs, “he and Skipper are probably enjoying the silence.”
“Yeah, but I wasn’t going to say that. I’m technically supposed to keep my clients happy. Once I’m off the clock, though, all bets are off.”
“I understand. Goodbye, Emma.”
“Bye.”
Emma waves him away, and as soon as he turns the corner down the hall, she sees her next couple. They’re early. They almost always are, and she thinks they might have the same enthusiasm as Anna does…if not more since they ask for yet another tour of the entire grounds because they’re just not sure of what exactly it is that they want yet.
It takes some kind of herculean strength not to scream since this is the fifth tour she’s given them, and their wedding isn’t until next July.
That’s a year that she has to deal with them.
A year.
Why does she do this again?
Oh, yeah, because most days it’s not that bad, and she usually doesn’t go down the wormhole that is thinking the entire wedding industry is a sham and wondering why people get married in the first place.
Is it for the wedding or the actual marriage?
For at least half of her clients, it’s only for the wedding. She’s obviously not some kind of expert on healthy relationships and only does this because she isn’t qualified to do much else that will pay her this well, but at least she knows that it’s fucked up.
When she finally gets the Taylors out of the club, Emma sighs in relief.
And her stomach growls.
It’s the middle of the afternoon, but she hasn’t eaten all day. Damn, she could go for whatever it is they served for lunch in the dining halls today, even if it’s probably cold right now. Emma checks her phone to make sure she doesn’t have any emails or last-minute appointments, and then she heads down the hallways and through the nearly empty main dining room to get to the kitchen.
Her phone dings in her hand, and she stops walking to look at it.
Killian: Why is my brother asking you if you’re bringing a date to his wedding?
Emma: He said something about Elsa being worried about how to address the envelope.
Emma: Wait. How do you know about that?
Emma: Did he tell you that I said I was bringing you? Because I was joking? Kind of. I don’t actually have a date or plan on having one, but you would technically be the most fun date of anyone in the city.
Killian: Why, Swan, are you asking me out?
Emma: Shut up.
Killian: I would love to go with you, for what it’s worth. I promise I’ll be a better wedding date than your last one.
Emma: That’s not much of a bar you have to leap over.
Emma: Do you want to get dinner tonight? I get off at seven.
She waits for the little bubbles to pop up immediately like they have been, but they don’t. Emma doesn’t think anything of it and stuffs her phone in the back pocket of her jeans and starts walking toward the kitchen again only to see Neal and his dad sitting at the table closest the kitchen entrance.
Dammit.
She should have gone through the back doors, but this way was closer.
What the hell is he doing here?
This is where she works.
Yeah, it’s a public place (if you pay a ridiculous member’s fee, which they unfortunately pay), but something being a public place doesn’t mean he can show up whenever he wants to.
This is her space, not his. They broke up, and there’s got to be some kind of unwritten rule that he simply doesn’t show up to her place of work.
He’s already always at Granny’s, which is bad enough, and then there was the fair and the one time she saw him when she had to go to Target for some new pillows.
But this? This is different?
They could have lunch at fifty different places, and the asshole knows it.
He also knows that she’s just spotted him because he’s staring right at her.
Shit.
Does she turn around and walk away or does she walk straight toward them, ignore them, and then head into the kitchen where she hopes Neal has the decency not to follow her in?
Emma doesn’t really get to make the choice, though, because Neal is standing from his chair and walking right toward her, the smile she used to love plastered on his face.
Was it always that disturbing? Did it always look so much like his dad’s?
“Emma,” he calls out. She bites her tongue. She cannot say anything dumb here. It could get her fired. His family are members here, and she doesn’t think Regina is going to give her a pass because of her personal business with them. In fact, she knows that she won’t. “Hey, how are you doing?”
“Wonderful,” Emma says. It’s not a lie. She’s not doing wonderful at this particular moment, but in general, she’s a lot better than she was the last time she was this physically close to him. “Are you enjoying your lunch? Is there anything that I can get you?”
His head tilts to the side, and his smile widens. “Oh, come on, Ems, you don’t have to be in work mode with me. We’re friends.”
Emma grits her teeth and takes another deep breath. She’s sure everyone in Storybrooke can hear them. Her dentist is going to be thrilled. “We are not friends, Neal. You ended any chance of that when you started sleeping with someone else and started working with your dad again. We’ve been over this, and I really don’t feel like repeating myself again.”
“You’re not still mad about that, are you?”
Seriously.
How is this the same man that she fell in love with? Was she blind to all of this? To how absolutely inconsiderate he is about so much?
“I don’t let you take up that much space in my head anymore, but you can’t honestly believe that I’m just going to forgive you for all that you did.”
His eyes roll. They actually roll.
He’s the one who fucked up, and he’s the one who is trying to act like they’re friends. Yet he’s also the one who’s exasperated by her pushback.
What an asshole.
“It’s not like you waited around long after you ended things before you started fucking Jones? And come on, you always told me there was nothing going on between the two of you, but that’s obviously bullshit.”
What the hell?
How does he…no, there’s no way that Neal could know. No one knows, and there’s no way Neal, who never paid any attention to the little things in her life, could know.
“I’m not sleeping with Killian,” she lies, “and even if I was, it would be none of your business since it would have happened after I left you.”
“I saw you two walking around at the fair, and he got fucking defensive over it when I suggested it to him. He didn’t say it, but come on, it’s pretty damn obvious.”
Emma swallows the lump in her throat so she can focus on her breathing. It’s the only thing she can focus on right now so she doesn’t punch Neal and knock all of his teeth out.
What an asshole.
How dare he confront Killian like that? Why did Killian not tell her?
You know what? It doesn’t matter why Killian didn’t tell her. What matters is that Neal is the worst.
“Neal,” she says slowly, her teeth grinding, “you lost any right to know who I am or am not sleeping with the moment you fucked someone else, so please, unless you need something from the club that only I can give to you, leave me the hell alone.”
He blinks, almost like he’s taken aback by her, and his smile falls.
Good.
“You don’t have to be a bitch about it.”
She opens her mouth, a curse at the tip of her tongue, but there’s a voice in the back of her mind that’s telling her this isn’t worth it. He’s not worth it. She’s got to stop letting him take up so much space in her head like she said she’s not. He doesn’t deserve it.
So, not for the first time, she walks away from Neal.
She walks away, knowing there’s only a half of a chance that he’ll bother to follow him, and she heads toward the kitchen. It means that she has to pass Neal’s dad, and she can feel his eyes on her.
The thing is, she doesn’t care.
That part of her life is over, and she’s not going to lie to herself and say that a part of her doesn’t still hurt and won’t hurt when she has to see Neal and Tamara, but she can’t keep dwelling on it.
This summer has been strangely good, and maybe it’s not all that strange since she’s cut Neal out of her life.
“Emma,” Harry, their head chef, exclaims when she walks into the kitchen, her heartbeat racing, “I’m just about to start dinner. Do you want something in particular?”
“What did we have for lunch? I can’t remember the schedule.”
“Pasta salad.”
“Do we have any of that left?”
“In the fridge. Feel free to help yourself.”
Emma picks up a cookie from the half-empty platter next to her. “You know that I will.”
“A cookie before dinner? Are we celebrating something?”
Emma laughs and takes another bite. “Just having a good day is all.”
“Well, kid, I hope that continues for you.”
-/-
“Hello?” Emma calls out as she pushes open the front door of Jones Brothers’ Boating. The obnoxious as hell bell goes off, so everyone downstairs should be able to hear that someone has come inside, but no one comes out of any of the offices, not even Skipper.
Huh.
“Killian,” she says as she starts walking down the hallway. “KJ! Are you around?”
There’s still no answer, and when Emma checks the back offices, there’s no one in any of them. She decides to walk up the stairs to the apartment, but when she tries to turn the knob, she realizes that it’s locked.
She’s got a key, could easily let herself in, but if the apartment is locked, that means no one is home.
Where the hell are they?
Emma pulls her phone out of her back pocket and hits Killian’s name. It rings once, twice, several more times, and then his voicemail message comes up.
Well, damn.
This is probably why she should have called first, but Killian never texted her back about the two of them getting dinner. He’s almost always free, and if he isn’t, they’re usually plans she can join in on, but he’s obviously MIA tonight.
Emma swipes through her phone again and calls Elsa.
“Hello?” Elsa questions.
“Hey, Elsa. Have you heard from Killian today?”
“He’s in the back of the ice cream shop. Do you need him?”
“Why is he in the back?”
Elsa groans, and then Emma hears some kind of curse that definitely didn’t come from Elsa. “One of my machines broke today, and when Leroy couldn’t fix it, Killian said he’d give it a go. I don’t think it’s working out for him. Hold on. Let me get him for you.”
“Oh, you don’t have – ”
“Killian,” Elsa yells, her voice booming through the speakers, “Emma is looking for you.”
“Fuck,” he mumbles.
Well, that sounds pleasant.
“I’m pretty sure she could hear that,” Elsa laughs.
“Aye, I know. I didn’t text her back about dinner. Give me the phone.” There are a few hushed murmurings, and then Killian’s voice comes in clearer. “Sorry, love. I’m afraid I can’t get dinner tonight.”
“Oh, well, that’s okay. I’ll pick something up and bring it to Elsa’s.”
She hears him click his tongue, and she’s probably imagining things, but she swears that he’s silent for a few seconds too long. “You don’t have to do that. We can do it another night.”
“It’s really not a problem. I’m at your place right now, anyways. I can get us salads from Zoey’s. Does that sound good to you?”
“Uh, yeah. That’s fine. I’m not really sure when I’ll have time to eat.”
“Well, maybe my brain power will help us figure out how to fix the machine.”
“Yeah, maybe.”
“You okay?” Emma asks, suddenly worried she’s overstepping here.
Does he not want her to come over?
No, that would be ridiculous.
“I’m perfect, love,” Killian sighs, his voice audibly more upbeat now. “I’ll see you when you get here, aye?”
“Yeah, see you when I get there.”
-/-
Elsa’s store is a mess.
Well, the front is still perfect. All of the round tables are clean and perfectly in their spots, the black and white as classic as it always is, and Elsa is still serving customers and doing custom orders for cakes and birthdays. She’s on the phone when Emma walks in, but she smiles and nods to the door that leads to the back of the store.
It is decidedly not perfect.
Mostly because it looks like Killian has taken one of Elsa’s machines apart piece by piece and he has no idea how to put it back together.
His hair is pushed off his forehead, sticking in at least thirty-seven different directions, and his t-shirt is sticking to his skin from his sweat.
He might be the only person to ever sweat here since it’s usually the coldest place in town.
Elsa’s air-conditioning bill must be insane.
“Hey,” Emma greets, putting their salads down on the table and walking up to Killian, pressing up on her toes to kiss him. He doesn’t kiss back at first, but then he’s there, his lips softly sliding over hers while his hand settles on her hip, squeezing her. “I’ve come to your rescue with food and another set of hands.”
“You’re my savior, love.”
“I know.” She kisses him again, this time much briefer, before sitting down on one of the chairs Elsa keeps back here. “Where’s Liam? Why is he not helping?”
“I’m better with fixing things. He’s manning the shop.”
“No one was there when I stopped by.”
“What time was that?”
“A little after seven.”
Killian nods and pulls his salad out of the bag. “He was taking Skipper out. Thanks for this, by the way.”
“Not a problem. You think you’re going to be able to fix this?”
“I think I’m nearly there. I’ve tested it out a few times, but it’s all been for naught. Elsa is going to bloody kill me if I keep giving her hope and then take it away.”
Emma pulls their salads out of the bag, taking the lid off hers and pouring some dressing on before putting the lid back so she can shake it. “She’s got the other machines, though. Can’t she still make flavors?”
“Aye,” Killian sighs as he starts tinkering with the machine, “and she’s got a pretty good stock of all of the flavors. It’s not an emergency, but she wanted me to look at it before she called someone to come fix it. It apparently does not come cheap.”
“Look at you coming to the rescue. Getting those brownie points.”
“And access to the freezer.”
“That will balance well with our salads.” Emma stabs some lettuce with her fork. “You will never guess who was dining at the club today.”
“Cindy Crawford.”
“What?” Emma laughs as she takes a bite. “Why would Cindy Crawford be there? Also, that is the most random guess.”
Killian pokes his head out from behind the machine. “You said to guess. You didn’t say it had to be reasonable.”
“Okay, a reasonable guess then.”
“August Booth.”
“No, but that would be interesting. Is he back in town?”
“I have heard the rumor. So, who was dining at the club today?”
“Neal.”
Killian drops whatever tool he’s using, and it bangs against ice cream maker before clattering against the floor and landing near her foot. “Fuck.”
“Exactly my thoughts,” Emma laughs, kicking the screwdriver back to him. “But, you know, it wasn’t that bad. He was an asshole, of course, but it felt kind of good telling him to fuck off. He told me he thought we were sleeping together, which he apparently told you at the fair.”
“Uh, yeah, he did mention that. I denied it, of course.”
“He was always jealous of you. I don’t know why, but he hated when we spent time together.”
“Well, love, I am devilishly handsome. That’s bound to make any man jealous.”
Emma rolls her eyes. She can’t see Killian’s face, but she just knows he’s smirking. “None of our actual friends have picked up on it, so there’s no way in hell Neal actually would. He doesn’t pay enough attention to me, never has.” Emma takes another bite and slams her hand down on the table. “But you know what? I don’t care. He can do whatever he wants, because I’m moving on. I’m happy and busy and life is pretty damn good even if I do have to take you as my date to your brother’s wedding.”
She keeps eating, waiting for Killian to say something, to tease her really, but she just hears him muttering to himself as he keeps working.
“You’re still cool with that, right? I know you said you’d love to, but you know, if you start dating someone else, go with her. I don’t mind going by myself.”
Killian pops out from behind the machine and walks toward her, leaning over the table and placing a soft, lingering kiss on her forehead. “There is no one I’d rather go with than you, love.”
“You don’t have to. Seriously. You know our deal.”
His beard scratches over her forehead, and he pulls away. “I know. I’d still be honored to go with you.” He sits down across from her as he opens up his salad. She gets distracted watching him. The lighting in here is all fluorescents, and it shouldn’t be flattering, but Killian’s tan still shows up, his eyes are still ridiculously blue, and there’s still something so charming about his smile. She watches it as it falls into a flat line, almost curving down into a frown, but then she sees the curve tick upward. “I’m glad you’re happy, Emma. I’ve always wanted that for you.”
She nods, unsure of what to say. “You too, KJ. You know what would make me extra happy?”
“What?”
“If you could steal me some of Elsa’s birthday cake ice cream later.”
“Your heart’s desire, love. That’s all I want you to have.”
-/-
-/-
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#your wonder under summer skies#cs fic#cs ff#cs fanfic#captain swan fic#captain swan ff#captain swan fanfic#captain swan
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Originally published at: https://eschergirls.com/photo/2020/04/22/totally-true-gender-science-pc-zone
From Jess Morrissette on Twitter (with permission):
"For some women, the 3D space and layout of an area in a game like Quake is not immediately obvious to them. Tunnels which lead off from a room, or even the entire architecture of the room, may be 'invisible.'" Source: "How to Get Your Girlfriend Into Games" (PC Zone, May 1999).
Holy s- this piece. And way to go with the "As your experiences in bed have undoubtedly told you, there is no bigger turn-off than a complete systems failure" part that seems to insult the presumed-to-be-male audience too? -_o And the "science" snippet that says women can't play FPSes because we can't navigate 3D space, but women are good at adventure games because women talk more than men... but remember gamer guys, don't complain about women being bad at things because you used to be a girl in your mom's womb once! Holy cow, PC Zone, not helping.
Transcription for screenreaders (big thanks to Bella (@MoviePosters00) for the transcription):
HOW TO GET YOUR GIRLFRIEND INTO GAMES
You've been playing games for years, but just imagine what they must look like from a non-gamer's point of view. They suck. The graphics are crap. Look out of your window — that's good graphics. These just look shoddy and blocky in comparison.
And what's with all the violence? Why do you have to kill everybody? Why can't you just talk to them? And what are these locations? Cathedrals? Dungeons? Catacombs? God, it's all so dark and depressing. And why are there so many blokes in these games? And what the hell am I doing spending hours playing this when I could be out talking to people, reading books, watching films, living life... This is how girls think.
Girls and games rarely mix. They rarely mix because you — man, boy, bloke, fellow, chap, me lad —you designed them.
Unlike most other examples of popular culture, computer games are predominantly designed and programmed by blokes and so inevitably appeal to men and the male tick-list of desirable experiences: being a superhero, being competitive, being murderous, and doing things fast.
Sure, we play the odd puzzler like Tetris. And yes, we can be found occasionally talking to elves in adventure games. But on the whole, we want violence, people's heads exploding, fast cars, big jets and gouts of hot arterial blood splattered against cobblestones. We want wars and vast armies of ourselves crushing other vast armies of people different to us into the dust.
She thinks: "Why play stupid computer games when you could be making me a cup of tea, paying me some attention, taking me out (or whatever your relationship revolves around)?"
You think: "Why waste valuable time attending to you when I've got to complete this freaking level?"
She strops. You grit your teeth. You feel bad about playing so you grab what gameplay you can in unsatisfying snatches, standing up every five to ten minutes and stroking her hair.
You say: "You okay?" She says: "Yeah. Guess so." You sprint back to your machine for another five-minute burst. Suddenly it's 2am. She's face-down asleep and you're having just one more go. Relationship: terminated.
Obviously, the ideal situation would be for both of you to like games. Those with PlayStations will probably have already experienced a touch of curiosity about games from their partners. But if the PlayStation is designed to be simple and appealing, the PC is a horrible beige monolith, forced to do games as an afterthought.
But it can be done. You can get your girlfriend playing games. We at PC ZONE have designed a 12-Part System. It takes some planning and no small amount of patience. We can't guarantee 100 per cent results but we believe, if you follow this plan, at the least, she will have some idea of why the hell you play games in the first place.
THE 12 RULES OF GIRLFRIEND GAMING
Step-by-step techniques for getting your girlfriend into games
1 CHOOSE WISELY
There's no point throwing her directly into Falcon 4 or Dark Reign II. Keep your game choices simple and realistic. Choose a game with strong interactive qualities and with real-life locations. There aren't, however, many good girl games on the PC.
PC ZONE chooses:
Half-Life
The hazard course is a particularly good starting point. It takes a while to get going but once they're hooked, they'll never stop.
Tomb Raider III
Despite what feminists say about her bosoms, girls like playing girls. Especially strong, agile ones.
Motocross Madness
Great driving game set 'outside', with hyper-realistic graphics. Exhilarating and amusing.
Creatures 2
Yeah, yeah, they "get to raise babies". Easy joke.
Worms
Because you can name the worms and then blow them up.
Quake II
Multiplayer especially. They'll hate it at first but try and try again. They'll get it.
Grim Fandango
Interactive, movie-like, funny, with a plethora of locations and mysteries. How much more girly can a game get?
Others (recommended by visitors to our website)
Puzzle Bobble, YOU Don't Know Jack, Baku Baku Animal, Civilization, SimCity 3000, Sam & Max, Broken Sword, Little Big Adventure, Settlers 3, Caesar IA Fallout 2, Zork: Grande Inquisitor
2 SET UP YOUR ROOM
Rule number one: tidy it. Rule number two: tidy it again (and vacuum this time). No-one wants their first introduction to games to happen in the midst of a smeg pit. Clear the mugs away. Wipe all those shavings and toenails off your desk. Clear the cigarette butts, bits of paper, Blu-tack and Coke cans out of the way. Get a nice clean mouse — not one clogged up with three months' worth of dried skin. Clean all those manky half-moons of crap off the keys on your keyboard, too.
Use Stanislavski's Circles Of Attention technique to minimise her distraction. Turn off the main light in your room and erect a side light which creates a pool of illumination around your computer. This makes the computer screen the centre of focus and mutes any peripheral distractions. In short, she has nowhere to look if she gets bored.
3 SELL HER THE GAME
Talk to her in language she can understand. Remember: you are a computer games geek.
She is a proper person who cares about things like emotions and novels. Don't use jargon. Ramp up any 'interactive' elements (talking, speaking, puzzle-solving). Play down hyper-violent aspects (flying globules of gibbage, explosions with true particles, realistic death throes). Once she's over her initial reluctance, she'll be as bloodthirsty as anyone, but you have to get her there first.
Half-Life
You want to say: "Next-generation first-person shoot 'em up with strong narrative elements."
You should say: "011, it's an amazing unfolding story with you playing the central character."
Motocross Madness
You want to say: "The real-time shadows are unbelievable and on Voodoo2 it uses tri-linear mapping for a super-realistic fractal landscape."
You should say: "It's really realistic and it's set outside."
Worms Armageddon
You want to say: "It's like that tank game you used to play in school where you'd enter the trajectory and balance it against wind speed."
You should say: "It's like Tetris."
TOP TIP If you're ever in any doubt about how to describe a game, just say: "It's like Tetris." Whatever you do, though...
4 DON'T OVER-HYPE IT
"Oh God, this is the best 3D shoot 'em up ever. The graphics are unbelievable. It’s such a brilliant game. It rules." Do not say anything like this or you'll create preconceptions. A game will have to have reality-quality graphics and the most involving storyline ever known to grab her after that sales pitch. To the uninitiated, compared to reality, a good film or a great novel, games - all games - suck and blow (at the same time).
5 HAVE A GOOD MACHINE
Don't waste your time trying to convert her to the Dark Side if you're packing a five-year-old PC with a green screen and Sinclair BASIC. Who wants to see a glut of piss-poor pixels masquerading as people and locations? Get 3D acceleration. And get it now. Get RAM. Get a nice big monitor and some meaty speakers. If you're going to use a joystick, get a big, firm one she can grasp (yes, insert crap joke here).
Get a joypad if you can. Remember, computers were never designed for games. It may be more versatile in the long term, but a keyboard isn't as forgiving as a joypad (plus you get to see her 'girl-steering' the pad in mid air when taking corners in racing games). The mouse is a brilliant 3D navigation device, but not at first and certainly not for someone used to pushing icons around a flat screen.
6 ENSURE EVERYTHING IS RUNNING CORRECTLY
As your experiences in bed have undoubtedly told you, there is no bigger turn-off than a complete system failure. Blue screen General Protection Faults are the gaming equivalent of a hair-trigger ("Oh sorry, I just GPF'ed"). Create a load of shortcuts on the desktop and configure keys/joystick/sound/video in advance - you don't want to stop the action over and over to adjust CD music volumes or the 'crouch' button.
Don't decide to check your email. Don't receive any phone calls. Don't schedule a clan match. Don't invite your mates over for a pissing contest. Make sure it's just you and her.
7 DON'T TAKE OVER
This is Five Gold Rings of the plan - the most important piece of advice. Resist the temptation to dominate proceedings. As she tumbles - for the fortieth time - headlong into the lava, do not snatch the mouse out of her hand and show her how it's done. Encourage. Encourage. Encourage. Every fibre in your body will be screaming for you to take the mouse - don't. Take a deep breath and count to ten. Better still, go outside and scream into a pillow (perhaps two. Eiderdowns). The more you interrupt and cajole, the less she will become immersed in the game and the more you will fail.
8 REASSURE HER
Like any newbie, she needs constant reassurance.
She says: "I'm crap."
You say: "No, you're not just schooled in the conventions of this medium."
She says: "Oh, I can't do it"
You say: "It took me a while to get the hang of it, too."
She says: "What's the point? I don't get it. I'm not doing it anymore."
You say: "There's a really brilliant bit coming up. Just stick at it."
She says: "I'm bored."
You say: "There's a bit like Tetris coming up in a sec."
She says: "Where's the bit like Tetris?"
You say: "It's coming in a minute, okay?
9 DON'T PATRONISE HER
"Ooh, you're doing really well," you say, as she dies on the Half-Life hazard course 50 times in a row. She's not stupid. She knows the difference between succeeding and failing. If she has developed black-ball trouble or a psychological block, change the scenery. Try a different game or a different level. Surreptitiously turn God mode on. Anything.
10 MAKE IT PART OF AN EVENING
Don't just announce that tomorrow night, you'll be playing computer games together. Or lock her in and force her to sit in your chair for hours. Go out for some beers first, or get some wine in, or whatever your relaxation method of choice is. Don't push it. Imagine this is like date number two or three. You wouldn't slap it on a tray and say "Let's go," would you? Maybe you would, but pacing and timing and bit of restraint are going to get you further.
Also, get some snacks in. PC ZONE recommended snacks for girlfriend gaming: Tooty Fruities.
11 POSITIVE REINFORCEMENT
It is a psychological fact that people will do things they don't want to if there's a reward for them at the end. You may have to trade. Say you'll go to see a film with subtitles with her if she spends an hour playing games. Or that you'll cook something other than corned beef curry. Or that you will finally pull out those dirty socks that are stuck like cardboard behind the radiator. There has to be a trade. You don't get something for nothing. Hopefully, to use an unfortunate comparison, like Pavlov's dog, every time she hears the ping of the SimCity 3000 menu options or the splattery fine red mist of giblets hitting cobblestones in Quake, she'll start salivating.
And finally...
12 DON'T BE SELFISH
Now you have succeeded in getting her as addicted to games as you are, you must nurture her interest. This means sharing your machine.
Remember, girls always win at beat 'em ups. You can revise all the best, most shimmery combos and special moves but she, just by randomly banging the joypad, will triumph every time. If you lose, don't tell her it was "a crap game anyway". Be gracious.
Maybe you should invest in another PC and set up a network. That way, she can play, you can play, and you can settle washing-up arguments with the railgun. Ah, bliss...
Oh, and don't forget to delete that porn.
AND NOW, THE SCIENCE BIT...
Blokes don't like talking about their emotions and girls can't park. Crass sweeping generalisations or statistically proven sweeping generalisations?
A variety of behavioural differences have been reported for men and women, and researchers have zoned in on 'parallel parking' as an example of the differences between male and female thought processes. Men can often 'see' the space, in 3D, in their brains. Women can perceive the gap, but need to talk about it in order to understand its relationship with the length of their car. They ask themselves questions and come to a conclusion, which takes longer than the male approach, which Is just to pile in there and use the alarms of the vehicles in front and behind to judge distances.
This car-parking phenomenon also has an influence on the way women perceive computer games. For some women, the 3D space and layout of an area in a game like Quake is not immediately obvious to them. Tunnels which lead off from a room, or even the entire architecture of the room itself, may be 'invisible'. This is not, as your grandfather no doubt maintains, because "women are stupid" but simply because they have a tendency to perceive 'negative space', the gaps between objects rather than the objects themselves.
The widely-held belief that women only like adventure games can be explained by recent studies, which found that women spend 43 minutes a day making personal calls and men only 22. Women speak, on average 9,000 words a day, while men utter a mere 2,000. Generally speaking, women communicate more and enjoy the act of talking and interacting more than men.
Anyway, before you start moaning about crap girl gamers or bad parking arguments, remember this: until six weeks into your mother's pregnancy, you were a girl. Then your defective X chromosome kicked in. Everything went haywire and for some reason your nipples weren't absorbed. Your clitoris, however, remained and grew and grew into your penis. Just remember that.
PUT TO THE TEST
We put PC ZONE's 12-Part System for getting your girlfriend into games to the test. We took a bunch of girls, various games, applied the system and tried to convert them to the Dark Side. Here's what happened...
NAME: Paula
AGE: 27
JOB: Make-up artist
STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES BEFORE: "Boring waste of time. A typically mindless male pursuit."
STANCE AFTER: "No different. The kind of thing you do in the absence of any other stimulation or activity. When you're trapped in the house and there's no alternative. It makes me want to go and read a book."
VERDICT: Thoroughly resisted conversion to the Dark Side.
NAME: Vanessa
AGE: 22
JOB: Model
STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES BEFORE: "I've only played PlayStation games before. I like martial arts games."
STANCE ON COMPUTER GAMES AFTER: "I really enjoyed them, but I still prefer games that get my adrenalin going."
VERDICT: Converted.
NAME: Mandy
AGE: 27
JOB: Hairdresser
STANCE BEFORE: "I've played puzzley games like Tetris. I get quite addicted, but how blokes can play them for hours or weeks strikes me as strange."
STANCE AFTER: "It's tempting once I get started."
VERDICT: Not much change
NAME: Emma
AGE: 24
JOB: Archaeologist
STANCE BEFORE: "They're all full of blood and violence. For boys who haven't grown up. I like building games like SimCity."
STANCE AFTER: "A bit disappointed you can't shoot people's legs off, but yeah, good fun."
VERDICT: Success.
NAME: Helen
AGE: 28
JOB: Stockbroker
STANCE BEFORE: "They are quite good, but far too complicated. A solitary, masturbation-type thing."
STANCE AFTER: "Yeah, good. I like them. Although I don't think I'm going to develop a habit or anything."
VERDICT: Our job here is done.
Quake ll
PAULA: "It's quite dismal. I don't have any sense of where I am. I'm just running around mindlessly. (Picks up some health 'biscuits.') Have those things disappeared because I picked them up? I don't know where I am. Am I trapped underground? Don't know where I've come from, don't know how to get out (she spends minutes shooting wall fillings). How do I know that's a door? I don't really understand the rewards. I get mild satisfaction from shooting someone. And blowing their head off."
Motocross Madness
PAULA: "I like the outside setting and the freedom. It's exhilarating to move over nice bumpy terrain. It doesn't look that realistic".
VANESSA: "I love this. It's more me. I love racing. The graphics aren't that amazing. I do like the crashes, though. It's wicked. I could play this for hours. It's brilliant. Wheeeeee (performs enormous, deadly cartwheel which should splatter drivers against the rockface like a plum). There's so much open space all over the place. I even like falling off."
MANDY: "It's a bit samey. What are you supposed to do? I like having race-oriented goals. I wouldn't buy it. It's got really weird, illogical controls."
EMMA: "Don't think much of the ground. How are you supposed to know where you're going? I've never been on a bike before... Oooh! I'm doing a wheelie! (The girls clap.) Why is it so sunny? It wouldn't be sunny. It'd be all muddy, like on KickStart, with people standing around who you could hit."
Pacman
PAULA: "Immediately challenging, but there's a really depressing quality about it. The `so what' factor is very strong. The graphics are shit - just lines and dots on a bit of paper. Don't care whether I win or lose. (Indignant) How old is this game?"
Half-Life
PAULA: "Much more exciting than Quake II. More problem solving - more appealing in that sense. The tension is greater and there's more suspense. The usual dismal, claustrophobic setting. It makes me feel anxious and tense. Ah! Ah! (Genuinely screams loudly when she sees a zombie.) That's horrible! I get bored when I go round and round in circles. It makes you aware of how mindless it is. It's quite satisfying - oh (plummets 10,000 feet to her doom) but it's quite satisfying to kill a bizarre monster."
VANESSA: "Feels more real than on the PlayStation. It's quite exciting - all these holes to jump through. It's exciting to use all these fingers. I hate it when I lose. I love guns. I like holding the gun. I thought I just came up the ladder. Why should I go down again? I wish something more exciting would happen. This is boring."
MANDY: "This is good. I like this. I like the fact that you're making progress. I'm excited. I like the way his arm moves (she ducks to avoid low pipes on screen). Quite impressive, but I couldn't play it for hours."
Grim Fandango
HELEN: "Superb. I like things like this. I like shooting things, it leads you into the scenario. You have to find something, secret things (she is getting visibly excited). There's a mystery. That gave me a rush of pleasure (she finds the way out of the first room). That looked like it should do something. I want to go back and see."
EMMA: "it's the kind of game where you'd suddenly realise it was 2am and you had to get up for work in the morning. I like the music that's on in the background."
MANDY: "There's so much more to see - it's a lot more interesting to look at. I like the detail. You're not just doing the same thing over and over again. It's good because this isn't the kind of game where my boyfriend could phone me up to brag about his high score. Yeah, he does that"
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Misunderstood (P3)
네가 정크 푸드를 먹고 있어서 그는 불행할 거야. He'd be unhappy because you're eating junk food.
Description: 8 months after starting work as Soonyoung's secretary at Starlight Entertainment, the feelings you have for Soonyoung only continue to grow. When you accidentally end up confessing to him, will he respond and let you into his life or shut you out? Will what you've seen and learned about him in the past eight months be enough?
Warnings: Swearing
Genre: Angst, Fluff, CEO!Soonyoung/Hoshi x Fem!Reader
Word Count: 5.8k
Seventeen Masterlist | Masterlists
2 months later
"Late morning, sir?" Seungkwan's voice seeped through the office door.
"Something like that." Soonyoung replies.
I raised my head when the office door opened and Soonyoung walked in dressed very formally. I stood to greet him.
"Morning, (y/n)." Soonyoung beat me to words, "Sorry for being late. I had an appointment."
"Morning." I took my seat again and briefly looked at the calendar, "It wasn't written here."
Soonyoung shook his head, setting up his desk for the day, "It was a last minute thing."
I nodded slowly, "Is it the reason you're wearing formal wear and making me look lazy in the process?" I joked, looking down at my simple but clean outfit.
"Partly yes." Soonyoung answered but quickly rephrased, "I mean, I needed to wear this for the appointment and something I have later on tonight but you could never look lazy. You always look great in your outfits."
My shoulders straightened slightly at his comment. "Oh, thank you."
"Some days, even, I feel like you out-dress me. Which makes me look lazy." He rambled on, trying to make up for something.
I laughed, "That's a pretty high compliment coming from the CEO of Starlight." Straightening a stack of documents, I head over to his desk with the papers and a notepad. "These are the finances from the previous quarter's releases and debuts." I informed him and sat in one of the chairs in front of his desk.
Soonyoung took the documents from me and flips through them before nonchalantly setting them aside. "Our schedule for the day?" He asked, leaning forward, expectantly. I don't know when he started calling it 'our schedule' but I noticed it about a couple months ago. Though every time I try to ask about it, he does what he does best and skirts around it, usually changing subjects. So I decided to just stop asking.
"Let's see." I opened my folder and pulled out the day's schedule, "There's a meeting in 20 minutes about Starlight's finances.”
Soonyoung sighs heavily, "Boring."
"That's what you always say, yet you always pay so much attention in those meetings." I countered but before he could reply, I moved on. "Then you immediately go into rehearsals for Basics and that new group who's name you still have to finalize. They also requested lunch with you so I've arranged for some sandwiches to be delivered to the practice rooms for that."
I glanced up and saw Soonyoung pouting and looking down at his attire which is not fit to be in the practice room.
I nodded towards the closet in the corner, "You seem to forget that you have at least two changes of clothes in there for times like these."
His face lit up at the reminder and I shook my head. Sometimes I believed that if I wasn't around, the poor man would forget his head somewhere.
"What's after all that?" He asked, leaning back in his chair.
"Well, because you were late and missed your 9am meeting, I moved it to 3pm." I read off, "Then after that, there's nothing."
"Great!" Soonyoung suddenly exclaimed. "How would you like to go out with me tonight?" He asked, shocking me into silence.
I cleared my throat, "Uhm, it's not Thursday, Soonyoung. We usually go out on Thursday nights." I said nervously, wondering why the sudden change.
He shakes his head, "It's not Thursday, but we can still have dinner together, no?" He tilts his head to the side in question.
"I mean, yeah, I guess so." I answered, "Where would you like to go? I'll make the reservation."
Soonyoung shrugged, "Wherever you want to go. You pick tonight." He smiled warmly.
I smiled back, though my mind was racing trying to find a suitable place. "I will do that. Anything else?"
"You want more than dinner?" He asked, shocked. "I mean we could also do dessert but that might be a lot of food. And it might be late when we do, are you sure you can stay up that late?"
I chuckled, "I meant about your daily schedule."
He chuckled too and then shook his head.
I took my leave to my desk but halfway there, Soonyoung suddenly remembered one last thing.
"OH!" He exclaimed and I turned on a dime to face him, "Can you go check up on Alissa Kim and her recovery? And maybe bring her some flowers?"
"We can do it together, later." I reminded him, "You don't have any meetings after 3 and I'm sure she'd love to talk to you in person and not just your secretary."
His mouth dropped open in a small 'o.' "Good idea." He gave me a thumbs up and I walked back to my desk.
"Order flowers." I wrote on a notepad as a reminder.
After some minutes of silence, Soonyoung moved out of his chair.
"Aren't you coming with?" He asked when I didn't move from mine.
I shook my head, "Not this time, unfortunately. Seungkwan asked me for some help on a few things."
Soonyoung's shoulders sagged ever so slightly I'm surprised I even caught it.
"And the rehearsals?" He continued, ignoring the remaining time before his meeting which ticks away.
"I will try but I can't stay for the entirety of it." I answered, "Your job may be chunked off, Soonyoung, but mine never slows."
"Well, remind me to change your job description then." He commented.
"You don't have to, I actually enjoy it a lot." I told him before noticing the time, "Now go before you're late for the second time this morning." I shooed him out of the office as he chuckled.
Once the office door was firmly shut behind him, I took my seat again and let out a breath.
Why would he all of a sudden want to have dinner with me? And the disappointment when he heard I wouldn't be joining the finance meeting. Did I imagine seeing the disappointment? He couldn't have been that disappointed when I said I wouldn't be going, could he? And what last minute appointment could he have had without telling me? Maybe he didn't have time to tell me? No, he always tells me about his schedule if it effects his schedule here. So where was he?
During the past two months, I have done well at keeping my personal feelings out of the workplace but just watching him work and the way he treats his employees makes the feelings continue to grow.
"I've got to stop reading into things." I mumbled to myself before shaking out my shoulders and looking at the new emails that have popped up.
"Reading into what?" Seungkwan's voice appeared in the office making me jump and scream in fear.
I spun around to see him standing half in the door with an apologetic look on his face.
"I didn't mean to scare you." He apologized quickly.
Holding a hand over my heart, I shook my head. "I'm fine. You just snuck up on me."
"You scare easily, don't you?" He observed and made his way to my desk.
"Very." I told me then looked at him in warning, "But don't you ever tell Soonyoung that. He'll take advantage of it and one day you may end up visiting me in the hospital."
Seungkwan let out a loud laugh, "Soonyoung wouldn't do that. Not to you. He cares too much." He said, casually.
I paused for a split second, wondering what he meant by his last statement. 'He cares too much.' About who??
"So can you help with the project?" He continued on as if nothing was wrong with what he had just said.
"Uh, yeah." I watched as he grabbed one of the chairs near Soonyoung's desk and dragged it all the way over to my desk. "I think I can mess with the schedule enough to make it happen."
"Are you sure it's going to be okay for me to take that many days off? I've never done it before." Seungkwan worried.
I nodded, "Yes, it's going to be okay. Your sister's wedding is absolutely a reason to take a week off. Plus like you've said before, I'm here now."
Seungkwan gave me a warm smile and wrapped me in a hug, "You're the best."
...
"I have a reservation under (y/n)." I told the hostess when we reached her station.
The restaurant rumbled with the conversations and clanking of silverware but wasn't extremely busy. I was thankful for that considering I was walking around with the CEO of Starlight Entertainment who I also seemed to have a growing crush on. Liking for? Whatever the appropriate term is.
"Right this way, please." The hostess smiled, picked up two menus, and started walking into the restaurant.
As we passed the kitchen, the warm scents of sharp spices and nutty sauces filled my nose and sent my stomach into a spiraling realization of how hungry I actually was.
"Is right here okay?" The hostess asked, gesturing to the table tucked away in the corner.
"Perfect." I told her and she set the menus on the table before heading back to the front of the restaurant.
"I've never been here before." Soonyoung looked around while blindly placing his jacket on the back of his chair.
I took my seat and glanced around as well, "It's been a few months since I was here but it's one of my favorites." The restaurant has changed decors slightly to match the concurrent season but other than that, it was practically the same.
"If it's one of your favorites, what do you recommend?" Soonyoung sat and opened up his menu, scanning the options.
I opened mine, "Would it be cheesy if I said the whole menu?" I glanced at him a playful smile on my lips.
He tried, and failed, to hold back a laugh and nodded, "Very cheesy. But I'm not complaining."
"Then, the pastas are really good and the steak is also excellent." I offered, ignoring the last part.
"What are you gonna get?" He asked, continuing on the path I'd chosen.
"I think," I paused and scanned the pages, "I think I'm going to get the shrimp pasta. It's got lots of veggies." I smiled happily. "What about you?"
"The braised chicken looks good." Soonyoung leaned back, arms outstretched, like an old man reading his morning newspaper.
"Evening." Our waiter walked up to the table with two glasses of water and set them down in front of us. "My name's Bomin and I'll be your server tonight. Are you ready to order?"
I nodded, "I'll get the veggie and shrimp pasta, please."
"And I'll have the braised chicken." Soonyoung added.
"What would you like as a side?" Bomin questioned, "We have a side salad, mashed potatoes, grilled green beans, or steamed vegetables."
"A salad would be great." Soonyoung smiled, brightly.
"And anything else to drink besides water?" Bomin asked the both of us.
"What kinds of wine do you have?" Soonyoung wondered.
"Oh, I apologize for not having that menu ready for you, Mr. Kwon." Bomin bowed apologetically and pulled out a folded sheet from his apron, "Here are our wines for the season."
I glanced at Soonyoung with a "are you serious?" expression but he was too busy reading the wine menu to notice.
After a couple seconds, he frowned. "Who am I kidding? I'm not a wine connoisseur." Then he leaned forward slightly. "Would you pick one for us?"
Bomin nodded, "Two glasses?"
I put a hand on Soonyoung's arm for a moment to stop him, "Actually, I won't be drinking tonight."
"Why not?" Soonyoung questioned.
"It's a week day and I have to go back to the office later to finish up some things." I informed him.
"Just one glass, then." He said and Bomin nodded before walking away with our menus. "But we drink on Thursdays?" He wondered, turning towards me.
"We do. But it's usually when we're completely clocked out." I told him, "Which I am not currently."
"We have a driver so if you're worried about driving..." Soonyoung reminded me, trailing off.
I shook my head, "I gotta have a clear mind for work."
"Is the work too stressful?" He asked, suddenly very concerned.
My eyes widened at the fact that he would even think that, "Not at all!" I waved my hands in emphasis, "It's a personal choice. Alcohol hits me pretty easily."
Immediately the concern was wiped away and replaced with teasing. "So you're a lightweight. And to think I thought you could handle your alcohol seeing as we drink together weekly."
"And here I thought you'd never been here before yet our waiter seemed to know who you are." I raised my eyebrows at him, throwing his joke back at him.
He raised his hands in surrender, "You caught me." He placed a hand on his heart and bowed his head slightly, "My apologies if I have offended you. It was just fun to see you get excited about this place."
"No offense." I told him, "Just tell me next time."
"You got it." Soonyoung nodded curtly just as our waiter returned with our food and his wine.
...
"Can I ask you something?" I set down my fork, my stomach full to the brim with pasta, shrimp, and veggies.
Soonyoung rested his forearms on the edge of the table, fork and knife still in his hands, "Shoot."
"Why don't you correct them?" I questioned, a dull feeling a deja vu rising.
"Who?" He asked, popping another bite of chicken into his mouth.
"The articles that say you're mean, angry, and selfish." I clarified and watch as his chewing slowed down considerable.
"You could always correct them. There's nothing in any company policy or contract that says you can't." He swallowed and took another bite as if my options were obvious.
"I don't do it because I wouldn't ever do anything you didn't want me doing. And it's clear you don't want to fight the articles so I don't." I explained, "But I'm serious, Soonyoung. Why don't you? They're straight attacking you and your character."
After swallowing, he laid down his fork and knife before wiping his mouth with his napkin. "Because they're not entirely false. And at this point, it'd take too much money and time to correct the situation."
He lifted his wine glass to his lips and took a careful sip. 8 months ago, the stark contrast from the media portrayal of Kwon Soonyoung and the actual Kwon Soonyoung would've shocked me to my core. But now, it just made me worry about how that portrayal was effecting him.
"Plus this way," He swirled the wine around in the glass and stared at it. "I get the best of the best trainees. The ones who know about my 'reputation' and who are still brave enough to join my company because they want this career more than anything in the world."
"I don't think any of what the articles say is true, you know." I said going back to a previous statement of his.
He smiled sadly, still staring at his glass. "Then you don't know me."
"Soonyoung." I turned my body more towards him, "I have worked with you for eight months. I have seen you every working day from literally dawn to dusk sometimes. And none of those articles are true. You aren't mean or angry, you're confident and really good at your job. Sometimes a little too stubborn but that stubbornness has gotten you where you are. And you are nowhere near selfish. You are honestly the most selfLESS man I have ever met. I don't know of any other CEO who personally checks on his trainees on a weekly basis. And not just to check their progress but also their mental and physical health."
Soonyoung chuckled but the sad undertone still lingered. "You don't know what I'm like from sunset to sunrise." He stated.
Before I could stop myself, my heart took the reins, "What if I wanted to?"
He looked at me, eyes searching for any signs of a joke being played. I stared back and hoped I didn't just make a complete fool of myself.
"You." Soonyoung finally spoke, "You want to know that side?"
I nodded, lips sealed together, too afraid I'd say the wrong the thing if I used my voice.
"Why?" He wondered.
I took a deep breath, "Why not?" I started, "I've come to enjoy your presence, your personality, and well, you. The way you had only known me for less than a day when you decided to cut off all business with Mr. Park because I was treated poorly at his company."
"That should've been done years ago." Soonyoung interjected.
"But I was the final push to end it." I continued. "And the way you care so intensely for all of your staff and trainees. Worrying about their health to the point of almost panicking when one is hospitalized. Much like a father."
"Anyone would do that." He interrupted, seemingly not wanting to believe my words.
"No. Not just anyone would do that." I argued with him then continued, "You celebrate each of your artists' comebacks and debuts as if they've just won the biggest award of the year."
"None of those explain why you, (y/n), want to know why I say the rumors are not entirely false." Soonyoung shook his head.
"Because I like the man I've seen everyday at work. I admire his ability to ignore the articles and do what he does best: care for and support others." I stated. "I enjoy seeing the little knick knacks that no one else gets to see. The little jokes you throw that no one else understands. Right now, I have your days. Well, most of them. But I want the nights. I want to see who you are when the company ID is not on your immediate person. When your mind isn't focusing on everyone but yourself. I want that Soonyoung too. Not just the CEO version." I finished softly.
"And what if you don't like that Soonyoung?" He questioned, glancing away like if he saw me say the answer, he wouldn't be able to handle it.
"You mean, what if I find the articles to be true?" I rephrased his question and he simply nodded. "From what I've seen, you're not even half of what they claim you to be. Even if you are a little selfish, mean, or angry outside of the company, anyone would understand. Your life's in the spotlight. Your marriages and subsequent divorces were messy and publicized. Anyone would be angry about that. No one wants a messy life. And who knows, maybe you'll be the one who doesn't like non-secretary (y/n)." I shrugged, reality sitting smugly on my shoulder.
"That'd be impossible." Soonyoung whipped around and countered.
"How do you know?" I questioned, "I could be carrying the weight of four divorces and am just hiding it." I joked.
Soonyoung's eyes widen in shock, "Do you?" He lowered his voice and leaned closer, a hint of belief could be heard.
I smiled and giggled, "No, if I went through four husbands in the span of my life so far, I would say I'm a very messed up person."
He let out sigh of relief then glanced at his watch. "Oh shit, it's already 9pm."
"Already?" I snatched my phone from my purse then cursed under my breath when the clock surely reads 9:06pm. "I gotta get back to the company."
Soonyoung only nodded as I stood up. "You go ahead, have Sam take you and then tell him he can go home."
"What about you?" I worried, hands resting on the back of my chair.
He raised his half full wine glass, "I think I'll finish this wine and then take a taxi home."
I shifted from one foot to the other, uneasy about his plan.
"It'll be fine, I've done it before." Soonyoung said when he noticed my nervousness. "Just go and get your work done and then go home and rest."
"Okay." I caved to his plan and turned to leave.
As I thanked the hostess, the realization that I basically confessed to Soonyoung and he didn't give a full answer hits, crushing my soul like a ton of bricks. Sam was waiting outside and opened the car door for me when I exited the building.
"Is Mr. Kwon having a wine night again?" He wondered when he took in my solo appearance.
It took a second to register that he was talking to me. But my voice didn't want to work so I just simply nodded and dipped into the car.
Sam closed the door, quickly moved to the driver's seat, and began the drive to the company. Leaning my head against the window, I couldn't help but replay parts of the night's events. From the aloof conversations during the meal to the sombre atmosphere at the end. The sadness in his eyes projecting his belief in the rumors about him burned into my mind.
'Because it's not entirely false.' Soonyoung's voice echoed in my mind. 'None of those explain why you, (y/n), want to know why I say the rumors are not entirely false.'
"Ms. (y/l/n)?" Sam spoke from the front of the car, breaking me out of my thoughts. "We've arrived."
I looked out the window and sure enough, we were parked in front of the company building.
"Thank you, Sam." I said and then exited the car.
Scanning my ID, I waited for the loud clicks of the doors. As I walked through the lobby, I heard some chatter near the cafe. Walking over, I caught two male and two female trainees snacking on chips and junk food.
"What are you doing?" I asked, making them freeze.
"We were hungry." One of the male trainees lowers his gaze in shame.
"We didn't have enough cash for any meals." A female trainee added on.
"What do you think Mr. Kwon would say?" I said, crossing my arms.
The younger male trainee took in a breath, "He wouldn't be very happy at us for eating."
I smiled sadly. It was obvious that this trainee was new and had read the articles. "You're right. He wouldn't be very happy but not because you're eating. He'd be unhappy because you're eating junk food and not proper food." I looked towards the older trainees, "You know you could've asked for a meal and the company would've paid for it."
"We couldn't find anyone here this late." The second female trainee said.
"What about your managers?" I questioned, eyebrows scrunching in concern.
"Ours went home for the night." The older male trainee said.
"And ours is already really stressed about Alissa so we didn't want to stress him out even more." The second female trainee explained.
"How many of you are here in the practice rooms right now?" I asked, realizing that their hushed tones must've meant they were trying to hide from everyone in the building.
"A few more of us." The first female trainee stated, "They said they weren't hungry so we came out because Tae was on the verge of fainting." She gestured towards the younger male.
I sighed and pulled out my wallet. Sliding out the company card, I handed it to the first female trainee, "There's a sandwich shop down the street that's always open until 11. Go buy enough sandwiches and water for everyone who's in that practice room."
The trainee took the card into her hands with care, as if a sudden movement would break the card in two.
"And when you get back with the food, you can bring the card up to my office to return it." I finished, "And don't do this again."
"You won't tell Mr. Kwon, will you?" The older male trainee asked, worry in his voice.
I smiled and shook my head, "I won't if you leave right now."
With that, all four of them stood up, bowed, and quickly left the building, talking excitedly about what kinds of sandwiches they were going to buy. I watched them until they disappeared from view then began throwing their trash in the garbage can. After their mess was cleaned up, I quickly shuffled to the elevators and didn't even have to wait for an elevator to arrive. Once I reached the tenth floor, I nearly jogged down the hall and into the office.
The draft's deadline was up at midnight and I hadn't even started to organize and make it presentable. Sitting down, I began to type, click, and drag paragraphs and diagrams around into the order I wanted them.
Halfway through my computer haze, a knock sounded from the office doors.
"Come in." I called, thinking it was the trainee returning my company card.
The door opened and closed and footsteps made their way towards my desk. Again, thinking it was the trainee, I didn't bother to look up or take in the fact that the footsteps were much heavier against the floor.
"What was a trainee doing with your company card?" Soonyoung's voice made my entire body freeze. He set the card down on my desk by my keyboard.
Squeezing my eyes shut in failure, I let out a breath. "I caught them eating junk food in the lobby and told them to use my card to buy them and their fellow trainees some sandwiches at the shop down the street."
I reached for the card but Soonyoung placed his hand over mine, effectively stopping me.
"And you weren't going to tell me?" He questioned.
I stayed silent and he took that as his answer.
"That would explain why she looked so nervous when I asked her what she was doing at the elevators." He chuckled. "Where were the managers?"
I looked up at him then. His cheeks were slightly tinged pink so he wasn't drunk but he wasn't completely sober either. His hair looked more messy than when I had left him over an hour ago like he'd run his hand through it one too many times. In his state, I wondered if I should tell him now or wait until the morning.
Soonyoung pouted, "Please? I promise I won't do anything about it until the morning." He held out his pinkie.
I gave him a lopsided grin and connected my pinkie with his. "It was a group of female and male trainees. The female trainees didn't want to bother their manager because their manager is with Alissa. And the male trainees said their manager simply went home for the night."
"He just left them here?" Soonyoung stood up straight, in disbelief. "Absolutely ridiculous." I took the opportunity to pull my previous trapped hand back towards me. The warmth of Soonyoung's hand still lingered on my skin.
I looked up in time to see Soonyoung march towards his desk, muttering something about firing or disciplinary action.
"Soonyoung," I called out to him, making him pause and look towards me. I raised an eyebrow, "You promised nothing until tomorrow morning."
He composed himself and pulled his shoulders back. "You're right. I promised." Then he made his way to small couch opposite his desk, and conveniently perpendicular to mine, and plopped himself down on it.
After eyeing him for a couple seconds, I decided he wasn't going to do anything rash.
"Let me finish this draft and then we can get you home." I told him, eyes already back on my computer monitors.
As I worked, I could feel his eyes staring at me from the couch. I brushed it off, needing to finish it by the deadline but after a while, it became impossible to ignore.
"Can I help you something, Soonyoung?" I asked, looking over at him.
Soonyoung lazily shook his head, "Nope, I'm just lookin' at you."
"Why? Do I have something on your face?" I wondered, hands flying to my cheeks.
He shook his head again, "Nope, you're just pretty."
I felt my heart speed up to 100 miles an hour and tried to hide it. "I think you had a little too much wine. And why did you come back here? I thought you were going home after you were finished at the restaurant?"
"I missed you." Soonyoung sank further in the couch, his head resting back.
We fell into a silence filled only by the clicks of my mouse and the clacks of my keyboard as I tried my best to refocus on the task at hand.
"Say something." Soonyoung whispered just as I saved and sent the document off. An hour before the deadline, but still the latest I had ever turned something in.
"What would you like me to say, Soonyoung?" I questioned, moving towards my email, looking for anything urgent before I took him home.
“Anything." He said softly.
I looked at him from my desk. His eyes trained on the ceiling and his shoulders sagging in exhaustion. I couldn't tell whether the exhaustion was physical or mental.
"Shouldn't it be me asking you to say something?" I countered, watching his face as he tries to decipher what I meant.
He stayed silent as I packed my bag, turned off my computer, and helped him to his feet. The entire way to my car he was silent. I had wanted to check on the trainees before I left but with Soonyoung at my side, that wasn't something I could've managed so I decided to do it the next day when I could sneak away. Knowing the way to his home, I drove us in a never ending silence through the dark night.
When we arrived at his house, he still hadn't said a word. Even as I guided him into his house, his lips stayed shut, voice mute.
"If you're not going to say anything, then I will." I finally spoke, stopping in my tracks. Soonyoung doesn't realize I stopped until he's a few steps ahead and turned around.
"I like you. I want to know every version of you that there is. And I want to make my own conclusions. Not rely on the ones from the articles." I launched into a small confession. "If you don't feel the same, just say so and I'll go back to being your secretary and only your secretary. You just have to say so."
I waited for an answer but he still stayed silent. As I turned to leave, he finally spoke.
"I've never had anyone who wanted to know." He said softly, taking small steps towards me. "Well, there have been a few but they all got scared by the articles before they could make their own conclusions. So I'd learned to just let people believe what they wanted. And then you showed up. From day one, you didn't treat me like the big intimidating boss like the others had. You treated me like a regular, stressed out CEO trying his best to run a successful company."
I looked down, trying to hide a smile at his near exact CEO image I saw.
"I'm grateful for that, you know. But I'm afraid that you'll walk away like everyone else." Soonyoung continued. "That you'll end up hating what you find and leave." By now he was standing right in from of me. Close enough that I saw his longing for me and the fear that rimmed his eyes.
"I can't promise that I won't leave." I almost whispered, "But I can promise I won't be scared off by the articles and make my own conclusion."
He leaned his forehead against mine, "That's enough for me." He mumbled before placing lips on mine.
Wrapping my arms around his neck, it was easy to melt into him and his kiss. His arms wrapped tightly around my waist and I could smell the last traces of wine against his familiar cologne.
We pulled apart but stayed wrapped in each other's arms.
"So I was never reading too much into things all these months?" I questioned, looking into his happy eyes.
"Probably not." Soonyoung smiled.
"Then if you'll give me this answer, when did this all start?" I wondered carefully.
Soonyoung looked off to the side in thought, "Probably a few months ago. I had asked you what 'our' schedule was in the elevator and you had totally missed the fact that I said 'our' and said it all in terms of 'your' schedule."
I put my hands on his shoulders and pushed back slightly. "I'm sorry, I don't remember this ever happening."
"You don't?" He asked, in surprise, "It was the morning when I bought you the apology coffee from the cafe in the lobby?"
"THAT day?" I repeated, "Why that day?"
Soonyoung shrugged, pulled away but grabbed my hand, leading me towards the back of the house. "I think it was the day when I knew you were fully committed to the job and to me. It was refreshing and wonderful to know that I had someone so close who was on my side all the time. At least during the business hours."
We reached the living room and he sat us down.
"And to think, I barely remember that day." I thought back to the day, "Except for the coffee and Alissa's hospitalization, that day is blurred with the rest."
He chuckled, "Doesn't matter much now though."
"I should get going." I said, standing back up, "It's late and you should also be getting some sleep, especially after the wine you consumed."
Soonyoung looked up at me, lips pouted, "Why don't you stay here for tonight?"
I smiled, "Two reasons: 1. I don't have a change of clothes with me and I don't particularly want to show up to work tomorrow in today's clothes. 2. Why would I stay the night at a guy's house when he hasn't even taken me out to dinner yet?"
He opened his mouth to retort but quickly realized I had valid points.
"I win." I stated happily, "I'll show myself out and you get some sleep, mister." I playfully scold him.
"And if I take you out to dinner?" He called out after me.
I laughed, "Then we'll see!"
"Free your schedule for Friday night." Soonyoung basically demanded, "And I mean it, no 'gotta go back to the company' excuses. I'm taking you out on Friday night."
I turned around and waved a hand above my head, "It's a date!"
As I walked away, I heard Soonyoung whisper a very excited 'yessss' to himself and it brought a smile to my face.
I took a deep breath once outside the front door. I didn't know what I would find on this journey but one thing was for sure: Soonyoung wouldn't stop caring for me or making me laugh.
#seventeen#seventeen imagine#hoshi#kwon hoshi#hoshi imagine#kwon hoshi imagine#soonyoung#kwon soonyoung#soonyoung imagine#kwon soonyoung imagine#seventeen hoshi imagine#seventeen soonyoung imagine
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Secrets To Keep
A little somethin’ I wrote. Enjoy :)
Natasha Romanoff x Female Reader
Summary: There are enough secrets within SHIELD. It’s built on secrecy. But some are more important to be kept than others. For the sake of keeping your job and your fellow redheaded Agent’s job. Can you keep a secret?
Word Count: 2,937
A firm knock on one of the neutral white doors inside a long, monotonous corridor. Natasha opens. “Hello Agent Romanoff”, a stern voice speaks. She nods curtly as a gesture of greeting. “I’m here for the- uh, mission prep”. Scanning the hallway first, the Agent walks inside as Natasha makes room by stepping back and opening the door further. She closes it immediately after. A black-greyish jacket with a SHIELD logo on its back is hanging on a chair and a pair of widow bites are neatly placed on a wooden desk next to a thigh holster holding a Glock 26. The blinds of the two large windows are half closed. Yet, a small amount of sun rays still manage to pass through which ensure just enough light to see the most beautiful woman in front of you with ease.
“Seriously, was that the best you could do? ‘Mission prep’?”. Visibly hurt by her mocking comment you scoff. “Sorry, okay. I’m not the master spy here”, shrugging your shoulders, “I’m just a simple agent. Besides, I had other things on my mind”. A perky grin appears and Natasha responds, “Hmm, I wonder what that might be…”. Without hesitation she moves closer and kisses you on the lips as her hands make their way to the back of your neck smoothly. Arms wrapped around her waist tightly, you press her body against yours as if you hadn’t felt her in ages. After your lips parted, you assure her, “Next time I'll think of something better, okay”. And the next time, and the next time after that… Thinking back to what Natasha had said, “SHIELD is basically all about keeping secrets. Everyone has them here, so what difference would one more make?”. She was obviously right. Not about the difference it would make, though. Because when it gets out, serious consequences will follow. Without a doubt. But those worries quickly fade due to the current sight in front of you. Natasha has taken off her shirt, showing her lean waist and well developed muscles. She rests her arms on your shoulders and raises her eyebrows. “Phone?”, is the only word that comes out. “Oof, that just hurts. Simple agent or not, I ain't no amateur Nat. I left it in my locker at the training facility. You?”. She grins, “It's turned off”, and moves her eyes to the desk where you see the piece of tech behind her arsenal of weapons. Can’t be too careful.
Her lips touch yours again, but this time with more passion and desire. She pulls on your shirt as it lifts up, exposing the skin on your lower back. Her hands feel warm and soft now that they make their way upwards, sending ripples of pure joy through your entire body. The heated kissing is interrupted by your shirt that needs to pass. The item of clothing is tossed away quickly, ending next to Natasha’s near identical one. She starts to undress further while you sit on the edge of the bed to loosen the laces of the combat boots. Cocking an eyebrow at the redhead. “See something you like, Romanoff?”, you tease, seeing Natasha glance at you while she bites her lip. “Oh, I see a lot that I like…”. Not getting enough time from the redhead to remove your pants as it’s still dangling around your knees when you hit the soft mattress. You try to wiggle your legs in a way that the thick slacks come off and it lands on the floor beside the bed. Sensing the warmth and weight of Natasha’s body on yours, you let out a long breath and close your eyes. Her lips touch the skin on your neck, your chest and you feel her red hair tickle while she hovers over. Opening your eyes, you stare at her. Both your hands on her hips while she sits upright on top of you. She runs her left hand through her hair to get it out of her field of vision. A cheeky grin forms at the corner of her mouth as her intense green eyes stare down at the person underneath her. Eyes still locked on the woman on top of you, wanting to never lose sight of her. She leaves you completely breathless. Everytime. Over and over again.
How in the world did I get so damn lucky?
Natasha’s lovely voice snaps you out of dreamy thought. “So, how was your day?”. “Come on Nat”, you look away and sigh, “You for real? You wanna talk about that right now?”. “Well, yes, I’m just interested in your daily activities, or stuff that bothers you. That’s no crime, is it?”. Meanwhile playfully drawing with the tip of her index finger over the muscles in your abdomen that have become sore from the killer workout earlier. She sure as hell knows how to get your blood pumping. And especially, how to make you wait. “Of course not. I would happily tell you all about that. But… I don’t know how much time we have now, so-”. At that imperative statement, intensified by your sad puppy eyes, she places both hands on the pillow, each one beside your head, giving you an exclusive view. “You got no patience at all, you know that don’t you”. Your hands slowly start to move up her waist, towards one of the only two pieces of clothing she’s still wearing. “Yeah, I’ve been told it’s one of my many charming qualities. But I mean…”, letting your eyes drift away along her fine features, “can you blame me?”. She laughs, “Just shut up”. Her lips centimeters away from yours, you can almost taste that addictive sweetness again, a wide smile present on your face. Then she stops and freezes. By now you've surely waited long enough, right? It’s not funny anymore. You shake your head confused and cease the unstrapping of underwear. “What’s wrong?”
“Romanoff? I know you're there”, followed by a fist banging on the door. “Shit”. “Is that-”. “Shhh”. Natasha grabs her pants and shirt and slips them on in seconds. Never seen anyone dress that fast before. While you stay quiet, pulling the sheets to cover your almost naked body and to hide your presence, Natasha opens the door just a crack. “Yes?”. “Did I interrupt someth-”. “What do you want Barton?”, Romanoff interjects.
“We’re expected for an emergency briefing. Coulson called us in. Didn’t you check your phone?”. Natasha ignores his last remark and replies, “Ok, I’ll be right there. Give me a couple seconds to get ready and get my gear. You go ahead, see you there Barton”. Almost back to complete privacy, closing the limited air gap, when Natasha’s movement is countered. Barton presses up against the door with force which is clearly noticeable in his voice. “And what about (Y/N)?”. “Yeah, what about (Y/N)?”. “Do you know where she is? She’s also needed and doesn’t answer her phone too. Quite a coincide-”. “Nope. Just check the training facility, she's probably there. See you in the briefing room”, and with a final, powerful push she shuts the door in his face.
A short lean against the doorframe and a muffled sigh that couldn’t possibly be described as relaxing turns into instant action. Natasha strides to the desk with two long paces. “Get up, we gotta move”. The rule seemed obvious at the time. She grabs her phone and can't help but think that it wasn’t the smartest move. That maybe the two of you have been too careful. You climb out of the bed and pick up the black pants of your SHIELD uniform to put it on. “Does he know?”, you ask, reaching for the shirt on the floor while pulling the pants up. “No he doesn’t, but hurry. He’s looking for you and we can’t be late (Y/N). Not again”. Noticing a pinch of distress in between the lines. But mostly annoyance caused by Barton showing up in the wrong place, at the wrong time.
“I knew it!”, a voice from the hallway shouts out. Natasha dashes to the door and swings it open, causing Barton to almost fall over from leaning against it. Apparently still in the wrong place. He looks at you with wide eyes as you’re busy with putting on the shirt in haste and switches to Natasha again. “I knew it”, he repeats with less volume and a grin reaching from ear to ear.
Natasha stays quiet, staring at Barton with a piercing gaze that screams nothing good. “What the hell man”, you call out as you’ve joined Natasha, swiftly tucking the shirt in to give a more professional appearance. Not that it matters anymore, because the damage is already done. At least you're fully dressed again - finally.
“We need to go”, Romanoff states blankly and marches off. Without saying another word about what just happened, you both follow the redhead. An awkward silence hanging around the three agents now that Barton managed to squeeze himself in between Natasha and you. She feels a pair of eyes trained on her and sighs as she eventually ends the absence of sound.
“Just-”, she raises her arms, agitated by the turn of recent events, but drops them just as fast as a sign of surrender. “Keep it quiet okay. I’d like to stay in SHIELD, keep my job”. “Yeah, and me too”, you add firmly. Worries rising to the surface once more.
“I would never screw you over like that, Nat. You know me. (Y/L/N) here on the other hand…”, motioning at you with his thumb, “I’m guessing gets enough screwing”, he snickers. “You think you’re very funny, don’t you Barton”, you say annoyed, glancing at him with narrowed eyes. “On occasion, yes”. “Jokes aside, I’m dead serious, Clint”, Natasha expresses. He better not make another joke, you recommend inside your head. For his own sake, judging by Natasha's, well, everything. “I know, Nat”. He gives her a small nod. “My lips are sealed. You can trust me”. A short, reassuring smile appears on Natasha’s features. Confirmed what she already knows. Of course she can trust him.
En route to the briefing room, in a more crowded hallway now with Barton leading the way when he gazes over his shoulder. “So… how long has ‘this’ been a thing?”, he asks, pointing his finger to connect the two of you. With an inquiring look in his eyes, unable for you to see, he rubs his chin as if buried in deep thought. After a few seconds of intense thinking Barton turns around. “I’d say somewhere after that covert mission in Berlin two weeks ago. Probably needed to share one room, with only one bed. No doubt. It always starts like that. Always”. You and Natasha exchange a look. She chuckles lightly. A suggestive smirk on your face when you respond, “This ‘thing’ has been going on a lot longer. But Berlin was much fun, I’ll give you that”. The disbelief in his eyes made Natasha add, with a quick wink, “Let’s just say we’re good at keeping a secret.”
Barely recovered from all the new information Barton received this afternoon he notes, “But now it’s like, our little secret, isn’t it”. At these words Natasha shoots you a glance. One you recognize all too well. “No, we ain’t gonna do that”. “Admit it, it would make it a lot easier”, she whispers with clenched teeth. “No no, way too messy. I gotta stop you there Nat, not a good idea. This is your assassin brain talking”. “Too messy?”, she scoffs. “Do you even know me? I've got my ways (Y/N), you don't even want to know...”. “True. I don't. Ever”. Even though she has dropped her reinforced steel walls around you, it still remains a mystery what goes on in that head of hers. Maybe for the best.
“What you guys talking about?”, Barton questions as he stops to open the two glass doors blocking the current path. “Uh, nothing. Hope we’re not too late”, you quickly cover and all enter. Standing at the other end of the circular conference table, Coulson looks up from the file he’s holding and flatly states, “Agents, you're late. Close the door. Quickly. We have an important mission to prepare for.”
“Mission prep, huh”, Natasha repeats while she eyes you. Shut up, you mouth to the agent in question. You'll have to do what you've been doing for a while now. With success, fortunately. Flip the switch and be an agent again. Same goes for Natasha. Be each other's colleagues, and just that. How long will we be able to keep this up? You shortly look at the Russian spy. How long will I be able to keep this up? To hide it, you rethink as Coulson's words fly past you. One thing's for sure, whatever happens, I won't ever regret the time spent with this amazing woman, with whom I've secretly fallen in love with…
BONUS:
The concise, but clear briefing finished rapidly and you march towards one of the quinjets that’s ready for takeoff. The gear needed for the assignment already packed inside. Clearly a serious matter of urgency behind it, you reckon, suddenly starting to feel guilty about your lateness. You pinch your shirt awkwardly, pulling it down and square your shoulders. Something’s off. Coulson is leading the way and in the distance you spot some other agents waiting on the aircraft, all geared-up. Not like Barton, Romanoff and you. Natasha and Clint are walking in front of you, just chatting, completely relaxed. Not like you. “Hey, pssst”. You tap Natasha’s shoulder. She turns her head over the spot you’ve touched with an expression that reads, what? “Just- come over here”, you signal with your hand as unseen as possible. She slows her pace. “What is it?”. “I think I’m wearing the wrong shirt”. “What do you mean wrong shirt? We have to gear-up on route. Did you already forget what Coulson said to us minutes ago?”. She laughs, but you can’t seem to share it with her. “Well, this is not mine, that’s what I’m saying”. You grab a piece of fabric of the dark shirt to show. Now that Natasha understands what you really mean, she’s trying her best to keep herself from bursting into laughter. “That explains why mine is a little more ‘loose’”. “And mine too tight…”, you grunt. “Can't we like, switch or something?”. “When do you honestly think we can do that?”, she voices discreetly, both stepping on the tailgate of the plane. “I don’t know, maybe-”. “Just accept it for now”. “But-”. “We’ll swap shirts after the mission, okay”. A low growl escapes your mouth. She’s right, you have no other choice at the moment. There’s no time. You grab the gear reluctantly while dropping your shoulders and sigh. Perhaps a little too loud.
“Everything alright, Agent (Y/L/N)?”. Coulson’s sudden presence behind you surprised you and with one quick movement you turn around, a poker-faced expression. “Yes sir, all fine”, you lie. Probably for the best, all things considered. Or not? “Well- actually, it’s not fine”. You reconsider. Should I tell? I’m sick of the secrets. But I can’t, I really can’t. I know damn well what the consequences are... “Sir”, you begin, scraping your throat. The Agent in charge of the operation waiting patiently for the words that are about to be spoken. “I would like to apologize for being late to the briefing earlier”. “Oh, it's all cleared up. Just don't let it happen again Agent (Y/L/N)”. “How so?”. “Agent Barton explained the situation”. Did he now? Feeling a slight panic, but mostly anger boiling inside your stomach. “Sir, just out of interest, what did he tell? To make sure he isn’t covering for my very own mistake. The truth is more important”. Except in this case of course. “He told me that you were with Agent Romanoff”. Not making it better Barton… The idea formed by a certain redhead's assassin brain doesn’t sound so bad anymore. “Did he also say what we were doing?”. “I’m not sure why you want to know all this, but he said Agent Romanoff and you were training in close-quarters combat. Correct?”. We were surely close, very close, though not a lot of combat involved… “Almost sir, we were actually training our knife-fighting skills. Don’t want to be stabbed in the back by surprise”. Shooting a quick glance at Barton, who returns a way too excited smile your way. “Usually I take my phone with me on the mat, but this time I left it in the locker”. Technically not a lie, one of the few truths to your story. “Luckily Agent Barton was there to bring you and Agent Romanoff in”. “Yes he was”, you agree, trying to sound as neutral as possible. Coulson continues. “I haven’t had the time to tell, but Agent Romanoff and you did an excellent job in Berlin a couple weeks back”. “Thank you sir. I thought so too, if I may say”. Replaying some images of that mission in your mind, but definitely some other scenery than to what Coulson is referring to. You buckle up and hear him speak. “Agents, last mission briefing in 30, just before we’ll touch down. Be ready”. Wishing you could go back to Nat’s room, the moment just before Barton ruined all the fun, and without this cramped shirt on. Actually, without any clothing on. You sigh once again. This is going to be a long day…
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#natasha romanoff imagine#natasha imagine#natasha romanoff fic#natasha x reader#marvel#mcu#wlw fiction#wlw imagine#wlw fic#clint barton#phil coulson#shield#fanfiction
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Turn Down for What
Title Turn Down for What
Collaborator(s) @tisfan / @27dragons @monobuu
Link https://archiveofourown.org/works/23545609
Square Filled Tisfan: U2: Bucky/Tony / 27dragons: K4 - I Regret Nothing / monobuu - just wanted an excuse to draw Bucky in pink speedos
Ship/Main Pairing Bucky/Tony
Rating - Mature
Major Tags/Triggers/Warnings: Meet cute, sexy dancing, revealing clothing
Summary Tony’s driving down an unfamiliar road after a very frustrating day when he sees something... unusual. After that, things look up considerably.
Word Count 1573
for @buckybarnesbingo
It had been an utterly lousy day. The new alloy he’d been working on had turned out to be roughly as brittle as an eggshell, rendering it utterly useless. He’d gotten dragged into R&D to baby Team Four through trying to hold their own cocks. He’d rounded a corner too quickly and collided with a messenger hurrying in the opposite direction, which had resulted in him spilling his lunch all over his new suit. Curry stained, damn it.
And to top it all off, the new body armor contract that he’d been working for... had been awarded to fucking Hammertech.
So yeah, he had taken out one of his cars and cranked the music to eleven and was cruising the streets singing along at the top of his lungs, because the only other alternative was to scream in frustration.
On the plus side, he'd been working out of the upstate facility, otherwise he might well be sitting in traffic and screaming.
Instead, he'd managed to find a nice bit of back road where he could dial everything up to eleven.
Which is why he was pretty sure he hadn't seen what he thought he saw.
A blur of pink and skin and lime green… he wasn't entirely sure that person wasn't entirely naked on the side of the road...
Startled -- apparently there were surprises still to be found on New York’s streets -- he slowed down a little. Enough to try to get a look.
Not naked. But all but. And emphases on the butt part of that sentence, since what Tony was seeing was someone's butt. Wearing a hot pink pair of Speedos. Lime green running shoes, and thick brown hair tied up in a half bun.
Speedo jogged across the street and then did some very flexible stretches, holding on to a light pole.
He seemed in very good shape. Very bendy.
Tony couldn’t quite help himself; he got to the next intersection and made a U-turn, because Speedo was worth a second look.
And a third, and possibly fourth look as well. He was just coming out of his stretch when Tony got back around. Beautiful, really, with sharp cheekbones and a full mouth and a cleft chin.
He glanced at the car, squinted, then grinned, dropped his hips and executed a -- perfectly in rhythm with Tony's music -- a Beyonce video worthy pop and swing, arms moving to show off biceps, hips jutting to show off everything else.
Okay, yeah, there was no way Tony was driving on by with that kind of show. He pulled to a stop and rolled the window down, the better to share the music, and let himself ogle. No man dressed like that could possibly not want to be stared at, right?
Speedo gave him a quick look, then continued to dance, lithesome and seductive and absolutely beat perfect. Muscles gleamed in the afternoon sunlight, lined with sweat. He danced all the way around Tony's car, shaking his hips, and ended up back in front.
Where he backed up that ass and treated Tony to an enthusiastic twerk. The music wound down and the dancer gave Tony a little wave with two fingers before jogging off down a side street, backside jiggling the whole way.
For half a second, Tony debated following him, but that would be creepy, right? Even allowing for the fact that the guy was running around public streets with the ugliest shoes Tony had seen since the 80s and a neon banana hammock.
At least his mood had brightened some and the day had not entirely sucked.
He hit the horn twice as he drove by the side street and headed for home.
The next day was better. And yet, Tony found himself climbing into the car and heading toward that back road.
He told himself that the drive had cleared his thoughts and let him focus better.
He told himself that the cars needed to be driven to keep them in good working order.
He told himself that it was too pretty a day to stay inside.
But he couldn’t deny, as he turned down the street, that he was watching the side of the road for a flash of neon and skin.
The line green shoes were the same, but this time he was wearing some sort of tiger striped compression shorts and a black mesh shirt. When Tony pulled up behind him, he came to an abrupt halt, putting one hand to his ear. Turn down for what?
Tony laughed and cranked his music up, letting the bass thump through his bones like a massage.
The dancer was no less enthused than the day before. Given that he was dancing in running shoes, he still resembled a reject-from-the-80's ballet dancer, his core muscles obvious even through the mesh. He'd produced a pair of sunglasses from somewhere and was using them as a prop. Those bedroom eyes were something else, and the way he could dance without taking his gaze off Tony's face...
Tony was breathing harder, just watching him.
Tony couldn’t resist rolling his window down as the song ended. “You dance like that for all the boys?”
"You were playin' my song," he said, panting for breath. "Yesterday, I mean."
“Yeah? And what about today?”
He shrugged one shoulder, which made his body move enticingly. “You came back for a repeat performance. Wouldn’t want t’ cheat ya.”
“You knew it was me again?” Tony tipped his head, studying the guy. “Not too creepy?”
“I knew it was you,” the man said. “You’re driving a Zenvo ST1. All the horsepower goes to the rear wheels, which makes for a real distinctive engine purr. I could hear ya almost a block away. And that’s not to mention the music.” He winked. “Not too creepy. You start throwing one dollar bills out the window on th’ way by, that might be creepy.”
Tony scoffed. “If I start throwing bills, they’ll be better than ones. Especially for someone as talented as you.”
“Yeah? I’ll tell the troop leader you said so. Recommended, move Barnes out of the chorus line and into a lead role, according to--” He waved a hand at Tony as if for an introduction.
“Tony.” He offered a hand through the window.
“Nice to meet you, Tony,” he said, taking Tony’s hand. “James Barnes, although my friends call me Bucky.”
“Should I ask why they call you that?” Tony wondered. Bucky had a nice hand, firm and not too smooth. A little sweaty, but Tony had interrupted his workout.
“Probably, but not today,” Bucky said. He took a step back, gave Tony that sassy little wave again. “See ya!”
And there he went again; man, hate it when you leave, love to watch you go.
Bucky had practically dared Tony to come back. Tony had never been one to back down from a dare. He could hardly pay attention to the last meeting of the day, wondering if he’d see Bucky again. What Bucky would be wearing with those ridiculous lime shoes. Whatever it was, it was sure to be mouthwatering.
Tony all but flung himself into the car and sped through the streets, slowing down only when he reached that same road.
Bucky pushed away from the wall as soon as Tony drove up. He didn’t look like he’d been out running that day, wearing a set of short denim overalls with black boots and a tank top. He also had knee pads on, and when Tony pulled up, the music cranking, it was obvious why.
His dance moves for that day were exceptionally athletic, involving splits and twists, which weren’t exactly designed for use on a crummy backstreet sidewalk. He had brought out a folding chair for a prop, his legs moving over the back, twisting, and flipping over it like a circus show.
A very sexy, adult circus show, Tony noted.
Tony leaned heavily on his open window frame. “If you’re trying to impress me, then job well done.”
“Technically, I don’t jog on Thursdays, it’s weights day,” Bucky said, sitting backward in his chair and crossing his arms over the back. “But I thought you might be back. An’... I kinda thought if you were. You might want to go grab a coffee or somethin’?”
“Hot as fuck dance moves, an impressive knowledge of cars, and coffee? Be still my heart.” Tony grinned and jerked a thumb at the passenger seat. “Want to hop in?”
Bucky chewed his lip for a moment, then, “Yeah. I mean, I’m not gonna regret this, you don’t… look like a serial killer.” But he was smirking the whole time, so Tony could take it as a joke.
Tony chuckled. “Neither do you. Come on, let’s grab a coffee. I promise I’ll have you home by curfew.”
Bucky folded up his chair and slid it into the very narrow gap behind the seats. “There’s a good place, two down, three to the left.”
“Two down, three left,” Tony repeated. “My treat, since you were kind enough to provide entertainment?”
“You got it, Baby Driver,�� Bucky said, buckling his belt. “Although this is a sweet ride, an’ I feel like I ought to pay you for the privilege.”
“For five blocks? You want a ride, we can go for a ride after we get our coffee. You know, assuming you haven’t decided to regret this.”
“I regret nothing!”
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The Fast and the Furious: Spectral Drift || Morgan, Nell, & Constance
TIMING: Current
PARTIES: @nelllraiser @constancecunningham @mor-beck-more-problems
SUMMARY: Just gals being pals.
CONTAINS: car theft, drowning
For once, Nell was gaining a moment of mediocrity in her otherwise far too lively existence. Not that she minded the chaos. Parts of her thrived on it, but she’d been learning as of late that not all chaos was good, and a spot of normality was welcome in an otherwise unforgiving world. She and Morgan had gathered at Coffee Plus, taking advantage of the quiet day to do a bit of catching up between one another. Leaning forward to take a hearty bite of her chocolate muffin, Nell finished chewing and swallowed before finishing the story she’d launched into. “I’m just saying- maybe if he couldn’t handle the whole sandwich, he shouldn’t have stuck his fingers in the hanyo.” Her tone was bright with a laugh as she remembered the ridiculous expression that had been on the man’s face. Ready to launch into another joke about the poor guy’s predicament, she stopped mid-sentence— realization dawning over her as movement caught the corner of her eye. “Morgan...isn’t that...your car?” Pointing towards the vehicle in question, Nell stood to get a better look. Sure enough, she recognized the license plate that was ever so slowly inching away from the curb, the back of a mysterious head seeming to fumble with the controls. “Someone’s taking your car!”
Morgan was relieved that Nell wasn’t so bothered by her Constance drama as Blanche had been. She missed her young friends and whatever good she was able to imagine she did for them by being around. They certainly did plenty enough for her. Nell, especially, never backed down from a fight or a favor if it seemed right to her, and she could brighten any day with stories from her daily whirlwind adventures. Even though Morgan couldn’t really enjoy anything at the cafe, she didn’t feel ill at ease slurping at her seltzer water with Nell across the table. Listening to the latest turn, Morgan couldn’t help but snort. “You know not everyone is in your league, right, Nell?” She asked. “A lotta guys who call themselves brave would pee their pants getting up to some of the stuff you do. Although, gotta say, even I’m not woman enough to go anywhere near that ‘hanyo’ stuff, even for money.”
She had another question on her lips when Nell’s face changed. “M-my what?” She couldn’t have heard that right. But she followed Nell’s finger and— “That fucking bitch,” she hissed, tearing her bag off the chair. “I gotta go, I’m sorry, Nell, you might wanna run.” She stumbled outside in disbelief. “You’ve got three seconds to get out of my fucking car!” She cried.
Constance jumped, startled at the fury in the woman’s face. She was still getting used to being seen by any old soul, and not just her fellow damned and dead. She could still get out. Apologize for the mischief. This crime was small, impulsive, childish. She had only been wondering at the miraculous contraptions since they had first frightened her months ago. And seeing Morgan, this other Agnes, slide in and out of hers with more pride than any girl she’d seen give to a bicycle. It hadn’t even been locked. How grateful could this woman be for it if she didn’t think to have it locked? Thus, Constance’s resolve solidified. “I think you’re wrong!” She called. Her foot tested one of the pedals and a delicious roar came out of the engine. “I only need three to get away with it.” She moved the lever next to her and pushed the pedal again. The automobile shot backwards, crunching into something behind her. Constance fixed the lever again and she was flying forward, into the road like a comet. “Try and stop me, Bachman!” She cried.
Immediately electing to ignore Morgan’s recommendation of running, Nell’s head whipped around in search of something that might help, an idea that could get Morgan’s car back, and possibly give Constance some hell at the same time. It came to her in the form of a bright and shiny sedan someone was just pulling up in, putting their own vehicle into park alongside the curb. They didn’t have a chance to take the keys out of the ignition before Nell was on them. “Can I borrow this?!” she yelled at the startled driver who was frozen in shock. His confused voice matched the hopeless alarm on his face.
“Wha-? No! It’s my car! Who the hell are you?” Without answering, Nell wrenched open the driver side door, grabbing the shirt of the poor man to firmly remove him from his seat, and deposit him on the asphalt. “Sorry!” Nell quickly apologized, another idea quickly coming to her. “Uh- official police business! Detective Vural thanks you for your service and so does White Crest!” It’d only taken her a quick second to Summon the fake badge she’d magically made when she’d pretended to be police to Regan and shove it into the face of the driver. As Constance and Morgan’s car rocketed down the street, Nell quickly put her ‘borrowed’ car into gear, also ignoring the fact that she didn’t have a license, and had mostly driven tractors. “Morgan!” she called out, rolling the car to her friend. “Morgan, get in! We’ll catch her!”
Morgan screeched with outrage. “My girlfriend bought me that Subaru!” She started pelting the car with whatever she had on hand. Her drinking straw, crumpled up receipts, post it notes, half used packs of Trident, pens, embroidery needles, her planner. They all bounced off the red car and fell pathetically into the road as Constance reversed right into a light pole, switched gear, and drove straight into traffic.
Morgan followed her as far as the stoplight, screaming wordlessly until the car behind her honked. “Hey, lady! Don’t make us late too!”
Morgan stumbled back into the parking lot, just in time to see Nell wielding a police badge as she dove into a random suburbanite sedan. “D-detect--yeah! Detective Stryder thanks you for your service too! Call the station with my name if you have any questions!” She didn’t slide so much as topple into the shotgun seat, junk still spilling from her bag. “And thank you!” She called behind her. They sped off in the direction Constance had gone, fast enough for Morgan to feel plastered to her seat before she could even buckle up. “I uh--didn’t know you had a lot of getaway experience, Nell,” she said, laughing breathlessly.
Broken glass and confused drivers littered the road ahead of them. Skid marks striped the road. Up ahead, the faintest streak of banged up red zig zagged through the lanes before jumping the curb and tearing into the town common.
A snarky chuckle fell from Nell as the familiar name of Marley Stryder was thrown into the mix. “I didn’t know you knew Marley,” she said as casually as a person could while beginning to give chase to a car that had been hijacked by a ghost who could have belonged in Downton Abbey for all Nell was concerned. As for getaway experience… “Oh, I don’t! Unless you count racing games and tractors!” she answered brightly, the rush of piloting a car that was careening down the street in a chase already causing delicious adrenaline to pump through her veins. It’d been a long while since she’d gotten to enjoy a high like this without also fearing for her life. “Actually, I’ve always wanted to drive a getaway car! Or be in a car chase! I just didn’t think I’d get to since I don’t have my license or whatever.” The witch dropped the news as if it were the most inconsequential fact one could say at a time like this, accelerating all the while. A light turned red. Nell didn’t hesitate as she blew through the intersection. Thankfully, Constance had run the same light, clearing the way for Nell to pass through safely. “Don’t worry, we’ll get her!” In a jerky movement, Nell followed the ghost onto the grass of the common.
“We’re acquainted,” Morgan said, wincing at the memory. It clearly wasn’t in any way that could be considered ‘good.’ “Wait, what do you mean you--oh my fuck, Nell, no!” Morgan yanked the wheel, swerving the car away from a tree, bouncing painfully back onto the street. She could see her red Subaru swerving down towards the docks in the distance, the bumper just barely hanging on and sending a fireworks show worth of sparks down the street. “She can’t get much farther like this,” she hissed between her teeth. Morgan let go of the wheel and reached into her bag for her salt pistol.
This wasn’t really the ideal time for Nell to question Morgan further about her and Marley’s relationship, even if her need to be nosy was in full force and trying to get her to ask anyway. Later, she told herself before punching her foot to the gas once more. “Hey!” she objected as Morgan jerked the wheel. “I wasn’t gonna hit it! Talk about a backseat driver,” Nell grumbled. But the disgruntled mood was quickly past her. How could she stay upset when she was zooming along in a car chase? A grin split over her lips as she took the time to roll her window down, laughing as the wind whipped her hair with the sudden gust of air. “What is that?” Nell asked, not entirely sure what kind of gun the strange thing in Morgan’s hands was. However, she did know that if Morgan was going to get any kind of decent shot, they needed to be closer. Yet again, Nell stomped on the gas, laying the pedal flat against the floor of the car. Finally, she managed to catch up to Morgan’s car, the front bumper of Nell’s ‘borrowed’ car kissing against the back of Morgan’s Subaru. The nudge was more than enough to knock the Subaru’s bumper loose. “Ha!” Nell exclaimed as the piece of plastic clattered beneath them before remembering that it was Morgan’s car she’d just tapped. “Ah- I mean- oops?”
Morgan cried out to see her poor bumper. Her fingers stretched out helplessly to the windshield. “S-subaru…” she whispered. That did it. Morgan cranked down the windshield, because of course it still had a fucking crank, and leaned out, pistol raised. Three short pops burst through the air. Three brusts of smoke. The salt rounds exploded against the Subaru. One landed in the spiderweb break in a window, melting on contact.
Constance’s joy was short lived. These monstrosities were no relief, no freedom. The beastly thing seemed to have a mind of its own! Then the windows began to cave in, dripping with salt. “No, no, no, no…” She whimpered. She tried moving the lever, but this only made the car jerk and fit. Panicked, she rammed her foot to the pedal. The automobile screamed as if she’d cursed it and spun out of her control. Constance shifted, ready to drift out like it was no matter of all, but no, her solid form was now her prison. The automobile crashed onto the docks. Wood shattered everywhere in its wake. Finally, it came to a stop, and Morgan Beck, the last of the Bachmans, was right behind her. Constance picked her way out of the debris and stumbled into the car’s path, her body clenched and unyielding. Let her do her worst, cruel coward that she was. To ruin even one of her ill-gotten treasures was worth the trouble this had cost.
As Morgan hung out the window of the car, Nell reached for her own door handle— ready to launch herself into whatever showdown it was that Constance was hoping to have here. What she was going to do she wasn’t all that sure yet. But Nell had to do something. If she didn’t, who knew if there would be another Maxine sooner rather than later? But as her hand reached for the plastic of the handle, she heard a click of the locks, and in a single second the witch found herself momentarily trapped in the car by some no good ghost mischief. If only it had stayed mischievous rather than lethal. Before Nell could so much as search for the unlocking mechanism, a weightlessness overtook her. She was...flying? No, the entire car was flying. Straight over the side of the dock as Constance wielded her power once more, sending the borrowed vehicle right into the hungry fingers of the waiting waves of the ocean. Morgan was gone from the window before Nell could make sense of what was happening, probably thrown adrift by the sheer force of the launch. And then...an icy coldness as water began to pour in through the open window, the car sinking steadily below the surface of the water while Nell remained trapped inside. She jerked uselessly at the handle as more saltwater began to fill the cab of the car, it not taking long to rise to her knees. It seemed whatever Constance had used to keep the doors shut wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon.
Constance, don’t.
The voice wasn’t in Constance’s ears, but it shook through her strange body as she tried to stop the car. Locking it was no matter to her, but the rest, becoming an immovable object to its unstoppable force. If she were her full self, it would already be in the air. If she were herself, she could have gotten hands around Morgan and snapped her to pieces. She could have thrown her across the room, smashed her up and down and gathered the dust of her bones for--
Constance, don’t.
It was the girl’s voice. Blanche Harlow. And in remembering her warning, Constance stepped back from her rage. But the car was already trembling in her grip. There was someone besides Morgan inside. Another girl, as frightened as the school children had been, maybe more. She could see Constance. She knew exactly what was happening to her, and perhaps even why. Constance let go, it was too much, all of this was too much, she didn’t want to be cruel to innocents, but she couldn’t let Morgan cower behind her friends all the time either! Constance’s self-control was like that of a child and the car didn’t come gently down to rest. It soared into the water and crashed through its depth, hard enough to disrupt the waves. Constance watched it sink, helpless to move, to think. “Help!” She screamed at last. “Someone help! There was a crash, did you see a crash? The automobile just-- there’s more than one person inside there! Help!” She sprinted up the docks, arms waving like mad. “Help me, please!”
Even Morgan’s zombie nerves felt her body hit the water. She plummeted downwards, muscles burning as she wriggled to slow herself down. The ocean was veiled in salt and murk before her eyes, but she could just make out the outline of the subaru in the distance. She opened her mouth once to call, only realizing how stupid that was when water rushed into her mouth. Fuck. She had to get to her. She was not losing another person to this spoiled brat of a witch. I’m coming, Nell. I’ll make this right.
As the water got higher, and only the murky depths of the ocean could be seen out her driver’s side window, Nell screwed her eyes shut for a long moment— trying to assess, to find her way out. She hadn’t come all this fucking way to die via being tossed into the ocean by a god damned ghost. The sound of rushing water, and the coldness of it rising to chest height was enough to push Nell into action, and in a quick moment she’d drawn one of her hidden daggers, slamming the butt of it against a backseat window. It did what it was meant to, shattering the glass and allowing more water to fill the car. The witch couldn’t remember where she’d heard it, but somewhere along the way she’d gotten it into her brain that letting the car fill with water would make it easier to open the door and make her escape. A quick spell made easy work of the locks, and the whole handle flew off of the side of the door as the dire need of the situation had given her a little too much juice when it came to casting. Whatever. It would work. She’d been submerged enough to float towards the roof of the car at this point, and now all there was left to do was wait. Wait for the car to finish filling. Wait for the perfect moment to take her last breath and make a break for it. Finally, the moment came— and she took a shuddering and deep last breath of precious air as the car became entirely filled.
Nell fumbled it. Half of her final breath became water where there should have been air, and suddenly a reflexive cough was wracking her. In all of two seconds...her air was spent, and she hadn’t even gotten out of the car yet. It didn’t matter. That was what she told herself. It didn’t matter because dying wasn’t an option. Kicking open the door, it felt like time moved in slow motion as she finally came out from the car. She raised her eyes towards the light filtering above her to find that the sun seemed impossibly far away. Shit. Shit shit shit. Had she really sunk that far so quickly? Should she have tried her chances with getting out of the car earlier? It didn’t matter now. Swimming had never been a problem for her, but the surface seemed impossibly far. Nevertheless, she kicked her legs, making a desperate attempt to live. It wasn’t long before her lungs were screaming for air, begging her to take that breath of seawater that would begin the sealing of her fate and death. Just a little closer. Just a little more. But the little more wasn’t enough. It felt like every gallon of the ocean was pressing on Nell— her eyes, her ears, any crevasse it could manage to find. Dizziness began to take its hold, and Nell vaguely wondered how it was even possible to be dizzy underwater, the inane thought crossing her mind as spots began to appear in her vision. She wasn’t going to drown. She refused to drown. Barely aware of it, sheer will seemed to propel and jet her higher, and whether it was her legs or her magic, she wasn’t able to say.
Morgan was no expert swimmer, but she had determination and stamina on her side. She tore through the water, muscles aching. The pull of the ocean was not her friend this time. It weighed down her arms, making her slower. Salt and floating debris flung into her eyes. Morgan continued to swim. She could see her now, a limp ragdoll figure in the blue.
No. Not today. Not one more fucking person is dying because of Constance.
Morgan grabbed her around the waist and propelled them to the surface.
“There they are!”
“Look!”
“Someone toss ‘em a rope!”
“Grab on, honey! Don’t let go!”
Morgan’s eyes were blurry with seawater, but she made out the shadow of a life preserver flying towards her. Morgan dragged her and Nell towards it, trying not to focus on how much distance there was between them and the shore, the ruin of her Subaru, the weight of Nell’s motionless body in her arms. “We--” she called, her throat choked with salt. “We need-- CPR! She--” Morgan gagged on more seawater. Nothing was moving fast enough. Not her legs, not the human chain forming on the docks, not the clouds gathering over the blinding sun. Morgan kicked in the water to help move them along, but it felt like she was still being pulled down, squeezed until she broke and gave up.
When they reached the surface, Morgan remembered to give a few dramatic coughs and wheezes while a woman she recognized from Amity Row felt for Nell’s pulse. “How did you… did you see? What happened?” Morgan asked.
The crowd looked uneasily at each other. “Just the end,” one of them admitted. “Wouldn’t have seen it at all except for that weird little girl.”
They began to describe her in bits and pieces, red hair, funny dress, maybe a cosplayer, but Morgan had already heard too much. She didn’t care what Constance had or hadn’t done for them, what kind of crowd she wanted to draw for her latest maneuver. If she was still gawking by the time Morgan was through here, she’d take her new solid body and pound it into dough. “Out of my way!” She snapped. “She just needs CPR! Fuck, it’s not rocket science!” She started pumping on Nell’s chest, blocking out the rest of the world. She’d taken this training enough times to remember; she could get this right. “Come on, Nell…” She whispered. “I can’t let her get you too. Come on…” She breathed into her mouth. “We’ve got this, Nell. We got this… we got this…”
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