#it fits so well you can’t tell me it wasn’t meant for this lmaooo | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

littlemisslipbalm · 4 years

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“Harry’s stylist, right?”

Summary: Harry and his personal stylist are great collaborators, on screen and off. She helps his visions come to life and in turn they’ve become close friends. As she helps him to bring his fashion dreams come to life during the Fine Line era, will some other dreams come to life as well?

Harry and his stylist go from colleagues to friends to lovers because they’ve been in love with each other from the jump

this fit is very important to this part lmaooo - I literally have no idea what to call this lol, anyway I've been sitting on this for forever and I wanted to get something out for yall and i love this story there will be a part 2 when i get to a writing mood. I love this story bc its my literal dream - anyway!! pls enjoy and reblog and lmk what you think :)

Word Count: 14k | Warnings: swearing, drinking, tame for now, should be smut eventually - aka slow burn (what else would you expect from me at this point i guess)

part 2

“Hey, H, I just had a question about one of the SNL outfits? Do you have a sec?”

Harry looked up from his phone and raised his brows at his stylist, Y/N.

Y/N had worked with Harry previously. In photoshoots for Another Man magazine and his most recent Gucci campaign. As well as some other random times, such as one-off award show looks and specific appearances. However, this past summer Harry had hired Y/N to work fulltime for him, exclusively. He had told her that he was planning on releasing his second album in the winter and he wanted someone there to help him plan his clothes for music videos, award season, interview appearances, as well as tour outfits.

Y/N stood just inside the doorway of the room, leaning her back against the wall, looking expectantly at him. Her eyes were wide and her lips were pursed. She was dressed simply in a white satin skirt and a matching cropped button-up, they both had cream flowers embroidered on, paired with horsebit slim Gucci mules. Her style was eclectic, but she had definitely noticed an increase of Gucci in her wardrobe since starting her employment with Harry.

Y/N’s passion in life was fashion and clothes and she constantly worried that one of Harry’s outfits wouldn’t deliver as much as she wanted it to. He was quick to tell her not to worry so much though, as long as they both were happy with it, how could anyone else not love it. Plus, he’d always add, it didn’t really matter what anyone else thought. But as more and more events began to crop up, Y/N’s worry over her work grew. She had only been the head stylist for Harry on projects that were still underwraps - except for Lights Up which had been released a couple weeks ago now.

The first project she ever worked on with Harry as his full-time personal stylist was the Lights Up music video. She had never worked so closely with one person for so long on just one project. Harry was insistent in vision and came in the first day filled with ideas, what he imagined for the video's concept and how he wanted to incorporate clothes. She had been happy to make his dreams become reality.

The two of them spent hours at his house for weeks, pouring over every detail of every outfit he planned to wear. They both wanted it to be perfect. And eventually, it all came together, exactly how they had planned. All of the garments for the video took up two entire garment racks. Y/N had made Harry pose in every single outfit for polaroids that she dated and then put into a lookbook she started for him. She had told him she planned to document every outfit she styled for him and Harry had been so excited. The outfits he wore in the video were received with praise when it was finally released, and Harry and Y/N were overjoyed. There was already a party for its release, but they both were especially happy that night. Throughout the evening, Harry and Y/N would gravitate to one another and fall into side conversations about the outfits and what people had been saying. Even if Harry said it didn’t matter, he and Y/N both knew, at the end of the day, they loved when people were happy with their work.

“Sure,” he bounced to his feet, but Y/N made a hand motion telling him that he could stay seated. He settled back down as she crossed over and sat beside him on his couch.

She was at his house in London today planning his next few appearances that were promotion for the upcoming album, Saturday Night Live was next. Harry had been taking a break from their work until she had come in.

It wasn’t unusual for Y/N to be at his house, they had been working together for months now. First, it had been for his outfits in his music videos that were filmed in late summer and early fall, like Lights up, but also a few other ones. Now, it was clothing for promo appearances, interviews, and listening parties. Next, it would be tour outfits, which she had already started planning, but officially, they hadn’t started discussions yet. Harry had helped her to get a flat closer to his house in London just for her to be able to head over and help with the planning or fitting of his outfits more easily. She also was constantly traveling with him to his appearances, making sure outfits were perfect right before whatever show it was or making last minute adjustments in case either of them decided something wasn’t right.

While Harry was a big guy, his waist was far trimmer than a usual man built to his size, this meant she had to take in a lot of his trousers at the waist. As well, with his shirts and coats, she’d have to take them in or out depending on how Harry wanted the fit to be - either perfectly tight or perfectly oversized. He was particular, but she appreciated his drive for fashion and how he cared for his appearance. Before performances, she often had to take things in or out based on any body fluctuation that had occurred since the initial fitting.

She was looking at her sketchpad that held all of her notes on his clothes - which was different from the lookbook of polaroids - including patches of the actual colors and little Harry figures dressed in what he was going to wear. Right now, she had the pad opened to a page titled “SNL Opener - November 16, 2019”.

“So I was thinking with your opening monologue outfit, it might look better to have a different colored blazer? A matching yellow would be great, but if you did more of a toned down - maybe light tan or beige - blazer with gold embellishments, you’d elevate it to look sophisticated and stylish, rather than just stylish. It’d be exactly like the runway look - which I know you sometimes don’t like, but I think it’s what looks best.”

She ran her finger between two swatches of what she thought would be the better blazer color and the one Harry had originally wanted. He wet his lips and gazed at the page as he thought about what she said. Normally, she liked monochrome on him, but she thought the deep blue underneath a completely yellow suit might wash him out on the stage.

“Yeah,” he pointed to the top beige swatch, “I think I do like this better.” He paused and turned his head to Y/N, looking in her eyes before asking, “Is that all?”

“Er...no,” Y/N ran a hand over her unstyled hair, slightly fluffed by her constant musing of it. She often fiddled with it while she worked, better than biting nails she always said when confronted about her tick. After a sigh Y/N continued, “I was just on the phone with Jane from Gucci and she said that for Look 57 they could only send your technical size, for some reason they can’t custom make it. Meaning, I’ll have to tailor the whole thing to you when it arrives. Is that alright? Or do you want to choose something else?”

She flipped to a page that said “SNL WS.” Harry followed her hands and nodded realizing she was talking about the Gucci suit he wanted to wear for Watermelon Sugar. It was a watermelon’s inside red. When he had found out the suit came in that color, he had danced around the dining table for what Y/N had felt like was an hour, humming the tune of Watermelon Sugar excitedly. Finally, she had coaxed him to sit back down and get back to their other work, which was still picking out clothes.

“No, that’s fine,” Harry shook his head and used his thumb to scratch under his lips absentmindedly, “It really needs to be that color.”

She nodded, she knew what his answer was going to be, but she also knew he still liked to make the final decision.

“Alright, we’ll just have to meet for longer when everything arrives, to tailor that one. Then the rest of them should just be making sure the fit is perfect.”

She rose up from her seat and patted Harry’s shoulder, leaving him to his thoughts, as she went back to finish up the calls with Jane and the designers.

He caught her hand in his before she completely walked away, “Thank you, Y/N.” He was so grateful he had hired someone who was as driven as he was and understood his fashion sense and wanted to help enhance what he was thinking, rather than someone trying to control him or just going along with whatever he said. Neither would be productive or helpful, thankfully Y/N loved her job and cared to do things right.

She grinned before exiting, “H, you’re going to be this century’s style icon if it’s the last thing I do.” He laughed as she walked out of the room, leaning back on the couch to continue his lurking on Instagram.

One week later

“I’m here, H! I come bearing Gucci and more!” Y/N said as she shuffled through Harry’s front door, she held a deconstructed rack and a garment bag filled with heavy suits and things. Inside were Harry’s four most important outfits for SNL, some other garments for SNL, and some clothes they had talked about for his upcoming listening sessions later in the month. Y/N needed to check the fit on all of them and begin tailoring the Watermelon Sugar suit. The key Harry had given to Y/N, previously, had let her in, but she assumed he was home. He said he’d be.

When Y/N rounded the corner she found another empty room. Confused, she set down her large items and went to search for Harry. Y/N literally needed him to be here for this part. It was the only real time she actually needed to see him in person - but that was beside the point.

“H?”

She wandered through the different rooms of his home. Normally, Y/N didn’t go into the other rooms, she was always mainly in his lounge area, the dining room, and a little casual office room he had - sometimes the kitchen for water, his bedroom once. Still not finding him, she decided to venture to the furthest door, Harry’s bedroom, she remembered.

Harry groaned at the sound of a knock on his door, he rolled over in his bed. After a few moments of hearing nothing else than his groan, Y/N felt like she had to go in and check on him.

“H, it’s 12:30 and we agreed we’d meet at noon. Are you feeling alright?”

Y/N moved into the room and found a shirtless Harry surrounded by rumpled sheets, clutching at a pillow. He groaned into his pillow again in response. Her legs bent at the edge of the bed and she reached out to smooth some of his chestnut hair out of his face, “What’s wrong?”

He moved his head to allow his eyes to look at her, “‘M so tired, don’t know why. My stomach kind of hurts too…” Y/N looked at him quizzically, before running her hand over his tan forehead once more, this time checking for a fever. “You don’t have a fever. When did you go to sleep? Have you eaten anything today?” With her help, Harry moved into a seated position, head tilted back against the bedpost. He sat silent for a moment before blowing air out of his mouth. “Went to sleep kind of late for me, I guess...Haven’t eaten.”

“Ok, you’re just tired from staying up late, you old man, and you might be a little dehydrated and hungry. Listen, I’ll go make you some food if you get up and prepare yourself for the day. We need to get all your clothes fitted so that I can fix anything before next week.” Y/N was always good at getting Harry back on track when he got distracted - or even out of the station, when he wasn’t in the mood to work on something. She slid from her perch on the bed and walked to almost the edge of the room before Harry called her back.

“Can you pick out my clothes for me?” His soft, tired voice whined. “So hard...and you’ve got the best eye. Pleaseeee,” he pleaded softly.

Rolling her eyes, Y/N sighed and made her way back into his room. Crossing to the door that led to his walk-in closet, she set to work. As silly as he was being, she could never pass up on a chance to pick out an outfit for Harry.

“You’re literally going to be changing the entire time, H, you could have just thrown on sweats,” she called back to him once inside the smaller room. He repeated how she always picked the right thing, even for just around the house. Again, Y/N rolled her eyes at Harry, but she also couldn’t hide the warm smile on her face that was due to his compliment.

She couldn’t believe how dramatic Harry could be sometimes. Right now, he was a lesser form of hungover and he was acting like his life was ending. Y/N had made a note a while ago to never agree to a meeting on the day after any partying. She learned the hard way one particularly terrible Sunday. She had come round his house at a similar time, noon-ish and found Harry dead asleep, backwards in his bed. When she had roused him, his only responses were grumbles and groans. She had to not only pick out his clothes, but also help dress him. Then, after providing water and aspirin, she moved all their work into his bedroom so they could work from there. Harry had proved to be a baby when it came to hangovers. But, she hadn’t realized he could get like this even without being truly hungover.

After settling on his live aid t-shirt, that Y/N was eternally jealous of, located at the front of his drawer and his favorite corduroy trousers, she walked out and threw them in the direction of his toned, but slumped body. “I will not get you boxers, that is most definitely not in my job description, Boss.” Y/N sent a pointed look in his direction, moving to finally leave the room. While he was technically her boss as her employer, their work relationship was extremely collaborative and it never felt like he was in control of her, she just liked to give him shit for being a drama queen.

“Guess I’ll be going commando. How’s that going to work with me changing in front of you a bunch of times?” He teased right back, taking the clothes you had thrown at him and giving them a onceover. His teasing signalled that he was already feeling better.

Y/N shook her head and walked out of the room, “For the love of God, Harry, please put on underwear before you come out and continuously strip in front of me!”

The words he shouted after that were muffled, but they were something along the lines of how the human body is beautiful and shouldn’t be covered up. Unbelievable. As she set to work on making both of them some lunch, she finally heard Harry begin moving around. They had a lot of work to do as it was and whenever Harry was in a mood, whether it be a good mood or a bad mood, they always seemed to have a hard time focusing.

One night, that could be seen as the poster child for Harry and Y/N’s procrastination, was during the planning for the Adore You music video. Harry was in a super good mood that day and he had brought that energy to their meeting at his house. Y/N was supposed to be fitting him for the various outfits, but Harry, in his mania, ordered an overzealous amount of Chinese food. It took her and Harry hours to even make a dent in the food. And while they passed the time with eating, Harry and Y/N got further and further from their tasks, opting for conversations that included more fun topics than work. They had gossipped about some of the other people they worked with, Harry had begged for “the tea” about some of his other staffers and Y/N was happy to oblige. As much as Y/N would hate to admit it, she loved when they got off of work subjects and talked about how their day’s had been and what has been on their nerves lately. It was a nice way to decompress, it was like hanging out with a friend, except it wasn’t, not really.

Harry shuffled into the kitchen wearing what Y/N had picked out for him. Her smile grew knowing that he hadn’t changed what she’d picked. His confidence in her and her abilities never failed to feel like the biggest compliment.

“Go sit at the dining table, I’ve made us some little sandwiches and then we can decide the order we want to go through the outfits in.”

Before following Y/N’s orders, Harry continued his shuffling around, first to the cabinet for a glass, then to the fridge for water. At the end of the table, she set the plates between the head of the table’s spot and the one to its left. Harry took the side spot, so Y/N was on the end. After a bite of his food, Harry moaned loudly in contentment. This caused an amused look on Y/N’s face, there had been nothing special in his house so she had just made what was possible. This meant that Harry’s satisfaction was a little over the top.

“You’re acting like you haven’t eaten in a week. What did you do last night that got you in such a twist?” Y/N asked as she took a sip of her own glass of water. Harry nibbled at his lower lip after swallowing, trying to understand why he was particularly tired today.

“I guess I forgot to eat properly yesterday and then I went out running. And I stayed up late on the phone with,” he paused, eyes flashing to Y/N and then away again, “someone for SNL.”

Y/N hummed at his words before going back to her own eating. She didn’t understand why he hesitated about telling her he’d been on the phone last night, it especially irked her that he wouldn’t even say with whom. Professionally, it wasn’t really her business, but Harry was never secretive with her. Plus, it seemed to be work related so why was he being so flighty about it.

Moving forward, Harry peppier from eating and simply moving around, the pair set to work. They decided on trying on everything else first and then saving the Watermelon Sugar suit to the end. The other three main pieces for the night fit perfectly, Y/N had to only do minor reworks of certain areas.

“H, I need you to hold still…” Y/N interrupted Harry’s ramblings as she was crouched beside him.

She had to take up the hem on the pant legs so right now she was trying to pin them in the place she and Harry had agreed upon, without messing with the pleats.

“Sorry,” He mumbled, straightening out his back to stand taller.

He stayed quiet for a bit until Y/N popped back up, she looked at her notebook for reference on what she still had to tailor.

“Okay, next, the pants crotch is looking pretty fitted, so I assume you want it taken down a bit,” Y/N said as she got back into her crouching position. “Look in the mirror and tell me where you think letting it out looks best, I don’t have the best vantage point when I’m up this close…” she trailed off, placing her measuring tape directly on top of Harry’s crotch and running it down his leg a ways.

Once done with her first attempt at where she thought was best to let the pants out, she turned her eyes to the mirror that showed Harry in his suit with Y/N on her knees before him. Harry cleared his throat as he looked in the mirror, seeing Y/N with her eyes wide in anticipation in the position she was in made him want to run and hide. Her hands were extremely close to his dick, but it was literally her job, he knew he had to shake the thoughts that were running through his mind.

“Maybe just a bit further up actually, as much as I like the high waist with dropped crotch, I want this suit to have that specifically tailored look,” his hands motioned for Y/N to bring the drop up a ways.

Her hands then brought the measuring tape up, once again grazing over his area. Again, Y/N looked at Harry through the mirror for approval, and this time he gave it and she placed a single pin in the place where the pants would be let out to.

Standing up, Y/N hoped Harry didn’t notice the blush gracing her face. She was a stylist and used to being around naked bodies as well as touching around a man’s crotch when working. But Harry in this suit must have been magic, because she had felt extremely vulnerable on her knees in front of him in it. She had felt flushed the minute he hadn’t liked what she had done initially and she hated that she felt that way for some reason. Beginning to work on the sleeves of the suit set her at ease, Y/N was thankful to no longer be kneeling or in such close proximity to what was under Harry’s pants.

“Anything on your mind of late?” Harry broke the silence.

Y/N hummed with a pin stuck between her lips, folding up the suit jacket’s right sleeve. Plucking it from her mouth after a few silent moments, she said, “Not really, haven’t had time to do much else lately. Always thinking about you,” Y/N flushed as she realized what she had just said. “I mean, thinking about you like about your clothes and when they’re going to arrive and what I need to do about them, not you personally, sorry that came out wrong,” her blush intensified as she rapidly fumbled through her last sentence.

“Ow!”

“Oh my god!”

While Y/N had gotten flustered with her words, she managed to stick the pin she was using straight into Harry’s flesh. She immediately removed the pin from where it had stuck him.

“Oh god, I’m so sorry, H, we’ve got to get this off. I need to make sure you’re not bleeding onto the suit.”

Y/N rushed around to Harry's backside and began slipping off his suit jacket as Harry chuckled and began to unbutton the shirt as carefully as possible.

“‘S alright, Y/N, if there’s any blood on the shirt it’ll blend in, blood is practically the same color.” She glared at him through the mirror and Harry continued to laugh, “That is not funny, H, I shouldn’t have stuck you in the first place.”

“No, no,” Harry hushed Y/N as she began to slip off his shirt from one side to the other, taking off the sleeve on the side she hadn’t poked, “you’ve got so much on your plate with all the planning for the upcoming events. Then you worked yourself up over a little slip.” As Y/N carefully unbuttoned the cuff of the sleeve to try and slip off the shirt with the least amount of blood on it as possible, Harry finished with, “I wouldn’t mind if you were just thinking about me, though, an’ not the clothes.”

This time, Y/N was very in control, not willing to let herself slip up a second time today. She didn’t know how to respond to what Harry had just admitted. It wasn’t like this hasn't happened before. Both of them were guilty of making little comments that made it sound like they were interested in each other in a way that was a little different than professional or friendly. But every time the other person always had the responsibility to shut the idea down or completely blow past what their counter had just said.

“Harry…” She began, it was soft and pleading, like she was saying she couldn’t entertain that idea. Examining his forearm, after pulling the shirt completely away and resting it on a nearby chair, she saw a little spot of blood protruding from the pin prick she had caused. “Where do you keep your bandages?” Y/N decided that it was best to brush past Harry’s words this time and went off to find his first aid kit. Harry stood there, shirtless, staring at the blood on his arm. It really wasn’t a lot and it wouldn’t have done anything to the suit, but Y/N was always so careful and never wanted to ruin any of Harry’s clothes.

On her return, Y/N came upon a shirtless Harry perched on the edge of the table, with one arm crossed and his other - that was bleeding - being held slightly away from his body, as if Harry was afraid to touch it. His posture was slumped so Y/N could see his spine curving beneath his tanned honey-soft skin and his shoulder blades slightly flexed. While most of Harry’s body was covered in tattoos, she noticed how the closest tattoo to his back was the small line drawing of a guitar on the back of his left shoulder. Other than that his smooth back was bare. Y/N found it interesting that Harry had never chosen to ink his back. She jogged lightly back into the room and Harry’s head turned to watch her approach. His bottom lip was caught between his teeth as he regarded her. She noticed he was being particularly quiet, but she had no idea why. Maybe he was still tired.

Y/N set to work on finding the correct tissue, neosporin, and bandage for Harry’s small wound. As she worked on fixing up her mistake, Harry’s eyes followed her movements. Green eyes flickering between her hands on his arm and her own eyes focusing on her task.

“After this, I actually can just head home and finish the rest of the work,” Y/N said as she unpackaged the bandage, “I already know where I need to take in the suit sleeves and the shirt’s sleeves were looking fine. So, I can get out of your hair and you can get to sleep early tonight.” She placed the nude toned bandage over Harry’s arm, she was a little sad to find he didn’t own fun bandages. That was something that she expected from Harry, but she resigned that maybe she didn’t know everything about Harry.

Before Harry could speak, Y/N continued, “Don’t rehearsals for the show start tomorrow? When are you flying to New York?” She ran her hand over the bandage, smoothing it in place. Her hand lingered there as her eyes looked up and met Harry’s. Harry twitched his arm away from Y/N’s touch and scratched his nose slightly.

“Yeah, I’m flying out tomorrow morning. When are you set to fly out?”

“Friday. I’ll get in before the final dress rehearsal and then I’ll be there for the show.” Y/N stepped back and began to rehang the suit jacket and shirt that they had discarded in her haste to not get blood on them.

Then Y/N stood there staring at Harry. He looked at her slightly confused by her doing nothing when she said she was leaving. “Pants, H.” She said finally when she realized he had forgotten he was still wearing the suit pants. “Oh! Sorry,” Harry exclaimed as he began to unbutton and remove the pants he was wearing. He handed her the pants and she exchanged them with his live-aid t shirt. He took it graciously before slipping it on and disguising his toned body beneath it. Then he took his pants from earlier and fully redressed himself.

“Damn!” Y/N said and Harry’s head flipped to watch her as she began to put all of the clothing back in their garment bags and take down the rack.

“What’s wrong?”

“I just pinched myself with the rack, I’m all left feet today.”

“Here,” Harry chuckled as he walked over to help Y/N, “let me help you with all this. Just in the boot of your car, yeah?” Y/N nodded and smiled in appreciation for Harry. He grabbed her keys laying on the table and then took the rack and a garment bag. Even if things sometimes got tense between them, for whatever reason, he was always quick to move past it and be thoughtful and kind in the best ways for Y/N. After shaking her hand out, she grabbed the last garment bags and followed Harry out to her car. Harry shut the back of her car softly and turned to face Y/N, she stood beside her car door, ever so slightly leaning against it. He walked to her side and smiled.

“I’ll see you in a week,” he said before wrapping his arms around Y/N’s much smaller frame. His body was radiating heat and it felt good against Y/N in the crisp night air of London. She pressed into his hold and wrapped her arms around his waist and squeezed him hard. “Less than...Can’t wait to see you make an absolute fool of yourself out there.” Harry protested her tease with a small, “Hey!” but mostly focused on his hands on her back and the way her hair felt especially soft under his chin. Finally, Y/N pulled away, “Kidding! You’ll be amazing and you’ll look killer while doing it.” She winked before opening her car door and driving off. Harry was left with the lingering scent of her perfume and shampoo mingling in his nose.

It was the Saturday night, November 16th, 2019.

Harry and Y/N were in his dressing room before the show started. His outfits for the night were lined up, except for his opener one that Y/N had just dressed him in. His first change would be for Light’s Up, then a couple skit outfits that had to be moved elsewhere for quick changes, then the Watermelon Sugar suit, and then finally his end of the show casual look. The opener looked incredible, it’s fit was impeccable and Y/N knew people were going to love it.

She stepped back from Harry to give his whole body a once over, the SNL hairstylist had just blown out his hair and given him a sort of middle part. It definitely looked good and paired with the suit - Y/N could already tell it was going to be a hit by all accounts. Harry grinned back at her, doing a little dance to show just how much he was loving his clothes and how excited he was.

Grabbing the lint roller, Y/N gave the lapels of his suit jacket a once over and then moved it slightly out of the way to roll the big collar of Harry’s shirt and the bits of the body of the shirt that were showing underneath the jacket. Basically, Y/N was lint rolling over Harry’s clothed abs. Apparently, that was a ticklish area for Harry because he began to squirm and giggle under the tool’s touch.

“Seriously, H?”

She smiled as she said it, so excited for Harry that she couldn’t be mad at his relestness.

“Can’t help it. ‘M so giddy. Plus, I’m a wee bit ticklish.”

Y/N gave him a single laugh before removing the lint roller and smoothing over the shirt against his stomach and then over the lapels when she put the jacket back in place. She adjusted the Gucci reader’s she was wearing today, that were more for decoration than anything, but she liked to pretend they made her see better.

“You look smashing, Mr. Styles. Absolutely gorgeous, if I do say so myself.”

“Are you talking to me or the suit?” Harry asked as he flipped to look in the full length mirror in the dressing room.

“Can’t it be both?”

“Sure,” Harry said, he noticed the clock and realized it was his time to get in places. He leaned down and placed a small kiss on Y/N’s cheek, “It’s my time, thank you, Y/N.” She blushed at his words and actions. As he walked out the door, she called after him, “Break a leg, H!” He sent a final air kiss in her direction before completely disappearing.

She looked at the clothes hanging on the rack in the room and palmed over the fabric. Checking the lapels and brushing the lint roller over the, she finally stepped back and was happy with how they looked. When the show was just about to start, she flitted to the part of backstage where she could watch Harry perform. She giggled along to his monologue and grinned whole-heartedly when the crowd would roar with approval. Y/N had heard all of the jokes already because of the dress rehearsal yesterday, but it didn’t matter. Harry was killing it. She also took time to appreciate how good Harry looked in his suit on stage. In front of the lights and all the people, his suit shined brightly with the pops of blue and yellow and the oversized grey-iege jacket. His soft chestnut hair billowed perfectly to frame his forehead as he sipped from the faux martini. Y/N bit her lip to stifle her laugh. The fact that Harry, her boss and friend, was up on the Saturday Night Live stage with pink and blue nails sipping from a faux martini, it was perfect.

When Harry came back for his first performance change Y/N was right there waiting for him.

“Hi, that was really good,” she smiled up at him as he began to take off his coat.

He smiled brightly back at her as he exhaled a hefty breath, “You think so?”

“Yes! C’mon, everyone loved it. You delivered it all perfectly…” she took over undoing the buttons on the shirt because Harry was moving too slowly. “I’m in a man band now…” Y/N mumbled under her breath before chuckling.

“Did you just imitate my accent?” Harry said, now pulling off his sleeves.

Y/N moved around his back to take the shirt to hang and grab his Lights Up outfit. They worked like a well-oiled machine together, constantly taking over roles to get things done more efficiently, but never stepping on each other’s toes.

“Nope,” she winked before handing him the black sequin jumpsuit and exchanging it for his yellow pants. After rehanging the pants and bringing over Harry’s different set of boots, Y/N said, “Y’know, I’d have to say that your hair is giving your suit a run for its money.” She placed the shoes on the table beside Harry and began to fix into the place different parts of the jumpsuit, moving to zip up the back and then coming to the front to smooth it.

“What do you mean?” Harry looked in the mirror and delicately touched the edges of his hair, considering Y/N’s statement.

“No one ever really sees it how it is, nicely blown out but not too much product so it falls to frame your face. What’d you tell the hair person you wanted?” Y/N stepped back to allow Harry to change his boots from one Gucci pair to another, like he did with most of his wardrobe.

“Just told them to make me look mature. You think it looks good?” He looked up at Y/N when he asked the question.

“Think it looks sexy, that’s what I’m saying, no one’s gonna be able to focus on your clothes with how good your hair looks.”

“Ah,” he deftly runs his hands down his suit as he looks in the mirror.

Y/N just stares at Harry, checking him over one more time. She wasn’t lying about his hair, it was sexy and she wanted to run her hands through it to feel how soft it was. In a complete friend way of course.

“I like it…”

“It looks like you just rolled out of bed, but the bed was made of angel feathers.”

Harry laughed at Y/N’s description. He shifted his body to face her more and moved closer to her in the process.

“Alright, you should probably get back out there,” Y/N closes the gap between them and adjusts the chain of his jade and silver crosses and brushes over his broad shoulders.

They’re professional touches, but her movements hold an undercurrent of intimacy that neither of them realize. If anyone had been looking on, they would see how Y/N’s fingers delicately caressed Harry’s skin right before she cradled the pendants to move them in place. They would also see Harry instinctively lean forward into her touch and breathe slightly deeper to take in her scent. When she brushes over his shoulders, he straightens up at the touch and shows he’s ready to get back out there. It’s as if she prepared him to go.

Harry sings Lights Up and the crowd loves it. Sarah kills her drumming and Mitch eats up lead guitar. The backup singers bring out a different tone to the song. It is all around an amazing performance.

As Y/N clapped along with the crowd from backstage, Aidy Bryant approaches her.

“You’re Harry’s stylist, right?”

Y/N turns her head at the woman next to her, “Yeah?”

Aidy smiles, eyes slightly gleaming, “Well, you’re wonderful at your job.” As Y/N is about to thank her, Aidy continues, “And Harry knows that too, he talked about you all week. We all thought you were his girlfriend at first.”

Y/N laughed lightly and had to keep herself from letting her jaw drop at Aidy’s words. She even choked a bit on her own spit and had to cough slightly before even being able to think of a response, “Well, um, yeah...no, H, Harry is just my employer and...friend. No dating, we just get along well. Which is important since we spend a lot of time together - for work of course!”

Aidy smiled sweetly at Y/N, “Yeah, Harry explained that when Beck asked him how long you’d been together. At first he had said a couple months and then said ‘wait, Y/N is just my stylist, we’ve been working together for a couple months’ and then we all felt really dumb.”

“Don’t feel dumb,” Y/N reassured her, unsure why she was actually continuing this conversation, “He loves to talk about clothes and that’s where I fit in to his life, so I’m sure my name would come up a fair bit. Was that it?”

“Yeah I guess, but-” Aidy began to say more, but Y/N cut her off.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry, but Harry’s finished and I’ve got to go help him change for his next song.”

Aidy was left in Y/N’s wake, chuckling to herself, fully reassured about the reason that they had all thought Harry had been dating Y/N. Because they already acted like a couple. And they were both helplessly in love with one another and neither of them knew.

The rest of the show went off without a hitch. Harry continued to wow the crowd and Y/N sent him off from his dressing room always looking fabulous. Just as he was about to walk back on stage for his final farewell, Y/N noticed a tiny string on his trousers zipper. Unable to stop Harry and unable to grab at the string without looking odd, she had to let him walk on stage with it. It wasn’t actually a big deal, but Y/N sighed in annoyance because she knew that string was going to bug her for the rest of the night.

“Treat People With Kindness!” Harry finishes off his farewell.

Applause begins to sound and the cast is out front hugging and chatting, while Y/N is watching from the side still fixated on the string on Harry’s pants, now simply dangling. Finally, they begin to clear the stage because it’s time for the after party. Y/N knew there was no stealing Harry away to fix the problem that was now fixated in her mind. Every cast and crew member was trying to talk to him, congratulating him, hugging him, anything to spend time with the incredible man. Y/N couldn’t blame them, but she also wanted to be able to go some place quiet and debrief with Harry about his outfits. She wanted to look up what people were saying about his clothes and discuss the critiques with Harry. She also wanted to start discussing what was coming next with Harry. But most of all, she just wanted to hang out with Harry.

What Y/N wanted wasn’t going to happen anytime soon, which she knew, but it still only grew her annoyance with that string. If only she could get it off of him, maybe then her mind would be able to relax a little.

She meandered backstage, resigned she wouldn’t be talking to Harry for a while. There she went to find the band’s dressing room, knowing she would find Mitch or Sarah who she’d be happy to talk to. They weren’t ones for the spotlight and no one ever really seemed to want to brownnose with them at events like this. Y/N had met them a few times.

The first was when Harry had asked Y/N to meet him in the studio in mid July, Mitch and Sarah had both been there helping Harry finish up something for the album. Y/N never asked what, she liked music quite a bit, but when it came to the technical part of it, it went completely over her head. Harry had introduced them both and they seemed lovely. After that, she had seen them around for an event or two of Harry’s. It wasn’t much, but it was more than any of the other people around right now.

Just as she was about to knock on the door it swung open, revealing Harry’s entire backing band. “Hey,” Y/N said sheepishly, “Harry’s being fawned over by the masses and I don’t actually know anyone else here. Is it alright if I hang out with you all at this after party? I doubt there’s going to be anyone really dying to meet the stylist.”

She smoothed her own clothes as she spoke. Y/N wanted to look professional tonight because sometimes when she was dressed in more fun or “young” clothes she got mistaken for someone who had snuck in. The only thing that got people to not question her authority to be where she was, was a card that read ‘staff’ that she would clip onto whatever she was wearing at places like this. Tonight, she chose a pair of purple plaid pants, a sleek lilac tank underneath a cream knit shawl, and cream Gucci mules. Ever since Harry took an interest in Y/N’s pearl necklace, she had largely stopped wearing hers because she hoped never to be photographed matching with him. However, she had known the pearls would have completed the look, even putting them on in her hotel room, twisting a pearl in her hand as she looked in the mirror, and then taking the necklace off again and settling on a different silver necklace instead. The ‘staff’ card was clipped to her pants pocket tonight.

“Of course!” Sarah said as the band began to file out of the room, “You might want to take your tag off now, though, you’re done working for the night.”

Her laughter rang sweetly through Y/N’s ears and she smiled back before removing her identifying card. She hated the piece of plastic and was glad to take it off, it never went with her outfits, but she had gotten tired of taking out her business card every time someone asked what she was doing. Y/N was sure that during the tour she’d be fine without it, but as Harry’s show appearances were beginning to ramp up she knew it would be helpful to have.

“Thanks...you all were amazing out there tonight. Second time on the SNL stage right?”

The group of you began to walk in the direction of where the after party was being held. Mitch piped up, “Thanks. Yeah, I love their box stage setup, it’s pretty cool.” Y/N was happy that she had people who were easy to talk to so that she wouldn’t be alone tonight.

Arriving in the room of the party, they were all quick to grab the alcohol that was being provided at the pop up bar. Y/N wasn’t normally a fan of drinking at events like these, mainly because she was not usually invited to this part of the night and when she was she wanted to be alert. But she figured there wasn’t much else to do so she took a hearty sip of the champagne. It was a little sweet, her face scrunched.

“Too sweet?” Mitch questioned when he saw Y/N’s face.

“Just a little for my taste.”

“Harry’s not going to be drinking tonight then. So particular about his alcohol,” Mitch continued.

Y/N laughed, “Well I’m glad, then I don’t have to deal with him being a baby about his hangover tomorrow.”

Mitch quirked an eyebrow at Y/N’s statement. Sarah and the others in the band had dispersed to mingle with the SNL party goers, leaving Mitch and Y/N to their conversation.

Realizing what she said could be seen as slightly weird out of context, Y/N quickly started again, “because I’m supposed to go shopping with Harry tomorrow. He wanted to go to Gucci and a couple other stores here before flying to LA. I’m going back to London until the listening parties, so we need to figure out the finishing touches for those and..” Y/N trailed off trying to remember which looks weren’t completed yet for the next few shows, Mitch waited patiently, “a few of the suits for the Late Late Show. He’s not happy with one of them so we might switch it. But anyway, you know how he is with a hangover. Proper child.”

Mitch threw his head back in laughter at Y/N’s serious look that she gave him. “Yeah, he can be...a lot. I meant to tell you, Harry looked great tonight. All of the clothes were fantastic,” Mitch added.

He was kind and Y/N appreciated him sticking with her. The two of them had rested themselves against a wall near the bar, sipping their champagne and enjoying each other’s company.

“Thank you.”

Mitch opened his mouth to say something else, but Heidi Gardener, another SNL member interrupted.

“Y/N, right!?”

Y/N and Mitch both turn to her, equally taken aback by the sudden burst of energy from this person they didn’t really know. Y/N nodded.

“Oh my gosh! You have to tell me where you got the jacket Harry is wearing!”

Heidi even goes as far to point in Harry’s direction. Y/N knows what she’s talking about, but her eyes still wander to where she pointed. Harry stood in a clump of people, surrounded by Ben Winston, James Corden, and the Gerbers who had all come to watch. She sighed as she watched his eyes shine as he laughed with a smile on his face. She hoped that by now the string had fallen off his pants by now, if not she was going to kick herself later.

“Oh, it’s Bode,” Y/N’s eyes coming back to meet Heidi’s happy face, “but it’s custom made from a vintage blanket. There’s only two that exist.”

Y/N and Mitch watched as Heidi’s face dropped.

“And I’m pretty sure the designer owns the other one,” Y/N added, “Sorry.”

Heidi smiles and jokes, “Know any ways I could possibly get Harry to give me his?”

“He loves that coat. I have no idea what you could possibly do to convince him he didn’t need it anymore.”

“Sex, probably,” Mitch says under his breath.

Heidi doesn’t catch it as she walks back off and Y/N turns to swat him with her free hand.

“What? He always gives away his clothes to girl’s he has crushes on.” Y/N rolls her eyes at Mitch’s words.

“Probably best if you don’t inform the masses about that,” a new voice says.

Unbeknownst to Mitch and Y/N, Harry had broken away from his entourage to steal a few minutes with his two friends, his best friends if he was being honest. They laugh together as he wraps his arms around their shoulders and pulls them both into his chest. Y/N feels the warmth radiating from Harry’s body as she snuggles into his side. Her hand wraps under his jacket and around his waist to squeeze right about his hip bone. His face is gleaming with a small sheen of sweat, but his smile is so big she barely notices his perspiration as he looks down at her.

“Heard you were talkin’ shit?”

Mitch quips, “Us? Never.”

Harry scoffs, “Come off it!”

When he releases Y/N and Mitch from his grasp, Mitch straightens up while Y/N’s eyes immediately go down to Harry’s crotch. She’s not paying attention to their conversation as she tries to make out in the dim light whether the string is gone or not. The men realize she’s not listening and they both follow her gaze.

Confused, Harry asks, “Y/N, any particular reason you’re staring at my dick?”

Her head shoots up, eyes wide and cheeks flushed from embarrassment.

“I wasn’t!”

Mitch laughs and decides he wants another glass of champagne right then, mumbling something about how that was his cue. Harry smiles, knowing she wasn’t doing what he had said, but still intrigued to know what was going on in her mind.

“You had a string right on your zipper and it’s been bugging me since you went out for your outro. This is the first time I’ve seen you on your own and I couldn't exactly go up to you in a random crowd and grab at your crotch. But now I can’t see in this light…” Y/N bit at her lower lip and furrowed her brow still trying to see if the string was there.

“Have you really been thinking about it this whole time?” Harry asked, slightly concerned.

“Yes...I know it doesn’t matter, but I just want your clothes to look perfect.”

Harry takes a deep breath as he makes a small smile at Y/N. Then he brushes over the front of his pants, hoping he removes the string if it's still attached to him. “There, I’m sure it’s gone now. I’m sorry you had to worry about that. Just know everyone I’ve talked to has been raving about the clothes.” He placed his ring-clad hand on Y/N’s upper arm and squeezed it.

“You did an amazing job,” Y/N said.

Harry pulls her into his chest one more time. This time without Mitch so both of Harry’s arms go around her shoulders and both of hers go around his slender waist. Again her hands disappear under his coat and thumb over his warm white t-shirt, her face resting on his chest right next to the word ‘Sex’. His arms tighten around her back as they rest there for a while. Y/N always has to make herself pull away, knowing that Harry will stay there for as long as he can - in anyone’s embrace - and remembering they’re in a public setting, she didn’t want anyone to assume things, even if she had already been made aware that people had.

“We’ll debrief more later tonight, yeah? The champagne is terrible so I won’t be drinking,” Harry said.

Y/N laughed under her breath as she smiled at his words. Mitch and her knew Harry too well. She nodded about getting together later, “Alright. Get back to your fan club.” Harry narrowed her eyes at her words, not sure if she was trying to sound sarcastic or not.

Hey, I’m back at the hotel. Just let me know when you want to debrief :) x

Y/N texted Harry the minute she got back to the hotel, she had no idea if he had left before her or was still at the after party. All she knew was that it was late and she was starting to get tired. Still, it was important for them to talk about their plans for tomorrow and she also really wanted to just be with him alone. Whenever they would debrief after big events Harry and Y/N would laugh at all the outrageous stuff they had seen go on throughout the night.

When she was still a freelance stylist she had helped Harry to plan his Camp outfit at the Met Gala. That night, they never even went to bed and had to debrief about the clothes the next afternoon over tea at the Palace. Both her and Harry were recovering from their exhaustion and nursing equally terrible hangovers. But there they were, sitting in the center of the dining area of the hotel, being served some of the nicest tea and sandwiches Y/N had ever had. It was amazing. Y/N had never felt that rich in her life before and Harry had told her the craziest stories about the most famous people in attendance. It was almost unbelievable what these people would reveal to Harry and Y/N was happy to listen to all of it, promising to never tell anyone else. That outing was probably the first time Harry realized he really liked Y/N and wanted to work more closely with her.

While tonight wasn’t quite as wild as the Met Gala had been, Y/N was still excited to hear any funny stories Harry might have in addition to their clothing talk. They really hadn’t had much time to chat since she had gotten to New York yesterday so it would be nice to just be alone together. Even if Y/N chalked their debriefs up to ‘shop talk’, she was always very excited for them.

As she reached her hotel room door, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

I’m still out, but should be heading back soon. Up to you if you want to wait up or we can just debrief in the morning while we shop. x H

Y/N sighed at the message, she wanted to wait up and debrief before tomorrow, if not for alone time with Harry but professionally for being able to plan out their shopping tomorrow. Where Harry was carefree, Y/N was meticulous and planned out. She liked to have fun, but she knew when she had to get her work done, even when Harry was off in his own mind. Their work styles mostly coincided, Harry could be serious and focused, too, but often when he was surrounded by all his famous friends he had a hard time saying ‘no’ to whatever came up. So Y/N knew that Harry’s definition of ‘soon’ could range from actually soon to almost dawn. She really hoped he actually meant soon, so she shot him a text saying:

Just knock on my room and if I open it we can debrief lol x

Harry smiled down at his phone when Y/N’s text came through, slightly chuckling before double tapping and placing a heart reaction of her text. Then he was pulled into the limo that one of his friend’s had gotten them and was handed a flute of champagne.

Back at the hotel, Y/N threw her phone on the bed and decided to change and simply settle in for the night. If Harry made it back, he made it back and if he didn’t she’d wake up well rested.

Maybe thirty minutes into scrolling on her phone, Y/N heard a rough knock on her door. She was actually quite surprised that Harry had indeed been back soon. Rising from her snuggled place in the bed, she shifted around her night clothes and padded to her door. There stood, rather hung, a slightly disheveled Harry. His hair was whipped into disaster, something was smudged on his face, and she noticed a stain on his t-shirt that hadn’t been there the last time she’d been with him.

He slurred her name as he stumbled through the doorway. Y/N closed her eyes and sighed in exasperation. She was in awe that somehow Harry hadn’t gotten off his ass in the past hour and a half.

“What happened to not drinking tonight?”

She walked beside him and helped shove him into a sitting position on her bed. He flapped his arms, chaotically trying to get his plaid jacket off. Throwing her phone in the direction of her pillow, she moved to help Harry with his jacket. After quite a bit of strugglings, Y/N finally got the Bode jacket off of him successfully and threw it onto the nearby chair. Sighing, she settled beside him.

“So, Harry, care to explain?”

“Hi, Y/N…” He swayed slightly, attempting to face Y/N more. She threw out a hand to his shoulder, gripping him tightly to try and steady him.

“We went in this limousine, and they had champagne - good champagne - and I drank a bottle or so pretty quickly.”

“Or so? Oh Harry...I mean you’re free to make your own choices, but I don’t know if this was one of your best.”

“Wasn’t...wasn’t my idea. I was planning on just going back to the hotel. Then James convinced me to come out for a bit. Then the champagne was looking good so I went for it.”

“Like I said, you can make your own choices,” she patted his arm and went to the en suite bathroom to wet a washcloth to clean off his face.

“So, is it champagne on your shirt or am I going to have to go through hell to get the stain out?” She called.

Harry groaned and leaned back on the bed, fingering at the crisp white sheets. “Champagne,” he finally muttered as Y/N reappeared into the dim room, only the outside world and the light in the bathroom lighting this area.

“And on the face?”

She climbed onto the bed and kneeled beside Harry’s prone body, beginning to swipe at the smudge on his face. He tilted his head to face her, bringing the cheek with the dirt to lay facing perfectly up. His jawline showed perfectly and she felt the strength that laid beneath the skin she was washing.

His eyes flitted up to her face, trying to stop the spins he was currently experiencing. He hadn’t thought he was that drunk until he had been required to find his way up to their floor on his own.

“Lipstick?”

She sighed, running the washcloth over his cheek once more, and tried to push the image of some woman (or man who wore lipstick, she guessed) with her lips all over Harry’s face. She didn’t want to know who it was or why it was. It was too hard, especially after the day of people asking her about Harry and her relationship and insinuating things about him and his romantic life. She just liked to keep the words Harry and romance apart as much as possible, it made her life easier that way.

“It was only from-”

“It’s ok, Harry, I don’t need to know who you were…” She stopped herself, not even wanting to say ‘kissing’ or ‘snogging’ or even worse ‘shagging’. Adults were human beings and they could do a lot in an hour and a half. And again, she didn’t want to know.

“You keep doing that. Are you mad at me?”

“I’m sorry?”

“Calling me Harry, not ‘H’. Is it because you’re mad at me?”

“No,” she sighed, shifting to sit more casually, “No, I’m not mad at you. I just wasn’t expecting you to show up at my door like this. I try not to worry about you, but then when you show up like this, it kind of affirms I had reason to be concerned.”

She took a hand and smoothed over Harry’s tousled hair, he rolled his head back to face the ceiling. “Like I said, you’re an adult, capable of making his own decisions. And, I am just your stylist. I’m just glad you made it up here and knocked on my door. Probably would have given someone else a fright.”

He laughed, starting to sober up as the spinning in the room stopped. Her hands on his face and hair were soothing and sobering.

“Thank you for caring about me, love. And going beyond being just my stylist, you’re my friend Y/N.”

His eyes flickered shut and Y/N stared at his soothed features. His words were still slurred and she was sure the use of love was just his britishness slipping through his drunken state. The part about being more than a stylist, she tried to push it away, telling herself not to read more into it than her heart would like to. Even though he said she was a friend as well as a stylist and not anything more, it still sent so much joy through her body. He didn’t just see her as a work colleague and he had said it. But in his inebriated state, Y/N didn’t want to take everything he said as gospel.

She moved him up the bed with a little bit of his sleepy self’s help into a more comfortable position. It was pretty late now and she wasn’t going to kick him out. It would have been rude and unkind and that were two things Y/N rarely was. She went and grabbed the extra blanket from the cabinet and draped it over Harry’s large body for extra warmth since he refused to get under the covers. She also slipped off his boots and stained shirt per his request before getting into the other side of the bed and falling asleep.

She awoke to a shifting body beside her and she sat up confused as to who it could be. Quickly, Harry showing up drunk at her door came flooding back and she turned to look at the groaning Harry beside her. His arm was thrown over his face as he moaned, just waking up as well and experiencing the first bits of his hangover. This was going to be a long day.

“Hullo,” his voice was especially low, groggy and hoarse from the night before. He peaked over at her from behind the crook of his elbow. His eyelids barely open and his eyelashes weighing them down so much so that she could barely see his sleepy jade eyes.

“Good morning, H. Have a nice rest?” Y/N sat up and began to ready herself for the day, rummaging through her suitcase for an outfit and moving about the room.

Harry’s arms went to his sides as he worked to sit up, eyes following her figure as she moved around, seemingly not groggy very much unlike him. “Erm...I’m sorry for showing up pissed.”

“S’fine, H. Just glad you didn’t end up in a ditch or someone’s bed - someone’s that you might regret…” She barely regards him, throwing a single glance his way before shuffling to the bathroom to change. She knows they’ll be photographed today, it’s almost inevitable right now. Everyone knows Harry is in New York and people are buzzing to see him after his performance last night. She slips on the 70s inspired dress, the v-neck and long sleeves settling perfectly on her frame, it hugs her curves and lands around mid-thigh. Rolling on the bold mustard yellow tights and strapping up the brown leather mary jane heels, she looks herself over in the mirror. She then tries to tame her hair and do the rest of her routine, knowing she needed to get on with the day, shopping first and flying home second. Making sure Harry was okay was also on that list, but she couldn’t pretend like she wasn’t a little disappointed in him after last night.

When she returns, Harry is sitting with his legs hanging off the edge of the bed, head hanging as he’s hunched over himself. “C’mon, you gotta get going, kid. Lots to do today.” She’s pacing over to Harry’s deflated figure to pick him up and prompt him to get moving. When she arrives by his side his head lifts and his now more awake eyes stare up at her.

“I’m sorry for yesterday, really. I mean it.”

“I told you already. It’s fine.”

“It’s not - or it wasn’t. You called me ‘Harry’ last night. I don’t think I’ve heard you call me that to my face since we started working together. I took your answer last night because I was swimming in it, but now, thinking about it. I know you were upset.”

She huffs, taking a seat beside Harry on the bed, choosing to not look at him, slightly confused why she had been so upset and why he was pushing it. “Ok, yeah I was annoyed, but I was also genuinely worried. I didn’t know you could physically get that drunk in that small amount of time. And then you show up at my door with somebody else’s…” Y/N falters, catching her slip up and deciding to fix her gaze on her shoes and their intricate design built into the leather.

“You’re upset that I had lipstick on me?” He’s trying to meet Y/N’s gaze, but her eyes are really interested in her shoes. His tone is confused, he’s trying to understand what’s going on in her mind.

She scoffs, risking a glance to Harry but then returns quickly back to her dress this time. “Please...it was just inconvenient for me, okay? Thought we were going to debrief and stayed up late for you. Then I had to take care of you after you hung out with your famous pals and I had barely even seen you all day. Felt a bit used.”

Harry shifted in the bed, turning to face her by tucking one leg beneath him. He places a hand on hers that was placed on the end of her dress. Her eyes finally meet with his and she feels her breath slightly catch in her throat. His eyes are piercing, his gaze intense, maybe even a tinge of anger. “Y/N, I would never have come to your room if I even had an inkling that this would be how you’d interpret it . Even though I was drunk, I wanted to see you, that’s why I came up here, because I wanted to be with my friend, one of my best friends, not because I just needed some pushover to care for me.”

She sighs, feeling icky still about the whole situation. She sometimes found herself in fights that she never intended, she wished she hadn’t said anything at all. But she also knew that wasn’t healthy either. Flipping her hand, she intertwines her fingers with Harry’s and smiles for the first time that morning. His expression softens at it. “Look, I’m sorry too, H. It honestly wasn’t that big of a deal, but I appreciate that you’re such a great guy and boss to want to truly apologize and make sure I’m comfortable and happy… Oh, and I promise I’ll never call you anything but H from here on out - unless you tell me otherwise.”

He cackles unabashedly at her words, before suddenly clutching at his temple with his free hand. “Fuckin’ hangover,” he mumbles. She smiles and stands up, beginning to throw his shirt and shoes from the end of the bed at him, “You need to get ready. Go pop some advil or whatever. My flights at 5 so we haven’t got all day, H.”

“There she is,” Harry grins, beginning to put back on the stained ‘Sex’ shirt.

As he hustles out of the room, shoes in hand, she calls to him one last request, “When you’re in fresh clothes make sure you bring me that stained shirt. Gonna have to spot clean it when I’m back in London!”

“Of course! And we’ll debrief as we shop, yeah?”

“Yes!”

The two of them were shouting to each other as the door continued to close on them. Chuckling to herself, she begins to pack up her room, knowing she had to check out before they left. Her spirits already lifted, she doesn’t even notice as she throws Harry’s forgotten Bode jacket into her suitcase with some other items that had been on her chair. She wouldn’t notice it until she was back in London unpacking from the trip.

Shutting the case, she springs back up from her crouched position and walks to look in the full length mirror again. Her fingers run the length of her dress, leafing over the slightly darker brown embroidered flowers that were woven into the tan fabric. She squints as she turns sideways and pops a heel up behind her. It looks good, but something is missing. Rummaging through her carry-on she pulls out her old butterfly bandana she used as a head scarf and begins to fix it into place on her head. Placing large sunglasses on the bridge of her nose, she feels like the look is complete and gives herself some poses in the mirror; a peace sign, an air kiss, a Marilyn Monroe. She laughs at herself.

A knock on the door shakes her from her childish fun. Straightening up, Y/N saunters over to the door, swinging it open with ease. “H?”

“You ready?” Harry stands in a fresh pair of Marni trousers paired with a striped orange and mauve Marni sweater. He, like Y/N, had this thing about wearing the brand you planned to shop at. He didn’t always stick to his rule, but he usually didn’t like to wear Gucci when he shopped at Gucci.

“Yeah, just need to check out and drop my baggage at the front to be held for later.” Y/N slips through the door and notes how his outfit compliments hers. She wouldn’t mention it, but it's something to think about since he had known what she was wearing. She wasn’t sure why she noticed things like that, if asked, her answer would probably be that it was the stylist in her, just her job.

Stepping out of a black town car on the side street next to Gucci to go in the side entrance would never get old for Y/N. She had never really enjoyed the idea of fame, but from a young age she had known she wanted to be able to afford the finer things in life. Going into the Gucci store now, especially with Harry, was like going to the candy store once you’re a grown up and can buy whatever you want rather than what your parents will allow you to.

Today, Harry and Y/N didn’t have as much time as they would usually like to spend in the store, but they were just happy to be doing what they loved. Y/N had been ecstatic to find out Harry found shopping to be an essential part of his life and that he liked to do his outfit shopping in person rather than online. Trying on clothes and picking out things you liked just was so much more fulfilling when you were in the physical store. Then make that all happen with Harry Styles as the buyer, then it was a real party. The stores liked to pull out their Champagne and clear the store to allow him privacy, specifically when it was for clothes for projects under wraps. In the beginning of her employment, it was only ever Harry who would do the trying on of clothes, but as the two of them got acquainted and comfortable with each other, she found herself trying things Harry would pick out for her. At first, she would veto some items saying they were too expensive for her, but eventually she learned that her new salary covered whatever it was. She had always enjoyed designer labels and choosing to be a stylist meant she had nice clothes, but only working for Harry had caused her closet to double in size and triple in value.

“So we are looking for some trousers today,” she tells the worker at the store, reminding them of what she had already called ahead about. The employee nods and proceeds to lead them into the room where they had laid out an assortment of pants for Harry to pick from.

“What do you think of these?” Harry walks out and strikes a pose, popping one of his hips to the side and his hands on his hips. The pants strain around his thighs, but fit practically perfectly everywhere else. His slim waist is perfectly encircled by the fabric and he’s decided the sweater he was wearing didn’t match them and he’d rather go shirtless. This choice technically should allow her to solely focus on the pants, but it actually makes her focus that much more diverted. She makes a spinning motion with her pointer finger as she purses her lips. He takes a quick spin and the boot cut slightly flares with his movement. The pants are a dark brown with a single plaid crossing in a lighter brown. They are only lightly flared, which she prefered to the extreme flare that some of Harry’s suits had. She narrows her eyes at the pants to keep her gaze from shifting to the taut muscles of Harry’s arms and torso or the dark ink that licked over his skin in the beautiful designs of his choice.

“They’re nice,” she pulls up a picture of the top part of the outfit he was planning on wearing, “Do you think they match with this though?” Harry walks over to her seated position and bends to look at her phone. His skin radiates heat and the smell of his cologne and she sniffles slightly with her sensitive nose. His eyes flicker to her face when he notices her little noise, but returns to looking at the phone when she doesn’t spare him a glance. She felt his gaze on her, but couldn’t bring herself to look from the phone. She knew his proximity would make it even harder for her to keep her eyes off his naked torso. The expensive smell of Harry mixed with the expensive smell of the store was a lot to handle.

“Yeah...no. You think they’re not right,” she widens her eyes at Harry’s words when he pulls away. He turns to the mirror in the open dressing room and fiddles with the waistline of the pants. “I agree,” he finishes before stalking back into the room and shutting the heavy velvet curtain that worked as the door to it.

He tries on five more pairs of trousers and finally settles on two pairs for the two different listening parties. A heavier, wool-tweed pair that was dark brown and then a lighter brown tweed pair. He was still in the lighter pants as he stared into the mirror. He beckoned to Y/N, and she quickly set down the flute of Champagne she had been sipping at lazily as he admired himself.

“Is it possible for you to take it in a bit more,” he says in a hushed tone to her, not wanting the workers to overhear. They were helpful but if they overheard they would wait for the store to tailor the trousers and he preferred for Y/N to do it. He rubs at the waistline again and she moves closer, her hands going to his sides. Her fingertips graze the naked skin above the trousers and Harry shivers at the coldness of the new touch. She ghosts softly over the waistline herself and smooths the fabric until she’s pinching a small amount on each side. She hums, pulling back from Harry and looking at the fit of them now, examining whether that makes them look better.

Then she nods and smiles up at Harry, “Ever the slender waist,” he grins right back as she admires him. She knew how much he liked praise and she was happy to give it to him, especially when he was so deserving. “I’d say size down, but then your thighs and bum might strain the fabric too much.” His face turns to a smirk as she blushes at her words. She releases the fabric and takes a hand to pat Harry’s smooth chest before walking back to her seat on the lovely couch.

“You sure you don’t want to try anything on, Y/N? Saw some killer boots when we walked in that screamed you.” Harry calls from behind the curtain, presumably getting redressed. Her laugh comes through the curtain slightly muffled, yet still a sweet melody in Harry’s ears.

“Definitely not now, we’re leaving any minute. Plus, I’ve got plenty of Gucci boots, don’t even show me them or I’ll be tempted.”

His laughter rings through the curtains, loud and unrestrained. She smiles to herself, unable to discourage the pleasure that weaves through her at the sound. His presence in all the different ways she experienced it was instantly comforting.

When she arrives back to her London flat, she practically flops on her couch once she’s inside the door. Her luggage forgotten at the door, as she shrugs off her coat. It was around 7 am because she had chosen to take the red eye for some reason. She groaned as she thought about the day ahead of her. Even though Harry was halfway across the globe, she still had plenty of work to do. She had to finalize the outfits for the listening parties now that they had the pants to complete the looks. Then she had to start thinking about Harry’s December appearances. She had sent ahead his Late Late outfits that he had needed in Los Angeles for the pre-filming, but she still had to deal with the outfits for the live part of the show.

Today, she was set to go pick up the other pieces needed for the listening parties as well as items for the Graham Norton Show and Jingle Ball. She was most excited for her travels because that meant looking at brand new clothes that were perfect and gorgeous. She also knew she needed to spot clean Harry’s shirt, which didn’t spark as much joy in her tired mind.

The idea of the shirt staining with alcohol was what brought her out of her snuggling with her comfy couch. Sure, it couldn’t get that bad, but still she was a worrier and it would pain her if the iconic shirt got ruined. She padded back over to her luggage, now without her jacket or shoes. Her major suitcase got flipped on its side and she began to unzip it. It came open easily seeing as it was stuffed with her clothes and various items. She had to rummage a minute for Harry’s shirt that seemed to have run away inside the bag. Finally, the large white shirt made itself known and she grasped it happily.

As she looked over the stain near the collar of the shirt, her eyes traveled to a piece of fabric peeking out of her suitcase. It was a familiar blue, cream and white. A specific fabric she would never misplace, would never not recognize. Harry’s plaid Bode jacket. It was iconic and she loved it, but why did she have it in her suitcase. She definitely didn’t mean to have it, it’s genuinely just one of Harry’s jackets so it wouldn’t make sense for her to bring it back with the show's wardrobe. She tries to think back to yesterday, when she was still in New York. Thinking about why she would have it, she places the memories of Harry coming to her room, taking off his coat, and accidentally leaving it in her room all fit together. She must have just absentmindedly placed it in her suitcase without even realizing. She’s sure Harry wouldn’t mind, she’d shoot him a text, though, to tell him she had it. So he wouldn’t worry about whether he’d lost it or not.

When she gets ready for the day, she finds herself being drawn to blue and cream. Her outfit is understated and she just knows the jacket would finish the look. She loved that jacket and now that she had it, would it be a big deal if she wore it out. She figured it was fine. After she grabbed her purse, keys, and other essentials, she slipped on the coat. Harry was very broad shouldered and it hung oversized on her. She loved the look and snapped a selfie in the mirror before she headed out. While it felt a little narcissistic to constantly take photos of herself, she felt like as a stylist it was important to document her looks just as much as she documented her clients.

What she didn’t think about is just how much the rest of the world liked to document her client and those who were seen with her client. She didn’t think about how she had just been seen with Harry yesterday. That thought didn’t even cross her mind as she walked around the streets of London picking up her work. As she saw some photographers out and about (whom she assumed were for famous celebrities, not her). How it might seem with her wearing the Bode jacket Harry had worn on SNL two nights ago. The Bode jacket that there were only two of.

None of it crossed her mind. Not until it was the end of the day and she had a whole slew of texts from Harry’s manager. A few from Harry, and others but the other fifteen were solely from Jeff. She was a bad texter so as she walked into her flat and finally looked at her phone after putting down all of her garment bags her eyes went wide.

Please tell me you’re not out in London right now!

What are you wearing??

That cannot be Harry’s jacket Y/N

Seriously?

Please call me.

CALL ME. NOW.

- All from Jeff.

She grimaced. The others from her friends including Harry would have to be ignored right now. Even if Harry was her boss, Jeff was who she had to deal with when it came to public appearances and it didn’t seem like she could get around this one. Normally, she never had to deal with him, but it seems today wasn’t normal.

part 2

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sapphire-innit · 3 years

Text

DRISTAAAAA TIMEEE

VOD: TommyInnit Speaks To Dream’s Sister AGAIN

(rp): Drista!! I love this chaotic child and am looking forward to seeing the children bully each other lmao. I especially love the mythos around Creative mode, and that the most benevolent god on the Dream SMP is just as likely to ban you as hand you a shulker box lol.

I do wonder how in character cc!Tommy is going to be able to stay during this stream: on one hand he’s a master at staying in character even during lh moments, and on the other Exile arc is some Dark Shit and Dristas like what, 14?? Overall I expect this to be one of the lighter streams, with a smattering of moments where we remember that, oh right, Tommy’s pretty actively suicidal at this point and he sees this as one of his last hurrahs.

Speaking of our boy Tommy: it's very clear we are getting closer and closer to the infamous pillar. He switches rapidly between Fight and Fawn reflexes and has mostly internalized Dream’s treatment and conditions at this point. The one stand out moment being him calling out Dream killing Mexican Dream last stream, and pointing out he was changing his story even when Dream tried to lie and say he died of “a drug overdose [...] or natural causes”. I’m curious if Tommy is going to bring it up again, and even more curious if he eventually believes Dream about it; something to watch out for, for sure. I don’t think it’s a coincidence that this moment of rebellion happened right after he had someone both stand up for him and spend time with him that wasn’t actively hostile or going to end (supposedly, at least by intention)

Hey we didn’t start off drowning for once!! cc!Tommy was also singing, though that could have been mostly out of character as well. Still, remarkably in a better mood, he even mentions having an appetite! You love to see it, and it's clearly because he’s looking forward to Drista’s visit

He’s building a log tower and on one hand, Tommy building Towers is a natural state of being, and on the other…. I know the pillar is coming and I am scared

A mention of the Anti-Dream hole… I still worry about when exactly and how Dream is going to find it. Still, I’m glad it exists, both for Tommy having a space for things important to him, as well as what it represents about his mental state re:not giving over completely to Dream

DRISTA!!!! LOL she was already online we didn't even see her join LOL. CHAOS GREMLIN she just flew over in creative mode and started wrecking shit, as is her right lmaoooo

“You massive jer--, (quieter) whats a nicer way…, YOU MASSIVE DICKHEAD” oh, Tommy..

I like how he tries to punch her even when shes CLEARLY IN CREATIVE MODE ADSADASD

The violence inherent in fourteen year olds,,,, adsfsadfsdfds

I hate this conversation why is this the conversation asdffdsfsd TEENAGERS

DREAM YOUR NOT EVEN A TEENAGER WHY ARE YOU FOLLOWING THE SAME LOGIC

Well SHE can destroy the obsidian asdfsdfds She just Spleefs

“What would Dream do” Probably worse lets be honest

Is he actually gonna go back to L’manburg?? I don’t believe it but I also want :(

Again with the stabbing

AND DOWN HE GOEEEESSSS

“I have the fork, but I'm also killing you” afsafsdfdsf Tommy why are you wearing your good shit omg

Lol cc!Dream trying to defend his character for mocking Tommy’s accent adsfsdfds “I would NEVER” in the totally not believable tone lmaoooo

DID SHE REALLY GO AT HIM WITH A FORK I'M FUCKING DYING DSAFDADSFDS

“I will take it from you and I’ll kill him”... I have so many thoughts about how this works in lore. Is Drista possessing Dream? He can kick her out clearly, but she still has God Powers…

Lol and now SHES mocking his accent lmaoooo (... is it bad she sounded pretty close to me? lol)

Adsfdsfswd casual chaos Drista just broke the Nether Portal

Asking Drista to stop destroying things is a big ask to be honest lmaoo. Also she seems to be at least somewhat informed that ‘Dream is not supposed to be nice to Tommy’ or at least seemed hesitant to do /weather clear

GOD THE LAVA BUCKETS AND THE POTION OF HARMING adsfsdfsdf

“Tommy [beheaded him] actually… and killed Mexican Dream” Dream you motherfucker

“How to Sex 3” THE PANIK!!!!!! From Both cc!Dream and Tommy!!! This server is Not Child Friendly lol (Doesn’t…. That not even include sex things…. afasfsd)

Honestly I can’t stop smiling this is so wholesome somehow even with all the cursing and violence

Pigstep IS a bop, Tommy is right

“Just let him, just let him this one time” :(

“Tommy I still have the Fork” Drista totally willing to stab her brother to visit L’manburg

HE TOOK THE FORK ASDASDAS

Yes, closing your eyes will totally protect you from Forks lol

“I don’t need school, I dropped out” Is this Lore Crumbs, is this Lore

HEYYYY ITS THE BEDROCK, the one piece of bedrock he has lol, I think he still has that in current day right?

Drista is writing her name in BEDROCK adsfsdfds “I’m not going to be able to get rid of that actually” “That's the Point”

LOL SHe also recognized the burrito as from Mos lmaooo

Somehow “I really want to go to the other place.. I don’t know why he won’t let you” hit hard… it was def ooc, and she doesn’t have the full context, but still… its just someone else wanting and asking for Tommy to be able see L’manburg…

Afsdfsd the Small Gasp when she spleefs herself omgg

HES THERE!!! HES THERE!!!!!! L’MANBURG!!!!!!

Punz!!! WHY!!!! Were you there bc Drista might let Tommy through, was this a safeguard for the LORE. Also he’s currently working for Dream directly right, as a merc?

Drista trying to save Tommy!!!! Punz why are you winning a fight with someone in creative adfsadfsd He’s too good lol

They have negotiated a visit… I’m so emotional I wasn’t expecting this…. No one told me we got a real L’manburg visit !

BIG Q SHES FOURTEEN!!! Omg they didn’t tell him it was Drista. BIG Q!!! BIG Q DON’T SELL HER DRUGS

“He was Naked” good for you Drista, good for you. There’s something so hilarious about Drista just stabbing Quackity over and over again cause she’s uncomfortable lol (as is her right)

LOL THE FINAL KILL WITH MAGIC WHEN HE’S ALREADY DROWNING IM

Wha --- what video was it????? What is this Tommy picture on the Technoganda???

….”are you sure I’m allowed here” Dream’s conditioning is strong :(

“At many minute I could get mugged” To be Fair Tommy, that was true before

Did Tommy just suggest spawning in a Wither asdfsdfds

DRISTA DOG ARMY!!!! Aww and Tommy has one too~

THE BENCH!! THE HOUSE!!! Aaaaaaaaa He’s sitting on the bench nature is HEALING

AAAAAAAA A BLAZE!!!! Pfffft

…. Who destroyed the front of Tommys house?

,,,,Drista what are you doing with that soULSAND

“OK we'll turn on him” adsfsdfsd

OH HEY TECHNO!!! Lol “Oh god he meant me” fucking mood big man

……. Tubbo hallucination……… fuck

LOL HE COMBAT LOGGED “YOU CALL THAT COMBAT” I'M

To be fair, logging against a /kill is probably the only way to get away lmao

…...F

“Getting thrown off a cliff is literally how Theseus died!!” lol its also hilarious to me that Tommy def does not remember being called that. Personally I don't think it fits him super well anyway, but I do like it as something Techno calls Tommy, that shows how much he misjudges Tommy's character and intentions. No heroes here, just a kid trying to do good by their friends and what they care about

Techno actually looking up how to kill someone in creative mode

…. :( I just want my actual clingyduo content this is meeeeannn

OH HEY TECHNO …. You fucker he would and it would be HILARIOUS (get mad if Drista opped Techno that is lol)

….

IS THIS WHY THEY’RE BEDROCK BROS????? BECAUSE THEY BOTH HAVE DRISTA BEDROCK??????????????????????????

HOW DID I NOT KNOW THIS ???

LOL TRUE DUO SUPREMACY TUBBO’S GOT TECHNO'S BEDROCK

Oh F Techno got him with the Obliterator lmaoooo

“I have 114 levels PLEASE” asdfdasfsdf

LOL Tubbo with the TNT there's our nuke boy, I'll take my crumbs where I can get them

THE SHULKER HOLY SHIT

“Don't let someone get it!!”” ADSFDSAFSDFDS they all tuRN CC REAL QUICK WHEN THE SHULKER BOXES COME OUT

Awesamdudes like: MORE PLEASE AFDASFDSF

Techno immediately snitching about Elytra and dRISTA GETTING THE ACHIEVEMENT

EVERYONE SNITCHING IN CHAT I'M!!!! DREAMS REACTION ASDFSDFDSF

Drista being the chaotic giver of illegal gifts is so fucking good I'M THRIVING

THE RUN ON PUNZ !!!! omg

Also can we just take a minute to appreciate Tommy being allowed around people <3 <3 This is so wholesome and good and chaotic as all hell

“I thought I was Tom Cruz for like a whole week” ...TOMMY??

LOL SHE BANNED TECHNO OMG

Dristas on a banning Rampage afsdfsdf

BAN GOGGY OMGGG

Omg shes actually making a wITHER DASDASDFAS

Oh no poor Tubbo I didn’t know he was liVE

319k viewers jeezus

Awwwww Techno hyping up Wilbur's song :) that's so sweet actually

…………….Fuck you Dream :( saw the chance to Twist the Knife in c! And TOOK IT

LOL THE FUCKING FORK IS THE BEST BIT LOLLLL

Lol ironically the Bedrock bros song is the oNE COPYRIGHTED ONE, god why did Minecraft ever copyright Pigstep what a shit move honestlyyy

Pigstep fucking goING TO TECHNO LOLLLLLL “this is the most powerful item on the server since it DMCA’s people”

LOL PUNZ TRYING TO STEAL ANOTHER SHULKER

Poor Sam he actually has to BUILD give this man a SHULKER

Lol Everyone wants a shulker so much

….aww he tried to toss the pigstep disc lmaooo DRISTAS LITERALLY HOLDING IT Scaaaaaammmmed

Drista “I NEED IT ON HAND” So committed to violence !!!

The fucking creepers on the way out omg fuckign PERFECT

LOL TOMMY WASN’T READY FOR THE TURN AROUND ON CURSING LMAO You can tell he's always been the youngest who people aren't sure how much they can curse around lmao He's so soft honestly he talks such a big game and then CRUMBLES when called on it lol

Asfdsfs she fell through the same hole again afsdfsdfsd

Drista has been introduced to a Weapon and she’s gotten ATTACHED lmaooo

Wait HOLD THE PHONE Dream has multiple sisters??? Lol

“Yeah I like Shit” Dream: “whAT???”

Bye Drista it’s been nice!!! I hope she had a good time, she seems like a good kid (who is definitely not a content creator lol though she keeps up admirably)

Drista’s one of the few people who can make Tommy speechless lmaooo he looks actually shocked lol

Also first mention of GhostInnit…. cc!Tommy…..

Keep preparing…. Was his original plan to rush Dream even if (maybe especially if…) he died? Fuck man

Also holy shit was this stream right before Quackitys? ? amazing

This was honestly such a BLAST and a really good time, and I can see why its viewed as one of the few breaks we get during Exile :) I feel so refreshed and it was so so nice to have Tommy hanging out in L’manburg having fun with his friends (even if Tubbo was stuck being a Hallucination and Also Banned lol) No deeper insight, I just haven’t stopped smiling for an hour and a half <3

#dream smp liveblog #dsmp exile arc #tommyinnit #drista #technoblade #dreamwastaken #the shulker man the SHULKER #Ive been hearing about that for AGES glad to see the actual footage

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bratkook · 4 years

Text

queen of broken hearts. jjk (m) part three.

“Tell me i’m the worst, make you cry and make you hurt, i’m the queen bow down to me, I will leave you out to bleed.”

part one. part two.

pairing: jungkook x reader genre: angst but theres a happy ending yay word count: 7.4k warnings: nothing crazy this time, just mentions of the explicit polaroid photo, an attempt at infidelity, oc is still a liar who doesn’t deserve anything author’s note: ok i couldn’t not write a third part of this to tie it all up and give you guys the happy ending jk deserves so here it is, i hate this oc and love that all of you hate her too lmaooo

Jungkook glances down at his phone, seeing the text he had just sent. A simple string of letters that spelled ‘i’m outside’, a familiar pattern his fingers had memorized. Except for the first time in a very long time the text wasn’t being sent to you.

The device pings with a response from Taehyung, stating he was on his way down, so he locks it once more and sets it underneath his radio in his car. Jungkook grunts as he catches on to the lyrics ringing in his car and skips the song currently playing, it was one of your favorite songs and once he listened to the lyrics he felt like it was a direct jab at him, especially when you had asked him to download it with that same smile that lead to heartbreak. That didn’t stop him doing as you asked, just because you liked it so much.

The amount of times the song I Feel Bad by Blackbear had played in his car as he left your place had nudged it up the algorithm, making his phone constantly play it when he shuffled all of his songs. He needed to fully delete it from his library.

Jungkook had to admit he was doing pretty good, it was going on 6 weeks and you were still blocked from his instagram. He had even gone as far as making his page private to prevent you from lurking, he doubted you’d go to that extent though, not as desperate to see Jungkook’s life play out without you in it. Surely you had moved on to the next shiny toy.

The only thing he had yet to do was block your number, the small no dignity having part of him hoped that maybe you’d reach out, maybe you’d apologize for anything and everything, maybe you’d wake up and realize how you truly felt for him.

That never happened.

Your thread of messages was bone dry, taunting him in his inbox so much he had to delete it all to stop himself from typing out a message at 3am in sheer desperation. He wouldn’t be reaching out and it was clear you wouldn’t be either.

“Hey man.” Taehyung greets him as he pulls the passenger door open, sliding in with ease and slamming it shut behind him. Jungkook blinks back to reality, giving his friend a small smile as they shake their hands in the playful way they always did.

“Jimin’s not with you?” He wonders, expecting the other boy to have come down with him since they all had plans together.

Taehyung shakes his head as he settles into the seat, adjusting his messy hair in the visor and buckling up just as Jungkook pulls out of the parking spot. “Nah, he’s at his apartment. He told you he’s bringing someone with him right?”

Jungkook frowns at that because no, Jimin hadn’t mentioned bringing anyone along with him and he really hoped it wasn’t a girl. The last thing he wanted was to be subjected to seeing them swap spit when they were meant to be having a guys day. It seemed a little stupid for Jungkook to hope for that but he had grown to appreciate spending more time with his friends lately, once again realizing just how much of his time you had consumed, always ditching the plans he had with his friends to go get his dick wet and his heart shredded.

“It’s some guy that just started working with him.” Taehyung fills in, taking the initiative to be in charge of the music because Jungkook’s current mix was sort of depressing. He frowns as he scrolls through the artists, choosing to type someone in to play music that wasn’t in his library.

When the beginning sounds of a hit Bad Bunny song fill the car Jungkook nearly swerves as he whips his head to stare at Taehyung bobbing along, “Since when the fuck do you know spanish?”

“I don’t, you just gotta vibe along.” He proves his statement by proceeding to horribly sing along in broken spanish, but his energy is contagious, spreading to Jungkook until he was eventually dancing along with him. The two of them making up their own moves on the short drive to Jimin’s and Taehyung can’t help but feel successful at making his friend have a good time. It had been a while since Jungkook behaved like his usual self.

Him and Jimin still didn’t know about you but after he had decided to block you he had fallen into a tiny pit of despair, returning to the shell of himself that they had seen during the weeks you had ghosted him. It took a lot of coaxing before they were able to pull him out, not asking any questions about anything no matter how much their curiosity itched.

They knew their best friend was hurting so they tried their best to do whatever they could to make it better, constantly reaching out to drag him out of his one bedroom apartment, making plans he couldn’t say no to, being the best wing men they could whenever they hit up bars. It had worked though, they had managed to fill up the small you shaped void inside of him enough for him to be able to ignore.

He never really thought of you until he was completely alone, usually when the sky was the darkest and he had trouble sleeping, remembering the countless nights you’d text him to come over when you were also restless. On nights like that he’d force himself to take a sleeping aid, not wanting flashbacks of you underneath him to wear down his strength when he had been doing so well.

So far so good.

“Is this Bad Bunny?” Jimin instantly asks when he enters the car, having already been waiting outside of his complex with his friend beside him.

“Yeah!” Taehyung laughs, turning the volume up slightly.

Jimin just shakes his head as he slides over in his seat, giving Jungkook a similar greeting before his friend follows suit. He’s a silver haired guy with sharp eyes, a small smile being sent Jungkook’s way as Jimin introduces him. “Oh, this is Yoongi, he just became Jamba Juice’s newest bitch.”

Taehyung shoots him a sympathetic look, he had worked along side Jimin a few months ago before quitting in a fit of rage so he knew how unpleasant the job was. “My condolences.”

Yoongi just chuckles, nodding in acceptance, not attempting to deny that the job was hell on earth but it paid alright so he’d just suck it up. “Jimin never shuts up about the two of you at work.”

Jungkook laughs at that as he starts to drive once more, wondering just what Jimin said about them while on the clock, they had all been friends for years so he really had an infinite amount of stories to bring up.

Whatever he had said about them must have been good enough because Yoongi fits right in, balancing out Taehyung’s crude sense of humor with his own, being made aware of some of the inside jokes they all had together and continuing them with ease.

Jungkook begins thinking that he wouldn’t mind Yoongi becoming a part of their group, he had a pretty easy going personality and didn’t protest when Taehyung ended up dragging all of them to some random flea market near by.

Unfortunately it all slowly starts to crumble on the drive towards the restaurant Jimin wanted to try.

“Hey Jungkook, do you have a phone charger?” Jimin asks from the back seat, glaring at the dwindling percentage on his phone due to him now being in charge of the music selection because Taehyung was adamant on playing reggaeton and they were all sick of it.

Jungkook hums in confirmation, too busy staring at his own phone screen for the directions to notice that Jimin was already opening up his center console to grab the cord that he knew was always there.

The photo that greets him as he opens it up definitely isn’t always there though, the shiny polaroid of you looking directly into the lens stares right at Jimin and he immediately recognizes you as the girl from the diner.

“Woah, this is dirty Kook.” He laughs out, trying his best to avert his eyes from the salacious photo and pull out the charger he was originally searching for.

“What?” Taehyung asks, peeking over and gasping obnoxiously when he spots the photo too. He’s not as caring as Jimin is, grabbing the photo from the edges and bringing it up close and personal to his face for a better view.

“Who the fuck is this?” He asks as he stares at the picture with a goofy smile on his face. He tilts the polaroid side to side to look through the glare the sun provides but the raunchy act caught on film is clear as day. Jungkook carries a photo of some girl sucking his dick in his car, what a perv.

Jungkook finally looks up and when he sees the polaroid in Taehyung’s hand he feels his heart drop, reaching across and trying to snatch it but he falls short. Taehyung scoots further in his seat, holding the photo higher up and screaming when the car swerves as Jungkook lurches across his seat and tries to reach for it once more.

“It’s just some girl.” Jungkook grunts as he steadies the car again, his face burning hot as he hears Jimin laughing along in the backseat. Leave it to his friends to act like they’ve never seen more explicit photos, parading it around like it’s the first x-rated polaroid they’ve ever seen as if they didn’t have a collection of ridiculous porn bookmarked onto their phones.

The way Taehyung’s currently holding the photo up gives Yoongi a clear view of it and as his eyes lock onto yours he tilts his head slightly. What was Jungkook doing with a photo of you, covered in cum with his dick in your mouth.

“Is she your girlfriend?” Jimin teases, placing his hands on his shoulders and laughing louder when Jungkook finally snatches the photo from his friends grasp, swatting the side of his head for good measure before stuffing it back into the center console and slamming it shut.

“No, she’s mine.” Yoongi finally speaks up, leaning back into his seat and staring at the back of Jungkook’s head as he drove. A small smile is on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest, the entire car falling into a dead silence, no one wanting to break it until they knew how serious this was.

Taehyung is half expecting this to become a world star beat down whereas Jimin can’t tell if he’s joking or not, his eyes bouncing back and forth between Yoongi and Jungkook. He sort of wishes he had never asked for a charger now.

Jungkook can’t get himself to say anything, his fingers gripping his steering wheel tighter as his mind starts to spin, desperately waiting for the joking laughter to ensue but it never comes.

Could he really be your boyfriend? Had you been with Yoongi even when you were going on dates with Namjoon or was Yoongi new. Then came the twist of the knife when he realizes that if Yoongi was new, filling in Jungkook’s shoes now that he was gone, you had seen him in a better light than you’d ever see Jungkook in, making him your boyfriend in a few weeks when Jungkook’s known you for years.

“Why do you have a photo of Y/N giving you head?” Yoongi asks, a little caught off guard by the situation. The two of you weren’t officially dating yet but considering he had met your family it felt a little unnerving to see a photo of you like that with someone that wasn’t him.

He’s not upset at Jungkook, he can see how flustered he is, but he needed some form of explanation before he filed you under cheater in his mind.

“It’s an old photo.” Jungkook can barely get out, wanting to shrivel up at the awkward tension filling up the car.

“How old?”

“Over a month ago.” That admittedly wasn’t that old and it doesn’t do much to settle Yoongi’s uncertainty but he decides not to push it, the only person who needed to explain was you.

“I can toss the photo if you want me to.” Jungkook suggests, he had forgotten about the photo after he stuffed it into the center console when he left your house and although he would like to keep it, now that the cat was out of the bag and your new boy of interest had seen it, he felt a little wrong holding on to it. What were the fucking odds.

Yoongi shakes his head, it was a photo taken from your camera and you obviously knew it was being taken, if Jungkook wanted to keep it for whatever weird reason that was his call, for all he knew Jungkook was one of your exes.

“Just maybe don’t keep it in your car man.” Yoongi suggests, his fingers itching by his side with the want to text you for an explanation but he knows he needs to play his cards right to get an actual answer from you.

Jungkook takes Yoongi’s suggestion as a demand, the second he gets back home after they finished hanging out he pockets the photo once more and decides to shove the photo deep into his underwear drawer. Hopefully it’s something he’ll forget about and stumble upon in a few years and not feel the same gutted emotions he does now.

Jungkook knows he’s only hurting himself further by allowing a fragile string to continue to tie the two of you together but its the small tinge of hope that maybe one day he’d feel a tug from the string in your direction that prevents him from snipping it.

As he lays in bed he feels a similar dark shadow start to fall over him, reminiscent to the one that had nearly swallowed him whole weeks ago. The only plus side to this was that he now knew that you had moved on, something that should help him think straight, not let his memories get warped until you’re seen as this sweet angel that never did him any wrong.

The other plus side was that he didn’t get his ass beat by Yoongi, the boy had swept it under the rug and went about the rest of the day as if nothing had happened. He was unaware that Yoongi was at your place now with Jungkook being the topic of discussion.

Yoongi was currently trying his best to not burn a hole in your floor as he paced back and forth on your carpet with you staring at him looking as comfortable as ever on your bed. How you looked like that when he had just interrogated you on your relationship with the other boy was beyond him.

He wasn’t even sure if you were lying to him or not, your answers seemed too practiced to be truthful, too thought out for him to fully believe. The second he had brought Jungkook up it was like your brain went into autopilot and the perfect answers he was looking for just spilled out.

But somewhere along the line you said something that rubbed him the wrong way, a phrase that made him double take when you implied that Jungkook meant absolutely nothing to you, how it was all fun and games and Yoongi didn’t buy that for a second. The defeated look on Jungkook’s face throughout the rest of the day showed Yoongi how he felt and it sure as hell didn’t look like absolutely nothing.

Even if you and Jungkook weren’t serious, the way you were speaking about him, with no sympathy or regard to how he felt it made Yoongi a little uncomfortable. Had you said that Jungkook was horrible, treated you like garbage or anything that warranted this sort of reaction he could understand but you just seemed so emotionless.

“You don’t care about him?” Theres been an evil glint in your eye ever since Yoongi mentioned Jungkook, the slight anger you felt at him treating you how you treated him resurfacing at his name. You don’t even know why he’s asking you this, did he want you to say you didn’t care about him to boost his own ego or did he want you to say you did to see if your feelings lied deeper?

“Why should I?” Your tone is cold and Yoongi is a little caught off guard at how quickly you’re able to turn off the bubbly personality he had been drawn to in the beginning.

“I mean considering you let him photograph you sucking his dick I’m not really buying this whole facade you have going on right now.”

A small laugh fills the room and Yoongi can only stare at you, briefly wondering if this was some sort of joke because the way you’re acting now is the polar opposite to the you he’s known for the past month. You just found the situation laughable, you always covered your tracks, careful enough to not trip over your own lies but your edge must be wearing off.

“There’s no facade.” You reply calmly, hoping the soft look in your eyes is convincing enough for him but it’s not. Yoongi knows he must be on to something, the minute he brought Jungkook up he saw the way your demeanor changed and now he wasn’t sure if you were just down right heartless or playing it off.

“You honestly don’t have any empathy for other people do you?” He shoots out, looking directly at you and seeing the way your eyes lose their sweetness, narrowing in size as you try your best not to glare at him but he can see right through it. He can tell he’s digging a little too close to uncharted territory but he was sick of the mystery that was you, never knowing where anything stood because you were too selfish to think of other people’s emotions due to your actions.

“Is that really what you’re focused on.”

“Yeah, a little.” He scoffs in disbelief, “I don’t really want to find out my girlfriend’s a fucking sociopath years down the line.”

You laugh again at that, leaning back on your arms as you sit on your bed, “Girlfriend?” The look you give him makes him stumble over his words for the first time, realizing that you hadn’t ever put a label on what you were and now feeling a little embarrassed by your condescending tone.

You honestly don’t even know why you react the way you do, you actually liked Yoongi, could see this becoming something serious, but the way he was exposing your faults, making you see the parts of you that desperately needed work, it rubbed you the wrong way so you needed to knock him down a few pegs. A classic self sabotaging move you always did, not being able to bite down the hurtful words you knew you’d throw his way.

“You think I’m your girlfriend?” You ask, only rubbing salt onto the slowly opening wound and he almost winces but he can see that this is your defense mechanism so he doesn’t let it burn as much as he knows it should.

“Is that what you’re gonna turn this into?” He counters, a displeased look on his face, “Trying to hurt my feelings because I’m asking you pretty justified questions is a low blow Y/N.”

That shuts you up, the next batch of spiteful words you were ready to shoot his way dissolving on your tongue when you see the way he looks at you. You’d expect him to be angry, visibly upset at what you had said but instead he just looks tired.

“Look, I obviously struck a nerve bringing him up because this–“ he motions to you, making you realize how tense your body had become, “isn’t the you I know, so whenever you decide to put your fangs away and talk about your buried emotions let me know.”

You don’t even know how to respond to the way he shut you down with ease, your eyes only showing more of your confusion when he steps forward and kisses the top of your head, “Goodnight.” Is all he says before turning around to leave your room and apartment altogether.

“Goodnight.” You weakly mumble out as he shuts the door behind him, completely throwing you off the course of events you were sure were about to transpire.

The anger you felt inside slowly starts to fizzle out until all you feel is sick, a pit of disgust brewing inside of you at the way you had behaved. Not just with him but with Jungkook.

This had become a regular feeling for you ever since Jungkook decided to throw you aside, being the main reason you had decided to hold on to Yoongi when you had met him by chance, needing something to distract you so the guilt you felt wouldn’t drive you into doing something you knew you’d regret.

The amount of times you wanted to reach out to him during these last few weeks was concerning for you, never really realizing just how much you relied on him when you needed to get out of your head. The slow clarity that he had always been quick to come to you and offer help in any way he could while you always shut him down, diverting questions when he’d ask what was wrong because you were scared of him getting too close, all it had done was burn him.

You had left him scarred and wounded as he laid on his bed, contemplating smothering himself with his pillow as he regretted his life choices that landed him in this situation. It’s the selfish side of you that has you opening up your phone and calling his number without a second thought, you keep it on speaker and toss it on the bed, half expecting it to go directly to voicemail since you were sure he had blocked your number too, but it continues to ring.

Jungkook nearly bolts up in shock when the phone by his head starts to vibrate and light up, his squinting eyes staring at the screen and freezing when he sees your name displayed on it. He feels like he stops breathing as his phone buzzes on his comforter, it was now clear that Yoongi had in fact brought him up to you and he was pretty sure if he answered the phone it would not go in his favor.

He lets it ring until it eventually goes to voicemail, his phone dimming down once more and he finally relaxes. It only lasts a brief moment, his phone buzzing once more with a text this time and he doesn’t want to open it.

Instead he grabs the device and stuffs it in between his mattress and box spring, shutting his eyes and taking a deep breath before sliding back into bed and forcing himself to sleep.

It doesn’t come easy for either of you, he’s constantly tossing and turning on his bed, having to shove his hands under his butt to get them to stop creeping toward the side his phone was tucked under. You on the other hand are constantly checking your phone when you wake up every few minutes, phantom rings pulling you from your slumber and hoping Jungkook responded to your text but every time you blindly stare at the brightness of your screen you’re met with nothing, not even the read display that usually appeared.

It’s not until the sun peaks over the horizon, the soft orange illuminating the inside of Jungkook’s room and waking him up, that he feels his resolve cracking. He tries to blame it on his half asleep state, not being awake enough to know right from wrong but he’s way too aware of the way his fingers move and latch on to his device as he pulls it from its hiding spot.

It takes him a moment to build up the courage to open up your message, half expecting a massive paragraph with you telling him off for whatever reason but the only thing that greets him is a short ‘can we talk please’.

He’s not sure what makes him wary, the fact that you want to talk or you using the word please. Jungkook’s fingers hover over the keyboard, not sure if he should even respond to you. This was what he wanted though isn’t it? The main reason he had decided not to block your number, hoping you’d reach out and explain yourself. But now that you had done the first half he wasn’t sure he wanted to see it through.

Still, his fingers take over and type out a quick response.

jungkook 7:49am : talk about what

The buzzing wakes you up instantly, your phone clutched to your chest in the same position you had fallen asleep in with the hope that he’d respond.

It’s a little surprising to see that he doesn’t immediately agree like he normally does, dropping whatever he was doing to come to your place like he used to but you guess it was called for.

y/n 7:50am : i just want to clear the air

y/n 7:50am : do you wanna have breakfast?

He hates that he feels the tiniest spark of excitement inside of him at you asking him out for breakfast, something he had been wanting forever, but his fingers shake too much as he holds the device, his body reminding him of the withdraws he had already gone through once before. He couldn’t do this again.

jungkook 7:54am : i don’t think thats a good idea

You can only stare at your screen, not knowing how to respond to his message. It was your own selfish desire to fix things, to help ease the guilt off your chest, that made you want to persuade him to do what you asked but when your phone vibrates a second time you know his mind is set and it’s best to leave it alone.

jungkook 7:57am : please don’t message me again, it’s better this way.

You once again feel the familiar twist in your chest, more so when you respond with a simple okay and your bubble turns green before a notification pops up stating the message could no longer be delivered. Jungkook had been the one to weld the chest shut this time, blocking your number to finalize it before locking his phone once more and begging himself to go about his day as if the curiosity of what you wanted to tell him wasn’t eating him alive.

“Jungkook you need oyster sauce and soy sauce, they’re not interchangeable!” Jimin scolds when Jungkook places the oyster sauce back onto the self, his hand once again swiping it off and placing it into the basket he was currently holding.

“Damn sorry, I told you I don’t know what I’m doing.” Jungkook groans, giving his friend a pout that goes ignored because he’s too focused on running through the list he had on his phone to ensure nothing was forgotten.

Jimin was in charge of helping Jungkook out today on his date, it was Valentines day and Jungkook had been dating his girlfriend for a few months now and wanted to make this date a little more special than just eating out. However, he wasn’t blessed with culinary skills so Jimin would be helping him out throughout it all and making a swift exit before his girlfriend would arrive for dinner.

Jungkook wanders off when he notices Jimin is still hyper focused on the array of sauces lined up in this aisle, ending up in the makeshift Valentines day aisle set up, the plush toys in pink and red all holding candies with cute sayings sewn on to the heart on their chests. It seemed too easy to just pick one up and settle with that so he gives himself a mission to do while Jimin finishes up the essentials.

He roams the entire store, grabbing a lavender wired bucket with enough of his girlfriend’s favorite candies to fill the bottom of it, along with that comes an elephant plushie that happened to be her favorite animal. Jungkook had spotted a bouquet of sunflowers by the front of the store so he makes his way in that direction once more, passing by Jimin who was looking for him but continuing on in his trek.

Just as he grabs the bouquet he wanted he hears his name being called and for a moment he thinks he imagined it, not being able to place the voice it belonged to but when it repeats itself much closer he turns around.

Jungkook is even more caught off guard when he spots your brother, looking nothing like the shy and awkward 13 year old he was back then. He hadn’t seen him since he stopped tutoring him nearly four years ago but he recognized the eyes that he shared with you.

“Jihoon?” He questions, smiling when the younger boy nods. He had always looked up to Jungkook, practically idolized him when he was tutoring him, wanting to be him in every aspect. Jungkook had been everything a nerdy 13 year old boy would want to be, adopting a similar clothing style to him that had managed to still stick around with age.

“I saw you and just had to come say hey.” Jihoon says, pulling him in for a typical bro hug.

Jimin huffs as he reaches Jungkook, having chased him down the aisles and finally catching up to him. He gives the younger boy a wave, a little confused as to who he is but when he hears your voice and spots you, it all clicks in his mind.

“Jihoon c’mon, we need to grab what dad wants!” You shout from the end of the aisle, not wanting to approach Jungkook to save yourself the embarrassment. You were still completely blocked off of everything, no form of communication happening between the two of you since that night. The town you lived in was small so it was kind of inevitable that you’d run in to him eventually but having it be today of all days, with him holding up Valentine’s day items just made it all a little more sour.

He looks up at the sound of your voice and gives you a faint smile because thats just who he is, it doesn’t pain him to look at you now though, the small void you had left inside of him nearly patched all the way up with time and distance.

“I know, but look who it is.” Your brother announces, completely unaware that you and Jungkook had very much stayed in contact after he finished tutoring him. You knew who it was, you were very familiar with Jungkook’s face and could probably spot the back of his head in a crowd.

“Hi Jungkook.” You muster out, slowly making your way down the aisle towards them because you knew your brother wouldn’t back off unless you came over and greeted his old tutor.

“How are things with Yoongi?” Jimin speaks up, a knife slicing through the tension and a knowing look on his face as he stares you down. He knew that you and Yoongi were no longer together, having to be the ear Yoongi vented to with all of your problems while at work and while hanging out, knowing that Yoongi had tried his best to make it work but you had been too stubborn, too stuck in your ways to even budge. Jimin knew enough about you now to be able to connect the dots to the way Jungkook had been so torn months prior. You were a bitch and he didn’t like you.

“Oh, we broke up.” You utter out, an odd look on your face because you had no idea who Jimin was or how he knew both Yoongi and Jungkook but you figure thats irrelevant now, staring back at Jungkook and seeing a neutral expression on his face.

Jihoon, not being able to read the room, asks Jungkook if hes buying groceries for a Valentines date tonight and Jungkook shyly confirms it, teasingly asking Jihoon if he had a date tonight as well. “Nah, haven’t hooked anyone onto me yet. Y/N and I are just helping our dad make something for our mom tonight.”

“Yeah speaking of that, we need to get going Jihoon.” You hope your brother can sense your tone, your fingers tempted to grab onto his hair and yank him away, needing him to move along and let you get as far from Jungkook as possible. That sinking feeling in your stomach had returned, only worsening when you realized how good he was doing, how unaffected he was at seeing you.

“Right, anyways, have a nice night with your girlfriend.” He sings with a playful wave as he retreats from the aisle to go back to shopping. You linger a little at the end of the aisle and stare at him for a moment longer, a small wave being sent his way that he reciprocates with a smile.

“Isn’t she polaroid girl?” Jimin grunts out as he readjusts the basket he was holding, already knowing the answer.

“Yeah.” Jungkook mumbles out, continuing to stare at the end of the aisle where you had disappeared, the polaroid being a distant memory in his mind after he had burned it.

“Babe,” Jungkook laughs into the receiver of his phone, resting against the cool exterior of the bar all of his friends were in, “I promise there wont be a repeat of last time.”

“That laugh means trouble Jungkook,” Sooyoung giggles back, already mentally preparing to baby Jungkook back to health when he undoubtably arrives home absolutely hammered, “If I have to hold your hand while you barf up everything and refuse water again I’m filing for divorce!”

Jungkook gasps dramatically, his hand placed over his heart as he hears the way his wife snickers, “Less than a month after and you’re already calling it quits?”

Sooyoung just hums along, sat on the couch of their house and flicking through the channels to find something to watch while their dog laid snuggled up by her feet, “Thats just how to cookie crumbles, unless,” she pauses, mentally picturing the way Jungkook raises his eyebrows as he waits, “you hold my hand while I barf next week when I go out with the girls.”

“You run a tough bargain, but I’ll even hold your hair back hows that?”

“Sounds perfect, be safe Kookie. I love you.” She smiles as the words leave her mouth, the fluttering affect he had on her never fading even after all this time.

“Always, I love you too.” He blushes as he makes a kissy noise, smiling wide when he hears one back before ending the call and and makes his way back inside, instantly spotting his friends gathered around the booth they had managed to snag.

When he makes his way over to them he slides in beside Taehyung, squishing him and Hobi into the booth and hearing them groan in protest.

“Are you done confessing your profound love for Sooyoung?” Jimin teases before throwing back a shot of vodka, he was already very loosened up, this being the second bar they visited due to celebrating Jimin’s wedding in a week.

“Shut up, as if I didn’t catch you literally on the verge of tears in the bathroom as you talked to Daehyun earlier.” Jungkook smiles when Jimin zips his mouth and locks it with an imaginary key, not denying any but of information Jungkook just spilled out. The rest of his friends howl in laughter at the secret, riling him up further and Jungkook decides his job here is done, getting up to order another drink and another round of shots for everyone else.

He leans over the counter and grabs the bar tenders attention with a soft wave of his hand, “Can I get a whiskey sour and another round of shots of tequila.” The woman nods, already having his card on a tab and begins making the drinks for him.

Jungkook settles into one of the stools there, getting comfortable as he waits, not yet sensing the eyes currently staring a hole through his temple from a few seats away.

You had spotted Jungkook walking in with his friends earlier, watching him step out for a phone call before coming back in again. He looked a little different from the last time you saw him, his hair a little longer now with a slight wave to it as it reached his cheekbones. The last time you had seen him was in passing at the same grocery store a few months ago, you had managed to duck into an aisle before he spotted you, being none the wiser that you were hiding from him.

Jungkook starts to feel the burning from his side of someone staring, slowly turning his head until his eyes meet your stunned ones. You expect him to look away, pretend he doesn’t know you and try to hide like you always do but instead he smiles at you, waving you over like you were an old friend of his.

It takes a few moments of building up courage before you get up from your spot and move across the three stools that separated you two with your drink in your hand.

“Hey, how have you been?” He asks with a soft grin, thanking the bar tender as she places his drink and the line of shots in front of him.

“I’ve been alright, Jihoon just moved out of state for work so my parents have been extra needy without someone to baby.” You force a smile back at him, your finger tracing the rim of your glass as you beg the awkwardness to leave, not used to having the underhand in situations like this.

“He’s gonna do great things I’m sure.” Jungkook sighs, taking a sip of his drink and humming at the taste. Looking at him now was like looking at an entirely different person, sure he had the same face but the way he carried himself was a stark contrast to the Jungkook you were accustomed to from three years ago, no longer second guessing himself, instead speaking with an aura of confidence and ease surrounding him.

“You know he never shut up about you once you stopped tutoring him?” You laugh, seeing the smile spreading on Jungkook’s face, “I remember that one time he begged my parents to buy him that one yellow jacket you own, he had to get straight A’s all semester before they got it for him and he never took it off.”

A genuine smile spreads across your lips as you reminisce on the times before, how you had taken them for granted and now seemed to grasp at anything that reminded you of it.

“We had something good going before, I’m sorry for ruining it.”

That catches Jungkook off guard, setting his drink down with a soft thud as he looks over at you fully, “I guess that depends what you consider good.” He jokes, proud that he can make light of a situation that used to leave him feeling wounded.

“You’re right, I’m sorry.” You cringe, not yet having the luxury of the past not affecting you. He watches on as you take a big gulp of your drink, wiping the excess that drips down your lip with your fingers.

“Don’t be, it’s water under the bridge.” He reassures you, reaching across the small gap between you two and placing his hand over yours when he notices the small trembles of nerves making them shake.

Your hand turns in his grasp, your fingers wrapping around his large ones in a search for comfort. The intentions you originally had when you first spot him leave you as your thumb traces the black band around his ring finger, a clear sign that he was off the market for good, making the words spoil in your mouth as you hold them back.

“Oh, when did this happen?” You ask softly, letting his hand go as he brings it up to spread his fingers out with a proud look on his face.

“About a month ago, I managed to trick someone into marrying me.” He jokes, a glimmer in his eyes as he recalls the day of his wedding, the happiness swelling his heart when he thinks of coming home to Sooyoung after the night is over.

“You never needed to trick someone into marrying you Kookie.” The sound of his nickname doesn’t feel right coming out of your mouth now, like nails to a chalkboard, no longer making his stomach flutter the way it used to.

“It felt like I did.” He admits with a shrug, remembering the years of him pining over you, making a fool of himself for the off chance that’d you one day see him for what he was worth. But like he said, it was all water under the bridge and seeing you here was a welcomed surprise to him now.

You want to say more to him but your tongue gets tied up, no longer having the list of phrases you were going to use when you spotted him. Jungkook catches on to the discomfort growing within you so he downs the rest of his drink to free his hands to be able to carry the shots to his thirsty friends.

“It was good seeing you.” His eyes are sincere as he stares at you for the last time, “I’ll see you around.” You know thats the truth, no doubt would you two run in to each other once more but you know this will be the closest interaction you’ll have. He still had you blocked on everything even years later, not knowing a single piece of information on you and leaving you in the dark about his. But this was just the way things were meant to be.

“Yeah, good seeing you too Jungkook.” You whisper out, watching him as he grasps the shot glasses and makes his way back to his friends, hollers and cheers filling up the bar at the sight of alcohol.

Jungkook slips back into his seat, passing the glasses around to everyone and raising them up to cheer for the end Jimin as an unmarried man. As he throws back the shot, nearly having it come out through his nose when he laughs as he sees the disgusted look Taehyung makes at the taste, he can’t stop himself from looking back in your direction.

You’re still sat on the stool, finishing up the rest of your drink and signing off your tab with a grin on your face. He eyes you curiously when you put your card away, your fingers sorting through your bag before pulling out a shiny diamond ring and slipping it back onto your ring finger.

He can’t help but feel a little disappointed at his realization, having almost fallen into the same web of lies you had intricately set up for him. Staring at him and knowing he’d catch you in the act, hoping to rope him in to bed one last time but the black band on his finger had been what broke the spell, making that same pit of disgust brew inside you and fill you with guilt at what you almost did.

As you walk out, eyes landing on Jungkook’s and noticing that he had spotted your own wedding band you give him that same shamless smile he had burned into his memory before slipping out of the bar altogether, returning home to your husband who would be none the wiser.

Jungkook just shakes his head as he reaches for another shot in the center of the table and throws it back, joining in with the laughter of his friends. Taehyung jostles him around as he recalls a story from the last time they were here but Jungkook’s mind is still focused on you.

Old habits died hard and it seemed like you never had any intention of changing. You may have left him shredded in a thousand parts but he took pride in being able to say that he put himself back together on his own, and when his phone lights up with a goofy selfie of his wife and their dog he realizes he had dodged a bullet, no longer hating the string of events that lead him to where he was now.

#ficswithluv #goldenclosetnet #btswritingcafe #btsghostie #yoonkooknetwork #jungkook smut #jungkook angst #jeon jungkook #jungkook scenarios #new

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cosmic-goddess-leo · 4 years

Text

The Boss

Bodyguard!Kuroo Tetsuro x Reader Mafia AU

Summary: The Violet Syndicate is plunged into chaos when the head of the family is killed in a mysterious accident. Amidst the whirlwind of suspicion and deception that follows this tragedy, Kuroo Tetsuro only knows one thing: Keep her safe.

Wordcount: 10k... my longest one ever lmaooo

Warnings: Mentions of death, violence, blood, SMUT

Author’s Note: Here it is, 1 of 6 of the oneshots I’ve written to celebrate my 1k follower milestone! Thank you all so much for all your support, and I hope you enjoy!

Kuroo Tetsuro was no fool.

He was sure the rest of the family was aware of this, after all he had been a part of it for 5 years after The Violet Syndicate acquired property, guns, money and men when they branched out to Tokyo.

But part of the syndicate having been formed in Miyagi meant the family factions based there were typically weary of those from the Tokyo based factions. It didn’t mean trouble for Kuroo and the rest of the Tokyo faction at the time of the acquisition, and things had run smoothly for the past five years.

All that of course came to an end when Akaashi, the Tokyo faction’s overseer, received a call, informing him that the head of the family had been in an accident.

Kuroo, being a bodyguard for the boss whenever he had business in Tokyo, of course insisted on accompanying Akaashi on the long trip to Miyagi to represent the Tokyo faction. But it was less out of obligation for his employer and more out of concern for his pregnant wife.

Again. Kuroo Tetsuro was no fool.

He knew if some type of power-grab was being made for the seat at the head of the family, she and her unborn child would be targets as well. Though the bodyguards from the Miyagi faction were reliable, he knew that the boss would always come before the outsider he married.

That night was by far one of the longest nights of Kuroo’s life. He listened for hours on end as Akaashi and Bokuto argued with Semi and Daichi on whether or not an investigation into the accident was necessary.

Not once did he leave his post further down the hall, guarding (Y/n)’s hospital room. It gave him some comfort knowing he wouldn’t have to rely on someone from the other faction to keep her safe.

But that comfort could only do so much as one of the doctors who was operating on the boss left his room. Kuroo didn’t have to be within earshot to know what had happened. The sullen look on the doc’s face said it all.

He wanted to push the doctor away when he approached (Y/n)’s room. Wanted to send him on his way and tell her the news himself. But the cold look Akaashi sent him, similar to the one he received earlier when he attempted to see if (Y/n) was awake, forced Kuroo to step aside and let the doctor in.

Kuroo felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach and his hands clenched into fists as a cry of despair echoed out past the door and into the silent hallway. The violent and pained howling only grew louder as the doctor retreated from the room.

He wanted more than anything to run in and hold her close. Let her cry into his shoulder, claw at his shirt and scream until her voice gave out and her throat was raw. Anything to let her know she wasn’t alone. But a simple glance at his superior kept him cemented in place.

For now all he could do was listen as she wailed into the night.

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

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

The familiar voice pulled Kuroo out of his thoughts, forcing his gaze to shift from his dress shoes to Akaashi. The superior raised an eyebrow at the taller man.

“I had to get dressed too quickly... I didn’t think it looked that bad.” Kuroo murmured, the lack of sleep he was currently suffering from evident in his voice.

Akaashi’s steely gaze softened, only for a moment, as he glanced from the bodyguard to the door he was leaning beside. “You know you can take some time to get some sleep, eat a proper meal... put on something more formal. The Miyagi guards can keep watch over her just fine-”

“I’m never leaving her with those fucking bumpkins again.” Kuroo snapped, a sudden rush of anger passing through his veins at the mere suggestion. He quickly checked himself, offering Akaashi an apologetic look.

“I understand that you’re weary of their job performance... especially after the accident... But we’re all still family, even if Ushijima is dead... And I expect you to act like it.” Akaashi hissed.

Kuroo shifted his gaze back to his feet that were now shuffling in discomfort. “I can’t just leave her with them... you know they’ve never liked her, this is the perfect excuse to boot her out of the organization.”

“She’ll have nothing to do with the organization or its affairs unless Ushijima's will states otherwise.” Akaashi countered. “If she’s lucky she’ll be able to move back to Tokyo and live off a monthly stipend from the syndicate. Hell, maybe she could get remarried, have a family of her own...”

“That’d be nice... wouldn’t it?” Kuroo inquired, eyes still refusing to meet Akaashi’s.

“It would...” Akaashi slowly nodded, his voice becoming hushed as he heard the familiar click of (Y/n)’s heels approaching the bedroom door. “There’s nothing left tying her to this family now...”

Kuroo internally flinched at the implication behind Akaashi’s words, but those thoughts were cut short as the bedroom door opened, revealing the woman they had been discussing.

She was clad in all black clothing that her once swollen belly hadn’t allowed her to wear just a couple weeks prior. Nothing too revealing or tight of course, this was a funeral after all.

(Y/n) adjusted the black glasses resting on the bridge of her nose, hoping to keep her puffy and tired eyes hidden.

“M’am,” Akaashi addressed her, bowing slightly before straightening his posture. “The car’s out front waiting for you.”

(Y/n) gave him a curt nod in response before walking past him and down the nearby staircase with the two men hot on her tail. The three were greeted at the foot of the staircase by Semi, who quickly wrapped an arm around (Y/n)’s shoulders as he gave her a comforting smile.

“Thank you so much, gentleman. I think my men and I can take it from here-”

“I see no harm in them accompanying me on the ride to the cemetery, Semi.” (Y/n) spoke up, her voice meek but still loud enough for Kuroo and Akaashi to hear despite the distance Semi had attempted to put between them.

His smile faltered, but he nodded in understanding before continuing on his way to the car with the others.

The ride to the cemetery involved more talking than Kuroo would have preferred. He could tell by the look on (Y/n)’s face that she was tired of hearing Akaashi and Semi arguing over the accident. He couldn’t say he blamed her. If he had to sit and relive the accident that took his spouse and his baby over and over again he wouldn’t be in the best headspace either.

But, much to Kuroo’s sadness, (Y/n) only stayed quiet and let them continue their argument all the way to the burial.

He allowed Semi to help her out of the car before taking her himself and helping her walk to the spot where the family had already been gathering. Kuroo ignored the looks they both received, his hold on (Y/n) tightening as they got closer to the group.

She sat in the front row of foldable chairs, Kuroo at her left and Semi at her right. (Y/n) had already burst into a fit of sobs on the walk there, now she was trying to stifle her cries as she stared at the wooden box suspended above the 6 foot deep hole in the ground.

Kuroo couldn’t help but shoot a sideways glance at Semi as he rested one hand on the grieving widow’s knee while the other plucked a tissue from a nearby tissue box and held it out to her. She quickly snatched it from him and made no move to remove his hand despite the way her body visibly tensed at his touch.

Semi was Ushijima’s consigliere, his right hand man. The person Ushijima trusted most with (Y/n)’s wellbeing before and after his death. So why did the look the silver-haired man gave (Y/n) send a chill down Kuroo’s spine?

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

(Y/n) sat quietly on her own in the foyer of the large mansion as the rest of the family from the syndicate chattered and socialized. She was used to the house being full like this, Ushijima usually had large group meetings like this when he had business to attend to.

She usually kept to herself, staying in their bedroom or going for a walk in the garden whenever the family was there. Now she was in the thick of all this commotion, her husband in the ground.

A glass of whiskey held in her face pulled her back into the present. She glanced up and was met with a small smile from Kuroo.

“Neat. Like you like it...” he mumbled, swirling the contents of the small glass before she took it.

She thanked him quietly, adjusting her sunglasses once more before taking a sip. The smaller woman winced at the burn, earning a soft chuckle from Kuroo as he sat beside her.

“Never something you get used to, huh?” he mumbled, smiling softly as she shook her head in response.

“Not at all...” she mused before taking another sip.

He caught a glimpse of a hint of a smile playing on her lips, and as she opened her mouth to speak she was interrupted by Semi.

“We’re ready to begin the reading of the will... M’am.” Semi announced, casting a glance towards (Y/n) that had her tensing in her seat. He then looked to Goshiki, then Tenou, then Shirabu, then Reon. Each of the men set aside their glasses and made their way up the stairs to the study where Ushijima’s and (Y/n)’s attorney had set up shop to read through the will.

Kuroo lightly nudged (Y/n)’s shoulder when she didn’t make a move to stand.

“I don’t want to go up there... I’m sure Semi will take care of everything and-”

“M’am, you need to be up there... I’m sure Semi would make sure you’re taken care of, but you need to make sure you get what Ushijima left to you.” Kuroo’s tone was firm but gentle. “This is the last bit of syndicate business you’ll ever have to deal with...”

(Y/n) nodded slightly before throwing back the last of her whiskey. She grunted, handed the empty glass to Kuroo, then reluctantly stood up and followed Semi up the stairs.

It felt like about 15 minutes had passed when the sound of the study door slamming open, silencing the mafiosos downstairs. The aura in the room drastically shifted as Goshiki stormed down the stairs and out of the front door of the mansion, Tendou hot on his heels.

All eyes turned to Reon and Shirabu, both sporting expressions of shock as they slowly left the study and joined the others downstairs.

Semi was next. He was trying and failing to mask the emotions running through his head as he approached Kuroo, Akaashi and Bokuto, who had gathered in one corner of the room away from the members of the Miyagi faction.

“The boss would like to meet us in the office in five minutes...” he said, silver-haired man’s tone hushed.

Akaashi raised an eyebrow at that. “The boss?”

As if on cue, the familiar sound of (Y/n)’s heels clicking echoed downstairs, followed by the attorney’s heavy footsteps. No one was subtle about clambering to the stairs to peek and see what was going on.

(Y/n) had slowly made her way past the stairwell, ignoring the looks she received when she stopped at the door of the study. Her grip on the sunglasses in her hands was enough to snap them in half.

She reached a hand out to the doorknob before visibly hesitating. She took a deep breath before firmly grabbing the knob, turning it, and stepping into the office.

(Y/n) approached the leather chair that sat behind the large mahogany desk towards the back of the room. She trailed her fingers over the arm of the chair, eyes glued to the space her husband once occupied. Some of his documents were scattered around the desk from the last time he had been there. The room as a whole had been untouched since the accident.

With another deep breath, she turned her back to the floor-to-ceiling length windows that spanned the entire back wall of the study and sat in the chair. She remained stiff for a moment before slowly easing into the large piece of furniture.

The meeting that followed was as standard as things could be right now. (Y/n), mainly asking Semi and Akaashi a lot of questions with Kuroo and Bokuto both wondering why they had been asked to sit in on the meeting.

Eventually, (Y/n) sent Semi away, asking him to get to work on informing their ‘business partners’ on the change in leadership the syndicate was experiencing. The second he left the room, (Y/n)’s calm, cool exterior went out the window as she deflated and held her head in her hands.

“What the fuck, man! That damn idiot! I hate this!” she exclaimed, causing the three men in the room to practically jump out of their skin. This had to be the loudest any of them had ever heard her speak.

“Um... Semi, m’am?” Bokuto asked, tilting his head in confusion.

“No! Toshi! That asshole, why did he do this to me?! He knew Goshiki wanted the position but he left it to me! This is so him! Throwing me to the fucking wolves then fucking leaving me to fucking deal with it all fucking fuck fuck!”

Kuroo’s eyes shifted uncomfortably between Akaashi and Bokuto, who looked just as shaken up by the rambling as he was.

(Y/n) ended the mini rant, exhaling deeply and slumping back into the chair. “Fuck my life!”

The three men remained quiet for a good minute until Akaashi cleared his throat and spoke up.

“Well maybe he wanted you to learn the business and take care of yourself rather than have to rely on a stipend from the syndicate-”

“I already know all there is to know, Toshi has been teaching me everything about the business since we got married. I just didn’t think he’d ever give it to me, especially when there’s Goshiki or Semi.” (Y/n) explained, eyes narrowed at a framed photo of her and Wakatoshi at the corner of his desk before flipping it face down.

“Wait what? Then what was all that crap we sat through these past 15 minutes?” Kuroo asked, raising an eyebrow at the woman fuming behind the desk.

“I don’t need Semi catching on, he’s pissed enough as it is!” she sighed exasperatedly.

Silence bloomed between the group until a deep chuckle erupted from the area Kuroo was occupying. (Y/n) cocked an eyebrow at him, jaw tightening as he erupted into a full on fit of laughter.

He soon composed himself before running a hand through his hair and holding his head. “So I suppose this means we may have a war on our hands then? You don’t even trust your own consigliere, or your husband’s most trusted men... This will be fun.”

“N-now now let’s not get too hasty,” Akaashi sputtered, “We don’t know anything about what happened that night, it would be unfair to draw baseless conclusions about who was involved-”

“Exactly,” (Y/n) interrupted, shifting her steel gaze from Kuroo to Akaashi. “Which is why you’re going to look into what happened that night.”

Akaashi seemed taken aback by this, something his new employer quickly picked up on.

“I need someone trustworthy to head this investigation, and I need them to do it quickly and quietly. Can I trust you with this?” She asked.

Akaashi quickly regained his composure and nodded, “Of course, m’am.”

“Wait a minute wait a minute, if there’s a possibility our boss is in danger shouldn’t we get her out of this house?” Bokuto spoke up, gaining the attention of the other three. “We don’t know where Daichi and his faction’s loyalties lie, but we know for a fact Ushijima’s old crew side with Goshiki’s non-existent claim over the business... And we’re in their territory. They could easily overtake us and get to (Y/n) if they wanted to.”

Akaashi seemed to ponder this for a moment before looking from Bokuto to Kuroo. “Would we be able to extract her and get her to the Tokyo residence tonight?”

“We could but it would be suspicious as hell.” Kuroo replied, scratching at the back of his head.

“We stay in Miyagi for as long as we safely can.” (Y/n) spoke up, tone firm. “There is work to be done here anyway... Once that work is finished we can leave to the Tokyo residence without drawing any attention to us.”

She cast her eyes back to Kuroo. “In the meantime, I want Kenma on surveillance for this residence. As well as all your men keeping an eye on the rest of the Miyagi faction... And you don’t leave my side until we’re back in Tokyo. Understood?”

Kuroo didn’t miss the way her voice wavered at that list bit. He gave her a curt nod, “Of course, m’am...”

(Y/n) seemed to breathe a sigh of relief at that, her eyes locked with his for a moment until he forced them away. They seemed to linger over her wedding ring as she continued speaking. “Bokuto. You’re not to leave Akaashi’s side over the course of his investigation... Nobody goes anywhere alone. I don’t want to take any risks.”

“Yes m’am. Anything else?” Bokuto asked, earning a small head-shake in response.

“No...” (Y/n) mumbled before catching herself and speaking in her firm tone once again. “No, you’re both dismissed.”

Kuroo half expected (Y/n) to deflate or collapse onto the desk once Bokuto and Akaashi left the room, closing the door to the office behind them. To his surprise, and glee, she stayed sitting straight, this new aura of authority never leaving her once the other men had left.

It was a good look on her. This power. She had always been so meek, reserved, in the background while her husband was in the spotlight. Now she took his place at center stage and he was captivated.

He hadn’t realized he had been smiling until (Y/n) pointed it out, her own half-amused expression painting her features. “What’s that smile for...?”

Kuroo shook his head slightly, fingers absentmindedly fiddling with the buttons on the sleeve of his button-up shirt. “Just thinking of how much things have changed so quickly... namely you.”

(Y/n) quirked an eyebrow at this, urging him to elaborate before standing to pour herself a drink from the whiskey decanter that sat on the nearby bookshelf. His amber eyes watched her closely as she filled a second glass, presumably for him.

“I remember the day you and Ushijima were married... it was the first time we met.” He trailed off, searching (Y/n)’s eyes as she stood before him and handed him the glass. “You were so young... Sure we were the same age, but you just seemed so much younger... maybe it was your innocence.

You had these doe eyes that told everyone everything they needed to know: You had no idea what you were getting yourself into... Sometimes I wonder if Ushijima ever told you before the wedding or not, but I know he wasn’t the kind of man to keep something so important from his bride... Whatever the case was, you were trembling at that altar. And now here you are... All his power and you’re taking to it naturally... no more doe eyes.”

(Y/n) was now leaning against the desk, still looming in front of Kuroo as she sipped at the dark alcohol in her glass, ignoring the burn and focusing on the intensity of his eyes. “You know my husband really liked you...” she said, taking another sip before setting the glass on the desk beside her.

Kuroo cocked a brow at her as she pushed herself off the desk and approached him, heels clicking slowly against the hardwood floors. “He thought you were a good man... he trusted you with both our lives and saw you as one of his most capable men.”

(Y/n) stood beside the chair the larger man was currently occupying. She placed her smaller hand on his shoulder, her touch gentle until she suddenly squeezed at him roughly.

Kuroo looked at her in pure shock, wincing in pain as she kept an iron grip on him. “But if you ever talk down to me like that again, I’m going to cut your eyes out.” she threatened through her gritted teeth.

The bodyguard knew he should have felt fear. Or shame. Or perhaps even anger at the fact he had been threatened. But he would be lying if he said the deadly look in (Y/n)’s eyes, the tightness of her jaw, Hell, even her words themselves... didn’t make his blood deliciously hot and his heart pump faster.

Her touch was like electricity. (Y/n) seemed to feel the sparks as well, pulling her hand from his shoulder and returning to the desk to retrieve her glass of whiskey. “Am I clear, Tetsuro?”

Kuroo felt another jolt of electricity flow through him at the utterance of his name. He couldn’t help the way his lips twitched into a slight smirk before he spoke. “Transparently, m’am...”

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

“I was very saddened to hear about Ushijima’s death... he was a good man. But you can understand that I’m in a precarious situation given that I’m suddenly being asked to trust the protection of a woman that I don’t know.”

Kuroo couldn’t help but glance at (Y/n) for a reaction to those words. The newly crowned boss had been on edge for those past two weeks, he figured comments like that would have her snapping at them the way she had snapped at him weeks prior.

But she only gave the older man a reassuring smile as she crossed her legs, a very subtle way of showing more of her legs as her pencil skirt rode higher up her thighs. Kuroo felt his lips quirk into a slight smirk at the sight.

“I completely understand your concerns, Ukai.” (Y/n) cooed, smoothing out her skirt to draw attention to the garment. “But rest assured that my late husband’s advisors are monitoring the business and its affairs closely as I take on his responsibilities. Everything will remain stable through this change in leadership.”

Kuroo wasn’t wrong when he said (Y/n) was taking to this position; Her tone was cool, eyes locked on the other man’s as she spoke with authority. He was sure she could sell a glass of water to a drowning man if she needed to.

“Well... as long as the cost of protection remains the same and my day to day won’t be affected, this won’t be a problem at all.” The shop owner smiled, quite obviously drinking in the sight of the younger woman’s exposed skin until she stood from her seat.

“Wonderful. It was a pleasure meeting with you. Feel free to reach out should you need anything from the family.” (Y/n) said, a sickly sweet but somehow genuine looking smile painting her features as Ukai clambered out of his seat to bow respectfully to her.

The two said their goodbyes, Kuroo remaining silent as he followed close behind (Y/n) on her way out of the store. He took note of the way she suddenly tensed and shivered as they left the small shop, the autumn air seeping through the business formal clothing she had chosen for the day.

“M’am, we’ve visited quite a few of our partners today. I think it’s within reason to call it a day and get out of the cold, don’t you?” He asked, cocking a brow at her.

(Y/n) sighed softly, rubbing at her hands as she gave the bodyguard a small nod. “I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to go home and pick up where we left off tomorrow... and preferably in some climate appropriate clothing.”

“Couldn’t have said it better myself, m’am.” Kuroo said, receiving no response as he led (Y/n) to their car and opened the backseat door for her. He climbed in once she was settled and instructed the driver to take them home.

The ride was completely silent as the two refused to make eye contact with one another. A more adequate way of describing it would be that the two glanced at the other on more than one occasion, always looking away before they could notice.

Their eyes finally locked, only for the car to abruptly stop as the driver apologized.

Kuroo looked at the heavy traffic blocking their route home, eyebrows knitting together in confusion at the congested street. It was nowhere near rush hour and this side of town was never so busy.

Just as (Y/n) began to voice those same concerns, Kuroo caught sight of a figure moving through the traffic... no. Three. Instincts kicked in within the blink of an eye, and before he really knew what was happening he was tackling (Y/n) onto her seat.

“DOWN!”

Gunshots. Breaking glass. Screaming. A symphony that rang in Kuroo’s ears as he shielded (Y/n)’s smaller body with his. Her head was buried in his chest, muffling her cries of fear as bullet after bullet pelted the car and whizzed overhead.

Soon enough the gunfire subsided, leaving the two to catch their breath in the backseat of the luxury vehicle. Kuroo slowly lifted his head, glancing out the shattered windshield before looking down at the woman he was protecting.

She clung to his button-up shirt like if she dared let go he would fade away. Her chest heaved up and down as she looked up at him frantically, confused and scared, desperate to be back home and away from the madness.

He cupped her cheek, soothingly brushing his thumb over her flushed skin. “Wait here.”

Before (Y/n) could object, Kuroo was opening the door and crawling past her body, exiting the car with his pistol at the ready.

She wanted to yell for him, beg him not to leave her and to just hold her until it was over. That was the old (Y/n). The (Y/n) who had a husband to go into the world for her, deal with the ugly bits of humanity to take care of her and their child.

The piece of her that wanted to cling to her old life with Wakatoshi is what kept her curled up in the car, sobbing wildly as she waited for Kuroo to return. Despite knowing Toshi had always kept a sidearm hidden under the cushions of the backseat, she made no move to grab it.

(Y/n) could hear a few shots firing, the sounds of a scuffle then more shots. Then a heavy silence hung in the air, causing her to fear the worst. The quiet was followed by the sound of footsteps trudging towards the opened car door.

She covered her ears and curled up further into herself, shaking with fear as the footsteps grew closer and closer. “Oh dear god please. Please don’t. Please...” she whimpered barely loud enough for anyone but herself to hear.

Two rough hands took hold of her wrists, forcing a scream from her throat as they pulled her towards the door. (Y/n) fought against them for a moment, sobbing uncontrollably until she heard the man’s voice.

She could barely make out the words Kuroo spoke, her ears ringing as she finally allowed him to pull her from the car and to stand on her two feet. (Y/n) was sure it had something to do with having to move, but just as she was finally processing what was happening, Kuroo had lifted her off her feet and began running away from what remained of their car.

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

(Y/n) sat motionless in her office, deaf to the bickering currently going on around her. It was the usual suspects; Akaashi and Semi argued relentlessly over what to do about the attempt on her life, talking over one another while Kuroo stood silently by her side, nursing a headache.

“We’re taking her back to Tokyo! She’s not safe here-”

“If she leaves it will be showing weakness!” Semi barked over Akaashi. “She needs to stay here and face this head on while we look into who was behind the attack!”

Akaashi’s icy eyes narrowed at the other, “You could easily investigate what happened while we take her to Tokyo...”

“That’s so typical of you... Can’t leave that city that reeks of piss and shit for too long! You think you’re too good for Miyagi-”

“QUIET!”

The three men froze at the sound of (Y/n)’s voice and turned to find her practically shaking in her seat. “I’m not sure if this is clear... but I want whoever did this dead. And I mean seriously fucking dead!” (Y/n) jabbed her finger past the bickering men, pointing at the wall beside them. “Their heads mounted on my wall kinda fucking dead!”

Kuroo bit back a laugh, glancing between Akaashi and Semi’s shocked expressions.

“M’am, we’ll take care of it the second we learn who was behind this-”

“Then get the hell out of my office and find out who did it!” (Y/n) snapped, glaring at Semi and effectively silencing him. “Play dumb all you want but I know we have little rats all over Miyagi, one of them is bound to squeal if you ask the right questions.”

“I suggest we take you back to Tokyo while Semi conducts his investigation.” Akaashi spoke up, the glare he received from his employer doing little to rattle him.

“Figured as much but I’m not leaving. Semi’s right that it will show weakness. We have more than enough guards to watch the house while he gets to work.”

Akaashi opened his mouth to argue only for Semi to cut him off, “I’ll get to it right away m’am. In the meantime keep your head down.” He approached (Y/n), placing his hand over her clenched fist that rested atop her desk. “This will all be over soon...”

Kuroo’s expression soured as (Y/n) made no move to pull her hand from Semi’s. He watched him closely as he and Akaashi left the room, leaving Kuroo and (Y/n) in silence.

He moved around the desk, sitting in one of the armchairs and gaining the confidence to speak. “Are you actually comfortable staying in Miyagi...?” Kuroo was met with silence, prompting him to continue. “All you have to do is say the word, and I’ll drive you back home to Tokyo myself...”

(Y/n) seemed to ponder his words as she looked him over, “A 3 hour drive in the middle of the night... sounds like a bit much, doesn’t it?”

Kuroo chuckled lightly at that, relaxing into the chair as he ran a hand through his hair. “Not for you, M’am... Hell I’d drive you all the way across Japan if it made you feel safer tonight...”

(Y/n)’s lips twitched into a small smile until she processed just how tired Kuroo looked. She felt a twinge of guilt, despite knowing full well it was his job to stay with her. She could have requested a different body guard to take his place so he could rest.

He caught on to her shift in demeanor, tilting his head at her. “Are you alright...?”

“About as good as someone who almost died today can be... you should get some rest.” (Y/n) said, standing from her seat and prompting Kuroo to do the same.

“I don’t want to leave your side... I’ll be alright, m’am.” He assured, only for (y/n) to turn to him and take his hands in hers.

“You’ve done so much for me today... please get some rest. I’ll call one of the other men from your team to watch my door tonight. Just please... rest.” (Y/n) pleased, tone gentle but firm as she squeezed his hands.

Kuroo felt warmth bloom in his chest at the feeling of her hands in his, but just as quickly as this feeling came it had left. (Y/n) released his hands, silently leaving him as she hastily made her way to her room.

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

(Y/n) didn’t know what time it was when she woke to a cool breeze slipping through her open window. She knew it was late, and judging by how low the moon was in the sky she hadn’t been sleeping long.

She sighed as she turned to lay on her side, staring at the empty spot in bed beside her. Absentmindedly reaching out, her fingers grazed over the sheets, missing the warmth of the man who once occupied that side of the king size bed.

Warmth. That was what made her realize just how cold the room was. Along with the fact that she hadn’t left her window open that night.

Just as she made a move to sit up and yell for her guard, an unseen attacker wrapped a silk tie around her throat, causing her screams to die down in her throat.

(Y/n) struggled to fight against her assailant, wheezing for air as they kneeled on the bed beside her and pulled her onto her knees. Her body was now flush against theirs, thrashing for freedom while the attacker only pulled harder on the tie, further constricting her windpipe.

For a moment, (Y/n) was ready to let this happen. She was that scared little woman all over again, waiting for Wakatoshi to run in and save her from the dark. No. It had to be Kuroo. Kuroo would have to be the one to save her now.

But as her vision began to blur, she quickly realized no one was coming for her.

In that instant, the old (Y/n) was gone. Finally.

She used the last bit of her strength to reach up behind her and claw at her attacker’s face. Her nails dug into the fabric of a ski-mask until they found purchase in the eyehole of the mask.

The man suddenly screamed and grunted in pain as (Y/n) scratched at his eye, the feeling of warm liquid running down her arm telling her she had done a number on him. She took the opportunity to elbow him in the ribs and knock him off the bed.

She coughed as she struggled to catch her breath, using what little oxygen she had to let out a blood curdling scream. (Y/n)’s chest heaved as she weakly crawled to the other side of the bed, groaning in anguish as she heard the door to the bedroom rattling against the hinges. It was painfully clear now that the assassin had blocked the door.

She could hear Yamamoto’s frantic voice on the other side of the door, soon followed by Kuroo’s then Akaashi’s. It was hard to understand what they were saying as another surge of adrenaline flowed through her veins at the feeling of the man grabbing her by her ankle and pulling her to the edge of the bed.

Another scream escaped her lips as she kicked at the assassin, trying and failing to hit his bad eye until she glanced at him over her shoulder. her heel connected with his eye, sending him backwards with another cry of pain.

(Y/n) pulled herself to the other side of the bed, digging into Wakatoshi’s nightstand. Her movements became frantic as she heard the bed springs creak under the weight of her attacker.

Just as the bed dipped beside her, she found the revolver her husband had kept in the nightstand. In a blur (Y/n) had pulled back the hammer of the gun just as the man yanked her by her shoulder to face him.

Kuroo felt his heart drop into the pit of his stomach as he heard 6 gunshots echo from the bedroom. Bokuto had just begun ramming his shoulder into the door seconds prior, hoping that his weight would be able to break it open.

“Step aside!” Akaashi called out, approaching the door with an ax he had found in the gardening shed outside. He began hacking at the door, grunting with each hit until there was a hole big enough to reach through and remove whatever was blocking the door.

Kuroo flung open the door, rushing into the bedroom with Akaashi, Bokuto and Yamamoto by his side, each with their weapons raised and at the ready. The found (Y/n) curled up on the floor beside the bed, hugging her knees as she stared at the bullet-ridden body sprawled out across the mattress.

Kuroo ran to her side, cupping her cheek as he looked her over for any injuries, relieved to find none other than her bruising throat.

“Lets find out who this fucking dirtbag is.” Bokuto growled, yanking the ski-mask off the assassin.

The sound of the ax falling out of Akaashi’s hands and clattering loudly to the floor drew (Y/n)’s attention away from Kuroo and to the corpse. Kuroo turned his head as well, eyes going wide as his hands flew to cover (Y/n)’s eyes, but it was too late.

She had already looked into Semi’s lifeless but familiar brown eyes before Kuroo had a chance to shield her from the sight.

(Y/n) began screaming wildly and thrashing against his hold, sobs scratching at her already raw throat. Kuroo stood up, holding (Y/n) tightly as she went limp against him and wailed in despair. He uncovered her eyes to adjust his hold on her and keep her from falling, guilt forcing her to stare wide eyed at Semi’s now pale body.

Her screams continued to echo through the house until Kuroo managed to get her in the backseat of one of the cars in the garage, driving off with her in the direction of Tokyo and not bothering to look back.

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

(Y/n) stared blankly at the red liquid collected in the palm of her hand. A drop of water fell from a strand of her soaked hair and into the small pool of bloody water now rippling in her cupped hand.

A larger hand gently took hold of her wrist, extending her limb slightly and exposing the blood soaked skin of her forearm. (Y/n) further curled in on herself, bringing her knees tighter against her chest as a loofa gently brushed over her skin, leaving light red suds in their wake.

(Y/n) chewed at her lip, the slow ministrations pulling her from her haze as she cast a glance Kuroo’s way. He was kneeled beside the tub, eyes heavy with fatigue and squinting at harsh bathroom light.

He had rolled the sleeves of his thermal up to his elbows so as to prevent them from getting wet as he gently scrubbed her arms and torso of Semi’s blood. She had hardly moved since she stopped wailing on the drive from Miyagi, something told Kuroo if he even tried leaving her in the tub unsupervised she would slip under the water without realizing it.

It wasn’t part of the plan to start washing her, but the way she had just sat frozen in the bath, staring at the crimson clouds swirling in the water tugged at his chest and brought him to his knees beside her.

(Y/n) seemed unfazed as he ran the loofa over her chest, shivering at his touch only for a moment before returning to her motionless state. She rinsed off once the remainder of the blood had been scrubbed away, stepping onto the fluffy bath mat with Kuroo’s assistance.

Once she was dried and dressed comfortably, she allowed Kuroo to lead her to the bedroom. He checked the windows and shut the curtains as (Y/n) flopped onto the large bed behind him, releasing a breath she didn’t know she had been holding the second she felt the down comforter cradling her body.

“I’ll be right outside the door.” Kuroo mumbled, stepping towards the door only for (Y/n) to lightly take hold of his wrist.

“Please don’t go...” she said, voice hoarse barely above a whisper.

Kuroo couldn’t identify the whirlwind of emotions swirling in (Y/n)’s eyes. He could see the grief and shock from what had just transpired hours before, along with fatigue from barely sleeping a wink during the drive. But there was something lingering deeper. Maybe it was... no. It couldn’t be.

Kuroo wordlessly crawled into the bed, thankful he had put on comfortable sweats just before the incident. He laid rather stiffly on his back, his heartbeat thrumming in his ears when he felt (Y/n) move an arm over his waist. Despite his best efforts to calm himself, he only felt his heart pound faster as (Y/n) rested her head on his chest.

Her warmth slowly eased him to relax into the mattress, sleep slowly consuming him as he took in the sweet scent of her shampoo. His chest slowly rose and fell with each breath, only for it to tighten at the feeling of nails gently raking under his shirt and up his stomach.

It had to be his imagination, an inkling of a dream that he was slowly slipping into. Despite how incredibly real it felt, it had to be a dream.

The plush lips slowly working against his jaw, however, were not a dream.

Kuroo couldn’t help but shoot up in bed, cheeks flushing as he looked down at (Y/n), the unknown emotion in her eyes now painfully clear to him. “M’am-”

“It’s alright, no one has to know. Please...” (Y/n) murmured, lightly gripping the hem of his shirt as she sat up beside him.

Kuroo almost choked, fingers twitching at his sides as he struggled to think up a response. He’d be lying if he said he didn’t want to...

“(Y/n)...” he sighed, gently taking hold of her hands and bringing them to his chest. “Sex won’t make you feel better...”

(Y/n) bit her lip as her chest ached at his words, suddenly feeling foolish as she pulled her hands from him and looked down at her lap. “I just wanted to feel something good... for the first time in weeks.”

“When you’re in the right state of mind... we can try it.” he sighed, finding it increasingly difficult to take his eyes off her. “Right now I can stay with you, comfort you, hold you as much as you need... I just wouldn’t feel right doing anything else...”

(Y/n) stayed silent for a moment, internally screaming at herself to say something, anything to ease this tension. All she could do was wordlessly move her arms back around Kuroo’s waist and rest her head on his chest as he laid back, pulling the comforter over their bodies.

She stared at Kuroo’s chest, cheeks burning from embarrassment. It wasn’t until Kuroo began gently stroking her head that she relaxed against him as she had earlier. His thick fingers slowly worked against her scalp, pulling a content sigh from her lips as she began dozing off.

A small ‘thank you’ slipped past her lips before she finally fell into a dreamless sleep. Before she was completely overcome by slumber she felt a pair of warm lips press to her head.

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

The fact that the Tokyo faction hadn’t completely pulled out of Miyagi had (Y/n) more on edge than usual. She understood that Akaashi would have to do damage control, and that he would need a sizable group of guards there to keep him safe as he did so, but that didn’t make (Y/n) any less nervous about the situation.

According to Akaashi’s regular updates, Ushijima’s core group were up in arms about the turn of events. Some were in shock, evidently unaware of his turn away from the organization. Others had apparently seen it coming but elected to say nothing.

Meanwhile Daichi’s men were thrown for a loop by all of this, none of them having been in close with the late consigliere. That at least meant none of them worked with him on this plot against (Y/n)’s life.

It had been a week since (Y/n) and Kuroo left Miyagi. Since then only a handful of Kuroo’s men had returned to keep watch over the Tokyo residence. Kuroo would have been upset by this if they weren’t on their home turf, somewhere they knew like the back of their hand.

Over the course of that week, Kuroo seldom let (Y/n) out of his sight. He did what he could to ease (Y/n)’s nerves, well what he could do while basically keeping her under house arrest.

Whenever she wasn’t mulling over her work, he was dragging her out of her office to keep her occupied in other areas of the house. They quickly learned the kitchen was no place for them when they almost set it on fire their first night after they arrived.

They ordered a lot of takeout, eating in the house’s small theater room rather than the dining room and watching whatever movies they could find online or in Wakatoshi’s old dvd collection.

The two were settled in their usual chairs, a box of pizza set on the armrests between them as their movie selection for the night filled the silence between the two.

“You think that actually works?” Kuroo asked mid-bite, eyes never leaving the projector screen as he spoke.

“What works?” (Y/n) quirked a brow at him.

“The crying technique.” he responded, motioning to the screen with his free hand as the two teens practiced making themselves fake cry.

(Y/n) snorted as she bit into her pizza, whining softly as it lightly burned the roof of her mouth. “I ‘unno, never had to fake cry before...”

Kuroo snorted back, handing her an unopened can of soda to cool her mouth. “I’m not saying you have, I’m just asking if you think it works.”

She thanked him before quickly gulping down the soda and setting the can aside. “We can always try it if you’re that curious.” He couldn’t help but roll his eyes, but before he knew it (Y/n) was pausing the movie and turning to face him. “Cmon, since you’re so interested let’s try!”

“Noooo nononono, we don’t have to do that-”

“As your boss I am now ordering you to find out if the crying technique works with me!” (Y/n) giggled, tugging on his wrist to face her.

He could tell by the look in her eyes she wasn’t going to let up. Rather than argue he faced (Y/n) and huffed dramatically as he looked her over. “Okay. Let’s do it.”

(Y/n) smiled excitedly, bouncing lightly before composing herself. “Okay... tiny gulps of air. Ready?” The small nod she received from Kuroo signaled her to begin.

Her chest began to heave up and down rapidly as she started taking shallow breaths, eyes closing until she heard Kuroo snickering behind the palm of his hand. (Y/n)’s cheeks grew hot as she lightly smacked his arm, causing his laughter to grow in volume. “I’m not gonna do it if you’re gonna laugh at me!” she whined.

“Sorry sorry!” he smiled, raising his hands in mock surrender. “Taking it seriously now! This is very serious!” He chuckled, quickly composing himself.

“Good! Because this is serious! Now breathe!” (Y/n) playfully scolded, cracking a small smile before she started taking her shallow breaths. Kuroo followed her lead, fighting back a smile as they continued their antics.

(Y/n) let out a small whimper, the lack of air now pulling small noises from her parted lips that now actually made it harder for Kuroo to breathe. “I-Is it working?” she breathed.

Kuroo quickly shook his head, watching her closely as she stared at the ceiling, refusing to meet his eyes. “I can’t tell with you looking to the heavens like that, you cheater.” he said, moving closer to her as he continued taking his small gulps of air.

His close proximity forced (Y/n) to finally look at him, lips quivering at the intensity of his eyes. Their breaths mingling as their chests heaved in unison.

Kuroo couldn’t stop himself from glancing at (Y/n)’s lips, something that didn’t go unnoticed by her. He couldn’t deny he was satisfied she had seen it. Especially now that he saw her looking down at his.

His fingers twitched, longing to cup the back of her neck and hold her against him. Longing to taste her lips, but unwilling to cross that line unless she was ready.

Before he could further question himself, (Y/n) slowly took his cheeks between her hands, pulling him close enough to where their lips were barely touching. Kuroo exhaled shakily, the realization that she was waiting on him to close the gap sparking a burn deep in his chest.

He took a deep breath before finally smashing his lips against hers, drawing a moan from her as she returned the kiss with the same amount of passion. (Y/n)’s hands trailed down to his chest, gripping at his shirt as Kuroo cupped the back of her neck and deepened the kiss.

Kuroo was about to maneuver (Y/n) past the armrest to sit in his lap, the need to feel her body against his overwhelming his senses until the sound of the theater room doors opening forced them apart.

They were both very grateful at the height of the chairs, had they been shorter they would have definitely been caught. God, it was enough to make Kuroo feel like he was back in high school, having to sneak around with his crush or else he’d get grounded.

(Y/n) stood up from her chair, quickly composing herself when she recognized Akaashi standing at the door, clutching a file folder to his chest. The look in his eyes had (Y/n) completely forgetting her small tryst with Kuroo and rushing to get to her office with Akaashi.

“An autopsy showed that your driver that night had ingested a large amount of diazepam earlier that night... something none of his medical records show he had never been prescribed.” Akaashi explained, watching intently as (Y/n) paged through the numerous reports and documents he had collected over the course of his investigation.

Kuroo read what he could over (Y/n)’s shoulder, occasionally glancing between the papers and Akaashi as the man spoke.

“Meanwhile... Semi had been prescribed diazepam about three months prior to the accident. One thorough search of his residence later and...” Akaashi trailed off before pulling a sealed bag from his large briefcase and setting it onto the desk. Inside the bag was a half-full bottle of pills, labeled with Semi’s information as well as the name of the medication.

(Y/n) breathed shakily as she set the files down, forcing herself to look at Akaashi through the tears in her eyes.

“It’s evident that he drugged your driver earlier that night, knowing the heavy dosage would cause him to pass out at the wheel. Resulting in the accident... And since you didn’t die in the crash, he took action to remedy that when he knew for certain you’d be home.”

“So the ambush, he orchestrated that to make sure she’d be at the residence where he could try and...” Kuroo trailed off, earning a nod in response from Akaashi.

“Some quick hacking from Kenma showed a banking transaction between Semi and the three hitmen took place a few days before the attack... I’m sure he hoped they would get the job done before he ever had to intervene.” Akaashi explained, taking the file from (Y/n) as she handed it off to him.

She held her head in her hand for a moment, sighing deeply as she processed the information that Akaashi had gathered for her. She wound a hand through her hair, brushing it out of her face before she sat up to meet his eyes once more. “And the others...? Did they have a hand in any of this?”

Akaashi slowly shook his head as he placed the evidence back in his briefcase. “It doesn’t appear so... however I think it would behoove us to bring them here and interrogate them with you present.”

“Good. Send for them tomorrow. I want this over and done with.” (Y/n) declared, earning a bow from Akaashi. “I’ll leave you and Kuroo to discuss the security protocols for tomorrow. For now I need to rest. Thank you for your hard work.”

Kuroo silently watched her leave the room and was immediately met with a glare from Akaashi. “Did you fuck her?”

The bodyguard practically choked at the question, “What?! No! What the Hell is wrong with you?!”

“I’m not fucking stupid, I saw the way you two freaked out when I walked into that room. You’ve been alone with her a week and you’re telling me nothing’s happened?” the smaller man snapped.

“Nothing. Happened. And even if it did we have more important things to worry about than who she’s sleeping with right now.” Kuroo sneered, narrowing his eyes at Akaashi.

“That may be true, but we can’t risk giving anyone in the organization any reason to try and undermine her right now. You can both do what you like, but wait until this matter is settled... understood?”

Kuroo rolled his eyes at that, crossing his arms as he leaned against the desk. “Whatever you say...”

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

Kuroo had gotten a surprising amount of sleep that night considering the last minute preparations he had to take care of for the meeting set to take place that day. He was grateful for the small break he had gotten from his suits that week he was alone with (Y/n), but that only meant having to wear them once again felt constricting as fuck.

He adjusted his tie for the umpteenth time that afternoon, waiting patiently with Bokuto and Akaashi for (Y/n) and their ‘guests’ to arrive. Just as he began to wonder if (Y/n) had slept in, the door to the office creaked open, revealing a very professional, very sexy looking (Y/n) at the door.

She wore a form fitting blouse black blouse and a tight, black pencil skirt with tiny white polka dots and a small slit at the back. Her red-bottom Prada heels clicked against the hardwood as she approached her desk, seemingly unaware of the way the three men were staring at her.

“Is everything ready for our visitors?” She asked, smoothly sitting in her chair as she glanced between the three.

Akaashi quickly cleared his throat, causing Kuroo to realize she was primarily addressing him. “Yes, m’am. My men are all in place and Kenma is closely monitoring the residence’s cameras in case of any attack.”

(Y/n) gave him a small nod, glancing Akaashi’s way. “Do we have an ETA?”

“Approximately 30 minutes...” He replied, glancing at his watch.

“Good. You and Bokuto wait downstairs to receive them. Kuroo and I have some matters to discuss.”

Kuroo felt his heart jump into his throat, the sideways glance Akaashi sent him going completely unnoticed before he and Bokuto left.

(Y/n) beckoned him to approach the desk and he wordlessly obeyed, standing from his chair and moving around the desk to stand before her. “Is everything alright...?” he asked, the air around them thick with tension.

He watched intently as she licked her lips, her head slowly shaking in response. “No... I need you...”

Kuroo almost pounced on her in that moment, aching to touch her but showing restraint. “Is this what you want...? It isn’t the grief or the shock or anything else?”

(Y/n) quickly shook her head once more as she stood and gripped the lapels on his suit. “It’s none of that. I want you. I need you. I need you to fuck me and fill me before I deal with this bullshit. If you want the same thing, take me.”

He eagerly leaned in and kissed her hard, with just as much passion as he had the night before. Now there was no pesky armrest separating the two as they ground against one another.

A squeal of surprise escaped her lips as (Y/n) was lifted off her feet and rested on the edge of the desk. Kuroo gripped the hem of her skirt and bunched it up around her hips, revealing her lace underwear to him and pulling a deep moan from his throat.

He settled between her legs, hips grinding against hers as he greedily tasted her lips. (Y/n) hastily unbuttoned his shirt, exposing his toned chest and allowing her nails to drag down his bare skin.

Kuroo moaned against her lips, the pain mixing with pleasure as he ground his erection against her heat. He carefully started unbuttoning her shirt and littered her cleavage with hot kisses once he caught sight of her lace bra.

(Y/n) wound her hands into his hair, whining desperately as she struggled to get off her panties. Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle as he assisted her, tugging off the soaked material and shoving them in his pocket. As much as he wanted to tease her and take his time with her, he knew they didn’t have very long.

He hastily undid his belt and his slacks, letting the material pool at his feet as he fisted his cock, lips quirking into a cocky smirk at the way (Y/n) stared at his length.

Kuroo gripped (Y/n)’s hip with one hand, using the other to guide the tip of his cock into (Y/n)’s entrance. He searched her eyes for any hint of hesitation or reluctance, but only melted when he saw the lust burning in her half-lidded eyes.

He fully entered her with a slow and deep thrust, unable to keep himself from moaning at the feeling of her tight pussy gripping his cock. (Y/n) whined and bucked her hips weakly in hopes of gaining some form of friction, earning a breathy chuckle from her lover before he answered her prayers.

Kuroo’s thrusts were quick and deliberate, the head of his cock pounding into her sweet spot once he found it. (Y/n) roughly took her lip between her teeth, trying to keep her moans quiet as ecstasy and pleasure rippled through her veins.

It worked to keep her quiet until Kuroo pulled her legs to wrap around his hips, somehow fucking her even deeper and harder. A small shriek almost escaped (Y/n)’s parted lips, but Kuroo quickly captured it in a heated kiss. Their lips and teeth and tongues clashed as their pleasure overtook them, orgasms approaching fast as he bucked wildly into her.

With one last snap of his hips, (Y/n) was pushed over the edge and moaning wantonly into the kiss as her orgasm washed over her. Kuroo reluctantly parted from the kiss, hissing as her pussy clamped down on him and soaked him with her juices.

“Tell me where, baby...” he groaned, thrusts getting sloppier by the second as he felt himself reaching his peak.

(Y/n) breathed hard and tugged roughly at Kuroo’s messy hair, back arching at the overstimulation. “I-inside. Please, inside...”

Kuroo felt his cock twitch at her words, unable to stop himself from finally cumming and painting her walls white. He hid his face in the crook of her neck to stifle his moans and groans. (Y/n) sighed happily at the feeling of his warmth inside of her.

A knock at the door cut their post-coital bliss short and sent them scrambling to tidy up and re-dress. Kuroo quickly helped clean up her smeared lipstick and dabbed the sweat from her forehead before drying his own.

Once they were both sure they were freshened up, Kuroo went to open the office door. He was quickly stopped as (Y/n) took his hand and turned him to face her, pressing one last kiss to his lips before she sat back in her chair.

Kuroo couldn’t help but chuckle before he opened the door, noting the knowing expressions on Akaashi’s and Bokuto’s faces. Akaashi was red with anger, whereas Bokuto was grinning smugly at the taller man.

“If you’re both finished...” Akaashi sighed, repressing his anger. “They’re here...”

Kuroo glanced behind them at the nervous looking group of men before he smirked and moved aside for them to enter.

The men shuffled into the room, each taking a seat in the office and flinching slightly as Kuroo shut the door behind them. He moved to (Y/n)’s side, looking over the group with (Y/n), unable to keep himself from smiling as she spoke.

“So... shall we?”

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Tag List: @iwaxme @vventure @ochacostrange @yams046 @the-broken-halo-writer @tokyoghoose @madireyn @global---weaboo @achoohq @daiseukis @bb-noya @lydzisanerd @gemini-writes��

#Kuroo Tetsurou #kuroo tetsuro smut #Kuroo Tetsurō #kuroo x reader #kuroo tetsuro x reader #kuroo tetsurou x reader #mafia!Kuroo #Mafia AU event #Mafia AU

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onceuponastory · 4 years

Text

Coming Back Home Chapter One: Hometown (Nick x Y/N)

Plot: Six years ago, Y/N left her hometown and all its bad memories behind, and never looked back. But now, she’s come back to be the maid of honour in her sister’s wedding. Returning ‘home’ means she has to confront her past, the last thing she wants to do. When she meets the handsome best man Nick, she feels more comfortable...until her sister asks her to show Nick around town...a town that Y/N fell out of love with a long time ago.

Can Y/N fall back in love with the town she left behind, and maybe find love of her own along the way? Important: This story is based on a prompt by @orphicodysseywrites. It’s a mix of prompts one and two from this post, so full credit for this idea goes to them! Warnings: None A/N: My first fic based on one of Dacre’s characters! I hope you all enjoy it. I’ve checked it for spelling issues and stuff like that. However, I’ve been working really hard on this, and working in real life, so I may have missed some issues. In that case, if you see any issues, no you didn’t, lmao. Also, although this fic has Nick in it, it has no spoilers for The Broken Hearts Gallery! To be honest, Nick is in this just because the plot fits him the best! let’s be honest, this prompt does not fit Billy lmaooo

Special thanks goes to my best friend Jo, aka @thesundrop, who made this banner, and helped so much with planning this fic. Some of you may know her as @staticscreenwriting, where she writes Billy fics. Check them out, they’re amazing!

Disclaimer: I don’t own Nick or his character! Like I said, I just used Nick bc he’s the only character of Dacre’s that fits this prompt. Again, aside from Nick being in this, this fic has NOTHING to do with The Broken Hearts Gallery. But you should all go see the movie because it’s adorable!

“Ladies and Gentlemen, we are about to begin our descent towards the airport. Please place all tray tables and seats in the upright position, stow away any laptops or other electrical equipment, and remain in your seats with your seatbelts fastened.” The flight attendant chirpily announces over the intercom, and I let out the sigh I didn’t even know I was holding. In a short while, I’d be on my way back to Saint Chase, the place I thought I’d never set foot in again. I had left that place behind years ago and moved to New York City, hoping that the bad memories from that town didn’t follow me there. And for the most part, they didn’t. However, since my younger sister was getting married there in three weeks, and I was the maid of honour, I obviously couldn’t turn it down. I love my sister, of course I do, and of course I wanted to see her again and take part in such a special moment of her life...I just wish she’d picked somewhere else to get married. Sooner than I’d have liked, the plane lands, and after collecting my luggage, I walk into arrivals. I don’t even have to look around the room before I hear:

“Y/N!!! Hi!” My younger sister Katie calls across to me. She bounds up to me and wraps her arms around me before I can even react. I immediately smell her fruity perfume. It smells familiar. It smells like home. “How was your flight? I hope it was good. I thought we were going to be late getting here, but thankfully traffic wasn’t too bad.” She continues chattering away, and I smile. Katie was a ball of energy in a 5′4 tall body, and that’s partly why I love her so much.

“Katie. Breathe.” I giggle, and she stops.

“Sorry! I know I get carried away sometimes. Anyway, you remember Adam, right? He-”

“Yes, Katie, I remember your fiancé. The same fiancé that you’re getting married to in three weeks.” I tease, and she flashes pink. “Hi, Adam.” I hold out my hand for a handshake, but he pulls me into a hug too.

“Come on Y/N.” He tells me, giving me a warm smile. “We’re almost family, you can give me a hug.” Weirdly, hugging Adam felt like home too. As they both lead me out of the airport towards their car, holding hands and chatting the entire way, I can’t help but smile. They really were perfect for each other. They were the typical high school sweethearts, who had been together since they met seven years ago. And now here they were, about to get married. I used to think true love, that sappy kind in movies where the guy is so squeaky clean that there’s nothing wrong with him, and who’d drop everything for the girl he loves didn’t exist (and the boyfriends I’d had over the years definitely helped me believe that). But when I saw how happy Katie was with Adam, how she gushed about him constantly, and just how happiness beamed out of her every time she was near him or talking about him, I began to realise that maybe that kind of love did exist after all. If only I could find it.

~~~

“We’re almost here, girls.” Adam announces, and I feel my stomach turning into knots. Is it too late to leap out of the car and make a run for it? But then I see Katie’s face in the rearview mirror, and I know I can’t do that to her. So I grimace and say how wonderful being so close is instead.

“So, are the three of us staying in the hotel then?” I ask, taking a gulp of my tea. I was going to book a room there myself, but Katie and Adam had told me they’d take care of accommodation, and despite my initial misgivings, I decided to trust my sister.

“Well, we actually have a surprise...” Katie begins. “We’ve done up Nana’s house, and that’s where we’ll be staying! Isn’t it great? It’s going to be such a great bonding experience!” I almost choke on my tea. Maybe I should’ve listened to my gut and just booked into the hotel after all.

“Wh-What?” I ask, spluttering a little.

“Yeah, Adam and I thought about it, and we thought it would be better. I mean, it’s cheaper for a start, and it’s so nostalgic! Getting married in the town Adam and I grew up in and staying in the house you and I grew up in!” She squeals excitedly.

“Katie, no...I didn’t even-”

“Ooh, we’re here!” Katie cuts me off and looks out her window. “Look! There’s the diner! And the library! Remember when Nana used to read to us there every day after school? Aw, it was so cute.” She grins, and I sit back in my seat, trying to avoid glancing out of the window. “And there’s the bakery! They’re making the cake for our wedding, so I know it’ll be sublime. Y/N, remember those chocolate cupcakes they have? So good right? Oooh, we should get some later for dessert babe!” She tells Adam, who nods. I should’ve known that we’d be staying in Nana’s old house. But typical me seemed to block that part out with every other thing I wanted to forget about this town. Out of the corner of my eye, I notice the buildings of the town begin to fade away and become replaced by pine trees. Nana’s house was on the outskirts of town, before the forest, so I knew that we were close.

After a few more minutes, the car turns, and I hear the sound of gravel crunching beneath the wheels. Nana’s house had a gravel drive, so it was obvious that we had arrived. The car stops, and we all get out. Nana’s house looked almost the same as it did when I left four years ago. The roses around the door were still there, as well as all the lavender bushes in her front garden. All that looked different was the colour of the front door. Katie did a good job. The house still looked like something out of a fairytale storybook, somewhere where seven dwarves or three bears could live comfortably for many years...or maybe where a grandmother raised her two granddaughters. But how familiar the house looked did little to quell my unwillingness to stay there.

“Good to be back, right?” Adam asks, giving me a smile. Trying to avoid showing my unhappiness, I nod and force a small smile. Thankfully, Adam doesn’t seem to notice. He walks up to Katie, picks her up, and carries her over the threshold of the house.

“No! Adam! You’re meant to do this AFTER we get married!” Katie giggles and squeals, squirming about in Adam’s arms. “Y/N, help!” she calls, disappearing into the house.

“Sorry, Katie, you’re on your own!” I call back. And then, I’m alone, staring up at the house where I spent most of my life...and where I swore I’d never go again. A cold chill spreads across my body, and I can’t tell if it’s the wind or my nerves.

It’s going to be a long three weeks.

~~~

A Few Hours Later

I was settled into my old bedroom from when I was younger, and was laying on my bed, scrolling through my phone. Suddenly: “Knock knoooock!” A sing-song voice sounds from the other side of my bedroom door.

“Come in, Katie.”

“Aw, how’d you know it was me?” Chuckling, I open the door. Katie stands there, pouting.

“Well for a start, that’s what you did when we were kids, and you wanted to show me something...and you did it when we were teenagers too. I’m your big sister Katie. I know you.”

“You’re only two years older than me!”

“That still makes me smarter than you.” I tease, winking. Sighing, Katie laughs.

“Yeah, you’re right. I can’t get anything past you, can I?”

“Nope! Anyway, what’s up?”

“Nick’s almost here. We’re all going to pick him up from the train station and get dinner, so you two can get to know each other before the rehearsal dinner and the wedding. Ah, it’s going to be great!” She squeals excitedly. Meanwhile, I’m just confused.

“...Nick?”

“Y/N.” Katie is suddenly more serious, which is totally unlike her. “Don’t tell me you’ve forgotten who Nick is!” My blank stare makes her sigh. “You know, Nick!” She stresses his name like I should know it, and like I’ve committed a felony by forgetting it. But nothing springs to mind, so I stay silent. Katie huffs. “Nick is Adam’s best man. They met in college. They were roommates. He’s coming down early to help set up, and so you two can get to know each other. Sounds like you two getting to know each other is desperately needed.”

“Oh...right.” I respond, and she rolls her eyes. It was quite strange, seeing my ordinarily happy and energetic sister be so serious.

“Anyway, he’s going to be here soon, so you better get ready. And remember, you two are important parts of this wedding, AND you two are dancing together too, so please be nice to him.”

“Well, there go my plans to punch him in the face as soon as I meet him.” I joke.

“Y/N!” Katie whines. “That’s not funny! It’s my wedding at stake!”

“I know, I know, I’m sorry.” I give her a hug. “I love you. I know how important this is to you. I won’t let anything bad happen. I promise.”

“Thanks sis.” Katie replies. “Anyway, come on, we’re leaving in ten minutes.” She orders, walking towards the door.

“Yes ma’am.”

“Oh! I forgot to tell you! Nick’s going to be staying here too, so you’ll be seeing each other a lot more!” She announces happily.

“...He’s WHAT?!”

~~~

The sounds of the radio fill the car as the three of us sit in silence. I think the song they’re playing is by ABBA....or maybe Fleetwood Mac. Actually, I wasn’t really paying attention to whatever song was playing. Shocking, I know. Instead, I was sitting tapping my leg, waiting to see if I could notice Nick. Nick. The man I thought I would just be dancing with at my sister’s wedding, and making pleasant conversation with, not sharing a space with for the next three weeks. I love my sister, I honestly do...but god, I wish she’d tell me things in advance sometimes.

But that’s who Katie is. She’s spontaneous, I’m not. She’s an extrovert, and I’m the introvert. She’s wild and fun...and I’m boring. In some ways, we’re polar opposites of each other. But that also draws us closer together. Yes, aside from our genetics, we weren’t that alike...but we were still sisters, and the best of friends.

“There he is! I see him!” Katie pipes up excitedly, cutting off my thoughts. She and Adam immediately get out of the car and start waving him over, leaving me in the backseat. Immediately my cheeks flush. Oh god, he’s going to have to sit next to me, isn’t he? Shit. I glance out of the window and see Nick is close by. Sighing, I decide I better get out and greet him. If I was going to be spending three weeks living with him, I better make a good first impression.

“Hi Katie!” His voice greets her, and he pulls her into a hug. “I’ve not seen you in forever!”

“I saw you like two weeks ago!” She giggles. Nick then turns to Adam, and greets him. I stand back a little, watching them. The three of them look happy and natural together. Like a proper family. While I feel like the one who doesn’t belong. The puzzle piece that doesn’t fit into this happy family dynamic. Of course, I couldn’t tell Katie that, that would make her feel even more worried, and she didn’t deserve this stress. Not now. I take a deep breath. All I need to do is make it through these three weeks until the wedding. “Nick.” Katie begins, gesturing towards me. “This is my sister Y/N, the maid of honour!” Deep breaths Y/N. You can do this. It’s just a guy. After all, it’s not like he’s a Greek God or something. And then he turns around.

His blue eyes sparkle, and he grins. “So this is the girl I’m going to dance with, huh?” He holds out his hand. “It’s nice to meet you, Y/N. I’m Nick.”

Oh my god, he’s gorgeous. What I said about him not being a Greek God? I was wrong. He looks better than that. Oh god, I’m so fucked. Oh god, he’s staring at me, and I haven’t said anything to him. I quickly grab his hand and shake it. Hopefully he doesn’t notice my sweaty palms.

“It’s nice to meet you, Nick.” I flash a smile, hoping to every god there is that I don’t have lipstick or food on my teeth.

“I’ve heard so much about you!” I...wish I could say the same. Katie really needs to tell me things in advance...including whether or not her fiancé hangs out with Greek God lookalikes.

“All good, I hope!” I chuckle awkwardly. Nick smiles again.

“All great things.” The two of us stand there, just staring at each other. Katie’s voice calls over:

“Come on, you two, I’m starving! Stop eyeballing each other and get in the car!” My eyes go slightly wide, and I quickly get into the car, desperate not to make a fool of myself, even if it seemed Katie was trying to.

“Oh, sorry Nick. Just move my bag and jacket from your seat.” I tell him as he opens his door. “Actually, just pass them over here.” He passes them over, and as I reach out to take them, our hands brush against each other. Shivers run up my spine. This isn’t normal, right? No, it isn’t. You don’t usually feel shivers up your spine when you brush hands with people you just met. That usually means something deeper....right? Nick gets in beside me, and I’m immediately aware of the smell of his cologne. He smells great. Like...really great. God, this man really is the full package, huh? Adam sets off, and I settle back into my seat, trying not to make eye contact with anyone.

“So, what’s Saint Chase like?” I hear Nick ask, causing me to look back up at him. “I’ve never been here before, so I was just wondering, like, is there any fun things to do, or any good memories? I know you and Katie grew up here, so...” He seems genuinely interested, and I have no idea what to tell him. I mean, what could I say? I’m guessing Katie didn’t tell him how desperate I was to get the hell out of the town as soon as I could.

“Well....” I begin. “To be honest, Nick, I’m not the best person to ask.” I admit. “I haven’t been back here in a while. You’d be better off asking Katie if you need a tour guide...sorry.” As soon as the words leave my mouth, Nick looks a little disappointed, but he doesn’t say anything regardless. I sink back into my seat again. I mean, it wasn’t like I lied...I genuinely don’t remember much about the town...or I had just tried to block out the memories so much, it actually worked.

After another agonising car journey, the car parks outside of Saint Chase’s diner. Again, like Nana’s house, it looked like nothing had changed from what I remembered. It was almost like the town was part of its’ own little universe, where the buildings and the people in it never grew up, and neither would you if you stayed there. Okay, maybe that was dramatic, but still.

Katie pushes open the door, and the woman behind the counter looks up as we walk in. Before any of us could say anything, the woman exclaims:

“OH! MY! GOD! Is that who I think it is?!” She quickly runs out from behind the counter, and up to Katie and I. “It is! It’s Rose’s granddaughters!” She pulls us both into a hug, giving us a tight squeeze. Pulling away, she looks us up and down. “Remember me? It’s Jane! God, I remember when your Grandma, god rest her soul, used to bring you in for breakfast every Saturday, ever since you were about this high Katie.” She points to her knee. Straightening back up, she looks us both over again. “Aw, you both look so much like your mother. Especially you, Y/N.” She smiles, causing a pang in my heart. She looks behind us, not noticing the sad expression on my face. “Ooooh! Are these the boyfriends?” She winks. “They’re gorgeous, good on you girls!”

“Well Jane, this is my fiancé Adam-” Katie begins, immediately getting squeals of delight, and congratulations in return. “And this is his best friend Nick, who’s the best man.”

“But we’re not dating.” I finish. Even if he was really gorgeous.

“Oh that’s right! I forgot you two are getting married here!” She sighs. “I’d forget my head if it wasn’t screwed on, honestly.” She steps closer to me, and her voice drops to a whisper. “But if you’re serious about not taking him honey, let me know, and I gladly will. He’s beautiful.” She gestures toward Nick. “Anyway! Let me get you four the best seats in the house. Follow me!” She orders, and the four of us do so. Jane leads us to a booth near the back of the diner and passes over some menus. “I’ll be right back to get you some drinks.” She grins.

“Well...she seems friendly!” Nick states, making us all laugh.

~~~

Later

“So anyway, Nick is completely drenched by this point. I mean, obviously, he had fallen into a pool.”

“Pushed. I was pushed.” Nick corrects, making Katie and I laugh. Adam was telling us stories of him and Nick in college, and I was feeling a lot more comfortable. Nick was hilarious, and he seemed really sweet. Maybe sharing a house with him for three weeks wouldn’t be so bad after all. “Anyway, that’s why I immediately pulled him into the pool with me, so he could know how it feels.” Nick finishes.

“Oh, you should’ve been there, babe. We both had white shirts on. Abs for days.” Adam tells Katie. God, of course Nick has abs. Wouldn’t expect anything else.

“Really? Maybe Y/N should’ve been there, she loves ab- ouch!” Katie begins, before I gently kick her in the shin. Adam and Nick look over, clearly concerned. “Sorry, just....bashed my leg on the table leg.” She lies, and I give her a pointed look, causing her to raise an eyebrow.

“Okaaaay...anyway, we’ve told a story about our college mishaps, how about one from you two?” Nick asks. Katie furrows her eyebrows for a moment, clearly deep in thought...and then her eyes light up. Oh no. Why do I have a feeling this will end badly for me?

“Did I ever tell you two about the time Y/N almost went to a midterm in her underwear?” And there it is.

“Nonononono, we don’t need to hear this story!” I gasp, my cheeks flushing red.

“Oh I think we do.” She winks, while I hide my face in my hands. And there goes my last shred of dignity. And with it, any hopes of having Nick see me as anything other than a total mess.

~~~

That Night

I was sitting on my bed, reading. Since we had gotten home from the diner, I had retreated upstairs, changed into my pyjamas and stayed there. Mainly because I was trying to avoid Nick, and any other potential forms of embarrassment before the wedding. Maybe I could just stay in there until the wedding? Sighing, I put my book down and lean back into my pillows. Not that I was paying much attention to the book anyway. Why was I like this? I mean, yeah, of course I didn’t want to embarrass myself, especially in front of a guy, but why was I going to such lengths for Nick? Why was I so hell-bent on not embarrassing myself in front of him? There must be something about him...something...different. Of course, he’s the best man to my maid of honour in my sister’s wedding, which is obviously part of it, but it felt like there was something more there. Something I didn’t understand. A knock at the door pulls me out of my thoughts.

“Katie, I hope you’re here to- oh!” I gasp when I see who is on the other side of the door. Nick stands there, dressed in a t-shirt and plaid pyjama pants. His hair was wet from a shower, and looked slightly curly.

“Hi.” He says, his voice slightly husky, causing the shivers from before to return.

“H-Hi, Nick.” I stammer. “What can I do for you?” He doesn’t answer me, and instead passes over a steaming mug.

“We made some tea, and I thought I’d bring you a mug.” He explains.

“Thanks.” I take a sip of the tea, immediately feeling its warmth pass through me.

“Are you feeling alright?” Nick asks. “You came up right after we got back from dinner, and you’ve been up here for a while, so I was wondering if you were okay.”

“Oh...yeah I’m fine, just tired from my flight.” I lie. Nick smiles and nods.

“Yeah I get that, I think it’ll be an early night for me too.” The two of us stand there for a minute, neither of us saying anything to the other. “Nice pyjamas by the way.” Nick breaks the silence, and I glance down at my Minnie Mouse pyjamas, immediately wishing I’d brought different ones.

“Thanks.” And then, back to silence. But in a way, it was a comfortable silence, one where we didn’t have to say anything to each other, and instead, just enjoy the company of each other.

“Well, I think I’m going to head off to bed. I’ll see you tomorrow. Goodnight Y/N.” He smiles. “It was really nice to meet you today.”

“Yeah, it was.” I smile back. “Goodnight Nick.”

~~~

The Next Day

“Morning sleepy head.” Katie says through a mouthful of toast as I walk into the kitchen.

“It’s 9am. This is early for me.”

“I know, I know. Just teasing.” She laughs.

“Anyway, what do you need me to do today? What still needs doing?” I ask, reaching down to grab a slice of toast.

“Hey!” Katie swats my hand away. “And about that...” She trails off. “I’ll tell you in a sec.” I hear the noise of someone coming downstairs. I don’t even have to question who it is, as I hear:

“Morning ladies.” His voice sounds huskier than it did last night. God, what is it with him?

“Hey Nick.” We reply. “Actually Nick, I need to speak to you and Y/N.” Katie tells him as I grab a glass of water. “Adam and I were talking last night, and we had an idea for some...special wedding tasks for you two.” I raise an eyebrow, and Nick gives me a questioning look. I shake my head, symbolising I have no idea what she means. Katie clears her throat. “We thought that Y/N should show you around town, Nick!” I almost choke on my water.

“What?” I gasp.

“Yeah, I mean, it gives you two the chance to get closer, which is going to be useful for the wedding.” She explains. “And it’ll help you to get to know the town again Y/N!”

“I mean, yeah, sounds good.” Nick nods. No, it doesn’t sound good. That sounds like everything I don’t want to happen. Nick was great, but I did not want to fall back in love with this town and remember all the memories I tried so hard to forget. But then, I look into the eyes of my baby sister, and I know I can’t break her heart. Especially not before her wedding. Even if it hurts me, I sigh and nod.

“Nick’s right. It sounds good.” Katie’s face lights up.

“Thanks guys!” She pulls us both into a hug. Now I definitely can’t break her heart and say no. “You two can start today.” She grins. “But don’t keep her out too late Nick, I need her back here to help make the centrepieces later.” She winks. “Have fun.” She whispers, heading upstairs.

“So...when do you wanna start?” I ask Nick.

“Well, if you want, we could go for a walk later today?” He offers.

“Sure. Just let me get some food and get ready, then we can head out.” I tell him, and he agrees, before also heading upstairs. And then, I’m alone.

Like I said before, It’s going to be a long three weeks.

#nick x reader #dacre montgomery fic #dacre montgomery fanfic #coming back home fic #dacre montgomery #dacre x reader

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