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finelinefae · 6 months ago

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bambi [ceo!h x shy!reader]

synopsis: y/n tries a dating app and meets the CEO of Pleasing

word count: 8.6k

contains: ceo!harry x assitant!y/n, deer!reader vibes, dating app, online dating, deer!reader, first date, first kiss, fluff, age gap (9 years)

a/n: this is the first part of a new series. as usual the first part is a lil slow to set things up but I'm excited for what's to come of this one. there's going to be a lot of cuteness and all the things i love writing about in this one so i can't wait to share more !

this is part 1 of Bambi, read part 2 here

. . .

Most of the time Y/N didn’t want to be in control of things.

From a young age, she had to be in charge of everything. She had three younger brothers and was born to a single mother who worked hard to keep everything afloat in their tiny, townhouse. So inevitably she became an adult before she could even buy a lottery ticket.

Her life wasn’t bad, but it wasn’t easy. With the constant nagging from her much younger siblings and the dampened sleeve of her t-shirt—evidence of the hours she spent comforting her mother through tears—Y/N had just had enough.

Her life had become an abundance of things she was struggling to keep up with. She had no reprieve throughout her daily life, no way of stopping or just letting go.

She worked six-hour shifts at the supermarket, studied marketing at university, did the school run in the mornings, and often in the evenings too, if her mother was too tired to get off the couch. She tutored her youngest brother, who was falling behind in math, and kept the house in order while all three of them stayed glued to the television.

Even worse, her social life was practically nonexistent.. She was twenty-one and spent her Friday nights making dino nuggets and catching up on an incessant amount of laundry from the past week.

Y/N wasn’t sure where her life was heading. The loneliness and stress was so overwhelming she could barely breathe.

One night, the weight of it all brought her to tears as she thought about her future after graduation. Most of the girls she knew were planning gap years, travelling to places like Brazil or Italy. She tried to picture herself boarding a plane, but the only thing she could imagine was her mother calling mid-flight, asking her to pick up one of the boys from school.

She pulled open her phone eyes blotchy and nose stuffy from crying. Her loneliness was hitting her hard and she was desperate to feel some kind of connection, even if it was five minutes of conversation. So, she opened the only dating app she had on her phone, one that she’d installed many moons ago when she wanted to open herself up to meeting new people.

She barely used it after realising she wasn’t the best at small talk and whenever a guy would ask for a date, her introverted self would refuse to step foot out of the house. But on occasion she’d find herself wondering, searching for someone to take her mind off of everything.

Y/N swiped past copious images of men, seemingly unphased by all of them. She swiped through so many, that they almost began to look the same - 5’9, tanned, shirtless or lifting weights trying to show some kind of strength that proved to women they were most definitely ‘manly’.

When she started to believe all hope was lost, she paused when her eyes settled on a man who didn’t look much like the others. He was tall, with brunette curls and green eyes that crinkled when he smiled. He wore rings on his hands in every single picture and in one of them he wore a shirt with the sleeves rolled up to reveal a sleeve of tattoos. In most of his pictures he wore comfy sweaters and knitted cardigans with grey or black trousers. In one of them he wore a pair of blue jeans and had a small, battered copy of The Catcher in the Rye in his back pocket.

She read his bio beneath.

‘Harry, 30

Likes: scrabble, food, cats, books, cardigans

Dislikes: loud chewing, music played too low, emails, wearing sunglasses indoors at dinner is absolutely criminal’

She clicked the heart on his profile, eyes widening when the words ‘MATCH’ appeared on the screen in big bubble writing. He hadn’t sent her a message but clearly he had liked her own profile which was surprising considering she had barely anything on it.

As she was mulling over what to say to start the conversation, three bubbles quickly appeared then disappeared, replaced by a message. She held her breath, reading the words.

Harry: Hey, pretty dress

She frowned, wondering what he meant by that but then remembered she had a picture of her on her profile, showcasing one of her favourite dresses. It was a baby pink slip dress she had made out of silk fabric.

Y/N: Thank you, I made it! :)

Harry: You did? Wow! Looks better than most of the ones I’ve seen in my own store.

Y/N: Do you own a clothing store?

Harry: Something along those lines

Harry: Although they don’t sell pretty dresses like yours

Y/N: They’re probably a lot better, I use cheap materials

She cringed at her message, hoping she didn’t sound broke or not put together by saying she used something cheap.

Harry: I’m even more impressed

She smiled, watching him type a new message.

Harry: What brings you here?

She tried to sum up how she was feeling without making herself seem like a weirdo. She didn’t want to sound like a recluse looking for human interaction no matter how much she felt like it.

Y/N: I’m tired of everything, just want someone to keep me company

Harry: I get that. Should I be worried? Are you okay?

Her heart warmed, she couldn’t remember the last time someone asked her if she was okay.

Y/N: I’m okay now, thank you for asking !! it’s just everyday life stuff.

Harry: Of course. Just let me know if there’s anything you want to talk about. I’m right here to listen… or read

Y/N: thank you, that truly means a lot!! xx

Harry: No problem, love x

Y/N’s heart flickered at the name he had placed on the end.

They texted for hours, well into the middle of the night. Y/N was giddy, rolling around on her bed, smiling so hard her cheeks ached. They had so much in common—both preferred quiet nights in, were family-oriented, loved literature and art and even fashion. He was funny and sweet, always checking in to make sure she was comfortable and that he wasn’t overstepping with his questions. Despite how much they had in common, they had a lot of differences too.

Y/N: Is it raining where you are? Xx

Harry: Hm, just checked outside and I think the clouds are coming over. I don’t mind though autumn happens to be my favourite season.

Y/N: omg really?

Harry: What? You don’t agree?

Y/N: No omg are you kidding? I’m much more into spring. I like that it’s sunny with a slight breeze so it’s warm but not too warm so you can still wear a sweater

Harry: Ahhh I see, you do give spring I must say

Y/N: You think so?

Harry: Even from looking at your pictures, you look like a tulip or something.

Harry: Or the little deer from that movie

Harry: What was it?

Harry: Bambi!

Harry: Maybe that should be your name - Bambi

Y/N: That’s one of my favourite movies !!

Y/N: I happened to think Bambi is a very pretty name

Harry: Then I’ll call you Bambi

Y/N: Well what should I call you?

Harry: Anything you like, Bambi

. . .

Y/N was working her shift at the supermarket. She was already entering her final hour, her stomach rumbling as she packed frozen pizzas onto the shelves. Although she had been working hard to get things done so she could go home on time, her mind was constantly wandering.

It had been a full week of talking to Harry. They had converted to messaging on WhatsApp after exchanging numbers and every day Y/N would wake up to a morning text message from him telling her to have a good day and that he would be right there in her pocket if she ever needed anything. In the evenings, he would make sure she wasn’t going to sleep with anything heavy on her mind. He’d ask her questions about what she ate and if she had any time to herself in the day. For the first time in a long time, Y/N felt a little less lonely. She went about her day with a little pep in her step feeling the excitement of texting the man she had only just met. She didn’t know what it was about him but a part of her felt safe with him. Maybe it was the fact he was nine years older than her and knew what it was like to be under stress with so many things but he understood her in a way no one else did.

And Bambi.

Every day, it was Bambi this and Bambi that, and every time, she’d swoon or smile at the nickname he had given her. It was silly, maybe even a little ridiculous, how much it affected her. But she couldn’t help it—every time he said it, a bubble of excitement grew inside her. She liked someone for the first time in a long time, and it brought something new, something light, into her overwhelming life.

After days of just simply texting, Y/N had asked him if he wanted to video call tonight. It would be her first time hearing what he sounded like and part of her was nervous. What if he came across differently from how he was over text? What if he didn’t look the way he did in the numerous pictures he had sent her? What if after calling tonight, he didn’t like her anymore?

Hours later, Y/N was tucked up in bed readying herself to call him. She had showered and blow-dried her hair, wearing her comfiest pink pyjamas with her body wrapped up in her duvet. Her thumb hovered over the call button, gnawing on her bottom lip as thoughts raced through her mind.

She gasped when Harry’s face appeared on her screen just seconds after she pressed call. It was their first time ever talking like this, and her heart raced as she took in the sight of him. He was sitting in a desk chair, a large framed artwork hanging on the wall behind him. His shirt was slightly rumpled, his tie loosened around the collar, and his curls fell lazily across his forehead. He looked so effortlessly handsome, it almost didn’t seem real.

“Hey,” he murmured, his voice breaking the stillness of her bedroom. It carried a warmth, soft and steady, like the glow of a campfire, and she felt herself melt under its gentle heat.

“H-Hi,” she squeaked, her cheeks immediately flushing with warmth. Her nerves bubbled up as she realized she was staring at him, trying to comprehend that this was actually happening. Surely she was dreaming, she pinched herself to make sure.

Harry’s eyes softened when he heard her shaky greeting. “You alright?” he asked, the corner of his mouth lifting in a small, amused smile. His tone was gentle, almost teasing, but there was something deeper there—like he was studying her reaction and enjoying every second of it.

She nodded quickly, fumbling with the hem of her pyjama shirt. “I’m good! Just… surprised you answered so fast.” She giggled nervously, her voice high-pitched and sweet, like she couldn’t quite believe this was happening. “I thought it’d take a few rings at least.” Her blush deepened as she tucked her knees up to her chest.

He chuckled softly, the sound rich and warm, making her heart flutter. “I was waiting for you to call,” he admitted, a soft smirk tugging at his lips.

Her heart skipped a beat, and she shyly glanced up at him through her lashes. “Really?” she asked, her voice soft and a little disbelieving.

He smiled, a slow, adoring smile that made her stomach flip. “Yeah, really. I’ve been thinking about it all day.” His voice had that low, confident tone, but his gaze was gentle, like he wanted to make sure she knew he meant it. “The only thing getting me through work.”

“You’re still at work? It’s nine-thirty!” she exclaimed, glancing at the clock in disbelief.

Harry’s lips curled into a playful smirk. “Is it past your bedtime, Bambi?” he teased, leaning back in his chair as he glanced at her through the screen.

Her heart stuttered hearing that nickname come from his own mouth. She felt like if the camera wasn’t on, she’d be floating around her room like a bright pink orb of light, “N-No,” she stammered, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “But shouldn’t you be going home by now? You’ve been working all day.”

He let out a small chuckle, shrugging as he glanced down at the papers scattered across his desk. “Got a lot to catch up on. Too many late nights spent talking to you.” His voice was warm, laced with affection despite his teasing.

Her heart sank for a moment, guilt creeping in. They’d been texting non-stop for weeks, and she hadn’t once thought about how it might be affecting his workload. He’d told her before that he worked for a clothing company, and it suddenly hit her how busy he must be.

Noticing the shift in her expression, Harry’s voice softened. “Y’thinking too much in that little head of yours?” he asked, cutting through her thoughts.

“Maybe a little,” she admitted quietly, biting her lip.

He shook his head, eyes never leaving hers. “You know I didn’t mean it as a bad thing, right? I love talking to you, Y/N. I think... I might even be a little obsessed with you,” he confessed, his smirk turning into a softer smile.

Her breath caught in her throat, and for a second, all she could do was stare at him, her heart thudding in her chest. “I-I think I’m obsessed with you too,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Yeah?” His voice was full of warmth, a hint of disbelief in it, like he hadn’t expected her to say it back. She nodded shyly, clutching her pillow tighter against her chest, her heart racing.

Harry huffed out a breath, rubbing a hand over his face to hide the wide grin that had taken over. “God, you’re even cuter than I imagined,” he murmured, his words full of adoration.

They talked for hours, diving into everything and anything that crossed their minds. It was the longest conversation they’d had since they started talking, and Y/N found herself more captivated by Harry than she thought was possible. The way he laughed, the way he listened—it all just pulled her in deeper.

In the middle of her sentence, she noticed Harry looking at her with an unusually soft expression, his eyes filled with something she couldn’t quite place. He suddenly spoke, cutting her off mid-thought. “Can I take you on a date?” His voice was gentle but firm, catching her completely off guard.

“O-Oh,” she stammered, blinking in surprise. She hadn’t expected him to want to meet her so soon, but her heart leapt at the thought. “I’d like that,” she replied, a soft smile spreading across her face. “Very much.”

His own smile widened, a mix of relief and excitement in his eyes. “How about Saturday evening? I could pick you up.”

“But wouldn’t that be too long of a drive?” she asked, biting her lip. She knew he lived in the city, about forty minutes away without traffic, and she didn’t want to inconvenience him.

Harry’s expression didn’t falter. “It’s not too far at all. Trust me, I don’t mind,” he said confidently. “I’ll pick you up at 8, sound good?”

Y/N’s heart fluttered, the idea of seeing him in person making her pulse race. She nodded shyly, her voice barely above a whisper. “Mhm, that sounds perfect.”

Harry’s grin grew, his eyes twinkling, “Can you wear the pretty dress you made?”

Y/N blushed, “You don’t want me to wear something a little more sophisticated?”

“Y’ can wear whatever makes you comfortable, I don’t mind but I think I’d like to see that little dress y’ made.”

She nodded, stifling a yawn as it slipped out. It was getting late, and Harry was still at his office, working. “Y’tired, lovie?” His voice softened.

“A little,” she lied, knowing full well she was more than exhausted. But the thought of ending the call made her chest tighten—she wanted to keep him on the line, even just for a few more minutes.

Harry chuckled softly as if he could see right through her. “Why don’t you rest those pretty eyes for me, yeah?” he murmured, his voice low and soothing, the gentle authority in his words making her entire body relax. She practically melted at the sound, her heart skipping a beat.

“M’kay,” she whispered, her eyelids already heavy as she let herself sink deeper into the comfort of his voice.

“I’ll be right here, alright?” he reassured her, his tone gentle and full of warmth.

She managed a soft smile, her words barely audible as her exhaustion overtook her. “Promise?”

“Promise Bambi,” he whispered, his voice the last thing she heard before sleep pulled her under.

. . .

“Mr. Styles?”

Harry looked up from his computer, peering over the rims of his glasses. His receptionist, Lindsey, stood in the doorway. “The samples for the newest collection have arrived. Would you like me to bring them in?” she asked, her voice polite but efficient, as always.

“Yes, please, Lindsey,” he replied with a sigh, signing off another email before hitting send. The endless stream of tasks had him feeling drained.

Though Harry wasn’t usually the type to show much warmth towards his employees, Lindsey was different. She’d been with him for years—long enough to earn not just his respect, but his trust. She was one of the very few people he relied on within his company.

Harry was the CEO of Pleasing, a major fashion company he had built from the ground up. His first line had been designed in a small studio, crafted with his own hands and the help of a few close friends who still worked by his side. Now, it was a global brand. He was on Forbes 30 under 30 and had features in magazines like GQ. He was even in Time magazine for most influential people.

Despite all the success, his day-to-day life had become an endless loop of emails, business meetings, and deadlines. Time for anything outside of work was a luxury he couldn’t afford. Lately, though, something, or rather someone, had started to make him reconsider how he spent his time.

He checked his phone once more having only picked it up a minute ago for the same reason. He hoped to see a message from Y/N, in fact he was eager to. Ever since he had messaged her on the only dating app he used, he hadn’t thought of anyone else but her.

It had been a spur-of-the-moment decision, one born out of the loneliness that weighed heavier than ever that night. Harry sat in his dimly lit office, the silence around him almost suffocating. He hadn’t dated in over a year, not since his last relationship, which had ended on a bitter note. That girl had taken advantage of him, using his desire of the relationship he wanted to manipulate him. She had drained his bank accounts, maxed out his credit cards on shopping sprees and lavish holidays with her friends, leaving him both financially and emotionally exhausted. After that, he’d grown wary of trusting anyone.

When he joined the website, he wasn’t exactly hopeful. The chance of finding someone who truly understood his career and mirrored his desires in a relationship seemed slim.

But then he met his Bambi.

He hadn’t been searching for anything specific that day, just scrolling aimlessly, but something about Y/N’s profile made him pause. There was a warmth to her, a genuine spark that went beyond her pictures. She didn’t seem to realise just how captivating she was, and that drew him in even more. It wasn’t just her beauty—though she was stunning—it was the way she spoke about the things she loved. Her messages were full of passion, filled with rambles about her favourite books, little moments in her day, or random thoughts that popped into her head.

Y/N had ignited something within him. He was excited for this newfound thing they had going on, a spark he hadn’t felt in years. Every message from her left him smiling at his phone, wondering what she’d say next. It was the kind of excitement that made the day feel a little brighter, knowing she was just a text away. He found himself looking forward to the simplest things—her daily updates, the way she’d ramble about something she’d seen or read, and even the photo updates she’d send him of things she was doing.

For the first time in a long time, he found himself imagining what it would be like to share his life with someone, instead of the quiet solitude he’d grown so used to. He couldn’t shake the thought of Y/N being that person—the one to bring warmth into the corners of his once-lonely home. He pictured what it would be like to have someone in his space, their presence adding a new kind of lightness. Someone to be there in the small, everyday moments and to keep him company after a long day at the office.

He couldn’t wait to meet her in real life, hold her in his hands and kiss the lips he spent nights dreaming about.

Harry snapped out of his daze when Lindsey opened the door and the manufacturers entered the room behind her, holding the fabric samples in their hands. They greeted him timidly, laying the samples on the table by the large floor-to-ceiling windows.

He walked over, black polished shoes clicking against the mahogany wood floor. He sighed when he took in the samples, he didn’t need to feel them to know they weren’t good enough. Uncapping the red pen, he drew a cross beside each sample, the men behind him releasing a shaky breath.

“Come back when you have what I want,” He murmured, dismissing them with a wave of his hand.

He checked the time on his watch and cursed. Today was his niece’s birthday and he promised his sister he’d visit in time for her birthday party this afternoon. “Lindsey,” He called, hearing her shoes against the floor before she opened the door to his office.

He pulled on his blazer, “I’ve got to leave, did you wrap that gift I gave you the other day?”

Lindsey frowned, “It’s under my desk but what about your meetings this afternoon?”

“Cancel them.” He shrugged.

His Porsche was parked out front by the time he stepped out of the building. He put the gift into the passenger seat and made a mental note to stop somewhere to buy a birthday card.

He glanced at his phone when a text came through.

Bambi: Half way through my shift. It’s been pretty rough, sorry for the late reply xx

His heart leapt when Y/N’s name appeared. He took his phone when he reached a red light and typed in a reply.

Harry: it’s okay lovie, call me when you finish yeah? x

He was desperate to speak to her even if it were just for a mere few seconds.

Making a left turn, he pulled into the parking lot of a small supermarket on the highway. It looked run down and old but there wasn’t anywhere else he could go to before he reached his sister's house.

People sat outside, smoking cigarettes and drinking out of beer cans. He ignored the glances they made towards him and his car.

He stepped inside and walked along the aisles, pausing when he noticed someone stacking things onto a shelf. His heart skipped a beat when he saw her. She was wearing blue jeans and a fuzzy white sweater, her hair was braided and fastened with pink, silk bows. She wore wired earbuds, her pink ballerina flats tapping against the laminate flooring.

She must have felt his gaze because her head lifted, eyes widening as they met his. Her soft, pink lips parted slightly, and in that instant, it was as if the world shifted—everything falling perfectly into place between them, as though they were always meant to find each other naturally.

Harry hadn’t noticed the sugar spilling from the bag she was holding until the store manager stormed over. “What the hell do you think you’re doing?” The sharp tone made Y/N jump, her body snapping upright as she stood frozen in front of her manager, fear flashing across her face.

“I-I’m s-sorry, I—” Y/N stammered, her voice trembling.

“How many times do I have to hear the same excuse from you?” her manager snapped. “Stupid, useless girl, costing me the whole damn shop.”

Y/N’s bottom lip quivered, her eyes welling up with unshed tears. “I-I know... I promised it wouldn’t happen again. It was an accident, really,” she whispered, her voice barely holding steady.

Harry’s frown deepened. Again? This had happened before?

From the way Y/N stood there, trying so hard not to cry, it was painfully clear—this wasn’t the first time her boss had spoken to her like this.

Harry’s jaw tightened as he watched the exchange, a surge of protectiveness rising in him. He had only known Y/N recently, but seeing her like this—small, vulnerable, and clearly hurt—stirred something deep within him. He couldn’t just stand there and let it happen.

“Excuse me,” Harry spoke up, his voice calm but firm, stepping closer. The store manager turned to him, annoyance flashing across his face.

“This doesn’t concern you,” the manager spat, his glare shifting to Harry.

“Actually, I think it does,” Harry replied, his eyes steady on the man. “You don’t need to speak to her like that.”

The manager scoffed. “And who the hell are you?”

Harry didn’t blink, his voice lowering. “Someone who knows when respect is lacking.”

Y/N looked up at Harry, wide-eyed, as if she couldn’t believe he was stepping in. Her heart raced, a mix of relief and anxiety bubbling inside her. She wasn’t used to anyone standing up for her like this.

“Y/N, why don’t you take a minute?” Harry said softly, glancing over at her, his voice now gentle and reassuring. The tears in her eyes made his chest physically hurt. He’d be quick with this useless piece of shit so he could give her all his attention.

She hesitated but then nodded, her gaze flicking between Harry and her boss. She quickly turned, slipping away from the confrontation, her hands shaking as she tried to compose herself.

Harry turned back to the manager, his calm exterior masking the frustration brewing underneath. “Speak to her like that again, and I won’t hesitate to have this place torn down, brick by brick, and replaced with a building I own. Then you’ll know firsthand what it’s like to deal with a real fucking manager.”

With that, he turned on his heel, already making a mental note to have his team look into this place. It was clearly lacking in more ways than one—enough to warrant being shut down for good he hoped.

Y/N stood behind the building, her back to him, shoulders trembling as she cried into her sleeve. Harry’s heart clenched at the sight. “Hey, hey, hey,” he murmured softly, stepping forward and gently pulling her into his chest. “Tha’s enough now, Bambi. Don’t waste your tears on him,” he whispered, his large hand rubbing soothing circles on her back. Holding her close felt unexpectedly right, as if this was exactly where she belonged, even if the circumstances weren’t ideal.

“I’m so embarrassed,” she sniffled, her voice small. “This isn’t how I wanted you to see me for the first time.”

His eyes softened with affection as he reached into his pocket, pulling out a handkerchief. Carefully, he wiped her tear-stained, blotchy cheeks, his touch tender. “You’ve got nothing to be embarrassed about, sweetheart,” he whispered, “S’alright now, y’ don’t have to go back in there.” He cupped the back of her head, feeling how soft and silky her hair was. He couldn’t seem to fathom that he was actually holding her after days of imagining what she would feel like.

She pulled away and for the first time Harry could get a proper look at her. He didn’t think it possible for her to be even more beautiful than the pictures he had of her on her phone but she was. Her features were soft, cheeks permanently pink like the colour of tulips on a spring day, her lips were the perfect shape, so delicate like two petals pressed together. She was a walking angel.

“Hey stranger,” He grinned, those perfect cheeks turning pink. If Harry had one goal in his life it was to make her all flustery and blushy.

“Hi,” She peeped, hands fiddling in front of her.

Her eyes widened when she saw the tear stains on his shirt, the damp spots revealing the tiniest hint of the tattoos on his torso. “I-I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to ruin your shirt,” She cringed.

“Hey no need to apologise, ‘s not even ruined and I’d rather you were okay than some easily replaceable shirt.” He assured her. “Are y’ sure you’re okay? Don’t need to go in there and beat him up or anything,”

She smiled at that and the sight made his heart sing, “No it’s okay. I-I’m okay, thank you for looking out for me. I don’t normally have people doing that very often.”

He frowned. He didn’t like how often she spoke about how little help she got from other people. If anything, it made him want to take care of her even more than he already did.

“I should probably head back in. I still have three more hours of my shift,” she huffed, clearly reluctant. It was the last thing she wanted to do.

Harry’s expression softened, but his tone remained firm. “You don’t have to,” he said, his gaze holding hers, protective and unwavering.

Y/N frowned, uncertainty flickering in her eyes. “But I need the job, Harry,” she whispered, her voice shaky. “I can’t just leave.”

His jaw tightened at her words. He hated seeing her stuck in a place that didn’t value her, where she wasn’t respected. “I know you need the job,” he replied, gentler now, trying to ease her worry. “But no job is worth being treated like that. Not by him.”

She bit her lip, glancing back at the store, anxiety clearly weighing on her. “What am I supposed to do, then? I can’t afford to lose it.”

Harry stepped closer, his hand finding its way to her cheek, thumb brushing away a stray tear. “You’re not going to lose anything,” he said softly. “Let me take care of it. Of you.”

Y/N blinked up at him, her heart pounding. “Take care of me?”

“Come work with me,” He offered.

There weren’t many positions available at Pleasing, but Harry didn’t care. He’d make something work—anything to keep her from going back into that place and dealing with the jerk inside.

“In the city? I... I can’t do that, Harry. I still have school, and my brothers...”

“You can work around it,” he said quickly, eager to find a solution. “I’ll pay for your gas to and from the city, or I’ll have someone drive you. Hell, I’ll drive you myself if it makes you feel better. Whatever you need. Just don’t stay here.”

He sighed softly, taking her small hand in his larger one, her warmth a comfort even as doubt flickered between them. “Just... think about it, yeah?” His thumb traced gentle circles on the back of her hand, trying to ease the tension.

Y/N hesitated but nodded slowly. “Okay,” she whispered, her voice barely above a murmur.

A grin spread across Harry’s face, his relief palpable. “Thank you Bambi.” He swore he saw her pupils carve into love hearts at his words.

. . .

Y/N hadn’t returned to her job at the store just as she promised Harry. It wasn’t only because Harry was insistent she didn’t go back but her manager had been pretty verbally abusive for quite some time now and she thought better than to go back and work for someone who was just plain mean.

A few days had passed and Saturday rolled around quickly. Y/N was giddy with excitement, preparing everything in time for Harry to pick her up to take her on their very first date this evening. She had arranged a babysitter to look after her brothers since her mother wouldn’t be home until late. It wasn’t often they splurged cash on hiring a babysitter but Y/N wasn’t going to rearrange her date with Harry for anything.

She’d made a list of everything she needed to do: wash and blow dry her hair, shave every inch of her body, and paint her nails with the glazed pink polish she’d ordered online. Her hair was in curlers as she carefully laid out her outfit for the evening—a pink satin slip dress she’d made herself, paired with white kitten heels that matched perfectly. With the season shifting into autumn, she added a thin white cardigan to keep her warm in case the night turned chilly on the way home.

She wanted to look perfect. Especially after the fiasco the other day when he had rescued her from her mean manager.

Everything seemed to move in slow motion the moment she laid eyes on the man from her phone. He was even more perfect than she had imagined—taller too. It still hadn’t sunk in that she was about to go on a date with this man—the one who wore a black suit to work and had saved her from cruel, terrifying managers.

And the way he spoke to her afterwards, comforting her with his big, heavy hands around her. She wanted him to pick her up and take her wherever he went.

Y/N sighed blissfully in front of her vanity. As Y/N finished her makeup, her phone buzzed with a message from Harry.

Harry: Just outside x

She peeked through the window, catching sight of him standing by a sleek black car, leaning casually against the door. He looked breathtaking in a fitted black suit, hands in his pockets as he scanned the street. Her nerves fluttered, a mixture of excitement and anticipation bubbling up. She took a deep breath, smoothed down her dress, and grabbed her cardigan before heading out the door.

The moment she stepped outside, Harry’s gaze snapped to her, dark and intense. He straightened up, eyes travelling over her form, taking in every detail of her appearance. The way he looked at her sent a shiver down her spine.

“Y’ look stunning, Bambi,” he murmured, his deep voice sending shivers down her spine. He took a step closer, his large hand cupping her cheek, thumb grazing her soft skin. “All this f’ me?”

Y/N blushed, biting her bottom lip nervously. “I-I wore the dress you wanted,” she mumbled shyly, looking up at him through her lashes, “Do you like it?”

“‘S perfect,” He murmured lowly.

“Ready to go, sweetheart?” He opened the car door for her, watching as she slid into the passenger seat, her delicate form contrasting with the dark interior of his Porshe. Harry’s eyes lingered on her legs for a moment before he shut the door and walked around to his side.

Once inside, he reached over, resting his hand on her thigh, the warmth of his touch comforting her immediately. “You nervous?” he asked, glancing at her with a small smile, though the look in his eyes held a trace of dominance.

“A little,” Y/N admitted, her voice soft and shy.

Harry gave her thigh a gentle squeeze. “Y’ don’t have to be nervous around me, love, promise ‘m not scary. Least of all t’ you.”

Y/N smiled, loving how he made it clear she was different, that he treated her in a way no one else could. It warmed her to feel special, especially when that feeling was rare for her.

As they drove, their conversation flowed easily. Y/N found herself opening up more and more, rambling about anything that came to mind. Harry listened intently, his smile soft as he asked questions, showing genuine interest in everything she said. Her eyes sparkled in the dim light of the car, and each time she answered bashfully, his lips curved.

Y/N’s eyebrows furrowed as they drove deeper into the city. The lights grew brighter, illuminating a part of town she rarely found herself in—where the wealthy lived, with towering apartment complexes and upscale restaurants lining the streets. Harry pulled over in front of a sleek Italian restaurant, where a man stood waiting by the curb.

“Are we allowed to park here?” Y/N asked, her face bathed in the glow of the restaurant’s lights.

Harry suppressed a grin at her confusion. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I just assumed we weren’t eating here, which is totally fine! You don’t need to impress me with a fancy restaurant.” Her cheeks flushed pink as she tried to clarify.

Harry’s lips curled into a teasing smirk. “What if I told you we are eating here?”

Y/N’s eyes widened in disbelief. “A-are we?”

Without answering, Harry reached for her hand, brushing his lips over the back of it. “Y’ too cute,” he murmured. “Come on, they’re waiting for us.” He stepped out of the car, passing his keys to the valet standing nearby, before adjusting his blazer and moving to open the door for her, his hand stretched out toward her for her to grab onto.

Y/N hesitated, her mind reeling. There was no way they were eating at this restaurant—the kind with a year-long reservation list and three Michelin stars. She’d heard rumours that a single course here could cost more than her entire paycheck for the week. But as she took his hand and stepped out, it felt impossible to believe this was really happening.

Harry intertwined their fingers, offering a brief nod to the waiter who opened the door for them. “Harry… are you sure? They probably don’t have any tables for people just walking in,” she whispered.

He chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, love. I made some arrangements.”

Her brows furrowed in surprise. “Arrangements? How?”

Stopping at the ‘Please Wait to Be Seated’ sign, Harry finally turned to her with a playful twinkle in his eye. “I own the restaurant.”

Y/N’s mouth fell open as a waiter approached, menus tucked neatly under his arm. “Good evening, Mr. Styles. Your table is ready.”

Feeling like she was in a dream, Y/N walked hand-in-hand with Harry to a private table near the large glass windows at the back. The breathtaking view of the city’s skyline stretched out before them, and the table, set for two, was tucked away to offer them some privacy.

As they were seated, Y/N couldn’t help but notice the quiet stares and murmurs from other guests. She knew Harry owned a clothing business, but… just how successful was he?

The waiter laid the menus out in front of them and left them to decide what they wanted to order. Y/N hadn’t even noticed as her wide eyes gazed around the room at the glowing chandeliers.

Harry reached for her hand beneath the table, “Are y’ okay love?” He asked. Y/N’s gaze snapped towards him, “I hope ‘s not too much.”

“H-Harry, I really appreciate you bringing me here, I mean even stepping inside is a dream come true, but… I c-can’t afford this.” She felt awful saying it but it was true and it was better to tell him now than when she’d finished her meal, she wouldn’t want him thinking she was out for his money.

Harry frowned, “Bambi, this is a date. Y’ don’t have to pay for anything.”

“B-but I can’t use your money.” She told him.

She couldn’t hear it but Harry’s heart was singing in his chest. She was exactly what he was looking for someone totally opposite to all the women he had dated in his past.

He cupped her cheek in his hand, “Look at me Y/N,” Big, doe eyes gazed into his, “Please stop worrying and let me take care of you. I know y’ haven’t been given that in the past but ‘m here now and I want this. I wanted to bring y’ here and I want y’ to be spoiled and I want to treat you in the way you deserve. So can you pick something from the menu and let me look after you Bambi baby, please? Think you can do that?”

Her lips parted, slowly nodding her head but she quickly said one last thing, “You don’t have to take me to fancy places to make me feel spoiled Harry. I already feel spoiled enough just getting to be with you.”

He smiled, eyes glistening under the low light of the chandelier. He placed a hand on her thigh and squeezed as a small thank you. “Have you decided what you’re going to eat?”

"Hmmm," Harry grinned, watching Y/N's pouted lips as she studied the menu with intense concentration. "I can't decide between the truffle pasta or the smoked salmon!" she huffed, clearly torn.

"How about this," he offered with a shrug, "I’ll get the smoked salmon, you get the truffle pasta, and we can share? That way you can try both."

She glanced up at him, her brow furrowing slightly. “You don’t want something else?”

He had been planning on ordering the steak and potatoes, but seeing how much this small decision seemed to weigh on her, he didn’t mind changing his mind. The smoked salmon was one of his favourite dishes anyway.

When the waiter came over, Harry confidently placed the order for both of them, which made Y/N visibly relax. She hated the pressure of ordering her own food, so the simple act of him taking charge made her feel instantly at ease.

“We’ll make sure to have your order as a priority, Mr. Styles,” the waiter nodded respectfully before walking away.

Y/N’s eyes widened in surprise. “Wow. They must really like you here.”

Harry chuckled softly, leaning back in his chair. “Didn’t I mention I owned a clothing business?”

“Mhm,” she nodded, “But I thought it was just a boutique or something.” She shrugged, clearly unaware of the scale.

Harry laughed a warm, deep sound that made her stomach flip. “Bambi,” he said, pulling her gently into his side until their cheeks were almost touching, “See that guy’s sweater? That woman’s hat? And that lady’s dress over there?” She nodded everytime he pointed towards them, her heart skipping a beat at their closeness. “We made all of those.”

Her eyes widened in shock. “W-wait, you own Pleasing?”

Harry nodded, a small, proud smile tugging at the corner of his lips. Y/N couldn’t even count how many times she had opened the Pleasing website, scrolling through pages of clothes she desperately wanted but couldn’t afford. And now, she was sitting across from its owner—no, she was on a date with him.

“Mhm,” he hummed, pulling away slightly to gauge her reaction. "Which reminds me, have you given any more thought to the job?"

She had, actually. The idea had been rolling around in her mind ever since he’d mentioned it. "What's the role again?" she asked, trying to sound casual.

"My assistant," Harry replied smoothly. "You’d help with emails, scheduling meetings, running errands—nothing too complicated. Just being my right hand.”

“Wouldn’t that be awkward, though? Since we’re, y’know... dating?”

Harry smirked, catching the implication. "So, there’s going to be a second date?" His teasing tone made her blush. “And if anything, it makes it better. I’d get to see you every day instead of just texting."

“But what about school?” Y/N asked, trying to think practically.

“We’ll figure it out,” he said easily. “Whatever you need. We can make it work.”

“Shouldn’t there be an interview or something?” she quipped, trying to lighten the moment, though her heart was racing.

Harry sighed dramatically, playing along. “Alright. Hello, Miss Y/L/N. Welcome to your official interview for the position of Mr. Styles’ personal assistant.”

Y/N giggled, her nerves easing as she followed his lead. “Well, hello Mr. Styles. Thank you for having me.”

Harry’s lips curled into a smile, his eyes twinkling as he played along. “First question,” he said, leaning closer, their faces now just inches apart. “How do you feel about spending every day with me? Answer carefully—it’s a tough one.”

Y/N couldn’t help but giggle, her cheeks flushing a soft pink. “Well, Mr. Styles, I think I could manage that.”

“Good answer,” he praised, his voice a low rumble that sent a shiver down her spine. “Next question: Can you handle a man who’s very particular about his coffee?”

She tilted her head, raising an eyebrow in playful suspicion. “Are we talking normal particular, or... like, twelve-steps-to-make-a-single-cup particular?”

Harry chuckled, his dimples deepening. “Maybe somewhere in between. But don’t worry, I can teach you.”

Y/N laughed softly, her nerves easing even more. Being around him was easy, natural—like slipping into something familiar and warm. “I think I could handle that.”

"One last question," Harry murmured, leaning in even closer. His gaze flickered to her lips for a brief second before locking back onto her eyes. "How do you feel about sneaking around with your boss?"

Her laughter died down, a trace of seriousness replacing it. She knew the risks—things had to stay professional, no hint of their relationship could slip through especially since Harry would not only be her boss but was the Senior Director and had to have the respect of everyone. But still, she couldn’t resist.

“I think it could be fun,” she whispered, her voice barely audible.

“Good,” He murmured, “I think you’ve passed the test, Bambi,” Y/N noticed how close his lips were to hers, if she moved her face forward they’d be touching, “Any questions?”

. . .

Harry pulled the car up to the curb just outside Y/N’s house, the gentle hum of the engine fading as he switched it off. The street was quiet, the only light coming from the street lamps casting long shadows on the pavement. Inside her house, the windows were dark, and she silently hoped her brothers were already asleep, sparing her the awkwardness of explaining why she wasn’t rushing inside.

The silence between them felt comfortable yet charged, neither making a move to leave. It was as if both of them knew the night shouldn’t end yet, even though it had to at some point. Y/N looked down at her hands, nervously tracing the edge of her coat, stealing glances at Harry every few moments. He seemed deep in thought, his fingers drumming lightly on the steering wheel, but the same hesitation hung in the air between them.

“Thanks for dinner,” she said softly, her voice breaking the silence.

He turned to her, his expression soft but intent, as if weighing every word. “Don’t need t’ thank me Bambi,” he replied, his eyes lingering on her face a moment longer than necessary.

“I wish I didn’t have to go home,” She huffed, looking down at her fingers on her lap.

Harry’s lips curved into a small smile, but there was a seriousness in his eyes. He leaned back in his seat, turning his body slightly toward her. “Y’ want to go back to mine?”

She wanted nothing more, the pain of saying no physically paining her, “M-my brothers... they have school,” she murmured.

“S okay,” He smiled.

The air between them felt thick with unspoken feelings, and she could feel her heart race as the weight of his gaze settled on her. He reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, his touch soft.

“Bambi,” he said quietly, his voice suddenly more intimate, like he was laying something important on the table.

She turned to face him fully, her breath catching as his fingers brushed against her cheek, lingering just long enough to make her pulse race. The space between them seemed to vanish, and suddenly, all she could think about was the way his lips would feel against hers.

Neither of them spoke. The tension that had been simmering all evening finally boiled over. Harry’s hand cupped her cheek, and in that quiet moment under the dim streetlights, he leaned in.

The kiss was gentle at first, tentative, like they were both testing the waters. But as soon as their lips touched, a wave of emotion flooded over her, and she couldn’t help but respond. Her hand found its way to the back of his neck, pulling him closer as the kiss deepened, slow and lingering. It wasn’t rushed or hurried—just soft, warm, and full of everything Y/N had been dreaming about for longer than she cared to admit.

When they finally pulled apart, Harry rested his forehead against hers, both of them catching their breath, their lips still tingling from the kiss. His hand lingered on her cheek, as though neither of them was ready to let the moment slip away just yet.

Y/N opened her mouth to say something, maybe to break the silence or make a joke about how long they’d waited for this. But before she could speak, a loud thud startled her. She turned her head, eyes widening as the lights in her house flickered on. And there they were—her brothers, pressed against the living room window, grinning like fools and making exaggerated kissy faces at them.

“Oh my God,” Y/N groaned, mortified. Her face flushed a deep shade of red as she fumbled with her seatbelt. "This is so embarrassing."

She pushed the door open and scrambled out of her seat, grabbing her purse in a flurry of panic. “I am so sorry, Harry. I-I have to go,” she stammered, her words tumbling out in a rush as she awkwardly tried to regain her composure. “Thank you for dinner, a-and the kiss! Oh, and the job too!”

In her haste, her heel caught on a paving stone, and she stumbled slightly, her purse nearly slipping from her hand as she made her way toward the front door.

Harry watched her, his mouth half open, caught between amusement and disbelief. She was flustered, rambling, and absolutely adorable. He couldn't stop the soft chuckle that escaped him as he leaned back in his seat, shaking his head.

"Bambi!" he called out the car window, grinning. “I'll take that as a yes on the job?”

Y/N turned back briefly, her face flushed but her smile shy and genuine. “Yes! Definitely yes!” she called over her shoulder, before hurrying inside, her brothers still laughing from the window.

As she disappeared through the door, Harry chuckled to himself, the warmth from their kiss still lingering. He turned the ignition on, shaking his head in disbelief at how the night had unfolded. It was far from the graceful goodbye he had imagined, but somehow, it felt perfect. He couldn’t stop smiling as he pulled away from the curb.

Yeah, he thought to himself, that definitely meant she was taking the job.

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evilminji · 8 months ago

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Okay this is going to drive me INSANE. D:>

Dearly beloved, Phandom darlings...

Can DANNY EAT VIDEO GAME/TV FOOD?

I... I NEED to know. You don't UNDERSTAND!? Think about it. No, seriously. THINK about all those HIGHLY unrealistic, too good to be true, PERFECT looking meals. Animated shows n games etc where there are chefs who will "cook for Anybody!"

Now think about being 14 going 20. A teenager. A broke college student. Your fridge is empty and everything you touch? Comes back to LIFE. You're... you're just so hungry. Tired. Your bruises have bruises and you have a paper due tomorrow.

I kinda want to CRY.

Can only eat cup ramen so many times before you DO.

And this show? That commercial? Yonder cooking game?? Well... they did a REAL good job animating it. It looks so WARM. So FILLING and COMFORTING. You can practically SMELL it.

You look down at your sad, soggy, cheap but you can afford it, EZ Noodles and? Feel something BREAK inside. You... you KNOW you can travel inside technology. KNOW this. Have done it before. Why... why AREN'T you? You can't keep living like this.

You gotta TRY, right?

I? Wanna believe it TOTALLY works?? Because Ectoplasm is weird like that? And just shrugs? Says "actual food, the concept of food backed by electricity, what's the difference? Sure, we can fuck with this"? And so Danny? IMMEDIATELY fucking switches his diet.

Like? Dead stop screech, slam on the breaks, u-turn to take that last off-ramp. Type IMMEDIATE.

Grocery bill? No, no, you mistake him! No. NOW it's his "carefully researched for their cooking, games and shows" bill. Touch his collection and he'll FUCKING BITE.

They got sticky notes on the cases. Menus n lil fold out "grocery store" locations. He punched a dragon for this fruit. Mmmmm, home cooked meeeeeals~

Just? Weird Foodie Danny. Yes he DOES know what those steaks taste like. While YOU fuckers were staring at the cat girls bizangas, HE was eating granny cat lady's home made meatball stew! Ha! YOU FOOLS!

More then that? I want him to write reviews. Like "yeah, fight system was OKAY but- *5 hour glowing rant about the food, sounding like a food critic who'd actually fucking gone and loved it* " and people are like?? Who? Is this funky lil madman? This is hilarious?

I want it to be DPxDC JUST? So everyone slowly starts to play the game "Meta or Shtick?" Because no one REALLY knows who he is. This dude gets POPULAR though. For some reason can't be hacked (shame on you guys! Way to try and ruin the FUN!). And like? Eventually? Someone just fucking ASKS?

And Danny is like... " wouldn't YOU like to know, weatherboy?"

So everyone is like:

"Meta."

But hey... since they're already ASSUMING~? >:3c WHOOOOO wants to help him PAY RENT~? Let's VLOG this fucker! Wooooo! Say "hi" Catchef! *feline noises* like? It's like a let's play combined with a mukbang.

Teen Heros everywhere are FACINATED. Game developers are suddenly like? "If there's food. You BETTER make it look amazing. We want that weird YouTube twink to... whatever his powers are, our game! Free viral marketing!" Food channels? Rending their clothes, on their KNEES, please! PLEASE! Just ANSWER OUR EMAIL! Just ONE SHOW! A one off! Guest appearance!

We have MONEY!!!

All while Danny? Is finally happy with his life. Weird as hell. Harrasing the world. Good food on the regular. Gets to travel, kinda. Best of all? He's raising money from it! Can help people! Now... who wants salad?

@babbling-babull @hdgnj @hypewinter @legitimatesatanspawn @spidori @dcxdpdabbles @the-witchhunter @lolottes

#dpxdc #dp x dc #dc x dp #dcxdp #dc x dp prompt #danny phantom #minji's writing #feeding phantom au

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twice-inamillion · 1 month ago

Text

Twice Series

Life-Changing News

Chapter 246

1,930 Words

(The world as you know it takes a turn for the worse. A sudden outbreak, many get sick and many more die. It’s moments like these where you need to stay together.)

You turn your phone back on after an eleven-hour flight back to Korea. Numerous emails and text notifications bombard your phone. “Must be serious.” So, on the car ride back home, you try to go through them, realizing the urgency.

One of those emails is from your broker, urging you to observe the international and domestic stock markets. In those emails, you received notifications of a possible lockdown in Wuhan due to a containment issue.

The more you read, the more you realize the potential problem it might have as people travel abroad due to the Chinese New Year. You go on multiple social platforms, searching for any information on the seriousness of the situation.

You turn and look at Nayeon, sleeping in the car after a long flight. Your phone goes off, and you see a message from your wife, who sent you a message welcoming you back and a picture of your children having breakfast. “The babies missed you.”

You arrive at the company building, where you turn in your report before heading back home. Nayeon continues to sleep on the way back, and you decide to listen to a report on the status of a potential epidemic within the Chinese region and the possibility of quarantining the city.

The report continues to relay that government vehicles have begun to arrive at the city, and transportation entering and exiting has been suspended. This has caused people to try to exit the city as they predict the shutdown of the city.

You arrive at the front gate when the two large metal doors open. You drive through the motor court and see Jisoo and Ari’s heads against the large window, waving as they see you.

You see the large door open, and the two come running out shouting, “Appa! Daddy!” You crouch down and pick them both up, one in each arm. “Jisoo, Ari, I missed both of you. Did you take care of everyone while Daddy was out?” They both nod and say, “Mommies and babies safe.”

All of you walk back to the house's entrance, where you see from afar the rest of the members in the living room. You place Jisoo and Ari on the ground, “I’m back.”

Hina scoots down from the couch and walks towards you, asking for your hand, “Daddy, Hina show Da-Da, walk.” Hina leads you to where Daeun is playing and squats, “Da-Da, come, come…” waving her hand.

Daeun smiles at Hina and puts her hands on the ground. She lifts her bottom, lifting herself into an upright position, and slowly wobbles. Slowly, she takes a step and another. Hina looks at Daeun, saying, “Come, Da-Da.” Daeun smiles and waddles faster to Hina, hugging her.

‘Oh my god, Daeun. You can walk.” You pick her up and give her a big kiss. Dahyun, sitting on the couch, says, “She has been standing a lot recently. These past few days, Hina has been encouraging her a lot. Out of nowhere, she just started walking.”

Daeun smiles, and you look back at Hina, “Is that true? Have you been helping your baby sister?”

Hina shyly nods, “Hina help Da-Da.”

You squat and pick her help in your other arm and kiss her on the forehead, “You’re such a nice sister.”

You continue spending time with the family and enjoying seeing Daeun walk. It’s always nice catching up, even if you’ve only been out for a few days.

The day continues, and every so often, you look at your phone for any updates. The situation in Wuhan is worsening as reports of a city-wide lockdown are imminent. You go to your office and watch a video of a Korean-Australian visiting the city for the holidays. After hearing about the potential lockdown, he decided to leave the city, and all public transportation has been halted. Flights have been canceled, and bus stations and trains have been blocked by military personnel.

People have begun to panic as the military started taking charge of the city. News networks estimate that about eleven million people are stuck with no way out.

Seeing this makes you realize the possibility of it reaching Korea as many visit China during the Chinese New Year. “It’s not a matter of if, but when it comes to Korea.”

You have a restless night; you’re worried about the situation and continue to wake up in the middle of the night. Multiple notifications go off from your phone. You see a report of SARS_CoV2 being detected in the United States and the first South Korean national being infected after working in Wuhan.

The day goes by without interruption; there’s not much news about the first infected person. Most people assume that everything is under control with the Chinese government locking down Wuhan.

You talk to a few friends from abroad and discuss the situation. One mentions that the virus was manufactured and meant to be used as a weapon. Another mentions that the government will try to downplay the situation and say everything is under control, but that’s only to prevent panic.

Each has their own theories on how the virus came to be and how it began to spread. You hope it’s something small and can easily be contained, but understand that it might become serious at any point.

Out of nowhere, someone mentions, “Hey, it might not be a bad idea to start stocking up on things; you never know.”

The rest of you laugh and make slight jokes about him being a survivalist or doomsday prepper. You, on the other hand, don’t think it’s a bad idea. “Hey guys, he might be right. People are going to start panicking if it does reach us. Not sure about you guys, but I’m the closest one to China, so I might buy some necessities, it won’t hurt.”

Your American friend says, ”Okay, okay, he has a point.” You all continue to talk for a bit more. One by one, your friends exit the chat, leaving only your American friend. “Hey, before you hang up, let me tell you something.”

”What is it?”

”Remember what our business professor said about following the money?”

”Yeah, I remember.”

”I don’t think this virus thing will be too bad, but if it does, just look at the stock market. You’ll know when shit hits the bricks if the markets start acting up. I suggest you look at the pharmaceutical companies.”

”Haha. That’s exactly what my broker said.”

”Hey, the money never lies.”

———

Weeks pass by, and not much occurs in terms of the virus. Most people continue to live their lives. There are a few cases here and there, but nothing major. The lockdown in Wuhan continues as the government tries to keep the virus from spreading.

People have begun to relax after no significant outbreaks and Korean citizens who came from China are closely monitored. Everything seemed well, and life continued normally. You and Dahyun celebrated Da-eun’s first birthday with a big party, as well as Jihyo’s 23rd birthday.

The members even had their concerts in Japan as scheduled, which was surprising. At one point, you laughed at yourself, thinking of when you purchased enough food and supplies to fill an entire room and prepare for the end of the world.

——

That all changed on February 23rd, 2020, when the virus mutated. Italy became the first country to be affected, and martial law was immediately implemented. Thousands of people were caught ill and many of them were hospitalized, never to be seen again. Italy was a popular destination spot for the elderly to retire and spend their golden years peacefully. Instead, the whole country closed, separating itself from its neighbors.

A few days earlier, the virus was given the official name COVID-19, also known as SARS-CoV-2, by the World Health Organization. After studying its strain, they thought the virus would be manageable and even developed a way to fight it. Instead, the virus mutated, adapting to the medicines given.

The name COVID-19 began spreading through multiple news outlets, reporting on third-world countries and the sudden mutation of the virus. Many of those countries had a sizeable elderly population or an unreliable health care system.

Back home, the streets of Daegu were empty as a result of a large gathering of churchgoers. Seventy new cases and the first death in Korea. Many people became scared, assuming that the virus would not spread due to the low numbers during these past few weeks.

In the following days, the number of cases skyrocketed, with 1,261 positive cases out of the 9,336 people tested from the mass gathering: many more dead, mainly those with low immune systems and old age.

Many entertainment agencies began to announce cancellations for their idols. JYP postponed any activities until further notice and ensured that the safety of their idols was their priority.

The members gather in the living room, watching the news as they see the chaos in Italy and Korea. The new anchors recommend, “Due to the sudden spike of infections, we suggest that the elderly, people who are immunocompromised, and those who are pregnant remain indoors for your safety. Only essential personnel…” You grab the remote and turn off the television.

”Girls, I have some news. JYP postponed all activities and suggested that we stay here until further notice. We have enough food and supplies, so we should be okay.”

”What about our parents?” You turn around and see the worried faces of the members.

”Let’s try to relax and get in touch with them. Tell them that we’re all okay and to remain indoors.”

The members agree and call their parents. Most of them respond by reassuring them that they’ll stay indoors.

“Oppa, I can’t get a hold of my parents.” You see Tzuyu’s worried expression.

You hug Tzuyu and reassure her that everything is going to be okay. “They are going to be fine. I’m sure they are together and healthy. Let’s call them again in a few hours.”

”Oppa, I’m scared.”

Sana begins to cry. You hug her as well, “Don’t worry, I’ll make sure that you all are safe. I won’t let anything happen to you.”

”But what if it gets worse? What if many more people start to die? I still haven’t told my parents that they are going to be grandparents yet.”

“What… What did you say?”

Sana looks down and places her hand on her stomach, “I just found out a few days ago I’m pregnant.”

“What, when, how?”

”I wanted to tell you, but with this situation going on, I couldn’t find the right time.”

You hug Sana, “Oh my god, are you sure?”

Sana nods, “Yeah, I took my tests, and they all came positive.”

”That’s amazing; oh my god, I’m going be a dad again, haha.” You pick Sana up from her feet and spin her around. Sana giggles, happy from your reaction.

You squat down, look at the kids, and say, “You’re all going to be big sisters. One more to the family.”

“Umm… Oppa… make that two more.”

You look up and see Momo holding her stomach. “It’s not just Sana; I’m pregnant too.”

“Wait… what?” You lose your balance as you try to get up. You see shining lights as you feel slightly lightheaded. “Two? Two more?”

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vitalverstappen · 17 days ago

Text

Ten Years - M. Verstappen

summary: years apart may not erase memories. time spent in a gymnasium you once knew like the back of your hand makes you wonder if the life you built without Max is really the one you want

pairing: Max Verstappen x former high school sweetheart!reader

warnings: none

word count: 3.3k

masterlist

The hallway buzzed with the typical chatter of students in the last week before summer break. Lockers slammed, and the smell of the cafeteria food mixed with the faint scent of freshly sharpened pencils. It was the last class of the day, and you and Max were standing by the lockers, your fingers intertwined, lost in a world of inside jokes and whispered promises.

Max’s hand was warm in yours, his thumb gently traced the back of your knuckles. The familiar motion made your heart race, in that easy, natural way it always had when he touched you. His touch always felt like home - soft and tender, full of secrets shared and memories yet to be made.

You could almost hear the promise in his touch - the one that said no matter what came next, you’d always be intertwined with each other. Neither of you knew exactly what the future held after graduation. Max had dreams of racing professionally, while you were preparing to move across the country for college, majoring in marketing. There were so many unknowns ahead of both of you, but standing there, side by side, everything felt as if it could last forever.

“I wish we didn’t have to leave,” Max whispered, his voice tinged with that familiar sadness you both had learned to bury behind smiles and laughter.

You squeezed his hand, offering him a soft smile, the kind that always had been your silent promise to him. “We’ll figure it out. Whatever happens, we’ll be okay. I know we will.”

Max didn’t reply, but his gaze softened to match yours. In that moment, everything felt simple again. It was just the two of you, standing in the chaos of the hallway, as the world outside rushed forward.

But that was ten years ago.

Like most high school sweethearts, once graduation ended, so did your relationship. When the dog days of summer arrived, Max packed up and left, chasing after his dream of being a Formula 1 driver. And when the leaves slowly began changing colors again, you moved to college, pursuing dreams of your own.

Max’s departure had been sudden, unexpected, but it was never a dramatic breakup. No tears, no fights. Just two young adults starting on separate journeys, hoping to keep their connection alive, but knowing deep down that distance often meant goodbye. You both tried to stay in touch for a while - sporadic texts, late-night phone calls - but the inevitable happened. The messages grew less frequent, then disappeared altogether.

You heard about him now and then through mutual friends and social media posts. He’d made a name for himself, climbing the ranks in the world of motorsport, just like he’d always dreamed. You went on with your life too. Relationships came and went. Jobs, opportunities, and travels filled the space he had once occupied. But still, every now and then, when you passed a familiar street corner or saw a race on TV, you’d catch a brief, wistful thought of Max.

Then, out of nowhere, you got an invitation to your ten-year high school reunion. The email landed in your inbox one evening, its subject line a reminder of the past: Class of 2015 - It’s time to reconnect! You hesitated, stared at the screen, ultimately ending up with Why not? A chance to see old friends, a chance to catch up with people you’d long lost touch with.

And that’s how you found yourself standing outside of the old gymnasium, just like you had a decade ago. Through the window on the door, you could tell that the gym looked pretty much the same. Old bleachers, dim lights, the smell of dust and nostalgia hung in the air. You could almost feel the echo of music from prom night, the laughter of friends you hadn’t seen in years. The nerves were there, but laced with an odd sense of comfort.

You took a deep breath and pushed open the heavy gym doors, stepping inside. The familiar scent of worn out basketball floors and faint hints of stale perfume hit you. The space hadn’t changed very much, save for the new banners that now hung from the rafters. The dim lights flickered above slightly, just like they had during school dances and pep rallies. The whole place felt like a time capsule, preserving the memories of a life you once lived.

People were gathered in small clusters, some chatting excitedly, others standing quietly as they scanned the room, perhaps wondering the same thing you were: Where do we fit into all of this?

Your eyes swept the room. There were familiar faces, ones that had become distant over the years, their names and stories drifting further away in the tide of time. You smiled at a few people, exchanged pleasantries and small talk about what they were up to now.

It only took a few minutes, but your friend group from high school quickly found you. They arrived in a small wave, the laughter and chatter of old friends filling the space between you. Casey, the loudest, was the first to reach you, pulling you into a tight hug that felt like no time had passed at all.

“You made it!” She exclaimed, stepping back with a bright grin. Her eyes were the same, but there was something different in the way she carried herself now - more confident, perhaps. Life had moved on, but somehow she still felt like the same friend you’d sneak out of the house to go drive around the countryside with.

“Of course,” you said, laughing “I wouldn’t miss it.”

Behind Casey, Ben and Laura appeared, both of them with their own smiles, more reserved but just as warm. They hadn’t changed much either, though you could tell Ben had filled out a bit since the days he’d been known for his soccer prowess. Laura was just as sarcastic as ever, though her eyes carried that hint of wisdom only time could bring.

“It’s good to see you,” Laura said, her voice smooth and familiar. “I thought you’d gotten too fancy for us.”

Though you had moved to the city since you last saw the group, you knew they had a part of you that you couldn’t leave behind.

“I could never,” you replied with a wink. “You guys have too many embarrassing stories.”

Everyone laughed, and for a moment, the years seemed to melt away. You weren’t in your twenties with a big girl job worrying about bills and current events. You were eighteen again, laughing with your best friends, all hoping to be on the same team for dodgeball. The same friends who shared everything - the triumphs, the failures, the moments that felt so big at the time, and now seemed smaller but no less important.

For a while, the four of you wandered through the crowd, catching up on what had happened since graduation. Careers, relationships, moves, travels. All the things that had shaped you into the people you were now. Yet, amidst all the changes, it was clear you had all retained something - the same connection you’d once shared in those carefree years of high school.

But even as the laughter and conversion flowed easily, there was an unspoken feeling, a lingering tension in the back of your mind, because you couldn’t stop thinking about him.

It was silly to think that he would be here. It was the middle of the Formula 1 season after all. He was definitely focused more on winning another championship than reconnecting with people he hadn’t seen in a decade.

But no matter how much you told yourself to let it go, the thought of Max lingered, like an itch you couldn’t quite scratch. You could feel your eyes wandering to the door each time it creaked open, half expecting to see him walking through with that confident, easygoing smile. But each time, there was a tinge of disappointment in your heart.

You told yourself to stop. There was no point in hoping for something that was never meant to be. Max had a life now, one that was worlds apart from the one both of you had left behind in that small town. The chances of him showing up was slim to none.

It was a mixture of silly hope and longing for something you knew was gone, something you know had slipped away with the passing of time. You didn’t regret the time you had with Max, but you also knew that life had moved on for both of you.

“You okay?” Casey asked, pulling you from your thoughts. She stood beside you, her expression soft with concern.

You forced a smile, trying to hide the thoughts racing in your mind. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

“About him?” she questioned. She didn’t need to say his name for you to know who she was talking about.

You bit your lip, not sure what to say. It wasn’t like you were expecting Max to walk in and sweep you off your feet. You’d grown up, you’d moved on. But there was still a small part of you that wondered what would happen if you saw him again. If there was still something left between you, or if you’d just become a memory to him.

“Just a little,” you admitted, your voice quieter than you intended.

Casey nodded, her gaze thoughtful. “I get it. I mean, you guys were the perfect high school couple. It’s hard not to wonder what might’ve been.”

You glanced at her, surprised by the understanding in her voice. “It’s been a long time though, Case. He’s got his life, I’ve got mine. We’re not… that anymore.”

She gave a small shrug, the kind that meant I know, but there was still a flicker of something in her eyes. “Maybe. But who knows? Life is weird like that.”

You gave her a defeated shrug, unsure of what to say in response, so you excused yourself to the refreshment table.

As you walked away, the sound of laughter and chatter faded into the background, leaving you alone with your swirling thoughts. Your eyes pretended to scan to the spread of snacks and drinks, but your mind was somewhere else.

You caught a glimpse of the punch bowl and grabbed a plastic cup before reaching for the ladle absentmindedly. But your hand didn’t touch the cool plastic serving spoon that rested in the bowl. It brushed something warmer, something familiar.

Your breath hitched as you slowly withdrew your hand, feeling the electric pulse of recognition. Your heart skipped a beat, and the world seemed to still for a moment.

You didn’t have to look up to know who was standing beside you. The warmth of his presence was unmistakable, just like it had always been.

Max.

You blinked, your pulse hammering in your ears, but when you finally gathered the courage to meet his gaze, his eyes were just as you remembered - intense, yet soft, a mix of hesitation and familiarity. His smile was tentative, like he wasn’t sure how to bridge the gap between who you were and who you had become. But there was warmth in there too, the same kind of warmth that had always drawn you to him.

“Hey,” he said, his voice low, like he was testing the waters to see if you were ready for this. His gaze flickered between your eyes, your lips, looking for some sign of recognition or acceptance. His nervousness was almost endearing, reminding you of the first time he had looked at you like this.

You swallowed hard, trying to steady your breathing. Your mind was doing laps while your heart pounded out of your chest, but you managed a small smile in return.

“Max,” you breathed, his name feeling foreign and familiar all at once.

There was a pause, an awkward silence stretched between you two. He glanced around briefly, like he was wondering where to go from here then slowly shifted his weight, inching a little closer.

You couldn’t help but feel a rush of emotions surge through you, a mix of nostalgia, surprise and uncertainty. It felt like the clock had rewound to those carefree days when everything had seemed possible and your world revolved around him, but mixed with the maturity that only came with age.

Max cleared his throat, his voice less steady than usual. “I didn’t think you’d actually come.”

A soft laugh escaped your lips. “I almost didn’t,” you admitted, glancing around the gym. It felt surreal to be back there, especially with him standing so close. “But I figured, why not? It’s been ten years.”

Max’s gaze softened, and there was a flicker of something unspoken between you two, a reminder of everything you once shared. “Yeah, ten years…” he muttered, trailing off as he glanced down at the floor before looking back at you. “It’s crazy how much can change in that time.”

“Yeah it is,” you said, your voice quieter now, unsure of what to say next. It had been a long time, after all. You both changed so much. Your life was different. His life, from what you knew, had become a whirlwind of speed and competition.

You fiddled with the empty cup in your hands, trying to keep your composure, but the weight of those years between you hung heavily in the air. “How’ve you been?” you finally asked, hoping to break the silence.

Max hesitated, his hand running through his hair in the way he used to when he was nervous. “I’ve been good. Busy,” he said, a little smile tugging at his lips. “I’m still doing the racing thing. It’s… everything I’ve wanted. But, uh, it’s also a lot more than I expected.”

You nodded. “I can imagine.”

There was another pause, the kind that stretched out too long, making you feel like there were too many things left unsaid. Max was still looking at you, his eyes like a puzzle you weren’t sure how to solve.

“I’ve seen a lot on social media,” you added, trying to fill the gap. “It’s incredible, everything you’ve achieved.”

His smile widened, though there was a hint of shyness to it. “I didn’t expect to make it this far. But it feels good, you know?”

“I can only imagine,” you repeated, this time with a slight laugh. Making light of the situation was much harder with your heart beating faster with every passing second.

Max’s smile faltered for a second before speaking again. “And you? How’s everything?”

You bit your lip, unsure of what to say. So much had changed. You’d made a life for yourself, one that didn’t involve him anymore. “It’s good. I’m in marketing now. Moved to the city. Things have been busy, but, uh, it’s going well.”

Max nodded thoughtfully. “I’m glad to hear that.”

He shifted slightly as both of you took a step back from the punch bowl as the awkwardness of the moment settled in a little more. There was so much to say, so many things you’d both been through, but neither of you seemed ready to dive into it just yet.

His eyes flickered around the gym for the second time, scanning around the room before landing back on you. All of you. “You look great,” he said, his voice soft but genuine. The compliment, simple as it was, caused your heart to flutter, reminding you of the years when those words had felt like second nature between you.

You felt a blush creeping up on your cheeks. “Thanks,” you replied as you took in the sight of him again. “So do you.”

The smile on your face lingered, a little unsure but real nonetheless. The air between you was charged, yet it felt oddly comfortable. Maybe it was the years of shared memories that created a sense of connection. Or maybe it was just the strange familiarity of a time long gone but never completely erased.

“So, uh,” Max began, breaking the silence that had stretched a little too long again. “You’ve got this whole city life now, huh?”

You nodded slowly, your gaze flickering to the crowd, half lost in the movement of people talking and laughing around you. “Yeah, I moved to Amsterdam after university. It’s…different,” you said, trying to find the right words. “I wasn’t really sure how it would feel at first, but it’s been good.”

Max nodded, his expression thoughtful. “I bet it’s a big change. You’ve always been someone who could take on anything, though.” There was an admiration in his voice, and the sincerity behind it made your chest tighten.

“Yeah, well,” you chuckled, “there were moments when I wasn’t so sure.” You glanced at him, feeling the weight of the words, as though the two of you shared something unspoken in those quiet moments. “But I’ve learned a lot.”

Max took a deep breath, as though preparing for something. “It’s good to see you again,” he said, and his town was more serious now, almost tentative. “I didn’t know if I’d ever have the chance to say that.”

You looked at him, really looked at him, and for a moment, it was as though the years slipped away. The old familiarity crept back in, but it didn’t completely feel like the same person you had once known - it was a version of him shaped by all he had accomplished. He still had the same dirty blonde hair and lisp, but he was now a Max who had become something bigger than the boy you once held hands with in the hallway.

“It’s good to see you too,” you replied softly. “I’ve missed you.”

The words came out before you could stop them, a quiet confession that felt like the truth, even if it wasn’t entirely what either of you were ready to confront just yet.

Max’s eyes somehow softened even more as if the weight of that admission caught him off guard. “I missed you too,” he whispered, his voice barely audible over the background noise of the gym.

For a moment, neither of you said anything. It wasn’t awkward or comfortable, it just was. The pull of the past was undeniable, and yet the present was there too, a reminder of everything that had changed.

Max shifted his weight, looking at you with a mixture of uncertainty and something else. “I don’t know what happens next,” he said, his voice still low, as though trying to find the right words. “But it’s… nice, seeing you like this. Seeing you happy.”

You smiled again, even though the words tangled in your chest, unsure of where this moment would lead. “I am happy,” you said. “I think we both are, in a way.”

His eyes met yours, searching for some sort of clue about what the reunion meant. The air between you crackled with possibilities, and yet, neither of you seemed ready to claim them.

“Well,” Max finally said, “I should probably let you get back to your friends.”

You nodded, suddenly feeling the pull of the crowd, the tug of reality. “Yeah, I should,” you agreed softly. But you didn’t move, not right away. Neither of you did.

Max took a slow step back, offering you a hesitant smile. “Take care of yourself, okay?”

“You too,” you responded, though the words didn’t feel enough. Not for this. Not for everything that had been and everything that could have been.

With that, he turned, slowly retreating back into the crowd. You stood there for a few moments longer, watching him disappear, the knot in your chest tightening once more. The feeling of his presence still lingered in the air, and despite the years, despite the changes, there was a part of you that still carried a piece of him.

And as the night wore on, the gym buzzed with the laughter, memories, and the passing of time. But somewhere, amidst all the noise and familiarity, something had shifted. You weren’t sure where it would go, but for the first time in a long while, you wondered if maybe the past had something more to offer.

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huntfordaybreak · 3 months ago

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love languages with skz 💕

part 1 - quality time

hyung line - maknae line

warnings: none! tooth-rotting fluff

a/n: the art markets in Montmartre and Hamdeok Beach are real places you can, in fact, go to. these entries end up bleeding into some of the other four languages as well of course, but such is the nature of love (´▽`ʃ♡ƪ)

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 .✦

bang chan

The balmy summer air was not making it any easier to stop yourself from peering stealthily at Chan in the driver’s seat of your rental convertible, wearing a casual outfit of a half-buttoned linen shirt and swimming trunks. He was drumming his fingers on the steering wheel to the music playing from the speakers as the car slowly moved up to the north side of Jeju Island.

You had made plans a long time ago to spend a weekend away together, and given Chan’s love for the ocean, you had agreed to go for a beach trip. So you found yourself parking right by Hamdeok Beach, which was proving to meet your (high) expectations – clear water, blue skies, small waves brushing up against the shore. It was stunning.

Before you had taken it all in properly, Chan had already set up a parasol and was currently fighting to put down a large beach towel against the wind. You rushed over to help him with the towel and looked for your phone to take some pictures.

After a few obligatory landscape photos, Chan came up behind you and offered to take some of you (“to send to your mom, she kept saying the other week you aren’t getting enough sun”). He was grinning behind the phone camera as you posed in a flowy sundress, squinting slightly in the bright light.

“Looking great, angel,” he called, and you walked back to him, your flip flops digging up the fine sand with each step.

“Don’t you want to take some with your phone as well?,” you asked, smiling at the photos Chan had taken. He was a pretty gifted photographer, but the scenery was definitely adding to the pictures.

“I’m alright, I don’t have my phone on me, actually,” he said, already digging for sunscreen in your bag.

You frowned, surprised. Chan was usually the first to admit he was a workaholic and it was pretty rare for him to be anywhere without his phone, if not an entire travel-friendly recording setup. “Really? You left it at home? What if there’s an --”

“I’ve left Changbin and the staff with very clear instructions that I won’t be reachable for any reason this weekend,” he interrupted you lightly, sunscreen now in hand. “They can handle it.”

You joined him underneath the parasol, feeling rather touched. “And you’re fine with that?” you asked softly. “I mean, I really appreciate it, but I don’t want you to feel restless or uncomfortable or something while we’re here.”

He seated himself a little closer to you, shaking his head, though there was no heat behind it. “Please, (Y/N), I’m more than fine with it. I’m very thankful to have this time with you and want to enjoy it as much as I can before we go back on Sunday,” he said, gently pushing some of your hair out of your face. “Now, let’s get some sun protection on that cute face of yours before we both burn to a crisp.”

lee know

“Yes, by end of day, please. Yeah. Yes, thank you.”

You sighed, hanging up the call.

Today was not your day.

You had gotten a run in your tights on your way to work basically as soon as you stepped out of the subway, spent all morning in back-to-back meetings that should have been emails, and had been forced to skip your lunch break to rectify a mistake a coworker had made in a report you were signing off on. And now, you had found out right before you were about to head home that you were missing signatures on an important budget proposal.

Normally you wouldn’t really mind too much, but you wanted to leave early today since you were supposed to meet up with Minho right after work. You anxiously eyed the clock as you waited for the necessary emails to come in.

By the time you wrapped up for the day, you had already sent an apologetic running-late-text to Minho and scored another run in your tights as you speed-walked through the subway station.

As soon as you walked into the hallway of your apartment building, you heard music playing faintly – it seemed like it was coming from behind your door. You were supposed to meet up at Minho’s place and go out for dinner, but you figured you had enough time to at least touch up your makeup and find some new tights to wear. Maybe he had gotten impatient in the extra time you had taken.

You unlocked the door and stopped in your tracks. Not only were you right – Minho was standing in the kitchen, back turned towards you – but he had probably arrived at your apartment before you had even sent your last text. He was in the middle of stirring a pot, a cutting board with chopped green onions beside him. The smell of seafood stew was immediate and comforting.

“Minho, you’re here? I thought you wanted to go out?” you asked, kicking off your heels and leaning over to him by the stove, kissing him on the cheek.

He turned to kiss you properly, murmuring a greeting, and raised an eyebrow at you. “I figured you probably weren’t feeling up for heading out again when you told me earlier about the day you were having. So I thought we would do dinner here instead.”

Your heart ached with affection, not only at the thoughtfulness, but also at the familiarity he showed with your living space – he knew where you kept your vegetable peeler, where the clean dish towels were. “You know me too well, you know.”

He smirked. “It’s part of my job description. Go get changed, dinner’s almost ready.”

Soon enough, you were sitting at your dinner table in sweatpants, one leg tucked under your body as you took a careful bite of the piping hot stew. You let out an appreciative noise; Minho knew exactly how spicy you liked your food.

With him sitting across from you barefaced in a T-shirt, you knew then that no restaurant could really come close to replicating this feeling of home.

changbin

People would have to pay you a considerable amount of money to go the gym with Changbin. You didn’t hate working out, and you certainly didn’t hate spending time with your boyfriend. However, as you explained to him, it was healthy and more sustainable for couples to do some activities separately, and you were happy to try out the odd group class on your own from time to time. It was also, as you muttered, really hard to stay focused on your own exercises when Changbin was working out within your immediate vicinity while wearing a compression shirt. This explanation usually satisfied him, you found, a wicked little smile appearing on his face.

One part of his routine that you would more readily agree to was visiting a sauna afterwards. Changbin usually made a wise comment about the importance of recovery here, but you did not need much convincing to get a massage or soak in a near-boiling pool for a while.

Today was one of those days; Changbin had picked you up from work and you had gone to a spa you both liked together. You were happily submerging yourself in the hot water, steam rising in the darkening sky. Changbin also sank in the water next to you, squeaking at the difference in temperature from the cool outside air.

“How was your day, baby?,” you asked, sidling up to him.

He closed his eyes, leaning his head back. “Good. Busy, though. Didn’t have time to text you,” he said, pouting.

You laughed and splashed some water on him. “Don’t be stupid. I won’t wilt like a dying flower without it. I’m happy to see you now,” you smiled.

Some of the cloudiness remained in his face, and you moved to gently push at the tense muscles in his shoulders. “I don’t want you to feel like I don’t have time for you. Like you’re not as important as other parts of my life,” he said quietly.

You moved away from the seating edge of the pool and got in front of him, both of you up to your shoulders in the water.

Looking at him more seriously now, you said: “Bin, if I do somehow ever end up feeling like that, I will tell you. I trust you to do the same. I think you’re being too hard on yourself right now.”

A smile came back to Changbin’s face as he pulled you back to him, back to his firm chest. He placed a kiss on the top of your head. “Thank you, sweetheart,” he muttered. “And thank you for coming here with me.”

“You say that like it’s a sacrifice on my end,” you shot back.

He laughed, and you felt it reverberate in you against your back, a sound of not just amusement, but real tenderness.

hyunjin

Sometimes, you weren't sure how this had ended up being your life.

You were waiting for Hyunjin to finish up in the enormous bathroom in your suite at the Relais Christine, it being your final day in Paris to accompany him to a Cartier shoot on location. Although the trip had been amazing – great food, the weather had been cold but sunny, you’d convinced Hyunjin to ask the brand reps for an extra set of PR goodies for you to steal – you were both tired, worn out from the packed schedule.

Today was your last day in Paris, though; you were catching a flight so early tomorrow morning that it should be illegal. You had been racking your brain for something to do together, a museum he had not been to yet, a gallery that he wouldn’t already know. Would he think it’s corny to go on one of those boat tours?

You shook your head to yourself, starting to pack a few essentials to take on your outing. Before long, Hyunjin emerged from the bathroom, free of make-up but looking as statuesque as he had during the shoot, and he seemed excited for a last outing. “You ready for a last hurrah, baby?” he said, grinning widely.

It was a nice day to be out, at least, you thought as you walked to Montmartre together. It was incredibly busy, and you stuck close to Hyunjin, his face half-covered by a (hilariously) large pair of sunglasses and hair unstyled. He was nothing if not used to navigating crowds, though, and he easily weaved through the throngs of tourists to grab sandwiches that you split, sitting on a bench covered in stickers.

Finally, something caught your eye as you looped back around to the main square: a side of the street full of stalls displaying artworks, mostly paintings.

“Hyunjin, look,” you tugged on his sleeve, “there’s the artist market that they were talking about in the guidebook!”

His eyes shone with interest as you got closer, even though your head was spinning slightly from the sheer variety of art to look at. From soft watercolors of flowers to realistic portraits of elderly people in a park or abstract prints, there was no shortage of things you could see yourself putting up in your apartment.

Suddenly, the gears in your head started turning. “Hyunjin, wait, I wanna split up.”

He wheeled around abruptly. “God, (Y/N), please don’t scare me like that,” he whined, clutching at his chest dramatically.

Suppressing a laugh, you continued: “How about we each start at one end and pick out one painting for each other? We’ve been looking for something to put in the hallway by the bathroom for ages.”

Hyunjin smiled. “What’s the budget?”

“How about 25 euros each, Mr. Cartier,” you rolled your eyes affectionately, squeezing his hand.

He squeezed yours in return and practically ran off to the opposite end of the market.

---

A month later, a watercolor of apple blossoms and a tiny ink drawing of the Seine in the morning sun hung proudly in your hallway, with a slightly blurry Polaroid of the two of you in front of the Sacre Coeur taped to the frame.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 .✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦. 　⁺ 　 .✦

@ huntfordaybreak - do not repost.

if you are interested in being on a taglist for the other installations of this series, feel free to let me know!

#skz x reader #skz scenarios #skz imagines #skz fluff #skz x you #bang chan x reader #lee know x reader #changbin x reader #hyunjin x reader #wahh my first post here!#dawn writes

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phantomsofmyformerself · 7 months ago

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modern day claudia headcanons

mostly wears clothes made by madeleine. has quite a business casual/old money aesthetic. always looks put together and fashionable. she makes a point to never wear any purple once lestat began to market his band with purple.

she travels the world with madeleine, occasionally selling pieces or writing (of her travels, opinion pieces, etc.) to newspapers whilst madeleine still makes dresses. although they do travel all the time, they always find themselves staying in new york for a few years every so often as they both enjoy it there and find the killing fairly easy.

she visits louis often and only tends to visit lestat when him and louis are on again. this does not stop lestat from sending her badly spelled letters and samples of his music and reading every single piece of writing she gets published (as does louis of course). louis introduces claudia to daniel one time and they hit it off (although claudia does think daniel has terrible taste in men), both calling each other up just to gossip or congratulate each other on a new piece of writing. also ik this is amc claudia so show fans might not know gabrielle, but i have to say gabrielle meets claudia and they love each other. the man-hating grandparent and daughter duo.

middle aged people always ask claudia questions about technology when they're struggling with something but she knows absolutely nothing. she'd own a phone purely to message louis and because a lot of newspapers only communicate via email. she also plays words with friends with daniel, louis, and lestat (she only agreed to with lestat because she always wins). she still writes with paper and a pencil and finds it absurd not to. madeleine also isn't too tech savvy but she understands it more that claudia so has to show claudia how to put her phone on silent and go off selfie mode.

claudia is also the biggest fan of first kill and was planning to eat the people who cancelled the show after one season until madeleine stopped her.

#the vampire claudia #claudia eparvier #modern day vampire claudia #iwtv #interview with the vampire #amc iwtv #claudia de pointe du lac #claudia de lioncourt #claudeleine #amc interview with the vampire

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jackiepackiee · 11 months ago

Note

Hear me out. What if one day Chuuya finds out that the reader was also experimented on.

TW:scars, leaked information, trauma

Chuuyax reader

𝒞𝒽𝓊𝓊𝓎𝒶 𝓍 𝐸𝓍𝓅𝑒𝓇𝒾𝓂𝑒𝓃𝓉𝑒𝒹! 𝑅𝑒𝒶𝒹𝑒𝓇

𝒲𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈 - 𝓁𝒶𝒷 𝒶𝒷��𝓈𝑒

𝒯𝓎𝓅𝑒 - 𝒽𝑒𝒶𝒹𝒸𝒶𝓃𝑜𝓃𝓈 𝒶𝓃𝒹 𝒹𝒾𝒶𝓁𝑜𝑔𝓊𝑒

Chuuya is DEVASTATED

How come his sweet and gentle lover has been hurt

He would take every ounce of pain from you into himself if given the chance

And his initial reaction, however he found out, will be hard to stomach

He’s in shock

“No… no no that’s not true. You had that good childhood, and you’ve been treated good by everyone. Just like you deserve, right? Right?”

Wide eyes traveled the room mindlessly. His brain was too occupied by thoughts to see anything beyond patches of color and light.

It was obvious what was going on in his head.

First, his experience. What he knows of the pain that still cause shakes and shivers in his body. The absolute mental devastation caused by the storm in his heart and mind from knowing his past.

Secondly, he sees you in the same position. Screaming, blood over your plush skin. Eyes dazed, far away from the world around you. Whatever world you may have been in that allowed you to be treated so poorly. Because if you had gotten hurt, it must’ve been a world Chuuya wasn’t part of.

“Right?”

“I’m sorry…”

“Sorry? No, fuck. Don’t be sorry, don’t you dare say that.”

In a split second he crossed the distance and pulled you into his chest.

“I’ll kill them all.”

Of course he would lie down his life for you, but this information increases that tenfold

You’re not fragile, that much is obvious, but after learning how close you were to death he strives for your life

Whatever it takes

“Chuuya, I do not need a bodyguard. It’s just down the block! And this boy needs a walk anyways!”

The dog barked in agreement, sorta. But Chuuya would not budge. No puppy eyes work on him when it comes to your safety.

“No. You can talk him on the walk, and go to the market. But one of my subordinates is going with you. I have some emails to write.”

“But!”

“No buts, love. It’s for your own good.”

He pet the doggies head while speaking sternly to you. Little did you know, it wasn’t just one subordinate. He had a whole team on your saftey detail at all times outside of work and home.

And if those scientists are still alive?

Not anymore… it will be a MASSACRE that the news will cover for months

“Hey baby, did you see the news this morning?”

You asked, on a whim as you scribbled a shitty signature on some paperwork.

“No, why?”

“Some old facilities blew up. It was crazy. Reports said none of the victims died in the explosion. They all died by these terrible and violent ways. Like torture and stuff… gives me the chills.”

That was his cause, you. The cute way you told him about every little thing you heard. The funny actions you do to make show of your words.

All his to watch, and not theirs to ruin.

“No baby, I didn’t hear about that. How interesting.”

I hate to bring it up, but it makes him feel worse about himself

How can you, someone who went through the same as him, still be so kind?

Why isn’t he like you?

He doesn’t see himself as sweet or gentle, he’s a monster and a threat to everyone he loves

And he thinks he lacks the humanity that you “still have” that allowed you to grow so kind

You stalked into the bedroom, tense at the fact that the door was closed. He usually would leave it open?

“Chuu? I saw your shoes at the door, I know you’re home-”

There he was, his ginger hair on full display. Hat in his hands to his chest. Said chest on his knees, curled into a ball of black clothing.

His torso expanded and contracted with each exchange of air.

“…was it work? Meetings with Mori su-”

Words failed. Minuscule things such as meetings at work would cause this. Would cause Chuuya Nakahara to cry.

“You weren’t supposed to be home.”

“…what?”

“You weren’t supposed to be home. I was supposed to be alone, and… and I- I dunno.”

Whines left his mouth when you kissed his cheek.

As if Judas to Jesus, he burned at your affection. Unworthy of something so…human.

“What did I do to deserve you?”

“Living, and loving. That’s what you’ve done.”

This isnt meant to be spicy, but sex is sex 🤷🏻‍♀️

And obviously if you’re going to be doing that, he’ll see your scars

For a couple who both has their fair share of scars, this likely isn’t the way the experiments were revealed

It takes a hell of a lot of trust to show yourself so vulnerable to anyone

But he loves each indent

He sees not the pain, but the growth then on

When you cuddle, he’ll get dazed and start rubbing circles on section of skin

Doesn’t mind them at all, even if they are dark and large

He has the same, and is no hypocrite

Not proofread lol

#bsd x reader #chuuya nakahara x reader #chuuya x reader #bsd chuuya #bsd fanfic #chuuya nakahara #chuuya x fem!reader #chuuya x you

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femmefatalevibe · 2 years ago

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Femme Fatale Guide: Top Career Tips To Set Yourself Up For Success

Figure out where your skills and passions align. Then determine the lifestyle/work culture you thrive in and what sacrifices you're willing to make in your chosen career path (for some, it's always traveling/talking to people 24/7, working late hours, unpredictable/unconventional hours, potentially lower pay/less predictable income, etc.). It truly depends on your top values, your personality, and your goals/priorities in life.

First focus on getting incredibly talented at your craft. Find a mentor(s) who will push you with their feedback/suggestions. Take classes/skills courses/read books & articles to gain more applicable knowledge/hard skills. Join clubs, apply to internships, volunteer, and request informational interviews in your desired field.

Make your skills marketable. Create a professional resume and/or neat portfolio/collection of work samples. Discover and articulate your USP (that should essentially serve as the backbone of your elevator pitch). Frame your skills through a customer/business-centric lens. How does your experience/skillset solve their problems and help a company/client achieve their goals?

Build a network for yourself. Don't be shy to reach out to companies/individuals who inspire you. Speak with your secondary school teachers and professors for connections. Create peer-to-peer networks, too, so you can grow together. Be a fearless networker and connector. Help others, do favors, and make the person glad they met/hired you. Make it your objective to be memorable through your work ethic/providing high-quality work products and showing up with a motivated & overall positive attitude allows people to like and trust you with their time, clients, money, etc.

Master the art of a killer email/cold pitch. Especially in today's world, learning how to sell yourself through intriguing emails/LinkedIn messages is the key to unlocking potential success. One client or opportunity can create momentum that will be useful years down the line, too.

When in doubt, follow up – on an email, pitch, job opportunity, connection, etc.

Be ruthless and relentless with your research. For new contacts, connections, opportunities, and information to support your pitches/job interviews/networking conversations, new technologies, and trends within your field. Read everything credible you can get your hands on. Display working knowledge and practical applications of these concepts and how they can benefit the person in front of you/their business.

Create systems. For how you structure emails/pitches, conduct research, different types of workflows/ work template structures for different types of projects, time-blocking, client funnels, etc.

Get comfortable with rejection. Use it as a primer for self-reflection and refining your craft/processes or help you pivot your approach to help you achieve your goals. Never take business decisions on behalf of a company personally (and vice versa).

Give yourself breaks, but don't give up. Tapping out for good is the only surefire way to fail at an endeavor. Be flexible in your path, but zeroed in on your goal(s). Learn when to quit or pivot, and when it's time to coast or seek growth.

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drvscarlett · 10 months ago

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THE TORTURED POETS DEPARTMENT

Pierre Gasly x ex!reader

Summary: The 4 times that they break up and get back together and that 1 time they didn't.

The Tortured Drivers' Department series

A/N: im on a roll with updating the Tortured Drivers Department now that im nearly done with every reqs. I hope you enjoy this and let me know what you think or feel about this

Taglist. @tea-bobba @boiohboii @c-losur3 @haikyuen @stelena-klayley @stinkyjax @0710khj @jinimon-tr

"You're not Dylan Thomas, I'm not Patti Smith This ain't the Chelsea Hotel, we're modern idiots"

Pierre and Y/N are the type of people that is confusing to talk about. No one really knows the big deal between the two of them, are they friends or are they lovers? One minute everything is all good, they are about to go to the store and pick out rings then the next thing that you know they already broke up. What was constant was that they always find their way back to each other.

Maybe it’s the lifestyle that makes it work; Pierre is a famous F1 driver that travels the world most of the year while Y/N is a grand recluse of a writer that is trying to find her way to the market. They don’t need much time from each other, and they understand the busy structure of their work.

Maybe its also the fact that they have years of friendship backing them up that's why they were able to last long with each others antics. So, what happened to them?

The first kind of break ups were pretty silly. It was usually something that could be fixed in a matter of hours or a day being away from each other. Its something very random and weird like this.

"Wait, so you are breaking up with me because you are writing?"Pierre was confused.

Pierre had been in relationships before but he has never once heard of someone wanting to break up with him because she has to meet a certain deadline.

He felt very whiplash by the whole situation because she was just kissing him and they were cuddling in bed in the morning. Now she wants to break up with him.

"Yes Pierre, I need to be in my most heartbroken self to write my best lines"Y/N confirms.

"So does this mean that once you finish this thing you are working on then we can get back together?"Pierre clarifies.

Y/N nods as she brings out her working laptop and a notebook.

"So should I say something mean or should I just leave you be to your senses?"Pierre wondered.

"Do you really wanna break up with me so badly?"Y/N had too much of Pierre's question

Pierre raised his hands in defeat.

"Okay then lets break up"

Pierre headed straight back to his room to allow Y/N to work on her things. He chuckles at himself with the weird antics of his girlfriend, (or should he say ex girlfriend) but he busies himself with some emails that he has from work.

It took Y/N two days before she comes crawling to their shared bed. Pierre was in a sleepy state when Y/N snuggled to his arms.

"Are you done?"Pierre wondered.

"Yeah,just passed my manuscript"Y/N agrees.

"Can I call you my girlfriend again?"

II.

Qualifying was extremely difficult today with Pierre taking p15. To make matters worse there was this pressing issue that Pierre might be axed from the team. It honestly frustrated him to the point that he was only doing sim work, training, and more training.

It worries Y/N a great deal especially when Pierre seems so out of it.

"Pierre c'mon get some rest" Y/N begged.

It was already 2 in the morning and there was still a race tomorrow but he insisted on hitting the gyms to train.

"You are going to be exhausted later during the race if you keep doing this"Y/N reminds.

"I don't care, I have to work hard"

"Pierre please listen to me"

"You're the one who is not listening to me"Pierre snaps "Don't you realize that I have the possibility to lose everything that I have worked hard for if they cut me off the team."

Y/N was in shock with the sudden outburst and if Pierre was in his usual self then he would have immediately apologized for raising his tone. But Pierre was far from thinking clearly.

"Pierre that was not nice"

"Nothing is ever nice in this world"scoffs Pierre.

"Look I'm just trying to help you he-"

"You know what, why not just break up with me so I can focus on my thing without anyone nagging" Pierre suggested.

She could feel the tears prickling her eyes and threatening to fall. But her mother did not raise her cry over a stupid boy like this.

"You're really going there huh" Y/N said "See if I care"

With a slam of the door, Y/N was gone and Pierre felt even more antsy than ever. It wasn't the fact that he has a messed up weekend but he has the possibility of messing up a good relationship because of his blind rage.

In a couple of hours despite Y/N implying that she didn't care, she was at the race patiently waiting for the lights to go out. It was difficult for her to just leave Pierre especially when he is in this state of mind.

But of course, Y/N's pride was something that she holds dear that is why she didn't show up to Pierre's garage. It is kind of weird to see the crowd of yellow and black colors but Y/N was so glad that she has Isa by her side to join her during the race.

"Never gets easier to let him go for races huh"Y/N comments as she watched Isa putting on Carlos' helmet.

"Well, I'm sure he tries his best to be careful on the track" Isa smiled.

"Why aren't you giving any pre-race goodluck kisses to Pierre? He might need it" Carlos suggested.

Y/N could just roll her eyes, Pierre wasn't superstitious like that.

"Okay laugh all you want but don't make me say I told you so if he gets involved in an accident"Carlos warns.

"Don't mind Carlos, he is just joking"Isa shrugs it off.

"But Isa, its true remember when-"

"Stop stressing Y/N out Carlos, go race and be safe"

"Aye aye"

Y/N watched the playful interaction before the couple parted ways. The scene struck a chord in her heart because she knew that she could never act that way with Pierre. Their whole relationship was a secret that only the grid knows Y/N is off limits. But outside the grid, no one knows about it. Fans equate them as close friends but never more than that.

"What's on your mind honey?"Isa asked

"Nothing Isa, I'm okay"

Y/N showed a weak smile and Isa was hesitant to press things but she just let friend be.

"Look the race is starting"Y/N diverts.

The sound of the engines filled the air and off the cars go. Y/N watched as everyone gets off with a decent start, she could only hope that there was no incident today especially for Pierre's sake.

Everything happened all of a sudden as white smoke filled the air and a loud collision was heard. The cameras were quick to pan to the accident and the two girls clutched each other's hands as the smoke clears.

"It's Nico, its not Carlos" someone from the garage reassured Isa and the girl could feel a sigh of relief.

However, the same cannot be said to Y/N as the frustrated team radio of Pierre can be heard and the familiar livery was seen in the middle of the wreck.

Any amount of pride or memory of what he said last night was suddenly thrown out of the window. She just wants to know how he is or if he is safe from that tragic collision.

"Y/N, they're going to check on Nico" Isa pointed out to some Renault people "You should probably go since Pierre would be there too"

Y/N was about to deny that she didn't want to see him but Isa had a stern look on her face.

"Just go honey"

And she comes running to the medical bay to look for the injured man. She was a bit thankful that precautions have been made in this sports that allowed drivers to walk away from such accident without major damages.

Maybe, a bruised ego is their biggest worry now.

"Y/N"Pierre was confused to see her.

Maybe the damage has been far more worse than he imagined because he was now seeing things. As far as he could recall, Y/N was not around when the race started. So how is she here?

"God, you scared me P"Y/N wrapped him in a hug.

Pierre was a little bit sore from the crash but there was this instant warm feeling knowing that Y/N didn't abandon him. Even if he was really moody and too shitty, Y/N was still there for him.

He remembers how terrible it was being in that car and thinking that the last memory he shared with Y/N is a bad one. He didn't feel great at all so he held her as if its his second chance.

"I didn't mean what I said last night"Pierre whispered "I'm really sorry for hurting your feelings. I wasn't thinking straight and there is just a lot of pressure-"

"It's okay, I know Pierre"Y/N consoles "I won't be leaving you anytime soon"

A chaste kiss was shared between the two of them, a symbol that they have reunited once more.

III.

The third time they broke up was when Pierre asked her hand for marriage and she didn't say anything.

After being constantly invited to weddings, Pierre is bound to pick up some courage to ask Y/N out. He developed this dream that he wants a life with Y/N and he is ready to take it to the next level. Knowing Y/N, he picked the right size and the perfect ring. He also knows her dream proposal place which is somewhere with a view of the city.

He had everything planned out perfectly so imagine his surprise when she answers.

"Pierre, I can't do this" Y/N dropped the bomb.

"What? Why?"

Y/N felt like an extreme asshole because everything was perfect. Any girl would say yes to this prime opportunity of marrying their childhood bestfriend but Y/N sees through things.

"Pierre we aren't even official to the public and now you want to escalate it to marriage" Y/N reasons.

"So that's it, you don't want to marry me because I can't call you mine in public?"

"It's not just that" Y/N sighs "but our careers are just taking off and we haven't talked about our relationship yet and suddenly were going to go to marriage"

What Y/N saying was valid but Pierre was not listening to any of it. He felt very crushed and he could not think straight at the moment.

"Let's just break up if you can't see a future with me"

"Pierre, you know that's not what I meant"

"Then tell me how would you feel if the person you truly loved didn't want to marry you"Pierre roared.

It was a devastating scene between the two of them. How Y/N wished that she could undo what she said a few minutes ago but she knows that she only means well. A rushed marriage will also lead to rush separation and she will not put herself to that.

"Let's break up then, I think its best if we go our seperate ways for the time being"Pierre concludes.

It took them three long weeks before they got back together. It was due to an intervention by Charles that allowed them to speak again and talk their differences. Pierre has been more understanding now and heard Y/N's point out.

They got back together but it felt like there is a huge crack that took a heavy blow with their relationship.

IV.

Y/N had a terrible day at work with her manuscript being asked to be revised by her publisher. All she needs was a good rest and possibly some cuddles with Pierre. She prays as she twist the doorknob that Pierre was not in his one of his moods.

"Mon amour"Pierre called out "I was waiting for you"

Pierre can cook but it doesn't mean that he does it often. It was a good surprise for Y/N to see the dinner table set with all of her favorite dishes and an array of fresh flowers in a bouquet. She eyes the man warily as she takes a seat

"I didn't miss any important dates, didn't I?" Y/N asked.

"Is it bad that I wanted to do something special for you?"

In other days, she would want to argue about it but for today she didn't want to do any of that. She had no energy to question Pierre's weird behavior and she just wants to enjoy the dinner with him.

It was a lovely dinner but Y/N knows that Pierre was hiding something from her. As she was putting away the plates, she knew that she had to get an answer or she may fall asleep overthinking things.

"What is going on P, I'm actually scared you did something stupid that's why you are buttering me up so much"

Pierre lets out a heavy sigh, they knew each other too well that they can't really keep a secret with each other.

"My PR talked to me today and they wanted to announce a relationship to help my whole image"Pierre confesses.

Articles are very easy to miss but as a writer, Y/N knows how a different usage of an article changes the meaning of the sentence. Pierre used "a" rather than "the" which means he is not referring to their relationship.

"Who is it?"Y/N wondered

"She's a model, her name is Caterina" Pierre explained.

There was a heavy silence in the room as Y/N dried out the dishes. She knew that this was all because she was not very marketable due to her timid personality. She was not even famous for her books so that's another reason. Bottom line, they can't announce her because she seems very different from Pierre and she is not the WAG material.

"How long?"

Y/N was used to this kind of treatment. She felt like she accepted this as long as she can get to keep Pierre at the end of this whole thing. People would think she is crazy but love makes people do crazy things.

"Just 6 months and its over"Pierre answered.

It was also very difficult for Pierre's end. He have tried to lobby that he wanted to announce his relationship with Y/N but he is held by a contract. If he decides to deviate then he might lose his seat.

He knows how difficult it was to ask her for this but he had no choice.

"I'll get packing then and I'll move out in the next few days"Y/N mumbles.

Pierre stopped her for leaving and held her tightly. She instantly melts in his hold and she easily reminds herself why she puts up with all of this.

"I love you, don't you forget that"

The world moved with Caterina being announced as Pierre's girlfriend. However, they didn't know that after 6 months then Pierre is back to Y/N's arms. It was always Y/N and Pierre even if the world can't see it.

It started with a normal dinner reservation.

Y/N has been promised by Pierre that he will take her out for dinner. They both understand that the past few weeks has been tiring for the two of them with the stress of racing, writing, and personal issues. The dinner is a nice way to reconnect with each other.

However, here she was already an hour waiting for Pierre to show up.

The hour goes from two to three and by the fourth hour, she decided that she will just go home. She have felt upset with Pierre before but this was a different kind of upset. It's not something to be fixed by flowers, vacations, or any of those stupid letters he does.

She reaches their shared apartment and started packing her stuffs. Her mind was already made up and this time it was going to last. The relationship was doomed to failure anyways.

And just before she finished packing, Pierre stumbles in.

"Y/N, do you have a schedule tonight?"Pierre asked.

He was met with silence as the writer ignores him.

"Oh c'mon what did I do wrong this time?"Pierre complains "Sit and talk with me Y/N"

Pierre could only stop Y/N by bringing all her packed clothes out of her suitcase. Something that heavily irritated Y/N, which caused her to finally speak.

"Can you just let me pack in peace"Y/N begged.

"Not until you tell me what's wrong"Pierre stops "Do you have a flight somewhere? Maybe I could drive you"

"You don't have to drive me Pierre"

"Then what's going on, I arrive here and you are fuming there-"

"You made me fucking wait four hours"Y/N snapped.

Pierre racked his brains for anything that he missed and he suddenly remembered how he reserved dinner with her. He felt like all the color drained on his face.

"Don't do this, I'll make it up to you Y/N" there was a desperation in Pierre's voice.

"I can't, we can't keep doing this P"Y/N admits it "We keep on breaking up and then making up then we act like this is a healthy relationship. We can't do this"

Strong arms wrapped around Y/N's waist and she could feel the wetness on her shoulders as Pierre buried his face there. It was proving more and more difficult for Y/N to leave him.

"I have to do this P, for you and for me"she remains firm.

"Tell me you don't love me"Pierre refuses to let go.

And Y/N cannot admit that because she knows she will always love Pierre. But she was scared that in loving Pierre so much then she may not have any love left for herself. She doesn't know what to do if she loses Pierre so its best if she will be the one to let go of him first.

"I'm sorry Pierre"

With a heavy heart, she removes the him away from her. She picks up her bags and closes the door. She left without taking a look back at the man she has loved from childhood till now because she knows that the moment she sees him then all form of control she has will evaporate.

And everything was two years ago. Here is Y/N with her third best-selling novel book signing tour. Sometimes she likes to think that she lost Pierre to be able to write the books that made her extremely famous. Most of the times, she wishes it never happened because she would rather have Pierre than these best selling novels.

It was her first time in Europe for work. She was often here to watch and support Pierre from the sideline. She never thought that she will be back in Europe so loved and so adored.

But it seems like destiny has a way of messing things up.

"Hi! What's your name?"she greets the woman in front of her.

Even though it has been a long day, she managed to master the art of keeping a perfect smile. She understands how the fans have been waiting in line for so long and she has to give them the best experience as she signs their book.

"My name is Kika, I'm a huge fan of yours" the woman introduced.

Y/N looked up to take a look at her. Kika had a dazzling smile and has this certain aura that exudes her charmingness. Y/N felt that she should be the one asking for Kika's signature because she looks like a stunning goddess.

"I really love the way you write things and I used to read it with my boyfriend when he is not racing"Kika narrates.

Racing, its been a while since Y/N heard that. She completely cuts off that certain topic ever since she left Pierre.

"Oh that sounds like a fantastic way to bond as a couple"Y/N agrees

"Yeah and actually my boyfriend told me that he knows you. I was actually wondering if he is joking but I figured that maybe he is"

There was this sinking feeling in her heart but Y/N would like to think that she made some friends in the F1 grid so this may be their girlfriend. Or maybe her boyfriend is bluffing.

"He races? In what kind of race"Y/N asked,she was careful.

"Oh he does Formula 1, his name is-"

"Kika mon amour"

Y/N didn't have to hear the voice twice to know who that voice belongs to. She knows that voice very well and she couldn't believe her rotten luck.

"Pierre, we were just talking about you"Kika embraces Pierre.

Pierre was shifting nervously and Y/N suddenly realized that Kika doesn't know anything about the shared history between the two of them.

"Oh so you are Pierre's new girl" Y/N knew how to act "I'm so pleased to meet you and yes I know Pierre from childhood"

"See mon amour, I was not lying"Pierre teased.

"So you do know her, we should definitely set up a lunch or dinner together"Kika exclaimed "I can't believe that my favorite author is your childhood friend"

She has that bright and genuine smile on her face. It was that certain genuineness that Y/N makes her heart crack. Why did she have to be so sweet and kind, its so difficult to fault her of anything.

"Y/N is one of the best authors, I know" Pierre proudly states "She has a way of tugging hearts"

"Indeed she has, I remember that when I first started reading one of your series I was so hooked and I wanted to pattern my dream partner to how you write the character of.."Kika babbles.

And everything felt like fading in the background. But Y/N didn't miss how Pierre was looking at Kika so lovingly and so endearing while Kika was rambling excitedly. The heart that was once healed was getting torn up once more because of what's happening in front of her.

#the tortured drivers department #f1 imagine #f1 x reader #f1 fanfic #pierre gasly x reader #pierre gasly x imagine #pierre gasly fanfic #pierre gasly x y/n

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jellogram · 4 months ago

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Ok I am getting asked several times a day about this so I am going to break this down into steps and then pin this post.

How I Got a Job as a Travel Writer (aka the ten steps I took that eventually got me hired in the writing world)

I started writing unpaid for a magazine when I was in high school. I got a leg up because I knew someone whose parent knew the editor of an indie mag and gave me an email address. Unless you are lucky enough to find a connection like that, I suggest reaching out to indie mags and local publications to see if anyone will let you write for them for free.

Got a college degree (cultural anthropology)

Did an unpaid marketing internship one summer in college (it was at night so I could work during the day)

Did all the copywriting and marketing for a club on campus

Graduated in spring 2020, worked a bunch of dead-end jobs

Eventually ended up unemployed and directionless, lived off the government and savings and was generally lost and unhappy.

Decided I wanted a copywriting job but couldn't get hired. Spent months and months applying, never even got an interview.

Saw that several related jobs requested experience in stuff like SEO, html, Google Analytics, and WordPress. Took free online classes to learn those things. Also picked up some copywriting gigs from Upwork on the side to make some money and beef up my portfolio.

To practice WordPress and make myself seem more professional, I started a blog that functioned as a literary journal and published submissions from other young writers.

Found an opening at a copywriting agency and wrote some SEO articles on contract. This didn't pay enough to live on, but it was fun and made my resume way more impressive.

Eventually the agency work dried up and they didn't have any assignments for me, so I went back to Indeed with my new beefed up resume. I saw a job for travel writing and applied. I got hired.

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cher-rei · 9 months ago

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afterglow pt- 11 [ T.A.A ]

pairings: trent alexander arnold x fem!reader

summary: young and aspiring marketing and business major jamie carter (you) is privileged with working alongside the liverpool marketing and public relations team while also getting entangled with their star player and right back, trent alexander arnold.

genre(s): friends to lovers, fluff, slowish?? burn

[wc: 4.2k] [part 1] [part 2] [part 3] [part 4] [part 5] [part 6] [part 7] [part 8] [part 9] [part 10] [part 12]

notes: so many things are happening at once, I kid you not.

“that reminds me.” you snapped your fingers in realisation. “are you free this weekend? I wanted us to go to the planetarium.”

clara who was sat opposite you on the couch at the axa training lounge hummed in thought, despite her already knowing the answer. “unfortunately not. I have family coming over.��

you dropped your phone into your lap with a groan at the familiar answer. this was the third time in a month that she's been unable to hang out. “dude are you serious? are you ditching me because you're like secretly a spy or something.”

your retort made her laugh, but she shook her head. you couldn't deny that it made you feel slightly upset that clara has been busy whenever you wanted to hangout, and there was a flicker in your mind wondering if she was being serious or just didn't want to be around you too much.

you continued to scroll aimlessly through your phone while clara watched with a somber look. “why don't you invite you know who over?”

without saying anything you simply looked at her, the look in your eyes being enough of a tell tale of how you felt about that. trent had been over at your apartment nearly everyday for the past week— not that you were complaining of course. over the course of the week, you'd gotten closer than you expected.

it's not like either of you had anything better to do, so your afternoons after work consisted of making supper, for two instead of just yourself, and lounging around just for the fun of it. however, this week he'd be busy with his physio and you didn't want to interrupt that part of his routine.

so you started to mentally plan out your weekend which you'd be spending alone. “how do you feel about mason mount by the way?”

the question was out of the blue, seeing as you just saw an edit of the footballer on your for you page and it got you thinking. you and maya had talked about it before, she liked to call it “the downfall of mason mount”. at some point, there was a bit of delusion in you that believed that chelsea would take him back.

something flickered in clara's eyes, and she visibly stiffened for a moment. what do you--” she tucked a loose strand of her behind her ear and cleared her throat. “--what do you mean? I feel normal about him, yeah like the normal amount.”

your face scrunched at her answer. “okay? but what do you think about him?”

once again, she began rambling and you wondered if she was even understanding the words coming from her mouth.

“what's that supposed to mean?” she laughed, but the awkwardness didn't go unnoticed. “It's not like I know the guy.”

that wasn't what you meant at all but clara misunderstood entirely. your gaze traveled to her hands that was fidgeting with the hem of her shirt but you pushed the thought to the side. with a sigh you nodded slowly. “uhm, okay then. world cup mason was an era though, ugh take me back.”

“yeah, the best,” clara trailed off and all you could was stare at her blankly, your lips slightly parted in confusion.

the day came to an end quickly, so when you finished up answering the last of your emails and going over the footage of the new ‘up the reds!’ episode, you called it a day and dashed straight to your car.

seeing as it was friday, you didn't need anything and took the liberty of hopping straight into the shower when you got home. of course, you were tackled by a very excited honey on your way in and gave her the necessary attention for a bit.

“hm, we can definitely take a run tomorrow,” you said and gave honey a quick kiss on her head.

you ran yourself a hot relaxing bath and decided to treat this as a self care weekend. it was a peaceful evening which was just what you needed to unwind from the last few weeks of work and confused feelings. when you got out of the bath, you stayed in your towel for a bit and began prepping your supper.

when you finished up with your skincare and got into your pajamas all you needed to do was finish up with your supper. you had the music blasting from your living room, your taylor swift playlist being as bipolar as ever.

spamjam._.

liked by fía.messi and 1 324 223 others

spamjam._. weekend reset🌙

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fía.messi smash. [liked by spamjam._.]

no.elle look at honey 😭 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ spamjam._. uhm hello??? girl where have you been??

→ no.elle studying 😭 but I'm back now!!

→ spamjam._. studying for 4 years straight 😃 you left me for germany!

→ no.elle. shut up you're making me sound like a horrible person!

→ spamjam._. I'm gonna need a very long explanation then, my dms are open bb xx

saffiekahn woah there, second pic 🤭 [liked by spamjam._.]

→ curtisjr ??? literally what

→ saffiekahn don't worry about it hun xx

you sung and danced along to your shuffled playlist in the kitchen while plating your food. and by the time you were finished, your phone started to ring. the music was quickly paused and you answered the video call with an excited smile.

“I saw your instagram post and I felt the need to rush over immediately,” sofía said from the other end if the line.

a laugh ticked at your throat as you set your phone up and sat at the bar stool while you ate. “how are you holding up?”

a heavy sigh left your friend's mouth and she went off camera for a moment to shut her room door. “I'm okay. but I'm not the one recovering from an acl injury anymore.”

a frown formed on your face at her answer and you realised who she was referring to. “I can't imagine how he must be feeling right now.” you picked at your food for a moment. “but it was nice of you to offer to help him you know?”

sofía smiled, and made herself comfortable under her blanket. “pablo's strong, he’s just a little lost right now.” there was a hint of hurt in her voice as she thought back to the day that gavi tore his acl, recalling just how her stomach dropped when she got the call from his mother.

“and he means a lot to me so I want to be with him right now. jamie you should've seen the look in his eyes when I got to the hospital.”

sure you weren't there but you saw the videos and could account for the pain in his eyes as he limped off the pitch. an acl injury was no joke either, so this was really a tell tale of how much sofía truly cared for him even if she was always complaining about him.

the two of you continued to chat for a bit, catching up since so much had happened since you last saw each other at the last clasíco. “and how are you and trent?”

sofía's question made you cringe. “don't go quiet on me now, I know that somethings up.”

yes something was up. but you weren't sure what it was. “uhm, i think it's going somewhere. it's still too early too tell though, but moves are being made.”

on the other end of the line sofía sighed in relief, causing you to roll your eyes. “and I thank clara for that.”

the following day, you started your morning off with a some fruit oatmeal and coffee before changing into a pair of leggings, a tank top and a zip up hoodie to throw over for your walk with honey.

the weather was a bit chilly despite the sun beating down on you. you and honey took a trip to the park and played around for a while, got some coffee and then went back home. after your shower, you fed honey and got yourself something to eat and sat down to do some work.

you checked the team's schedule for the rest of the month and made notes for filming days and photoshoots, as well as the football match that you and trent had agreed upon a while ago. it was going to be a charity match, which you'd be organising and setting up.

then there was the efl cup final at the end of february as well. the next few months were going to be hell and you could feel it creeping up already. you packed up your work things at about 12:45 and decided to watch some t.v for a bit.

with honey in your lap and the t.v playing in the background you scrolled through your socials when something popped up on your feed. your jaw dropped at clara's post.

clarashaw

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clarashaw weekend with my babies 💌

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you didn't know whether to call her or wait it out. she lied to you about having family over, but you weren't even mad. heck she had a boyfriend!

honey squirmed in your lap and you soothed her back to sleep. “your aunt is a liar. but we'll call her tomorrow so she can enjoy her little date weekend.”

“guess who's back?” you joked and waved at your viewers through the camera.

it had been so long since you last streamed, and you missed it. even if you were just here to chat for a few hours, you felt the need to catch up with your fan base who were more than delighted to have you back.

“how is everyone doing? it’s been so long since we've done this.” your eyes ran along the comments on your monitor, when one caught your eye. you hurriedly hopped off your chair and left the room, coming back with honey in your arms.

the live chat started flooding with comment on how cute she was. the puppy in your arms wagged her rail in excitement as she saw herself on the monitor. “this is an official introduction. trent was the first of everyone to see her, and I took her to work the other day where she was treated like a celebrity by the way.”

you spoke to your viewers about how work had been so far, and how you had the opportunity to meet so many people. everyone already knew about sofía, but there was one person that was more recent.

“okay, so we can play a little game,” you said with a cheeky smile. “I'll give you guys a hint, she's the wag of someone who's club we played recently.”

immediately your chat was flooding with names of every wag to date, which had you rolling your head back in laughter. after a while you gave them one last hint— she was someone that you mentioned on stream a very long time ago, and that you described her as “a gift from the heavens”.

from that, the correct answer came in. “yes!! sophia weber!!”

you put your hand to your heart at the remembrance of your meeting at the emirates stadium the week before. you were coming down from the press table when you bumped into her. she flashed you the most breathtaking smile and you felt your knees go weak, fumbling over your words as you tried to apologise.

“and the best part is that she knew who I was!” you gawked. “like who even am I? I'm no one and she knew my name! and said that she'd like me to sit with her the next time we play arsenal.”

the topic then changed to the lastest television drama as you shared recommendations for shows and movies.

“firstly I think they did a great jo–” you were interrupted by your phone buzzing on your table. with a smile you answered seeing that it was jobe, probably calling to check up with you.

“hi, my angel what's up? you're on speaker by the way,” you answered and he went silent for a moment, not having registered that you were streaming.

when he got the message he greeted the stream as well, followed by a bashful laugh. “I called to check up on you. you know, to see if you're alive and all.”

the sound of jobe's voice made you smile. “oh, so you didn't call because you missed me?”

a scoff echoed through the other end of the line. “me? miss you? never in a million years.”

you hummed and played along with his antics, clearly he didn't want to be embarrassed. suddenly you recalled the fiasco from earlier on in the week when trent came over. “also can you please explain how you blocked me from our netflix account to everyone? I'd really appreciate a full explanation.”

jobe burst into a fit of laughter at that, and you sat patiently and waited for an explanation. you, jobe and jude shared a netflix account and have for years, and when you tried to log in the other evening after trent left, the password was wrong.

“it wasn't me though! jude changed the password, I didn't even know I swear,” he defended himself by shamelessly throwing his older brother under the bus.

you shook your head and looked at your camera. “I'm the one paying for the account by the way.” you paused at the sound of his resounding laughter through the speaker. “not the two professional footballers.”

“I'm like 99% sure that you make more money than I do.”

the call didn't last long after that, but you appreciated the call. you hung up after wishing him luck for his match the following day, waiting until he said that he loved you to fully end the call.

the weekend was finally coming to an end. and that meant one thing— clara was about to get beat up (obviously that was an exaggeration). it was after lunch that you called her, but you stayed silent on the line for a good few minutes to emphasise your feeling of betrayal.

you were in the kitchen when the sound of the front door opening rung through your apartment, as well as honey’s excited barking. that was a clear indication that trent was here so you weren't worried.

clara was rambling on about explaining herself when you felt the presence of someone behind you, his hands resting on your sides to tickle you but you fought him off with a stern look.

“I'm not mad that you have a boyfriend, I'm just confused that you lied to me,” you said honestly which caught trent's interest.

he watched with curious eyes as you took a seat on the island and stood opposite you, waiting for an explanation. to this you raised your hand, telling him to hold while you got the full story.

trent was impatient as he listened to you talk to clara, having no clue what was being said from her side. all he got was that she had a boyfriend and that you might know him.

you sighed at clara's words. “yeah but what was the big de– you're what???!”

both honey and trent jolted at the sound of your scream. the look of utter shock in your eyes told trent that this was groundbreaking information and he needed to know. he'd been silent for long enough, his curiosity was eating him up.

this was when you got off the counter and began pacing the kitchen, with him following after you like a lost puppy. he tried to get you attention but you waved him off every single time.

you stood with your hands in your hips. “how long have you known? were you surprised? you'be been engaged for how long?? clara you've been screwing the enemy for 4 years!?”

trent's mouth fell agape, and he couldn't help himself. “screwing the enemy??”

your hand flew to cover trent's mouth, because clara didn't know that he was there until he decided to speak up. you tried to divert the conversation again and shot the footballer a look but all he could do was focus on the lack of space between the two of you.

your body was pressed up against his, so he took the liberty of snaking his arms around your waist and to his surprise you didn't mind. you were barely focused on him at all, which wasn't ideal but he loved the proximity.

then you heard a voice in the background of clara's and you couldn't help yourself. “that's him isn't it? don't lie to me clara, put me on speaker right now.”

after a bit of reluctance she obliged and you did the same, earning a smile of victory from trent who was listening intently until the sound of the familiar male voice.

“hi mason, it's jamie,” you greeted in your nicest voice possible, fighting back the laugh in your throat because of trent's look of disbelief and confusion.

“jude's friend jamie?” he asked clara and she nodded, causing him to smile. “yeah, I remember we met a while ago during the world cup. how are you?”

you pursed your lips at his question. you couldn't be mad at him like this, he was being too nice. “I'm doing great. I should be asking you since you're going to be a father.”

“clara’s pregnant?!”

you slapped trent on the chest but he couldn't stay quiet any longer. your friend om the other hand was more than upset.

“you said that trent wasn't there,” she argued but you were just as fed up and argued back with a scoff.

“yeah and you told me that you had family coming over.”

it was mason's turn to speak during the unfortunate encounter. he was so oblivious to what was going on, and you could hear the excitement in his voice when he realised that trent was there, seeing as they were friends and called out to him just to check.

you gave trent a look, gesturing for him to answer. he cleared his throat and said hi. “hi mate, it's been a while. how are you holding up?”

the conversation didn't last too long and after a mutual agreement clara ended the call. you looked at your screen with a groan, this was not what you had expected at all. absentmindedly, you rested your head on trent's chest, trying to process what had just happened.

it came as such a shock to you, and by trent’s confused rambling he was having a hard time comprehending it too.

“so clara is getting married and she's pregnant,” he repeated to make sense of all the information. “and it's mason mount, who's also the father and they've been together for 4 years and nobody knew at all.”

the only question you had at the moment was why everyone was either getting married or pregnant. what happened to taking it slow? them again you had no right to speak seeing as you weren't even sure if you were ever going to make it that far.

“what are you doing here by the way?” you llifted your head to look up at trent, who merely shrugged. it only dawned on you then that his hands were resting on your waist which caused you tense up.

the pit in your stomach grew and you tried your best to seem as casual as possible. he must've noticed because he was eager to break the silent tension and told you about his physio assessment as he limped over to the couch. the lack of warmth on your wasit was harsh, almost foreign even though it wasn't something that's happened between the two of you before this.

the past two weeks had been a blur regarding your relationship. it was more than obvious by now that there was something going on, but neither of you addressed the topic. a few days ago you called maya to ask her for advice and she said that he was probably waiting for the right time.

which made sense. things always seemed to get messy whenever the two of you got closer, for example, skylar showing up, the recent speculation of him having a girlfriend (who wasn't you), and now his injury. only this time, you weren't planning on backing away and were prepared to stay until it was clear that you had no chance with him.

the rest of the month flew by without any further issues. the team was performing well, trent's recovery was going great and you officially met mason and absolutely melted at him and clara's relationship.

you joined them at clara's house not too long after the call you had with her, and needless to say, you were extremely happy for her. there wasn't a couple that you've met that smiled at each other more than they did. you could practically feel the love and adoration floating through the air when you were around them.

then something else shifted.

you knew something was up when a meeting was called after work hours that friday. but you couldn't think of any issue so you went in with little care, ans sat down at the table beside clara as per usual. it was when you scanned the room that you realised it was just the media team in the room and not the coaching staff as well.

just as you were about to bring it up with clara, jurgen walked into the room with a lopsided smile. he shut the door behind him carefully and took his spot in front, preferring to stand instead of taking a seat.

“good afternoon everyone, I'm sorry for keeping you all after hours but I just finished talking to the boys,” he apologised which had you questioning.

he continued on but it took him a while to get to the point, but eventually he made eye contact with you and smiled but it was somber. the usual excitement wasny present in his eyes, so you sat up in your chair and waited.

“I will be retiring as the team's manager at the end of the season.”

you wanted to throw up, hoping that this was just some sick joke for april fools but the issue was that it wasn't april. the room broke out into mummers and questions for jurgen who looked as if he wasn't taking the news well himself.

he tried to keep it as short as possible, and proposed the idea of content being pushed out as well as a formal announcement video by the end of the month– which was in five days.

the meeting ended after 20 minutes of discussion and more apologies for the late and abrupt news. of course everyone was devastated, and you were literally fighting back tears. then it hit you that the team just got told as well, and all that sadness tripled and hit you like a truck.

there was still three months left of the season, and this could either motivate the boys or ruin everything.

to your surprise jurgen asked you to stay behind for a moment. when the media team finally left, it was just you and your broken heart.

“you know I didn't even feel this broken when I broke up with my ex boyfriend,” you said and shut your eyes to force back the tears daring to escape.

a hearty chuckle echoed through the room and he came to sit next to you. it was silent for a moment again, to give you some time to process the news. “do you know why I make sure that you're so involved with the team?”

you looked at jurgen with furrowed brows at the question, not quite catching on. you agreed that there was a drastic difference between other clubs and their media managers, as opposed to you who showed up to all the matches, travelled with them, stayed during training and got the opportunity to form an actual bond with them.

“because I knew that when I leave, I'll need someone to be a sort of pillar for them.” he hummed and tried to find the correct way to put what he was saying into words. “a new coaching staff will be hired, people who the boys have been with for most of their careers will be gone but I want them to have a familiar face.”

you nodded in understanding. it was difficult for people to leave most of what they know behind and start fresh and grow comfortable with their surroundings so you could account for his reasoning. that didn't mean that any of this would be easier for them though.

“I just need them to feel at home, and you've been doing that exceptionally well from the moment you started working here,” jurgen said and laughed, recalling the early morning that you joined them at the training center.

there was a curious but nervous look in your eyes that day, and just by looking at you then he knew that you'd be a vital part of the team for as long as they stood. and now more than ever, was your role as detrimental as ever and you were determined to make jurgen's departure one that he'll remember.

that evening when you got back to your apartment, you weren't surprised to see your phone blow up with messages from the group chat.

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