#I’ll have to write more but. not today lol I’ve been at a conference all week talking about bugs and fungi and wow I’m tired.
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soma-shitposts · 9 months ago
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Hello!!!!!!!! Hope you're having a nice day!!!! I'm insane about your SOMA au, it's so nice to see an au where Simon is spared from The Horrors
Your au has so much potential and I think that's really neat, was anyone there when Simon woke up? Imagine how scary it must be if you're a pathos employee just chilling and then one of the dive suits gains sentience and starts freaking out, I'd hate to be the one to explain to him that he's not human and he's 100 years in the future
You said in one of your posts that he becomes the poster guy for robot rights, what did he do to become that popular? I'm genuinely curious about what some guy at the bottom of the ocean can do to become a major figure in what sounds like a civil rights movement
*emerges from the salt marsh covered in conference presentation abstracts and barnacles* oml I haven’t thought deeply about my beloved Paranoid Android of Pathos II AU in too long… I’m so glad that goofy little concept has been fun for you too!
1. Was anyone there when Simon woke up?
Kind of? In my head the diving suit+scanner was an abandoned pet project of Catherine’s that was quite literally shoved in a closet somewhere when other projects began to take priority. (The world isn’t ending; research is just Like That sometimes.) The closet happened to have a structure gel leak which contaminated the suit and bam! Simon is Very Confused and concerned about suddenly being in a closet. Catherine is in her office at the time, so hyper focused on her work she doesn’t really hear him come out of the closet and when he asks where he is/what’s going on she kind of assumes he’s a technician that got lost until she turns around and promptly Nopes Out. Explaining to him that he’s not human and 100 years in the future is Ross’ job (AI psychologist - that’s kind of in his job title, right?)
2. Why does Simon have international acclaim for pioneering android rights?
I’m not gonna lie that was a joke based entirely on the crack premise of him getting arrested for stealing from the on-station Panera Bread restaurant (which is entirely my own ridiculous invention for silliness purposes). I guess the reason why the world would care is because like…you arrested a robot. Does the robot’s ‘creator’ get prosecuted or does the robot? I imagine the case was dropped because it was so absurd and had never happened before but it technically set the precedent that a) AI scans are independent of their physical ‘creators’ and b) are entitled to basic rights insofar as the legal system and its proceedings.
A bit of a stretch to call it a civil rights movement since Simon is the only scan that’s ‘awake’ although I’m sure the Carthage Industries Ethics Committee is having a hell of a time figuring out if they need to stop using such scans/should they try to make more androids like Simon for profit/etc. Bad day to be in the corporate offices.
…although I reiterate that factoid was born from the joke premise of Simon stealing from Panera. A restaurant on Pathos II. At the bottom of the ocean. Because Carthage Industries has taste. So this is all a goofy crack scenario anyway lol
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nationalharryleague · 4 years ago
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Portfolio
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Pairing: Harry Styles x Reader
Genre: AU, Angst, Boss!Harry
Word count: 3.5k!
Warnings: Domestic violence mention, boss/employee dynamic
A/N: Hi! I decided to write another fic after Overnight was received so well! Again, thank you to anyone who read and enjoyed it! I’m not sure how I feel about this one lol but I think it’s good enough to post. Please let me know if you enjoyed it and send feedback! Thank you for reading!!! More of my writing can be found in my masterlist! 
Part 2
You had always been a teacher’s pet. Growing up, you were the kid who worked hard to get a 4.0 GPA just for the rush of getting a compliment on your intelligence from your teacher. You craved that validation for all the hard work you put in and you just wanted people you admired to like you. And not for nothing, you deserved the compliments. At work, you were the first one there and the last one to leave. You loved your job and it showed.
You were currently working your first job with any real power at an up and coming public relations firm, Styles Public Relations. SPR was quickly growing in size and recognition and being brought onto the team was a dream come true. You loved everything about working there. The offices were beautiful, it paid well, and your ideas and proposals were finally being heard and brought to the public. Well, you loved everything except one glaring, irritating, and gorgeous problem: your boss.
Harry Styles was a striking man. He was tall, impeccably dressed, and obscenely attractive. His skin was perfectly tan and when it got warm in the office you could see  beautiful tattoos revealed by his rolled up sleeves. Those sleeves were worth more than your life and his head-to-toe Gucci ensembles usually showed his wealth off well. He looked like he should be on the front of a magazine, not behind a desk. Well, he was on the cover of Forbes that one time. While he was so nice to look at, the man was anything but nice. He had an abrasive attitude and not much care for pleasantries or mincing words.
Today, you found yourself on the opposite end of his brutal disposition. You had brought a campaign proposal to him for a newly acquired client and he began to rip it to shreds.
“I don’t know why you thought this campaign was a good idea, Y/N,” he told you sternly. “It’s childish, silly, and unprofessional.” Every word he said dug into you. You tried to attribute his harshness to it being Monday, but you knew he would say this to you any day of the week.
“The client said they wanted something more playful to soften their image,” you defended yourself. “I was doing what they asked for.”
“Well, you did a terrible job at it.”
That stung. You had dedicated your life for weeks to this proposal and had expected him to love it. You hoped this was finally the proposal that would secure your position in his good graces. Apparently, not.
“Okay. I’ll restart the project with a different angle.” You moved forward to grab the binder off the conference room table and flee the room back to the safety of your office. You were shocked when he put his own hands on the binder and slid it away from you.
“You’re off the account. I’ll have someone else do a better job,” he spat. Now, that really hurt. Your ego was closely related to your career and you knew you deserved better than this. You did everything you could to hold back your tears, but one betrayed you and fell down your cheek. You believed you saw his hard exterior soften for a split second before his ruthless demeanor returned.
“Fine,” you breathed, never breaking eye contact with the cruel man. “I’ll leave you now, your highness.” The words left your lips before you could fully register them in your own head. You turned on your heel and rushed back to your office, thinking about the insubordination complaint coming your way.
“Did I just get myself fired?” you asked yourself softly when you were finally in the safety of your own office.
The rest of your week passed in a blur. By Friday, you had accepted your fate and decided to get every passive aggressive dig at your boss you could before you carried your things out in a cardboard box. When you saw him around the office, you made sure to make direct eye contact and shoot daggers his way and you responded to his emails with one word answers. You were also producing the best work you had in years. Turns out, spite was a fantastic motivator for you. If he was going to fire you, he would feel bad about it.
As usual, you spent your Friday night typing away in your office. You were a workaholic and had no problem with staying at work late. Unfortunately, so was your new nemesis.
You caught your first glimpse of him after-hours on a trip to the copier. Your next was on your trek to the coffee pot. Later, on a walk around the office to stretch your legs. Each time you saw him, he was in the same spot. He sat at the conference table surrounded by spreadsheets and graphics and stared perplexed at the piles of paper encompassing him. You knew you could go in and ask him if he needed help, but you wanted to watch him suffer. According to him, you would just do a terrible job anyway.
It was about 7 o’clock when you heard a firm knock on your office door. You expected it to be the cleaning crew asking to vacuum your office. With a ‘come in’ your door opened and your boss’ large body leaned up against the door frame, careful not to enter the office he knew he wasn’t welcome in. While you were shocked he was coming to talk to you, you stayed quiet. If he wanted to talk to you, he would have to break the silence. After a few awkward moments, he did.
“Um, I was thinking about ordering dinner if you wanted to join me.” This was by far the nicest thing he had ever said to you other than ‘you’re hired.’
“Well, what are you getting?”
“I’ll buy you whatever you want for dinner if you take a look at the investor relations portfolio I’m working on.” You were taken aback. He was asking for your help. He needs me, you thought as you smirked to yourself.
“Make it the Italian place down the street and we have a deal,” you countered. You didn’t want to spend anytime with him at all but you were taking this as a sign that  1) he wasn’t firing you, and 2) he thought you did good work. Also, their spaghetti bolognese was calling your name.
Soon you were both knee deep in documents and investor information packets. You absolutely could not believe it but the two of you were collaborating well and making real progress on the portfolio. This was the working relationship you always wanted to have with your big shot boss; the opposite of his constant criticism and belittling of your work.
When the food arrived, you both decided to take a break and eat like an entire company’s stock shares weren’t resting on your shoulders. While your conversation stayed surrounding work, it inevitably steered towards the account he had taken away from you.
“So, how’s my campaign doing?” you asked. You knew it was a risky question but you two had been getting along and you decided you needed an update on the account that had become your baby.
“I gave it to Marcus and-”
“Marcus? Really?” You interrupted  him. “Marcus is a shithead.” Your baby deserved better than Marcus.
“You didn’t let me finish,” he said in a joking manner, with a small smile. The smile was just big enough for you to notice that he had dimples. He had never smiled in front of you before. “He’s doing a horrendous job and I was going to give it back to you on Monday.”
“Thank you. I appreciate the second chance,” you confessed. “Can you level with me for a minute?” you asked after a moment of silence. “Why did you rip into me like that? You could have just told me that it wasn’t right for me and taken it away.”
You watched him think for a moment. He scratched at his five o’clock shadow (that was more like a 9 o’clock shadow now) and you could tell he was searching for the right words.
“Because it got you fired up, but I could tell I hurt your feelings and I apologize.” You never expected an apology for the way he acted and you no longer regretted showing him your emotions. He had hurt you and he should feel bad for it. “I thought you were getting complacent in your ideas and you’ve been killing it since Monday.”
“Thank you for the apology. Here I am thinking you did it just to be a dick.”
“Is that what people in the office really think of me?” He looked genuinely hurt and you felt slightly guilty for being the bearer of bad news. But you hoped if he saw it from his fearful employees’ perspective he would lighten up a little.
“Do you want me to be honest?” He nodded his head. “You act like you have a stick so far up your ass it’s touching your brain and that you’re better than everyone else because your suit costs more than my rent.” If he never minced his words, why should you?
“Oh Y/N, tell me what you really think,” he said after a pause with a light chuckle. You were surprised by his reaction. You never expected him to take something like that so well.
“Listen,” you began again. “I understand and respect your toughness on us. But there is a line between criticism and just being mean.” You decided this was a time to call him on his shit, during this very very rare moment of comradery between you. You wanted to have a healthy relationship with him, maybe even a friendship.
“I understand that I can get a bit harsh. It’s just the whole ‘is it better to be loved or feared’ thing. I’ve always thought fear would be the safer option.” You felt like you were getting to pull back the layers of his hard shell and see the human being underneath for a brief period of time.
“But if you were truly loved, no one would ever betray you,” you whispered softly, always the romantic.
“Love has never been reliable, has it?” Your heart broke for him and you realized someone doesn’t become as hardened as he is overnight. Something did this to him.
“What about love being the most powerful force on earth?” you wiggled your eyebrows at him, referring to the slogan for an engagement ring campaign you were both working on.
“Well, when your wife tries to steal the company that you built together and run away to Spain with her personal trainer, love gets a little bit more complicated.” There it is, you thought to yourself. This was the first time he ever felt like a real person to you; not like a teflon shell of anger, wealth, and ambition. His features looked softer and he seemed less like your evil boss, and more like someone dealing with a painful trauma.
“I’m sorry, Harry,” you said softly, genuinely meaning it. “Oh shit, sorry. Mr. Styles,” you corrected yourself. He laughed at your mistake and you watched his dimples reach their full potential. He looked down at the table, obviously a little uncomfortable with his rare moment of vulnerability with the woman who was probably the biggest pain in his ass in the office. Before you knew it, you had decided to share your own uncomfortable vulnerability.
“My ex put me in the hospital while I was still living in New York,” you began, watching his eyes immediately jump to yours and listen intently.
“Oh Y/N, you don’t have to talk about this… I didn’t mean-,” he tried to stop you but you figured if he shared with you, you could share with him.
“No, it’s okay. It’s been a long time,” you reassured him, shaking your head softly. “We were fighting because I found out he had been cheating on me. I had packed a bag and was trying to leave when he pushed me down the stairs of our apartment building. I broke my arm in two places and I had to have a few surgeries.” You rolled up the sleeve of your blouse and showed him the scar that ran down your forearm. You scanned his face and it looked like he genuinely cared about you for a moment. You brushed it off. “After that, I decided I needed to leave New York.”
“Why London?” he said gently.
“I was obsessed with this English boy band when I was growing up,” you laughed. “I guess I romanticised London in my head and decided it might be a good place for a fresh start.”
“While I’m incredibly sorry you had to go through all of that to get to London, I’m very glad that you found your way to me,” he spoke tenderly. His face was serious, but not the seriousness you were used to while getting scolded about your work. It was gentle and like he meant every word he said. You were happy you found your way to this version of him too.
“To the firm, I mean,” he corrected himself and you felt a weird pang of sadness inside of you. You are just his employee, remember that, you thought to yourself.
“I’m happy I found the firm too. If only I could figure out how to deal with my hellish boss?” you asked sarcastically, rolling your eyes dramatically and laughing at him. You realized that this could definitely be taken as flirting, but you decided were okay with that.
“Maybe they’re just trying to push you because you are by far the best campaign director they have,” he said nonchalantly, leaning back in his seat and watching your every movement. You felt your cheeks heat and the rush of adrenaline from finally getting his validation. This was all you ever wanted from him.
“Oh, I know,” you smirked, leaning back in your own chair and studying him as well.
He really was gorgeous. His quaffed hair had fallen over the course of the day and a few stray pieces hung on his forehead. His black dress shirt fit him so well. You were fully able to appreciate the tailored fit after he had shrugged off his blazer and removed his tie, unbuttoning the top few buttons to reveal glimpses of two swallows that sat on his collarbones. A chain that you had never gotten to see hung around his neck, a cross and the Star of David resting on his chest.
“We should get back to work,” he murmured after a few extended moments of staring at each other.
“Probably.”
You two worked for another hour or so before you let out a small yawn and Harry insisted you both call it a night. Although you protested and told him you were fine, he was firm in his demand that you go home and rest. As you packed up your things in your office, he hovered in the room and watched your every move. Conversation was relaxed and casual, not stained with the malice you usually had towards each other.
He took your briefcase from your hands, offering to help as you struggled to carry a poster and a few proposal binders, and carried it as you walked in step with each other out of the office. When you reached the front doors and went to go your separate ways, you were met with a puzzled look on his face.
“Where are you going? The parking garage is this way?”
“Oh, I don’t have a car. I take the tube wherever I have to go.”
“Let me drive you home,” he offered. When you denied his proposal, you were met with a stern, “Let me drive you home or you’re fired.”
Although you fought him the entire walk to his car, asserting that you were fine to take the train, you climbed into his beautiful jet black sports car with a huff and a pout. He had a triumphant smirk on his face that you were tempted to slap off, but decided to take this as a sign from the universe that you just weren’t meant to get blisters from your heels walking home tonight. You watched as his long fingers gripped the steering wheel skillfully and you both sat peacefully, the silence between you only interrupted when you gave him occasional directions to turn right or left. The soft sounds of a Fleetwood Mac song you couldn’t remember the name to flowed through the speakers and his mouth silently lip-synced the words. You admired him the whole drive home and you didn’t want to get out of the car when he pulled up to your building.
You both departed the car, walking around to the trunk where he had stashed your briefcase. Your casual conversations had long passed, both of you beginning to mourn the night you had together. You had enjoyed this night far more than you anticipated and you hoped this would be the first of many late nights at the office that he would join you for. You looked up at him when he handed you your briefcase and you both stood there in silence for just a few more fleeting seconds, neither of you wanting to be alone yet. You were first to break the noiseless night.
“Thank you for dinner and the ride home, Mr. Styles.”
“Please call me Harry,” he said with a subtle smile, stepping up on to the curb, closing much of the space between you.
“I can do that, Harry.” His first name felt foreign on your lips but it was a welcome change.
“Thank you for all your help tonight. I needed your fresh set of eyes on that portfolio.” This interaction felt so intimate; his words hushed and complimentary, intensified by his body’s proximity to yours.
“Whenever you need me,” you breathed, refusing to break the eye contact you were both desperately holding on to.
With one swift step he pressed your bodies and your lips together, backing you up until your body pressed against his car. You dropped your briefcase to the ground and your hands flew up to the base of his neck. He tasted like the lemon cookie he had ordered for dessert and you smelled his intoxicating cologne as you drank each other in. His hands snaked their way under your blazer and rested on your hips, pulling you impossibly closer to him. His kiss was deep and demanding and you weren’t sure if you ever wanted it to end.
This morning you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as him and mere hours later you were ready to bring him up into your own. He was infuriating and rude and knew just how to push your buttons. But, he also seemed to be gentle, kind, and thoughtful when he wanted to be. Harry Styles was an enigma. You couldn’t wrap your head around him and it drew you to him even more.
Your bodies flowed in perfect sync with one another and your open-mouthed and hungry kisses were so hypnotizing you couldn’t think. Harry was the only person that existed to you anymore, tuning out the murmurs of a passersby, and anywhere your skin touched his was lit on fire.
Finally coming up for air, you breathlessly peeled your lips away from the other. You both refused to break your eye contact, your hands gripping tight to his biceps to steady your weak legs, and scanned each other’s faces.
“You have a little something,” he murmured, reaching to wipe your smudged red lipstick from your bottom lip with his thumb. You leaned into his touch and smiled up at him.
“So do you,” you panted, staring at his lips that were now stained red.
You both just stood there for a little while, soaking up the other’s company before you pulled away and things got more complicated. He was your boss after all, was this even allowed? Did he want to be something more than coworkers? If things ended poorly, would you still be able to work together? Would he be nicer to you now?
“It’s late. You should get some sleep,” he eventually broke the silence and your spiraling thoughts.
“I agree. You worked me real hard today,” you smirked at him, unable to pass up the innuendo. An amused grin spread across his lips and he took a step back from you, releasing you from his grip against the car. He gathered your things you had dropped on the ground during his assault and handed them back to you.
Harry leaned forward and pressed a kiss to your cheek that lingered a little too long to be considered friendly. It made your cheeks burn.
“I’ll see you Monday, sweetheart” was the last thing he said to you before he climbed back into his car and drove off into the night.
Part 2
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wroteasongabouther · 4 years ago
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can’t stand to see you lonely: part 3
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a/n: we love a little throwback with this gif, my heart 😭 again, i can’t thank you all enough for the love you’ve shown my writing it’s truly the sweetest thing and i’m happy you guys are liking the story so far! this was is the longest part so far with a lot happening, so happy reading! remember to leave some feedback and reblog cause it’s always appreciated.
and as always, thanks to the lovely jess @arrogantstyles​ and jill @havethetimeofyourstyles​ for beta reading ❤️
word count: 19k
warnings: mentions of a partner cheating (f*** mark), minor mention of drugs (aka weed lol), alcohol consumption (tequila anyone?), and serious! sexual! tense!
fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist
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Y/N didn’t realize she had left Harry’s apartment the other day with his hoodie on until the next morning when she had woken up to the sweet smell of faint lavender and laundry soap. She didn’t return the hoodie, though. In fact, she shamelessly slept in the hoodie for three more nights; it was just really comfortable, she tries to convince herself that’s the only reason she’s wearing it to bed each night. It wasn’t because the smell that calmed her, reminding her of that dimpled smile and dazzling green eyes that would wander into her dreams every night now and then. And it was especially not because she found herself falling for those same pair of eyes, no, not a shred of feelings besides friendship there.
“You’re not fooling anyone,” Sammy deadpans.
“What are you talking about now?” Y/N questions, keeping her eyes on her phone as she texts back Harry.
“You and your little affair,” Sammy quips back. His choice of words causes Y/N’s head to quickly snap up and look at her friend. He’s giving her a bored look, a smug little smile on his face that makes Y/N narrow her eyes.
“I am not having an affair, Sammy, so let’s not start that rumour around the office, please,” Y/N says to him in a hushed voice. “Plus, Mark hasn’t bothered to call or text me in almost a week now. So, I’m pretty sure the next time we do talk it will be to end things officially,” Y/N explains, her voice falling flat as she feels her heart rate pick up just thinking of her and Mark breaking up. Regardless of the fact he’s hurt her feelings, annoyed her and so on - it’s still a break up, and they really freaking suck.
“I sure hope so,” Sammy says. “You know I’m team Harry all the way,” he gives Y/N a wicked smile which she only rolls her eyes at.
There were no teams to be on, she thinks. She was just becoming friends with Harry, and yeah, she found him ridiculously attractive and really sweet too, but she wasn’t dumping Mark for him or anything. If she was dumping Mark it was because of how their relationship turned out, without Harry’s help, and how neither of them are benefitting from being together anymore. Hell, they didn’t even have sex last time he was in the city. It also didn’t have to do with the fact that Y/N would be nervous that Harry could hear them. Nope that thought didn’t cross her mind not even once - Y/N finds herself biting on her bottom lip as she’s deep in thought and trying to convince herself certain things.
Her phone buzzes where she left it on her desk brings her back to reality. She picks it up and swipes up as the face ID recognizes her, opening up the messages, between her and Harry, that she was previously on. Y/N can’t help it as a chuckle leaves her lips. She notices how Sammy leans back in his chair and raises a brow at her, but she chooses to ignore him and instead keeps watching the gif Harry sent on loop over and over again.
It was a cartoon Santa, dabbing. Yes, Harry used a gif that had to do with a trend from the world's youth. Y/N never would have guessed Harry even knew what dabbing was. She holds back another chuckle and looks up a gif to respond to his. She goes for one that’s a cartoon of Rudolph, his nose lighting up like a strobe light as he dances on two legs. It’s silly, but she’s enjoying this back and forth texting of stupid Christmas themed gifs. It’s been going on for about five minutes and she doesn’t even know why or how it started, but she loves it.
How’s work so far today? Harry texts after sending a gif of the Olaf the snowman from Frozen, dancing in the field of flowers. Y/N tilts her head to the side and leans further back in her seat, stretching her legs under her desk. The work that was on her desk was long forgotten when her and Harry began texting earlier.
It’s good, I finally have a few moments of downtime at my desk. We had like four clients in this morning for some fittings for the many Christmas parties going on next week. Y/N sends that off before typing, How’s your day? Write anything good yet?
Glad it’s less busy now, don’t let me distract you with all these amazing Christmas gifs though. And I’ve got a few things written while at the cafe, finally found the right melody for another song I was working on last week. Harry types out to Y/N, biting on the nail of his thumb after hitting send. He’s been leaning on the guitar in his lap for the past twenty minutes. That melody was found, but pushed away after he got into texting Y/N.
Not too distracting, although I think Sammy is jealous no one’s sending him any silly gifs. A second text shows up only seconds later, Harry’s sometimes surprised at how fast Y/N can type. And that’s good though! Will I ever get to hear you play in person besides through the wall our apartments share?
Harry smiles over his thumb at the first text but then is biting at his nail again as he reads over the second bubble a few times. He isn’t too surprised that she can hear him play from her apartment, but he is surprised she’s asking to hear him play. He doesn’t think he’s all that great of a guitar player. It’s kind of hard to think when he’s best mates with one of the best guitar players in the industry; Mitch could outplay him any day. Harry stops biting on his nail and hovers his thumbs over his keyboard. Although he’s usually too nervous to just sit and play for someone, he finds himself imagining playing for Y/N.
Tell Sammy I’ll send him some gifs too if he wants. And as for playing for you, maybe... if you catch me on a good day. Y/N shakes her head at his response, somehow not too shocked that’s what he says. She recalls him not telling her what popular songs he had written, how his cheeks grew a shade of pink at the mere idea of Y/N knowing of his work. So, she’ll take her odds and pray that someday soon she gets Harry on a good day and hears him play something.
“Y/N,” Amanda’s voice calling her name causes Y/N to jump, sitting straight up in her seat and nearly dropping her phone. She shuts off the screen and feels the vibration from her Apple watch, a notification reading that it was time to head into the conference room to interview new interns with Amanda. Y/N looks over her shoulder to see Amanda standing behind her with her eyebrows raised and her lifeline of a notebook in hand. “You alright?” She asks, slight concern in her tone.
“Yeah,” Y/N clears her throat and stands from her desk, wobbling on her heeled boots as she gathers up her laptop and cell phone. “I’m all good, ready to find us some new interns,” she states with a smile.
Amanda gives her a look as if doubting her, but then nods as Y/N steps in front of her and they move into the conference room. It’s not until their third candidate that Y/N thought of her boyfriend. Her watch buzzes, flashing up at text from Mark, then one from Sammy right away. She ignores them and tries to focus on listening to yet another fashion student talk about their love for the industry and the company. She was once just like them, sitting on the other side of this conference table and grinning ear to ear from just being in the building. She still felt excited to come into work every day and she feels very grateful to still feel that way. So, therefore she doesn’t hate sitting there for a few hours and having a handful of first impressions with girls that she once was. But, in the back of her mind she’s wondering what Mark could have texted her. It’s been five days since the phone call she ended up hanging up on him. What could he possibly have to say?
“Thank you for coming in today,” Amanda says with a smile to their last interview of the day. The small blonde stands up as the two of them do, and reaches across the table to shake both of their hands before saying short goodbyes and letting one of the receptionists walk them out.
“I think I liked her the best,” Y/N comments, writing a quick note beside her resume.
“I agree. We’ll email back and forth a bit more about it. I’ve got another phone meeting with a few clients for the new year first,” Amanda explains as she’s reading over her planner before snapping it shut.
“Sounds like fun,” Y/N nods before walking separate ways from Amanda and heading back to her desk. As she gets closer, she can't help but notice the oversized bouquet of flowers on her desk. Her eyebrows pinch together as she slows her steps, taking in the beautiful pinks and oranges in the bouquet before reaching for the card that stuck out of it. Sammy pops up then, right by Y/N’s side almost breathing down her neck.
“Did you not get my text? These showed up like halfway through your interviews,” Sammy states, trying to read the card before Y/N can. She shields it’s away from his eyes and looks at him over her shoulder. “Sorry,” he apologizes and takes a step back.
Y/N reads the printed out note and finds herself sighing as she reads it over again. I’m sorry - Mark. Y/N shakes her head and rolls her lips into her mouth, staring at the bouquet again. That’s it, just sorry? She thinks, but then remembers that he had texted her too. Maybe there’s something more there but Y/N finds herself doubting it.
“Who’s it from?” Sammy questions. Y/N ignores him and pulls out her phone from her back pocket. She unlocks it and taps on her messages app, having to back out of her conversation with Harry in order to open up Mark’s text from earlier.
Did you get the flowers? The company sent me a notification saying someone signed for them. Y/N rolls her eyes at his careless text message; not an ounce of emotion behind any of his words, through text or on the note. She doesn’t find herself smiling at the flowers, thinking how it’s a nice gesture, but instead finding it ridiculous that her boyfriend missed the whole point of the fight and just thinks some random bouquet of flowers will fix everything that she’s feeling. Is he even bothered by the fact they fought and haven’t spoken in five days? She wonders as she shuts off her phone screen without responding.
“Mark sent them,” Y/N finally tells Sammy, turning around to hand him the card. After he grabs it, and Y/N turns back around and places a hand on either side of the vase. She turns on her heels and walks around her desk to the left, moving Sammy’s chair out of the way and placing them on his desk instead. “You can have them, they look better on your desk,” she stays in a flat tone of voice, feeling indifferent about if she should just throw them out or not.
“Are you going to break up with him?” Sammy asks, his voice is quiet and soft - sounding like a caring friend instead of a gossiping coworker.
Y/N bites down on her bottom lip and nods, “yeah, I think I am going to. I just don’t know how, breaking up with someone on the phone feels so shallow and I would hate to be broken up with over the phone.” She explains, turning back around to look at Sammy again. He’s frowning, a look of pity in his eyes.
“But it’s unfair to you both to keep this relationship going on like this, Y/N,” Sammy says, letting out a deep sigh and tosses the card in the garbage bin by Y/N’s desk. “You’ll know what to do, you always do,” Sammy adds on with a smile.
Y/N tries to mirror her friends smile but feels it fall flat on her lips. She’s doubting herself, doubting her choices with Mark these past four months, and she keeps doubting herself all day till she’s walking into her apartment. She closes her door and slips out of her coat. Y/N sighs and pulls out her phone while walking to her bedroom, taking a seat on the end of her bed before pulling up Mark’s contact.
Her fingers hover over the call icon, her heart beating a million miles an hour as she imagines how this phone call is going to go. Should she really break up with him over the phone? She thinks, yet again doubting herself. This was really the only way to do it, seeing as he won’t be in the city for who knows how long. Y/N didn’t want to be in this relationship anymore, especially since it started to feel less like a relationship as the days went on this past month. Y/N inhales deeply just as her phone begins to ring, Mark’s contact picture of him kissing her cheek fills the screen in her hand. Y/N exhales before tapping the green icon on the phone and bringing it to her ear.
“Hi,” Y/N says softly into the phone.
“Hey, you didn’t answer my text earlier,” Mark starts off the conversation with a hard tone of voice as if he’s annoyed. Y/N licks her lips and nods, even though Mark can’t see her.
“Yeah, um, sorry, work got busy,” she lies. She had the time to text him back, she just didn’t know what to say as her thoughts were clouded with how to break up with him.
“Did you get them?” Mark asks.
“The flowers? Yeah, I did,” Y/N sighs. She’s racking her brain on how to do this. How do you break up with someone over a phone call? She shakes her head and brings a hand to her forehead, pushing her fingers through the roots of her hair. “Mark, we need to talk,” she says, feeling that’s the best she can do - the good ol’ classic line.
“Yeah, we do,” Mark agrees with a sigh from him now. Y/N listens as it’s like something shuffles on the other end of the phone, as if Mark switches his phone from one ear to the other. “Look, Y/N, you’re a wonderful girl, truly, you are. But we’re not really benefiting from this, are we?” Mark says, snapping Y/N out of her thoughts as her brows pinch together.
“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N questions.
“Uh, yeah-”
“No, no, I’m breaking up with you. I have thought long and hard about this for days now, and I don’t think we should be together anymore, Mark,” Y/N blurts out quickly, feeling as though her moment that she’s been talking herself up to all day was being taken away from her. She releases the grip she had on her hair and stares straight ahead at the painting on her wall, waiting for Mark to say something.
He lets out a long breath, “then I guess this is a lot easier for the both of us then, huh?” He says. Y/N shakes her head in disbelief.
“I guess so,” she mumbles.
“I’ll uh, I’ll send my assistant over soon for any of my things I’ve left at your apartment. She’ll bring the few things of yours that are at my place too. Are you available tomorrow?” Mark explains, asking the question so casually too. In fact, he sounds like he’s distracted with something on his end of the call too.
“Have you had this planned for a while now or something?” She asks, her eyebrows only pull together tighter in confusion. How can he act so unbothered only seconds after breaking up with her? She thinks. Sure, it’s a mutual break up, but she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t bothered by it still.
“Uh, no,” Mark mutters, not sounding convincing at all. Y/N rolls her eyes and shakes her head at herself - how did she even date this guy?
“You know what, whatever,” Y/N breathes out as her eyes close and she runs a hand through her hair, “I’ll be home from work around five in the evening tomorrow for your assistant to come by. Tell her to be on time, please,” she tells Mark.
“Alright,” he says. There’s a couple beats of silence between them, and she doesn’t feel upset over it at all. In fact she feels at peace with this breakup. She supposes that they didn’t date for long, and they never said I love you to each other and really didn’t spend too much time with one another the past two months. Maybe that’s why she’s not bothered by this break up at all.
“Well, it was fun, Mark,” Y/N says, “I wish you the best,” she adds.
“You too, Y/N,” he replies. And with that, Y/N brings the phone from her ear and ends the call. Staring at the screen that was on Mark’s contact info for a few minutes as she lets herself fall into her thoughts.
That was a lot easier than she imagined it to be earlier today. Y/N falls back on her bed, her hair fanning out around her as she holds her phone to her stomach and stares up at the ceiling. Did he have this planned though? She finds herself thinking. She imagines that he sent those flowers earlier to butter her up, maybe, before he called to break her heart only hours later. And having already made plans for his assistant to go through his apartment and bring her things to her. Maybe he already had gathered her things beforehand, meaning over a week ago he would have packed it up - only to come over to her house and fight with her for days on end before making her drive him to the airport. Y/N just shakes her head as her thoughts run wild.
Y/N knows exactly what she needs to do to get out of this overthinking stage that she’s got herself into. She gets up from her bed and opens her closet, her figure skates sitting on the bottom of the closet leaning nicely against each other. She finds an empty tote bag and tosses them inside, then quickly gets dressed into a pair of light blue skinny jeans, a plain white turtleneck long sleeve, and then layering by putting on a dark grey crew neck that has ‘LA’ in white writing across the front.
After making sure she has her wallet, phone and keys, she puts on a black puffer jacket and heads out her front door. Harry’s walking out of the elevator just as Y/N is locking up, he’s got a Starbucks hot drink in hand and a smile on his face.
“Hey,” Harry says, but then his eyebrows pinch together as he realizes the time, “where are you off to?” He wonders. Y/N brushes her hair from her face and lets out a small sigh.
“It’s, like, two weeks till Christmas and I haven’t gone skating yet, so I just got up and grabbed my skates to go out,” she explains, lifting her shoulder that her tote bag was hanging off. Her skates are poking out the top slightly, Harry notices the white figure skates with a pair of matching light pink guards on the bottom.  
“Oh, fun,” Harry nods, meeting her eyes again.
Y/N doesn’t even think twice before she’s asking, “did you want to come with me?”
Harry smiles, causing Y/N to mirror him, before he takes a few moments to nod in response. “I would love to, yeah,” Harry clears his throat, noticing how overly excited he may have sounded. “I should dress a bit warmer, though, it’s supposed to snow tonight,” he tells her, motioning to his apartment door down the hall.
“Good call,” Y/N says, following him to his doorway. Harry holds open his door for her after unlocking it, then letting it close softly behind them as he takes off the lighter jacket he had on. Y/N smiles at the decorations around his apartment, loving how the glow from the lights of his tree filled up the space around them before he can turn on any lights.
“I don’t have my own skates, suppose I’m not a real New Yorker like that,” Harry states as he opens the closet beside his front door and starts ruffling around in order to find where his scarfs were hiding.
“That’s fine,” Y/N says with a soft chuckle, turning around to watch as he sticks his head into the closet and pushes things around. “They have rentals at Bryant Park,” she tells him.
“I’ve never been,” Harry admits. He finally gets a hold of the long burgundy scarf with a brown leaf pattern on it, his mum had gifted it to him a few years back. Harry pushes the doors of his closet closed and puts the scarf down for a moment, hanging it on the door handle before he grabs his long black coat to slip it on. Once he’s got that on, he wraps the scarf around his neck, fixing the collar of his coat and the scarf so it’s comfortable.
“You’ve really never been to Bryant Park?” Y/N asks surprisingly. It wasn’t Central Park by any means, but anyone who lived in the Manhattan area typically had walked through Bryant Park.
“Nope,” Harry says, grabbing for his forgotten Starbucks drink, bringing it to his lips for a quick sip. He looks up at Y/N to find her smiling at him. “What?” Harry questions.
“Nothing, I’m just excited for you to see Bryant Park. It’s beautiful during the Winter,” she states.
“Well then, let’s not waste any time, come on,” Harry nods his head to the door and gives her a smile while holding it open for her. She thanks him, waits for him to lock the doors before they fall into step with one another to the elevator. Harry beats her to hitting the button, literally leaning in front of her in order to push the down button before she can. Y/N shakes her head at him, smiling.
“So how was your time at the cafe earlier?” Y/N asks Harry, waiting for the elevator to arrive.
“It was good,” Harry says, tilting his head to the side so he can look at Y/N, “wrote another song about love,” he adds with a smile. Y/N chuckles and raises her eyebrows.
“Never would have guessed,” she teases him.
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The whole walk to Bryant Park, all Harry can think about is when the hell was the last time he skated? That and how good Y/N looked, which is a thought that’s always going through his head, to be honest. But he’s stressing himself out, hoping and praying that some sort of muscle memory clicks in and he doesn’t embarrass himself in front of Y/N. God, maybe he should have just saved himself the embarrassing situation and declined her invitation. Harry knew the moment he looked into her eyes there was something a bit off with her; how her smile didn’t quite reach its full potential - so the moment she asked if he wanted to come along with her, he didn’t even think twice before saying yes. The girl has her own figure skates, Harry wouldn’t doubt it if she’s about to skate circles around him.
“All black outfit,” Y/N comments as she watches Harry pick out a pair of black skates in his size, “I don’t think I’ve seen you wear all black before,” she adds with a smile.
“I used to only wear all black,” he admits, “back in uni, I really didn’t venture out in fashion and only wore black jeans and black t-shirts basically all year,” he explains to Y/N, letting her lead the way to the area for skaters to sit on the many benches and do up their skates.
“I truthfully can’t even imagine that,” Y/N replies, taking a seat on the bench right by the open door to the ice rink. She looks out at the about forty people on the ice, lit up by the many Christmas lights hanging over it and a few light posts in each corner too, as the sun has fully set now. The city around them is still hustling and bustling as it always is, which makes her smile.
“It was a tragedy, but I got older and realized that fashion can be fun, especially after moving to New York, seeing what people wear out for some innocent ice skating,” he mentions, taking in Y/N’s fashion forward outfit. The style was very trendy these days, he had noticed - online and in the streets.
“I would be an abomination of a former FIT student if I just walked around New York City in leggings and a hoodie,” Y/N states, “if I’m going somewhere, with someone, I always feel the need to look good.”
“And you do, by the way, look good,” Harry says, his words coming out quick and in a bit of a stumble. Y/N can feel the blush creeping onto her cheeks. She says a quiet ‘thank you’ before she begins to lace up her skates.
Y/N has her skates done up before Harry, so she has an extra minute to take out her phone and open her Instagram app. She checks out her newest comments, liking a few, before she finds herself aimlessly scrolling through her feed and liking some posts there. Checking up on Harry, she notices he’s almost done doing up his skates, so she stands up and grabs her tote bag that now holds her skate guards and chunky black boots.
“Did you want to lock anything up?” Y/N asks Harry, motioning to the small lockers to their left.
He shakes his head, “no thank you,” he says before his attention is back on tying his skates. Y/N smiles at how his tongue pokes out just slightly passed his lips before she turns around and walks over to lock up her tote bag, making sure everything but her phone is inside.
Once the small locker door is closed, she walks over to the wall of the ice rink and opens her Instagram again, putting on a quick filter that makes it look like it’s being filmed with an old film camera before she pans her camera around while holding down the button on the screen. As she turns to face where Harry is, she cuts off the video and double checks he’s not in it. With having so many followers, she always makes sure that her friends and family are comfortable with being posted before doing so. Y/N adds a quick caption of ‘first skate this season’ with a white heart emoji before she posts it to her story, then she slips the phone into her back pocket and walks over to where Harry sat waiting for her.
“Ready?” Harry asks, smiling up at her.
“Yup,” she nods, smiling back at him. Harry nods, muttering ‘alright’ under his breath, and then stands up on wobbling legs. Y/N chuckles and reaches for his elbow, helping him stand up straight. “You’ve skated before, right?” She asks, realizing now that she only assumed that he had.
“Uh, it’s been a few years,” Harry admits, flashing another nervous smile her way. All he can think about is her hand on his arm, and how she hasn’t let go of him yet. Harry hadn’t even thought about the potential arm holding, or hand holding maybe, they could get into here. She has a boyfriend, he reminds himself over and over again as he watches her lips tug up as she smiles back at him again.
“Alright, we’ll take it slow then,” she assures him, pulling at his arm gently to get them moving forward on their skates.
Y/N takes the first step onto the shining ice, letting her blades slide over the top slowly before she takes a sharp turn and is in front of Harry in an instant. His eyebrows fly up his forehead as his eyes fall down to her skates again, noticing how worn out they look now, her left foot lifting up as she sticks the toe of her skate blade into the ice - her whole stance made her look like some sort of professional. Harry’s head snaps up and he meets her gaze, lips now smirking at his stunned expression.
“You’ve been skating a lot before then, hm?” Harry gulps, looking back down at his feet as he inches slowly to the ice.
“Since I was a kid,” Y/N reveals. He’ll touch more on it later, but first he wants to get himself onto the ice and get this embarrassment over with. Harry sighs and starts to place his right foot into the ice, letting out a deep breath as he does but just as quickly as he makes the move he’s slipping. Harry sucks in a sharp breath, ready to fall before he even has both feet on the ice. But both of Y/N’s arms fly out and grab a hold of his forearms, causing him to wrap each of his hands around her much smaller forearms.
Harry shakes his head and just decides to get it over with, pushing both skates onto the ice in a quick motion. Y/N is fully prepared for his sudden movement and skates backwards, checking over her shoulder quickly to make sure she doesn’t get in anyone's way. She keeps a tight grip on Harry’s arms and smiles as she looks up at him and sees the stressed out look on his face.
“You’re doing great,” Y/N assures him, her voice causing Harry to look down and meet her soft eyes. “We can move a bit closer to the wall so you can hang onto it for the first bit?” She suggests, motioning to the wall beside them.
“Probably for the best,” Harry agrees, nodding his head and finally taking his eyes off Y/N’s in order to make his way to the wall. The few movements on his part aren’t as hard as he thought they’d be to get over to the wall. He thinks his muscle memory for skating will click in soon, hopefully.
Y/N takes it slow beside Harry, waiting for him to get comfortable enough to only need one hand on the wall before she lets go of his arm. She already misses the warmth from his touch. Not even one day into her and Mark’s break up and she’s already feeling touch deprived. To be fair, her and Mark hadn’t so much as given each other a few quick pecks and barely snuggling on the couch the last couple days they were together. Y/N shakes her head slightly at her thoughts of Mark.
“So how did you get into skating?” Harry asks after a few moments of them finding a slow pace.
“Um,” Y/N pauses as she thinks of how to explain how her parents didn’t want to spend much time with her, so they stuck her into many different hobbies to fill the void. “I was into a lot of the typical little girl hobbies, dancing, gymnastics, art, but figure skating was something that just really stuck with me as I grew up. Probably in connection with my obsession with the holidays, and the winter season,” Y/N explains, noticing already how Harry’s pace on his skates is picking up.
“Are you, like, really good?” Harry questions. Y/N chuckles and looks away from the ice below them to meet his gaze before he’s glancing down at his skates again in order to keep upright.
“Yup,” Y/N nods, rolling her lips into her mouth to hide her grin.
“So humble,” Harry jokes with a chuckle. “You could probably skate circles around me, huh? Do those little twirly things too?”
“I could do a few spins, yes,” Y/N says and nods her head. “I’ll let you get used to the ice first before I throw out any big moves,” she adds, looking down at how Harry’s feet were moving on the ice. Every minute he is getting better, soon enough he’ll let go of that wall and be able to skate in slow laps around the rink with her.
“How very considerate of you,” Harry notes, causing the both of them to chuckle again.
They do another two laps with Harry’s hand just inches away from the wall, hovering over it just in case he made the wrong move. But then soon enough, they’re mixed in with the other skaters and making strong, smooth strides across the ice. Y/N is laughing at something Harry says about how he must look like Bambi on ice, head thrown back and eyes crinkled up, when Harry just about falls. She catches him gasping and opens her eyes quickly before catching his hand in hers.
“You okay?” She asks, clear concern in her voice as she moves in order to meet his eyes. Harry knows this isn’t the first time they’ve sort of held hands, but it still feels like her skin is too warm for his cold touch and butterflies erupt in his stomach as she cards their fingers together so effortlessly. Damn Styles grow some balls and don’t let her make all the first moves, he thinks to himself.
“‘M alright,” Harry mumbles and nods, completely losing focus on the world around them as they float across the ice looking into each other's eyes and holding hands.
Y/N licks her lips, blinking up at Harry in what feels like an innocent way but realizes the moment his gaze drops to her lips that maybe it isn’t. Clearing her throat, she squeezes Harry’s hand and then slowly lets go. Harry can’t help but feel disappointed by how short they’d held hands for, he was hoping it would at least last a whole lap around the rink. Y/N shivers and sticks both of her hands into her coat pockets, playing off letting go of his hand with being cold, but in reality touching Harry’s skin made her feel like she was on fire.
“Tell me what your favourite colour is,” Harry blabs out loud suddenly.
Y/N furrows her brows and looks up at Harry. He’s no longer watching the ice with each stride of his skates, instead his posture is completely at ease almost as he seems much more confident on the ice now. Something tells Y/N that Harry is stupidly good at pretty much anything and if he doesn’t get it right the first time it would only take a few more before he masters it.
“It changes almost every other day,” Y/N admits, biting down on her bottom lip - which causes Harry’s eyes to flicker down to her lips yet again. “Lately it’s been green,” she exclaims, as she speaks Harry’s gaze falls back to her eyes.
“Like my eyes?” Harry teases, batting his eyelashes.
There’s suddenly a group of teenagers in their way, causing their conversation to pause as they have to maneuver around the few bodies. Harry finds that he doesn’t struggle at all with the quick movements he has to make with his skates in order to get around them. He smiles to himself, proud of how fast he’s picked up skating again. Maybe he’ll try the little twirly spin around Y/N to impress her. Too bad she’s much more talented on skates and is picking up speed before making a quick turn and is now skating backwards in front of Harry with her eyes narrowed and a tight smile on her lips.
“Firstly, that was a poor set up to try and get a compliment out of me, I’ll just tell you that your eyes are very pretty,” Y/N states. Harry smiles at her words, those pesky butterflies back in his stomach once again. “And second, my favourite green is more like a dark, rich, forest green,” she explains, quickly looking over her shoulder as they turn the corner of the rink. Harry notices how effortlessly she picks up her skates and crosses them over each other to smoothly take the turn.
“Like a Christmas tree?” Harry wonders.
Y/N smiles and nods, “exactly, like a Christmas tree,” she says, a beat of silence between them before she asks, “what’s your favourite colour?”
“Pink,” Harry answers without missing a beat. It’s been his favourite for years now, since he was just a young lad.
“Like my lips?” Y/N teases, her voice dropping down into a low and soft tone that causes a fire to spark in the pit of Harry’s stomach. His eyes drop to her lips at the mention of them, which Y/N notices and smirks at him before she’s turning on her skates and facing forward again. They both don’t say anything as they skate around the other turn of the rink, avoiding an older couple that has slowed down in front of them. Y/N still has a smug look on her face when Harry glances to his left where she skates beside him. Obviously, yes, exactly like the shade of your lips, Harry thinks and wishes he had the guts to say aloud.
“More like,” Harry pauses and then smiles, “like the Pink Panther,” Harry jokes.
“You know what, fair enough,” Y/N chuckles and shrugs her shoulder.
The two of them continue to ask each other more random favourites, getting the basics down with favourite foods, favourite alcoholic drinks, and favourite word too, of course. In fact, they are just skating at a leisurely pace for quite some time. Y/N notices that the number of people on the rink dwindles down to a mere twenty and she lifts her Apple watch up, so it lights up and shows her the time. Bryant Park should be closing within an hour or two, depending if they’re on holiday hours yet, meaning that Harry and her have spent nearly two hours out on the ice together.
“I think it’s time you bust out some of those fancy figure skating moves,” Harry suddenly says unprovoked. Y/N furrows her brows and shakes her head, watching a young couple, just a few people ahead of them, holding hands, like how she wishes her and Harry could have been this entire time. But it’s too soon, she thinks.
“I don’t know,” Y/N mutters under her breath, her eyes still on the couple as they’re laughing together - much like how her and Harry have been. Did these strangers around them think they were a couple?
“Fine,” Harry huffs and starts to skate a bit faster to be a few strides ahead of Y/N before he comes to a wobbly stop a bit more into the middle of the rink out of everyone's way. Y/N comes to a much smoother stop in front of him. “I’ll give it a shot then, how hard can it be to spin around a few times.”
Famous last words, Y/N thinks as Harry tries to whip his body around to try and attempt to do a spin. She can already see how he’s lifting the toe of his left skate, the small ridges getting caught on the ice while his body is still trying to spin around. Y/N’s eyes widen as she suddenly tries to stop him, her hands just barely getting a hold of his arms before he can fall. But his weight is too much and her skates slip out from under her. A small screech escapes her mouth as the two of them begin their fall to the ice - for surprisingly the first time tonight. Harry turns them both so he gets the worst of the fall, moving Y/N so she falls more on top of him rather than on the ice. Y/N notices and quickly moves her hand to the back of his head to ensure he doesn’t smack it against the hard surface. Her fingers card through his hair, while her other hand is clenching into a fist around the fabric of his coat.
“Shit,” Harry groans as the bodies fall to the ice. Thankfully, he tries to sit up a bit during the fall, so he doesn’t hit his head but instead he feels immediately pain shot up his elbow and backside.
“Oh my god,” Y/N gasps, blinking several times as she takes in what had happened. “Are you okay? Are you hurt?” She asks Harry in a rush of words.
“I’m okay,” he nods, which causes Y/N to realize her hand is still brushing through his hair. She rubs his scalp a few times with her thumb before removing her hand and quickly lifting her body off of Harry’s. “I’ll probably have a bruised ass, but I guess that’s karma,” he tries to joke.
Y/N frowns and smacks his arm gently, “don’t pull that shit again, oh my god, I thought we were going to end our night in the ER.”
Harry chuckles and sits up, taking in how Y/N has sat up on her knees with both her hands resting on her thighs. Her hair is a bit of a mess and her eyes wide and wild with emotion - but otherwise she looks alright. Thankfully, Harry did good and kept her safe in their fall.
“Just need a few ice packs and maybe a joint before bed to ease the pain,” Harry says, only half joking.
“Wait,” Y/N’s eyebrows pinch together, “do you smoke weed?” She asks. To be honest, she couldn’t imagine Harry as some pothead. Not that there was a true look to a ‘pothead’ these days. Hell, she’s had her fair share of joints and edibles while in college. Even afterwards too, Sammy loved to roll a joint or two towards the end of their wine nights.
Harry shrugs and begins to get up from the ice slowly. “Not really. It makes me a bit sleepy, truthfully,” he tells her.
“I get that,” Y/N nods, “I don’t smoke often, but when I do, I typically fall asleep within the hour after smoking. It annoys the crap out of Sammy.” She tells Harry truthfully. Harry nods as well, only a little bit surprised to learn that Y/N didn’t say no to drugs in her youth. Not that he was judging, far from it really cause he had no room to judge, but he just simply didn’t imagine her consuming anything more than a bottle or two of wine.
The two of them get up off the ice now, finally getting back on their feet. A sigh leaves Y/N lips as she brushes her hands on her jeans. “I think you falling is our cue to get out of here,” she suggests, skating slowly backwards towards the doorway where the benches were.
“You’re probably right,” Harry agrees and begins to follow her, trying not to whine with his movements as a sharp pain stings his bottom with each stride of his skates.
Y/N leaves Harry to sit on the bench they had used before and goes over to unlock her locker and get her tote bag. Harry’s lucky no one stole his shoes he had just left under the bench with no care in the world, she thinks as she walks back over and sits beside him. She unties her skates and is slipping on her boots before Harry can even untie one of his skates. Y/N puts the guards on her skates and places them into her tote bag before turning to look at Harry, noticing the pained look in his face as he bends forward to work on the laces of his other skate.
“Did you need help?” She asks him.
“No,” Harry pauses to hiss in pain, “I’m fine,” he adds, but Y/N just rolls her eyes and scoots over on the bench till she’s nearly pressing right up against Harry’s side, leaning down in order to work on his laces.
Harry watches her nimble fingers untie and loosen the laces, noticing how her hair falls as she bends down further. A faint smell of roses hits him with the movement of her hair as she pushes it back away from her line of sight. Harry looks away, glancing around them to see if anyone’s watching them because from any other view it may look like Y/N is giving him-
“There you go,” Y/N says with a smile and sits up again. Harry looks at his skates to see them completely loosened and ready for him to slip off easily.
“Thanks,” Harry says quietly with a smile.
After Harry has his trusty not-so-white vans on, they walk over to return his rentals and make their way out of the ice rink area of Bryant Park. Harry notices the shops around the park, the painted white frames and clean windows were rather pleasing to look at while the inside glows with soft yellow lights. He wonders what they sell, but notices Y/N hiding a yawn behind her hand and decides it’s probably best they just head home. Also, his ass really did hurt with each step he took.
“Would you like to get a hot cocoa before we walk home?” Harry suggests, pointing to the small shack that was open and looks like it serves hot drinks and a few treats maybe.
“I would love that,” Y/N answers with a bright smile.
Her heart can’t help but burst at the thought that Harry knows her so well already. Not even a month of knowing one another and he already is so much better than Mark ever was. He would never go skating with her or buy her a nice warm drink afterwards either. It’s a good thing he’s not your boyfriend anymore, Y/N finds herself reminding herself, which causes her heart to pitter patter in her chest again. This time thinking about how maybe Harry could maybe be her boyfriend, one day.
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“Hi,” Y/N gives the small brunette at her front door a tight smile.
She’s almost thirty minutes later than Mark said she would be. But to be fair, the subway was later than usual on her way home so Y/N had only just gotten home ten minutes ago. She had texted Mark to let him know and relay the message to his assistant, but he didn’t answer, no surprise there. So, in hindsight it wasn’t the biggest deal that his pretty little assistant was late.
What the big deal was the way she just strolled into Y/N’s apartment and set the box of her things on the couch. Y/N is standing by her door still in disbelief, mouth hanging open and eyes wide at the girls behaviour. When she turns around and gives Y/N a funny look while pointing around at her Christmas decor.
“It looks like Mrs Claus threw up in here,” she says.
“Thanks,” Y/N mutters and walks over to where she stood by the couch. Mark’s assistant steps back, pulling out her phone and tapping away at the screen as she seems bored to be here. “I’ll go get Mark’s things,” Y/N says, but then just as she’s about to walk away her eyes catch something red near the top of the box of her things that Mark had packed up.
She pushes her favourite Eagles shirt out of the way and hooks one finger around the lacy red fabric. The Victoria’s Secret label sticks out of the barely there red thong that’s hanging off her index finger. Y/N doesn’t recognize the underwear, she thinks as her head begins to spin. How the fuck did a pair of woman's underwear get into this box of things Mark packed up? Why would he have a red thong at his apartment that wasn’t Y/N’s? What the actual fuck? Another round of questions are about to spew in Y/N’s head as her heart beats out of her chest but then suddenly Mark’s assistant is reaching for the lacy fabric and taking it out of Y/N’s grasp.
“Oh, those are mine. Must’ve slipped in by accident,” she stammers out the words. Y/N’s head is spinning, her heart is beating out of her chest, as she puts the pieces together.
“Really? A thong just slipped into the box?” Y/N urges, narrowing her eyes at the young brunette standing in her living room. “How long have you been fucking my boyfriend?” Y/N asks and raises her voice, the anger filling her whole body now.
“Ex boyfriend,” the brunette has the guts to utter out.
“Answer the damn question,” Y/N snaps back at her.
Her face is turning red, to match the stupid thong in her hands, “uh, it’s none of your business-”
“Just tell me!” Y/N shouts, feeling like she deserves some truth in this moment. Mark’s assistant visibly gulps, avoiding Y/N’s eyes and looks all around the room.
“Like, a few months,” she mutters under her breath, still not meeting Y/N’s burning gaze.
Her whole body is shaking with the anger coursing through her. She should have known. How could she be such an idiot? She thinks while shaking her head. Of course, Mark was cheating on her during the entirety of their relationship. They were only dating for four months, meaning that for at least half of it, he was busy screwing his fucking assistant - how unbelievably cliche of him, but also how unbelievably naive of her to not guess. Y/N brings a hand to her forehand and rubs at her temple as a headache begins.
“Can I just get Mark’s stuff and go-”
“Get. Out.” Y/N spits out the words, glaring at the brunette who has the audacity to be so nonchalant about being the other woman.
“What about his things?” Mark’s assistant all but winces out the words, her dark eyebrows pulling together.
“Tell Mark to eat a dick,” Y/N sneers, taking a step towards the girl which causes her to step back. She can’t deny the bit of joy she feels at the sight of fear in the girls eyes. “And get out of my apartment, now!” Y/N shouts at the woman.
“Whatever,” she mumbles, turning around and walking to the front door.
Y/N is hot on her heels, making sure to slam to door shut behind her. The moment she’s left to herself, her apartment falling silent around her, she feels the pain settle in. Mark cheated on her with his assistant that he then had the nerve to let come over to her apartment. The realization of how embarrassing this whole situation is hits her, along with the hurt too. Regardless if it was a mutual break up, being cheated on does not feel good. Y/N sniffles, bringing a hand to her mouth as she suddenly is holding back sobs. Tears fall down her cheeks while her brain runs wild thinking of how many times Mark could have fucked his assistant and then just waltzed into her apartment and then they-
Her thoughts are cut short as she’s bolting to her bathroom, throwing the door open and bending down in front of the toilet. She lifts the seat and empties her stomach into the bowl. After a moment she’s coughing, lifting her head out of the toilet and reaching for the lever to flush away any contents that were in her stomach. Y/N grabs the hand towel to her right and brings it to her mouth, wiping away the bit of drool at her lips.
Y/N can feel the vibration from her cell phone after a moment of sitting on the bathroom floor, zoned out on the shower and thinking about how stupid she could have been to trust Mark. She lets out a short sigh and reaches into her back pocket to find her buzzing phone. Her eyes roll on instinct of seeing Mark’s contact photo taking up her screen. A part of her wants to answer, to yell and to scream at him. But a bigger part of her feels sick to her stomach again and just tired, honestly. So, she ignores the call and opens her phone to her contacts and deletes Mark all together. She goes into her photos and does a quick sweep of any photos of them together. It was something she was going to do eventually anyways, but after the news of him being a cheating piece of shit she couldn’t waste another second before getting rid of anything involving Mark.
Mark is a fucking asshole. His precious little assistant came by to drop off my few things and one of her thongs was in the box, so she spilled the beans that she had been sleeping with Mark for months. Meaning that piece of absolute trash was cheating on me like the entire time we were together. Y/N types out the message to Sammy, making sure that he knows the drama first - but also just simply because he’s her best friend.
Sammy is typing back a response as Y/N stands up from her spot by the toilet, flushing it again due to her spitting a few times into the bowl, and then she quickly washes her hands and looks up at her reflection in the mirror. Her eyes are red, her hairs a bit frizzy and out of place from the perfect curls she had earlier today, and her makeup is ruined. She decides to wash her face, drying it with a clean towel as her phone vibrates on the counter.
Are you fucking kidding me?! I’m going to kill him. Please tell me we have a murder plan, I know where we can hide the body. Did you want to talk about it? I can come over and bring a big bottle of tequila? Sammy sends each sentence as a separate text, adding a few choice emojis too. The knife is used many times. His enthusiasm makes Y/N chuckle but then she’s frowning again while walking out of the bathroom and to her bedroom.
Honestly, I just want to curl up in bed and cry it out some more while listening to some sad music. But I’ll keep you updated on any murder plans I think up. Y/N sends back her texts before throwing her phone down on her bed.
Letting out another sigh, Y/N strips out of her tight fitting pants and puts on a pair of grey sweatpants. Next, she takes off the collared button up shirt she had worn tucked into her pants today, hanging it back up in her closet to prevent it from getting wrinkled. Her eyes wander around her bedroom, a certain article of clothing was on her mind to put on and snuggle into bed with. Y/N smiles as she sees Harry’s black hoodie on the top of her laundry hamper. To be honest, it needed to be washed, but she needed the comfort of his oversized clothing more. So, she tugs it on, puts her hair into a messy topknot bun, and tugs down the hood before lifting the blanket and getting into bed.
Not even three songs into her ‘depressed? yeah, me too’ playlist of sad songs, there was a knock on Y/N’s front door. At first she thinks of ignoring whoever it is, but then her music is cut off as a phone call comes through. It’s Mark’s number, regardless that she just deleted his contact, she still knew his phone number. Y/N groans and gets out of bed. Her heart is pounding in her chest as she imagines Mark or that little assistant of his having the balls to come to her apartment again and demand for his few things he had left around here. Y/N narrows her eyes and unlocks her door, ready to glare at her sad excuse for an ex boyfriend - but her face instantly softens at the sight of Harry standing there.
“Nice jumper,” Harry comments. A smile on his lips as he takes in how Y/N looks in his clothing, days after he had lent it to her. But that smile vanishes when he notices the redness in her eyes and her pouting lips. “What’s wrong?” Harry asks, his voice full of worry as he fights back reaching for her and bringing her in for a hug.
Y/N sniffles, “um, I thought you were Mark, sorry,” she says in a quiet voice.
“Oh, sorry, is he coming over?” Harry questions. Suppose it made more sense for her boyfriend to comfort her during a bad day, he thinks although it tears him up inside that it can’t be him.
“No, no, he’s in Arizona, or somewhere. I don’t even know,” Y/N sighs, her voice sounding brittle, like it’s about to crack at any second, as she tries to keep herself composed in front of Harry. “I don’t really care actually, we broke up,” she reveals, her gaze down at the floor. Harry’s wearing those dirty white vans again, she wonders if he wears anything else.
They broke up, holy shit don’t freak out Styles, keep it together, Harry’s thoughts are all jumbled up at the news of Y/N and her boyfriends break up, which she is clearly very upset over, judging by her appearance and how she’s sniffling every second - bringing the sleeve of his Columbia jumper to her face to wipe her nose. Harry frowns and adjusts his weight from one foot to the other.
“I’m sorry to hear that, Y/N,” Harry says softly, “break ups can really suck,” he adds - knowing from experience just how terrible break ups can leave a person feeling.
“Yeah,” Y/N breathes out and looks up at Harry now, “but he’s kind of a trash human so it’s for the best, honestly,” she tells him, letting out a breathy chuckle while shaking her head. She shouldn’t be crying so damn much over the guy, she thinks.
“Oh, well then, fuck that guy,” Harry agrees with a nod of his head.
Y/N lets out a genuine chuckle at his words. She brings a hand, that is covered by the cuff of Harry’s hoodie, to her forehead to swipe back any crazy wispy hairs that are in her face. “So, what brought you to knock on my door?” She asks, smiling as Harry realizes he had gotten distracted by her state and forgot why he knocked at all.
“Right,” Harry chuckles, “um, a few friends of mine are in this band, it’s nothing crazy they just play at the pub a few blocks away. And I was wondering if you weren’t busy if you wanted to come with, thought it could be fun. But if you’re not in the mood to leave your home I understand,” Harry explains to her.
“No, I would love to come with,” Y/N insists. She lets out another chuckle and motions to her current appearance. “Just not looking like this, and as long as you promise there will be liquor involved in this Saturday night out.”
“I’ll buy you as many drinks as you need,” Harry promises with a smile.
“Then count me in,” Y/N says, mirroring his big dimpled smile. “Just give me some time to get ready?”
“You’ve got plenty of time, we don’t have to leave for another hour and a half,” he tells her. “I’ll let you get to it,” he adds, throwing a thumb over his shoulder as he takes a step away from her doorway.
“Oh, I’ll wash the sweater and give it to you soon, by the way,” Y/N says, lifting both her arms before letting them fall to her sides. Harry just shrugs his shoulders and shakes his head.
“Keep it as long as you need, it’s no problem, honestly,” Harry tells her while flashing a grin her way, hoping that it makes her feel even a little bit better. And it does, his casual response to her wearing his hoodie and then those dimples - it had her stomach fluttering. She gives Harry a small timid smile, tucking her chin down slightly into the collar of the hoodie as she watches his walk backwards down the hall to his door. “I’ll come knocking again in a bit,” Harry adds before he’s out of her sight and she’s closing her front door shut once again.
Y/N absentmindedly brings her hand to her mouth, biting on her nails as she stares off at her Christmas tree - though the lights are blurry due to her zoning out. You can do this, Y/N thinks and begins to give herself a pep talk of getting out of the sad break up phase and going out with Harry and his friends. Oh my god, Y/N’s eyes widen at her thoughts, what am I going to wear?
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Y/N felt overdressed.
After twenty minutes of ripping apart her closet and tearing items out of her dresser drawers, she was truly tempted to just keep on Harry’s hoodie, pair it with some good jeans and some red heeled boots and call it a day. But that would be weird, showing up to hang out and meet Harry’s friends while dressed in his clothing. She was sure they were already going to assume things with him just bringing her along. Y/N didn’t need them thinking they had sex before too.
The thought had made Y/N blush like crazy as she tore off the stupidly comfortable hoodie and grabbed a silky white top that plunged low in the neckline, tying off just at her belly button, and then had long flowy sleeves. Pairing this with her trusted pair of light blue jeans, and for accessories: some chunky gold hoop earrings and layered gold necklaces to fill up the amount of skin she was showing at her chest. To top it all off, she slipped into her go-to black Balenciaga boots and long brown jacket to keep warm. After heading into the bathroom quickly, she brushed her hair through again and restyled the curls, put on a touch of light makeup, and then made sure to stick her lip gloss in her small black purse just as Harry was knocking on her door again.
Harry was dressed in a grey t-shirt with a large yellow smiley face, brown trousers and a blue and cream plaid jacket that quite literally made chills wash over Y/N’s body when she saw the whole fit - but that jacket, it made her head spin with some rather inappropriate thoughts. She’s a fashion major, can’t blame her for thinking clothing can make someone even more attractive. But even then she should have gotten the vibe of this evening and changed into something more casual.
But she didn’t, so now as she’s walking into a dive bar a few blocks away from the apartment building, she feels very out of place. Everyone’s wearing t-shirts and jeans, it smelt like cheap beer and cigarettes, and was definitely not the place to wear a silky white top that cost about five-hundred-dollars.
“You alright?” Harry's voice is soft and closer, as he steps directly behind Y/N after walking into the bar.
He notices how she crossed her arms at her chest and seemed to tense up almost immediately after walking in. Y/N shivers at the feeling of Harry’s breath falling over her exposed neck, having pushed her hair to lay on her left shoulder while he stood over her right. Y/N is still looking around the bar, trying to put together who may be Harry’s group of friends in this crowded bar.
“Y/N?” Harry tries again, this time placing a delicate hand on the small of her back - barely touching her, that he’s not even sure she’s noticed through her thick jacket. But she does, and she feels dizzy at the sweet gesture.
“Yeah,” she sighs, blinking a few times before looking to her right shoulder at Harry. He’s lips are so close, she thinks while trying her best to keep her eyes on his eyes. “Just feeling a little overdressed,” Y/N admits with a tight smile.
Harry shakes his head, “you look fine, better than fine actually. You look amazing,” Harry watches as Y/N’s eyes flicker to his lips for just a split second. He smiles but clears his throat, finding that they’re both blushing at his comment now. “As any FIT student in New York City should, of course,” he adds on to try and make his compliment a little less obvious.
“Thanks, Harry,” Y/N smiles.
When Harry saw Y/N for the second time that evening, it was like day and night from the hour before when she answered her door in his hoodie. She looked incredible, and was so out of his league. Dressed like she was going to a photoshoot, hair flowing down her back perfectly, and accessories that made him visibly gulp - he was a sucker for some gold jewelry on a girl, it was a weird weakness of his. And now, standing in the dim lighting of this dingy dive bar, she did look a little out of place, but in the best way possible, like she shined too bright to be in just a dark and depressing place.
“This way,” Harry says, leading the way to where he notices his friends are sitting at a table. They thankfully got his texts about him bringing Y/N with him and had two seats open for the both of them.
“Should we stop at the bar and get a drink?” Y/N asks. She’s honestly unsure how the service works at a place like this. To be honest, she hadn’t been in too many dive bars in her years.
Harry stops, looks behind him at her, and shakes his head. “We have a waitress that works basically every night my friends play, so she’ll come by and get our drinks for us,” he explains to Y/N. She nods, giving him a tight smile, and Harry can’t help but notice how she’s still got her arms crossed at her chest. Is she uncomfortable here? Maybe he can make some shit excuse after the first few songs and get her home.
Harry notices as he’s turned towards Y/N just how much attention is on her. He’s not surprised, seeing how he already realized how much she sticks out in a place like this, but he doesn’t quite enjoy seeing every male’s - and a few girls too - eyes in this place on the girl he’s brought with him. So, he makes the quick decision of holding out his hand for Y/N to take. She looks at Harry’s outstretched hand and feels her breath get caught in her throat. Playing it off, she smiles and reaches forward, watching as his much larger hand envelopes hers and tugs gently to get them moving again. Y/N’s stomach is already full of butterflies and her head is spinning at them holding hands for all of ninety seconds it takes to get to his table full of friends - she needs a drink, stat.
Harry lets go of Y/N’s hand as he approaches his friend's usual table and has to bring his arms up in order to hug Adam, who’s throwing himself into Harry at the sight of him. Harry huffs out a laugh, making a comment about how drunk Adam must be already, to which he responds by smacking Harry’s back a few times and laughing with him. Y/N can’t help it as the corners of her lips turn up into a small smile at the sight of Harry engulfed in a hug by a man bigger than him. As she’s watching their interaction, she notices how everyone else is watching her. Y/N’s smile falls right away and she finds herself crossing her arms at her chest again.
“Everyone,” Harry speaks a bit louder in order to get everyone's attention as he turns around and holds his arm out to Y/N, which she takes as her singal to step forward for an introduction and smiles timidly at the group of four others at the table. “This is Y/N, Y/N, this is everyone,” Harry announces, smiling at his friends - catching Mitch’s smug look in return.
“Hi,” Y/N says, her voice that soft and gentle tone that he had grown to like, quite a lot, actually.
“I’m Tom,” he’s the first to speak up, offering a hand to Y/N to shake, which she turns just a bit to her left in order to properly greet Harry’s friend. Tom’s got bleached hair that’s not styled and laying flat on his forehead, his roots are a dark brown that match the mustache and bit of bread he’s got. Y/N notices the few different necklaces around his neck while he’s wearing a simple outfit of a black long sleeve and black jeans.
“Jenny,” the woman sitting to Tom's left reaches over the table in order to shake Y/N’s hand. She’s also got bleached hair, and a dazzling smile too. Y/N notices the equally dazzling ring on her finger and she glances down at Tom’s hands to see a wedding band, assuming they are married due to them sitting so closely.
“Mitch,” a long haired young man speaks up just as Y/N and Jenny drop their hands. Y/N meets his gaze and blinks a few times, feeling slightly intimidated by him. Regardless of how he seems like the scrawniest at the table, his eyes just sort of bring Y/N to a stop, but she recovers swiftly and gives him a smile, returning the wave he gives her as it’s too far of a reach to shake hands. Mitch raises a brow at Harry, to which Harry is quick to return. Catching the interaction, Y/N imagines they are the closest of the group. Suppose he’s just a bit protective of his friend bringing a random girl around, Y/N thinks to herself before her attention is grasped by the last person sitting at the table.
“And I’m Adam, the only name you need to remember, obviously,” says the man who had hugged Harry upon their arrival. He’s smiling so widely there’s crinkles near his eyes, which make Y/N feel all warm inside as she stares into his big brown eyes. He’s got a full bread, like Mitch, and matching brown hair that looks like it may need a bit of a trim but he styles it well. Y/N likes his button up shirt that’s a dark navy with little white stars all around it, paired with some plain black jeans.
“It’s really lovely to meet you all,” Y/N says after shaking Adam’s hand, “thank you for letting me come crash your night,” she adds with another timid smile.
“Nonsense, it’s nothing special,” Jenny assures her, waving her hand too before wrapping it around her half full glass of what Y/N assumed was alcohol - or hoped, because she really didn’t want to be the only one drinking tonight.
“Ouch,” Adam scoffs jokingly, “guess your husbands best mates playing is nothing special then, huh?”
“Yeah, I’m hurt, Jenny,” Mitch nods, bringing his glass up to his lips to take a sip of the dark yellow foaming liquid in his tall glass - beer, okay, sweet, so we’re all drinking, good, Y/N thinks. She also notices that Mitch is the only one with an American accent. She wonders how this group all became friends, being from different parts of the world, where did they all connect?
Harry chuckles and shakes his head at his friends, looking to Y/N to find her smiling at his mates too. He places a hand on her elbow, causing her to look at him. He nods his head to the open seats on the other side of the table for them. Y/N rolls her lips into her mouth and begins to walk around the table, stepping behind Tom and Jenny’s chairs before stopping at the first one on Jenny’s right. Y/N catches Mitch’s stare, now ignoring the conversation at the table to instead watch Harry and her, but she’s quick to look away from his intense gaze and focus on taking her jacket off. Just as she tosses her jacket over the back of her chair, fixing her top in a discreet manner too, a red headed woman steps up in between her and Harry who is also slipping out of his jacket.
“Hey, Harry,” the woman greets him in a sultry tone. If Harry notices the obvious show she puts into her voice, he doesn’t act like it.
“Hey, Amy,” he says quickly, looking at his chair as he pulls it out and takes a seat.
“Running a bit behind your friends tonight, huh? What took you so long?” She asks. Seems she's rather observant of Harry’s presence, Y/N thinks, while she takes her seat and looks anywhere but to her right where the red head - fake red dye too, it was so obvious - back was mere inches away from her.
“I love your top, it’s so stylish,” Jenny comments, causing Y/N to look to her left at Jenny’s dazzling smile again.
“Thank you,” Y/N says, “this may not be the place to wear it, seems more like a casual band tee kind of place,” she notes, narrowing her eyes while looking around at the bar around them. Noticing now just how many neon signs there were in the dark space. The biggest was on the wall behind the small stage, which every table was facing. The bar was at the back of the bar and there were booths lining the wall closest to the door, then a couple of pool tables and gambling machines in the far right of the bar. Y/N had spent too much time in high maintenance bougie bars to find any of this remotely normal - but she didn’t hate it.
“Rubbish, you look hot, definitely got people in here questioning their wardrobe,” Jenny states, gaining Y/N’s attention again, “hell, next time I’m stepping it up to match this energy,” she adds, waving her hands at Y/N’s outfit. 
Y/N chuckles and shakes her head, “well thanks, but you look incredible already! There’s no need.”
“Y/N,” Harry interrupts the girls suddenly.
Y/N lets out a small breath before turning to face what she’s been ignoring. The flirtatious red head and Mitch’s strong stare. Y/N raises her eyebrows at Harry. She completely ignores how the waitress now stood facing both their chairs, but she did notice how her hand was resting on the back of Harry’s.
“What are you drinking tonight?” Harry asks her, lips turning up into a smile. He can’t help himself, he finds himself smiling so much around her he’s sure he has wrinkles already.
“Oh,” Y/N says, finally looking at the waitress now. Her dark makeup made her blue eyes pop, it was a bit smudged but Y/N assumes she’s too busy working to notice. The waitress, Amy - Y/N reads her name tag, pinned on her tight black v neck shirt that has the bar's name on it - is staring at her, clearly forcing a smile while waiting for Y/N’s answer. “I’ll have tequila and soda water, bring a few lime slices on the side too,” Y/N orders, knowing exactly how Upper East Side she sounds, “please,” she adds with a forced smile that she mirrors from Amy.
“Coming right up,” Amy nods before turning away, not without a lingering gaze on Harry though.
Her obvious fake customer voice was rather annoying, Y/N thinks as her eyes follow her walking back to the bar. She takes note of the crowd around the bar, many waving at the one bartender stationed behind the bar. He looks older and is struggling to keep up with the rush of people. When Y/N turns back around, to face the table again, she catches Harry eyes on her. She scrunches up her nose at him and he chuckles before their attention is taken away by Adam’s deep voice.
“So, Y/N, you're this bloke’s neighbour, huh?” He questions, nodding his head to Harry. Y/N smiles and nods, sitting back in her chair while folding her hands between her thighs.
“Yeah, we just met in passing and ended up becoming friends,” she states, catching Harry nodding in the corner of her eye while he rests an arm on the table and faces towards her as he leans slightly into Mitch. To which Mitch responds by pushing his shoulder gently, making Harry’s smile widen at how he manages to bother his friend so easily.
“Give us the tea. How shit of a neighbour is he?” Adam asks, causing everyone at the table to chuckle.
“Hey,” Harry playfully whines at his friends.
“He’s fine, great even,” Y/N tells them, earning another smile from Harry as he watches her.
“Surprising considering he’s a shit roommate,” Mitch comments after taking another long sip of his beer. Harry turns in his chair and glares at Mitch, earning a smirk from him in return.
“I am not,” Harry grumbles.
“When were you two roommates?” Y/N asks, finding herself bringing a hand up to adjust her necklaces. Anything to keep her nervous hands busy. Suppose making new friends wasn’t her biggest strength, it was a rather nerve wracking experience to be honest.
“We just room together when we travel for any work stuff,” Harry answers, meeting her eyes for only a brief second before he’s looking back at Mitch. “Mitch here just likes his beauty sleep, while I have a pretty set morning routine I like to stick to,” Harry explains, looking back at Y/N as he finishes talking.
“Yeah, that starts at like six in the morning like a crazy person,” Mitch huffs jokingly.
“Six is way too early,” Y/N agrees, nodding along with Mitch. “At least give the man till nine,” she adds.
“He’s just being dramatic,” Harry states. Mitch mumbles something under his breath before taking another sip of his beer. Sounded a bit like “say’s the drama queen himself” but Y/N isn’t sure. Regardless, the interaction makes her smile. Just as she’s about to make another comment, Amy returns with hers and Harry’s drinks. Setting his down first with a smile before turning to Y/N and placing the glass of tequila and a small dish of limes too.
“Thank you,” Y/N says. Doesn’t matter if she thought Amy had an attitude problem, Y/N had manners.
“Anything else for the table? Another refill for you boys before you head up on stage?” Amy asks, ignoring Y/N completely and instead turning her back on her and looking at Mitch and Adam. Y/N notices how she leans her body into Harry a bit, her arm resting on the back of his chair again. If Harry notices, he’s oblivious to her motives. It almost makes Y/N laugh at how Harry’s ignoring her. 
“Please,” Mitch nods, lifting his glass to finish off the rest of his beer. Y/N tries to hide her facial expression as she is impressed with how Mitch manages to gulp down the beer so fast, instead bringing her focus to her own drink - which she was looking forward to downing herself honestly.
She picks up a lime wedge and squeezes it over her glass, watching the juices squirt out and into her glass. After she stirs it with her straw, she brings it to her lips and gulps back nearly half of it. Y/N suddenly feels her phone buzzing in her jean pocket. She sits up slightly in order to slide it out of her pocket and looks at the screen. It’s Mark’s number again. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she declines the call and sets her phone screen down on the table before grabbing ahold of her drink again and having another sip. He sure has some nerve to continue to call numerous times, Y/N thinks as she zones out from whatever Harry and his friends were talking about.
“Y/N grew up in the city, actually,” Harry states. Y/N raises her eyebrows and looks around the table to see everyone’s looking at her now. She’s missed what they were talking about prior so she just spit balls it here and smiles.
“Um, yeah, born and raised,” she nods, “I noticed you all have quite a jumble of accents, where are you all from?” Y/N asks, looking towards Tom and Jenny as they begin to explain where they were separately from before meeting in London.
Harry watches Y/N while his friends speak, mostly because he already knows everything there is about their lives, but also because he likes watching Y/N. Taking in her small mannerisms like how she talks with her hands quite a lot, and how she rubs her ankles together under the table as she listens to Adam talk about his wife and kids back home. They all chat amongst themselves, making jokes and laughing too, for nearly thirty minute before Mitch and Adam are whisked away to the stage. Harry feels his chest bursting as he sits back and watches Y/N interact with his friends as if they are her own. He smiles when she looks his way, her cheeks howling as she sucks on the straw of her second drink - nearly finishing it while staring at him. Harry has to break the gaze as his thoughts run a different less innocent route, causing him to readjust how he’s sitting and clearing his throat just as the lead singer of the band introduces them.
“So, why aren’t you in the band?” Y/N asks as the beginning chords of their opening song play out. She’s leaning her elbow on the table, resting her head in the palm of her hand while turning her head to Harry - shutting out Jenny and Tom completely but they’re too busy watching the band to care.
“Bold of you to assume I have enough talent to be in a band,” Harry says with a smirk. Y/N rolls her eyes and reaches for her glass, bringing the straw between her lips and finishing off the tequila and soda water with three squeezed lime slices in it - Harry watched her prepare her drink both times, finding himself intrigued by her drink of choice.
“You are definitely talented enough,” Y/N says, “from the bit I’ve heard through the walls, you’re great with a guitar and I’m assuming I’m right considering that your job revolves around music.”
“Well, they already have a guitar player,” Harry notes, nodding his head towards Mitch who’s strumming away on his guitar. “And he’s one of the best in the business so if I did have any talent, he wipes me out without a question,” Harry insists.
Y/N is about to respond but then the band is starting to really get into the song. She turns her head, sitting up straight again, and watches the band perform. They’re really good, she thinks and starts to bob her head along to the song. Harry tries to not be obvious, but he stares at her for a few moments before facing the stage to watch his mates as well. He smiles as he watches her get into the music, nodding along with the bass line and tapping her foot to the drums. They’re performing one of Harry’s songs. He had written it a couple years back when he had finally settled into New York, hence the title ‘Ever Since New York’. He didn’t sell the song to any big artist, instead he kept it within his personal folder and when Mitch asked if his and Adam’s band could borrow it Harry said yes. It was one of the few personal songs he would let his friends borrow, others were too much of him to let someone else sing.
Y/N is seriously enjoying herself. The tequila has hit her, settling into her body with a constant buzz, and this band was so good. She’s shamelessly swaying her body in her chair and nodding her head back and forth with the beat. To be fair, so was everyone else at the table. Jenny matched her energy perfectly, even throwing an arm around her shoulders as the course of their third song picked up - Jenny knew the lyrics and sang along, causing the two of them to erupt into laughter afterwards. After Jenny turns her attention back to her husband, Y/N looks at Harry and notices him lightly singing along while bobbing his head too. She smiles and ends up watching him instead of the band for maybe a little too long. He turns his head and catches her stare, raising a brow but she just shakes her head and leans closer to him to ensure he can hear her before speaking.
“They’re really good,” she compliments, “like a lot better than some of the mainstream artists I’ve seen recently,” she adds on just as the band finishes up another song.
“Yeah, they are,” Harry nods in agreement, “but the bands really just a hobby for all of them since they are all involved within the industry already.”
“Oh, that’s sick though,” Y/N says, “not everyone’s hobby includes filling up a dive bar in New York City every weekend with people singing along to your songs,” she exclaims. She had looked around the room earlier during the last song to see it wasn’t just the bandmates' friends that knew the words to their songs. Majority of the people in the bar were singing too, clearly being regulars to their sets.
Amy arrives at their table again, setting down everyone's refills in a rush, thankfully being too busy to stop and flirt with Harry. Is that jealousy, Y/N? She questions herself in her head. She ignores her thoughts and brings her new drink to her lips, not even bothering with the lime slices this time as she’s feeling a bit drunk now and honestly could care less. As the band opens their next song with some strong drums and an incredible electric guitar melody, the crowd goes a bit crazy. Y/N furrows her brows and looks at the people at her table, Tom and Jenny are also hollering at the band while Harry is chuckling. He meets her eyes before echoing the crowd and cheering on his friends. Y/N’s eyes widen and she huffs out a laugh before she grabs her phone quickly and opens her Instagram.
Just in time, she opens her Instagram stories as the song picks up and the small crowd that had formed overtime at the front of the stage starts to dance around. Everyone is cheering and singing along, causing Y/N’s jaw to drop in pure amazement. She holds down the button to record and gets a quick ten second video of the band rocking out while the bar sings and goes nuts as the bass line played by Adam kicks in and their drummer flings his body around to play one of the most addicting beats they’ve played so far. Y/N shakes her head and swipes a filter on before tapping on the screen, turning to face Harry - who’s already watching her, of course.
“Does the band have an Instagram?” She asks. To which Harry just shrugs in response, because he really isn’t too sure - he’s not hugely into social media himself.
“They do!” Jenny says with excitement, Y/N turns in her seat and grins at Jenny as she spells out the bands Instagram handle. “I keep trying to get them to stay active on it but they barely do,” she states.
Y/N slips her drink that she holds in one hand and taps ‘post to story’ on her phone that in her other hand. “Well, they might get, like, a few notifications flood in since I tagged them in my story,” Y/N tells her.
“Oh yeah?” Jenny questions. “Are you big on Insta?”
“It’s kind of grown over the years, I just hit half a million last week actually,” Y/N states. Her words cause both Jenny and Tom’s jaws to drop. Suppose it’s quite a big number, Y/N thinks.
“That’s insane, oh my god,” Jenny says, “is social media like your job then?” She asks. Y/N notices how both Tom and Harry are more interested in hearing about her Instagram than the band’s next song, to be fair it is a slower tune, but still it shocks her a bit.
“Um, not really,” Y/N licks her lips, “I have a career at a fashion studio in the city, we style the city’s elite and some celebrities, do their personal shopping and all that. But the social media thing is really just a little add on, I guess,” Y/N explains, pausing a few times as she feels a bit nervous telling them about her following. Some people saw it as a clout thing, asking for shoutouts and tags so her followers would get their follower count up. While others thought it was childish and weird that she was kind of like an influencer in a way.
“Wow,” Harry says, his voice gets Y/N’s attention as she looks towards him now, “how didn’t I know this?” He questions with a chuckle.
“I don’t know,” Y/N shrugs, “it’s really just like a hobby, barely even that.”
“Like how the band is for Mitch and Adam,” Harry nods.
Y/N smiles and nods with him, “exactly.”
“You’re definitely the coolest girl Harry knows, by the way,” Jenny states, bringing Y/N’s attention back to her left where she sat. Y/N laughs and brushes her hair back over her shoulders.
“I don’t know about that,” Y/N disagrees and shakes her head, reaching for her drink again to take a few sips.
“No, you definitely are,” Harry corrects her, having a sip of his own drink as well. Y/N puts down her glass and smiles, shrugging her shoulders and leaning back into her seat.
“I mean, if you say so,” she says in a joking tone. Jenny, Tom and Harry all chuckle, which makes Y/N laugh along with them. The band is talking to the crowd now, mentioning that their weekly gig will not be happening next week due to the holidays. Then they’re explaining something about their next and final song, thanking the crowd before the song starts up.
“This was their first song as a band,” Tom tells Y/N. She smiles and nods, appreciating the insight from him.
The song is catchy, still fitting the bands vibe but definitely isn’t as good as some of the other songs they had played already. Y/N decides to take a final snap of the band on stage on her Instagram story. Mitch’s head is down, his hair falling forward that she can barely tell that it’s him, while Adam is grinning at the crowd which makes Y/N smile as she swipes on a filter to lighten the picture some and types out ‘new fave band alert’ as her caption, finding a red siren gif quickly before posting it to her story. As the song comes to an end the bar erupts into a roar of cheers. Y/N brings her hands to her mouth and hollers along with the bar, grinning as she watches the four boys of the band come together and bow. As they bend down Harry whistles, having both his hands at his mouth, to show his support to his friends.
Y/N widens her eyes and turns quickly to look at Harry, surprised by the loud whistle that came from him. He matches her look, widening his eyes and playing dumb as he slowly lowers his hands from his face. Y/N laughs, slapping a hand on his arm and leaning back, immensely entertained by his actions. Harry laughs along with Y/N till they both calm down and shake their heads. Just as Y/N is about to say something her phone starts to buzz on the table from an incoming call. She looks down at the screen and sees it’s Mark - again.
“Ugh,” Y/N groans and hits decline, unlocking her phone to go to her phone app. “How the hell do you block a phone number?” She asks aloud to no one in particular.
“Is it Mark?” Harry questions in a low voice, leaning towards Y/N to keep his words between them. Y/N frowns but nods her head once. The tequila in her system starts to mess with her, her screen becoming fuzzy as she thinks about all the crap she learnt about Mark earlier today. And now he was ruining her fun out with Harry and his friends.
“Where’s the bathroom?” Y/N asks, turning to Jenny since she would know the location of the women's bathroom over Harry.
“Down the hall in the back corner over there,” she points in that direction and before anyone else can say something Y/N is on her feet with her phone in hand and heading to the bathroom.
Harry looks over his shoulder as he monitors Y/N’s move across the bar. He’s worried about her, obviously, but he’s also watching to make sure no douche bag makes a grab for her. Although he is sure that she could handle it herself. As he turns back to the table he sees both Tom and Jenny staring at him. Harry furrows his brows and brings his drink to his lips, having the final sip of his third drink tonight. Jenny just shakes her head and looks down at her phone, he’s pretty sure she’s looking up Y/N’s Instagram. Tom’s still staring at Harry though.
“What?” Harry finally asks, setting his glass down with the few other empty ones at the centre of the table.
“So,” Tom pauses, “what’s going on here?” He questions, being annoyingly vague.
“What do you mean?” Harry asks, trying his hardest to not roll his eyes.
“Well you just show up with this bombshell of a woman, who is beyond anything you could’ve described her as by the way, and we’re all just supposed to forget she’s in a relationship?” Tom questions, tilting his head just slightly to the side as he stares down Harry.
“Firstly, I’m insulted you don’t think we could just be friends,” Harry says, he’s about to continue but Mitch and Adam join the table again. They get a round of ‘good job’ from everyone before Mitch is turning to Harry and furrowing his brows.
“What were you saying before?” He asks.
“That it is just possible for Y/N and I to be friends, but also not that it’s any of your guys business cause it’s not even mine, but her and her boyfriend broke up, like, recently,” Harry informs his friends, dragging his fingertip along the condensation of his empty glass in front of him. He feels silly, having to explain himself for simply bringing along a friend to hangout tonight. But he can’t deny it feels good to know that she is single now. Only to feel bad a second later as he knows that Y/N must be hurting, judging by her drowning herself in tequila drinks and getting upset over Mark calling her.
“Well, shit,” Mitch breathes out. Harry lifts his gaze to find his best mate with his usual smug look on his face. “What are you waiting for then, loverboy, make a move,” Mitch coaxes him.
“Did you not hear me when I said they broke up recently? As in maybe I should just let that settle for a while before I try and make any sort of move,” Harry says.
“Well if you don’t eventually and you let this one go, then you’re a bloody idiot,” Adam resorts, “Y/N is a prize, one evening knowing her and I understand your little crush, H,” he adds with a smile.
“Trust me,” Harry huffs out a breath and shakes his head a bit, “I’m well aware. But seriously guys, I’m just going to let it play out and not force anything. I’m happy to just be her friend, honestly,” he explains. Everyone nods, seeming to understand where Harry is at now with Y/N. Perfect timing, Amy shows up with refills for everyone to get the attention of the group off Harry.
“So, Harry,” Amy says after setting down everyone glasses, turning her body away from Jenny and the empty chair for Y/N to completely face him - her boobs practically in his face. He gives her a polite smile, leaning back in his chair in order to get some distance from her. “Who’s this new girl you brought with you? A cousin or something?” She asks, her body seeming to lean even further towards him as she speaks.
Harry opens his mouth, ready to let Amy know her ridiculous assumptions were wrong. When he hears Y/N’s voice from behind where Amy stood. “Classy,” she mutters under her breath.
Amy rolls her eyes rather dramatically before she turns away from Harry and looks at Y/N as she’s pulling out her chair and returning to her seat. “What did you say?” Amy asks, her voice rather snarky in Y/N’s opinion.
“I said, wow you’re hair colour, it’s like, so classy, I love it,” Y/N resorts, putting on a smile just as fake as her words.
Amy’s lips part, her eyes narrowing at Y/N’s bored stare. Whatever bitchy response she has lined up for Y/N is cut short as Amy’s name is being yelled by the bartender. Her gaze falls behind Y/N, looking at who had called for her, before she meets Y/N’s eyes again. She glares again, huffs out a short breath, and then is nearly stomping away from the table like a child who didn’t get the Barbie doll she wanted to play with - or rather the Ken doll. Y/N’s lips turn up slightly into a smug smile as a feeling of pride flushes over her.
“Yup, it’s official,” Jenny says, bringing Y/N back to reality as she looks away to her left. Jenny is grinning as she brings an arm around Y/N’s shoulder, pulling her into her side. “You’re one hundred percent the coolest girl Harry knows,” she states, earning a round of laughter from the group.
“You handled Amy like a pro,” Adam notes, then jutting his chin towards Harry, “H is always too nice to let her know how annoying she’s being.”
Y/N smiles and looks at Harry in the corner of her eye, noticing the slight tint of pink upon his cheeks. She flips her hair over her shoulder and shrugs, “I grew up dealing with the snobby Upper East Side kids, Amy is harmless, believe me,” Y/N ensures the group before grabbing for her drink and sucking back a few good gulps.
The group around the table begins to talk about the performance, compliments and praises to Mitch and Adam all around of course. Even a few strangers come up to give them a pat on the back and ask for a picture. They’re like royalty in this dingy little bar.
Y/N is enjoying sitting back and simply being around people, letting herself push away any thoughts of Mark. She had blocked his number while she waited in line for the washroom, then responded to Sammy’s million texts asking where she was and with who - when she told him she was with Harry he just replied with ‘#TeamHarry for the win’, which she rolled her eyes at but ended up smiling down at her phone and texting him a thumbs up back.
When Y/N finished with her business in the rather dirty washroom - the sink barely even worked, it was not ideal - and she saw Amy at the table beside Harry again, Y/N let her jealousy fly. Then when Amy started leaning so far into Harry that her boobs nearly touched his chest, Y/N just couldn’t help it. It was like her vision turned red suddenly, her chest swelling up as she tried to bite down on her tongue. But she couldn’t, she was too annoyed by Amy’s less than classy actions towards her customer.
“Hey,” Harry’s low voice snaps Y/N out of her own world. She blinks and focuses on him, feeling herself melt at the sight of his smile. “Are you okay?” He asks, more than likely referring to her quick departure to the bathroom after Mark called.
“Yeah,” she assures him with a smile and a nod. “I blocked his number, I don’t want to hear his excuses. I could really care less,” she explains to Harry. He nods in response and is about to say something else, about how Mark is a real idiot for whatever he did to hurt her. But Y/N sits up, places a hand on his arm that was resting on the table between then, and gives him another smile. “But enough about him, seriously, I’m feeling a little drunk and having way too much fun here with you to be bothered anymore,” Y/N tells him.
“Alright,” Harry smiles, peering at Y/N as his heart beats wildly in his chest. He’s pretty sure his skin’s tingling from where her hand rests. But it doesn’t last long before she moves, reaching for her glass - that she then raises into the air.
“I would like to make a toast,” Y/N announces to the table, gaining everyone’s attention and smiles, “to Mitch and Adam’s absolutely amazing performance, new friends, and to having a lovely holiday season,” Y/N beams as Harry and his friends cheer in agreement and everyone lifts their glasses into the air.
The group ends up buying shots after, then another round of drinks, and then more shots. Y/N is laughing so much her stomach hurts. She hasn’t been this happy while enjoying others' company in far too long, outside of work of course. Harry makes another joke, teasing Adam, but Adam dishes it back right away. Y/N finds herself letting her hand slip to Harry’s thigh as she throws her head back with laughter at Adam’s absurd comment. Everyone else is too focused on the banter to notice, but Harry does of course. He’s breath hitches in his throat as he feels her delicate fingers spread over his thigh. He gulps, unsure if he wants to break whatever drunken trance that Y/N may be in. Does she realize that she’s put her hand on his thigh? He wonders. But his thoughts are quickly answered as she caresses her thumb along his pants before lifting her hand slowly off of him altogether.
Y/N’s leaning on her elbow again, her chin propped up in the palm of her hand as she looks at Harry. He’s so hot, her drunk self thinks as she watches his Adam's apple bob up and down for a second time since she had placed her hand on his thigh. It happened by accident to be honest, but she wasn’t sorry about it. God, she was just itching to touch Harry. His thigh, his arm, maybe rub gentle circles on the back of his neck as he talked amongst his friends, but she wanted to touch his lips more than anything. She couldn’t stop looking at his pretty pink lips as he replies to whatever whoever said to him.
Harry catches Y/N’s glossy eyes staring at him in the corner of his eye. He rolls his lips into his mouth to stop himself from smiling. He likes how she can’t seem to keep her eyes off of him, because he does the same thing maybe a little too often. Harry turns his head and meets her gaze, giving her a smirk as she playfully narrows her eyes at him. Her cheeks are rosy from the amount of liquor she’s consumed, while her eyes truly are a bit glossed over from her being more than tipsy. She’s so hot, he thinks, as his eyes shamelessly roam over her appearance. Even hours later at this shitty bar and she still looks breathtaking. Harry’s gaze lingers a little too long on her chest, admiring the way the top fit her breasts; was she wearing a bra? Oh how he wishes he could find out.
Y/N adjusts her position in her chair, letting her left arm fall into her lap while she lays her right arm beside Harry’s. She is liking this game they seem to be playing with their eyes. She sits up straight, knowingly sticking out her chest just a bit as she watches Harry’s eyes fall to her breasts. But she keeps it classy, of course, unlike some people. Y/N lets out a breathy sigh as she looks at Harry’s hand mere inches away from her right hand. Those rings, she thinks, they could do some real damage. Her thighs clench involuntarily, her mind falling into a fog as she imagines them leaving red marks on her bare bottom or how cool they would feel against her throat.
“I really like your rings, have I told you that before?” Y/N’s voice is hoarse, but she doesn’t care as her pinky reaches over to touch the large gold ‘S’ that rests on his pinky. The metal is cool to her touch, just as she imagines. Feeling brave - thanks to her good friend, tequila - she lifts her hand slightly in order to comfortably drag her fingertip over the ‘S’ shape a couple times.
“No, you-” Harry clears his throat, feeling it become dry at the sight of her doe eyes staring at his fingers. His mind goes somewhere dirty, thinking of somewhere else his fingers could go. Tangled in her hair, wrapped around her throat, inside of her. Harry licks his lips before he speaks again, “you haven’t, but thank you.”
“Which is your favourite?” Y/N questions, her finger still lazily tracing the ring on his pinky finger.
“Quite like the inicals,” Harry answers, smirking as she glances up to peer at him through her lashes. She mirrors his smug look easily.
“A very narcissistic answer,” Y/N hums, teasing him. Harry playfully narrows his eyes at her, which she returns but ends up giggling after a moment as he sticks out his tongue at her. These inappropriate thoughts have got to just slide away for a moment, Y/N thinks with a deep breath.
“We’re going to head out,” Tom announces to the table suddenly, helping Jenny out of her chair. Jenny’s beautiful dazzling smile is on her husband as he helps her into her coat. They’ve both had quite a bit to drink too and Harry notes how Jenny latches onto Tom’s side after they’re in their coats.
“I’m still shocked you two both came out tonight,” Harry says.
“We paid big bucks for this babysitter, so they better keep it together for at least another four hours,” Tom exclaims with a wink. Jenny gasps and smacks her husband on the chest as she realizes what Tom is insinuating.
“Don’t go acting like you last longer than ten minutes, bud,” Mitch taunts jokingly to his friend. Everyone laughs as Tom glares at Mitch across the table. Y/N covers her mouth with her hands, finally bringing her finger away from where it laid on Harry’s ‘S’ ring, in order to cover her chuckles.
“It was so lovely to meet you, Y/N,” Jenny gushes, letting go of Tom in order to put her arms around Y/N and hugging her tightly.
Y/N smiles into her bleached hair, squeezing her back just as tightly, “you too, Jenny,” she says.
“Don’t let H keep hiding you away now,” she says, pointing a stern finger at the two of them. Harry laughs and shakes his head at his friend.
“Wouldn’t dream of it, Jenny,” he tells her.
Then they’re all saying goodbye to the couple as they walk out of the half empty bar. Y/N glances around the place, noticing how it feels less scary now. Maybe it was the tequila that helped, or how comfortable she felt around Harry and his friends. A yawn suddenly makes it’s way past Y/N’s lips, she brings the back of her hand to cover it but ends up squinting her eyes closed as her whole body feels drained. She meets Harry eyes after the yawning stops, he shows her a small soft smile that makes her return it right back.
“Ready to go home?” He asks. She contemplates it for a moment, because she truthfully doesn’t want the night to end. But she decides to not fight it and nods to Harry.
Harry does practically the same thing as Tom just had. He announces his and Y/N’s departure, helps her into her coat, and lets her say her goodbyes as Adam opens his arms up for a big warm hug. Mitch only nods, waving to them both before Harry leads the way out of the bar. The cold night air blasts Y/N’s hair back, the sharp wind taking her by surprise as she blinks back tears from the cold. She puts both her hands into her coat pockets and zips it up all the way, snuggling into the warmth it will provide her on their walk home.
“I feel like Mitch doesn’t like me much,” Y/N admits after a few minutes of comfortable silence between her and Harry.
“What?” Harry shakes his head, eyebrows pinched together. “No, that’s just how he is. He’s quiet and looks all moody. Give him some time, he’ll warm up, promise.”
“I think he’s just protective of you,” Y/N says, looking up at Harry after they cross the road, “thinks I’m a threat or something.”
Harry chuckles and shakes his head again,“well, it’s definitely not like that with Mitch and I, plus he’s seeing someone. Her name’s Sarah, she plays drums on a lot of tracks we write.”
“If you say so,” Y/N sighs. She looks around at the sights before them. A few other mildly drunk people wander the streets, and she notices a few homeless people too, that tore Y/N’s heart apart, as they were bunkering down in the alleyways. Harry keeps pace with Y/N the whole walk home, letting her control the speed they walked and what they talked about. She would jump from subject to subject the entire time, but Harry thought it was kinda cute that she was so drunk she didn’t even realize how quickly she changed the topic.
And all too soon, they’re in the elevator in their apartment building. Harry presses the number six button and joins Y/N on the back wall. They both lean into the railing, comfortable silence falling between them once again. But it was obviously their thoughts were anything but silent. The elevator doors open on their floor, and Harry lets her walk out first as always.
“Well this is me,” Y/N says dramatically as she approaches her apartment door. Harry chuckles under his breath, shaking his head slightly and letting his eyes fall to the floor for a second before meeting Y/N’s stare again. “I really did have a great time tonight, Harry,” she tells him.
“I’m glad, I did too,” he agrees.
Y/N wants to kiss him. She really really really does. But they’re both a little drunk, and she literally just broke up with Mark yesterday - or maybe technically two days ago now since it’s past midnight. But it didn’t matter, she didn’t want to be that girl. Plus she wanted to really get to know Harry and take this slow and see where it went. That didn’t stop her gaze from falling to his pretty pink lips though. Harry’s thoughts are running laps too. He wants to kiss her. But he knows she’s more than likely still hasn’t recovered fully emotionally from her break up Mark, hell not even ten hours ago she was crying because of her shitty ex boyfriend. Didn’t mean he couldn’t stop thinking about kissing her though, especially when her gaze falls to his lips.
Just as quickly as they seemed to fall into some dream like state as thoughts of kissing each other float around them, they snap back to reality. Y/N blinks a few times and takes a step back, bumping into her front door. Harry clears his throat and steps back as well, towards his own front door.
“Polar Express,” Y/N says suddenly, earning a look of confusion from Harry. “We’re watching the Polar Express tomorrow, and you’re going to play me something on that guitar of yours.”
Harry lets out a chuckle and gives Y/N a smirk, “yeah, we’ll see about that.”
“You will,” she singsongs as she focuses on unlocking her door. It takes a few extra tries to get the key in but once she does she unlocks it and opens the door.
“Goodnight, Y/N,” Harry smiles.
“Goodnight, H,” Y/N says softly, smiling as well, as she leans against her door to look back at him. Harry’s smile deepens at her using his nickname. She must’ve picked it up from his friends using it earlier during their time at the bar.
She gives him one last look over, knowing very well that she’s going to dream about him in that cream and blue plaid jacket - and maybe only wearing that jacket - before she shuts her door and presses her back against it as it closes. Today was a lot. But she’s beyond grateful that Harry invited her out, introducing her to his wildly unique group of wonderful friends, and letting her get a little bit drunk too. Her chest flares up as she remembers their close moment at the bar, her touching his rings, placing her hand on his thigh-
“Oh god,” Y/N all but moans out as her thoughts go right back to the place they were at before.
She shakes her head and heads to her bedroom. Harry wouldn’t be able to hear a vibration from the other side of the wall, would he? Y/N shrugs and opens her bedside table drawer to grab her vibrator, knowing just how much she needed it tonight as she imagined Harry’s hand between her thighs. Fuck, she’s so screwed, she thinks, biting her lip as she realizes, she really really really likes Harry.
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>> part four <<
thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘
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dreadpoetssociety · 4 years ago
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I’m Many Things
TW: Mention of sexual harassment
Note: I’ve never really posted these before, so please be lax if it’s bad lol. I don’t see a lot of sibling fics (understandably lol) but I feel weird writing like romantic relationshipy reader insert fics with characters that are significantly older than me. Anywayyy, here goes. This is going to be short for now. 
Note pt 2: Idk if this really is any good. Looking at it now it seems a little off or I can’t really tell if I got Spencer right, but I tried!! It’s kinda rushed, I’ll admit. Also hopefully I used a gif right lol. This is kinda cringey and I promise I’m better than this fic, but I just really wanted to break the ice and start posting them, so enjoy!! (if you have any prompts/ideas please send me some ! I wanna write some more :))
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Summary: Your brother, Spencer Reid, has to have a meeting with your principal.
Spencer Reid x Sister!reader 
(or should I say reider hahahah I’ll shut up.)
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By now, Spencer was pretty familiar with the hallways of your high school, given how many times he’d been called in for meetings with various different staff members, or even from the parent-teacher conferences alone. Thankfully, the office was at the front entrance of the building, blocked off from the rest of the hallway with floor to ceiling windows, with one door. 
Reid had been informed in a very interesting phone call with the principal himself of what you had done. He was used to the petty things from you, talking back to teachers, skipping a class, vandalizing something, but the one thing you had never done, at least until now, was get into a physical altercation with another student during school. Let alone punch the principal’s son. Even so, despite the disappointment, Spencer still sensed that something was wrong in the sense that he understood you wouldn’t just do something like that out of nowhere. 
He was greeted by the women at the desk as he walked in.
“Hello, Dr. Reid. Nice to see you again.” she smiled.
“You too, if only it were under different circumstances.” Reid replied with a polite smile.
“She’s in front of the office, as usual.” the woman gestured to Reid’s right. The office had many rooms in it on its own, its own hallway and all that. Spencer walked behind the front desk and turned, seeing you sitting in a plastic chair near the end of the hall.
You turned when you heard footsteps coming down the hall.
“I know how this looks, but I promise it’s not like that.” you began explaining.
“You say that every time Y/N. This is the third time this semester I’ve had to leave work because you’ve gotten into some kind of trouble.” Spencer replied, obviously disappointed.
“This is different! Mr. Beck is being so stupid just because it’s his own son. You don’t understand, that kid is awful.” you said.
“Y/N did he hit you?” Spencer asked.
“Well, I mean, no but-” 
“That’s exactly what I mean. I understand that you’ve had it rough, but really Y/N getting violent?” Typically, Spencer would always hear you out. He was understanding, and genuinely listened, but the team was just about to leave on a case that was already stressful, and now it’s being delayed, “Y/N there’s a serial killer out west killing people every few hours, peoples’ lives are on the line and this is where I am.”
He’d never spoken to you that way. It was really unlike him, and he never put the job before you most of the time, and this hit you where it hurts.
It was then that you both were called into the principal’s private office.
“Dr. Reid, I apologize for pulling you from your busy schedule.” the man known as Mr. Beck greeted as he stood up and offered his hand, which Spencer shook.
“It’s no problem, sir, it’s not your fault.” Spencer then saw the other boy sitting in the chair on the far side of the room with a very swollen eye that would definitely be very purple later, a day or two to be more specific he thought. For teens, it takes about that long for the hemoglobin to change the red color to a more blue or purple he explained to himself in his own head, because that’s just how his mind automatically works. Either way, it was worse than he thought it’d be.
“Now, we’ve already talked about the issue over the phone, and as far as consequences go, we’ve been very lenient with Y/N for so long.” Mr. Beck began, “If I’m being completely honest, after what happened today, expulsion is being very highly considered.” 
“You’re going to expel me? You didn’t even listen to my side of the story, I’ve been sitting on that goddamn chair this entire time! You’re just taking your son’s word over mine you biased a-” 
“Y/N!” Spencer interrupted, “Mr. Beck, I understand completely why you’re upset and I’m appreciative of you patience, but expulsion seems a bit extreme. I promise I’ll talk to her and she’ll get the consequences she deserves and this won’t happen again. Suspension I can understand.” 
Great. you thought, Serial killer and now he has to save me from expulsion. Way to go again, disappointment.
“What? You didn’t even hear what happened! Your son was-” 
“Y/N that is quite enough!” Mr. Beck nearly yelled, “We’ve given you so many chances and today, my son tells me that you’ve been making fun of him and violently hurt him without reason! It is unacceptable!”
You genuinely laughed at that point, “I’m sorry what? Your son told you that I made fun of HIM? Have you ever looked at your precious son’s phone?” 
“Y/N shut up. You know what you’ve done.” Mr. Beck’s son snapped. Spencer found the phrasing quite odd. His demeanor was off putting, and he didn’t seem nervous at all. Granted, he could be in shock. Spencer recognized him, though, from pictures you’d shown him when complaining about pretty much every student in school, “You know you came up to me randomly. You know you harass me literally all of the time, and for what?”
Spencer noticed that this kid didn’t look anyone in the eye when he spoke, but slightly behind them.
“Mr. Beck, did Y/N ever say why she hit your son?”
“What does it matter what she says? She cannot be trusted and this behavior is not new. My son would not lie about this.” Mr. Beck sounded offended. 
“As a staff member, though, you shouldn’t let your biases get in the way.”
“She still physically harmed another student. Regardless of why, she must face consequences.” 
“Mr. Beck, it is only respectful to at least hear what she has to say.” Spencer argued. The young boy in the far seat’s face changed. He was nervous now. Mr. Beck sighed, and nodded towards you.
“Mr. Beck, this my come as a surprise to you, but I was NOT harassing your son. He was harassing another girl between classes. She had sent nudes to him, and then I don’t know if they had a falling out or something, but she was trying to like, I don’t know, break up with him I guess and he was following her around and pushed her up against a locker and tried to like, kiss her even though she said no. So I punched him, and then he threatened to send those pictures of her to everyone.” you stated, “Mr. Beck honestly, I’m many things, but a bully isn’t one of them. And no offense, but the last person I’m interested in even looking at is freaking Kyle Beck of all people.” you ranted. Spencer realized then that you were being genuine. You were a good liar to the naked eye, but always gave off the basic tells that Spencer could pick up on when you weren’t being truthful.
It was then that Spencer’s disappointment actually changed to pride. Although he didn’t condone the violence, he understood that you were a loner of sorts, and appreciated that you’d stand up for someone like that.
“Dad, she’s so full of crap! I would never do that, you know me!” he yelled. Reid noticed the small tremor in his voice, and quick change of behavior. 
“Y/N, I know I raised my son differently.” 
“Check his phone.” you said. 
“I know what he does.” Mr. Beck snapped.
“Sir, I believe she’s telling the truth. I say this as unbiased as I can, but I can tell when she’s lying. I am a profiler, you know.” Reid backed you up. He didn’t usually pull out the profiler card, but reading the room, now seemed like a good time. Mr. Beck was taken back for a moment before sighing, and his son’s face completely drained of color when asked to unlock the device.
It wasn’t long after that that the truth came to the surface. Your sentence went from expulsion to a month’s worth of detention.
Walking to the car, Spencer said, “You know Y/N, I don’t condone the violence, and don’t exactly agree with the way you handled that, but I am proud of you for sticking up for that girl.”
“Yeah.” you replied. He noticed that you didn’t seem happy, but more so upset.
“Y/N, what’s bothering you?”
“Nothing.”
“I’m profiler, Y/N. You know I don’t believe that.” he said. You sighed.
“I don’t mean to disappoint you all the time,” you started as Reid’s heart sank, “I know you should be out there saving people rather than staying here and dealing with me. I’m not worth the time. I don’t know why I’m this way, I’m really sorry.”
“Y/N...” Spencer realized his mistake, “I was just stressed when I said that. You’re not a disappointment and shouldn’t apologize for just being who you are. Don’t undermine your importance, either. You mean more to me than the job.”
You smiled, “So does this mean I can come with you and look at crime scenes?”
“Absolutely not.” Reid chuckled.
“Aw, but it would be so cool! I’ll be good I promise!”
“Y/N, crime scenes aren’t cool, and you would cause trouble before we even got there.” he said, jokingly, “I bet you would even try to fly the jet.”
“Oh my god, I never even thought about doing that. That’s such a good idea.”
“And that’s why you’re not allowed to come.” Reid smiled, as they both got in the car and drove towards home. Spencer appreciated the ten minute ride while he could, knowing he would be leaving soon after. 
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bnhablessings · 5 years ago
Note
Can I request a oneshot/headcanon for Hawks x pregnant fem!reader? I was thinking of Hawks being super cute taking care of her and showing her off proudly to other hero's. this is my first time making a request, so feel free to do with this as you please lolz! also I really want the end to have reader going into labor and giving birth at the end with a very proud Hawks at her side (you get to choose the gender!)💖
It took me so long to get to this omg but I did and I hope you like it, Hon! It is past midnight and I have a weird obsession with tomatoes right now.
Warnings: Pregnancy, just a fluff overload, Profanity, All Might is retired, Dabi and Hawks are good friends AU (we ignore the manga, only happy feelings here lmao)
*I have fixed grammar issues. My brain power was not activated when writing this lol.
Words: 2438
Takami Keigo (Hawks) x Female Reader
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“Isn’t she just amazing?” Hawks questions not really speaking to anyone else as he just admires the woman waddling down the hallway.
The other Pro Heroes around him stare at him with confusion. Aizawa, Yamada, Yagi, and Todoroki Enji all take a glance at each other before they wait for the woman to make her way to them. All of them but Hawks are profoundly confused.
“Uh… This was supposed to be a parent-teacher conference so may I ask why Hawks is here as well?” All Might asks.
Hawks ignores them as he watches the woman stopping for a moment to speak to a student. She looks genuinely concerned and it makes his foolish heart swell from how caring she is. Endeavor wants to slap the foolish look off Hawks face but ignores it to answer All Might.
“I apologize. We had lunch together before this meeting. He decided to follow me but I have no idea why.” The tone to Endeavor’s voice shows that he is irritated but curious as to why the number 2 hero seems to be enamored with a simple U.A teacher.
She hasn’t noticed him yet thankfully and he has proudly gotten a video of her waddling. The closer to she gets the more the expression on her face slowly turns into one of realization. The students at U.A respect and care for her so they always make room for her.
“Hey, Honey, what are you doing here?”  You ask softly as you place a hand on your very large bump.
He goes to respond when your colleague Present Mic starts to let out an inhuman sound that turns into a surprised scream. “What?! Honey?! (NAME) YOU’RE MARRIED TO THE HAWKS?!” Present Mic screeches.
You ignore the change in volume and laugh as you nod your head. Aizawa seems to nod as he pieces it together. “Ah… You did mention Tokoyami’s internship being close with your husband.”
“BUT WAIT! You’re married? All my attempts on wooing you have been in vain,” Present Mic mumbles.
Everyone seems to freeze at this but you just laugh more. “Yamada, have you not noticed my ring? I’ve been wearing it every day since working here!” You manage to say after laughing.
He has absolutely no reply but to slowly put his hands up to show surrender from Hawks’ glare on him. Without a care, Hawks pulls you to him so he can hug you with your baby bump blocking it fully. His hands go to rest upon it and he smiles widely.
“See! I told you I have a beautiful family too, Endeavor.”
Endeavor for once has to hide the smile on his face as he looks away. He replies, “Yeah. I thought you were speaking nonsense or showing me pictures of random pregnant women.”
“Nope! I can guess why you would be confused… Since I never showed her face. We have a little chickadee coming on the way!” The excitement is clear in his voice and on his face from the happy lazy grin plastered on it.
He looks at the others and bids them goodbye. “Well, I am going to steal her so she can have her lunch with me. See ya.”
~*~
“Baby, I promise, it is okay! I’ll be fine. I’ll see you later when you get home! I’m just happy you visited for lunch,” You say into the phone. Your other hand goes to your purse to look for your keys.
You hear Hawks mumble and whine on the other side of the phone but you ignore it until you find the keys successfully. “Alright, babe. I’ll be fine. I’ll text you when I reach the house. I love you!”
After hearing his ‘I love you more’ he hangs up and you smile feeling great. This is unusual since the pregnancy hormones have made you feel like shit lately. It’s all going to be worth it though.
“Hey, do you need me to walk you home?” Aizawa questions as he enters the hall.
You think for a few seconds before you ask, “Would you be willing to walk me to the station? I’ll be fine from there since I’m planning on stopping by a store! I don’t want to waste too much of your time!”
He nods and the two of you begin the walk to the station. It starts as a comfortable silence before Aizawa speaks up with a smile on his face. “You know, I had no idea you were married to the Number 2 Pro Hero. It surprised me but at the same, it didn’t. What surprised me though was seeing the way he stared at you. You have a good thing going,” Aizawa states.
It was odd for him to give his input like that but it made you feel happy to know that Hawks’ love for you was just that noticeable. Once at the station, Aizawa gives you a look, something an older brother would a younger sibling or parent would their child before giving a demand.
“Call me if anything happens. I’m on patrol for a while so I’ll be near this area. Be safe going home, (Name).”
Today has been such a heartwarming day and Aizawa’s words only bring you more joy as you bid him a farewell.
It doesn’t take long to reach the store close to your home. You salivate at the thought of getting what you crave most. An odd combination that most people would puke from but what you need to satisfy you and your baby right now, tomatoes and frosting.
You can just imagine Hawks’ disgusted look but it wasn’t the worst thing you’ve had yet. You go to turn when your baby bump hits something off the shelf. Thankfully, it was just another plastic can full of icing so it didn’t break. Now the new problem was picking up the jar.
You know it was a near-impossible feat but you try anyway. You probably look very silly trying to reach and barely scraping the can with your fingernails but you don’t care. You are determined to do it. That is until you hear an obvious cough trying to get your attention.
You give up for now and look at the owner only to smile upon seeing the man you saw earlier. “Hello, Mr. Endeavor! We’ve met officially earlier but not formally. I am Takami (Name). It’s a pleasure to meet you and I apologize if my husband gets a bit too much to handle. He can be very chillaxed but he does take his job seriously,” You ramble.
“Pleasure.”
He merely observes you with serious eyes before he bends down and picks up the icing jar. He hands it to you. “Thank you! I would’ve been in a pickle there if I couldn’t reach it,” You murmur placing it back on the shelf where it belongs.
One of his eyebrows betray his lack of expression to show his slight confusion and you laugh. “I already have my icing in this arm! The baby bump knocked over that one.”
He doesn’t say anything in reply to that. Instead, he seems to contemplate saying something. He just needs a few seconds before he decides to say it against his better judgment.
“Hawks... He’s the Number 2 Pro Hero and extremely famous. How is it I never even heard or seen you? I thought he was fibbing about having a wife since he only produced photos of your bump and not of your actual face,” He didn’t want to ask it but the curiosity got the best of him and it was unusual to him.
The question made you smile but this time with a bit of sadness. You’ve received this question just a few times before but the answer remains the same. “We try to hide our relationship and it is easy when his fans like to think he is single. It doesn’t matter but we have private social medias for our friends. We like to keep my face hidden and such.”
The atmosphere turned a bit tense and for once (actually probably like the fifth time since Hawks had been determined in making him a better Number 1 Hero) he feels guilty. Something strange feels like it’s churning in his chest and he quickly fixes it.
“He does talk an awful lot about you though. It’s clear as day how much he loves you and your baby.” It was a simple two-sentences but it brought comfort to you.
He leaves without any more words and you are brought back to your cheerful self and go to pay for the items. By the time you get home, it is already showing signs of getting dark. You are quick to send a text to Hawks and it distracts you from realizing something odd is wrong with your door. The fact that it is unlocked.
You lock your front door once inside and go straight to the kitchen to slice the tomatoes and spread icing on them. You waste absolutely no time as you have it all ready on a plate and leave the room to go change into something more comfortable.
Of course, only Hawks’ shirts have been fitting you lately and you prefer them much more than your maternity clothing. So you wear that and a pair of shorts before coming to get your treat and hopefully take a nap. That was the plan before you have a fucking heart attack from seeing a burnt toast eating your food.
“How the fuck do you eat this?” Dabi questions spitting a tomato slice out of his mouth.
Your heart is absolutely broken at the scene. You ignore the bully of a man and stare at the red and white mess on the ground. How dare he do this to you?
“Oh fuck… (Name), please don’t do this. I’m sorry. I’ll go buy you a new fucking tomato if you want. With the fucking confetti icing and shit. Just don’t cry… Or tell Hawks,” Dabi says.
It is too late though. The damage has been done as your hormones go berserk from seeing what you craved on the ground (yes your mind is ignoring the perfectly good slices still on the plate). Tears prick at your eyes and before you can rub them away or cry, Dabi brings you into a hug.
As you cry into his chest he is already on the phone with Hawks but with your uncontrollable sobs, you don’t hear the conversation. After a few painful minutes (for Dabi) he finally pulls away only for your face to be smothered by your loving husband’s chest.
He hushes you gently and rubs soothing circles on your back all while glaring at his best friend.
Dabi raises his hand in defense. “Hey man, I just came here to visit the princess with good intentions. Thanks for bringing the tomato. I owe you one.”
Another minute later Dabi presents to you a brand new plate with a tomato covered in icing. You sniffle lightly and take it before mumbling, “Thanks. Sorry for the way I acted. That was pathetic.”
“Hey no, it wasn’t Doll. I take full blame for eating your weird food. That and it is 100% Hawks’ fault for knocking you up Beautiful. Anyway, I got to bounce but are we good?” Dabi asks opening his arms for another hug.
You smile and give in. “We’re always good. Now get out of here. We’ll invite you over for a chicken wing dinner,” You offer.
He leaves with a stupid smile on his face and Hawks smiles as he can finally full-on cuddle you without interruptions. Of course, after you are done eating. He pulls you to cuddle on the couch with him, his wings stretched out and resting against the couch.
“You good, Babe?”
You nod the exhaustion pouring in on your face, “Yeah. Sorry I ended up making you come home early. I didn’t mean to get like that.”
“It’s all good. I would do anything for you and the baby. No tomato is safe from being devoured by you if that is what you desire.”
You are too tired to even give a response to that. Instead, you try and curl up into him as you make sure your bump is comfortable at the same time. His hands rest on your belly as he hums into your ear.
“What only two months left now?”
Yeah, and they are going to fly right by.
~*~
“You had to come in through the window?” Hawks asks in a hushed voice.
Dabi only smirks before his eyes fall on your resting figure. Hawks is sitting right beside you on the bed. The sweet bundle of joy he came to meet is resting in Hawks’ arms right beside you.
“Can’t impress anyone if I didn’t. All the Heroes come by already?” Dabi asks as he takes slow and steady steps to the three of you.
You smile weakly as you recall your three colleagues coming in to check on you and meet the baby (that Hawks may or may not have shoved in their face from how proud he was). Endeavor came by as well to congratulate you and Hawks.
“Yeah. All there is left now is to meet you,” You murmur as Hawks stands up.
Dabi gets a close look at the baby’s squishy face. He wants to say it’s hideous as a joke (he was planning on how to do joke about it though) but he couldn’t. The baby was actually cute. However, to his absolute horror, Hawks starts to proceed to give the baby to him.
“What the fuck. What if I drop it?”
You answer in a sleepy voice. “Drop her and I will personally send you to hell.”
“Her… What name did you guys come up with?”
Hawks answers without hesitation. “Tomato.”
Dabi physically freezes and looks up before seeing the stupid grin on Hawks’ face. He turns to you and you smile a gentle smile and give up the true answer. “Takara, it means treasure. Takami Takara.”
“I’ll take the chair. I’ll hold her while you guys rest up for a bit.”
You thank him and Hawks silently thanks him before showing off his severely bruised hand that you no doubt, destroyed when pushing during labor.
It is a pain Hawks would gladly go over again and endure for you because you are everything to him. You and your beautiful daughter mean the world to him and he would go through this life a million times if it meant having the two of you again.
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spine-buster · 4 years ago
Text
The President Wears Prada (William Nylander) | Chapter 29
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A/N:  There’s somewhat of a double update this week 🙊You’ll understand why at the end of the chapter 🙊 
May 26th, 2020
Aberdeen Bloom was frantic.  
The NHL had announced their Return to Play plan.  Toronto was the chosen hub city for the eastern conference, naturally.  They were Toronto.  She’d be back at work.
None of that mattered.
William was back in Toronto.
But he was in quarantine.  The government had instituted the policy and he was going to stick to it, obviously.  And so was she, especially since he traveled from Florida, even though it was going to be hard.  It meant that he was in Toronto, and Aberdeen knew he was in Toronto, but she was unable to see him.  They’d have to communicate the same way as they did when he was in Tampa Bay, still, even though he was only a ten-minute walk away from her.  
It killed her.  It hurt worse than when he was in Tampa.
“The plan is already set,” he explained to her on the phone.  “After the fourteen days I get to go back onto the ice.  I think a few of the guys who stayed in Toronto will be there too.  No more than five, though.”
“Yeah.  Those are the rules.”
“Will you be there with Brendan?”
Aberdeen hadn’t even thought about it.  She and Brendan had obviously kept in touch throughout quarantine, but he hadn’t mentioned needing her at Scotiabank Arena should any of the guys go in for a skate.  “I don’t know, actually,” she admitted.  “I’d have to ask.”
“Please ask,” he said quickly, causing Aberdeen to laugh.  “If you’re there that day, when I’m back on the ice, I…Aberdeen, please just ask.”
“I will.”
***
May 29th, 2020
“Do you need me in that day, by the way?” Aberdeen asked Brendan on the phone, super-casually but also super-connivingly near the end of their call.
“Which day?”
“Any of the days, really,” she said, trying to sound even more casual than before.  They’d gone through all the players, their whereabouts, and all the dates they would be available to go skate at the arena.  “The seventh, the ninth – any of them.”
“Well…it’ll be nice to see your smiling face,” he said, and she knew by his tone he was looking down at his calendar.  “How about you come in on just one of the days.  You choose which one.”
“I’ll come on the ninth, the Tuesday,” she chose quickly.  “Sunday is a day of worship, Brendan.  You should know better.”
Brendan laughed on the other end.  “It’ll be good to see you again, Aberdeen.  Bring some of that humour with you.  We’re gonna need it.”
***
June 3rd, 2020
“Six more days, minskatt.”
“Not that we’re counting.”
“When I get my hands on you…”
“Not if I get my hands on you first.”
***
June 7th, 2020
“Forty-eight hours.”
“It’s been sixty-one days, you know.”
“Sixty-one days?!  Fuuuuuuck, Aberdeen.”
“You haven’t been buried in my pussy for sixty-one days, Willy.”
“Aberdeen—”
“My pussy’s so wet for you Willy.”
“You’ve gotta stop teasing me.”
***
June 9th, 2020
“A blazer, Aberdeen?” Brendan asked as he watched her walk into the office, a giddy smile on his face – not that anyone saw.  Everyone was wearing a mask, and he was no exception.  He wore a Leafs branded one, naturally.  He had a bunch to give to Aberdeen, too – one for every day of the week.  She walked into the office wearing a plain black mask.  Typical of her.
“I needed to feel professional,” she said.  “I’ve been in my condo in sweaters and tights for three months.  Give me this moment.”
“Fine.  Have it,” he smiled.  “Set your stuff down and come with me.  We’re going down to the ice.”
Aberdeen felt shivers running up and down her spine, and it wasn’t because of the ice.  They made their way down to the locker room first, actually, where they saw Kyle on the way.  She and him caught up quickly, with her asking about Leo and with Kyle asking about her writing.  But then, like pure magic, and completely unannounced, there he was, in his hockey pants and socks.  She swore her heart stopped beating.  Sixty-one days.
William stopped dead in his tracks when he saw her.  He was wearing a mask, so she could only see his eyes.  “Aberdeen,” he said, nodding at her.  “Hey.”
“Hey,” she said.  “Long time no see.  How was Tampa?” she asked.
Only she could see the indignant look he was giving her with his eyes.  It was a look he only saved for her when she was being ridiculous – in any way she could be ridiculous – so Brendan and Kyle were none the wiser, though she was sure if they really looked, they’d probably see it too.  “It was good.  Nice spending time with the siblings, you know.  Were you okay here?”
She nodded.  “Yeah, everything was fine on my end.  Just stayed holed up in the condo, really.  Kasha was working a lot from home so it was mostly just me writing and keeping quiet so she could still earn a living.”
“Well that’s good that she didn’t get laid off or anything,” he commented.  “And your family?  They’re okay?”
“They’re fine.  Siena’s back at my parents’ place and finished off the school year.  Camden is too, though school in general is a bit of a shit show right now.”
“Is that Aberdeen?!” a voice suddenly called out from inside the locker room.  Before their dumb conversation could continue with Brendan and Kyle watching, she saw a maskless Zach Hyman in his full gear barreling towards her.  “Aberdeen!” he extended his arms for a hug.
“No no no!” Kyle and Brendan screamed at the same time, putting their arms up like a forcefield around Aberdeen.  “No hugging!  Social distancing!”
Zach’s brows were furrowed before he finally remembered, rolling his eyes at himself.  “Sorry.  I’m so dumb.  I completely forgot.  I’m just excited to see you!”
“Me too, Zach,” she smiled, wishing he could see it.  She hoped he at least saw her eyes crinkle from it.  “It’s nice to be back, isn’t it?”
“You’re telling me,” he said.  She didn’t even have to see his face to see he was smiling from ear to ear.  He lived for hockey.  “You coming out onto the ice with us?”
“If I’m allowed,” Aberdeen shrugged her shoulders, looking to Brendan and Kyle who were nodding their heads.  “Might sit on the bench and pretend I’m Sheldon for a bit.”
***
did u tell kasha ur working late?
Yup
come over right when brendan lets u leave i can’t wait anymore
me neither
i got a boner just seeing u today in your work clothes
LOL WILL
minskatt im 100% serious this isnt funny
I’m actually dying Willy Thank god you were wearing your hockey pants We’ve waited over six weeks, you can’t wait longer?
NO I CAN’T MINSKATT
***
There were butterflies in Aberdeen’s stomach as she made her way into William’s condo building, into the elevator, and through the hallways.  Still in her work clothes, she knocked frantically on his front door.  
She didn’t have to wait long.
She didn’t even get the third knock in before he swung the door open, obviously waiting for her, grabbing her arm and pulling her in.  She dropped her bag as he pulled her into him and immediately planted his lips on hers aggressively.  Hands and lips and tongues happened all at once, and they were everywhere, and when the front door shut behind them William pushed Aberdeen up against it, lifting her up in his arms with her wrapping her legs around him.  Aberdeen wrapped her arms around his shoulders and began running her fingers through his hair.  It had gotten so long.  So long.  She’d seen the progression of the length on their FaceTime calls, but it was different seeing it in person.  Sixty-one days.  Sixty-one days since she’d seen him and she barely took in the sight of him when he opened the door.
“God I fucking missed you,” he mumbled quickly as his kisses moved from her lips to her neck.
“Let me see you,” she mumbled, stopping her hands from running through his hair to place them on either side of his face.  She pulled his face away from her neck so she could look at him, really look at him.  His eyes were as blue as ever, glossed over with love and lust and everything in between.  His hair was as blonde as ever, long and luscious and every girl’s dream, really.  A light stubble covered his face, and the stupidest mustache sat atop his lip, but because he was William, she couldn’t say a bad thing about it.  It looked ridiculous, but she loved everything about it.  His lips were pink and puffy and wet as she ran her thumb across them ever so gently.  He was here.  He was actually here.  “Hi,” she said softly, their chests still heaving from the hot and heavy start.  
“Hi minskatt,” he whispered back equally as softly, pursing his lips slightly as if to kiss her thumb.
“You’re here,” she smiled.  “You’re finally here.”
“I never want to spend that much time apart again,” he said.  “I can’t stand being away from you.”
“Me neither.”
“It was torture,” he continued.  “All I thought about was you.  How much I love you.  How much I wanted to hold you in my arms like I’m doing now.”
Aberdeen smiled again, biting down on her bottom lip slightly.  “Show me,” she said.  “Show me how much you love me.”
He planted his lips on hers again, just as frantic and fiercely as the last time, continuing where he left off.  Aberdeen began shimmying out of her blazer, letting it fall to the floor as he adjusted her in his arms and carried her through the apartment, setting her down finally on his couch.  Hovering over her now, with her legs still wrapped around him, Aberdeen tugged at his hoodie.  “Take this off,” she mumbled, pulling it over his shoulders and throwing it behind them.
Reluctantly, William’s lips left Aberdeen’s as he pulled back and started unzipping her pants.  “Willy,” her chest heaved up and down.  He was working quickly.  He ignored his name as he pulled her pants off.  When they were off, he hooked his fingers into her underwear and pulled them off too.  “Willy—”
William was a man possessed.  There was nothing Aberdeen could say – instead, she watched as he gave her one final look with his blue eyes before he dove into her pussy.  She bucked her hips almost automatically but William brought his arm up to hold her down.  “Ooooooh fuck, Willy,” she sighed out.  
“I missed this,” he mumbled, humming against her lips as he lapped and sucked, making her squirm underneath his arm.  “You taste so good for me.”
“I missed this too.  I missed your mouth on my pussy,” she strained to get out, trying to savour the feeling as much as possible since she hadn’t felt it in sixty-one days.  When he looked up at her from in between her legs, she smiled.  “You look so good between my thighs, baby,” she cooed, running her fingers through his hair and gripping it slightly.  
He hummed again, sending shivers down her spine.  “When you touched yourself was it like this?” he asked.
“No,” she responded automatically, because nothing was the same as having William’s lips and tongued glued to her pussy.  “Nothing is as good as this, Willy.  Nothing.”
“Can I put my fingers in your pussy?”
She nodded furiously.  “Please Willy.”
He pushed two fingers in slowly as he sucked on her clit, making her squirm even more so than before.  “Oooooh, Willy,” she moaned.  He curled his fingers inside of her like he always did and she gasped.  “Willy—Willy—”
“Feel good?”
“Feels fucking amazing,” she said.  “Willy, I—I—”
“What do you want, Aberdeen?”
“I want to suck your cock, Willy,” she admitted.  “I want to suck your cock so bad.”
He chuckled, and she could feel it, and his eyes narrowed as he could practically feel the shivers run through her body.  “Not yet.  Not until you come on my face.”
Aberdeen gulped.  “But Willy—”
“No.  Not until you come on my face, baby.”
“Willyyyy—” she begged, until she felt his fingers curl inside of her again.  “Oh fuck, Willy, fuck – please,” she huffed.  
“Let me taste you, Aberdeen.  I need to taste you.”
As he continued his lapping, Aberdeen moaned and cried out at every opportunity, and when she began tugging on his hair and pulling his face even further against her wet pussy, he knew she was close.  With a few more curls of his fingers and sucking on her clit, she cried out his name over and over again as she became a screaming, writhing mess on his couch.  He lapped up every single last drop of her as he watched her chest heave up and down from the pleasure, from the pleasure he caused.  When he was finally finished, placing butterfly kisses against her pussy and thighs, he made his way back up and gave her a hot, slobbered kiss.
She could taste herself on his lips, and she loved it, but what she wanted more was to taste him.  So when his lips left hers, she made sure to look him in the eye.  “Sit,” she said, putting her hands on his chest.  
“Minskatt—” he said, placing a hand on hers.
“Sit,” she ordered more sternly, pushing him back so he’d listen to her command.  He sat on the couch with his legs spread apart and watched as she climbed on top of him but made her way between his legs.  She took off her top, leaving her just in her lace bra that she wore especially for him.  Her hands went to the waistband of his sweatpants and she pulled them down, along with his boxers, as eagerly as ever.  When his cock bounced up, already hard, she smiled up at him.  “Mmmmm,” she hummed, running her fingernails up and down his thick thighs.  “I’ve been dreaming about your cock in my mouth, Willy.”
“I’ve been dreaming abo—oh fuuuuuck,” he groaned as Aberdeen wasted no time in licking the underside of his cock from the base to the tip before covering the tip with her lips.  “Aberdeen—”
William couldn’t finish his sentence – or thought, really – because Aberdeen took his cock in her mouth, swirling her tongue around expertly.  He leaned his head back and closed his eyes.  The amount of times he thought about this very thing while in Tampa…and now it was happening.  He shuddered thinking about it, feeling it happening right now.  “Your mouth feels incredible on my cock,” he managed to get out, looking down at her with hooded eyes.  
“Pull my hair, Willy,” she said quickly, putting a quick kiss on the tip of his cock. 
It was his turn to gulp.  He ran his fingers through her hair – the hair he loved so much – and tugged on it slightly, pushing her back down onto his cock.  She moaned in response.  “That okay?”
She nodded even though his cock was halfway down her throat.  She looked up at him again once she came back up – once he allowed her to.  “Harder, Willy.  It’s okay.  I want your cock down my throat.”
“Ab—”
“It’s okay, Willy,” she dug her nails into his thighs.  “I want it.”
A deep growl rose in his chest as he tugged on her hair again, pushing her mouth down his cock slowly.  As he watched his cock disappear into her mouth, his pupils dilated.  When she looked up at him with her beady eyes, he almost lost it.  She began bobbing her head up and down his cock with his direction, the tugging of her hair and the slight force he was using making her wet all over again.  Much like William, Aberdeen derived pleasure from knowing she was giving William that same pleasure, so seeing his chest heave, seeing him lean his head back in pleasure – it was all she wanted, everything she dreamed of for the past sixty-one days away from him.
“D’you want to come down my throat?” she asked, his cock slick and wet from her spit.
“No,” he said sternly.  “Get…get up here.”
“Willy—”
He tugged her by the arm, bringing her back up so he could kiss her and pick her back up again as they made their way to his bedroom.  He plopped her down to the bed, opening his bedside table drawer to get a condom.  She stole it from him, ripping it open with her teeth and rolling it on herself before laying back down on the bed, unclasping her bra herself and throwing it across the room.  
William bent down and took one of her nipples into her mouth, sucking gently as he grabbed at her hands.  He raised them above her head, holding them both there with only one of his own.  He saw her smile.  “You like that, don’t you?” he asked, his own grin showing how he felt about it.
She nodded her head.  “I want your cock so bad Willy.  “Give me your cock.  I need your cock.”
He slipped into her easily, quickly, her wet pussy still slick with her juices.  They both moaned in pleasure, and once he was fully in her, they both took a moment to savour the feeling of being together again – physically, mentally, emotionally, everything – and looked each other in the eye.  “God you feel so good,” he whispered, giving the tip of her nose a light kiss.  “I love you so much.”
“I love you too,” she said, her voice breathless, the feeling of him filling her up almost too much to bear after not having experienced it for so long.  “I love you so much, Willy.”
“I promise you,” he said.  “I promise you I’ll never leave you for that long again.  We’ll never be separated like that.”
She nodded her head.  She understood.  “I never want to be.  I always want to be with you, Willy.  Wherever you are, I’ll be.”
He began moving in and out of her, slowly, trying to make the feeling last as long as possible.  But eventually, when Aberdeen began rolling her hips along with his movements, even though her arms and hands were still pinned above her head, he couldn’t control himself, moving quicker and crashing harder against her body.  He watched as her eyes rolled to the back of her head, the moans escaping them freely and loudly.  
At some point, William forgot about holding her arms above her head.  At some point, they escaped free, and she dug her nails into his shoulder blades and scratched them down his back.  At some point, after hearing her moans and cries and screams of his name for what felt like hours, he lost himself, and he lost control, and she lost herself, and she lost control, and they came together, bodies close, arms around each other, his head buried in the crook of her neck, hearts beating together.  
***
“Did you mean what you said?” William asked as they lay in bed together, still recovering.  He knew there was going to be a round two.  And a round three.  And however many more they saw fit until they were satisfied, although deep down he knew neither of them would ever be satisfied.  But before all that, he needed to clear something up.  He needed to hear it from her.  “Wherever you are, I’ll be?”
Aberdeen looked over at him.  She knew what he was asking, because he was in hockey.  He could be shipped off somewhere tomorrow.  He could be shipped off in the off-season.  As she learned in May, and saw for herself, virtually half the fanbase wanted him gone (the dumb fanbase at least, she thought).  But much like when he asked her if she would really come to Sweden with him, she knew there was a deeper meaning to this.  There always was with William with questions like this; he was still learning to talk to her – to express his feelings like he promised he would after that game against Carolina.  “Are you listening?” she asked, what they would always ask each other when they were about to say something important.
“Yes, minskatt.”
She looked him in the eye and nodded her head.  “Of course I did.”
He tried not to show it, but he took a sharp intake of breath.  She could see his Adam’s apple bob.  She knew he was trying not to get emotional.  But when he moved to kiss her, she could feel a tear.
***
June 13th, 2020
“I saw on the news that William is back!” Camden exclaimed into the phone.  Aberdeen had to go so far as to jerk the phone away from her ear.  From the other side of the couch, William giggled silently.  “Did you get to see him, Aberdeen?!”
“I did,” she laughed.  “He says hello.”
“Did he have a good time in Tampa?”
“I think so.  I mean he was with his siblings,” Aberdeen laughed.  “Aren’t you happy with me and Siena are home?”
“Sometimes.”
She snorted.  “Anyways, have you finished the last of your work for school?” she asked.  “Siena told me you forgot about a math assignment.”
“Oh my God, I forget about one assignment and I never hear the end of it!” he complained.  William threw his head back in silent laughter.  “You guys never let me hear the end of it!”
“But it’s math, Camden!  Math is your favourite subject!”
“Don’t you guys remember I’m working at like, two grades above my level in math anyway?” he reminded her.  “I’m already, like, gifted in math.  You weren’t gifted.”
“Don’t remind me.”
“Is Auston back yet?” he asked.
“I don’t know buddy.  He’s still in Arizona.  But I assume he’ll be coming back soon.  I’m sure there’s ice rinks there he’s practicing on.”
“Is he staying safe?”
“I’m sure he is Camden.  I’m sure he is.”
***
June 19th, 2020
@simmonssteve: POSTMEDIA EXCLUSIVE: Auston Matthews has tested positive for COVID-19.  My breaking story: torontosun.com
***
Aberdeen thought she’d seen Brendan Shanahan angry on her interview day when he was demanding to his former personal assistant that the article written about his daughter be pulled from the Toronto Sun.  She thought she saw Brendan Shanahan at his angriest when she entered his house while he was having a fight with his daughter and the subsequent day when he sent her on a wild goose chase throughout the city to find Niklas Lidstrom’s Swedish jersey.  
Those were a walk in the park compared to how she saw him now, dealing with the leaked information that Auston tested positive for COVID-19.  
She was sure he was ready to burn down his office, the floor, the entire building, the entire Scotiabank Arena.  She knew he wanted to revoke the media access and credentials of the reporter, Steve Simmons, because he had so many strikes against him over the years (Aberdeen would have to research this when she got home), but that he would look like a vindictive and spiteful president if he did so.  She knew he had been on the phone with Auston and his agent and his parents and Kyle and Brad and just about everyone else important within the organization to deal with it.
And all she was doing was sitting in a chair in his office with a mask on.  
She felt her phone buzz in her hand, and when she looked at the screen she saw “Head Empty” on the screen followed by a message.  
hows it going over there?
She took a quick look at Brendan and he was still barking into a phone.  She unlocked her screen and began to type.  
It’s a shit show. Have you heard from Auston?
yea mild symptoms but hes angry doesnt know how it leaked
Who could it have been?
no clue, honestly not like any of us would say something
“Aberdeen, Kyle is coming in,” Brendan said quickly.  His voice was stern but softer than how he was speaking to whoever was on the phone.  He had his hand over the receiver.  “Can you go get us some coffee, please.”
She nodded and got up, making her way out of his office and to the Starbucks where she always went to get their regular orders.  As she took the staircase down to the main floor, her phone began to ring loudly, echoing in the empty space.  She stopped and looked down at her phone.  Auston Matthews.
“Hello?” she asked, truly confused as to why he would be calling her.
“Hey,” he said casually.  “How are you?”
“I’m…fine,” she replied, still confused.  “Is everything okay?”
“Depends,” he said.  “Can you be honest with me?”
She stiffened slightly.  “I’m always honest with you.”
“I know.  But can you be honest with me right now?”
“Yes, of course.”
He paused.  “Do you know who leaked it?”
She closed her eyes.  She let out the breath she didn’t know she was holding in.  “No, I don’t.  But trust me when I say we’re doing everything to find out.  Kyle’s heading over right now and I can only imagine what he and Brendan are going to do to…I don’t know, mitigate this disaster.”
She could hear him sigh on the other end.  “I hope whoever it was gets fired, honest to God.”
“I hope so too.  Pretty sure Brendan wants to get Steve Simmons fired, too, for what it’s worth,” she said.  There was a moment of silence between the two of them before her mouth began speaking quicker than her brain told her not to say anything.  “You don’t think it was me, do you?”
“No, not at all,” he said.  “We all trust you with anything and everything.  We know if something ever got out, it would never be you.”
“Why do you say that?” she asked, genuinely curious.  It was a feat in and of itself to have the utmost trust of absolutely everybody in the locker room.
“Because we know and understand that we all have our secrets, Aberdeen.”
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tweedlydumbtweedlydoo · 4 years ago
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Right Person, Wrong Time (Part 2) | Bucky Barnes x reader
Summary: You and Bucky decided to go your separate ways, but the both of you had doubts about that decision. However, after Bucky is thrown into a secret mission and is gone for over a year, you have moved on and found someone else. Who will your heart choose?
| PART 1 | 
A/N: Here is the second part. I was going to wait until the first part received more than 100 notes, but I couldn’t wait! However, I am going to wait with the third part though. So, until part two receives at least 100 notes, I won’t begin to work on part 3, because due to school I don’t have much time to write, so when I do, I’d like for it to be worth it (and i’m sorry if that sounds rude, but i’ve just had a good decrease in notes recently and it hurts the pride y’all. lol) 
ANYWAYs I hope you all enjoy the second part and thank you to the ones who shown interest in the first part! I love all y’all and I hope you enjoy!! xx 
Tag list is at the end. Let me know if you want to be added xx
**MASTERLIST**
Requests: OPEN {CLOSED}
** Rules for Requesting **
** Who I Write For **
********************************************************************************************NOT MY GIF, CREDIT TO OWNERS
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~ Over a Year Later ~ 
To say the past year had been easy would be an understatement. You experienced things you never expected and did them all alone; Not fully alone. You were thankful for the help of your fellow avengers, especially Nat and Wanda. They’d been your shoulder to cry on, your punching bag during a few of the worst moments and the ones who weren’t scared to tell you the truth.
You thought you’d never be able to put you and Bucky behind you. You’d changed your mind that morning, but he’d already left and you'd been too late. You thought you’d never find love again, but you did. However, you couldn’t help but have Bucky on the back of your mind. Was moving on the right thing to do? 
The man you’d met was great. He was handsome, thoughtful and caring. He was funny and supportive. He was patient and kind. He made you smile and laugh until your stomach hurt. And lastly, he loved you. 
The way you two met was how almost every romance movie began. You two had met in a coffee shop. You had been sitting at the corner table and he’d come and asked you about how his outfit looked. 
“Excuse me, miss?” 
You’d looked up from your phone, “Yes?” 
He smiled softly at you, “Can I bother you with a question?” 
You were hesitant and he could tell, but he hoped you’d go along with it. “Sure, what’s your question?” You set down your phone to give him your full attention. 
“How does my outfit look?” 
You raised an eyebrow at him and nervously bit his lip, “Well you see, I’m about to ask the most beautiful woman out and I want to make sure I look good enough.” 
“Um.... you look good. I guess?” You laughed and he chuckled, “Okay great. So, would you like to go on a date?” 
You’d smiled and shook your head with a laugh, “Smooth. That was real smooth.” 
He’d been the first guy since Bucky and part of you couldn’t help but feel guilty for trying to move on. 
You worked as an agent in the tower, deciding it was best to stay out of the field and find a more stable job. Your heels clicked the floor as your fingers worked through the papers in your hands. You were meeting with a few other agents and was about to enter the room when Nat came and stopped you, “Y/n there’s something you should know.” 
“Nat, what is it? I’m late for a meeting.” You tried to get passed her but she didn’t move, “Nat, I’m late for that meeting, I have to go.” 
“y/n, maybe it would be best-” 
You pushed passed her and entered into the room, “Nat I told you, i’m-” 
“We’re glad to have you back, Bucky.” Steve gave his best friend a hug, patting him firmly on the back. 
You’d stopped dead in your tracks when you heard Steve and then you saw him. 
“I told you there was something you should know.” Nat said from behind you. 
Bucky’s eyes met yours from across the room. His hair was longer and he had almost a full beard. You could even tell he’d gained some weight; all muscle of course. “Hey, doll.” 
You could feel your heart pounding in your chest. All the emotions you’d pushed away and moved on from came flooding back with just one look; just a few words. You took a step toward the conference table and laid your stack of papers down, “I-I need some air...” 
You quickly exited the room, wanting to put as much space between you and Bucky. He was back. After more than a year, he was back. 
“Wait, y/n!” Bucky called out after you, but Nat blocked the exit, putting a hand out on his chest, “Don’t.” 
“Nat, move.” 
Nat shook her head and Steve intervened, “I think it would be best to give her some space.” Steve laid a hand on his friends shoulder, “She’s been through a lot since you left.” 
“What happened while I was gone? We broke up, I mean... we both agreed on it.” Bucky took a seat at the conference table. 
“She changed her mind that morning, Buck.” Steve answers. 
“But you had already left and there was no way to contact you. You were on a secret mission and it could have blown your whole cover.” Nat adds. 
“She changed her mind?” Bucky asks, “And I was already gone.” 
Steve sadly nods, taking a seat next to him, “She went through hell, Bucky. I thought she’d never recover.” 
Bucky runs a hand through his hair, “I thought ending things was best for us. She deserved better than me and I wanted her to have everything she’d ever wanted.” 
Nat pats his shoulder, “All she wanted was you, Bucky.” 
Your hands gripped the balcony to keep yourself steady and you let the sobs escape. You were moved on, you were moving on with another man, making a life for yourself without Bucky. And now Bucky was back? What were you going to do? 
A hand was laid on your back and you jumped, “It’s just me.” 
You let out a sigh of relief at the sight of nat and quickly wiped your eyes, “Nat...” 
“I know.” she gives a sad smile and gathers you into her arms when you begin to sob again. 
“Hey, doll? I mean really? That’s what he says?” 
“You have to remember, he didn’t know you’d changed your mind. He had no idea. You can’t hold that against him.” 
“I know... I-I just hate that he still looks so good and is able to make me fall in love with him all over again.” You groan, wiping your eyes, “Why couldn’t he have gotten ugly while he was gone?” 
She laughs a little, rubbing your back, “If only it was that easy... Are you going to be able to finish the meeting? You can go home. We all understand.” 
You shook your head, “No. No, I’m fine.” You take a deep breath, “I’ll be fine.” 
You and Nat walked back to the conference room and you all finished out the meeting. You never made eye contact with Bucky and you sat far away from him, but that didn’t keep him from looking at you. You knew he was stealing glances and could feel his eyes on you and it took everything in your power not to look back. 
After the meeting was over, you tried to gather your belongings as quickly as possible and slip out before Bucky knew you were gone. That didn’t happen though. 
“Y/n, wait!” Bucky pushed passed a few people to follow you, “Sorry, excuse me.” He mumbles to people, “Y/n!” 
You only quicken your pace, but Bucky catches up to you with ease, grabbing your elbow and stepping in front of you. 
“Y/n, please.” His eyes are begging, “We need to talk.” 
“No. I have places to be. I don’t have time to talk.” You say going around him, but he side steps and blocks your view. 
“I didn’t know you had changed your mind.” 
“Obviously, Bucky.” You finally meet his eyes. 
“Can we go somewhere more private to talk? Please?” 
“y/n?” 
You and Bucky both turned to the sound of your voice. “I was just on my way down to meet you two.” 
Bucky was in shock at the sight before him and couldn’t form words. 
Your boyfriend, Liam walked closer, “I was beginning to worry.. You weren’t in your office.” His free hand went to your back and he gave you a kiss, glancing at Bucky. He knew of Bucky and what had happened. 
“Yeah, sorry about that. The meeting ran over.” 
“Y/n?” Bucky asked breathless and still in shock. There was no way. 
“Yeah, she looks just like you, doesn’t she?” You trade Liam the papers in your hands and take the dark haired baby girl into your arms. “There’s mama’s girl.” You kiss her head and run your hand over her hair. This was the reason you were still fighting today, the reason you made it through the worst months of your life and the reason you still couldn’t let go of Bucky once and for all. 
Marvel tag list: @hommoturttle​ , @iheartsebastianstan​ , @5jacobm5​ ,
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onechicagorpf · 5 years ago
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Not A Stranger - Part 3
Pairing: Jay Halstead x Reader (Chicago Med intern)
Waking up in bed next to a random naked guy after a drunken night out usually sucks, but eh, whatever. you’ll never see him again, right? Well except this time, random naked guy turns out to be your ED attending’s little brother, so maybe you’re a little bit screwed…
Read Part 1 here Read Part 2 here Read Part 4 here
Warnings: SMUT. A little bit of R-rated smut! Swearing, the usual cuss words. Some angst/PTSD, although it’s not overtly discussed. Dubious medical content (discussion of amputation & blood), some of which has been shamelessly lifted from a season 3 episode of Code Black!
A/N: So there’s definitely going to be a Part 4, lol! I’ll try and have it out by this time next week. Send me asks/messages/leave a note if you liked this and want to see more - it really makes me feel so much less insecure about my writing ahaha! Also do send me short prompts or requests that I can fill as blurbs (i.e. nothing that’s going to be a several chapter story - I will request those later on!) - preferably for Jay but I can do Will as well! Female!Halstead sibling is also okay :) Anyway enough talking, enjoy!
PS: I make mention of bearded Jay in this chapter; this gif is totally the version of him I had in my head for this chapter!
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"Walter Holden. 16 years old, victim of an auto accident, came in with a dislocated right leg."
There's droplets of rain on the other side of the windows. It blurs the view - all of a sudden, the buildings you can usually see from the 13th floor of the hospital are just fuzzy, beige blocks.
"Preliminary exam showed no other major trauma, and his vital signs were strong. His leg just had to be reset."
A shudder goes down your spine - was the hospital's conference room always this cold? Well, you don't know - you've never been in here before.
"Dr Halstead advised 10 mil of morphine, but the patient refused pain medication, and the leg was reset. It was at this point that Dr Halstead handed the patient off to Dr Y/L/N, requesting her to evaluate his leg for blood flow."
There's been a strange tapping noise for the last 5 minutes, but only now do you realise it's your fingers against the oval, wooden table.
"Dr Y/L/N? Dr Y/L/N!" You snap out of your reverie and look up. Dr Lanik's glaring at you. You apologise. He takes his seat, next to Mrs Goodwin and Will, both of whom send you a soft smile that doesn't quite reach their eyes. They're trying to be reassuring, but it doesn't matter - you're ready to drown yourself.
Clearing your throat, you speak. "I was instructed to evaluate his right leg for blood flow. I did so by checking his pulses, uh, dorsalis pedis and posterior tibialis." You pause, as some of the other occupants in the conference room - all members of the board or lawyers, all wearing pristine suits and a cold, calculating expression - turned to look at each other.
You clear your throat again. "It was a uh, a textbook exam."
"I'm sorry, in which textbook does it say to check for an arterial injury by just palpating a pulse?" Dr Lanik cuts in sharp.  Will closes his eyes, as you struggle to breath normally.
"90% of all patients - "
"I can't hear you, Dr Y/L/N." Dr Lanik's voice booms across the room, and Will's had it.
"This is ridiculous, there's no need to be intimidating her like this - she's a first year resident and - "
"And she was satisfied with a pulse check to evaluate blood flow? Do I need to remind everyone here that the acceptable course of action in this scenario is to order a doppler or an ABI? That boy's leg was sitting for ages without proper blood flow, and eventually the best we could do for him was amputate it."
Will shakes his head vehemently. "Pathology's looked over the leg - they determined that the severity of the accident combined with the amount of time it took CFD to extricate Holden from the car meant that his leg wasn't viable before he even stepped into the ED." Will turns to you, his eyes piercing as he spoke directly to you.
"There was nothing you could've done that would've changed the outcome. Nothing."
You take a deep breath. You don't nod.
"Alright, we've heard everything we need to hear." The head of the legal department says, after a few moments of discussion with the board members. "Given the findings from Pathology, we will not be terminating Dr Y/L/N's employment here at Chicago Med. However, we recommend that her OR privileges be revoked, and that she is attached to an attending for a duration of 2 months, by which point hopefully she will learn that not every case is a textbook case." She stares directly at you. "Dismissed." Chairs scrape against the floor as everyone makes their leave.
Will places his hand on your shoulder, and you realise you haven't moved even after everyone's left.
His voice is soft. "We all make mistakes. And - "
"I could've been the reason he lost his leg. If he'd come in with ample time to save the leg, and I just - and I just didn't realise it, I could've been the reason a kid had to lose a leg." There's tears in your eyes as you turn to look at Will, who just sighs.
"Yeah. But that's not what happened."
"I got lucky." You shrug, tears freely streaming down your face now. "I just got lucky."
Will doesn't say anything. He just hugs you.
***
It's not the kind of thing you just get over, you realise, because it's been 5 days since it happened but you can't get it out of your head. You've been barely getting any sleep; often you jerk awake in the middle of the night or the early hours of the morning, after which it's next to impossible to fall asleep again. It's also affecting your work more than just making you tired - you keep second-guessing your medical judgements, deferring to Will or Natalie or Ethan for anything and everything. None of them bite at you for it, because they know what's going on and they know what you're going through, but some part of you wishes they would. Wishes that they'd just grab you by the shoulders and shake you, and say "Be a damn doctor."
Dr Charles met with you for lunch earlier today, and you lamented your troubles. The kind and thoughtful psychiatrist patiently listened, before giving you some wisdom you needed to hear. Amongst which was "find a distraction".
"You mean focus on something else?" You asked, chasing a watermelon cube at the bottom of your fruit cup.
"Yeah, but it's a little bit of a dangerous tactic. See, you don't want to distract yourself from dealing with the pain and the guilt you feel, because emotions don't tend to go away when you suppress them like that. But if you're having trouble processing it, it can be helpful to take your mind off of it for a while, wait til some time has passed and it's not so...intense. And maybe then it'll be easier to tackle and get over, y'know?" Dr Charles advised and you nodded, taking it in.
You think about what exactly you could do to distract yourself as you finish your shift and make your way towards your car in the parking lot.
Maybe I should take up painting?
The thought of yourself - little miss notoriously bad at anything artsy - trying to paint has you chuckling softly. You're about to give up on this whole distract yourself thing when, as if on cue, your phone buzzes with a text message. You get into your car, turn on the heating, and pull out your phone.
J.H. 11:32PM
So...guess who's back :)
You can't help the smile on your face. Jay's been undercover for the past week - it actually got started the next morning after the night you went over for "hockey". He'd gotten a text early in the morning asking him to come in, and so the two of you had actually barely spoken since...the festivities of that night.
You 11:33PM
Congrats, detective :)
J.H. 11:33PM
Wanna come over and help me celebrate?
Huh. Well maybe Dr Charles wasn't off-target with the whole "distract yourself" thing - although you're positive having meaningless sex is probably not one of the healthy methods of distraction that he was envisioning.
But quickly, you realise it doesn't matter - ever since what happened, you haven't been sleeping well at night. It's been close to 6 days and you're wrecked, so maybe some good, tires-you-out-completely sex is exactly what you need?
You 11:34PM
Be there in 15
 J.H. 11:34PM
Can't wait :)
 Your lips curve into a smile as you pull out of the parking lot and down into the main road.
***
"I've been waiting to do this...for so long..." Jay murmurs in your ear before pressing kisses down the side of your neck, his hands roaming all over your body. You tilt your head to the side, exposing the expanse of your neck to him.
“It’s only been…a couple ‘a days…” You reply softly, and you feel Jay’s huffs of soft laughter into your neck. You turn to look at him, pulling away. “What?”
There’s a teasing smile on his face. “Most women take it as a compliment if a guy says he hasn’t stopped thinking about her.”
You shake you head, putting on a teasing look, “Uh-uh, that’s not what you said, you said you’ve been wanting to do this – ”
“It was implied – ”
“It wasn’t implied and even if it was – ”
“It was implied and even if it wasn’t, that’s still a compliment.” Jay says pointedly, a huge grin on his face. You narrow your eyes at him, trying to hide the growing smile on your face. He chuckles, seeing right through you.
You smack his arm. “You keep laughing at me in bed and I’m gonna get mad.” This gets Jay full-on laughing, and your jaw drops in pretend-outrage. “You fucking – ”
“No, no, no c’mere – ” Jay pacifies you, leaning over you, arms on either side of you as he starts to kiss your face, your jaw, the corner of your mouth. But there’s still the slightest smile pulling up the corners of his lips, and when he presses them to your lips, you can’t help but laugh into the kiss. Jay reaches up and holds your face, the kiss becoming soft, loving, drawn-out, and some feeling deep in your core tells you you’re just…somewhere else right now. You don’t know how to describe it, other than that everything in this moment feels perfect, feels right.
A shiver goes down your spine, and maybe it’s because Jay’s shifted, and is now sucking a spot on the base of your neck, hard and strong and deep, and his hands are skimming downwards, unbuttoning your soft cotton top before unzipping your jeans. And maybe it’s because you don’t know what the fuck you are doing here, with him, with all of this. You think about how wrong this is, how bad this is, how his brother’s your boss and this was just supposed to be one drunken hookup and then it became two (except you weren’t even drunk that time) and now it’s about to become three –
“Y/N?” Jay calls softly, and you look at him – his hands resting gently over the hem of your panties, his face hovering over the space between your legs, and the look of…almost reverence in his shining green eyes.
You stop thinking.
Your hands reach downward, sliding your panties off and Jay eagerly helps, getting them off completely. Just like last time, Jay draws out the foreplay – kissing, licking, and nipping at the skin of your inner thighs, making the heat in your core build. Running your fingers through his dark hair, you yank it a little to get him to get going, and he pinches your hip – a quick slap of the wrist. Laughing, you repeat the action, pulling on his hair, and he groans.
“You’re real impatient, you know?”
“Jayyyyyyyy,” You whine, pouting down at him. He’s got this look of a predator – a confident, cocky smile on his face. Jay dips his head down, his mouth making contact with your cunt.
“There we go,” You murmur, gasping as you feel his hot breath on your most sensitive regions. Jay’s hands grip tight into your supple skin, holding your thighs open for him as his tongue circles your opening. Your back arcs as you moan, the sensation of his tongue on you setting off what feels like fireworks in your head. Jay’s mouth presses into you, hard and deep, his tongue licking and lapping at your now sopping wet cunt.
“Fuck, fuck, fuck – ” You whisper, eyelids fluttering shut as Jay softly flicks his tongue over your clit. He repeats the motion, going up and down, teasing your clit and your hip jerks upwards sharply in response. Settling your ass back down against his soft sheets, you catch your breath and mutter a soft apology – “Shit, sorry,” – and Jay taps your thigh, a silent “don’t worry about it”, as he’s nosed his way back between your legs immediately.
Jay laps at your folds and you try to keep your head about you, try to not lose your mind, but it just feels so good. He sucks your clit into his mouth gently and your eyes roll into the back of your head. “Oh my god, ohhh my god – fuck!” You whimper, as he keeps sucking your clit, pausing to flick his tongue over it. Your fingers clutch the sheets around you hard enough to rip holes in them. The loud moans out of your mouth are bordering on screams. The feeling in your core, the heat, starts rising like a wave reaching a shore –
“I’m gonna – I’m gonna – I’m gonna – ah, ah, ahhhh – fuck! Fuck, fuck – Jay! Jay!” You scream, your vision whiting out completely as you arch off the bed, riding out the waves of pleasure wrecking your body. You hands fly downwards to grab Jay’s head as you jerk away from his still-working mouth, your oversensitive clit causing tears to pool in your eyes. Pulling him up, you whisper his name over and over again, like he’s the only gospel you know. Jay shifts up, laying down next to you and pulling you close, your bodies fitting into each other like a perfect pair of puzzle pieces. You look at him through your teary eyes and all you see are his green irises staring right back at you with a measure of something dark and lustful in them. You hold his face in your hands, running a thumb over the rough stubble of his cheeks, his jaw, where a soft beard has started to grow. His lips are glossy and wet, from you, and you see now there’s a soft pink line going across his nose that you trace with your hands, frowning.
“I’m okay,” Jay says in a soothing voice.
“What happened?” You ask, concerned, the frown between your eyebrows deepening as you look up at him.
A soft smile. “Kinda got into a fight. Guy tried to punch me, I dodged it, but his fingernail scratched me. It’s fine.” Jay replies quickly, and his face is so close to yours that you’re breathing the same air. You don’t say anything, but you must still be frowning because Jay speaks again. “It’s literally just a scratch.” You hum softly in response, running your hands down his front, unbuttoning his shirt, scanning the expanse of his chest and abdomen with your fingertips and your eyes.
Jay lifts your chin and you turn back to him. “What?”
“Are you checking me for other injuries?” He asks, chuckling. You look back down, pausing for a moment. “Maybe…it’s not like you’d tell me if you got hurt, right?” Jay just laughs, and there’s your answer. You ignore the burgeoning feelings in your heart of some kind of dejection.
Your fingers run over a sliver of raised skin, on his lower right flank. It’s a thin, pale pink scar that runs about 3 inches. You work in an ED – you know exactly what this is.
“You were stabbed?” You ask, stunned. “When?”
Jay sighs, grabbing your fingers in his hand and holding them closed. “Army stuff. Not a big deal.” He pushes your fingers away to your own body, and then reaches for the blanket and pulls it up over the two of you, like as if the conversation’s over.
“You don’t want to talk about the Army,” you point out, as Jay lays on his back, some distance between the two of you. He sighs again, looking upwards at the ceiling. “Is that a question or a statement?”
You know you shouldn’t push, but you do anyway.
“You should talk to someone about it  – ”
“I talk to people about it. I have.” Jay’s voice is tight. He’s still not looking at you.
“You can talk to me about it...” You say, and you’re terrified. Because what you’re really asking is “Do you think I’m close enough, do you care about me enough to let me in?”.
Jay turns to you, a soft smile on his face. “It’s fine. I’ve got other people for that.”
Hiding the immense desolation that’s weighing like an anchor on your chest from showing, you just send a shallow smile his way. 
He’s got other people for that. He’s got other people for sharing his feelings, his pain, his suffering, his life. He doesn’t want you for that, I mean, why would he share all of that with you? You’re just a warm body – some random girl he’s having sex with. Nothing more.
You pull the blankets tighter around you, turning away from Jay. Trying your best to quell the wave of sadness flooding what feels like every single part of you, you drift asleep. 
***
“Dr Y/N?”
You turn, and there’s Walter Holden on a bed in the ED.
“Walter?” You walk to his side, stunned. He’s crying – tears spilling out of his soft baby blue eyes, his youthful face scrunched up in pain and anguish.
“Why did you do this to me? Why?!” He yells, his voice cracking. You shake your head. “Walter, Walter I’m so sorry – I didn’t know, I didn’t know, I didn’t mean to – ” You choke on your words, and as you look down the bed you realise that Walter’s amputated leg is bleeding at the stump.
“Oh god, oh my god – ” You get up, shocked as the blood starts gushing. Walter screams.
“Help me! Dr Y/N – help me! Help me!”
You hear your heart hammering in your ears, your head is spinning, you stand up and you feel faint.
Will rushes into the room. He starts holding as much gauze as he can to Walter’s leg. Nurses and doctors flood the room, and they begin moving Walter out. You’re standing, back pressed to the treatment room wall, aghast. 
Will turns to you, his face red with rage. “What are you even doing?! Fucking hell, Y/N – you can’t do anything right?!”
There’s a painful lump in your throat, and you can’t breathe. Something grabs your hand and you snap your head. It’s Walter, and as they wheel his bed out, he looks at you with so much fury and torment in his eyes.
“YOU DON’T DESERVE TO BE A DOCTOR!”
“No, no, no, I’m so sorry Walter, I’m so sorry – I’m so sorry – this can’t be happening, no, no no no – ” Tears stream down your face and you start shaking. Your knees buckle, and you fall to the ground, sobs wracking your body. Somewhere in the distance, you hear your name being called, but you can’t answer, you can’t do this anymore, you can’t – you just can’t…
“Y/N! Y/N!”
You jolt, your eyes flying open. Jay’s over you, his eyebrows drawn together, his eyes wide, concerned, his hands holding your shoulders where you realise he’s been shaking you – shaking you because – because –
Fuck.
It was a fucking nightmare. Again.
You let out a cry of pain, bringing your hands up to cover your face. “Breathe, just breathe.” Jay says softly, rubbing your arms up and down.
After about a minute, when you don’t feel so shaken anymore, you wipe your eyes and slowly sit up. Jay shifts with you, sitting right next to you. You can’t look him in the eyes.
“I’m – I’m sorry I woke you,” you whisper to your palms, resting atop your folded legs.
“Don’t – don’t worry about that. Y/N, what happened? It sounded pretty bad…” Jay says and you shake your head.
“I’m fine, it’s fine – ” Your hands run through your hair roughly. You need to go. You need to go – you need to leave – you can’t be here –you can’t be here with him –
“Hey. Hey,” Jay repeats, when you don’t answer. He reaches across and his warm hard gently grabs your face, trying to get you to look at him but you just push his hand away. You get up, grabbing your underwear and jeans from the ground and start getting dressed.
“Y/N!” Jay gets off the bed, and comes to you. You sidestep him, or at least you try to, but he’s much taller than you and his shoulders are broad; he stands in your way and grabs your arms softly.
“Y/N, look at me – ”
“Why?” 
You give him what he wants. You look up at him, you stare him directly in his eyes, shaking in anger and fear and what feels like the weight of the world on your shoulders. 
“Hmm? Why? This isn’t – you don’t care – what does it matter –” You yell at him, your mind frazzled as you fall apart in his arms.
The frown on Jay’s face gets deeper, and he shakes his head, leaning close. “Hey, talk to me. C’mon, you can talk to me – ”
“Why the fuck would I talk to you? You’re just some guy I’m sleeping with!” You spit harshly, shaking his hands off and stepping back. Jay’s mouth falls open, and his shoulders sag. His face contorts into something awful - dismay, defeat, hurt.
For a moment, you want to run back into his arms – apologise, say you didn’t mean it, say you’re just scared – but you don’t. You move around him, grabbing your shirt. You put it on and make your way out of his bedroom, and out of his apartment.
You don’t know why you said what you did. Actually, scratch that, you know exactly why you said that. In fact, you know exactly why you’re what you’re doing.
Every relationship you’ve ever had up to this point’s fucked you over. Every single one. You’ve been cheated on, you’ve been lied to, you’ve been told you were just some piece of ass, not an actual girlfriend. And now?
Now you’re scared shitless of what this thing between the two of you is. You’re scared shitless that you’re making a mistake by screwing around with your boss’s brother and you’re –
Well.
You’re scared shitless you’re falling for him.
So, you do what you do best. Dump out of this, push the self-destruct button. Get him to push you away so you don’t have to go through the pain of falling for the guy you can’t have. The one that you know’s going to screw you over, because he’s going to realise he only really sees you as a hookup – that he doesn’t love you.
You try to hold back the tears, because you’re driving home and the last thing you need right now is a car accident. There’s a buzzing sound from your phone and you perk up. As much as you want to tell yourself to not get your hopes high, you can’t help yourself, and you speed down the road to the red light so you can push the brakes and wait. Your fingers wrap around your phone and you immediately check the screen. 
The smile on your face falls – it’s just a stupid notification from Instagram. You toss your phone back onto the passenger seat, hard enough that it bounces off and hits the ground. Tears once again threaten to fill your eyes, and there’s a painful lump in your throat. You swipe at your cheeks, where a single tear has made its escape, and turn to look at the screen next to your steering wheel – it shows the time as 3:45AM. Leaning back against your car seat, a deep sigh exits your lungs.
You realise there’s no way you’re going to sleep again today, what with the whole Jay thing on top of the Walter Holden nightmare that’s been haunting you for the last 6 days now.
The lights turn green.
Swearing under your breath, you throw your car into a U-turn and drive to Med instead.
859 notes · View notes
teenytinystorage · 5 years ago
Note
Can you make a fanfic with Logan and Deceit only talking in memes
Hi!! so I don’t think this is exactly what you wanted... but I love them Brain Cell Bois so i hope you enjoy!!
•——•
Vocab Cards
Summary: Logan is very much Struggling with learning new slang, but who decides to actually help the Disaster Nerd but the slimy snake boy Deceit? Welp, this’ll be interesting.
Word Count: 1,291
Warnings: one (1) “not wanting to hurl” mention, implied body horror
Genre: Fluff?? Probably?
Pairings: Platonic/Romantic Loceit
-
“You know,” Deceit quipped, staring down at his gloved fingers as he stood in front of the camera and to the left of Logan, “you’re not very good at those.”
“At what?” Logan responded quickly, stuffing his “LOL” vocabulary card back into his jeans pocket as the other sides watched the two banter.
“Those vocabulary cards! Oh, you ‘ought to have someone teach you this stuff,” Deceit flicked his tongue at his teeth, “Who am I kidding, I’d even write some cards for you at this point,” he snickered before turning to Thomas. “But Thomas--”
-
So then, Deceit knows some slang, Logan thought, Deceit’s wittiness still ringing in his ears even after the video ended and the sides each dispersed into their respective rooms.
He sat at his computer, typing and retyping LOL into UrbanDictionary to make sure that, yes, his card was right, LOL was an acronym that stood for “laughing out loud” and he had his definition right on the card.
He even used it the right way too. He said, “Thomas, this is not a LOL matter.”
That’s the right usage. Sure it messed up the phrase “laughing matter” up a bit, but it was hip, so it didn’t matter too much.
So why was it so badly received? Did Deceit really know more about this whole slang deal than he did?
I’d even write some cards for you at this point, Deceit had said earlier.
Hm. Hmmm. Hm indeed.
Logan could use the outside perspective, in his opinion. He knew it wasn’t reliable to have only one source on anything, but for slang, he could never find any other “reliable sources” (HUGE air quotes on that, UrbanDictionary was in no way a college-research-paper-worthy site) but one; everything else just made no sense and was contradictory and confusing.
Maybe conferring with a knowledgeable colleague on the subject could be useful? That always helped with the scientific method. And Logan was basically going into this whole trend thing blind anyways, so it wasn’t like any conversation between them could hurt.
This line of thinking led Logan to stand from his seat, stuff a few blank index cards into his pockets and a ballpoint pen in there too for good measure. He gave one final adjustment of his glasses before sinking down into the classy snake-faced side’s room.
-
Deceit, sitting on his couch, engrossed in a copy of The Picture of Dorian Gray, gave a glance and then a double-take of Logan before sighing heavily and shutting his book.
“Ep ep ep--” Deceit held his pointer finger up in the air, “before you ask, yes, Remus did your little project and confirmed that we can regenerate limbs. And before you ask, no, I did not ask how he found it out because I didn’t care nor did I want to hurl today.”
“I actually came here to-- wait, really?” Logan responded, surprised, taking out an index card and quickly jotting down the findings. “Fascinating.”
“It’s ickier to me than it is fascinating, no cap,” Deceit complained as he smoothed the fringe peeking out from his hat. “But it’s your research and not mine, so go off, I suppose.”
Then Logan, upon hearing Deceit’s confusing phrases about hats and/or glacial structures and his encouragement for Logan to keep researching and/or to leave (slang was so confusing), remembered what he came here for in the first place.
“Right, Deceit,” Logan stuffed his index card of findings into his pants pocket, adding, “Earlier today I used a slang term that I believe stands for ‘laughing out loud,’ but your reaction implied to me that I may have been incorrect in the context of its usage. Would you care to elaborate on that?” Logan asked, clicking the pen in his pocket a few times as he spoke.
Deceit lounged back on the couch and held the back of his head in his hands. “Cssssertainly. You should totally use acronyms as if they’re the actual words they stand for, it definitely isn’t cringe-worthy at all.”
Logan, bewildered at the fact that Deceit even decided to answer his query (or humor him, more likely), quickly filed the information into his brain. “Oh. Oh, okay. And would you be willing to maintain your offer of assisting me with inscribing more vocabulary cards?”
“I hope you realize that was just some quick and witty charm of mine,” Deceit hummed. “You do take things very seriously though. That’s just your vibe.”
Logan’s expression faltered a bit. “Oh.”
Deceit paused, glancing his eyes up at the ceiling irritatedly before looking back at Logan. “You know what? If it keeps you from committing any other word atrocities such as the one today, then sure, I’ll help.”
“Really?” Logan replied just barely before he sank out and perused the internet for at least four hours for new slang terms on his own. “You would?”
“Sure. But I’m not a meme connoisseur by any means, I leave that to the raccoon. I’ll still try my best, though.”
-
It was relatively quiet in Deceit’s room after Deceit’s initial lecturings, including “never describe emojis out loud in words” and “for the love of your nonexistent mother, please never use ‘periodt’ like it’s actual punctuation.”
“So was it Lebanese or lesbian?” Logan asked, scribbling on another index card and laying stomach-down on the floor.
“It was lesbian,” Deceit said, sitting vertically and upside-down on the couch with his head almost on the floor and his hat barely hanging onto his head.
“Ah,” Logan commented, finishing the card. “Is the humor supposed to arise from the child thinking the camera-lady said Lebanese instead of lesbian, which conflicts with her allegedly American nationality?”
“No one knows,” Deceit answered.
“Ah, of course,” Logan replied, setting the card into a now growing stack of finished terms.
The two kept writing.
“Ok, here’s a test,” Deceit said a few minutes later, turning to Logan. “And they were roommates.”
Logan took a second before responding, monotonously, that is, “Oh my god, they were roommates.”
Deceit nodded his head in surprise. “You’re getting good at this.”
“You think so?” Logan asked, a small sense of accomplishment seeping into him.
“Well you’re certainly better than the LOL matter from before,” Deceit commented, chuckling.
-
Soon the next video had already started before Logan knew it.
“But doesn’t it seem like the right thing to do here is help?” Patton asked, twiddling his fingers together.
Thomas sighed.
“Well, I think that y’all’d’ve a bit of patience for Thomas. His vibes are a bit whack at the moment, no cap,” Logan interjected, still in his monotone voice.
The sides, and Thomas as well, stared at Logan in disbelief.
“What?” Logan peered around the room.
“Where did you learn all that?” Virgil asked, jaw hanging open and eyes wide.
“Deceit taught me a bit more about slang so I don’t inspire any more cringe-fests for you all.”
“Weird flex, but okay,” Deceit replied, rising up next to Logan.
“Agh!! Can you just leave— him—” Virgil shot a glare at Deceit, “—out of this??” Virgil pleaded, now irritated and growling under his breath. “I’ve already had my fair share of sleep-paralysis demons for today.”
“Quite uncommon for the Protohype to be so well-versed in lingo,” Roman mused. “But alas, go forth I proclaim.”
“Yeah, good work Logan, but what is Deceit doing here again?” Thomas asked, to which Patton replied: “Yeah, I think Thomas has his mind pretty well made up on this decision already!”
“Oh please,” Deceit started.
Logan couldn’t help but, for a moment, revel in his success, before, of course, going back to being the coolest cool teacher cool guy in the entire Thomas-sphere.
What a nice thing it is to learn, isn’t it?
-
139 notes · View notes
haikyuu-drabble · 5 years ago
Note
Hi! Of you are taking requests may I have a #2 or #26 for miya atsumu please.
hi! so like u this ended up being 22 pages lol.... i just really have a huge crush on atsumu so god help ME!!! **MANGA SPOILERS IF YOUVE NOT READ UNTIL CHAP 378***
THANK YOU FOR REQUESTING!!
--------------------------------
atsumu x reader | change
26. i think i’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again
word count: 8607
“Aren’t you going to head to the meeting soon?” your coworker called out to you.
“Ennoshita!” You were gathering some things off of your desk, “I was just headed there, right now.”
“What was the meeting going to be about again?” he asked you.
“The company that hired us to write the script for that commercial wants us to meet the person they chose to sponsor.” you explained.
“Right! That ramen company.” he clapped, “They’ve finally chosen who would really suit the image for it. I’m glad you were picked to write for this project!”
“Thanks.” you laughed, “I’ll see you later. I’m heading over!”
“Tell me who we ended up choosing once you find out!” Ennoshita called out.
You gave him a thumbs up in response and headed out on your way.
Your boss had finally given you a chance to prove yourself, and there was no way you were going to let this opportunity pass you by.
In the beginning of the meeting, your boss went over the normal procedures. However, he added, “Our clients want you to get to know the athlete better and edit the project to fit him more.”
You easily agreed to that. You felt that there was nothing that your boss could have said that might have stopped you. That was until they introduced who was going to be starring in all the ads that you’d be designing.
The person who walked in was none other than Miyu Atsumu. His shocked expression when he saw you must have mirrored yours because he was the last person you were ever expecting to see in this room.
“You’ve got to be kidding me.” you muttered to yourself.
Your boss looked in your direction and asked, “What was that?”
You feigned a smile and said, “Great choice for this project!”
Once the meeting was concluded, your boss looked at you, “Can you exchange numbers with Miya? That way it’ll be easier to get into contact with each other.”
Atsumu smiled at your boss, “That’s quite alright. I believe we already have each others numbers!”
Atsumu looked at you and smirked, and you looked at your boss, “We’ve been acquainted for some time actually. I don’t know if getting to know him a bit better would actually be necessary.”
“Sorry, no can do. It’s the clients request, and I’m not going to be the one to tell them no.” he responded.
You nodded at your boss, and he exited the conference room, leaving you and Atsumu alone. You rubbed your temples, “I can’t believe this is happening.”
Atsumu grinned, “Who would have believed that I’d be working with my ex for my first commercial?”
“I could literally say the same thing.” you sighed, “Look. Can’t we just tell my boss that we meet up and stuff? Then, I’ll edit the script a little bit, and we all win in the end. You don’t have to see me, and I don’t have to see you, but everyone thinks we did.”
A devious smile grew on his face, “You know, I’m feeling like it’s time I straighten myself out.”
“What?” you deadpanned at him, very confused.
Atsumu continued, “I really think that I’ve got to stop lying. ‘Samu’s always on me about that, and I just think today is the day that I change that. We should really listen to your boss and hang out for that script of yours.”
Your shoulders dropped, “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
“It’s been a while since you’ve seen me. I could’ve changed here or there.” he smiled.
“I doubt it. It seems like you like to rile me up the same way as before.”
“Well, I guess I’ll just have to tell your boss that you aren’t doing what he says.” he smirked, “Hopefully, they’ll still accept you as the writer for the commercial.”
“Fine! Fine!” you gave in and pulled out your phone, “What’s your number?”
Atsumu raised a brow, “Seriously?”
“I deleted your number when we broke up. I never expected I’d be needing it ever again.” you admitted.
He begrudgingly grabbed your phone out of your hand and entered his number, “I hope to be hearing from you soon!”
“Don’t wait too long.” you sighed.
That night was a work department dinner, and you ended up at an izakaya. After a couple of drinks, everyone was starting to get a little chattier and louder. Ennoshita exclaimed, “Wait! You dated The Miya Atsumu?”
“Not so loud!” you covered his mouth with your hand, “It’s really not that cool.”
He pulled your hand off him and whispered, “You’re kidding, right? He literally has a fan club dedicated to him and just had an article written about how he’s one of the top sports bachelors.”
“Him? Really?” you snorted, “Wait, how do you even know that?”
“I hear stuff!” he shrugged, “But still, I can’t believe you! How did you two even meet?!”
“We met through common friends, and it just kind of happened.” you took a sip of your beer.
Your friend rested his chin on his hand, “So then, how long did you two date?”
“Almost four years.” you answered.
“Four years?!” Ennoshita exclaimed.
“Can you relax!” You looked to see if anyone overhead and stared at the foam in your glass, “It was a long time ago.”
He asked, “So, how is working with Miya Atsumu?”
“It’s interesting,” you veered.
“Intersting?” he chuckled, “What do you mean by that? Are things awkward?”
“Not really.” you shook your head, “Atsumu isn’t the type to let things like this really affect him.”
“What about you?” your friend asked, “Are you comfortable working with him?”
You rolled your eyes a bit, “Sadly, that doesn’t matter. I feel like if I really want to be respected as a scriptwriter, I have to deal with all the punches I’m dealt. If I don’t, no one will take me seriously.”
The next day, you were at your desk looking over some paperwork when you got a text from Atsumu. He was telling you to eat dinner with him. You replied, “No way! This is so last minute. I have things to do.”
You sent the text and put your phone face down on your desk. While you were dating, maybe planning things last minute was fine, but you didn’t owe him anything anymore.
You went back to reviewing some of your work and had gone uninterrupted for a good fifteen minutes. That was when your phone started ringing. You peeked at the caller ID and saw Atsumu’s name.
You grabbed your phone and headed into the hallway. You answered the phone, “Atsumu, are you being serious right now?”
“Yes.” he replied, “Let’s get sushi tonight. I’m craving fatty tuna.”
“I told you that I can’t. I have work to do tonight.”
“Well, I could just go to you, and tell your boss that you’ve been too busy to go on dates with me.”
“Dates?” you repeated, “We are not going on dates.”
“Dates or spending time… same thing isn’t it? I mean, I can talk to your boss about it the whole thing later when I stop by.”
“No! Don’t do that.” you looked at your pile of work on your desk and gave in, “What time?”
“Great!” he cheered, “I’ll send you the address, and let’s meet at seven.”
“Okay.” you sighed.
“See you then!” you could hear his grin through the phone.
You hung up your phone and tossed it to the edge of your desk. If you were going to get anywhere close to finishing all your work you had to get rid of all distractions.
You found yourself speed walking to the restaurant that Atsumu sent you. You managed to finish all your work, but you did have to stay just a tad bit longer at work than you expected. When you got to the restaurant, you told the hostess Atsumu’s name, and she led you to your table.
At the table was the familiar blond. You sat down and tried to catch your breath. He tilted his head, “Why are you out of breath?”
“Because I know how much you hate waiting, and I am barely capable of dealing with you normally, much less a grumpy version of you.” you answered.
“That may have been true before, but next time don’t rush.” he opened the menu, “I can wait a couple minutes.”
You raised your brow and picked up the menu as well, “Looks like someone has changed a little bit.”
Without looking up from the menu, he chuckled, “I told you that you that I’ve changed since the last time we saw each other.”
When the waitress came to take your drink orders, Atsumu answered, “We’ll have one Asahi and one Sapporo.”
You looked at the waitress and smiled, “Actually, can you make that just two Asahis?”
She wrote down your orders and left. You looked at Atsumu with a smile, “You’re not the only one who has changed a little bit over the years.”
He looked at you and chuckled, “So, what have you been up to now?”
You were looking at the food options on the menu and replied, “Well, I’ve been promoted here and there through the years, and this commercial that I’m writing for is the first one they’re letting me put my hands on alone, finally. So, don’t mess this up for me.”
“I could say the same thing.” he chuckled, “Don’t make me look like a scrub.”
You rolled your eyes and sarcastically answered, “How could I possibly make one of the top pro athlete bachelors look like a scrub?”
Atsumu grinned, “True.”
“Right.” You rolled your eyes, “How about your team? How’s the good old Bokuto?”
Astumu showed an irritated expression, “He’s the same as always. Annoying.”
“Glad to see that he hasn’t changed at all!” you laughed.
“That makes literally only one person in the whole world.” Atsumu deadpanned.
“He’s not that bad!” you responded, “You guys just have two very different personalities, so of course things can get volatile. Though, it’s mostly from your end.”
“I resent that.” Atsumu sighed.
When the food came, you couldn’t help but feel the hunger in your stomach. It just dawned on you that you had to forgo lunch because of all of today’s deadlines. You started digging in as soon as the food was set down and Atsumu watched you with a smile, “Let me guess. You skipped out on lunch?”
With a full mouth, you answered, “Well, I had to finish all my work since someone wanted to get dinner last minute.”
Atsumu scoffed, “We both know that’s not true. You’ve always had the terrible habit of skipping meals in general.”
You stuck another piece of salmon sushi in your mouth, “What can I say? Eating comes second to my work.”
“Well, if you had better taste buds, you’d actually enjoy eating more.” Atsumu placed a piece of fatty tuna from his plate onto yours, “Salmon sushi is subpar.”
“Whatever~” you sang as you took another bite.
“As long as you’re eating. You and I both know that without food, you can’t have the fuel needed to perform well. ”
You picked up the sushi he gave you and smiled, “Your athlete is coming out, Atsumu.”
When you both finished eating, Atsumu offered to take you home, “Yoyogi, right?”
“Ah, not anymore.” you shook your head, “I moved to Shibuya.”
“Even better. That’s where I live, too.” he grinned.
On the train ride home, since it was past rush hour, you two were able to find seats. You looked outside of the window and watched the buildings quickly pass by you. At one of the stops, you noticed a mother carrying her baby went onto the train. You stood up and were about to give her the seat, but Atsumu pushed your shoulder down. He stood up himself and smiled at the mother signaling for her to take his seat. Atsumu ended up standing in front of you. He faced you, and you smiled at him. He mouthed, “What?”
You only smiled and shook your head in response.
When you reached your apartment complex, you said, “Even though, this was last minute, and I had to rush all my work, tonight was fun.”
“Of course, it was. You spent it with me.” he smirked.
“That being said, if you ever do this again on a work day, I am going to kill you.” you warned.
“Fine. Fine. Got it.” Atsumu put both his hands up, “Speaking of,” he took something out of his pocket, “Here.”
You looked at what his hands held, and it was a ticket for one of his games. You asked, “Really?”
“It’s for this weekend, and it’s in Tokyo. Since I’ve given you a couple days of warning, there’s no reason for you to not come.” he replied.
“I’ll see if I can make it.” you looked at him, “But seriously, no promises.”
“Whatever.” he chuckled.
He turned his back and started to walk away. You called out, “Have a good night, Atsumu.”
He didn’t turn around and just put a hand up to signal goodbye.
The next morning, you couldn’t stop thinking of the ticket. This time he wasn’t really forcing you to go, so there was no pressure this time. But why did you feel even more inclined to go?
You brought it up later with Ennoshita at lunch. He asked, “I mean, you two are friends, and from the dinner you two had, it doesn’t seem like it was awkward at all.”
“I just don’t know what he wants from me.” you replied.
“Has he hit on you at all?” he questioned.
You shook your head. “See.” he pointed out, “There’s nothing to worry about. Maybe he just wants to repair some burnt bridges. Besides, isn’t it better if things go normally for the commercial?”
“That’s… true.” you admitted.
“Why are you so resistant on mending your guys’ relationship? Did the breakup end badly?”
“Not at all really.” you answered, “The relationship itself was actually pretty easy. He was definitely a brat. He’s definitely still a brat, but we got along well and had fun.”
Your coworker raised a brow, “Then why did you two break up?”
You shrugged, “We just drifted apart. He got busy with travelling for his team, and I--” you hesitated, “I just wanted to focus on my career, too. I guess we just weren’t in sync anymore.”
“Well, it seems like neither of you have any desire to date again, so if you’re really asking for my opinion then I say go. But at the end of the day, if you really don’t want to go, then don’t.”
You pouted, “That doesn’t help at all.”
“I’m not going to force you to go if you don’t want to!” he laughed.
You groaned and put your head on the table.  Ennoshita then suggested, “Just go. If you feel like leaving then leave. At least you can say that way you went, and both parties are satisfied.”
“I’ll… think about it.” you replied.
Despite your words that same weekend, you found yourself in the city’s gymnasium. The smell of icy hot created giant waves of nostalgia. Before you got there, you reminded yourself that you could leave at any time you became uncomfortable. The issue was that you felt even more comfortable being there than you expected.
You looked around, and the crowds of people made it harder to get around. You checked the time, and you showed up a little early. You decided you might as well go around and get some food. While looking at the stalls, you saw a familiar face. You approached the man, “Osamu?”
Osamu looked up and gave you a shocked expression, “Hey. I haven’t seen you in awhile.”
You awkwardly laughed, “It has been a long time. I’m glad to see that your onigiri business is doing great still.”
“I’m glad to see it, too.” he replied, “Are you here for ‘Tsumu?”
“Uhh… kind of.” you chuckled.
“You guys dating again?” he asked.
“I-I see you still get to the point quickly.” you tried to laugh, “But, no. We aren’t dating.”
Osamu raised both his brows, “Interesting.”
Osamu passed you two onigiris, and you pulled out your wallet to pay. He held his hand out to stop you, “Don’t worry about it. Just take it as an apology for whatever Atsumu has done to inconvenience you.”
“Well,” you joked, “Two onigiris should do it for now, but we’ll see how much you owe me in a couple of days.”
You walked out to find a seat and tried to avoid the cheer area for Atsumu’s team in fear of running into anyone you knew. While looking over the crowd, you smiled. There were so many more people cheering for Atsumu’s team than before.
When the teams came out, you saw all of Atsumu’s teammates. Some were familiar, some new, but your surrounding incited a sense of excitement in you.
You could see Atsumu looking through the crowd. When he faced your direction, he stopped and smiled. It felt like he was  looking straight at you, but you knew it was impossible for him to find you in this sea of people.
While watching the game, it reminded you of how much you used to love coming to support him. He’d taught you all about the sport, and you were glad you still made sense of everything. What was also crazy to see was how much better he’d gotten… you didn’t even know that was possible. You thought of telling him about how much he’s improved, but you know that guy did not any more fuel to add to his ego.
At the end of the match, you could feel yourself getting a bit anxious. You had hoped slightly that he’d text you where you were, but that hope caused fear in you as well. Fear that you wouldn’t get that text and then be filled with disappointment.
You decided to just text him that it was a great game and to thank him for the ticket. Just when you pulled out your phone from your pocket, you felt it vibrate. You checked it, and on your screen was a notification for a text from Atsumu.
You could feel yourself feeling not only relieved… but happy. You tried shoving those feelings as far down as you could. There was no way you were going back there. You couldn’t.
You finally managed to read the text, and it read, “Come and meet me in the back.”
You smiled and typed, “How do you even know I went to your game?”
Within seconds, he responded, “You would never miss a chance to watch me play.”
You closed your screen and scoffed to yourself.
Despite your reaction, you decided to meet him. You were leaning against the wall waiting for him to come out, and you were surprised by someone putting a cap on your head. You looked up and saw Atsumu, who was also wearing a cap. You laughed, “What is this for?”
He put his hand over your head and said, “Just trust me on this.”
He started to lead you to the exit when a familiar voice behind you exclaimed, “Hey! ‘Tsumu is going off with another person!”
You took the cap off and glared at Atsumu, “‘Another person?’”
Atsumu looked up in exasperation, “Now? Of all times?”
“Oh!” the voice announced, “It’s you!”
You looked behind you and smiled, “Hi, Bokuto. Long time no see.”
Atsumu glared at Bokuto, “What do you mean by another person?”
“Well, earlier you went off with the sports doctor for your knee.” Bokuto explained.
You looked at Atsumu with slight panic, “What happened to your knee?”
“Don’t worry about it.” Atsumu put the hat back on your head, “It was a minor injury, and the doctor just wanted to make sure it was totally healed.”
He looked over Bokuto, “And you! Stop saying such misleading sentences!”
Atsumu grabbed your hand and headed towards the exit. Bokuto called out to you, “It was good seeing you!”
You grinned and waved, “You, too!”
Before Atsumu opened the door to leave the building, he looked at you, “I know you’re cute and all, but try not to draw any attention to yourself.”
You could feel your ears go red, “What are you talking about?!”
He smirked at you and led you outside. When you got outside, there were crowds of reporters and paparazzi but they were all waiting at another door. You looked at Atsumu in front of you, “Where are we going?!”
He laughed, “Just shut up and follow me!”
Atsumu led you to a parking structure, and he walked up to a car. He let go of your hand and opened the driver’s side door, “You coming?”
“Y-yeah.” you nodded.
You got inside the other side of the vehicle and buckled your seatbelt, “When did you get a car?”
Atsumu turned on the ignition, “Not too long ago.”
When he started to drive, you said, “You know, you only asked me to go to your game today. I didn’t realize that included plans after.”
Atsumu snorted, “I’m only driving you home, dummy.”
You scratched your head and looked out the window, “You can’t expect me to think that knowing you.”
“I just wanted to see you at least one more time today.” he commented.
“One more time?” you asked, “When was the other time you saw me?”
“I saw you in the crowd.” he laughed, “Didn’t you see me looking right at you?”
“Someone’s back to telling lies.” you sang.
“You were sitting on the back left side of the cheering area.” he refuted.
You pouted, “Lucky guess.”
Atsumu looked at your expression and chuckled.
Once you reached your apartment, you thanked him for the ride home and opened the car door. Before closing it, you laughed, “Life has gotten slightly more interesting since you came back, Atsumu.”
“I think that’s how most people feel about me.” he mused.
“Bye.” you chimed before closing the car door in his face.
The next following days were filled with more work, mostly about Atsumu’s sponsorship with things regarding budget, location, etc… When you finally managed to catch a break, you were resting at your desk. Ennoshita came up to you and placed yet another file on your desk, “So, how’d the game go?”
You opened the files that he placed on your desk, “It-It went.”
“Went?”
“I don’t know!” you cried, “I keep getting these weird mixed signals from him. At times, I think he’s flirting with me, but then it turns out he’s just being nice. Even then, him being nice is a rarity, so I don’t--”
“Relax!” Ennoshita laughed, “Breathe.”
“Right.” you looked around to see if anyone noticed your complaints, “It’s just there are these moments when I just find myself being swept off my feet, and then back into reality by his casualness about it all.”
“Well, you dated him before. You should be more or less familiar with his style.” Ennoshita pointed out.
“That’s the thing.” you sighed, “This Atsumu is someone who I’m not familiar with at all. Before, he was so straightforward with his feelings, so I never really doubted him. If you were to ask me now…”
“How do you want him to feel about you?” Ennoshita examined.
You put you head on your desk, “That seems like the answer we all want to know.”
You sat up and looked at Ennoshita, “Well, whatever. It doesn’t matter how I want him to feel. There’s no way he holds feelings for me anymore, so I’m not going to worry about it. He just wants to be friends.”
One of you coworkers came up to you, “Hey, boss wants to see you in his office.”
You looked at Ennoshita and mumbled, “Not a word to anyone about this!”
Ennoshita saluted at you, “You got it.”
You walked alongside your other coworker and asked, “Did he say what it would be about at all?”
“No clue.” They shook their head, “Good luck, though.”
You got up from your chair and headed to his office. When you knocked, he answered, “Come in.”
You tried to smile, “You asked me to stop by?”
“I just wanted to see if you’ve made any updates on the script yet.”
“Just a little bit here or there.” you lied.
“Great.” he nodded, “Can you finish it by this weekend and have it on my desk by Monday?”
“Monday?” you fearfully repeated.
He raised a brow, “Is there a problem with that?”
You instinctively shook your head, “Nope, Monday sounds great.”
When you left your office, you sighed. You’d normally set up time to edit at your desk, but in each session, you couldn’t manage even one change. How in the world were you going to edit this script?
That weekend you shut yourself in your apartment and didn’t let yourself leave your desk until you managed to finish the script. That being said, grabbing some inspiration from playing on your phone wasn’t forbidden. You were in the middle of checking twitter when you got a text. You were smiling after seeing who it was from.
Rather than texting back, you called them. You heard his voice through the speaker, “Hello.”
You smiled, “Atsumu, what did I say about asking me to hang out last minute?”
“Hmm…” he pretended to think, “I really can’t remember what you’re talking about, though?”
“Regardless of whether you remember or not,” you sighed, “I am not free for dinner tonight. I have to finish the script for your commercial by Monday.”
“That’s too bad.” he quickly responded, “Maybe next time.”
You were shocked by his quick concession, “Yeah. Uh, maybe next time.”
He hung up the phone, and you stared at the screen. You were caught off guard by how quickly he accepted your no. It wasn’t that you were used to people not insisting, but you just weren’t used to Atsumu giving in that quickly.
You put your phone down and stared at your computer screen once again. If you were going to feel any relief this weekend, this script had to be done… that’s what you said, but here you were sitting at your computer… still with no edits.
Your lack of any sense of creativity was interrupted by a knock at your door. You figured it was your neighbor probably passing you your mail that might have ended up in their box again. You opened it, and to your extreme surprise, you said, “Atsumu?”
He looked you up and down and smirked, “You look… comfortable.”
You looked down at your pajamas and fuzzy slippers, you muttered, “What are you doing here?”
Atsumu lifted up his arms that carried a bag of food, “I figured if you were crammed up in your apartment, you definitely weren’t eating.”
He walked past you and into your apartment, “So, shall we take a break and eat?”
You closed your front door and sighed, “Not like I was getting anything done anyways.”
He placed the food on your dining table and pointed at your laptop, “This where you’re editing the script?”
You grabbed the to-go boxes of food, “Yup.”
He pulled the laptop, so he could see the screen. He looked up at you with a disgusted expression, “Slurps Up?”
“It’s the sponsor’s catchphrase. You of all people should know that.” you snorted.
“I’m getting paid to promote the product, not actually consume it.” he replied.
“Well, that’s the one thing I can’t change out of the script, even though, I wish I could.” you joked, “Other than that, I have no idea what to make different.”
Atsumu read through the script again and suggested, “What if I read through everything, and whatever sounds off, you can change.”
“I mean it can’t hurt.” you nodded.
Atsumu started reading through the script, and you were taking notes on different things like his tone and the words he was emphasizing. When he finished, you asked him to read it one more time. Atsumu shook his head, “Finish eating first, and then I’ll go through it one more time.”
“Come on.” you begged, “It’ll only take like three minutes.”
Atsumu closed your laptop and glared at you, “Eat.”
“Fine.” you pouted in response.
You tried eating all the food that Atsumu brought you, so you could you start working again. Now that you knew what you wanted to do, you felt the need to get it done as soon as possible in fear that it would all disappear from your brain. Once you finished, you opened your laptop and pushed it in front of him, “Read through it one more time.”
“I’m not even done eating yet!” Atsumu blurted.
“Just three minutes of your time, and I’ll let you eat in peace!” you insisted.
“Fine.” he wiped his mouth and started reading.
Once he went through it, you grabbed your laptop from him, “Perfect!”
You quickly typed and changed the wording in random spots. When you passed him the laptop to read through it one more time, he deadpanned, “Let me finish eating this time.”
“Right.” you giggled.
You continued to read through the script making sure things flowed well, and when he finally finished eating, he took the laptop from you. He started reading it.
When he finished, you asked, “So, what do you think of it now?”
“I think it flows a lot better, and strangely enough you used words I actually use normally. Hopefully, the filming for this will go easier than normal.” he replied.
“Wow, is that a compliment from The Miya Atsumu?” you laughed.
He patted your head, “Don’t get too carried away.”
You stood up from the table and ran to your kitchen. You pull out a couple of cans, “This calls for a celebration!”
You tossed a can of beer and sat on the couch, “Seriously! I feel really good about this script. I hope my boss accepts it.”
Atsumu moved to the couch to sit next to you, “Well, if you’re that confident, I hope he takes it too.”
You crossed your legs and face him. You held out your beer to cheers with him, and he clinked his can to yours with a side smile.
You took a couple of gulps from your can and released a breath, “There’s seriously nothing better than a cold can of beer.”
Atsumu took a sip of his and set it down on the coffee table, “I’ll agree with you on that.”
You were still facing him and asked, “So, I know we talked about what I did in the past couple of years. How about you, Atsumu?”
“I’ve just been traveling and touring a lot for volleyball games.” he answered, “Same old, same old.”
“You act like being adored by fans and getting paid thousands for sponsors is normal.” you snorted.
“It’s not why I play.” he responded.
“It’s been a while, but trust me when I say I know that much about you.” You took a sip of your beer, “Your nearly insatiable hunger for getting better and winning is the reason.”
Atsumu held his can out for you to cheers it, “That’s correct.”
You hit his can once again and laughed, “Did you know that when you drink, you have a tendency to cheers quite often?”
Atsumu turned red, and you cackled, “I’m guessing you didn’t know!”
You stood up from the couch and asked, “I’m gonna get another one. Do you want one?”
Atsumu’s eyes went wide, “You already finished one?”
“It’s been stressful these past couple of days!” you defended, “Today is probably one of the only days for awhile that I can enjoy drinking, so I’m gonna enjoy every minute of it.”
He grabbed the TV remote with his other hand, “I’ll get one when I’m done with this.”
“Suit yourself.” you walked towards the kitchen.
You sat down on the couch again with your drink and watched Atsumu flip through the channels and asked, “Out of curiosity, have you dated anyone since we broke up?”
Atsumu nearly choked on his drink, “W-What are you talking about?”
“Well, have you?” you asked, “I mean, you can’t be dating anyone right now considering you’re at my place on a Saturday night.”
“Says the person crammed at home by herself on a Saturday night.”
“Hey! I had work to do.”
“Oh?” Atsumu raised a brow, “Are you living a fruitful dating life then?”
You looked back at the TV and leaned your back against the couch, “It’s been a busy time with work.”
Atsumu laughed, “I see.” he started flipping through the channels again, “But not really. I’ve been busy with work too.”
You could feel your stomach starting to knot. There you were again starting to feel hopeful. You wanted to shove those feelings far down. To distract you, you ended up chugging the rest of your can. Atsumu looked at you, “You good over there?”
“Great!” you grinned.
You walked over to the fridge once again, and Atsumu finally stood up and said, “Wait, just a second. Should you really be getting another one?”
“Why?” you snorted, “You worried about me?”
“I mean, yeah.” Atsumu started, “Beer has a lot of calories, and you aren’t as young anymore--”
You slapped him in the stomach, and he flinched. “I am not fat!” you opened the fridge, “I bet that I can finish this beer faster than you.”
When he managed to catch his breath, he said, “You and I both know that’s not true.”
You placed a can in his hand, “Talk is cheap.”
You walked over to the couch and heard the sound of a can being opened. You smiled at yourself for knowing that Atsumu could never step down from a challenge.
After several more drinks and bottles, you felt yourself slump on the couch. Atsumu was leaning back too, his stomach sticking out completely due to all the liquids. He groaned, “Why do you have so much alcohol just for one person?”
“In the workplace, ice wine and champagne is the normal gift to give for birthdays or other celebrations. So, I have several bottles stocked up over the years.” you laughed,.
“And no one to drink with?” Atsumu teased.
“Nope.” you openly admitted.
After that, only the noise of the TV filled the room. Atsumu was first to speak, “Hey, I’ve always wondered. Why did we break up?”
You looked over at him, “Really? You’re going to ask that now?”
“Well, it’s either now or never.” he chuckled.
If either of you were sober, this conversation never would have come up, and you most definitely wouldn’t have answered his question. But you were very far from sober. “You were travelling all over the country, and I was just starting out on my career. You got all these great new opportunities, and yet you were stuck with your significant other who was getting nowhere with their life. You were growing, and I just felt like a thorn at your side.”
“You were never a thorn at my side.” he retorted.
You could sense the tension in his voice, and you tried to calm down the situation, “Well, regardless, we are friends now, and I know that’s what you want. Sometimes, I’m pretty sure I get carried away though because of how easy it is for us to be together. I think I’ve been holding myself from falling in love with you all over again.”
Atsumu asked, “Why hold yourself back?”
You looked at Atsumu expecting to have a smile on his face, but he was completely serious. You couldn’t find the words to reply. He continued, “You were never a hindrance. Why didn’t you just tell me how you felt?”
“I don’t know.” you could feel yourself choking up, “I just couldn’t.”
“I suppose you mean to tell me that you broke up with me for my sake.” he fumed.
You couldn’t look him in the eyes because that was always your excuse: you ended the relationship for him. But you knew that was never the truth. You were terrified that his motivation would one day want something that no longer included you. So, you cut him off before he could ever get the chance.
Atsumu stood up from the couch, “I never wanted you to leave me. You’ve been one of the few people who I genuinely enjoy spending my time with. You loved me for me, and you’ve never asked me to change, despite my horrible personality. Even now.” he turned to face you, “You admitted yourself that being together just feels rights. Now that you’re where you want to be in your career, could you even just consider us again? If I were to ask you to give me another chance, would you?”
You saw the earnestness in Atsumu’s eyes. When you hesitated, the pain that then filled his eyes caused your heart to break. He turned around and headed to the door. When he touched the doorknob, Atsumu faced you one more time, “I know how hard it can be to deal with me, and that’s what I always thought it was. This whole time, I really thought it was me who made you unhappy. But you know, I can tell and show you that I love you as much as I can, and it still won’t be enough. Because your source of unhappiness isn’t me, it’s you.”
When he finally opened the door, you tried to call out to him, but he slammed it behind him without hesitation. You were left alone with only the small sound of the television.
The following Monday, you submitted the new script to your boss. You sat in the breakroom alone, staring at your black coffee. You were surprised by Ennoshita’s voice, “Hey! Did you actually manage to make some edits that make a difference?”
You stirred your coffee, “I guess so.”
Ennoshita sat on the chair across from yours and tried to get a look at your face, “Everything alright?”
You feigned a smile at your friend, “Yeah, just had a long weekend full of work.”
Ennoshita leaned back in his chair, “I don’t know about that. I’ve seen you after a real weekend of work, and you don’t look this miserable.”
“Gee, thanks.” you mused
“You know what I mean.” Ennoshita rolled his eyes, “What happened?”
“Atsumu and I got into a fight this weekend.” you revealed.
“A fight? About what?”
“Why we broke up.”
Ennoshita tilted his head, “Isn’t that conversation literally years overdue?”
“But it’s a conversation we never had.” you sighed, “He told me he still loved me, and asked to try us out one more time basically, but...”
Ennoshita scanned your face and figured how you must have answered Atsumu, “Do you think you made the right decision?”
You rested your chin on your arms on the table, “Not at all.”
“Then, what are you planning on doing?”
“I don’t know. Maybe fall into a hole for the next year of my life.” you groaned.
“Who knows? If the boss hates your new script, you may actually get the chance to do that.” Ennoshita replied.
You looked up and glared at him, but he smiled at you, “Look. We all know that your new script is going to get a pass from the boss. What you should worry about next is how you’re going to deal with Atsumu when he films it.”
“Do I have to go to that?” you whined, “I mean I did my part. I wrote the thing.”
Ennoshita stood up, “Wow, you just officially became a writer, and you’re already turning into a diva.”
You looked at him, and he gave you another smile, “Just feel better.”
You smiled back at him, “Thanks, Ennoshita.”
“Anytime~” He sang, “That reminds me, I actually came here to tell you that the boss approved of your script, and production starts in two weeks.”
You stood up from your seat, “Ennoshita, couldn’t you have opened with that?!”
“I don’t even know why you’ve been so scared to get kicked off the project. You’re one of the top writers at this company.” He turned around and shrugged, “Besides if I brought up the news later, then I wouldn’t have learned what happened over this weekend!”
You instantly grabbed your phone and were about to send a message to Atsumu, but you quickly stopped yourself. You looked out the window and sighed. He was probably the only person in the world who you wanted to share your news with.
The next two weeks were extreme times of work. You were alongside the production company making sure everything was going to plan. It wasn’t necessarily in your job description, but you just had to get something to distract you. If you didn’t, you might have gone crazy from anxiety waiting for the day you were forced to see Atsumu again.
When the day of filming finally was nearing, you nearly begged Ennoshita to join you the day of set. “Please, Ennoshita, I do not want to face him alone. Besides, you’ve always wanted to get to know more about the production side of things, right? Today’s the day!”
Ennoshita cringed, “Fine. Fine. Just stop acting like you’re doing me a favor.”
You grinned, “Thank you!”
“Please, don’t mention it.” he deadpanned.
The daty had finally arrived, and you were there bright and early on set. You were sitting next to the director, and you two were going over the checklist. You checked the time on your phone, and if things were going according to schedule, Atsumu should be in makeup.
You called Ennoshita over who was eating the set food. He jogged over to you, and you asked, “Astumu is getting his makeup done, right?”
“Yup!” he grinned, “Just checked.”
You checked your watch, “Great. Then he’ll be out there in 15 minutes, and I can leave.”
The director interrupted, “I was told you were staying today in order to help us if we have questions about the script.”
You could feel your stomach drop, and for once you were upset that you couldn’t push this onto a co-writer. You smiled at the director, “I’ll stay then.”
You immediately looked over at Ennoshita with slight panic in your eyes, and he pat you on the back, “Everything’s going to be fine.”
“Right.” you breathed, “Things will be great.”
In a couple of minutes, Atsumu finally came out, and you tried to hide yourself. The director told him to move to the set, and Atsumu immediately locked eyes with you when he did. You expected him to at least acknowledge you, but there was nothing. You knew you didn’t deserve it.
Filming for the most part was going smoothly. When the director called for a break, the director went over the next part of the script with you. Ennoshita asked you, “You want anything from the set food?”
You smiled and shook your head, “That’s alright. I’m not hungry.”
Ennoshita looked at the set in front of him, “Despite you having bad reasons for bringing me here, I’m actually glad you did.”
“And why is that?” you rolled your eyes.
“You were right when you said I have been wanting to get into the production side of things, but it’s great watching you work too.”
“I feel like I have no idea what I’m doing since I can’t ask a co-writer for their opinions.” you scoffed.
“I don’t think you need a co-writer at all. It’s kind of clear to everyone here. If the director thought you weren’t capable, he would not have wanted you on set. You’d just get in the way.” he tapped your shoulder, “Have a little more faith in yourself.”
You looked in Atsumu’s direction and scratched the back of your head, “That seems to always be my issue.”
When the director called for things to start up again, you watched everything roll out once again. However there was a part in one scene that another person just wasn’t getting right. When the director called cut, you asked, “If it’s alright with you, can we roll that again? But have the other person talk just a little louder.”
“Yeah, that’s fine with me.” the director nodded.
When the day finally ended, Ennoshita came up to you with a plate of fatty tuna sushi. You took it and laughed, “They had fatty tuna on the set table? That’s fancy.”
“No, actually. Atsumu passed it to me to give to you.” Ennoshita replied, “Even though things are rough between you two, I think you should go talk to him. The whole time today he was looking at you, and when you told the director to redo a scene, he smiled at you. I kind of pity the guy.”
You chuckled, “I don’t know if you’ll be pitying him after seeing the fat paycheck he’s getting from this.”
“At least my relationship isn’t in the rocks.” Ennoshita joked.
“Ennoshita!” you exclaimed, “That relationship involves me!”
“Just talk to him when you get the chance. I think he’ll be willing to listen to you.” he laughed, “Anyways, enjoy your sushi, and have a good night.”
“Night.” you smiled at your friend.
The same evening, you were at your dining table staring at your phone. You had been trying to gain the courage to text Atsumu for the past hour, but you were horrified. What if he didn’t reply and no longer wanted anything to do with you?
You sighed. Frankly, it’s what you deserved. He already gave you a second chance. Did you really deserve a third?
What you did know was that you owed it to yourself to finally try to speak your mind. You hesitantly grabbed your phone from off the table and dialed his number. It rang three times until it stopped, and the call was picked up but no one said anything. You called out, “Atsumu?”
“Nope. You got Osamu.” he answered the phone, “Though, you may want to come over to Atsumu’s soon.”
“What’s wrong? What happened?” you panicked, “Is everything okay?”
Osamu scoffed, “He’s fine. He’s just--”
He stopped, but you could hear in the background Atsumu telling him to shut up. You tried to redirect the conversation, “Is it alright if I speak to Atsumu?”
Osamu continued, “I think you should just stop by. I’ll text you his address.”
“I-- Alright.” you nodded.
You hung up the phone, and soon after got an address. You grabbed your things and headed to his place. It was a quick ten minute walk since he really did live in the same district as you. When you got there, you knocked on the door, and Osamu was the one to open the door. “Is he alright?” you said out of breath.
“Why are you out of breath? Did you run here?” he asked.
“Kind of.” you answered.
“‘Tsumu, see!” Osamu looked behind him, “There’s nothing to worry about. They ran all the way over here.”
“Just go!” Astumu yelled from behind.
Osamu let himself out of the apartment, and you let yourself in, “Atsumu, are you here? Why are all the lights off?”
“Don’t look at me!” he yelled.
“What are you talking about?” you felt the walls for a light switch.
When you finally felt one on the wall, you pressed it. Finally, the apartment’s lights went on, and you could see. You saw what was way too familiar a scene. Atsumu was sat on the couch nearly lifeless. You chuckled, “Why are you so sad?”
He mumbled, “I told ‘Samu not to pick up the phone, and what does he do? He picks up the phone.”
You sat on the couch and said, “Whatever it is, it can’t be that serious.”
“This is totally embarrassing!” he groveled.
“What are you talking about?” you exclaimed.
“I’m talking about at the shoot today. I tried to be cool, and I kept messing up my lines. Why did we have to do the ‘Slurps up!’” line so many times?!” he exclaimed.
You laughed, “That’s what has you all depressed? Really?”
He glared at you, “I didn’t want to look stupid in front of you, and I did just that! I bit my tongue when I first opened my mouth! After everything, I was too embarrassed to even give you the food I prepared for you. I ended up giving it to one of your coworkers!”
You were listening Atsumu vent about his issues, and you could feel yourself calming down. You took a deep breath and started talking about the things you wanted to, “Atsumu, I came over to… tell you that I’m sorry.”
He opened his mouth, and you shook your head. You continued, “I love you, and I never stopped. You make things so much more fun, and you always managed to keep me on my toes. Like today, for example. I could feel my heartbeat raise just from looking at you, and I was expecting you to be mad at me--”
He interrupted you, “I am still mad at you. I only got you food because I knew you wouldn’t have eaten otherwise.”
“Right.” You smiled at him, “You also frustrate me to no end, but the way you make me feel is incomparable to anyone else.”
“I’m not as courageous as you.” Tears were starting to fill your eyes, “I’m a coward, and that’s why I ended things before. But I don’t want to be anymore. So, if you’ll take me as the coward I am now, I promise that in due time, you can proudly call me your partner.”
Atsumu wrapped both his arms around you and tucked his head into your shoulder. He whispered, “Coward or not, I’ll always be proud to call you mine.”
You wrapped your arms around him, “I love you, Atsumu.”
He pulled away slightly from your embrace and kissed you softly on the lips, “I love you, too.”
~~~~LATER~~~~
“Atsumu, hurry up!!” you called out from the couch, “The commercial is going to show soon!”
He ran over to his couch and sat next to you. You leaned your head onto his chest, and he asked, “Have you really not watched the commercial yet?”
“No because I wanted to see it with you for the first time.” you smiled, “That, and you would have begged me to show you before we released it officially.”
“I wouldn’t ask you--”
You covered his mouth and shushed him, “Be quiet! It’s starting!”
You watched the whole thirty seconds of it, and for the final scene, Atsumu gave the camera a big grin and exclaimed, “Slurps up!” followed by an overexaggerated wink.
You looked up at your boyfriend, and his face was completely red. You couldn’t help but burst out in laughter. The horror in Atsumu’s face was pure comedy. You could tell he was going to get in one of his moods again, and to prevent that from happening, you said, “There. There. That final scene was great. Everyone knows how cheesy catchphrases are.”
He looked at you with wide eyes, “Do you really think so?”
“Of course.” you pecked him on the lips.
Then you stood up from the couch and winked, “Slurps up.” before jetting away.
Atsumu stood up from the couch and chased after you with a grin, “We’ll see how much longer you’ll be laughing when I catch you!”
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ladyreclaimer · 4 years ago
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Halo Kiss Prompt No.9 Preview
I’ll be honest, I don’t usually write a whole lot of kisses in my stories, because I’m not extremely experienced in them.(I’ve lived a sheltered life, LOL) So I’ve been sitting on this prompt for days now, tweaking it to work on it. Perhaps posting a preview of it would help me get my courage up...
So here is for No.9 for the Halo Kiss Prompt requested by @ladywolvesbayne for Jortana. 
John-117 knew that politics could be a lot like war, and a negotiation between a formerly insurrectionist outer colony and the UEG was always just one step away from actual war. John had been expressly bred to fight against insurrectionists, but when the Covenant menace arrived, he had thankfully done little more than a handful of operations against his fellow humans. He felt no guilt for his part in the conflict, but he could not help but feel a responsibility now to strengthen the bonds between isolationist outer colonies and authoritarian inner worlds. He had transitioned to become the biggest ambassador and negotiator for the two sides. His legendary status now solidified him as humanity’s biggest hero; and former UNSC soldier or not, even the outer colonies trusted his word implicitly.
Usually it was simple negotiations, John acted in an advisory capacity, and his ability to discern the intentions and egos at play really began to shine outside of combat. What was before used only for predicting the movements of enemies, could now subtly predict the wants and caprices of negotiating parties. On rare occasions had he had to physically get involved in combat, once when a terrorist cell tried to disrupt a meeting, and the next when their negotiating vessel got into air combat with a pirate fleet. That was a short mistake on their part, as he quickly assumed command over the vessel and tactically outmaneuvered the fleet with ease. But usually it was this, long conference tables and even longer waits, as the ex-Spartan’s blue eyes would carefully scan the people as they discussed, everyone straightening up beneath his piercing gaze.
Today’s meeting was intensely difficult for him to focus, as a woman with the gravitational force of a supernova sat across from him, Cortana. Her presence was nothing new. Ever since she had been restored to life, albeit in a human body, by another of Doctor Halsey’s wild schemes, she had retired with John. The first few months were torture, watching her tear herself apart with self-loathing for her part in what the fragments of her mind had become. John was there for her, helping her to channel that grief and guilt into something productive. He suggested that she join him in the diplomatic corps, which she tentatively did because he did not press the issue, only stood by and waited. Her hacking and intelligence gathering skills were still of use, as evidenced by the long, elegant hands that masterfully worked the data pad she held just below the table’s edge.
By using something like the composer, or its antithesis as Dr. Halsey would have been sure to correct John, she was saved. Brought into the organic realm, the Forerunners’ wildest dreams embodied in a carelessly beautiful woman who scowled and raised her eyebrows at the illogical arguments of the parties around the table. Cortana seemed to sense John’s eyes on her, like they always did, and flicked her eyebrows up in amusement. Like the old days when she had been in his visor her face was a familiar landscape to John, and even the slightest expression on it was a well-known place. It was why they sat as they did, always across and never beside him, unlike most negotiators and their intelligence officers. Even without words John knew exactly what she meant as she rested one hand under her chin and tilted her head. “This negotiation is dragging on too long, they’re stalling for more time while they try to strengthen their positions”
John agreed. He also couldn’t help noticing that her brown hair had begun to lengthen, it was now past her shoulder, and slipped over her collar bone to fall behind her back when she put her hand like that. John tightened his jaw in annoyance and refocused on the conversation. He needed to focus. He was most effective when he rarely spoke, putting in a word or two to lay down the law and put the egos in the room back in place, or stirring up a feeling of responsibility to a peaceful resolution. So John watched and waited for the right moment to speak up to arrive. He was however a man who worked best on solving problems, moving from point a to point b to reach a satisfying conclusion, so the back of his mind still gnawed on the Cortana problem, there was no clear conclusion…maybe because John couldn’t identify the problem.
John was not an idiot, he knew what was happening… technically. John did not doubt that there was an undeniable bond between them. It did not even need mentioned or questioned since their dramatic reunion. It had remained a consistent reliable warmth and familiarity over the past two months, the only bit of sanity as his world utterly changed. They traveled together, worked together, even once or twice had slept in the same bunk when Cortana’s nightmares were too much without a second thought. But lately, there was an unaddressed friction in the air, teetering between irritation and excitement when they dealt with each other, and it troubled John. What irritated John was that all he knew for sure was that it was felt on his side, and if he could not figure out how to solve his own internal tumult it might threaten the status quo between them. Which John didn’t want. He liked the status quo between them, he was satisfied with it…was satisfied with it until recently.
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Plan(ed) to Have Something Ready, By The Ball Drop &/or Tomorrow!!! If Everything Works out...
Hey Everyone, 
HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE!!!
Wow, this is the second message without any art added or anything... LOL... Seems odd really to do this without having something up by now... By the way, yes the current avatar pic is related to the comic as you’ll come see soon. It’s and early sketch so some kinks aren’t worked out in the current image. But it was the one I was ready to have when I made this blog so there was at least something...
So as you probably can see by this title, I do plan on having something posted... I just don’t know to what extent. Due to some family drama, and continually piling on work I wasn’t able to get my Christmas Pic out to you guys, which was just a static scene with a few of the characters to get us started here. But... well family got in the way, continually decorating till Christmas day... a lot of things going on, bickering (though we all love each other) it’s just... you know life. I fully expected this as well, which is why I promised something before New Years, but didn’t specify as to what.
I postponed that idea to be released today or tomorrow, after seeing how I was completely unable to get to the work by Christmas Eve. But, by the looks of the progress I made on it and my families continually need of me till we get some things done in this house (that always has something to be done in it... LOL, at least things are coming fairly together).  So lets just say, I may not have anything out by tomorrow. But with hopes I want to have something out. So We’ll see. I could release early the character sketches. But I want to keep this blog clean as possible, so I feel releasing the character profiles, cards and blogs together prior to the Prologue, would fit better and keep this page having a cleaner look to it at the start.
 Maybe even by midnight tomorrow PST I could have something... But that again depends. I need to clean stuff for the internet/cable guy and I’m seriously allergic to dust... So the next few days I may be in an almost sickly comatose state regardless of the precautions I take. If dust gets kicked into the air at all and isn’t properly vacuumed up, than I’m often sick for days... I feel like all I’ve been doing the whole month is cleaning or working story wise on this comic... Mostly cleaning if you ask me, but at least after Saturday things should be more relaxed and I can have a better work schedule planned out. So yeah, that’s my life...
But DIDNT’ WAN TO LEAVE YOU HANGING with this Negative Nancy Talk ;D ;P ;D lol....
I want to tell you what I have so far:
I have the Christmas Image at least with the basic building blocks to complete it. Like I’ve drawn where I want things, but not detailed anything... So that’s why it may be a day or so... Technically its a Happy Holidays and New Years piece, but with the Christmas Tree in it I have the habit of calling it such...
I may have plans to detail it a bit more then I plan on having the comic, but that also depends on things. I may just leave it in the same style and not fully decked out to make it easier to finish...
~Several Characters for the beginning have their final forms created. These are major characters that will be scene in the prologue. I’m just having to figure out out little things with background characters in some instances.
~The prologue is almost completely written out. I had a change of heart a week ago on some things and had to change it around, which is why the written format for the prologue isn’t complete as it initially was. I just felt some things didn’t fit, so I added and took away some things so it flows better and also works both fanfiction wise for the story, but easily mixes for the Ask AU... I also have at least the beginning portion of the Intro script written, the parts unaffected by the changes. However, parts of the intro will be written out, depending on the questions you ask the characters in this prologue so these portions I’m leaving open on purpose. It’s the plot driven portions I’m mentioning that I’ve changed slightly. ;) I have fun plans for the prologue. Remember this story has a clear direction I’m taking it with plot. But the Ask portion will be a part of it, I have such a fun way of Ask’s being tied into the plot driven story, and it will change depending on the context, person and setting which makes this really fun to plan out. 
                   -With that said, here’s an early heads up, that for Ask Questions, I will allow any sort of asks, but if it has potential to spoil a part of the story, then I won’t answer it. Alongside this, I’ll allow Anon magic to a small degree. I won’t include Asks that like spoil something for a character, or tell the character where someone is, give away what someone else is doing to another character, etc... Unless it may fit the context, but generally I won’t use these types of asks. I will allow Anons to appear occasionally rather then just be unseen voices, as I have fun ways of incorporating Anons into the story that also works with different points in the plot. I will accept things like... say a dog or cat to appear for ex. amount of asks. I already know who they’ll be and have been planning out their designs, but I may draw the line at other animals (e.g. horses, fish, racoons, squirrels, lizards, etc.) Although, I do really love rabbits, I chose to make it concise to just two animals that if asked could appear. It’s not because I can’t draw them but I don’t want things getting out of hand. Types of anon magic I’m not going to use if put in the Ask portion, are things like giving people certain powers or items that may completely effect the tone or plot of the story, accept maybe if I did a non-canon AU to this au for fun one day. I will go more in depth in the general rules later. In no way is this to discourage anyone from asking such things. I may set reminders at times if I get to much of something. But, in general I’ll do what I can to make this a fun Ask blog all the same.
~The Larger Summary, I promised like a trailer would be in the comic form I have rendered the Script for, and have two slides so far drawn out, just not completed. (for the time I didn’t have around the Holidays compared to normally I actually surprised myself with this)
~The story itself is really coming together, I already have a starting and stopping point (which I had prior to this blog) as it will have several Acts and Arcs, some which have greatly changed and take on new depth since the point I started this blog. The themes and story in general are drawn out pretty well.  I don’t have all the chapters I’d want fully written. As I have my plan, but I also want to get the prologue in first, just to see if there’s anything I should change with my concept. It’s just a precaution, something I’ve learned well when taking on something new. So I don’t have things that are written in stone and hard to change if the form I’m hoping to take doesn’t work out and needs to be retooled or something. But these are minor and shouldn’t change the overall scope and plot I’m taking this story on either.
~I’ve created several of the character bios, many in fact are already written in true Henry Stickmin fashion. But as I took inspiration to make this into a AU as well, I will possibly make both the bio cards and show a static shot of the characters alongside it or something... It’s an idea, but I want this to also be the easier comic. But, considering that I’ll always have a static shot I use as reference for any character I make, this is what makes this more realistic to occur as well. ~I’ve nearly drawn out all the characters for the intro portion. And already know how I’ll handle Anon’s in the story. In the Prologue itself, I’ll actually have you Anon’s being referenced as audience members in a conference of sorts. Think of it like those conferences when a new Apple or Microsoft product is first advertised as something new to the news conference, those big rotunda’s where someone's being interviewed and presenting the hot new item. Think of the opening to the prologue being something like this scenario. So the questions directed at the character in there, who... *cough* I will introduce later after I fully render both their character profile and have their character bio(s) fully done. Which considering how fun and easy it’s been to do this so far shouldn’t be to long now... Although to keep from getting questions to soon on them, I may hold off on posting the Characters and Bio’s till I have that Intro/Trailer completed... I’m still considering which to do first actually. But top on my list out of all of these is having my cover art for the top completed. That’s something I admit though I have the layout I have hardly started on and should focus on first.
~I’m also taking close looks at how to properly make the rules for this group. When I posts either the Character Bios, Holiday Pic, OR the Trailer Comic... Maye even just the cover art... Then I will try to have out an official Rules list. The one I have on the group posts is just general stuff... But I’m reconsidering some rules I already wrote... Basically keep things family friendly, be kind an courteous, nothing vulgar or disturbing. 
I may change this from a PG-13 comic to maybe PG-15. I’ve realized recently, there are some points that some characters do swear... sometimes more then once. I’m not someone who talks with vulgarity myself, but I sure can write characters with it.... Let’s just say I’m going to see if in those scenes I might just bleep out words and see if the dialogue still comes through. But, I dunno... LUCKILY, we don’t have to worry about many of those scenes till way further into this comic. So lucky for either of us, this isn’t a major concern at the moment. And on the plus side it’s not the crudest words I could have chosen so... it may still work as a PG-13 work... I’ll make this decision soon as possible. 
Another reason for the sudden change, came as I realized as the story goes, and even in early chapters there will be scenes where blood is shown and physical mortal danger and peril is experienced by the characters. I do have heavy theming sometimes, later on it may seem constantly about. As this story is heavily Drama/Mystery and some suspense based. As the story progresses it will become less Drama/Mystery and more based around the drama/suspense itself. This will obviously be some more intense scenes that showing less blood would allow me to make PG-13, however I also don’t want to undercut the certain tones using representations of a mortal wound would bring. I also want to look at things like these future scenes realistically. Which is why I’m mostly considering changing this story to a PG-15 or at least more certain I am. I just don’t want people shocked that I’m doing this. I don’t feel this story will be R, there was a time where I heavily considered it. But for once I decided no, I didn’t want that. I just didn’t want to open the door for scenes I didn’t intend to have in this story. There will be heavy themes that my have TW for some people. But I didn’t want some TW’s  that having a R rated story could potentially have. I mean certain themes people are free to write fanfictions for, and depending on the content can make art for. But again this will be family friendly group... As You can see I’m considering more then a little here when it comes to the official rules. These details will be followed up on the official rules post.
~~~~~~
Now I apologize for the length.
The structure of this and the previous Authors Notes will probably fall under their own category for length. I’ll work to make sure posts in the future won’t be so long and hard to read. It is early morning for me when I woke to write this, and I found once much of the day passed that I still wanted to include the stuff I did into this update.
I have more to tell you, but I think this post has spurned the energy in me out. Anything that I missed in this post, I’ll try to remember to update in the next post (hopefully after I get some art on here). What I can’t do at the moment is promise dates right now till I’m more certain of schedule to work on this or can promise that my general allergies won’t cause me to delay this at all. But I can confirm that I should have several things coming out this next month, including the comic Prologue I hope. Depending on the traction the comic and fanfic gets, I may try to work on it quickly, or take my time with it. I may do a mix of both as my perfectionist self won’t let me just shoot something out without giving it my all first. I’m shushing that side slightly so this comic will be easier on me then the more detailed one I have planned. All the same, I’m planning to work on this one more at the moment till I can get an idea of my work flow. Sometimes the easiest route of work is better for planning, rather then diving head first into the deep end right away. You don’t learn to swim by jumping head first into the ocean. Piece of advice that it took years for me to learn myself ;). Anyways, I figured since I did promise something hopefully by today or tomorrow, I’d give you a formal update... Also... Well I can’t promise that updates won’t be like this in the future. I’ll try to keep them concise. But as people who know me, well have learned when it comes to personally talking I tend to write or talk out epistle. So... When I give updates, I may have lengthy ones... I’ll try my best to keep this side of me out of updates, if I can help it. Anyways Happy New Years Everyone!!! I hope everyone's Christmas and Holidays were extra special, despite the state of the world!!! 
HAPPY NEW YEARS EVE AND DAY!!! Sincerely, <3 (Mod) Sweet Heart Blaze
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ill-skillsgard · 5 years ago
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Texts From Henry 2 - Henry Deaver x Mistress
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Warning: 18+ smut/sexting/forced masturbation/teasing/mentions of cheating/mature themes.  Please read at your own discretion.
Note: Hello, loves. I’ll just leave this here. Let me know your thoughts and all that jazz. I don’t have much to say except enjoy! Comments, reblogs and likes are appreciated! Many kisses.
Read more Henry x Mistress imagines here > Masterpost
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Henry was breaking the rules all day long. Rules he set out when you first started working for him. From the moment he strutted into the office, to the last minute on the clock, he toyed with you. You weren't sure why Henry was in this peculiar mood, but you had a feeling it had something to do with the holidays being everything he wanted and more.
They were long gone—the holidays—and everyone was back to the regular grind. No more Christmas music played over the radio, no more decorations around the office, but still, a hellish amount of tinsel remained ingrained into the carpets. As Mr. Deaver's assistant, your winter holidays stretched just as long as his, and you came in refreshed and ready to work.
Henry had other plans, which started during his first meeting of the new year.
You sat at your desk, changing your planner and sending out confirmation calls to clients. With your phone pressed against the side of your face, all notifications went unchecked until you finished.
I'm so bored... and horny.
Aren't you in a meeting right now?
Yes.
You're horny sitting around a table of older men talking about how much money they made over the holidays?
Hey! I'm one of those old men!
Mr. Deaver, it's 10 in the morning. Maybe you need some coffee?
I need my tongue on your pussy.
Your face scorched, and you sucked your cheeks in to keep a sly smile from creeping along. Henry told you before that you often looked at your phone like there was porn playing and how it might alert others to your inherent deviousness, but it was always his bold little messages making you grin. Another text came in not five minutes later.
Is that a no? Or can I eat you for lunch?
Are you dissatisfied with the blowjob I gave you this morning?
Lol, not a chance. I just can't stop thinking about you. I can't get up from this table because I'm so hard thinking about ripping open that nice new blouse I bought you and cramming my face between your beautiful tits.
You're being wildly unprofessional today, Mr. Deaver. I'm going back to work now!
Can you do me one favour?
Yes?
Go to the bathroom and send me a naughty pic?
I can't! I have real WORK to do, unlike you, Mr. Big Shot.
I'll give you a big shot, alright.
You set your phone down and pictured your boyfriend in the conference room seated around a board of men with his head full of nasty thoughts. It seemed like a week had passed since he was a stranger in a café, ordering coffee in the morning and whiskeys at night. When he was a mysterious businessman writing in his planner with a silver pen, you never once pinned him to fantasize. It was a silly assumption, everyone had dirty thoughts, but his quiet demeanour and big duo-toned eyes skittered across the walls in deep thought reserved for important things. He was, after all, your good Christian boy.
Henry hinted all morning about going out for lunch. You suspected it meant he wanted to get into his car for a quickie, but you had other plans. He was easy to tease and easier to frustrate. You required payback for the distractions and to remind him that, when it came to naughtiness, you'd always have him beat.
You received a lucky hand when Henry got roped into another long meeting. He had settled down somewhat into the early evening, texting you to head home without him. You did not argue and set your plan in motion as soon as you returned to the condo and got undressed in the master bedroom. Henry would receive those naughty pictures he requested.
You snapped the first one, a playful pose with your hand and forearm covering only nipples. It took a bare minute for Henry to respond.
Omg now you decide to be a dirty girl? When you're not even here? Evil.
How much longer is your meeting?
Not sure. Hopefully over soon so I can come home and devour those beautiful tits. 😝
Too bad. I'm already in bed playing with myself.
He received another picture of your hand between your legs against the backdrop of his bedspread. It was for show, but the image of him getting aroused and squirming in front of his coworkers excited you. You needed a moment to work yourself up, planning what you would do the moment Henry charged through the doors with high expectations.
Sure enough, he raced home. By a quarter to seven, Henry was up the stairs, shed of his jacket and already loosening his tie. When you saw him come through the bedroom door with an outline pressed on the front of his trousers, wildness sparked in his eyes.
"Okay, no more teasing, understand?" He crawled onto the bed, stilled by the sole of your foot pressing against his chest.
"Not so fast."
"What is it?" He giggled.
"Take your clothes off for me," you demanded.
Henry paused, let out a small, exasperated chuckle and sprung off the mattress. He unravelled his tie, hanging it over the foot bench, and then worked the buttons of his dress shirt open. His long, graceful hands made short work of his belt, and when every zip, button and lace came undone, he peeled his clothes off, tossing you knowing looks like once he was naked, the game would be on. But you had plenty more in store for him as your legs parted, and your hand snuck down.
Angling your gaze at his boxers, you nodded. "Your underwear, sir."
He hooked his thumbs under the waist and pushed them down around his ankles. When he stood stark naked beside the bed, you hummed and let your fingers do a bit of wandering. Gaze fixed, he barely noticed your devious smirk.
"Mm, Daddy wants," Henry purred.
"No."
The word struck him like a soft slap, not enough to sting but quick to make him flutter his lashes. "What do you mean?"
"You were so very bad today. I think a bit of punishment is in order... Sitting in your meetings, texting me all those naughty things, being unprofessional at work. That's not how big boys act."
"Oh, come on," he laughed. "You do the same."
"You just get to stand there and watch me play with myself," you informed him.
Henry had much to say in protest, but you closed your eyes and circled two fingers around your clit, awakening your own arousal with the sound of him whining next to you.
"Babe, come on. Wanna play, too," Henry prodded.
"Mm, feels so good, just doing it myself."
Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Henry's arousal grow. His cock filled with blood, curving up and standing resolute. He gave himself two long strokes, but he longed for more than his palm. He wanted to plunge himself deep inside your warm wetness and feel his balls slapping against your soft, damp skin. The way you massaged yourself and spread your legs made him itch.
"Oh, don't do that. That's mine," Henry said with a pout.
He watched your middle finger disappear, slick noises and little moans driving him mad with desire. Saliva flooded his cheeks when he imagined dragging his tongue up and down your pussy lips, enclosing your clit with his mouth to give you just enough gentle suction to have your back arching.
"Baby, please," Henry begged. "Let me do it."
"Touch yourself," you replied.
His hand wrapped around the base of his cock, and he stroked himself at the same pace. You turned up the heat until he couldn't take it anymore. It amused you to watch such an important man struggling and lustful.
"Yes, stroke that big dick for me. Get yourself nice and hard. Oh, you've been fending off hard-ons all day, haven't you, Mr. Deaver?"
"Yeah," he panted.
"Been wanting to fuck my pussy while you were busy in all your meetings, huh? Thinking about how good it would feel to stuff your cock inside me?"
"Oh, fuck, babe."
You lifted your hand to your mouth, and Henry's jaw dropped. One wet finger disappeared between your lips, and he groaned as though he were in pain from watching you taste your juices. He wanted that sweetness on his tongue and took more steps until he could walk no further.
"Come on, let me taste that pussy."
"I might just make you jerk off for me while I get myself off. Perhaps that would be adequate discipline for distracting me with your nastiness."
"No," he shook his head. "Nuh-uh. I'll never get off."
"Is that a challenge?" Your eyes popped wide.
"No! Please, baby. Please don't torture me like this. I can't see you fingering that pussy right in my face. I need some. Please? Let me have my pussy. I promise I'll be a good boy from now on."
"Promises, promises," you teased.
"I do! I promise. Don't make me play by myself."
The tension building in your tummy lifted the base of your spine as your gentle flickers picked up speed. The glossiness in his eyes made it difficult to contain your amusement. Teasing him was too easy.
"Oh, it's so good. I might come soon, Mr. Deaver. Just like this."
Henry's shoulders slumped as he gave up stroking himself. "Baaaabe," he whined again. "Please, please, please. I'll be good. I'll be good, just please let me touch you."
Before he clambered onto the bed, you shot him a warning glare. "No, you don't have permission to touch my body right now."
"W-what? No! Come on. I've been waiting all day."
"That's not what you should do with your time, is it? You should have focused and did your work instead of getting yourself all hard daydreaming about dirty things. And begging for pictures. Such bad behaviour deserves punishment."
Instead of griping for permission, Henry rose his leg and planted his foot on the bed while he gripped his shaft and began pumping away. "Fine, you want me to jerk it for you? I'll give you anything you want."
His eyes closed as he worked himself into a passion, pleasured breaths filling the room. After a couple longer, slower strokes of his head, he settled at a quick pace, grinding his teeth together, trying to forget he wasn't allowed near you.
"I'll come like this. Thinking about that sweet pussy juice getting all over my cock."
"You wanna taste it, don't you?"
Henry shook his head, never opening his eyes. "No, this is fine. Plus, I can smell how wet you are and hear you fucking that soaked little hole. That's all I need."
He assumed he had bested you until you scooted closer to him, tilting your pelvis so he could see every naked inch of you and what your slick fingers were playing with. For a moment, you expected he might groan and beg again, but he drew in a deep breath, hand pumping away while he enjoyed you touching yourself.
"How badly do you want my cock?" He asked.
"I don't need it," you grinned.
"No? You don't need to feel me inside, your fingers doing it for you? You don't want to feel my hot tongue licking that little clit? You're okay with rubbing one out on your own?"
"Yes, sir."
"Good. Because all I have to do is remember how your face looked when I fucked your throat this morning. I don't need your pussy. I got it all up here, baby."
A shudder of air left him as he came closer to the edge. It was clear when he was getting close, as he liked to concentrate all stimulation at the tip where he was most sensitive. But he groaned in frustration, gripping the hilt of his shaft before trailing the same hand down to cup his balls—a move he had grown used to by your introduction.
"I bet you wish I were sucking on those balls right about now, huh?"
Henry pouted, eyebrows arching with desperation. A muffled groan rumbled in his throat, and he nodded his head yes. "Want you so bad."
"What will you do next time I'm busy at work?"
"I'll be a good boy."
"And?"
"I'll wait, and I won't bug you."
Your heat began to boil from the fake innocence on his sulking face. Henry was no angel, but when he brooded and whimpered like that, your heart faltered.
"No more naughtiness at work?" You asked.
"Only if you say I'm allowed."
A shiver skittered over your shoulders, and you stopped toying with your clit. "Promise?"
He dropped his foot back on the carpet and lowered to his knees, clutching at the blankets in hopes you would finally allow him to at least stroke your legs. "I promise."
"Come here, then."
Henry climbed onto the bed, shuffling himself between your thighs so quickly you had no time to blink before he pushed down on his throbbing erection. easing into your tightness. Once inside, he spasmed, pulled out and slipped back in fast. A large hand coasted down your leg and lifted your calf over his shoulder. Eyes screwed shut, Henry gripped your thigh, pulling it up to use it as a support for his battering.
With one arm clutching your leg in place, his free hand spread your lips for a better view. "Yes, oh, Christ, that pussy's so wet. So warm. Aw, fuck. I'm gonna come!"
"So soon?" You asked, but Henry had already slipped out and shot his cum down the back of your leg and opening. "Uh-oh. Sorry, sorry, sorry. Jesus fuck."
"Just a desperate boy, aren't you?"
"Told you, I needed you."
"I don't think I've ever seen you come so fast."
Henry tried to laugh at himself, a hint of shame tainting his post-orgasm expression. He laid down next to you, chest heaving until his breath levelled.
"Would you like to sit on my face?" He asked.
"I'm covered in cum."
"I don't care," he whispered. "Hop on, baby."
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freddiesaysalright · 5 years ago
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Peace Like A River - Epilogue
A Gwilym Lee x Reader Story
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Summary: Reader has found her peace in Gwilym. Violet shares how much it means to her on a special day.
Word Count: 1.6K
Tag List: @psychosupernatural @someone-get-a-medic, @bensrhapsody, @deakyclicks, @crazylittlethingcalledobsession, @minigranger, @simmisblog, @assembledherethevolunteers, @lookuptotheskiesandsee, @readinghorn, @riddikuluslypotter, @doingalrightt, @misslolasworld, @lemurian-starship, @ravenedges-lies, @painkiller80, @imgonnabeyourslave, @crazyweirdocalledfriday, @ixchel-9275, @sincerelygmg, @lv7867, @unicorn-princess-1999, @delilahmay39, @chlobo6, @dragon-out-of-water, @radio-hoo-ha, @agentmalfoy24601, @thigh-your-mother-down
A/N: Here is the super sappy promised epilogue! Y’all it is GUSHY but after such a wild ride, I thought they all deserved some pure love lol. Thank you all so much for the love you’ve shown this story. I had so much fun writing it and seeing how all of you reacted to the twists and turns. Please enjoy the last part of Peace Like a River :)
Part I  Part II  Part III  Part IV  Part V  Part VI  Part VII  Part VIII  Part IX  Part X  Part XI
Epilogue here we go!!!
You twisted one last curl around Violet’s face and pinned it carefully to the back of her head. She smiled at her reflection in the mirror. She was so beautiful, and you could see the excitement in her eyes. You leaned over her shoulder and kissed her cheek.
“Are you nervous at all?” you wondered.
She shook her head. “No. Jamie is it for me. I know it.”
You grinned. “I’m so happy for you, baby. I just can’t believe you’re getting married.”
“Mom,” she groaned with a roll of her eyes, but she was still smiling. “I know I’ll always be your baby.”
“Yes, you will,” you assured her, giving her another small squeeze.
“Mom, I need to tell you something,” she said seriously. “Before the others get here.”
“The others” you knew referred to her younger siblings - Sybil, Olivia, and Tom. Your brow furrowed. What could she not say to them?
“What is it?” you asked.
“I was in New York for that conference - about a month ago - and I...well, I met up with Henry.”
You blinked and stepped back. “How did it go?”
She looked at her hands folded neatly on her lap. “Not great. Especially not after I told him about Dad.”
After you and Gwilym were married, he adopted Violet officially. Only then did you give her her father’s last name, Lee. You could imagine Henry hadn’t taken that well.
You knelt down in front of her and took her hands.
“Did he hurt you?” you asked, heart rate quickening with worry.
“No,” she said, trying to smile but it came out as more of a grimace. “No, not physically. He just yelled at me for a bit. It was frightening, for sure, but I just walked away.”
“Do you regret going?”
“No,” she repeated. “I was always curious about him. Now I know.”
“Do you want to tell your dad?” you wondered.
“Not today,” she said. “But at some point, I will. It made me realize how grateful I am for him. I’ve always loved him, but that whole encounter just...made it abundantly clear why.”
“The best thing to do now is forget him,” you said. “You have a wonderful father who loves you very much.”
“I know,” she returned, smiling in earnest now. “I know I do.”
Just then, Gwilym appeared in the doorway with Sybil and Olivia. They both gasped when they saw Violet and immediately began gushing about how great she looked. She beamed at her little sisters and embraced them excitedly. Gwilym stood frozen, eyes wide and mouth slightly parted. You chuckled and slipped an arm around his waist.
“Shocked?” you questioned.
He nodded stiffly. “I can’t believe that’s our little girl.”
“I know,” you agreed. 
“I mean, I still remember her with whipped cream on her face and saying Merry Breakfast,” he said. “That feels like it was yesterday.”
“To me too,” you said. “But she’s not a little girl anymore.”
“No, she’s not,” he said. “She’s about to make Jamie the luckiest man in the world. Second to me, anyway.”
You giggled and kissed him on the cheek. Violet finally shook off her sisters and approached you and Gwilym. As she looked at him, you saw her eyes shining with tears. He wrapped her up in his arms.
“Scared, love?” he asked.
She shook her head. “No, I just love you so much.”
“Aw, I love you too, sweet girl,” he returned. “Are you ready? Jamie’s waiting for you.”
She took a deep breath and grinned. “I’m ready.”
Tom was a groomsman, so he was with Jamie. He was waiting to walk Sybil and Olivia down the aisle first. Then you and Gwilym would follow with Violet. She had insisted on you both giving her away for equality’s sake. You waited with her at the front of the aisle and you saw her squeeze Gwilym’s arm. The music changed and it was time for the bride to make her way to the groom.
The ceremony was beautiful. You cried through their vows - which Jamie and Violet had written themselves. Gwilym actually held up very well. You could see how happy he was for them. But he didn’t cry. He did put his arm around you to comfort you.
As the happy couple made their way back down the aisle as husband and wife, you leaned into Gwilym. He pressed his lips to your temple and whispered how much he loved you, exactly as he had done on your own wedding day. You closed your eyes and just let him hold you for a moment, taking you back to that time.
The reception hall was lovely. It was simple, with just a few lights scattered around to create a soft, warm glow. After pictures were over, you all settled at the head table with the bride and groom. Violet was absolutely glowing. She gave Jamie a sweet kiss and then she stood up, clinking a fork against her champagne glass. The room quieted and turned eyes on her.
“Thank you, everyone, for being here on this special day,” she began. “I feel so blessed to have so many friends and family who care for me and Jamie. We are truly grateful.”
She paused and took a deep breath.
“I wanted to say a few things before we get too far into the reception,” she said. “Some things that have been weighing on my heart in the days before my wedding.” She turned toward you and Gwilym. “Mom, Dad, as I thought about marriage, I realized I was ready because of the example you set. Watching you two instilled in me tools for navigating a partnership that have been fundamental in my relationship with Jamie, and will continue as the pillars of our marriage. Things like respect, understanding, open-mindedness, and most importantly unconditional love. I knew Jamie was the one for me because I recognized these qualities in him. Qualities I’d seen from the two people I admire most in the world.”
She took a sip of champagne.
“Gotta drink before this part because it’s about to get emotional,” she joked, and everyone chuckled.
“Mom,” she said, meeting your eyes. “To me, you’ve always been strength. You have survived so much, and you went through a literal hell for me. And yet, you never made me feel unwanted or like a burden. You have taught me to demand respect for myself and to work hard for the things I want. You’ve taught me more about loving myself than I could even conceive of. And you’ve shown me the value of taking chances. You are my biggest cheerleader, confidant, and friend. You are my inspiration. I love you so much.”
She finished with a smile. Through watery eyes, you blew her a kiss. She met Gwilym’s gaze then, and you saw tears spring to her eyes.
“Dad,” she said shakily, and she had to swallow the lump in her throat. “This is gonna be hard, but I promise I’m really happy.”
He laughed and smiled warmly at her. She cleared her throat.
“Dad,” she began again, stronger this time. “I don’t remember it, but I’ve been told the story of how I chose you my whole life. One day, I called you ‘Daddy’ and since then, you just were. I love that story, and I think it’s so incredible that I selected you out of all the men in the world to be that for me. But, um…” she trailed off, her bottom lip quivering. “But you chose me too. Lots of men would have run screaming from everything that Mom and I meant. But you stayed, when you had every reason to step back. No one would have blamed you. But you didn’t. So yes, I chose you once. But you chose me and my mother over and over and over again. And you gave us all of you every single day.”
She sniffled and paused again. A tear slid down her cheek.
“You’ve shown me what a good man looks like,” she choked out. “You’ve shown me what a good father looks like. You’ve shown me what love looks like. Thank you for choosing us.”
You looked over at Gwilym and saw tears flowing down his face. He was trying to wipe them away, but quickly decided it wasn’t worth it. He got up and reached his daughter in two strides, completely engulfing her in his embrace. You saw her shoulders shake with a sob as she beamed up at him, no longer bothering to hold back her tears either. You watched them together and felt like your heart was breaking and also dancing around inside your chest. 
Gwilym held Violet tight. He was overwhelmed with affection for her in this moment, though he never thought it possible to love her any more than he already did.
“I love you, my girl,” he whispered. “I will always choose you.”
She laughed through another sob and kissed his wet cheek. “I love you too, Dad.”
They made it through and finally, Jamie took Violet’s hand and led her out to the dance floor for their first dance. They’d actually gotten lessons to dance a foxtrot to Queen’s “You’re My Best Friend.” You looked at Gwilym, still dabbing your eyes.
“I can’t believe she did that,” he sighed. 
“I know, she got us good, huh?” you teased.
He laughed. “Look how happy she is.”
“We did okay with her,” you said, leaning on his shoulder.
“More than okay,” he replied. “She’s perfect.”
“Well done,” you told him. With a smile, you added, “Dear Friend.”
He kissed your forehead and smirked. “You as well, Dear Friend.”
Together, you watched your other children join Violet and Jamie on the floor. Your family was growing, and would continue to grow as each of them found their way in the world. You and Gwilym would always be there for them, providing a home, and showing them love. You were their peace, and they were yours.
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365daysofsasuhina · 5 years ago
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[ 365 Days of SasuHina || Day Three Hundred Thirty-Three: The Phone is Ringing ] [ Uchiha Sasuke, Hyūga Hinata, Hyūga Hiashi, Haruno Sakura, Hyūga Hanabi, Hyūga Neji ] [ SasuHina ] [ Verse: Best Years of Your Life ] [ AO3 Link ]
It takes exactly eight rings before the answering machine picks up.
When it does, a honey-sweet voice speaks.
“Hello! You’ve reached Hinata Hyūga. I can’t make it to the phone right now, but leave your name and your number, and I’ll c-call you back as soon as I can!”
She’s always hated how she stutters in it. After a dozen tries and every single one having at least one hiccup, she just gave up and took the last one. In part, she wonders if it’s played any roles in certain calls simply hanging up rather than leaving a message.
The machine is on a little table in the entryway of her apartment, the volume soft as not to be too terribly overheard by anyone walking by. Beside it is a little bowl where she typically keeps her keys, and a hook for her coat and purse. Today, all three are missing.
When the phone rings, it proceeds all the way to voicemail.
“Hinata, this is your father. This is the fourth time I’ve tried calling you the past two days, and you’ve still returned none of my messages. This is hardly becoming behavior, young lady. Something we’ll have to discuss once you finally get back to me. Your sister tells me you’ve been ignoring her texts. You can’t avoid us, Hinata. We’re family, no matter how disdainful you might find that to be.”
There’s the subtle sound of a landline being set back in its cradle, and then the apartment goes quiet again. A bright red 5 blinks along the screen, eager for attention.
No one gives it.
A few hours later, rain begins to pour. Carried by the wind, it impacts rather noisily against the windows that face the north, droplets exploding and slithering down the glass. The view from the fifth story blurs. Downtown is drenched in grey as the storm settles over, headlights a soft yellow as they struggle to cut through the gloom. Neon signs of downtown flicker and warp in the view through the water.
Just as the sun starts to go down, the phone begins to ring again. After eight tones with no answer, the machine picks up.
“Hey Hina! It’s Sakura. Just thought I’d check in on you - it’s been a while! Haven’t heard from you in a hot minute, and uh...figured I’d see if maybe you’d be down to hang for a while! I’m back in town next week for a conference, and I’d love to see you. I know you’re pretty busy, but hey, if you’ve got a spare hour or two while I’m around, let me know! Bye.”
There’s a few muffled background noises before the message cuts off completely. The 5 changes to a 6.
Night falls, and still the table remains empty save for the machine. Light creeps in around the main door, and a light on a timer in the kitchen flares to life. Otherwise, the apartment remains dark, and just as silent.
And so it goes until morning.
At seven am sharp, the phone is ringing once again. Once, twice, all the way to eight times.
“Hello Miss Hyūga. This is your supervisor Kurenai Yūhi. It was brought to my attention that you failed to appear at work yesterday with no prior notice. I know that you mentioned, in passing, that you had some...personal issues going on. But work policy mandates that, outside of an emergency, you give at least eight hours notice before a missed shift. If this happens again, I’ll have no choice but to write you up and place you on temporary suspension. You’ve been an exemplary employee during your three years with us, but I can’t make exceptions. Please contact me at your earliest convenience.”
The line goes quiet.
The table is empty.
The 6 becomes a 7.
Midafternoon, the ringing tone of the phone shrilly sounds five times...and then silence. On the phone’s caller ID, an obvious spam number displays. It leaves no message.
It’s nearly five o’clock when it rings again. And again. And again, until her pre-recorded message greets the silent apartment.
“...hey, ‘nata. It’s me, Hanabi. Look, uh...I’m seriously starting to get a little freaked out? You’ve never ignored me this long. Not even when I broke that old rabbit figurine Mom gave you. Please, just...let me know you’re okay? I dunno what I did to make you mad, or...maybe it’s not me you’re mad at. But I’m your sister. We might not always get along, but like...we’re sisters. Talk to me, ‘nata. If Dad’s being an asshole, just ignore him. But please...don’t shut me out. Okay? Love you…”
There’s a small, audible sigh...and then silence. The 7 blinks, and is reborn as an 8.
The rest of the evening passes quietly. The only interruption is a rowdy group of young men stumbling drunkenly past the door, the sober among them shushing for silence only to be ignored. They enter the apartment next door, where music begins to play and raucous laughter easily bleeds through the thin walls. But despite all of the rowdiness that carries well into the night, there’s no one home to complain.
The next morning, it’s foggy with a light misting of rain. Kurenai calls again and informs Hinata that her formal suspension is now in place. Should she miss one more day of work, she’ll be forced to terminate her employment.
The 8 becomes a 9.
A random number calls around ten, proclaiming that a recent fraud case in her town may have affected her identity, and to immediately call this number to confirm. Yet another clear case of spam.
9 makes way for the double digits of 10.
And then, in the early afternoon, another call.
“Hinata. This is your cousin Neji. Your father is furious that you have yet to return his calls, and is in the process of filing a missing person’s report. I implore you - if you are simply being obstinate - to drop this charade immediately before the police are forced to intervene. You know we can’t have a scandal like this in the family over a petty disagreement. Whatever Hiashi has done...surely it isn’t worth things becoming this complicated. Whatever has happened, you know I’m here for you. But this has carried on long enough. I only hope that...drama is all this is, and you aren’t in any trouble, cousin. Please call me as soon as you hear this message.”
...10 becomes 11.
The day continues to wane. The rain continues to fall. The machine continues to flash, seemingly desperate to be seen as the bright red numerical digits only get brighter as the ambient light fades.
...and then the door opens.
Heavy-footed, a figure steps in, exhaustion clear in their posture, but otherwise seemingly fine. A bag is tossed under the table, keys barely flung into the bowl. Coat still worn, she pauses as she spies the machine.
“...oh, s-shoot…”
A dainty finger presses the play button. The first message is a telemarketer, which she promptly deletes. The next four are from her father, and Hinata’s lips press into a thin, irritated line. Each message becomes more and more agitated, and a small part of her can’t help but feel satisfaction.
After all, he brought this all on himself.
Her gut twinges in guilt at Sakura’s message - she’ll have to call her back later. Kurenai’s earn a grimace. She has her mobile number...why didn’t she try there? Hanabi also makes her shoulders wilt guiltily. As soon as she’s done, she’ll shoot her a text. She just...hasn’t been in the headspace.
Neji’s, however, makes her swear. Sure, it probably looked bad, but...really? Really? What an idiot her father is...she’ll call Neji and let him know Hiashi can call off the stupid missing person’s case. And let him know that any drama isn’t her fault. That lies solely on her father’s stubborn shoulders!
But before she gets to any of that, she takes out her cell and scrolls through her contacts, finding the appropriate name before calling. It rings once, twice, three times.
“Hello?”
“Hey...I’m home.”
“Oh, good. Glad you made it okay. So, uh…?”
“I’ll talk to my landlord tomorrow. It’s g-going to take some doing. I don’t have much, but some should probably go into storage…”
“That’s fine. I think there’s units near my place, so we can just put what you don’t want in there.”
“All right. Um...I think I might have gotten fired…”
“Oh shit, really?”
“I’ll call Kurenai here in a minute, but...for some reason she never bothered with my mobile. And I was just so out of it…”
“Well, hopefully she’ll understand. Anyone else?”
“Family, mostly...my father being r-ridiculous. Hanabi was worried, and Neji. But I’ll talk to them, too. They aren’t going to be happy…”
“Sometimes you have to think about your own happiness, Hinata. This is what you want, right…?”
“It is.”
“...I don’t want you to feel pressured.”
“I don’t. I told you they’d react like this. I knew they would...it’s my fault for being so quiet about it, but...I just didn’t want to deal with it after telling him. I needed a few days. Seems even that was enough for them to go ballistic…”
“All the more reason to stick to your decision.”
“I know...thank you, Sasuke.”
“We’ll make this work, with or without them. I love you.”
“...I love you too. I better go, though...I’ve got a l-lot of phone calls to make before I can call it a night.”
“All right. You need anything, just let me know. We’ll get you moved in and settled down. And if the job thing fell through, we’ll find you something new. Maybe even something closer.”
“Yeah...I just really like this job...I feel d-dumb for not calling in, I just…”
“Well, talk to Kurenai. Maybe she can pull some strings for you.”
“Maybe…”
“Hey, it’s gonna be fine. I’ll talk to you in the morning, okay? Get things straightened out, and call me when you’re done. We can plan from there.”
“I will. Goodnight.”
“Night.”
Hearing the line go quiet, Hinata ends the call and sighs. Just the first of many...it’s going to be a long night. Glancing to the 0 on her message machine, she makes her way in to her sitting room and dials the next number.
Here we go...
                                                            .oOo.
     This is really random, and uh...I really dunno what it is xD The suspense concept kinda just hit me, and I rolled with it as best I could given how day tired and burnt out I am, lol      But in case it isn't clear: Hinata told her father she's planning on moving in with Sasuke because they're dating. Mister Uptight Jerkface decided to throw a huge tantrum because traditionalism and being a controlling father. Hinata thus just...disappeared for a few days at Sasuke's place, hence missing all the calls (and ignoring texts because she just...did NOT want to deal with that).      I dunno if I really managed to make it as suspenseful as I wanted, with the question of whether or not something had REALLY happened to her. But I tried - I don't write this sort of thing very often xD      Buuut anyway, it's late, and I have yet another looong day ahead of me tomorrow. So just a warning: I might not post tomorrow. I know I'm abysmally behind, but this whole situation is VERY draining, and I'd rather be late than post garbo for these entries.      That said, I'll do my best. But no promises. For now though, I need to get some sleep! Thank you for reading~
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studyblxrr · 5 years ago
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Singapore Scholarship Interview Questions and Experience
Overview of scholars’ programmes and scholarships for which I went for interviews:
Scholars’ Programmes: 1. National University of Singapore (NUS): University Scholars’ Programme (USP) 2. National Technological University (NTU): CN Yang Scholars’ Programme
Scholarships: 1. Civil Aviation Authority of Singapore Local and Overseas Scholarships (CAAS) (2 rounds) 2. National Technological University: Nanyang Scholarship 3. National University of Singapore: NUS Merit Scholarship (2nd tier; 1st round)
This post has been long overdue but... After my GCE ‘A’ Level a couple years ago, I applied for a number of scholarships and scholars’ programme locally. However, when I was shortlisted for the interviews for these, I realised there were very few platforms on which they actually shared in-depth information about how the interviews are conducted so now that I’m kind of done with all my interviews, I’ve decided to compile everything I went through and share it with you guys. I was actually also just shortlisted for the MOH Healthcare Merit Award / Scholarship interview, but declined to attend it (so I’m sorry to those who were curious to know what the interview would be like) because I’ve decided to enrol into CN Yang Scholars’ Programme. I’ll give you a breakdown of the reasons why in a bit. All right, enough rambling, now it begins!
CAAS Scholarship Interview 
Result: Not offered (honestly because I did ZERO preparation for the actual interview lol halp) 
There were two rounds of interviews for this scholarship. The first involved something like a ‘roleplay’ where we discussed how we would solve a simulated issue. I passed this round. Honestly, just speak up and try to ‘put yourself out there’ more, so that the interviewer / observer can hear your opinions better and ‘get to know you’ more easily. 
The second round of interview is way more formal, with a panel including about 4 management/executive-level guys. I’m pretty sure one of the Directors was there. Since I did not pass this round, I won’t share my answers back then, but I think the trick is to really read up on Singaporean current affairs beforehand, read some opinion pieces (maybe from the newspapers forums), and know about CAAS well!!
The Interview Questions: 
1. Tell us about yourself.  2. What are some of your strengths and weaknesses?  3. What do you know about CAAS? 
4. Do you think females should also partake in NS? --> I answered this question very poorly (I think), but the interviewer then told me that I could’ve said something like... ‘females also serve the country in different ways, such as in the public sector, in their daily contributions to the workforce and even taking care of their children and their families for the future...and military / NS is not the only way one can contribute to Singapore’s society’ 
I can’t really recall the rest of the questions, but good luck! 
NUS USP Interview 
Result: Offered Summary of benefits: Basically a programme that entails 2 years of compulsary on-campus living (NOT sponsored accommodation, but simply a requirement of the programme) that focuses on critical thinking skills and nurturing all-rounded thinking regardless of courses pursued; known to be pretty rigorous, involving classes even after ‘lesson hours’ and intensive writing; according to my seniors, this programme really trains your writing skills so it kind of helps in the long run, with writing theses and all that. pretty cool programme imo.
The Interview: this was a pretty chill, casual interview if i’m completely honest. there were 2 interviewers -- a prof of the programme and a USP alumni.
Q: Tell us about yourself, in terms of how your life has been and what got you interested in USP. A: Well, I’d like to think that I have led quite a unique life in that I spent the first 10 years of my life living in Malaysia. And because my entire childhood was spent there close to nature, it shaped my thinking such that I have a greater appreciation for more hands-on and experiential learning. So, even when I came to Singapore for primary education onwards, I was constantly seeking ways to achieve a more balanced, and exciting education path for myself. For instance, in secondary school, I tried my hand in community service, which made me realise my passion for people (etc. etc. etc.); and then in Junior College, I decided to pick up photography because I realised that I was lacking the more ‘artistic’ aspect of life. So I did that, alongside my original interest in community service, which I continued to pursue with my own self-initiated Fundraising projects. Why I’m interested in USP is because I realised that there are multiple tiers to it that allow me to be exposed to a wider variety of knowledge fields and skill sets, and also more abstract and humanities-focused courses even though I’m interested in joining a science course.
Q: You mentioned that you spent the first 10 years of your life in Malaysia, can you tell us more about what you think of the sense of rootedness you have towards Singapore vs Malaysia? A: (I’m assuming this is pretty specific towards my previous answer and probably none of you will be asked this as well so I’ll skip on what I replied; but I gave a pretty neutral answer, saying that I’m thankful towards M’sia for having shaped me as a child to think the way that I do today, and towards S’pore for the opportunities I have had to grow even more as a more mature person etc.)
Q: What was your community service project about and what did you learn from it? A: It was a fundraising project that aimed to raise funds so that the organisation we were working with would be able to continue to sustain its operations, and fulfil its aim of keeping all its programmes free of charge. Because I was the student leader of this project, I was in charge of coordinating recruitment, attendance as well as liaising with managements to host our fundraising events. So through these, I was able to learn how to communicate better with others and negotiate for better terms for my project. Because I was doing this along with exams, and another year-long tuition programme for less fortunate children, I also learnt to manage my stress and the importance of pacing myself so that I would not overwork and burn out.
Q: Speaking of non-profit organisations, what do you think of them in general? A: I feel like ultimately, non-profit organisations are still businesses that require a certain amount of profit and/or revenue to continue sustaining their operations. So, in the end it’s still a lot of communicating with other for-profit businesses to sell their efforts so that they would be sponsored, and so that others would be enticed to give back to the community by helping to sustain the non-profit organisations. My fundraising project was actually able to give me more insight into the behind-the-scenes of running a non-profit organisation, and we realised that even donations had to be audited and checked, and the staff still had to be paid. etc. etc. etc.
Q: What do you think sets you apart from your peers such that you will be able to excel under USP? A: I believe that I have the passion and the drive to keep up with the rigorous programmes and classes at USP. I am also very ambitious, so I will constantly strive to improve myself. Because I’ve always been very receptive to both the sciences and the humanities and have equal appreciation for both, I am also confident in understanding and adapting to the style of USP. I also think that because of my experiences, I will also be able to bring more unique ideas to the table as USP and contribute to more meaningful discussions.
NTU CN Yang Scholars’ Programme Interview
Result: Offered Summary of benefits: Includes the Nanyang Scholarship and guaranteed overseas final year research project (5 to 8 months), guaranteed overseas exchange for one semester, guaranteed four years of stay in NTU halls of residence, opportunities for research attachment from Year One onwards, opportunities to attend an international conference with full subsidy, opportunities to meet top leading scientists and academics, opportunities for PhD study at NTU or Joint PhD with partner university (Minimum CGPA of 4.00 for application of a scholarship from NTU)
The Interview: again, a pretty chill, pretty brief interview. there was only 1 interviewer.
Q: Tell me briefly about yourself. A: (summarised achievements + passions/interests)
Q: Do you intend to do a PhD after you graduate with a Bachelor’s Degree? A: Yes, because........ (just talk about furthering your passions and a PhD honing new skills...)
To be honest, the rest of the interview was mostly the interviewer explaining what the scholarship and scholars’ programme would entail. It was quite an easy breezy interview.
NTU Nanyang Scholarship Interview (under SCBE) 
As my first-choice course was Chemical Engineering, naturally I had my Nanyang Scholarship interview under the School of Chemical and Biomedical Engineering (SCBE), with the Academic Chair and an administrative staff as the interviewers. 
Result: Offered along with ADDITIONAL LEAD AWARD  Summary of Nanyang Scholarship benefits: Full coverage of subsidised tuition fees (after Tuition Grant), Living allowance of S$6,500 per academic year, Accommodation allowance of up to S$2,000 per academic year (Applicable to scholarship holders who reside in NTU hostels only), Travel grant of S$5,000 for an overseas programme (one-off), Computer allowance of S$1,750 (one-off)
Summary of LEAD Award benefits: can expect up to SGD$6,000 reward in the form of one of the following four options: (1) $1,500 cash award per semester (max 4 semesters); or (2) Overseas Internship for 2 months at MIT or other world renowned overseas laboratories for research; or (3) Leadership development/ conference/ workshop; or (4) Overseas study trip
--> Trick: if you ever get such a top-up award, just opt for the cash grant as that’s the easiest to reap the full benefit. You’re better off sourcing for your own internships, as the MIT ones are not guaranteed to be available for your cohort, or there might be more administrative procedures for that. 
The Interview: 
Q: Tell me about yourself.  A: (summarised achievements + passions/interests) -- you can talk a little bit about why you chose to study your course of choice 
Q: Tell me more about your leadership positions in JC and secondary school.  A: (again, summarise your achievements - phrase them in such a way that you end with a positive result that YOU helped to achieve) 
More follow-up questions about past work experiences...honestly, just answer from your heart and be truthful. They don’t bite. 
Afterwards, they pretty much just started telling me about the scholarship and how I can benefit from it. Following that, they offered me the LEAD Award top-up, which I did NOT see coming but was very flattered by. 
NUS Merit Award Interview (under Faculty of Science, Pharmacy)
Result: Offered Merit Award (2nd tier) Summary of benefits: Tuition fees (after MOE Tuition Grant subsidy), S$6,000 annual living allowance, S$2,000 one-time computer allowance upon enrolment, Guaranteed an offer of a 1-semester Student Exchange Programme (SEP) with one of NUS’ overseas partner universities, Guaranteed offers of on-campus accommodation for the first 2 years of undergraduate studies, provided the Scholar submits a complete hostel admission application every year within the prescribed application periods, and fulfils NUS’s eligibility criteria for NUS on-campus accommodation.
The Interview:
I have to say that this was one of my worst interview experiences. The questions were pretty standard at first, asking about (again) yourself, your past experiences, why you chose your course of study. But after a while it took a dark turn. So, by this point I’d already been accepted into the Pharmacy course, so I was merely interviewing for the scholarship and NOT the course. Yet, the interviewer (one of 3 in the panel) started to bombard me with questions about why I got a B in A Level Chemistry (FYI: I had all A’s and a B in H2 Chem), what went wrong (his words, not mine), why I deserved to be given a scholarship IN SPITE OF THE ‘B’, what I will do to overcome this stupid shortcoming...... blah blah blah EXTREMELY TERRIBLE AND ELITIST INTERVIEWER.
But again, that was my experience. I could’ve just gotten a really mean interviewer. Just go in with an open mind. But I left the interview feeling really looked down on and...shamed. Which is sad because now that I am way past that, I wish I had gone back in and told him that grades are not what make a person. 
And with that, we have come to the end of this reeeeeeally long (and overdue) post. 
If any of you guys have anything to ask me about scholarships / scholarship application processes in Singapore, feel free hit me up in the ask box! :) Hehe. 
Oh, and if you were curious, I accepted the C N Yang Scholarship + Nanyang Scholarship (with SCBE LEAD Award) in the end. If you would like me to talk more about how I am finding NTU life, how each Scholars’ Programme works, how I am benefitting from my scholarship, and so on, do ask away! (https://studyblxrr.tumblr.com/ask)
PS. For those of you who might be curious, my profile of entry was A’s in H2 Biology, H2 Math, H2 Econs, GP, PW and a B in H2 Chemistry. I was originally from the Raffles IP programme, with experiences in a fundraising CIP project and a year-long tutoring volunteer programme as ‘extra-curricular highlights’. 
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