#Somehow stuck around for a good few YEARS (which is impressive since now it's usually like a few months max)

[drawbudd]

wanted to practice drawing real people and I also happened to have recently rewatched the fnaf movie so. naturally (?) I created this

[aritsukemo]

hii !! can i request a sunny x reader where reader is like vyn richter from tears of themis? here's a brief description if u don't know abt him!

vyn richter has a calm and elegant vibe and nothing seems to be of challenge to him, he's good at observing people's emotions and is very, if not, too sharp at observations, (he's a psychiatrist which explains it), those around him feel at ease and naturally open up to him, displaying their truest self

that's all, thank you!

Sunny with a Vyn Richter!reader

Warnings: This post contains not so vague spoilers for one of the endings of Omori! If you haven't seen the full game yet, I wouldn't suggest reading unless you want to be spoiled! ⚠️

A/N: So I guess this means I'm opening requests now? 😅 I've heard hearsay about this game but have never actually played it. Maybe this is life telling me I should give it a try, hehe~ ( I apologize in advance for how ooc both the reader and Sunny is! )

↪ When you moved to Faraway Town two years after the incident happened, Sunny didn't think much of it. Heck, being as far gone as he was at the time, he probably didn't even notice having completely cut himself off from the outside world

↪ It wasn't until another two years later when Kel finally managed to get Sunny out of the house that he was able to meet you. By that time, you had long become a well known figure in town and made many friends, Kel included, which is how you inevitably met one of his best friends, Sunny

↪ At first, you hadn't made the most lasting impression on him. Yes, you were kind to him, but nothing about you really stuck with him. If anything, he found you a little intimidating since everyone seemed to hold you in such high regards whenever you were brought up. That being said, his first hangout with you was from a distance and Kel did all of the talking for him

↪ At the end of the day, you had opted to walk Sunny home since Kel had to run some errands for his mom. Sunny wasn't fond of the idea but, of course, didn't verbalize his thoughts. Kel wasn't planning on leaving you two alone either, but since you managed to persuade him otherwise, he ended up leaving Sunny in your care, much to the boy's dismay

↪ As you walked side by side, you maintained a one-sided conversation, not at all bothered or discouraged by the fact that Sunny made no effort to answer your surface level questions or say anything at all. Instead, you continued speaking and shifted the conversation to focus on yourself so that he could get to know you better and hopefully give him the incentive to talk about himself..which didn't happen

↪ When you finally made it to his home, Sunny was relieved. It's not that you were overbearing or anything, but he wasn't very fond of walking with strangers..

↪ "I had a wonderful time with you today, Sunny. Remember, if there's anything bothering you, I'm only a few blocks away."

↪ Over the course of a few mere months, you had managed to become a staple in Sunny's life. Everyday you had made it a habit to check up on him and although he didn't answer the door at first, he eventually did and got used to your daily visits. You always brought food, made conversation, and occasionally subtly questioned him about things regarding his health. Usually, Sunny would be put off by this behavior or even a little annoyed by it, but things felt different with you. He doesn't know how to explain it, but something about you just made him feel so safe and comfortable..

↪ That behavior eventually led him to adding a counterpart of you in the false world in his head and even then, they acted exactly like you to the point where his own counterpart feared you'd find out the truth..which you inevitably did

↪ It was a tough, tough battle. In his daydreams, you had always managed to weasel your way into Omori's friend group no matter how many times he reset/changed things. Additionally, he always had the reoccurring dreams of you somehow finding out the truth which inevitably led to Omori having to kill you over and over and over again in order to protect Sunny

↪ But after a while even his counterpart, who was created to fight tooth and nail to keep the truth hidden, fell victim to your comfort and could no longer hide anything from you which led to Sunny becoming rather..distressed. It was even worse that you noticed his distress irl

↪ That day was the first time in a long time Sunny ever let someone in completely. He told you everything. What happened, his daydreams, all of it. He fully expected a negative reaction from you, I mean, he looked and sounded crazy, but.. You gave him a smile and kept a steady grip on his hand instead..

↪ "I figured something like this was the case.. Oh, don't get me wrong. I had no idea of how deep this went, but from what I heard from the others I was able to piece most things together on my own.. Either way, I can understand why you would keep things under wraps. Such a traumatizing situation like that must have been hard on both you and Basil..hm. Regardless of everything, please know that I'll always be here for you, Sunny."

↪ And that was the day you sold every ounce of your future free time to him lmao-

↪ After you made it clear that you don't think differently of him for what happened, Sunny has been glued to your side. He comes to you for just about everything and he'll pretty much do anything if it meant he can be in your presence. Going outside and hanging out with you and Kel, running errands with you, and more!

↪ Little by little, you helped him however you could in order to hopefully better his mental health. You could somehow always tell how he felt despite his neutral face so he could never hide anything from you. He became just a tad bit more talkative ( Not to anyone else, he was pretty much the same towards them ) and thanks to your help, got little better at conveying how he felt. It wasn't great, but it was progress and that's all that mattered to you

↪ When everything hit the fan, you were away on a family vacation and when you came back, you were informed that Sunny and Basil were sent to the hospital and immediately payed them a visit. You were just a little worried, moreso for Basil than Sunny since Basil wasn't as willing to open up to you despite your many efforts, but that slight unease soon went away when you visited Sunny

↪ He didn't tell you what happened or why his eye was covered in bandages, but he did let you know that he told Kel and the others what really happened to Mari. You were so proud of him and made sure to let him know of how proud you were that he was able to overcome everything on his own. You weren't expecting him to crack a smile

↪ You were truly the best thing that could've ever happened to him, he thinks

Dividers were made by me, pictures used are from Pinterest, post formatting is inspired by @xxsabitoxx

[literallymitch]

𝐆𝐨𝐫𝐠𝐞𝐨𝐮𝐬 || 𝐃.𝐃

requested: no

summary: the first part of the reputation series in which the reader first meets Damiano

pairing: Damiano David x famous!reader

word count: 2k

what kind of content: fluff

warnings: drinking

passages written in cursive are flashbacks

some of the lyrics were changed so they would fit the story

Please don’t steal any of my conten and release it elsewhere. Also all of this is fiction. I don’t know these people in real life nor do I know how they act

a/n I I hope you all enjoy this one, as much as I do. I’m so excited about this series jdhidcuheu. What song do you guys think is next? As always please keep in mind english is not my first language. I’m super happy about feedback!!

With a buzzing head I woke up. I shouldn’t have drank so much yesterday. Feeling the after effects of the alcohol I consumed yesterday, I looked at the sleeping figure next to me. A gorgeous man with brown hair and tattoos that fitted him perfectly. I smiled to myself, knowing he was the reason I probably drank a little too much yesterday. There was no way I would have found the courage to actually talk to him otherwise. He looked like an angel sleeping so peacefully in my queen-sized bed. As I looked at his sleeping figure, an idea popped into my head. I grabbed my notebook and went to my balcony that was connected to my bedroom. Looking at him one last time through the huge window in front of me. I opened my notebook and started writing down some lyrics in memory of last night.

You should take it as a compliment That I got drunk and made fun of the way you talk You should think about the consequence Of your magnetic field being a little too strong

“We wanted to start working on our next album soon too.” , the gorgeous man in front of me said with an Italian accent.

After a few drinks I was finally talking to him. I was too busy taking in his beauty that I didn’t really listen  to what he just said to me. All of a sudden, I started giggling.

“You know, your accent is so funny, I love it. Like the way you pronounce some words? Hilarious”.

“Thanks, I guess?”

I cringed a little thinking about this specific moment. If he knew the only reason I was making a fool out of myself in front of him was his magnificent appearance, he would take it as a compliment. He probably already knew that was the reason. How could he not know? It’s not like he has never looked in a mirror. Also, there is no way, I am the first person that had to suffer from his magnetic self. By now he should know what his whole existence is doing to people.

And I got a boyfriend, he's older than us He's in the club doing, I don't know what You're so cool, it makes me hate you so much (I hate you so much)

“Shouldn’t your boyfriend be here as well?” the beautiful Italian boy asked.

“My wha- Oh you mean Andre? He isn’t my boyfriend. The media just made that up after we went out once, and I was caught at two of his games. We haven't talked in months. He’s probably at some club right now, annoying some poor girl.”

At that moment I thought I’ve seen a small smile appear on his face. He then just turned to the bar tender, ordering another beer. God, how could he just keep his cool like this the whole night. Usually it was the other way around. People would stand drunk in front of me trying to make a move, while I just stood there unimpressed. He really made me feel like an insecure fourteen-year-old girl again, and I hated him for that

Whisky on ice, Sunset and Vine You've ruined my life, by not being mine

“The sunset is really beautiful today” Damiano stated sipping on his glass of Whisky. I nodded in agreement while I ate a grape from the vine that was placed on the bar counter.

The bar were at was on top of a small mountain somewhere outside Rome. From there we had a great view over the whole city of Rome and how the sun met the city's skyline. It really was beautiful, still it was nothing compared to him. I wish he would’ve been mine, so I could’ve rested my head on his shoulder right there and then, but he wasn’t.

You should take it as a compliment That I'm talking to everyone here but you (but you, but you)

“I’m glad we’re finally getting a chance to talk after you talked to, well, everyone else at this bar except me.”, the handsome man called me out while he sat down next to me.”

Feeling a bit caught, I just gave him an awkward smile. I tried to come up  with a reasonable excuse, that was less embarrassing than ‘Yeah sorry about that, I was just too scared to talk to you because you look like you’re straight out of my dreams.’

“I’m really sorry about that! It was just that every time I was done talking to someone, the next person already stood behind me wanting to talk.” I lied.

“It’s alright. I guess that's what happens when you’re a world-famous singer.”

And you should think about the consequence Of you touching my hand in the darkened room

It was now 11pm and the sky outside was completely dark. The lights in the bar were also dimmed a bit, creating a cozy atmosphere. Damiano and I were in the middle of our conversation, as he accidentally grabbed my hand, that was resting on the bar counter, instead of his drink. It felt like an electric shock. An electric shock that woke up the butterflies inside my body. My hand started to tingle, and I’m pretty I was full on blushing now.

If you've got a girlfriend, I'm jealous of her But if you're single that's honestly worse 'Cause you're so gorgeous it actually hurts

“So do you have a girlfriend?”,  at this point I was so drunk I didn’t even care how this question came across anymore.

I was pretty sure he in fact had a girlfriend, I mean how could he not looking like this?

“No I don’t.” Thank god. “It’s kinda hard building up a real relationship with someone when you're always busy, but I guess you can tell me a thing or two about it too.”

Oh, yes, I could. Still I would drop everything I was doing right now,  just to be with him.

Chocolate brown eyes looking in mine I feel like I might sink and drown and die

Just as my confidence made a small comeback, I made the mistake to directly look into Damianos beautiful brown eyes. There really wasn’t a single thing about him that wasn’t extremely beautiful. I started to feel a bit dizzy as a wave of heat rushed through my body. What is this man doing to me?

Just thinking about it again made my heart beat three times faster.

You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have You are so gorgeous it makes me so mad You make me so happy, it turns back to sad, yeah There's nothing I hate more than what I can't have

For like the million time this evening, he made a laugh. Great, so he wasn’t just incredibly handsome, but also extremely funny. I didn’t realize how happy I was in his presence until I remembered he wasn’t mine. Suddenly I felt kind of sad, thinking about how I maybe would never see him again after tonight. I just wanted to grab his hand and run away with him. Somewhere I could be alone with him. Somewhere he would be only mine.

Guess I'll just stumble on home to my cats Alone, unless you wanna come along

I looked at the clock that was hanging on the wall behind the bar tender. I was shocked when I realized it was already midnight. There was no way we’ve been talking for like three hours now. I scanned the room for my friends, I went here with in the first place.

“Looking for someone specific?” Damiano asked, now also looking in the direction I was looking in.

“Just my friends, but it seems like they already went home. I’ll check if they texted me” I picked up my phone, checking if I had a message from my friends.

‘Hi babe, we already went home, we were kinda tired. Have fun talking to handsome stranger. You better tell us everything tomorrow ;)’

“Did they text you?”

“Yes, my friend texted me that they already went home. Guess I’ll have to go home alone then. At least my cats are waiting for me.” I stood up and tried to make my way over to the wardrobe to get my coat. Unfortunately I forgot how drunk I actually and almost tripped as I tried to walk. Alcohol and heels really are not a good combo. Thankfully Damiano grabbed my arm helping me to stabilize myself.

“You’re sure, you’ll make it home alone?”

“Yes, I am a big girl. Unless you wanna come along.” I said with a cheeky grin on my face.

Damiano left out a soft chuckle. He paid for our drinks and then accompanied me on my way back home.

“It’s already pretty late, if you want to, you can stay over.” I told him after he brought me up to my bedroom.

“That would be nice, thanks.”

After I got myself ready for bed, I basically fell into my cozy bed, cuddling myself up in my soft sheet.

“You mind telling me where your guestroom is before falling asleep?” the Italian boy asked with an amused look on his face.

“Mmh, I don’t know. Just sleep here, it's fine.” I answered him, already half asleep.

After that, I probably fell asleep, since I don’t remember anything else that happened.

You're so gorgeous I can't say anything to your face (to your face) 'Cause look at your face

“Good morning.” I heard a raspy voice say.

I looked up from my notebook and came face to face with Damiano gorgeous figure. His hair was messy, and he still looked a bit sleepy. Since he just wore a pair of boxer shorts, I could finally see all the tattoos that covered his upper body. All of a sudden I felt the same way as I did last night when I saw him for the first time. The words were stuck in my throat and I felt the anxiety build up in my body. How does he manage to make me feel this way by just existing?

“Good morning. Did you sleep well?” I somehow managed to say.

“Yes I did thank you. What are you doing?” he asked me curiously as he sat down on the garden chair next to me.

“I’m just writing a song. The idea came to mind when I woke up.”

“Not gonna lie, it’s pretty impressive that you’re able to write a song now after you could barely walk yesterday.” a small laugh left his mouth. “Can I see it?”

“No, it’s kinda awful. I’m to hungover to write something good now. I just wanted to write the idea down.” I lied,  I actually really liked the stuff I wrote so far, but he would probably think I’m a freak when he found out I wrote a song about after knowing him for a day.

“Can you at least tell me what it is about?”

“So you can steal my brilliant idea? No, thanks.” we both started laughing. “I can offer you breakfast though”

“I’m fine with that too” he said flashing me his beautiful smile

And I'm so furious At you for making me feel this way But what can I say? You're gorgeous

We were now sitting on my roof garden eating breakfast. Damiano told me some things about his life and what interests he had. As he did, so I looked at him in awe. I really started crushing on him as he continued to talked about his last tour with a huge smile on his face. I hated it that I was practically on my knees for him already, but how could I not? He’s perfect.

“I could really get used to this, you know?” he said out of nowhere.

“Me too.” I responded, not really questioning what he meant.

I also didn’t care as long as it involved us spending time together. I would make him mine no matter what.

[violettelueur]

RYŌMEN SUKUNA || BONDED FOREVER

| featuring : ryōmen sukuna ft. itadori yuji and fushiguro megumi from jujutsu kaisen

| warnings : grammar errors and some graphic/violent actions

| form : imagine 

| word count : 1749

| published : 03 december

| request : Can I a request a imagine where it’s super fluffy for Sukuna? I was wondering it can have a story of how he had a wife and she had reincarnated into someone who’s a powerful sorcerer? But she’s the soulmate for Sukuna..does this make sense at all? I hope you know what I mean😭😭

| barista’s notes : hey hey hey guys~ sorry for the really sort upfates, i’ve been having som difficulties writing some of these imagines due to a lack of ideas and writer’s block ʕ ᵒ ᴥ ᵒʔ but i hope you all had a good day today ʕ≧ᴥ≦ʔ but for me, other than coming home at around 5pm in the dark winter night, i had a decent day ʕ – ᴥ – ʔ also i don't think i answered this request properly, so i really do apologies ʕ ꈍᴥꈍʔ other than that, i hope you enjoy you cup of classic black coffee (jujutsu kaisen request!) and please come back soon!

The sweet aroma invaded your sense of smell, as you blissfully admired the array of flower petals that surround you in the warm water that you were sitting in right now. Gently, you glided your hand across the water, watching the petals also softly move with the direction of the current causing some of them to stick to your hand like a tattoo. However, before you could even move your hand again to keep you somewhat entertained, you felt an unexpectanted grip on your wrist, only for the same hand to be pulled up as the person behind you placed a kiss within your inner palm causing you to turn around to see what your husband was intending to do.

The man behind you, who still has his lips on your palm, opened his eyes to showcase his charming scarlet eyes as he looked down upon you only for him to smile softly at you - a rare smile that he only reserved for you and you only. Smiling softly back to him, you took the opportunity to caress his cheek as you admired the black markings that were permanently painting on his skin.

To him, at this current moment in time, you were at your most beautiful state as the water glistened beautifully on your bare skin with some of the petals stuck on to you, making you look like a painting made by the greatest artist with your hair stuck upon your neck due to it being soaked with the water that you and him were in right now.

“What’s going on in that little mind of yours?” Sukuna quietly asked as he leaned forward to place a heavy kiss upon your lips, leaving you no room to answer his question as you were so concentrated on the euphoric feeling to which then you felt his arms slowly wrap around your small figure, entrapping you in his embrace, leaving you no choice but to completely turn your body to face him as you then placed your leg on either side of him causing some of the water to overflow over the wooden bath, but that left no concern for you or the King of Curses.

“Nothing,” you answered him with a heavy breath once your both pulled apart, but still this little thought of yours was still plaguing your mind. “Don’t lie to me little one, you know better than not to lie to me ever,” Sukuna muttered, as his hand snaked from tracing your collarbone to having a light hold on your neck. However, it wasn’t the usual hold he would have against his opponent where his grip would tighten to disturb the airflow leading to the suffocation the unfortunate victim but rather a comforting gesture as his thumb moved up and down, expressing to you that you were able to open up to him about anything that was troubling your mind.

“When I pass, I came to the realisation that it won’t bother you at all,” you admitted to him with a soft smile, as you run your hand through his dampened hair. Although, the curse himself, exhibited the opposite reaction to what you were expressing right now making him wonder what caused you to question your importance to him. 

“Little one, when you state that absurd comment, it does nothing but infuriate me,” Sukuna voiced out to you as he leaned forward towards you - to the point where you were chest to chest - before leaving a few kisses upon your jawline. “When you pass, I will have no idea how to control myself. I may be sadistic in nature but you have calmed me down to extreme lengths that sometimes I am scared to admit. When you pass, I have nothing left to hold, no other person can take your place. Ever.” Sukuna expressed to you as he then leaned back to look at you in the eye, only to see your surprised express to his admission, “don’t ever, let that ridiculous idea come to plague your mind again Y/N, you are mine for eternity as I am yours, there is no escape from it, we are bonded forever,”.

“Forever ha?” you repeated him in a light breath, only for him to pull you into another heated kiss as his hands began to wonder around your body as if he was tracing everything to memory. Your body, your heart and your soul was entirely bonded to him as the same goes for him to you. As he said, there was no escape from it.

                                              ꕥ

“Sorry, but he’s not coming back” 

Stood frozen, you didn’t have the strength to look back on who was behind you nor did you want to lose sight of Fushiguro, knowing out of the both of you, he was in the most danger. 

“Don’t be so frightened, I’m in a good mood right now, since I get to physically see you again Y/N, so let’s chat for a bit” Sukuna cunningly commented, causing you to widen your eyes while the cold sweat behind your back began to intensify, fearful on what the King of Curses intended for you.

‘I need to quickly get Fushiguro to a safe place….but how? Damn it! How?’

However, before you could even move, the King of Curses decided that he would move for you to present himself to both of yours and Fushiguro’s view. “This is what he gets for trying to use me without any kind of pact, feels like he’s having some trouble switching back,” Sukuna stated as if he was explaining on why Itadori couldn’t gain control even after showcasing back in Sendai that he could.

“Still, though it’s a matter of time,” Sukuna continued to talk as he casually ripped off the top of Itadori’s uniform, showcasing the black markings on his body. On the other hand, what happened next caused you and Fushiguro to widen your eyes in terror as Sukuna suddenly viciously stabbed himself in the chest with his hand before slowly taking out the beating heart that was inhibiting Itadori’s body.

“I’m taking this brat hostage”

Finally having the guts to move your body, using the extremely little gap of time you had, you swiftly grabbed onto Fushiguro’s sleeve before speedily using your curse energy to form a protective sphere around his body leaving you alone in the open to any attacks the special grade curse could use on you now.

“Y/N!” Fushiguro shouted while beginning to violently bang his arms on the orb that you had manifested around him, trying to obtain a crack or a weak spot to let him out. “What are you doing you, idiot?!” Fushiguro then questioned you in a state of panic, trying to gain some understanding of what you were planning. However, you didn’t answer.

“Your goodwill stayed with you even after 1000 years, there’s nothing more than I expected from my little one, though I am frustrated at the fact that it isn’t reserved for me” 

Still somewhat fearful but now confused, you quickly used your curse energy to construct a black katana out of thin air, before raising up to point the tip to Sukuna’s neck. “Oh?” Sukuna expressed before smiling at you with such pride expressed on his face, “it’s been such a long time since you have threatened me like that Y/N, you were powerful in words back then but now you gained powers of a sorcerer, what a magnificent discovery,”.

‘What can I do? I have a limit of summoning 20 weapons at the same time but is that even enough to even get a single scratch on him?’ 

“Do you not remember me? Little one, you look as beautiful as you did that night, your hair wet from the rain and your skin still beautiful glistens then the water hits your face” Sukuna playfully commented, as he took a step closer to you causing you to take one step back.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” you finally spoke to the man in front of you, only for him to smirk even wider. However, before he could even get another single word in, you immediately summoned another 19 weapons - maximizing your limit -  from spear, swords and axes behind him, only for all of then to immediately come down with a powerful strike causing a large explosion to erupt as dust from the ground suddenly flared up, blinded your view as well as Fushiguro’s causing his anxiety to heighten on what was going on and where you were.

“You always somehow impressed me, little one. There is never a day where I am disappointed,” a deep voice commented, causing you to widen your eyes once you saw Sukuna standing right in front of you with an uncharacteristic soft smile on his face - leaving you in an extreme state of confusion once a blurred image of a man smiling at you slowly constructed in your mind.

“Why?” you question yourself in a perplexed tone.

‘How?’

“Why do I suddenly feel like I've seen you smile at me like that before?” you quietly questioned, still engulfed in the dusty smoke that was surrounding the both of you. Slowly and gently gripping on to the wrist on your other hand, Sukuna slowly raised it up before placing a small kiss within the palm of your hands causing an almost unnoticeable tiny electric current to travel up your arm to the kissed palm - as if it was something that your body suddenly remembered.

“We are bonded forever, remember that little one” Sukuna declared to you in a softer tone than he had expressed earlier before the black markings slowly started to fade indicating to you that Itadori was steadily coming back, causing you to drop your katana and open your arms once you felt his heavy body fall upon yours.

“Itadori?” you quietly called, still hoping that he was alive somehow even without the use of the vital organ that was now out of his body.

“Y/N?” Itadori called out to you just in time as the dust around you began to fade, “I’m almost done for, but I guess I don’t have to worry you, Fushiguro, Kugisaki and Gojo-sensei anymore, live a long life,”, but before you could even get a single sound in to tell him that he was going to be okay, you felt his body slowly go limp indicating to you that he was now gone.

“Bonded forever?”

[realcube]

The Maid Café || Saiki K x Reader

summary: nendou and kaidou keep pestering saiki to visit their favourite maid café but he shuts them down every time. however, after a bit of prying they manage to convince him to give the place a try and while they are there, you just so happen to be on shift. 

tw// cussing, maid café, (she/her) reader

key:

“non italicised text” = somebody besides Saiki speaking

“italicised text” = Saiki telepathically communicating

‘italised text’ = Saiki’s thought

‘Of course Nendou and Kaidou would be into maid cafés of all things — not cat cafés, not internet cafés — it just had to be maid cafés.’  

Saiki’s internal monologue began as Kaidou continued gushing on about the cute lady he met at the café a few days ago as an argument to why Saiki should join them next time they go. Not to say Saiki wasn’t listening as he felt extremely sorry for whatever lady had to tolerate Kaidou’s advances and his prayer went out to her but besides that, he really couldn’t care less about the maids or the café. 

Until, his attention was involuntarily aroused at the vocalisation of his name from Nendou, “Saiki’s definitely in for Friday, I’m pretty sure I sold him when I told him that the sandwiches there are almost as good as the ramen we usually get.”

‘No, you didn’t. I won’t be coming to join you on Friday. I’d much rather stay--’ 

Somehow Kaidou managed to cut off Saiki’s internal monologue with his annoying voice, “Don’t be silly, Nendou. You’re not going to win Saiki over with such a ridiculous comparison, one that he clearly doesn’t care about.” 

‘Am I delusional? Is this a hallucination? Or did Kaidou just say something logical and based in reality?’

Kaidou’s aura immediately changed to dark and sinister as a mischievous smirk crossed his face, the background squawks of the crows suddenly became much louder for some unknown reason. “Instead, you must locate your opponent's weak point before you can recognise the crucially important moment to exploit it. The process takes patience but it is one I have learned from my many years rebelling against Dark Reunion. Now, young Nendou, watch and learn.” He finished with a dramatic flip of his school jacket which was slung over his shoulders as a cape.

‘What was all that about?’

Saiki wondered before Kaidou turned to him, much less brooding than he was a few seconds ago, and said casually, “Your loss if you don’t come, Saiki — you’ll be the one missing out on some of the best desserts in our whole town — not to mention the coffee jelly.”

✿✿✿✿✿

‘How do I always end up losing to these people? I am a psychic for god’s sake!’

Saiki mentally cursed himself out as he stood shamefully in front of the maid café, wearing a carefully curated outfit — including his germanium ring  — created especially to hide his identity from anyone from his school that might pass by the café and spot him in there through the window or something. Honestly, he wouldn’t be caught dead in a maid café, or so he thought.

However, all the reviews he read along with both Nendou and Kaidou’s thoughts helped him conclude that this place’s coffee jelly and general dessert selection is nothing to sneeze at. In fact, his favourite Tumblr blog - DeadlyDesserts11037 - visited the place and gave it a 5 star review, recommending everybody who happens to pass by the town to definitely check the place out. After that, he was sold.

Saiki looked over at his friends and couldn’t help but facepalm in response to their bright red, thrilled expressions. “Good grief, please don’t tell me you are both that excited over ladies in maid outfits.” As you might’ve guessed, Saiki didn’t really understand the concept of a ‘maid café’, so he simply assumed the male obsession with maids had something to do with the objectification of women hence he obviously did not want to take part.

“Saiki, you’re seriously just built different if this doesn’t touch your soul.” They both brushed the pink-haired boy’s comment off, completely mesmerised by the sight of a particularly pretty maid-lady walking by the window — probably on her way to serve a table — carrying a notepad in one hand and a plate with a scrumptious-looking coffee jelly on top. 

Saiki followed their gaze, his breath hitching at the sight. He was speechless; no sarcastic comment, no running commentary, nothing. Just..woah! If he had known that the girls that work at this place were so gorgeous and the food looked so delicious, he would’ve came a long time ago.

He wasn’t even sure which one he wanted more; the girl or the jelly. In a way, one wasn’t complete without the other because the coffee jelly which she held high next to her head brought out her (E/C) eyes while her shapely figure highlighted the defined curves of the jelly. Drool was quick to start forming at the corners of his lips but he was even quicker to wipe it away; he was starving.

“We’re going in.”

✿✿✿✿✿

To Saiki’s dismay, it was not the stunning (H/C)-haired girl who he had caught a glimpse of through the glass that ushered them to their table. Rather, it was a slightly less gorgeous maid-lady who had long, bright purple hair which was clearly a wig. 

Fortunately for him, after she left Kadiou, Nendou and himself to take their seats, she rushed off saying that someone will come take their orders whenever they are ready.

Even with his psychic abilities, there wasn’t much he could think of to alter fate so the pretty coffee-jelly lady would end up serving their table, and besides that, he was way too caught up in gawking at all the mouth-watering desserts they had pictured on the menu. 

Simply glancing over the menu brought a stupid grin to his face, he wanted to try every delectable treat presented in front of him. However, he knew he must exhibit restraint, which was fairly simple as he knew deep down there was only one thing on the menu that he was truly after. You guessed it  — coffee jelly.

Usually, he couldn’t care less about what his friends comrades were going to order but in this case, he was tempted to try convince both Kaidou and Nendou to order something he liked so he could take a bite of whatever they were having, “What are you two going to order?”

Yet again though, he was ignored as Nendou and Kaidou were both too busy checking out other types of snacks to care about the ones on the menu. 

Then, a movement out of the corner of his eyes caught his attention so his head jolted from the menu to his new target, the beautiful girl he had saw through the window earlier. Previously, she was holding a coffee jelly but now she was basically empty handed, until she approached the table and pulled out a notepad and pen, “May I take your orders?” She asked in the most calming, melodious voice Saiki had ever heard, the sounds that left her mouth were nothing short of angelic. Which made sense since her serving their table must’ve been god’s gift to Saiki for all his hard work.

Chills, Saiki got literal chills before he mused, “A coffee jelly, and two brownies for the pair of clowns.” His blood ran cold; curse his smooth sarcastic comments! Most of the time, he was able to filter himself but due to the nerves that arose while talking to you, he probably shouldn’t be surprised that he had a little slip of the tongue. But now, you probably think he is a bitch that insults people on the regular; which he is, but not usually aloud! Plus, he couldn’t even tell what you were thinking due to his germanium ring and your distant expression, awful combo!

While he was in the middle of feeling bad for himself and considering teleporting away home, a miracle happened, you burst out laughing. And somehow, your laughter was even more silvery than your voice. 

Saiki had zoned-out from pure shock for a moment before coming back to reality, noticing that you had started jotting down something in your notepad, a sweet smile still lingering on your face despite the fact you had stopped laughing. “Alright, so one coffee jelly and two brownies. Anything else?” You asked, glancing back and forth between the three equally unique and strange men sitting at the table. 

“That’ll be all, thank you.” Saiki telepathically communicated as he usually did, considering actually using his mouth to speak for a change so he didn’t seem weird but in all honesty, he couldn’t be bothered. In any other situation, he would’ve gotten a drink of water or perhaps hot cocoa but right now he was way too afraid of making another error in his speech to request something else. 

Silently, he extended his arm to hand you the menu he was given when he entered the café, along with the ones Kaidou and Nendou were given too. His actions single-handedly shooting down your plan of leaning across the table to ‘take the menus’ but in reality it is just a subtle way of showing-off how nice your torso looked in this maid outfit, a trick you learned from your supervisor. 

You nodded, closing over your notepad and making your way over to the kitchen, being sure to swing your hips just a little bit extra to impress the pink-haired megane at the table you just took an order from. You mentally cursed your stupid brain though for always crushing on guys/gals who don’t seem the least bit interested in you. In this case, the guy’s attention was divided between his star-struck friends and the desserts on the menu, rather than you which was an unusual sight in a maid café considering that most people would only come to ogle at the waitresses. 

✿✿✿✿✿

“So, Saiki.” Kaidou finally landed back into reality after a large chunk of the waitresses roaming around were now in the kitchen which he didn’t have viewing access to, “What did you order us?”

‘So, he was fully aware that the waitress came to take his order, he just chose to ignore her and left me to order his food. What a child, it must be a side-effect of his eighth grade syndrome.’

Saiki couldn’t help but sigh, “I ordered you both brownies.”

Kaidou stuck out his bottom lip to form a pout as he crossed his arm over his chest like a toddler, “I hate brownies.” He muttered to himself, realising that if he wanted something done right, he’d have to do it himself.

An amused smirk tugged at Saiki’s lips but he resisted the urge to laugh, ‘I know.’ He thought, his masterplan to eat more food without looking greedy falling into place. “Oh well, more for me then.”

Suddenly, Nendou spun his head around to abruptly join the conversation, “Hey guys, did you see the hottie that was serving our table?” He inquired with starry eyes, as if he was a kid in a candy store.

Saiki nodded, ‘Obviously I did, you moron. I was the one who ordered the food for goodness’ sake!’

Kaidou shook his head, his eyes lighting up as he leaned in close to Nendou, “Nope! I was busy looking at the other girls, but tell us!” 

Nendou chuckled at Kaidou’s enthusiastic reaction before glancing to the side, outstretching his arm and pointing at the waitress that was now approaching the table with the food in her hands. “There she is!”

‘Don’t point at her, you idiot!’ Saiki mentally insulted his friend but instinctively followed the guidance of the tip of his finger until his eyes landed on your shapely figure — accentuated by the nature of the maid outfit  — slowly heading toward his table, holding the coffee jelly and the plate of brownies in the same graceful way you did when he saw you through the window. 

The gleam of your gorgeous hair, the movement of your luscious lashes, the gentle bounce of your upper body, how your perfectly manicured nails clutched the base of the jelly glass; everything about what he was seeing made him believe that if/when he were to die, this would be his ideal first sight as he passed through the gates of heaven. 

Before he knew it, you had reached the table and placed his jelly down on the table, gently nudging it towards him, “One coffee jelly for the cute boy with antennas.” You mused, making Saiki’s heart flutter in a way he was unfamiliar with. Then, you placed the brownies in front of Kaidou and Nednou who sat opposite from Saiki, “And two brownies for the clowns.” 

If it wasn’t for the fact the pair of clowns were too busy leching over you in your maid outfit, they’d probably be curious as to your choice of words but luckily for both you and Saiki, they were way to entranced by your visible bra strap to care about the little nickname.

Saiki felt a light blush creep onto his face, which only got worse as you discretely sent him a playful wink before turning on your heels to stroll back to the kitchen, “If you need anything else, just give me a wave.” 

All of them hummed agreement in unison until the waitress was out of sight, giving Saiki a moment to process the events that had just went down. Not only did you refer to him as ‘the cute boy with antennas’ but you also winked at him, if that wasn’t a clear sign you were interested, what was? However, Saiki still had his doubts since this was a maid café after all, perhaps you were just trained to do that with all your customers.

Luckily, the had the foresight to slip off his germanium ring to read your mind and that helped him come to the conclusion that you were either interested in him or you were just very competitive as the whole time you were serving the table your thoughts were along the lines of;

‘I’ll adjust my skirt- Ha! You looked! Try resist falling for me now, you hot lil’ megane! Your heart is mine and I know it! See, I’ll fidget with my corset too-- just make a move already, pinkie!’

Although he didn’t appreciate being called ‘pinkie’, he had no right to judge what was going on in your brain. All he could do is be thankful that you didn’t say that aloud.

✿✿✿✿✿

You sighed as you noticed the pink-haired boy and his little posy exit the establishment without so much as a goodbye, or even a wave! 

It was disappointing as you had already mentally planned your future with this guy and he had the audacity to do the real life equivalent of leaving you on read. But oh well, it would be approximately a week until you developed a crush on a random customer that lasts for around 30 minutes and for the time being, you can focus on doing your job.

You glumly shuffled over to their table to gather their plates to be washed, then a piece of colourful paper attached to the empty jelly glass caught your eye. As you held up the glass to inspect it further, you realised that it was a sticky note with a message written on it in black ink and neat, cursive handwriting. It read:

‘Dearest waitress,

Thank you for the excellent service, we (myself) tipped accordingly.’

You hadn’t finished reading yet but you were curious as to what he meant by that, and apparently you service must’ve been exceptional as the writer had left a whole ¥2000 tip. That’s a huge addition to the demonia fund.  

Followed by this charming little message was an extra tip for you; the writer’s phone number! Meaning that this little sticky note was something you had to protect with your life..so you shoved it in your bra for safe-keeping. 

But not before taking a moment to giggle with delight at who the note was signed by, 

‘Sincerely, the hot lil’ megane (aka Kusuo Saiki)’ 

[writingtoforgetreality]

Springing Forward (Helmut Zemo x Reader)

Request: hey there cathy! i’m a new follower and i was wondering if i might request a zemo x reader where it’s maybe pre ultron and reader’s family own a flower shop in sokovia and somehow through that they meet? idk i know it’s super random but i’ve got spring fever 😂 (by @msmarvelsmain), [Marvel-Masterlist]

Summary: Your family owned a little flower shop. You assisted every now & then. One day, your parents had departed for a while, a man entered the store & changed your life forever.

Words: 3,255

Warnings: fluff, soft!Zemo, it is so sweet, I promise, pretty sure I didn't use any pronouns :), no TFATWS spoilers (you’re welcome), (Y/F/F) = your favorite flowers, REQUESTS ARE OPEN!

If you like my work & wanna support me: a coffee would be highly appreciated ❤

Spring was your favorite season of the year. Flowers started blossoming. Nature turned colorful again. Lush hues decorated the outsides. Your family owned a petite shop in the central of downtown in Sokovia. The store was your whole pride & joy. The façade was stacked with uneven, light grey cobblestones. The sign on top of the glass door was illuminated with a warm & congenial light. While you did not have that many guests, your regular customers supported you continuously. Helping out your parents had never bothered you. It was a family business. Your assistance was appreciated & the local citizens enjoyed whenever you served them.

Plants & flowers were your hobby. Somehow, they grew when you tended to them. You managed to flourish almost dead ones. That was one of your skills. Your handling with the people who visited your shop left a good impression. The earnings were not a fortune but you made do. The smiles of your pleased customers were enough to balance that out. Not even once had you been bad-tempered. If something bothered you, then you suppressed that negativity for the sake of your reputation. After all, it never had anything to do with the shop itself.

The mornings were your favorites. When the rest of the town was still fast asleep & the birds slowly awakened with rhythmical chirps. The slight breeze that touched your skin tenderly. The goosebumps erupting where your clothes did not cover you. Yet, you abandoned the thought of pulling over a jacket. As the hours ticked by, the sun would amplify, leaving you content with your tenuous t-shirt. Your parents had left town for relaxation. The shop would be solely yours for the upcoming days. Your little apartment was not far away from your workplace. The short walks back & forth were forever welcomed. During your lunch break, if your job & the weather allowed you that, you wandered through the narrow backstreets. Every corner was familiar but the small details that frequently transformed always fascinated you anew.

Years ago, you loathed leaving the country you were born in to start a new life here in Sokovia. Your parents were incomprehensibly overstrained with your whim that seemed to worsen daily. Friends were abandoned in the process of moving. The beginning in a foreign area was strenuous. Not only did it take a toll on you but on your parents as well. The loan enabled your family’s dream of owning their own shop. Independence was an indescribable feeling. Ever since, your fondness of this place had been increasing steadily. And while you would not exactly say that you had friends here, you definitely made a few acquaintances. Friendships would follow sooner or later. Besides, your work consumed almost all of your time. You lived to work & you worked to live. It was as simple as that. Your lifestyle functioned like that. It was exhausting, sometimes excessive, but you handled it just fine. Still, every now & then, you found yourself craving something. What that particular something was had yet to be discovered.

The delightful ringing of the bell whenever someone entered your shop reached your ears. It was early in the morning. Usually, the first costumers rolled in closer to lunch time. Not that you were complaining. Your body spun around, your apron getting stuck on an infinitesimal bump standing out of your oak wooden counter. Silent curses left your lips, too quiet for the stranger to hear. The struggles were noticeable & a presence approached you. You had yet to glance at the person but your delicate hands were busy with fiddling the fabric.

“May I?” a soft, accented voice spoke up & startled you slightly. Your eyes flickered up & locked with warm, chocolate brown ones. For a few moments, time stopped. Your heartbeat sped up. Something about this simple interaction let sparks burst. And when his lips turned into a gentle smile, you were gone for. Never before had something similar occurred. Especially not that quickly. It was obvious that you were staring a little too intensively. But his eyes did not leave yours, lingering just for a fraction longer. He had asked you a question. As an owner, you completely failed your task. You neither welcomed him in nor did you engage in a conversation. Coughing to hide the embarrassment, you averted your gaze & began.

“Welcome. Um, I’d really appreciate your help, thank you.” your voice wavered but it did not crack. His hands, covered by leather gloves, stretched out & he initiated the process of freeing you. The thick material that hid his fingers was offbeat. Average people tended to avoid gloves during this season. It was warm enough without them. Then again, this stranger did not strike you as average. This brief meeting was proof enough.

“There you go.” he commented after successfully liberating you. “As good as new.” he radiated a feeling that made you believe he was a well-spoken man. You were unsure how exactly you ended up with that conclusion.

“Thank you.” both of your hands reached to the hem of your apron, glancing down at it, checking for possible damages. But, as he alleged, it was perfectly fine. Another moment of silence went by, then you slowly returned to reality. You occupied your according place behind the counter. Back straightened & regained composure. “Apologies for my unprofessional behavior. I will ensure you a discount for your purchase. Right…what did you need?” your rambling was mortifying. Hiding your emotions was not necessarily one of your skilled characteristics.

“Please, do not bother with special treatments.” one of his hands raised in front of his chest, signaling that he was being serious. It did not change that, deep down, you felt poorly. “I was actually looking for…” a chuckle interrupted his speech. “I am uncultured regarding this area, truthfully. If you offer me your assistance now then the two of us are even.” the following wink made you all giddy. What was it about him?

“Okay, well…” your previous painstakingness was pushed down. “What is the occasion?” it was always surprising to gain new customers. His accent betrayed him a little. And what a sweet betrayal it was.

“A decisive meeting with a higher up. An efficient first impression would be convenient.” he enlightened you, choosing his words carefully. Well-spoken he was but that was manifested from the very beginning.

“Any preferred colors, types?” one of your eyebrows perked up. Moving your body around the counter & in the middle of the modest shop, you reacted unwillingly after brushing past his frame. Your shoulder barely grazing but enough to trigger uneven breaths.

“How does a common purchase for such an event look like?” you peered over your shoulder, a bit of amusement written over your features. While he appeared like a literate man, ten times wiser than you, this was a field you surpassed with ease. A quick glimpse on your forearm, where a barely functioning watch swathed your wrist caressingly, confirmed your previous assumption. There was still a load of time left until the shop’s actual occupation. You could bestow him your aggregate attention. The unnamed stranger absorbed your every word of your explanation. Your eyes sparkled with a newly witnessed enthusiasm. The fact that he did not heckle your talk during the entirety of your tour through the shop brought you desired satisfaction. He was the first person to display genuine interest in your employment.

“God, please excuse me trailing off. I did not intend to bore you.” all of a sudden, your energetic self switched to an insecure one.

“I can assure you that you did not bore me. Not for one second.” his affirming smile calmed your incertitude. Together, the two of you picked up various individual flowers. A compiled bouquet would portray him in the best light. Your hands moved on their own. You could still hold a conversation with the man on the other end of the wooden table. It separated the back of the shop from the front, main area. His fascination for you expanded by every further move you performed. Lastly, you wrapped the ends of the stems with a fine, almost sheer paper. To secure everything & hold it in place, you braided a ribbon that matched the color of the textile.

“All done.” you showcased the finished product to him, a small, gratified smile adorning your face. “What do you think?” the question was almost shy, it needed reassurance. Which made him ponder why you were so doubtful of yourself & your abilities. To him, you prepared the most gorgeous bouquet he had ever caught a sight of.

“Plainly astonishing.” his praise warmed you from deep within. “You really do have an unbelievable talent.” you thanked him quietly, eyes flickering down to avoid his intense stare. By no means was it displeasing or inadvertent. It was sweet & thoughtful. You wanted to extend his stay, fearing that this would be a one-time interaction. But you could not remain on this high you were currently experiencing. The sound of the entrance bell fetched you back to the present. Another customer that needed attendance. Your togetherness approached an undesirable end. Controlled fingers punched a well-rehearsed pattern into the cash register. The blue numbers flashed for the man in the coat to see. Gloves & a fur-coat during spring? He was the only living soul you had ever met that made it work.

A wallet was pulled out of his pocket. Fine fingers retrieved the money. A beat went by. Two. Almost like he wanted to savor the little time you two had left. But your duties called. He would not use up any more of your duration. Maybe he had already overstepped & his appearance was no longer welcomed or appropriate. The notes were handed over. Your movements like a slow motion scene in your favorite movie. The scenery grasping your every bit of attentiveness. It was something you wanted to remember. To think back & hope to perceive that same feeling you experienced during the first time. You reached for it. The moment his clothed hand touched your smooth skin stilled the world once again. The gentle brush of his thumb over the back of your hand could have been missed if it was not for your body to be this alerted.

“Thank you for your exceedingly helpful guidance, …?” his eyes looked up at you sheepishly. You knew what he was intending. It was a silent question for your name. And you were more than eager to comply.

“(Y/N).” it was short, adequate. His smirk held a deeper meaning. What it was exactly, you could not identify.

“Why, thank you, (Y/N).” his emphasis was on your name. The way it rolled from his tongue was mesmerizing. You found yourself craving to hear that sound constantly. But you were not even sure if it was naïve to hope for his return. He would exit any second. Leaving behind a pit only he could fill. Your train of thought converted into utter despair. He was your customer. Nothing more. Nothing less.

“You never told me your name.” you called out when he was almost out of the door. One last time, he glanced over his shoulder. The fur tickling his chin a bit. One last time, you studied the way his lips lifted. One last time, you believed.

“Helmut.” he replied. “It was nice meeting you.” his hand pushed the door open. His body moved through the doorway. As fast as he entered your life, he left just as quickly.

“You too.” you whispered but he was no longer here to listen to your words. Your face fell, the previous spark in your eyes completely gone. The person in front of you waited until you paid all of your attention to them. It took a lot of effort but you managed in the end. The only difference was that they were not him. Nobody would ever be him again. But he vanished. Like dust in the wind, blowing away his remaining scent that had filled your nostrils.

Was it possible to crave a person you barely knew? Your subconscious sprinkled salt in your wound. Brains could be ridiculous. Nonsense. The teasing of your dreams, in the dark of the calm night, was echoing. Ricocheting off the walls that kept your emotions buried inside. Similar to being the main character in a horror film, desperately looking for a way out but being trapped no matter what. Why were you reacting like that? Why did Helmut waltz into your shop without any restrictions, turning your entire life, your entire world, upside down? He was one mysterious man. Uncommon, remarkable. Someone who swept you off your feet by simply being. One charming smile & you were gone for. The first words he directed to you & he gained you wholly. The worst part of it all was that he had no idea what he did to you. He had no idea that your thoughts were solely revolving around him ever since his entrance to the store. His entrance to your heart. What was happening to you? You had to move on, that much was clear. Truth was, you abominated that thought. Your focus had to shift. Back to your work, back to your task.

The following day started off with a bad mood. Certainly, the upcoming hours would be draining. You could not allow the shop’s closure. Not even for a day. Your family’s existence depended on it. Everything was the same. Chirping birds, a cool breeze, a short walk. The peacefulness before customers visited. Yet, everything was not the same at all. Because there was this nagging feeling inside of you & you knew you could not get rid of it. The ringing sound caught you off guard. It was unusual. Only once had someone entered this early in the mornings. And this one time was yesterday. Your shock was visible. Helmut’s presence was unexpected but definitely not unsought.

“Helmut?” your voice was an octave higher. The excitement emitting from you.

“Good morning, (Y/N).” he strutted closer to you. The same gloves, the same coat. The same offbeat & arcane man.

“What brings you here today?” your head tilted, trying to find a possible explanation for his return. “Wait. Was the bouquet improper?” immediately, thousands of dark, negative thoughts were rushing through you. You did your very best with the flower’s arrangement. Never before had you spent this much time & effort.

“No, not at all.” one of his hands raised & rested on your shoulder, squeezing the tiniest bit. You had to take a deep breath in order to stay calm. As calm as it was possible with him around. “The exact opposite. Which is why I am here again. Could you assist me once more?”

“Of course. What were you envisioning? Who are the flowers for?” your elbows propped onto the countertop, gazing lovingly into his orange shining brown eyes.

“I meant to ask for your favorites. You strike me as one with fantastic taste.” Helmut certainly had a way with words. No matter what he said, you found yourself captivated by him. The topic could be dreary but he made it sound fascinating.

“My favorites? It’s tough to choose one when there are so many stunning options.” you quieted down for a few seconds to really contemplate your answer. It was flattering that he asked for your opinion. “If you make me pick then I’d say…hmm, probably (Y/F/F).”

“Perfect. I would like to purchase a bouquet then.” right away, you got to work. Helmut watched your skilled hands. His enthusiasm only died down when he saw the frown forming on your face. “What is it?”

“Huh?” you were in your thoughts. His question was almost missed by you.

“That frown. Where is it coming from?” only Helmut could be so straight forward about such a small detail he had noticed. Would you tell him the truth? You should not. He did not need to know that your mood turned sour because he bought more flowers. This time, he did not let you know about the purpose of them. Another dinner with a higher up? Highly unlikely. But not entirely impossible. You assumed he would gift them to a woman. Hence why you sidestepped his question masterly.

“I believe it happens when I’m focused on my task.” you hoped your smile was reassuring but Helmut saw right through you. In the end, he did not comment on it. There was a building tension between you two. This time around, there were no lingering touches. He left the shop once again & it was clear that this was it. Helmut would not come back again. And maybe it was for the better. Your heart was too fragile to be crushed by his bare hands. It was not fair to blame basically a stranger. He had a life you had no insight on. But the aching could not be ignored.

Just as you wanted to lock the door to your shop for your lunch break, a voice reached your ears, followed by hurried footsteps. Turning around to look for the cause of it, you were shocked for a second time today. It was Helmut. The same bouquet he had purchased earlier clasped in one of his hands. The other one balanced two cups of coffee. As much as you wanted to withhold your smile, it was inevitable to repress.

“(Y/N)!” he was slightly out of breath. “I expected you were gone already.”

“Good that your expectation was wrong.” the warmth that filled your body was endearing.

“Here.” he handed you the flowers & your eyebrows furrowed. “For you.” he explained further when you made no move to reach for them.

“Why?” you inquired but grabbed the bouquet from him anyway. His posture relaxed & the grip on the cups was more secure.

“May I invite you on a walk through the town?” he suggested shyly. “I brought you coffee. I do hope it is after your liking?” the last part was a question. A sign that he doubted himself the slightest.

“I’m sure it’ll be delightful.” you eased his mind immediately. The cup was placed in your other hand. “Could you wait here for a minute? I should put them in a vase.” he motioned for you to go ahead. Your heart was doing backflips. It all fell into place now. You pieced everything together. He asked for your favorite flowers earlier today because he intended to give them to you. His plan was to spend your lunch break together. Helmut really went out of his way for you. His efforts were mellow. Returning outside once again, he patiently stood in the same spot. The softness of his features were rare on a man like him. You had met people similar to him but he was different. Helmut was that type of many who bought you flowers & made time to spend more with you.

You knew the town by heart. So did Helmut. But exploring the beautiful spots together felt like you were espying every corner, every building, for the very first time. Conversation flowed easily. Laughter was shared, loving glances were exchanged. He gave you a feeling of belonging. Like you were supposed to be right here from the very beginning. It felt right. With a man like him on your side, your life quality would finally improve. Helmut would be the one to quench your cravings. And you would not want it any other way.

Published (05/04/2021) by Cathy

✨MY Ko-fi PAGE✨

Tags: @takacsgram, @hiddlestoner-cumberbitch, @bibliophilewednesday, @yallgotkik, @noavengers, @lieutenantn, @birdieofloxley, @aisling1985, @trelaney, @sebastian-stan-d-on-my-throat, @thewinterrbucky, @loveinthemadness, @princess-yuna (thanks for your support <3)

[seasonofthewicth]

nobody does it like you do - act 1

I'm finally back with some more rowaelin! I started this fic in november last year and wrote the first 10k in 24 hours, but from then on this fic was a struggle... Thank you so, so much to @morganofthewildfire for sharing so much of your time to help me with this, this fic would not be here without you 💗 I'm so happy to have finally finished it and can share it on here. I hope you enjoy

CW: past drug abuse, minor character death, violence

7.7k - masterlist - ao3

--

When her agent sends her the script it’s not the first time she’s heard of Rowan Whitethorn, his name is written at the top under the heading director, which itself is under the big red text reading confidential. He’s been at this stuff for a while now, directed a couple of movies that popped up on her radar but that nothing ever came of for her, and he’s well known in the business.

He was even nominated for an Oscar a couple of years ago, and she watched the ceremony with Lysandra, slapping the bills into her outstretched hand when he didn’t win.

His movie had been far too fucking raw for him to have won, she knew that, a tale about a group of kids who witnessed a murder and how it stayed with them and fucked them up into adulthood, but it had stuck with her nonetheless and she’d put her money on him anyway.

She reads the section of script Dorian has sent her, tucked up in bed with a glass of sparkling water and her most comfortable sweater, leaning back into the mountain of expensive pillows she had Elide buy for her and pondering how so much money could end up so uncomfortable, and she knows it’s something special.

She realises she wants this role, almost to an uncomfortable degree, when she’s about five lines in. The heroine is bratty and rash, but serious and pained in a way that makes her completely fleshed out and Aelin wants to play her, wants to be her and embody her in a way that takes her out of the pit she’s in.

She hopes this could be what gets her out of it.

Aedion had tried to pull her out, gods bless him, dropping by her apartment every morning for weeks to check up on her with a coffee in his hand, topped with cream and two sugars the way he knows she likes. Each morning he let himself in with her spare key, the one she gave to him the day she moved in, wanting him to be able to let himself in whenever he wanted but also knowing there was no one else she wanted to give it to.

She would have given it to Sam, would have given everything to Sam, but he’s gone and she’s left sitting here, wondering how to salvage what’s left of her reputation.

What reputation she had even managed to build after starring in one mediocre TV show and a handful of low-budget movies. She knows deep down, and in a way her brain likes to remind her of when she’s at her lowest, that the main reason she isn’t a complete nobody is because she’s Evalin Ashryver’s daughter. Her therapist tells her every time she bothers to go to a session that having a famous mother doesn’t mean she’s a failure and that she has to recognise each of her successes as her own. She nods along every time, but she doesn’t believe her. What has she managed to accomplish truly on her own?

It hasn’t been made public yet that Rowan Whitethorn is involved in the film, she only knows because Chaol wrote the whole script himself and texted her to let her know when he signed on to direct. She’s known Chaol since she was eighteen and took her first solo trip to Rifthold, drawn to the lights of the big city and the almost magnetic pull of the heart of the industry. He’d stumbled upon her in a club she was far too young to be in and had pulled her out, sending her home in a cab that he paid for. Looking back she was grateful for his attempt to avoid what she knew later was an inevitability.

She had cursed him when he told her she’d still have to audition, but she gets it. She hasn’t exactly behaved in a way recently that makes people want to take a chance on her.

Stumbling out of clubs, eyes as wide as saucers and high as a fucking kite isn’t the kind of star casting directors are desperate to hire, but she’s trying to be better. She’s promised those around her that she’ll be better, and she knows that the only reason she hasn’t ended up in rehab is that she has an incredible therapist and a highly persuasive manner of dealing with her friends and family. The only reason they’ve taken that chance on her is time, and she’s grateful for that mercy.

She turns the page, hitting the final line for the third time. Chaol’s script is so good she’s read the few pages she’s been sent over and over.

She only reads scripts in physical copies, takes the time to print them out using her shitty printer that belongs right back in 2008, and she knows it’s wasteful but she allows herself that small luxury of the crisp paper in her hand as she delves into each new world. Her character is in the middle of a teary monologue that she knows exactly how she’d do, the way she’d halt her breath and choke out the words-- it’s not her character. Yet.

The audition is next week, and she’ll work her ass off to make sure she’s ready. Her usual pre-audition ritual involves taking up far too much of Lysandra’s time to practice reading the lines and filming herself time after time, take after take, and watching it back in the unholy hours of night until she’s happy she’s made an improvement.

Or at least that’s how she used to do it, nothing has made her want a role like this in a long while. She worries as she bites her lip, that wanting something this much means she’s getting over Sam. That maybe one day she won’t think of him and hear the pounding in her ears, won’t feel the lightheadedness that comes with a memory of their time together. Worries that if she forgets the sounds of his screams she’s failing him somehow.

She takes another sip of her sparkling water. It’s poured into a wine glass so she can at least pretend she’ll get the relaxation she craves. Alcohol was never one of her vices but she finds it’s better to be safe than sorry. It’s unhealthy as far as coping mechanisms go, but she’s been worse so it’s going down as a win.

Chaol told her some guy called Brullo is casting this one. She’s never heard of him, which is kind of rare. She’s been on the periphery of this bubble for pretty much her entire life, following her mother around her own movie sets and sitting on the wooden directors chair when her legs still dangled off the side, but if he’s like any other casting director in Adarlan she knows how to impress him.

When she reaches the last line of the part of the script she’s been sent, her mind wanders again to Rowan Whitethorn.

He’s the kind of director up and coming actors can only hope to one day work with, even though she’s pretty sure he can’t be much more than thirty, he’s built himself to a level where he can be choosy with his projects.

It's a well deserved privilege. Each of his works has stayed with her after watching, his style is gritty and dark, but grounded in a way that leaves her empty each time after finishing.

She wants this, and she buries the guilt she feels for that. Sam would want her to want this. She deserves it, or at least she hopes she can come to.

Dorian books her a mid-morning flight so she doesn’t have to wake too early before the audition, he’s a damn good agent and one she definitely doesn’t deserve with his seemingly endless patience, but she’s continuously grateful for him.

Aelin styles herself for it, ties her hair back and leaves the makeup to a minimum in a way that she hopes shows them she’s right for the part, that she can be the insecure little girl who experiences far too much. She knows she doesn’t have the sheltered innocence the character has, but she’s an actress and this is what she does. Aelin pretends for a living.

He’s also booked her a room in a pretty nice hotel for the night, she’s not sure whether he’s used her meagre acting funds or the funds from the account she knows he mom throws money into every month. It’s an argument she and Evalin have had repeatedly, she wants to stand on her own two feet, but she never protests too hard. The account kept the roof over her head when she was too busy snorting her life away to consider where her next paycheck would come from.

Aelin throws herself backwards into the crisp white bedding on the hotel room bed and takes a deep breath. The only luggage she brought with her is a carry on slung somewhere by the door and the room feels too empty to sit here and wait for the car that’s arriving to take her to the studio in just over an hour. If she sits here and waits the nerves will only build, and then she’ll itch for something to take the edge off.

She picks her phone up to text her cousin.

Jet lag from a 2 hour flight. Who would have thought?

Aelin waits two minutes for a reply, locking and unlocking her phone as she sits there, but one doesn’t come. Aedion’s probably at a training session and not checking his phone. Aelin runs a hand through her hair, careful not to dislodge the pins she placed carefully in it this morning, she needs to stop using him as her crutch. She knows he doesn’t mind, but it’s not right either way.

She needs to get out of this room.

The streets of Rifthold are busy and crammed as she meanders down them, clutching the takeout coffee cup she bought from a vendor with a stall at the side of the road.

People pay her no mind as she walks, the oversized shades hide her eyes that she knows are a dead giveaway for her membership of the Ashryver line. Even if she didn’t wear them, everybody else here wants to be someone, and so far she can still blend in if she tries.

She sends a text to the assistant organising the audition, it’s kind of shitty of her but she keeps it brief because she can’t remember their name, letting them know the car isn’t needed anymore and that she’ll make her own way there. She needs the stroll through the streets to clear her head.

Aelin needs to nail it. She hasn’t felt the twisting of desire so sharp in her stomach for a long time and the only way she’ll manage it is with a clear head.

She alternates her breathing with sips of her coffee, the taste is bitter but she keeps drinking. She pulls her phone out to check the directions to the studio.

Spontaneous isn’t a word Aelin would use to describe herself anymore, any longing to go with the flow died the minute she lost control. It’s safer now to plan, to make sure she won’t lead herself astray.

Brullo is a man in his mid forties, with dashes of grey seasoned through his muddy brown hair, and kind lines around his eyes as he smiles and shakes her hand. Aelin wipes the sweat off her palm on her jeans before clasping her hand in his.

The audition goes about as well as she can hope for, she remembers every line, and the other casting director is fairly natural reading the lines for her to act against. Aelin swallows back her tears after she finishes, trying to keep what dignity she can to end the audition when there’s snot threatening to run down her upper lip. It was a brutal scene to start with, but if she can pull this off she can surely manage the rest.

Brullo’s expression is carefully guarded as she leaves, giving nothing away, but Aelin thinks she did a good job, which is all she could have ever hoped for.

She’s staring at the tiled floor, mulling over Brullo’s parting words, thanks Aelin, our people will be in touch, when she hits something hard and warm.

She’s too busy dissecting those eight words to register exactly who it is with their hands clamped around the top of her arms, steadying her as she stumbles, but she looks up and her gaze meets that of a pair of striking, green eyes.

The man gripping her is easily over a head taller than her, broad and strong enough that she fights back the shiver that wants to roll through her at his touch. He’s staring down at her, the strong planes of his face drawn into a deep frown, with his strangely coloured eyebrows pulled in.

They’re a kind of silver that matches his short cut hair, and it shines in the fluorescent light of the hallway in a way that it can only be natural, but she’s never seen a shade quite like it.

“Sorry,” she manages to stutter out, still thrown from the vulnerability of her audition.

“It’s alright.” His voice burns through the words, his accent rolling in a way that raises hairs down the back of her neck. He flashes her a dangerous grin and she steadies herself. She knows what that look means. She’s used to the male attention, and as much as she hates to acknowledge it, she knows her looks are an element of how she’s got as far as she has. That and her family’s name.

The decision of whether to register in the guild as Aelin Ashryver or Aelin Galathynius was one she had spent hours deliberating over. Did she want the level of independence Galathynius would give her, or the reputation being an Ashryver would bring?

The man releases his grip on her shoulders, but not before running his hands down her arms until he reaches her wrists which he releases with a light squeeze. She takes an almost imperceptible step back, leaning back to breathe some air into her lungs. All she ends up doing is filling her mind with this man’s smell, inviting and intoxicating, a delicious combination of pine trees and snowy winter mornings.

“I don’t usually go around slamming into people like this,” she tells him, letting some of her snark slip through. He’s said two words to her so far but she knows he can take it, and she wants to play.

His grin becomes even more wicked and it truly is a sight to see. This man is built like a god; broad, muscular shoulders stretching the white button up he wears and she spies the dark lines of a tattoo threatening to slip past his collar.

It’s been a couple of months since her last mindless hook-up, and this man would more than do. The mischief glimmering in his eyes tells her he’d know how to make her gasp and beg.

“Slam into me anytime.” His words are a sensual croon and her mouth drops open slightly, but he sidesteps her before she can manage to speak again, nodding towards the door she’s come through. “Good luck with whatever you were here for.”

With that he’s gone, leaving her to turn and watch the way his grey slacks pull against his thighs as he walks away from her.

Aelin tries not to think too much about the outcome of the audition, and flies back to Orynth in economy class with a sleep mask tucked over her eyes lest she be recognised when all she wants to do is curl up in bed and be alone for a bit. That or get fucking wasted, and she can’t do that.

She tries far too hard to forget about the man from the hallway, forget about the way his voice had rumbled deep in her chest and the tug in her belly that his words had sent through her.

She begs Elide to come to a bar with her, and she agrees. Aelin needs to pay her more, maybe change her title from publicist to publicist-come-part-time-therapist-and-life-saver. Aelin’s not sure she has the budget for that really.

Elide would smack her if she knew Aelin’s thoughts. Would scold her for looking at Elide just like an employee as if they weren’t childhood friends and Elide hadn’t been there holding her hand through the whole Sam thing. As if she, Lysandra and Aedion hadn’t been her only reason for being here now.

A bar might be a risk, but she can sip her sparkling water while she browses the small selection of men that Orynth has to offer.

She enjoys the easy conversation she has with Elide, chatting about what their friends have been up to, even though most of them are mainly Elide’s friends at this point. After Sam she stopped speaking to everyone but those who were necessary. She couldn’t manage any more than that.

“You should come with us next time,” Elide is saying as she sips her own lemonade. Aelin knows Elide would normally choose a crisp glass of white wine over a lemonade and her sobriety solidarity touches her heart.

“Maybe,” she shrugs, noncommittal.

The look Elide wears tells her she’s debating pushing the issue for the millionth time against the risk that Aelin would pull back again. She hates that she does this to her friends so she sighs.

“Text me next time,” she tries. “I’ll see if I’m free.”

Elide offers her a thankful smile, and Aelin returns it, trying to tell herself this is what she needs and that she shouldn’t just stay locked up thinking about Sam.

There’s a dark haired guy at the bar catching her eye, his jeans are far too tight and his shirt is ridiculous, but she can see the body beneath and his face is striking. Elide notices her stare and smirks.

She likely knows why Aelin invited her out tonight, but doesn’t mind. Lorcan’s probably waiting for her at the home they share, waiting for her to come back so they can be in love. Aelin hates the bastard, except she doesn’t. She introduced her friend to the tall, dark and grouchy hockey player at the wrap party for the shit teen movie she did a couple of years back, and she’s big enough to admit she wants what they have.

She had what they have.

What’s left in her glass slips down her throat easily in one mouthful and she promises to text Elide tomorrow before slipping out of the booth and over to the guy at the bar.

“You going to just stare at me all night?” She asks with a sly smile. “Or did you plan on doing something about it at some point?”

His smile makes him look even more attractive.

“Maybe I was waiting for you to make the first move, a beautiful girl like you can be intimidating.”

It’s a shit line and she rolls her eyes, but tugs him into a cab back to her place anyway.

“Please.” Her voice shakes as she begs. “Please don’t do this.”

The man in front of them scoffs and Sam squeezes her hand, his palm rough against her own.

“Aelin, baby. It’s okay, just do what he says.”

He lets go of her hand and turns back to the guy in front of them. His face is covered by a black mask, only two slits show her the dark brown of his eyes. She can barely look away from the knife he holds out in front of himself, it’s pointed at Sam but that doesn’t make her feel any better, it makes her feel worse in fact.

“Your wallet,” the guy demands.

Tears are rolling down her cheeks, fat and hot, as she fishes around in her bag for her purse.

“Just dump the whole thing,” the guy growls, irritated, but she’s pretty sure she’s going into shock and she can’t focus. Can’t breathe.

Sam’s voice is steady by her side as he throws his own wallet onto the street in front of them.

“Alright, man. We’re doing everything you say.”

“Hands up.” The mugger’s voice is sharp. “Don’t fucking move.”

She raises her arms straight in the air, trying to control the way her hands are shaking and the attacker ducks down to grab their things.

She lets out a tiny whimper and feels Sam spin to her, his eyes begging her to trust him. No, she shakes her head.

“I said don’t fucking move,” the guy yells and lunges for Sam.

His scream cuts the night air and she whirls, hands dropping into the air between them as he drops to the ground. The mugger takes off, sprinting down the empty street and she falls to her knees by Sam’s side.

In the dark, the pool spilling out across the floor by Sam’s side just looks black, but she knows that really it’s red. She’s not stupid. His face is twisted in pain and her hands flutter around his torso before she manages to pull back the flap of his jacket.

There’s a hole in his white t-shirt and now her jeans are wet where she kneels.

She needs her phone, needs to call someone who can make this all better, but her phone is gone.

She presses her hands against his side and his eyes shutter closed as he gasps. His breathing is stuttered and uneven.

“Sam. Sam, no,” she cries. “I’ll get help. You’re okay.”

“Aelin.” He raises a hand to press against her cheek, and the blood on it is sticky and warm.

“No, Sam. No, stay with me.”

The scream that tears through her throat will hurt tomorrow but now she barely feels it. “HELP!”

His breathing becomes much quicker as she presses on his side and screams again.

She knows abstractly that she’s crying, tears and snot streaming down her face as she desperately presses her hands against his side.

There’s a strong arm around her waist, tugging her back and away from Sam, and she screams one word over and over.

“No, no, no, no.”

There are people here now, leaning over Sam, leaning over his body.

“NO.”

Aelin gasps as she launches up in her bed. The sheets are stuck to her clammy skin and her head flies to the side. The guy is gone, the side of the bed he occupied when she fell asleep now cold. Good.

She lives it over and over in her dreams, sees the dark street more often than not, feels the phantom warmth of his blood down her legs. Wakes screaming herself hoarse just as she did that night. She doesn’t normally let people stay the night. Even when Aedion tried for the first few weeks after the fact, she couldn’t sleep, couldn’t turn her brain off for even a second. Every time she closed her eyes she was back on that street, begging and pleading for him to open his eyes.

She grasps at her side for the switch of her bedside lamp and flicks it on. Her room is cold and empty and she hasn’t had it in her to decorate past the basics so it’s plain and impersonal when she looks around, trying to calm her breathing.

She checks the time. 6:25am. Not bad, she must have managed about six hours of sleep last night, and it’s more than she usually gets.

There're a few texts waiting in her inbox, including one from Elide, and she expects it to be a request to let her know that she got home safe but it’s not.

Call me as soon as you wake up.

Sent at 6:02am. Elide is a chronic overworker, no matter how much Aelin begs her to stick to a 9 to 5 schedule, but she couldn't imagine her friend any other way. The smiling emoji at the end of the text lets her know it’s nothing she needs to panic about, so she takes a moment to scroll through her other messages. It’s unusual for her to wake up to so many.

She clicks on her conversation with Dorian, the only message she can see, his most recent one, just says Aelin. He has sent her nine messages while she slept, and she scrolls up to reach the first one.

Aelin, you did it. You booked the Rowan Whitethorn movie.

Her heart pounds in her chest, running into overdrive as she processes the words on her screen.

She got the part. She fucking did it.

This is one of those moments she knows she’ll remember.

Dorian has forwarded over a number of contracts and official things but she ignores them in favour of dialling Elide’s number.

“Aelin!” Her friend’s voice is breathy when she answers. “Congratulations, I knew you could do it.”

“Thanks, El.” A pause where she takes a deep breath in. “I can’t believe it.”

She falls back onto her mattress, pressing a fist to her lips as she smiles, eyes closed, almost giddy as she listens to her friend talk.

“They’re putting a press release out today at 12:30, announcing you and the male lead, who I haven’t found out yet but I will.”

“Oh my gods,” she sighs, covering her eyes with a clammy hand.

“I know,” Elide laughs.

She allows herself one tear as she stares up at the white of her ceiling.

This is big, she can feel it.

Later her phone buzzes as Elide sends her links to two different articles breaking the news.

Fenrys Moonbeam and Aelin Ashryver to star in new Chaol Westfall drama. More to follow.

Rowan Whitethorn signs on to direct The Crescent City, the latest project from Chaol Westfall (Throne of Glass, The King’s Hand & more).

She presses the phone to her chest as she lets out a sigh of relief.

It all moves pretty quickly from that point.

She’s on a plane back to Rifthold the next day and Chaol has sent over the whole script for her to read on the plane, bypassing Dorian completely even though that’s how it normally goes and she knows the two are like brothers.

Chaol was the one to introduce her to Dorian, and they kind of took her under their showbiz wings in the first few years she began to get really serious about acting.

They gave her the inside scoop, having been in the industry for a few more years than her. Chaol writing and making movies and Dorian doing all the background stuff like contracts and negotiations and exposure. They took her to their wrap parties that everyone knows are just networking events and introduced her to some of the big names in the industry without so much as batting an eyelid, and she knows she owes them a lot.

The script is phenomenal, and she has to try and hide the tears that form when she reaches the end, it probably wouldn’t be the best start to the project, being photographed crying on the plane on the way to start shooting. It really is some of Chaol’s best work, and she sends him a text when she lands that says fuck you, I hate it, but his reply lets her know he knows she’s joking.

It tells the story of her character, Feyre, and how she’s dragged into selling drugs to pay for her mom’s hospital bills. Along the way she meets Fenrys Moonbeam’s character, Rhysand, the glowering bad-boy who’s well established in the gang and together they see some shit and do some shit but manage to get out together. The topics are kind of cliché and over done, but Chaol has managed to add a level of originality to it that makes it really special.

It’s heavier on the romance than Rowan Whitethorn’s previous projects, but it’s gritty enough that she can see why he’s signed on. It’s going to be hard, she knows this, and it will really push her to her limits trying to embody the range of emotions her character goes through. But she wants it, and she will make her performance incredible if it fucking kills her.

There’s a niggling part of her brain that reminds her that she’s surrounded by some big names on this project, names that are big for a reason, and she can’t let them hiring her be a mistake.

She sends Chaol a follow up text, wtf are these names btw???

He ignores her.

When she’s in the car taking her to the apartment the studio is renting out for her while they film she decides to take a little trip through Instagram and look up her new co-star. Fenrys is a household name by now, a couple of years in after his debut, but it can’t hurt to know a little more about her leading man.

f.moonbeam01 comes up as the first option when the types the three letters f e n into the search bar and he has over eleven million followers.

Shit.

Not that she needs a reminder but it slaps her in the face that this is actually big. Aelin only has a few thousand followers herself and Elide has already told her to prepare herself for that to rise.

His Instagram is a mixture of mostly photos of himself, some selfies and some professional shots, and he’s obviously gorgeous. His deep brown complexion playing well against his golden curls with a straight strong nose and flawless white teeth. He’s definitely leading man material, and she can tell just how charming his grin is even through a screen.

There are also promo pictures for all the movies he’s involved in at the moment, there are at least three projects he has coming out this year. Damn.

His most recent picture is a screenshot of the article announcing their casting, and he’s actually tagged her in the photo along with Rowan himself. She hasn’t seen the tag until now, it’s normally Elide’s job as her publicist to tackle the professional side to her social media, but there’s 6.4 million likes on the photo.

Again, shit.

She can’t help herself from clicking onto Rowan’s account, rowanwhitethorn is a pretty simple handle. He only has 27 posts, most of them are behind the scenes shots from projects, one with his classic director’s chair that has his surname printed across the back in thick white lettering, and a few pictures of different cameras and pieces of equipment.

There’s only one picture of him on there, and it’s from 2017. He has his back to the camera and the sunset behind him lends a shadow that covers all of his features. Very artsy she muses to herself as she double taps the screen to like it, he probably won’t see anyway, the notification will probably get lost in the ones his account no doubt gets from his 2 million followers. The only thing she can gather from the photo about his physical appearance is that he has pretty broad shoulders.

She’s tempted to google him, wanting to know what he looks like, but she feels a bit too much like a stalker, and she knows she’ll meet him in a couple of days anyway so she leaves it and pulls up her emails to reply to the seemingly endless list of forms she has to fill out and send back to Dorian.

The apartment she’s living in for the next few months is modern and airy, with clean lines and bright decor. Aelin likes it, and while it’s not hers in the same way as her home back in Orynth, it’s far better than a hotel room that lower budget movies tend to shove actors in. Another reminder that this time is different, there’s a bigger budget than she’s used to, bigger names than she’s used to, and she can’t fuck this up. There’s more eyes on her now than ever before.

She sends Elide a picture of her new bedroom and her friend just replies with a bunch of exclamation marks and she forwards the picture across to Lysandra too. Aelin wanders through to the kitchen, wondering if anyone bothered to stock the kitchen, not that she can’t do groceries herself, it would just be nice. She’s delighted to find a fridge full of fresh produce and gets about making herself a dish of pasta and veggies.

She tucks herself in front of the big television, munching away as she watches some National Geographic documentary about whales and it helps to take her mind off the fact that this is her last night of peace for a while. She’s trying not to get too in her head about it, there’s a fine line between knowing it’s a big deal and freaking the fuck out about it, and she needs to stay on the right side of that line, needs to keep herself in check.

If she allows herself a moment to relax, a moment to sink into the situation and bask in the opportunity; she’s excited.

And depending on how well this movie does, she knows she may not have another night like this one. Somehow the thought doesn’t seem to scare her.

Lysandra calls her as she’s waiting for the car to arrive to take her to the studio, it's day one of their table read today and she’s tired. She spent all of last night tossing and turning, unable to shut her mind off and panicking over every single detail of how this day could go.

She’s lucky it’s only a table read, she’s not sure even a professional make-up artist would be able to cover the dark circles under her eyes.

“Hello, you.” Lysandra’s voice is cheery through the phone and Aelin smiles, she’s really missed Lysandra and hasn’t taken nearly enough time to seek her out during her recent whirlwind. “I hear congratulations are in order.”

They had texted since the news dropped, but with Lysandra shooting a campaign for a brand she can’t remember somewhere over in the Southern Continent they haven’t had time yet for a call.

“Thanks Lys,” she says as she gets into the back of the sleek black car that the studio has sent for her, tucking her small black backpack onto the seat next to her. It’s all she can use at this point, any other bag just makes her think of that night.

“How’s it going? Have you met everyone yet?”

Lysandra runs in these circles of A list celebrities and Aelin wouldn't be surprised if she already knew Fenrys. She met Lysandra when they were teens; years before her first show for Victoria’s Secret, years before she was walking for people like Gucci and Prada, and they stayed close when they were both living off cheap ramen and thin strands of hope. Aelin likes to tease her about hanging with a lowly C-lister like herself but Lysandra is always quick to quip that she’s maybe a G-lister at a push.

That could change.

“I haven’t met anyone so far, but I’m literally on my way to meet everyone now.”

“That’s exciting, you’ll have to let me know if Fenrys Moonbeam is really that good looking in person.”

“So you don’t already know him?” she asks, teasing. Maybe Lysandra doesn’t know quite everyone.

“Oh you know, apart from every week-end when we hook-up, we’re not really that good friends.”

Aelin laughs, mostly to herself, knowing that somewhere out there that probably is a story that’s cropped up in some cheap tabloid. She knows there’s probably some dating rumours about herself and Fenrys already even though she’s still yet to meet him. It’s just how it is, she knows this, has known this since she was old enough to read the stories about her parents’ messy divorce.

“What does Aedion have to say about that, hm?”

“Oh, he joins us obviously!” Lysandra’s laugh is bright and loud through the grainy speaker.

No-one is more desperate for Aedion to propose to Lysandra than Aelin, not even the magazines, desperate for a scoop of the golden couple, quarterback for the Rifthold Ravens and the world-famous supermodel.

“I think I’ve heard enough, thanks,” Aelin laughs as the car pulls through security checks at the studio. “Lys, I have to go, I’ve just got to the studio.”

“Okay, good luck! Promise you’ll call me later though and let me know how it goes.”

She needs to make sure she puts aside a minute to catch up properly with Lysandra, she’s been slacking recently and she knows her friend misses her. She misses Lysandra too, and Aedion. Maybe she’ll stay with them for a couple of days when she gets a break from filming, she can probably see them far more often now that she’s in Rifthold too.

“I promise,” she agrees. “Tell Aedion to make sure he spoils you from me.”

Lysandra snorts, “Oh he does, I’ll pass it along anyway though.”

“Means a lot. Love you, got to go.”

Lysandra’s returning love you is sincere, but she cuts off the phone as the car comes to a stop outside the plain brick building.

She readies herself in the back of the car, pulling down a deep breath to center herself, she can do this.

The girl leading her to the room doesn’t speak other than to tell Aelin to follow right this way, and she’s grateful, she’s not sure she could speak right now without vomiting all over the dated linoleum flooring.

She needs to get a grip, and fight the urge for a hit that strikes her when she’s nervous like this. It could make her fears disappear, at least for a moment before they all came crashing back down ten-times worse the minute the high faded. There is a reason she packed that shit in, and she knows her nerves will pass. It’s been a while since she’s done any of this, her last movie read was pre-Sam and no matter how hard she tries to push it down, there’s a lot of pressure on her for this to go well.

The girl pauses outside an unassuming white door and holds a hand out to gesture for Aelin to go in. She rolls her shoulders back, holding her head high before she steps into the room. If all else fails she’s still Evalin Ashryver’s daughter and to some people that is something to be proud of.

Fenrys Moonbeam is the first person to catch her eye when she steps into the room, and it seems he’s done some stalking too because he ends his conversation by the food table with some others she doesn’t recognise and bounds straight over to her with a grin.

“Aelin Ashryver,” he says, his voice deep and smooth like velvet. “I’ve heard of you. It’s a pleasure.”

“You have?” She’s both surprised and not at the same time as she holds a hand out for him to shake.

He bypasses the hand she holds out and tugs her into his chest, wrapping both arms around her and knocking her backpack off her shoulder.

“I have,” he says as he bends down to pick her bag back up. “Sorry about that.”

She shakes her head. She needs to stop acting like a bewildered school girl meeting the Queen, she needs to remember that she has second billing for this movie thanks to Dorian.

“Don’t worry about it.” Aelin finds a smile and plasters it on.

Someone calls for everyone to take their seats and she notices the name placards spaced out in front of each chair. She locates her own and it's surreal to see her name printed there, Aelin Ashryver, between Fenrys and another actress playing her sister called Manon Blackbeak. She’s even less known than Aelin, and she only feels slightly guilty for how much that relaxes her.

Aelin knows how this goes down, they sit opposite the production team, the director and all the executive producers and she realises that she’s opposite the sign that reads Rowan Whitethorn.

She slides into her seat, Fenrys and Manon chatting over her head as she does, and she spots a male slipping into the chair opposite her. He’s wearing a slim-fit forest green henley and dark jeans, his shoulders are just as broad as they were in his Instagram photo and here there’s no shadow across his handsome features.

She can’t deny that he’s attractive, she knew it the first time she saw him. Her stare locks onto the man from the hallway after her audition and he smirks at her as if they have a secret. And maybe they do, but now she’s realising that he’s her boss, and a little voice in her head that sounds suspiciously like Elide is whispering to her that opportunities like this don’t come around everyday.

She owes it to Sam and she owes it to herself not to fuck this up, but the look that Rowan Whitethorn is sending her across the table makes her think she could risk it all.

It takes them three hours to run through it in full, and she’s happy to see she’s not the only one with a tear in her eye at the end. Rowan doesn’t cry, but he hasn’t looked at her since before they started and each time she read a line she avoided looking at him. She knows there were a couple of times where he nodded along with her expression of the lines. She’s ignoring it.

This is what she lives to do, they’re not even filming yet and she feels like she’s right where she needs to be. It’s cliche but she breathes easier when she acts, the air feels lighter when she takes on a new personality and feels all the things she’s told to feel.

It takes away the restlessness she feels when it’s all just down to her, being told how to feel is far easier.

Her therapist tells her she has both anxiety and PTSD, but she feels like giving it a name doesn’t make it any easier to deal with. She knows a diagnosis can be a relief for some, but to Aelin, what she feels is far too messy to be summed up in four letters. Her life has simply become the before, and the after, even though what each of those contains is a complete fucking shit show.

There are two Aelins; pre that night and post that night.

The Aelin from before that night doesn’t exist anywhere but in her own memory.

Once the run through is completed and basic notices are given by the producers, things like call sheet distributions and health and safety, the occupants of the room begin to mingle. She sees him make a beeline for her, and she swallows. She’s not ready for this.

“You look surprised to see me.” His voice is as hot as it was the last time she saw him, the slight rasp in his throat and his accent. Gods, the accent.

“You don’t look too surprised to see me.” She tilts her head at him because she feels way thrown off, like he has all the power here. Which he does. But like, she can play it cool. Fake it ‘til you make it, right? “Maybe had a little google search?”

He shakes his head at her, biting his lip kind of like he wants to laugh, and she bristles. She needs to level the playing field.

“Says you.” He’s definitely laughing now. “I saw you liked my photo last night.”

“What about it?” She shrugs, hoping her acting skills are up to it. He only tilts his head to the side as he takes her in.

“Do you think I didn’t know who you were in the corridor? I’m the director.” And fuck him for saying it like that, full of an easy confidence that in any other situation would have had heat pooling in the floor of her stomach. “Brullo discussed the casting with me.”

Right. Of course.

She’s not sure what to say next. Honestly? She kind of wants to flirt with him, but fuck.

Instead she hums a laugh, not really caring whether he thinks it’s sincere or not, and looks absentmindedly around the room instead of back up at him. He reaches a hand out to brush his fingers down her arm, looping them round the bones of her wrist and squeezing slightly like he did the last time before letting go. Her eyes snap back to his.

“Just between you and me?” he asks and the smile he wears is far too hot for her to deal with right now. “I think we made a good choice.”

“Thanks,” she says, but it’s a little too breathy. A little too dazed for having spent such a short amount of time in his presence. She’s aware that she needs to be careful, they are very much not alone in this room right now, and she doesn’t need to start any rumours that would destroy her chances of escaping this without a scandal.

She’s here to do a job, and she’s going to do it well. She doesn’t need any distractions.

He leaves her soon after that, and his parting remark of “have a good first day, Aelin” sticks with her, and she tries not to replay the way his voice had wrapped around her name.

Manon Blackbeak is watching them from across the room, and she arches one perfectly shaped eyebrow at Aelin. She ignores her; let her think what she wants, she’s surely professional enough not to gossip to any press, and stomps over to where Fenrys is chatting with one of the producers. It seems like a good enough place to start.

[wroteasongabouther]

can’t stand to see you lonely: part 3

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

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.

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.

“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?

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.

>> part four <<

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until next week 😘

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[bluerose5]

First Impressions (Part 1)

Word Count: 1,726

Rated T (Warnings for Swearing, Canon-Typical Violence)

Summary: What if, after receiving that call from Garrus while he was pinned down on Omega, Castis tries to track him down?

"Are you sure it was him?"

"I'm sure." Alec's smile turned mocking, the vitriol directed more towards himself. "I'm no Shadow Broker, but I still have my list of contacts here on the Citadel, even if it's dwindling by the seconds."

"Alec—"

"I don't need your pity, Castis." His smile fell, a subtle frown curling at the edges of his lips. "Besides, I'm doing this as a favor for a friend. Father to father. You know how it is."

"Yeah," Castis Vakarian sighed, "so I do."

It had been quite some time since the elder Vakarian graced the Citadel with his presence, but ever since he received that call...

"You finish up what you have to do there, and then you come on home to Palaven. We have a lot to sort out."

Even now, the echoes of gunfire rang in his ears, but not as much as the resignation in Garrus’s voice.

"Target practice," Garrus had called it.

As if an experienced C-Sec officer with common sense couldn't tell the difference between target practice and an all-out gunfight.

Even now, Castis's chest tightened.

The thought of losing Garrus now, especially when his mother's condition wasn't showing any signs of improvement—

Castis couldn't stand the thought. He couldn't lose both his wife and his son all at once.

When Garrus never reported back, he had to do something. After he spoke with some old friends on the Citadel, Alec Ryder put out some feelers of his own at his friend's request. For a while, there was nothing.

Then, they got a hit.

The Normandy SR-2, arriving to the Citadel from Omega. A ship flagged by Citadel Control's security algorithms for having alleged ties to the pro-human extremist group known only as Cerberus.

It was under the command of no other than Commander Shepard.

Why was Castis not surprised?

Between his and Alec's contacts, they had been able to discern that there were indeed aliens listed as part of the ship’s crew. A surprising move, given the organization's history, but Castis was far from calling them friends. Just because they expanded recruitment beyond their own species did not make them allies.

Add in a Spectre miraculously back from the dead, and the whole situation reeked of trouble.

Alec agreed, so they approached the matter with caution.

Thankfully, Solana understood when Castis had to drop everything and go. All that she asked was that he return home with the knowledge that Garrus was safe. That's it.

Of course, that wasn't enough to satisfy him.

Castis knew that Garrus was alive now, but that wasn't enough.

The next time he and Alec were pinged, they received intel stating that Garrus was spotted poking around the shipping sector of Zakera Ward with Commander Shepard, seeking out a notorious forger. For what? Spirits only knew.

The only other info that they had was that there was a drell and a quarian accompanying them as well.

While they awaited positive IDs on those two, they continued following Garrus’s trail, questioning the loose-lipped volus who was more than happy to give up Fade's position after his lousy bodyguards wandered off for a break.

Eventually, they were led to Harkin's position. It wasn't exactly hard to figure out that Garrus had already been there, what with the trail of bodies and mechs they left in their wake.

Seeing Harkin curled up on the floor, the bastard took one look up at them, then swore under his breath.

"Oh, you gotta be fucking kidding me," he spat. "First your son, and now you? Haven't you Vakarians done enough?"

"Heh," Alec chuckled. "We're just getting started, tough guy."

Tapping at his omni-tool, Castis sent out an alert. While he dealt with Harkin, Alec approached the open console nearby, downloading all of its content, including the most recent call to a client.

"Have fun explaining yourself to C-Sec, Harkin, or is it Fade now?" Castis paused, crossing his arms over his chest as he peered down at him. "You can't resist making a fool of yourself for even a second, can you?"

"Hot take, coming from you." Harkin sneered. "You can't even keep that hot-headed son of yours on a leash. Bet C-Sec was glad to finally have his insubordinate ass off the force."

Castis saw red.

He took a step forward, but Alec's hand came down onto his shoulder, stopping him in his path.

"He's not worth it," Alec reminded him gently. As C-Sec swarmed the area, Alec jerked his chin in the direction of the door. "Come on. Let’s go find him before it's too late."

They strolled out together, heads ducked close and voices kept low.

"Did you find anything?" Castis asked.

"More than enough," Alec assured him. "Garrus is looking for a turian by the name of Lantar Sidonis."

"Can't say I've heard of him."

"Hmm..." Alec hummed thoughtfully to himself. "There was a location sent to set up a meeting. Orbital Lounge."

"Good work," Castis said, but Alec shrugged off the praise. "Let's go."

They stopped to make a quick change in a clothing store along the way. They got dressed in casual attire, posing as a couple of friends enjoying the sights.

By the time they made it to the lounge, Castis was already getting antsy. He struggled to maintain his cover, his eyes darting this way and that.

Alec elbowed him in the side.

"Calm down," he warned. He turned towards a random window display to glance over the selection of model ships. "Maintenance walkway above. Over your shoulder and to the right."

Castis snuck a peek as soon as he had the chance to.

He felt all of the blood drain from his face.

Turning quickly back towards the display, he hissed under his breath, "He has a rifle."

Alec shushed him before they could attract too much attention.

"I know, but do we really want to announce that little fact to the entire plaza?!" he whispered frantically.

Right.

Taking a deep breath, Castis composed himself. Usually, he wasn't this bad at remaining undercover, but the stakes were too high —too personal— to ignore.

It was hard to remain calm when your son was about to make the biggest mistake of his life.

Killing in a public place...

What happened to make him fall so far?

"I spotted someone up there with him," Alec said, breaking Castis of his reverie. "Shepard, maybe?"

Looking around at the crowd, Castis shook his head a moment later.

"No, not Shepard. Look. To your left."

Alec followed his line of sight, then ducked his head back down.

"Her, the quarian, and I'm assuming that's Sidonis," Alec said, counting them off one by one. "Which means that might be the drell up top with Garrus. A lookout, perhaps?"

"Hmph."

That was when Castis noticed the spotting laser.

His pupils narrowed into thin slits.

"No."

Alec stopped him again, stepping out in front of him with his hands spread wide.

"Wait, wait, wait," he ordered. "Let's see how this plays out first."

Castis turned on him with a glare.

"My son is about to commit a murder in plain sight, and you want me to wait?" he snapped.

"I want you to think clearly," Alec corrected. "Take another look at who the spotting laser is trained on."

Staring him down, Castis huffed impatiently, but quickly complied. They couldn’t afford to be stuck at an impasse at such a crucial moment.

One look was enough to clear up the image that had been blurred by emotion.

What in the—

"No." Castis shook his head in disbelief, but that didn't change what he was witnessing. "No, Garrus is too fond of the Commander. He wouldn't hurt her."

The conviction with which he spoke surprised even himself, but Garrus's attachment to Shepard was undeniable, as much as he was loath to admit it.

Even then, he couldn’t deny what was right there in front of him. The spotting laser was focused on the back of Commander Shepard’s skull, clear as day.

However, it wasn’t hard to put two and two together.

When Sidonis moved, Garrus followed him, but the Commander was instantly there to block his opening.

There were a few tense moments where words were exchanged, far too quiet to hear from where Alec and Castis were positioned. They went back and forth for a bit, and Castis admittedly feared for the worst when both Shepard and Sidonis started to leave.

The second Garrus had a clear shot at Sidonis, Castis held his breath.

But the shot never came.

"Well," Alec muttered, "that was anticlimactic."

Castis glared and punched him in the shoulder.

"Ow!"

"That's my son, Ryder."

With a grumble, Castis dragged Alec along. Their hunt wasn't over yet.

"You should meet mine. I feel like if Scott would've let him go, then he would have somehow managed to pull the trigger by accident. A real stroke of bad luck, that one."

"Spirits."

Strolling through the crowds, they laid low for as long as they could.

By the time they found Garrus again, he was talking with the others by a skycar terminal, presumably waiting on a cab.

A whole flood of emotions came crashing down on Castis at once, and there was no holding back. Not anymore.

Ignoring Alec's warnings not to do anything rash, Castis stormed off in their direction.

Insane how, after so many years of being friends, the N7 was only choosing now to try to be the voice of reason when Castis wanted to be anything but.

Out of everyone, the drell noticed him first, regarding him with suspicion.

Before he could warn him, Castis called out, "Garrus!"

The other three instantly froze, right before they turned to face him.

Garrus’s eyes widened, his mandibles falling slack as he gaped.

"Dad?"

"'Dad?!'" Shepard and the quarian echoed, shocked by such an unexpected turn of events.

The drell, on the other hand, didn't seem the least bit perturbed.

"Ah, his father," he hummed, nodding in understanding. "Your presence in the lounge makes sense now."

Alec's brow furrowed.

"Hold up, you knew we were there?" he asked skeptically.

"Well, I wouldn't exactly call you two 'subtle.'"

"That doesn't matter!" Castis snapped.

Clenching his jaw, his mandibles were clamped down tight.

Time to get this meeting back on track.

"Garrus, we need to talk."

[hopelesshawks]

Love and Admiration Part 19- Goodnight Princess

18+ Bakugo x fem!pro hero reader

Summary: (Y/n) has known Bakugo since middle school, admired him since high school, and had a crush on him since the first time they met. Even now, a top pro hero in her own right, she can’t shake her school girl crush. Too bad Bakugo literally has no idea she exists. Well that’s not entirely true… He does know pro hero Mercury exists, but (y/l/n) (y/n)? Never heard of her.

Warnings for brief depiction of sexual harassment (not from Bakugo), unprotected sex, fingering, oral (female receiving), degradation, praise kink, dacryphilia (crying kink), overstimulation, and dirty talk

Masterlist Help Lulu <3

As you walk up to the AHA building you spot Aizawa talking to a man with his back to you in a black bomber jacket, a white hood pulled over the back, with a black baseball cap on. Curiosity drives your feet forward a little faster until you get close enough that recognition finally hits and causes you to slow down again. Even with his back to you you’d recognize Bakugo Katsuki anywhere. Part of you wants to turn around and run home, message Aizawa some half hearted excuse about getting tied up in a villain attack and no longer being able to help out. Before you can though Aizawa notices your arrival and waves you over. “Here’s who you’ll be working with,” you hear your former teacher tell Bakugo and just as it sinks in that Bakugo was also clueless as to who he’d been working with, he turns around to see and your heart skips a beat. Yes he looks unfairly attractive the way he always does but what really caught your attention is his outfit. Right there in the center of his white hoodie is a black Mercury symbol, the same symbol stamped somewhere on almost all your merch and the same one you’ve been using as your profile picture on social media since your debut. Bakugo follows your gaze down to the incriminating symbol, his cheeks going bright red. He mutters out an excuse about tossing bags in the car so he can turn away although you’re a little surprised when he extends his hand out to you expectantly. You consider the man in front of you who still won’t meet your gaze. Hurt still burns unpleasantly in your chest but you hand over your duffel bag and with little more than a sheepish glance and nod as acknowledgment, Bakugo moves to the trunk of the car to load it up. “You and Bakugo can handle this right? I saw the news call you a dynamic duo so,” Aizawa asks and you nod immediately. “Yea, we’ve got this. You got nothing to worry about,” you assure the older man. “Good. Get into town, get some rest, one of the local heroes will fill you in on the situation in the morning,” he explains. You nod your understanding and then go to join Bakugo in the car. Once you’re settled in, Bakugo starts up the engine and pulls off into the night.

The silence is awkward. You stare out the window as the cityscape slowly starts to thin out. Once Bakugo pulls the car out onto the highway it doesn’t take long before you’re leaving the city lights behind entirely. When the silence becomes too oppressive you pop open the glove box and root around until you find a USB port. You use your phone charger to plug in your phone, scroll through to one of your chiller playlists, and press play. Music floats through the speakers and you feel yourself relaxing although a quick glance at Bakugo reveals he doesn’t feel the same. He’d discarded his jacket in the backseat once he’d gotten in the car and, as usual, had pushed the long sleeves of the hoodie up to his elbows. As a result it’s easy to see the tense line of his shoulders and the popping veins in his forearms. His grip on the steering wheel is so tight his knuckles are almost white. You’ll be genuinely surprised if there aren’t permanent indentations of his fingers in the steering wheel by the time you two reach your destination. You’re tempted to just let him stew in whatever emotions he’s feeling at seeing you again for the first time since you’d hooked up, but then your eyes fall on where your hero name is written on the sleeve of his hoodie and you decide you’re feeling just generous enough to break the silence.

“You’re wearing the hoodie I got you.”

“Yea.”

“Why?”

Bakugo’s hands somehow tighten even more on the steering wheel before he bites out “Because I like it,” defensively. You roll your eyes and return your gaze to the window. No one can say you didn’t try. You’re about to give up and lament your fate to the groupchat when you hear Bakugo sigh next to you. “That’s not it. I mean I do like it but I didn’t think your dumb ass was gonna be here and it’s not the only reason,” Bakugo confesses. “Insulting me is not a strong start but what’s the other reason?” you ask. The pause is long before Bakugo speaks up again to admit, “I’ve missed you.” The incredulous look you give him almost makes him wince. “You’re the one who stopped messaging me you asshole!” “I know that!” “Then you don’t get to miss me!” “Well I don’t know what the fuck to tell you cause I do!” “Then why’d you ghost me?” “I panicked!”

Both of you go silent after that particular admission. This time it’s Bakugo who speaks up to break it. “Look I don’t date,” he sighs. “Who the fuck said I wanted to date you?” you ask defensively, your cheeks heating up the slightest bit. “Will you shut the fuck up? I’m trying to apologize.” “Apologize better.” “If you shut the fuck up I will.” “I don’t think apologies are supposed to include telling the other person to shut the fuck up.” “I’m trying here (y/l/n),” Bakugo growls and the almost desperate edge to his voice is enough to make you swallow your next retort, instead motioning for him to continue. “I don’t date and I don’t usually fuck people I enjoy having around. I already fucked up with you enough so I didn’t want to do it again. I panicked and that only made shit worse until I didn’t know how to fix it, ok? People care about me and I’m shit to them, that’s just how it goes. I’m sorry you got caught up in it,” he finally admits.

You weren’t expecting that level of honesty from him, nor were you expecting his answer to be so vulnerable. You turn to face him as much as you can within the confines of the seat of the car and take in his body language. Had he always been this insecure about his relationships with the people around him? Maybe if you hadn’t spent years cataloging his every move and expression from afar you would’ve missed it, but looking at him now he looks cracked open. You get the distinct impression that as small as his list of people he likes is, the list of people he’s allowed to see him like this is even smaller. “That’s not true,” you offer but that only makes Bakugo scoff. “It’s not!” you insist. “I don’t need your fucking pity,” he grumbles. “Jesus Christ you really are an idiot. Midoriya, Kirishima, and Denki all have plenty of other friends asshole. If what you said were true they would’ve dumped you a long time ago so cut the pity party bullshit and give me a real fucking apology so I can forgive you already,” you insist, and it reminds you a little of how he’d encouraged you during the reunion. The glance he shoots you is calculating, as if trying to assess how much you mean those words. “You’re going to forgive me?” he asks skeptically. “With an actual apology? Yea. I swear to god you’re the only one who still sees you as the same person you were when we first got to UA,” you reply with a roll of your eyes. “I’m sorry for ghosting you,” he grumbles out, cheeks slightly flushed as he does so. “Good. You’re forgiven. Now what songs should I play the rest of the drive?”

The ride gets a lot easier after that. You’ve missed Bakugo and it’s nice slipping back into the groove the two of you seem to have with each other. He talks shit about your song choices but you still catch him humming along or tapping the steering wheel to the beat a few times. He reveals he got around to finishing your favorite movie and so you guys spend a long time talking about that and your recommendations for other movies going forward. It’s comfortable and before you know it Bakugo is driving past the welcome sign for the tiny town the two of you will be working in. There’s only one hotel. It’s small and could probably use some updating but it’ll do just fine for the short duration of your trip. As the two of you grab your bags and start to head inside Bakugo asks “What are the odds the old man sprung for us to get our own rooms?” “Doubtful, you know the association is cheap as fuck. It has to be. You’re stuck with me,” you tease. “Guess that ain’t so bad,” Bakugo shrugs, which causes your heart to pound a little harder in your chest. “I’ll check us in if you wanna grab some shit from the vending machine,” Bakugo offers and you easily agree, the two of you heading in opposite directions to complete your tasks.

As you make your way over to the vending machine you catch the attention of a middle aged man, likely another guest, who follows you over that direction. “Well hello beautiful, what’s a pretty little thing like you doing around here?” he calls as he makes his way over. You roll your eyes but otherwise ignore him as you instead focus on selecting something from the machine in front of you. “C’mon hot stuff, don’t ignore me. I can tell you’re a big city chick, probably been around the block right? What’s one more?” he insists, sliding his body in front of you. “Do you mind? I’m trying to grab something,” you reply as levelly as possible. It’s moments like this where you hate the spotlight of heroism. You would love nothing more than to make the man blocking your way move but that would be unbecoming of a role model for future generations. “Aww don’t be like that doll, lighten up,” the man grins before having the audacity to move away from the vending machine just enough to smack your ass. You are livid, your hand immediately grasping hold of his wrist to stop him from touching you again. You whirl on him to tell him off but before you can he’s being wrenched out of your grip and violently tossed to the floor. Before you can even fully process what’s happened Bakugo stands like a wall between you, all fury and fire and brimstone. You haven’t seen him this angry in a very long time and even if the man who’d been hitting on you doesn’t know who Bakugo is, the glare and overall body language is still enough to have him cowering at Bakugo’s feet. “If you ever fucking touch her again, if you so much as fucking look at her, I will make you wish you were never fucking born,” Bakugo growls out and god maybe you do have a murder boner like Nejire said because you should not find any of this hot but you definitely do. The older man scrambles to his feet with a nod and runs off with barely a glimpse behind him and certainly not one in your direction, allowing you and Bakugo to heave a sigh of relief. “I know you had that handled but dude pissed me off,” Bakugo explains. His voice is still rough and anger-laden and you try to ignore the way it sends shivers down your spine. “Thanks Bakugo,” you reply, grateful both for his defense of you and his acknowledgment that you don’t need defending. “Katsuki,” he corrects you immediately. “What?” “You’re not mad at me anymore right?” “No?” “Then call me Katsuki,” he insists gruffly. You can only nod in response, afraid that if you open your mouth something embarrassing will come out of it like how incredibly fucking hot it was watching him defend you or how saying his first name right now is bringing back a few too many memories of when he’d first demanded you use his first name in the alley.

Bakugo leads you to your room as you try in vain to rein in your rampant thoughts. Even as you finally arrive all you can think about is the feeling of his lips on yours, the feeling of him filling you up, and what it was like to, for a moment, be the sole owner of his attention. He tosses his stuff on his bed and sits down as you move towards your own but your mind insists on picturing him fucking you relentlessly into it. “What’s up with your face dumbass?” Bakugo suddenly asks and the question makes you jump about a foot in the air, warmth filling your cheeks as you realize you’ve been caught mid-fantasy. “Nothing is up with my face!” you defend and you hope it’s the truth because you can feel how much wetness has pooled in your panties already. Bakugo rises up and stalks towards you and you can’t help but feel like prey, stepping backwards away from him until he’s got you crowded up against the wall. The similarity to that day in the alley is not lost on you and it only makes things worse. “What’s running through that head of yours princess?” he asks and the nickname is too much, a breathless curse slipping past your lips unbidden. You don’t have much time to be embarrassed by how obviously flustered you’re getting because one of Katsuki’s hands finds your waistband as if on instinct at the sound of you breathless. “If you don’t stop I won’t be able to hold back,” he admits and you can tell by the flush in his cheeks that he means it. “I thought you don’t sleep with people you like,” you reply with bated breath. “You’re the exception,” he growls out, pressing closer before seeming to think better of it and closing his eyes, breathing deeply through his nose as if trying desperately to control himself, before adding “if you want to be.” “God yes,” you reply and no sooner have the words left your mouth is he pressing a bruising kiss to your lips as if he’s been quietly suffocating and you’re the last bit of oxygen left.

Katsuki tugs you away from the wall and you go easily, allowing him to push you towards your mattress until you’re lying down on it and he can comfortably hover over you, his lips barely leaving yours the entire time. It doesn’t take long to get you both down to your underwear, the entire process a blur. “You’re such a fucking mess for me princess,” Bakugo practically purrs as he runs his fingers along the damp fabric of your panties. Your hips buck up into the attention eagerly as you nod your agreement at the statement. “Yea, it’s only for you,” you tell him breathlessly and it might’ve been embarrassing if not for the way it draws a deep, satisfied growl from Katsuki’s chest his mouth dropping to your neck and then your chest and working further and further down. “Think you deserve a better apology then I gave you in the car,” he says suddenly looking up the length of your body to find your eyes. “What do you mean?” you ask with what little breath you have in your lungs. “I’ve always been better at doing shit than talking. You thought that apology before was good just wait,” he grins up at you cockily and it already has your stomach doing somersaults even before his teeth find the waistband of your panties and start tugging them down your legs. The moan you release at the sight is completely unfettered as your already dripping wet pussy clenches desperately around nothing. Katsuki is nothing if not a tease so even once he’s done with your panties he doesn’t immediately head to the main course. He lavishes attention on your inner thighs, leaving countless hickeys in his wake but no matter how much you whine and squirm he shows no signs of moving his mouth to where you really want it. “Katsuki,” you finally whine desperately. “What is it princess?” he asks and you can feel him smirking against you, the bastard. “I don’t think apologies are supposed to be teasing like this,” you pant. “Oh really now? You got something to say about my apology princess?” Bakugo asks, the smirk sliding away. “I think you’re not much better at this kind of apology than spoken ones.”

That was the wrong thing to say.

“I didn’t realize my princess was such a whore. You want my mouth that bad? You want to cum that bad?” Katsuki asks and there’s an edge to his voice you’re pretty sure means trouble for you but you nod anyway. “Please Katsuki.” “Well if my princess wants to be a greedy fucking slut then so be it,” he agrees in that same lethal tone before diving in to devour you with an intense voracity you’re unprepared for. You moan loudly, hands grasping hard onto the blankets as he licks a hard swipe all the way from your twitching hole to your sensitive clit before pulling the nub into his mouth and sucking hard. He continues to lave attention on your sensitive clit even as he shoves two fingers into your dripping cunt and starts setting a brutal pace. Eventually he brings his free hand to take over for his mouth and stimulate your clit while he moves his tongue to join his fingers, stuffing you absolutely full. The attention is almost overwhelming and it isn’t long until you’re seeing stars, crying out Katsuki’s name. As you come down from your high you realize Katsuki is still pumping his fingers slowly in and out of you. “Katsu- ah!” you cut yourself off with a shout as he resumes massaging your swollen clit. “S-slow down,” you moan but if anything it only makes him move his fingers more aggressively. You grit your teeth, grasping the blankets even more tightly. “What’s wrong? Thought you wanted this,” he taunts as he pushes you into your second orgasm of the night.

Your entire body is tingling now, thoughts filled only with Katsuki, but he still hasn’t stopped and you’ve never been so overstimulated in your life. “Kas’ki ‘s too much,” you moan, eyes watering as he continues to relentlessly massage your almost painfully sensitive clit. “Don’t tell me my greedy little slut is done already. I still haven’t filled you up yet,” he teases you as he finally removes his finger only to line his dick up with your entrance instead. “Come on baby, I think you’ve got one more in you. Don’t you want to be good for me?” he asks and every inch of your body is saying that you should tap out but instead you find yourself nodding. “Use your words baby.” “Wanna be good for you,” you pant and the devilish grin you get in response has your heart practically in your throat. Slowly but surely Bakugo starts pushing into you. It’s so much, too much, stimulation but even as tears start to run down your cheeks you can’t bring yourself to tell him to stop. He curses under his breath as he finally bottoms out inside you, taking a moment to collect himself so it won’t be over too soon. As he starts moving he lavishes you with praise while all you can do is whine and whimper, alternating between barely intelligible expressions of how fucking good it all feels and broken cries of his name. “God you look so fucking beautiful like this. You know that? Fucking gorgeous,” he groans as his hips move faster and faster. You can tell when he’s close, his rhythm starting to get sloppier. “You ready to give me that third one baby? Can you do that for me?” he asks and you nod frantically, coasting along that razor thin edge between pleasure and pain. He leans down to kiss you then, swallowing each broken sound you make, as he rocks into you harder and harder until you’re both too strung out to do much more than pant and breathe into each other’s mouths. You topple over the ledge first but Katsuki isn’t far behind, your walls fluttering and clenching around him. You sob out his name one final time as praises pour from his lips about how perfect you were for him. “Knew you could do it for me princess. So good for me,” he sighs as he continues to paint your insides white.

When Bakugo is finally spent, he rolls over and practically collapses next to you. You both have to take a minute to recover, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Unsurprisingly, Bakugo recovers first so he carefully pulls back the covers before bringing them back up to drape over the two of you. “You good?” he asks, eyes scanning over your body as if trying to catalogue any damage he might’ve done. “More than good,” you sigh contentedly. “Good. C’mere,” he commands and you’re more than happy to oblige, allowing him to pull you against his chest. He carefully wipes the tears away from your cheeks before wrapping you more fully into his arms. “I take back what I said,” you mumble into his chest, exhaustion creeping in as the steady beat of his heart starts to lull you to sleep. “What are you on about now?” he asks, but the fondness in his tone belies the harshness of his words. “You’re fucking amazing at apologies,” you mumble. “Shut up and go to sleep dumbass,” he replies but you can practically hear the pleased smirk in his voice.

“Goodnight Katsuki.”

“Goodnight Princess.”

A/N: Apologies are difficult for Bakugo. He’s a very actions speak louder than words kinda guy. Also as funny a trope as the whole “forced to share one bed at a hotel/motel cause there are no other rooms” trope is, it’s more meaningful to me if there are two beds and they still choose to share.

Taglist: @pixelwisp @oliviasslut @larkspyrr @heroacadema @kozukatsuki @captaincyberqueen @undead-nyx @ineedtofocusfr @i-heart-fictional-boys

[desertofsnowflakes]

Incorrect Order Chapter 2 (Nessian AU)

A/N: DO inform me if you wanna be added/removed from the taglist! If you happen to find my storyline similar to another fic or one of yours, I'm extremely sorry, I might've just not known. All characters belong to the author Sarah J. Mass. Enjoy!

Summary: Don't first impressions always affect the way you see someone? Well, what more with the Nesta Archeron? Nesta meets Cassian at few unexpected places and to say it didn't go well was a major understatement. Certain circumstances make them become enemies to tolerable company to friends to lovers.

Trigger Warnings: Abuse and Swearing

1957 words | Part 1 | Read on AO3

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Cassian was waiting. And waiting. And waiting. He waited for the day he would forget the woman’s face. He waited for the day he could close his eyes without seeing her blue-grey eyes blazing in anger. He waited for the day he wouldn’t burn his bacon because he was thinking about her.

He had mused, how the face of a stranger was branded into his mind vividly. He would be lying if he said he hadn’t wondered if they’ve known each other before or have seen each other somewhere, anywhere before the day in the mall—even if on photographs or at an event or at another shopping mall. Still, he desperately wanted to forget about her. He wanted to forget that she ever existed. He wanted to forget their encounter in the mall that day. He wanted to forget everything about her, even though deep down, he knew what he wanted was far from forgetting her.

But he couldn’t afford this. He couldn’t afford to think about her at all times. He was getting distracted at work. His part-time job as a martial-arts instructor and as a sommelier was in a precarious position if it went on like this. He nearly tore one of his student’s muscles in his centre and got at least 5 orders wrong at the restaurant he was working at.

On a Saturday noon, Cassian decided the best way to clear his head was to dive into a war book or reread Secrets Of The Sommeliers for probably the millionth time.

* * *

Nesta flinched at the sudden ping of the oven timer. Again. She’d been thinking about him again. This was the fourth time in the whole week when she burned her cheese sandwich and she was getting so tired of this. She urgently needed a way to stop thinking about him. To stop seeing his insufferable grin whenever she closed her eyes. To stop thinking about him at almost all times.

It struck her as odd, the fact they didn’t even know each other’s names but she kept seeing his face as if they’ve known each other before. She gasped. What if they had known each other before? What if they were probably neighbours from Nesta’s old house or classmates or maybe they went to the same college. Nesta shook her head.

But why should she care? No, she doesn’t care. She doesn’t care what his name is or if he even has a name. She doesn’t care if she’s had the misfortune of seeing him before or if that was the first she’s seeing him. Or so she kept telling herself. She couldn’t afford to have him occupy her thoughts. She had better things to do. But all these excuses weren't enough to stop her from still thinking about him.

Nesta looked at her clock. It was a Saturday, almost noon. Maybe reading a spicy book or two will help.

* * *

Cassian loved the House of Wind library and bookstore. They had a variety of books in almost any genre. He'll admit though, that some of the librarians here are better left alone. He was lucky he came here often and therefore knew a handful of the merrier librarians. He made a beeline for his favourite section, books related to wine, best books for sommeliers.

On his way to the shelves he had committed to memory, he realised that there was a big poster about their annual Free Premium Membership Fest where 20 fortunate, early birds would get their membership card updated to premium with a number of privileges. Cassian's whole being was elevated. He missed the last fest they held and had been waiting for the next fest. He wondered how he could forget such an important thing. Oh. Right. Of course. A certain lady was occupying his thoughts. He sighed. He forgot about that too.

He was quite disappointed when he reached the counter. The fest started yesterday and the computer stated that there was only one person left till 20. What truly disappointed him was that Clotho wasn't at the counter as she usually was. Maybe she'll be in the—

“If you're done staring at the computer maybe you could deign to move so it can really serve its purpose of being a public property?” Cass froze. He'd know that voice anywhere. This was the voice taunting him at all times. “And if you have coffee in your hands, I'd suggest you turn slowly.”

He smirked. So she knew who she was talking to.

“Well, looks like the damage would be lesser this time since your clothes aren't white,” he observed.

“I figured black would hide stains caused by ogling, clumsy people better than white,” she said. “Now, if you could move, I want to register for the Membership Fest.”

“Register? What do you mean by ‘I want to register for the Membership Fest’?”

“A register, you know,” she teased, “Something like a form where you fill your details if you want to join something?” She smirked at his glare.

“Well,” he said, “if there is a register let me fill it first.”

“Because your ego is bigger?”

“Ha-ha, very funny,” he dead-panned. “I came here first.”

“Here as in the counter or the library? Because I’m pretty sure I stepped into this library first.”

Cassian quickly checked the database where the information of all members appeared. He turned back to her with a self-satisfied smirk. “The database shows otherwise, sweetheart.”

She scowled. “I don’t believe you. You might’ve tampered with the information.”

He moved slightly to the side to give her a better view. Her scowled deepened.

She rounded on him. “You,” seethed. “You did—”

“Hello,” a new, shy voice said.

“Hey, Gwyn,” they both said in symphony.

A look of surprise crossed over her features before it faded away. When the woman turned to Gwyn, she wore a huge smile. “Oh, look, she smiles,” he muttered, earning him a glare.

“Is the fest still on?” Cassian asked.

Gwyneth Berdara, one of the joyful librarians here, said, “Unfortunately, not. We just got our 20th member.”

Cassian’s face fell. He noticed the same of the woman too. Gwyn, always the optimistic one, said cheerfully, “Maybe we could reserve one for the both of you next year?”

They both murmured their assent before Gwyn offered her farewell and went back to the staffroom.

The woman turned back to him. “This is all your fault,” she hissed and stalked out of the library, leaving Cassian more confused than ever.

* * *

Nesta went to the library to find solace or at least a semblance of it. Seeing the man there, however, left Nesta more rattled than she would care to admit. Rattled, and angry. Angry at the universe for giving them these unfortunate encounters. Angry at him for following her wherever she went. Angry at herself for feeling such futile emotions. Angry at her body for reacting to him.

She was also upset that she didn’t get a free premium member cr

Nesta was so occupied with her thoughts and emotions that she didn’t realise she was taking the wrong route. She wasn’t familiar with this part of Velaris. She also didn’t realise she was being followed. It was distinct, the sound of hushed breathing, of the soft thuds of footfalls. The footsteps sounded heavier which most probably meant it was a man. She couldn’t really be sure, though. This was a person who was not experienced in stalking but was trying hard enough.

Nesta knew she shouldn’t panic but couldn’t help the bout of fear that crashed through her. Nesta tried to stay calm. She tried to make sure she didn't quicken her pace. She tried, cauldron, she really did. But her fear was slowly overpowering her senses. She felt the urge to run away from her stalker.

But that wouldn’t be wise. Running away from her stalker isn’t a good choice. It wasn’t smart. Who’s to know he wasn’t armed? What if he was faster than her? What if her stalker was faster than her? He might be stronger too. He could over power her and cage her in. She didn’t even know what his motive was.

Then, Nesta made a ridiculously huge, dumb mistake. She turned to an abandoned alley. At least it looked abandoned. She let out a frustrated breath. Running away was at least better than getting stuck in an alley. So much for ‘that wouldn't be wise’. She looked around, trying to get a sense of where she was or if there were any means of escape, however meager it might be.

Suddenly, she was slammed to the alley wall. The rough cold stone was unforgiving and unyielding under her cheek. Her windpipe was closed off and she was struggling to get some air in. She fought to get free but her captor —a man, as she guessed— was too strong. Somehow, his hands felt familiar to her. As if she were long acquainted with this person’s touch.

“What do you want?” she gasped out.

He chuckled, the sound grating through her very bones.

“My little Nesta,” he whispered, his hot breath ghosting the shell of her ear. “Ever the stubborn one.”

That voice. It was one that she couldn’t forget as hard as she tried. Tomas Mandray, her ex-boyfriend, was someone not easily forgotten.

“Tomas,” she said. She couldn’t bring herself to be nice. Not now, not after how he treated her. “What the fuck do you want? Let me go.”

“I see you haven’t changed at all.”

“I can say the same of you.”

“Mhm. You broke up with me and then you called the police. Got me stuck behind bars for two fucking months.”

“Good riddance,” she muttered.

He slammed her head against the wall. Hard. Blinding pain shot through her. He yanked her hair so hard she was afraid chunks of it came out. Her head only throbbed harder.

“Manners were never your cup of tea,” he hissed.

“You were not that kind either. You were an empowering, possessive bastard and I don’t regret watching you grovel to the police for freedom for one fucking moment and I won’t ever.”

He growled and slammed her head against the wall again. She cried out and was pretty sure she heard something crack. She felt the metallic tang of blood on her lips, streaming from her nose freely.

“Oh, you will. You’ll regret everything. Every. Single. Thing. For your whole god-damned life. I’ll make sure of it, bitch,” he promised.

He tightened his grip on her hair that sent another wave of agony through her. She caught the glint of something in the fading sunlight. A knife. Of course he had a knife.

He had a knife while she was a mess, kneeling on an alley, completely at the mercy of one of the people who hated her the most. Pathetic. So, so, pathetic. She hated herself for whimpering. She hated herself for being this weak. She hated that she had gotten panicked enough that she turned to an alley, where no one would know.

Here, in this unknown alley, with the person she hated the most, Nesta Archeron was going to die. She was going to die a death as unknown as the place she was in. Maybe even without her sisters knowing. Shit. Her sisters. If only she showed all her love to sweet Elain and brave Feyre, if only she even went to meet her brother-in-laws, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, maybe things would’ve been different. She closed her eyes, fighting the emotion in her throat. I’m sorry Elain, Feyre, Rhysand, Azriel and Cassian, I’m so, so sorry, was the last thing in her head before she felt acute pain and succumbed to the dragging talons of oblivion.

taglist:

@im-someone-i-guess @shadowsinger07 @saltyfortunes @cressjacquine @julian-blackthorn-supremacy @champanheandluxxury @zemiraa @ladygabrielli1997 @nehemikkele

[tulipjeanohare]

Untitled

PAIRING: EZ Reyes x OC (Sloane)

NOTES: I wrote this during Season 2 and just never shared it but I’ve been wanting to get back into writing. SO, I hope you guys enjoy and I’d love feedback!

WARNING: Mature Themes.

Credit to the person who made the gif @shadesalvarez

WORD COUNT: 6, 370

It was another typical Friday night at the bar; the place was packed wall to wall, a new band was perched on the stage performing a set list of songs she’d never remember, and the regular unfavorable drunks were crowding the bar top. Just another weekend wasted working behind the bar when she’d much rather be somewhere else doing just about anything other than this. The bar wasn’t that bad, really. But it wasn’t what she wanted. It paid the bills and that was all that mattered to her as a single mother.

There was never time for men and she was fine with that. Her son didn’t need any other men dropping in and out of his life. That much she were sure of. So she lived the monotonous life that she had grown accustomed to the last few years. During the week she worked at a local art museum in an attempt to keep her passion for art alive while she couldn’t afford to actually make any then the weekend came and she spent her nights slinging drinks for every lowlife that decided to slither into the dimly lit hole in the wall bar off the highway.

It wasn’t as bad as it seemed, she had regulars that she loved seeing and for the most part everyone kept their hands to themselves and tipped rather well. The whole single mother thing did work to her advantage from time to time. But every now and then some idiot would come in trying to impress whatever frat friends he had drug along with him and made a pass at her. She could normally handle herself pretty well but when they got too aggressive she defaulted to the gruff, muscular man they’d hired to work security.

Tonight was no exception to any of this.

Earlier in the evening she had dropped her son off at her friend’s house and gave him an extra long hug. Promised him she’d see him bright and early in the morning and she was off. It never got any easier to leave him; he was four now and was the smartest kid she’d ever met, she might be a little biased but it was true. Those big brown eyes of his melted her heart every time he gave her the same sad puppy dog face before she left. She knew he was fine there. He loved her friend, she was like family to the both of them. But she still hated to leave him to go deal with a bunch of overly macho men for hours on end.

By the time she got to the bar the place was already crowded and the band had already started to play. As quickly as she could she made her way behind the bar and dumped her bag and jacket in the backroom before making her way to her first customer of the night.

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

EZ had taken off from the clubhouse almost two hours ago without a plan in his mind of exactly where he was going. All he knew was that he needed some space. He needed to forget the life he’d chosen for just a few hours and pretend he wasn’t the man he’d become. The loud engine of the motorcycle roared in his ears as he passed a big black sign reading ‘Big Al’s Roadside Bar, Next Exit’.

That’ll have to do, he thought to himself.

When he pulled into the gravel lot in front of the building there wasn’t a single motorcycle in sight and he felt a weight lift from his shoulders he didn’t know had been there. Before he headed inside he took off the leather cut with his name stitched on one side and shoved it into the bag on the side of his bike. There was no reason for anyone here to know who he was or that he ran with any club.

His watch read half past eleven when he entered the door. Enough time for him to have a couple drinks and maybe make his way to that motel he'd noticed just up the road. The place was loud and the people were crowded inside like a can of sardines so he figured his best bet would be to make himself at home up at the bar, hide himself in the corner there and get a little drunk.

Once he reached the bar though he was a little more than surprised to see such a beautiful woman behind it. All the bars in Santo Padre either had weathered old ladies behind them or former inmates he’d probably seen in passing during his time inside. The woman behind this bar was far more beautiful than anyone he’d seen back home in a long time. She had thick mess of black hair that fell well past her shoulders, he watched as she pulled it back into a bun at the nape of her neck.

She looked real. Not like the girls who hung around the clubhouse in hopes of becoming someone’s old lady. Her face was bare except for the gloss that created a sheen on her plump lips. Lips he’d pay good money to kiss. The black jeans she had on hugged her every curve so tightly he couldn’t help but stare when she turned to hand another bar patron their drink. The T-shirt she wore had the Virgin Mary printed on the front, exactly like the statue that sat inside the clubhouse in Santo Padre, but he was sure if wasnt some funny pun for her because he’d noticed the delicate cross necklace hanging around her neck. One arm had a smattering of tattoos he couldn’t quite make out while the other seemed bare.

It hadn’t occurred to him that he’d been staring at her until she turned to him, blowing a stray strand of hair out of her face before leaning her palms against the bar top, “you wanna order something or are you just gonna stare at me all night?”

“Shit, sorry,” he quickly answered.

A laugh fell from her lips, a laugh that rang over the music. It was sweet and soft, no malice behind it. It made EZ’s shoulders relax a little. “S’ok...not the worst anyone has ever done in this bar. Long day?”

“You could say that,” EZ replied.

Without a word she nodded, reached under the bar for a cold beer and popped the top off before sliding it across the table to him. “Nothing an ice cold beer can’t help, right?”

“Amen,” he smiled, reaching in his pocket for some cash.

Before taking it the bartender eyed it for a second, “you wanna just open a tab?”

“Nah, I’ll take it one beer at a time,” he assured her.

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

The rest of the night went off as usual; the same guys sidled up to the bar to grab her attention for a few quick moments before another pushed his way up to her. But there was one thing that was different tonight. The guy at the end of the bar.

He wasn’t like the others. His eyes were kind and he spoke with more eloquence than any man she’d met in her entire life had. He was polite and quiet, a god send on a night like tonight. So she spent a little more time at his end of the bar than any other. Any time he would finish a beer she was sure to be right there with a fresh one and he would hand her another handful of bills.

One beer at a time.

Things were beginning to quiet down at one when it happened.

She was wiping down the bar top at the other end of the bar when a new guy took a seat. He leaned over a little too close for comfort when she asked him what he wanted. Then when she handed him the class of brown liquor he’d asked for he grabbed her hand in his, which she quickly shook herself free of.

EZ took notice of the interaction. He’d been nursing another beer, trying to decide if it was time for him to head to that motel when he saw the guy grab hold of her hand. He felt himself begin to react before she shook her arm free, scowling at the guy before walking back down towards him.

“You alright,” he asked, his voice low so only she could hear.

A smile crept across her lips as she nodded, letting her elbows rest on the wood top while she leaned over it. “I get five of those guys a night...that’s nothing. I appreciate your concern though...I never got your name.”

“EZ,” he smiled, those pearly white teeth of his on full display.

Standing there across the bar from him, a mere few inches from him, she felt like her heart skipped a beat. There’s got to be a catch here, she thought to herself. “EZ? Interesting,” she smiled, holding her hand out for him. “I’m Sloane, nice to officially meet you.”

When he took her hand in his she could feel the slight blush creeping up her cheeks. She hoped to god he couldn’t see it in the dim lighting in the bar. But the rough, calloused feeling of his palm against hers felt nice. A sign of a real man.

And EZ got a rush of electricity through him as he held her hand in his. He could smell her perfume wafting in front of him when she leaned in closer to him. It was like a field of fresh flowers on a breezy day. “That’s a nice name, it suits you,” EZ said softly.

Before either of them could say anything else someone at the other end of the bar was shouting for her. Quickly she gave him an apologetic look before making her way to the person.

Once again EZ was tempted to watch her; the way she moved was so easy, like she was doing a dance every time she’d spin around to grab a bottle of liquor or reach one way or the other for a glass. The same piece of hair kept falling in her face until she finally pulled the hair tie from her hair and let it fall at her shoulders. Somehow it made her even more beautiful to him. The dark mess of hair she’d had pulled back before now framed her face. Every now and then she’d tuck a piece behind her ear before it fell again.

The way he was feeling towards this new stranger in front of him was different. It had been a long time since he’d felt any sort of way about a woman. His mind had been stuck on one in particular and it was becoming more and more evident that nothing was ever going to happen with them again.

She wasn’t Emily but deep down he felt like she might be better than Emily.

Just as he was getting lost in his thoughts he noticed the same guy from before giving her a hard time. But this time he had a hold of her forearm, hard enough that her skin was white where his hand held to her. He gave her a few seconds, waiting for her to pull free of him again or for the bouncer to jump in but nothing like that happened. The guy kept holding onto her and she was getting more and more agitated as the interaction went on.

“Let go of me right now,” she all but shouted at the guy.

He rolled his eyes, leaning in closer to her, “oh come on, stop playing hard to get and just let me take you home.”

Before she was able to get another word out EZ had his hand on the guys arm and was almost chest to chest with him. “Let her go before I make you,” he said, his already deep voice seeming to drop another octave.

Now it was a tangle of arms in the middle of them. EZ holding tightly to his while the guy still kept his hold on Sloane. And the next thing she knew the drunk guy was headbutting EZ and lunging towards him. With her arm now free her eyes darted around the room in search of her back up, the guy that was generally posted up at the end of the bar to keep his eye on her was nowhere to be found. All she could do now was hope it didn’t get too out of hand.

EZ took a quick swing at the guy and landed his fist right on his chin, knocking the guy back a couple steps. But that didn’t stop him from going at her new friend again; swinging with all his might in hopes of landing something. It was clear to Sloane that this wasn’t EZ’s first fight, he knew what he was doing but the other guy was way in over his head with too much testosterone and alcohol running through him to tell him to stop while he was ahead.

A few more punches had the guys lip bleeding and his already wobbly footing worse. By that time the bouncer had made his way back to the bar and quickly grabbed hold of the swinging drunk and started to cart him out of the bar. He turned to yell at the other man that he’d be back for him but she stopped him, “let him be, he was just stepping in to stop that guy. He’s fine.”

The bouncer glanced from his bartender then to the muscular man standing just a few feet from him, not a single bead of sweat on him. All he could do was nod and continue kicking the other man out of the place.

“You really didn’t have to do that,” Sloane shook her head, trying to conceal the smile attempting to break across her face.

As much as she hated having anyone thinking they needed to defend her honor she had to admit that it was really hot seeing him land that punch. And his body hadn’t looked bad doing so either.

She pulled another bottle of beer from the ice and handed it to him, “this one's on me, as a thank you.”

“You don’t have to,” he started.

Shaking her head she pushed the money he’d started to hand to her back his way, “I’m not taking no for an answer.”

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

The band had long since vacated the stage and people were filing out of the bar by the time EZ had decided it was time to leave. Sloane had been a breath of fresh air for him and he didn’t want to have to head out any sooner than he had to. But he figured she wanted to get the place cleaned and clock out so he’d dropped some cash on the bar top for a tip and started for the door. But soon he heard her familiar voice call out to him.

“Hey,” she shouted, her voice carrying over the soft music playing from above. “How do you feel about a couple drinks...back at my place?”

EZ wasn’t sure he heard her right. Sure, she’d given him a little more attention than any of the other bar goers tonight but he hadn’t even for a second thought she’d ask him back to her place. The room felt a lot quieter as he stumbled with his words, completely caught off guard. “Uh, yeah, yeah...that actually sounds great.”

“Give me ten minutes,” she replied before bouncing off to wipe down the tables scattered around.

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

The two of them fell into an easy rhythm on the drive to Sloane’s place, both of them eager to hear the other’s voice no matter what they were saying. Every now and then she’d catch his gaze lingering a little longer than he’d intended for her to see and it gave her those familiar butterflies from earlier in the night. She was having an internal battle with herself though; this is so stupid...what do you thinks going to come of this, she’d hear the voice in her head ask. But she didn’t care. It had been years since she’d had any kind of relationship with a man, one night would be good for her.

So, a fifteen minute drive later and they were pulling up to the front of her apartment building and he was following her closely up the stairs. To be fair he wanted to press her up against her door the minute they hit it but he restrained himself, he wanted to let the night last as long as possible. He was enjoying himself. Enjoying not thinking about his life back home.

“Place might be a little messy,” she told him, kicking her shoes to the side as soon as she stepped inside with EZ following suit.

While she busied herself in the kitchen searching for the liquor EZ wandered around the living room, taking everything in. The place was immaculate except for a few toys strewn about on the floor; a small blue blanket with cars all over it tossed over the side of the couch hastily, a tiny plastic easel in the corner with a freshly done finger painting clipped to it. Next to it was a larger one with the beginnings of an incredible, vibrantly colored painting.

“You have a son,” he asked, his voice carrying to Sloane in the kitchen as she grabbed a couple glasses.

Biting her lip she nodded, placing the glasses on the coffee table in front of the couch before making eye contact with him. “Yeah, he’s the one guy in my life,” she beamed. “Just turned four last month, he stays with my best friend while I work at the bar on the weekend. Is it weird?”

“Nah, I love kids,” EZ smiled. “Dad in the picture?”

Sloane shook her head, pouring some of the brown liquor into the glasses. “No, it’s probably for the best anyways. We make a pretty good little duo. What about you?”

“Just me,” he said, wincing a little as the hard liquor stung the back of his throat. “Pretty close with my pops...and my brother.”

It was tempting for her to question the little pause he made before he mentioned his brother but she didn’t think it was any of her business having only just met him a few hours ago. She felt so at ease with him though she almost asked, it was on the tip of her tongue to say something but she held back. The smile that lingered at the corner of his lips told her there was good there.

The two of them sat side by side on the floor in front of the couch; the coffee table pushed out a little to give them more room, their bodies turned towards each other so they could talk, the brown liquor getting less and less in the bottle. There had been a handful of moments where EZ had wanted make a move. To rest his hand on her thigh or tuck a piece of her hair behind her ear before leaning in for a kiss. But he wanted to hear more about her and her life and everything about her.

He was enthralled.

And so was she.

She could see the kindness in his eyes. Past the bruise under his left eye and the cut on his cheek there was more to him. When they had left the bar she’d noticed the motorcycle and wanted to ask him about it but she decided not to. There was probably something there she wouldn’t like and tonight she just wanted to have fun. Every time he made even the slightest move the veins in his forearms shifted just the slightest bit and it made her think of how it would feel to have those arms wrapped around her body. Then he’d speak and she was enticed by the deepness to his voice, the diction in the wash he spoke was nothing like she’d heard around there before. The guys there wouldn’t know how to string an intelligible sentence together if their lives depended on it.

EZ was different.

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

Sloane rested her head on the chest of the new man in her bed. One arm of his slung around her waist while his hand gently stroked her hair, tucking a strand behind her ear. She let her hand rest on his abdomen before she let her fingers trace lines down the center of his stomach. He was all muscle and she could feel it while he was on top of her, the way his body weighted over her as they moved in rhythm together.

The room was silent except for the heaviness of their breathing. EZ felt chills run up his spine the way she tucked her leg over his bare thigh while they laid there. Her soft skin felt like silk against his and he wanted to stay like this for as long as possible. If he closed his eyes long enough he could still see her silhouette above him in the dark room. He could envision the way her hips moved back and forth as she rode him. His fingers holding tightly to her hips until he finally pulled her down close to him so he could nip and kiss at her skin.

For a second he leaned down and pressed a kiss into the crown of her hair, a simple gesture that spoke volumes, before he spoke. “Ezekial,” he said quietly.

“Huh,” she questioned, turning so she could rest her chin on his chest.

The outline of his face just visible in the moonlight pouring in through the closed blinds. “That’s my name. My full name. Ezekial.”

“I like that,” a smile spread across her face and she wasn’t sure why. She turned her face to nuzzle her nose against his bare shoulder before peppering his skin with a few quick kisses. “Ezekial.”

EZ loved the way his name sounded coming off her lips. The raspiness in her voice and the way he could almost hear her smile as she said it. He’d heard it countless times before but it felt special when she said it.

After a few more silent minutes she got up to use the bathroom and he leaned over to grab his boxers, sliding them on before he turned the bedside lamp on. The bathroom door was left open a crack and he could just barely see her naked frame moving in front of the mirror before she pulled his shirt on over her head. His eyes wandered down her body as she walked back into the bedroom, the shirt of his clinging to her curves and just stopping below her ass.

“You’re incredible,” he grinned, reaching his hand out to her as she moved to the side of the bed.

She couldn’t help but smile back at him. Not because of the compliment but because of the way his face lit up as he said it. The laugh lines next to his eyes crinkled as his smile widened and it made his deep brown eyes even more endearing than they already were.

Thoughtlessly she let him take her hand in his and pull her down onto him on the bed. Her legs rested on either side of him as he let her sit in his lap, his hands resting at the small of her back. If he had it his way this night wouldn’t ever end. He hadn’t thought about the club or his brother or Emily all night and it felt like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders.

“Where’d they make you,” she asked with a hint of a laugh in her voice. “You’re...different. Good different.”

He didn’t answer her with words. He simply just wrapped his arms tighter around her and pulled her into his chest before he pressed his lips against hers once more. There wasn’t any hesitation there; her lips parted to allow his tongue to slide across her bottom lip before they let themselves get lost in the kiss. Sloane’s mind wandered back to earlier in the night after they’d finished their whiskey and their bodies had somehow moved closer and closer to one another where they sat. She could see his eyes move to her lips every now and then while they talked and she wanted to beg him to kiss her about a hundred times before he actually did.

And once he finally did they were quickly moving to the bedroom. Her bedroom she hadn’t shared with anyone but her son in a very, very long time. They’d stumbled down the hallway attached at the lips before he finally grabbed ahold of her and pressed her up against the wall. Her legs wrapped around his waist instinctively as they both yearned to be closer to each other.

“Is this okay,” EZ had asked, his lips trailing down her neck while his hands held tightly to her back side.

It had made her smile; it had been a very long time since any man had ever asked her permission for anything let alone this. So she had placed her hands on either side of his face and pulled his attention back to her face before speaking. All she said was a breathless yes before they stumbled their way to the bedroom.

By the time Sloane was able to pull herself back to reality, back from her thoughts Ezekiel had flipped her onto her back and was pushing his shirt up over her chest to let his mouth wander over her breasts. A shiver shot through her at the feeling of his soft lips kissing and sucking at her skin. She let her fingers run over the smooth buzzcut of his as he traveled farther and farther down her body until she could feel his warm breath between her thighs.

Before they had both been so hungry for each other all they wanted to do was get off and quickly. But now they wanted to take their time. EZ wanted to explore her body; he wanted to hear the way she’d moan the first time she felt his tongue on her, he wanted to know how it felt to have her body wrapped around his while they made love. Sloane wanted to hear his gruff voice whispering to her while he was inside her, to feel the weight of his strong body on top of hers once more.

The room had fallen silent except for the sound of the shaky breaths she was taking as he gave his full attention to her core. His tongue lapped at her lips teasingly before she felt his teeth graze the sensitive little nub tucked inside. A whiney moan escaped her, her back arching at the new sensation. His hands held tightly to her thighs with his face buried between them for what felt like an eternity and by the time he pulled back her entire body was shaking on the edge of an intense orgasm.

“Ezekiel...please,” she almost pleaded with him.

A smile curled at the corners of his mouth before he peppered the inside of her thigh with kisses, “be patient, baby.”

And she tried to stop herself from letting out the sound that came next but she couldn’t help herself. The moan was throaty and full of lust, her lips parted perfectly and bright cherry red from how she’d been biting on the bottom lip. Hearing him call her baby was more than enough to encourage her to hold off for him. If she was honest she’d do just about anything for him right now.

Once more his lips trailed her skin but this time he was heading upwards, leaving the spot between her legs he’d made himself at home at and making his way to her breasts. The pink colored skin of her nipples was pebbled and hard from just the light nibbles he was giving her skin. But he hadn’t forgotten about her needs; while his mouth made quick work of her nipples he let one hand slip between her thighs and slipped two fingers inside of her which elicited a sharp intake of breath from her.

Her body writhed underneath him in an attempt to hurry along her orgasm because she knew once she came like this he’d been inside of her. And her body felt like every inch of her was on fire the way he was working her core with just his fingers. The tips of his calloused fingers were gliding over her gspot repetitively while his thumb rubbed back and forth over her clit.

Just as her back began to arch off the sheets below her EZ moved his attention from her chest up to her neck and then let his lips rest against her earlobe before he spoke. “Can you come for me,” he whispered, his free hand caressing her side.

In her head she had a witty line to reply with but she couldn’t get it out. The wires were crossed because her body was in overdrive the way he was fucking his fingers into her. So she settled on a lot of eye contact and a quick, almost pleading, nod of the head.

“Good girl,” he cooed.

At that her legs began to shake and she let her nails dig into his bare back as she began to hit her climax. A few throaty moans broke the silence in the room before he pressed his lips to hers, letting his mouth swallow her audible pleasure as she came down.

For a few short moments the two of them laid there tangled together allowing each other to cool off. But she could feel how hard he was as his erection pressed into her hip. Without a word she slipped her hand between the two of them and slowly stroked him, his hips absentmindedly working in motion with her hand. “I need you,” she breathed, pressing her lips to his temple.

They both knew one of them should’ve reached for a condom. It wasn’t anything new to either of them to use protection but they couldn’t be bothered in this moment. Both of them ached to feel that closeness between the two of them again. They each wanted to feel the slow movements of the other while they were so intimately joined together. Before had been quick and sloppy. But this, this was going to be slow and needy for both of them.

They hadn’t spoken of it but they both knew the other needed this intimacy. He was looking to forget his life back home for a while and she was holding off on reality herself. She wanted to remember what it felt like to have a man’s gentle touch, to be with someone who wanted to be with her.

EZ lifted his head until their foreheads were resting against one another, his nose grazing the tip of hers as he repositioned himself between her legs. He pushed her legs wider with his muscular thighs, his cock grazed her lips for a second before he slowly slide inside of her.

In unison they both let out shaky moans; her hands gripped onto his biceps as he hovered above her, their faces still touching. His eyes studied her face for a few more moments before he began working his hips against hers. The soft sound of skin on skin filling the quiet bedroom. One hand of his slipped beneath her to grab hold of her backside while the other slide up her neck until it was placed just under her chin, the slightest amount of pressure applied.

“Ezekial,” she sighed, her lips curling into a smile at the feeling of his hand around her neck.

He had to clinch his jaw to keep his composure. Hearing his name fall from her lips like that, with the visual of his hand where it was placed was too much for him. And the way her body moved in rhythm with his as he fucked her slowly only made him more sensitive. To keep his mind occupied, to hold himself off as long as possible, he busied himself kissing up her jawine until he buried his face into the crook of her neck. The faint smell of her perfume lingered there.

Sloan let her eyes flutter closed as he allowed himself to rest on top of her, bringing them closer together as they fucked. One leg hooked behind him to keep them close while her hands held tightly to his broad back. His skin was soft to the touch and he smelled like sandalwood, she couldn’t imagine anyone like him ever being in jail but he’d divulged that to her earlier. If it had been anyone else she would’ve ended the night but not with EZ. No, for some reason even after he told her about his past she still felt safe with him.

“You feel so fucking good,” he finally spoke again.

She smiled against his ear, nibbling at the skin, before pressing him back from her and back onto the bed. For a split second he fell from her but she quickly straddled him and guided him back to her core. A shutter went through her at the way she stretched around him. “I could do this all night,” she finally replied, her breathing uneven.

That beautiful smile of his spread across his face and she couldn’t help but smile back. Even in the darkness of the bedroom she could still see how perfect it was, she could still map out the little creases at the side of his eyes that formed when he smiled.

Resting her hands on his chest she began to buck her hips back and forth quicker now. His hands found their way to her hips and held onto her as he watched her from below, his hips working up against her. Her eyes fluttered shut and her lips parted at the feeling of him slipping deeper inside of her. EZ’s eyes were fixated on the way her breasts bounced up and down with every movement either of them made.

The tattoos that littered her skin on display as she rode him and he wanted to kiss every last one, trace them with his fingertips while they laid naked together. He wanted to know about the little one that sat on her left hip all the way up to the lotus flower at the nape of her neck.

Soon he was pulled from his thoughts when he heard her call out his name once more. This time it was needy; her brow furrowed together as her body leaned down closer to his. Instinctively he placed his hand into her mess of hair and pulled her down even closer until they were chest to chest. Again their foreheads hovered close together as he began to take control.

It was her turn to watch him as he fucked up into her in an attempt to get them both off. Short, choked moans came from both of them as they got closer and closer. She could see the neediness behind those brown eyes of his. And she could feel it in the way he was holding onto her, his fingers digging into the skin of her ass.

Slipping a hand between them she began to work her clit in time with the way he was working into her and it made her breath catch in her throat. The sudden newness of the pressure against the bundle of nerves drove her closer to the edge. And he could feel it in the way she tightened around him so suddenly.

Again they locked eyes as he fucked into her a few more quick times before he felt her tighten against him. Her mouth fell open as she let out the most lust filled moan he’d ever heard. Which only egged him on more, thrusting into her at a punishing pace until he finally released inside of her. Her lips rested against his earlobe as she let out a few more soft, whiny moans while he slowly continued to work into her.

The two of them went at it like this for the next few hours until the sun began to creep into the room through the blinds. He held her close against his chest as they spoke in hushed tones as if someone could hear what they were saying. It took everything in him to finally make himself leave her. But he knew he needed to start home or else he’d have more missed phone calls on his cell.

She pulled the sheets up over chest while she watched him pull his jeans on and search for the shirt of his she’d pulled on earlier in the night. The way his muscles moved under his clothes only made her want to pull them off again but she knew he had to leave. He had a life somewhere else and she had a son she was missing more than she realized at that moment.

“Last night was,” EZ paused, trying to think of the right word to us.

[pink-flame]

WFW, JUKE, FLOWER FIELDS 💕

One more for tonight! Well, this morning since it’s almost 3am. ANYWAY...this is a lot longer than I intended for it to be and it’s almost certainly not what you wanted when you came up with this prompt but it’s where my mind went. So in the immortal words of Luke...*ba da*! Hope you enjoy it anyway my friend! 💜

After spending months trapped in a garage in the 90s, it was the simple pleasures that really stuck out to Julie now that she was home.

Of course being reunited with her family and Flynn along with the knowledge that her boys were alive and well and hers to keep were the biggest perks of this new version of her existence. But that didn’t mean she didn’t fiercely appreciate some of the things she used to take for granted about existing in 2020.

There was the comfort and convenience of having a working cell phone, all of the best and worst parts of modern living within easy reach at all times. There was the fact that she was no longer subject to the whims of Beatrice’s radio or Bobby’s tapes when she wanted to listen to music, but could simply search up anything her heart desired on Spotify. And there were the movie nights that had been started with her and Flynn in the original 2020 but had now expanded to include Carrie and the boys in this new reality. They watched action movies, and horror and comedies all crowded around the tv in the living room, Julie often pressed up against Luke’s side, his arm sliding easily around her shoulders now that they were finally together.

Still. There were a few movies Julie didn’t bother suggesting, too embarrassed to try to introduce some of her personal favorites to the group. There were the romantic comedies she thought might make the boys roll their eyes, and the documentaries she thought might bore them, and then there was her absolute favorite movie which she was pretty sure they would find unintentionally hilarious and that would be too soul crushing to ignore. So she never suggested it, even when it was her turn to pick the movie, only pulling it up on Netflix when she was unable to sleep at night or on a rare weekend she had an afternoon to herself.

Of course, she should have known better than to think it was ever safe to think she could keep anything from Luke, even something as innocuous as her questionable taste in movies.

She was curled up in her bed one night, the only light in the room coming from the glow of her laptop as she watched her favorite comfort film for about the hundredth time when suddenly there was a sound at her window. Julie just about jumped out of her skin and barely managed to hold down the shriek that wanted to escape when she realized it was Luke whose outline had appeared in her window. She clutched at her chest as her heart slowly returned to a normal speed but she still jumped up and hurried to open the window for him, stepping aside as he slid a little clumsy down to stand on her bedroom floor.

Luke wasn’t exactly allowed to climb through her bedroom window in the middle of the night but she was also pretty sure her dad knew it happened from time to time and chose to turn a blind eye out of trust. She appreciated that usually. Not so much when her boyfriend was on the verge of giving her a heart attack.

“You couldn’t shoot me a heads up text first?” She scolded as Luke trailed after her like an eager puppy as she returned to her spot on the bed.

Sometimes she swore Luke’s soul somehow knew deep down that it was intended to exist in an era without easy communication. He had a terrible tendency not to use his cell phone unless he absolutely had to.

Luke just gave her a sheepish “sorry” before crawling onto the bed next to her, instantly curling his body around hers so she could rest her head on his chest while her eyes drifted back to the movie still playing on her laptop. She was so wrapped up both in her attempts to calm down and Luke’s arms that it didn’t hit her at first that the movie playing was the exact one she had been embarrassed to let Luke catch her watching. Which admittedly, seemed a little dumb now. If she let him see her in her monster feet slippers why should she care if he knew she liked a kind of movie Flynn had once charitably labeled “cringey”.

“Uh...Jules? I think I’ve forgotten how to speak English.”

Julie stiffened as she realized her mistake but decided the only way through was to play it cool.

“You didn’t forget how to speak English,” She assured him. “They’re not speaking English. It’s a Bollywood movie. It’s in Hindi.”

“Oh,” Luke was silent for a moment. “What’s Bollywood?”

So then Julie had to explain to him that Indian cinema (which included more than just Bollywood but she couldn’t get into all of that) produced way more movies every year than Hollywood did and that the movie they were watching Dilwale Dulhania Le Jayenge had been playing in one theater in India for 25 years straight.

“That’s...impressive,” Luke said, his eyebrows raising as he glanced back at the screen. “So what’s it about?”

So then Julie spent probably way too much time describing the love story and all of its surrounding elements to him, and then he wanted to start the movie over so he could see it from the beginning, and then she realized that she had forgotten to tell him that almost all Bollywood movies were musicals and before she knew it, it was 2am and they were only half way through the movie.

Julie couldn’t help but let an involuntary yawn escape.

Luke was clearly trying not to echo her yawn but in the end he failed.

“Bollywood movies sure are long, aren’t they?”

Julie could only nod.

She was just about to suggest he head home and they try to finish it another time when she realized her favorite scene was starting.

“Oooh, this is the best part,” She said excitedly, slapping his arm so he would pay attention.

On screen Raj and Simran ran to each other across a field of beautiful yellow flowers, embracing each other in pure joy after being separated.

Julie couldn’t help but let a little bit of a stupid smile slide onto her face. So she was a sucker for a good romantic moment, especially between a couple who the universe seemed to want to keep apart. So sue her.

“Where are these fields of just flowers?” Luke asked, breaking the moment. “I’ve never seen a whole field of flowers, have you?”

Julie sighed. That was his takeaway?

“I think they’re actually mustard plants,” She offered.

“Mustard is from a flower?” Luke said in a tone of wonder.

“It’s from the seeds and then they...you know what that’s not the point,” She grumbled, slightly annoyed with her boyfriend’s lack of affinity for the pure romanticism of it all.

Luke must have sensed her quickly fouling mood and the reason behind it because he suddenly wrapped his arms more snugly around her.

“Hey, Julie?”

“Yeah?”

“I’d run across a field of flowers to hug you any day.”

Julie didn’t reply, just snuggled further down into Luke’s arms, and returned her attention to the movie.

Maybe they could watch just a little bit more.

[jeongjaebae]

Love Station

⇢ Jaehyun x reader | AO3

⇢ 7k of fluff, heart fluttering moments, and meme references

⇢  You never expected anything good to come out of a train delay, much less for it to play cupid on this Valentine’s Day. 

Turning 23 wasn't something you were overly excited about.

Nothing good could come out of being this age anyway—you were starting to feel old and life was starting to feel stagnant. Besides, everyone's seen the meme about checking up on your friends born in a certain year because no one likes you when you're 23. But heck, you'd already felt that way for long enough so it doesn't really matter that it's your birthday today because no one liked you at 22 either. Or at any age.

Maybe that's why you're still single on this Valentine's Day, which coincidentally happens to be the date you enter your 23rd year since birth. Whatever deity that's up there probably planned this to give you a headache every year, making you watch couples all around you broadcast their PDA everywhere while you only became one year closer to growing old and wrinkly. And dying single.

"Are you on the train yet?" Yoojin's loud voice comes through the phone. "Also what are you wearing, because I'm having an outfit dilemma again."

"Almost at the station," you reply, checking the time for the sake of it. You knew your best friend would be late regardless of the occasion, so you never had to rush. "I didn't expect it to be so cold out here. Wearing the pink blouse with the bow, that black skirt, and some thin tights. Long coat of course."

Yoojin was your best friend of seven years and happened to be the complete opposite of you. While you were generally shy, she had no qualms about talking to strangers. She'd always been bold and unabashed with her opinions, attracting quite a large group of friends and enemies alike, whereas you have always stayed within your comfort zone of invisibility. And whereas you were completely dense and unlucky when it came to boys, she had a list of them long enough for the both of you.

"Tell me you at least have some tall boots on," she replies with some rustling sounds in the background as she probably flips her entire closet upside-down. "You should've gone with a warmer outfit; there won't be any boys around for you to impress! It's only your date with boring old me."

You roll your eyes and play along. "I'm dressing to impress the cute waiter, obviously," you say, "the one with the super sweet smile who looks like NCT's Doyoung." It's all made up, of course. In reality the two of you didn't have a reservation or even a restaurant in mind yet, and of course, there's obviously nobody who could ever be as cute as Doyoung.

Your best friend was all about being spontaneous and winging it, and even letting fate decide things.

"Oh you better hope that he's not out with his girlfriend tonight then," she singsongs. "Anyway, I'll go pick out an outfit now and bring a pair of leggings for you or something. Oh and before I forget, happy birthday!"

"Thanks," you say with a smile as you approach the train station. "I'll see you soon!"

It's slightly more crowded at the station than the emptiness that usually greets you at this hour, but that's not surprising since it's Valentine's Day after all, and people would have plans in the city. And just as you would expect, there are people holding big bouquets wrapped in a special paper with hearts all over it, packs of chocolates in pink and red boxes, and delicate single roses encompassed in beautiful ribbons.

It wasn't something that you felt like you were missing out on. You've never spent Valentine's Day with someone special anyway; it was always some sort of birthday celebration with friends. Until your friends started getting into relationships and then the birthday thing got pushed to different days. Either way you didn't mind because people don't need particular days to show their love for others, so Valentine's Day was all just a big marketing scam.

Or so you tell yourself.

The February air is cold and makes it hard to pry your transit card out from your wallet with your frozen fingers. When the machine nearby is finally free, that's when you go to tap your card.

"Don't."

A hand slides right in between your card and the machine, blocking it from being detected.

"Excuse me?" you automatically respond.

The first thing you notice about this annoying stranger is that he's tall, as it takes a while for you to look up to see the face of said annoying stranger. The second thing is that he's incredibly good looking. Nice skin, large eyes, and some evidence of dimples slightly visible on each cheek. A strong jaw line and sharp gaze.

But none of that matters because he better have a good explanation for you.

"Don't waste your money tapping your card. The train's been delayed and won't come until maybe an hour later."

"What? An hour? Is this some kind of joke?"

He shakes his head. "There was an announcement a few minutes ago but they'll probably repeat it soon."

"But it's not even April Fools Day," you mutter under your breath, but proceed to put your card away anyway. "Are you serious?"

That earns you a funny look from the annoying stranger, a mixture of a smile and a grimace of sorts. "Yeah, I'm really just going to go up to strangers and prank them by telling them about a train delay."

"Well, maybe if you're one of those YouTubers who go around pranking people for reactions?"

He rolls his eyes. "No, but your reaction was terrible, by the way. A two out of ten at most."

"Hey, you're the one who had to break the news to me like that!"

The corner of his mouth twitches but before he says anything back, the blare of the announcement comes on.

"Attention all passengers! Attention all passengers. The line 1 eastbound train is experiencing delays due to a technical issue on the tracks. It may be over an hour before the track can get cleared. Once again, the eastbound train is currently experiencing delays of an hour or more. We are sorry for the inconvenience."

"And there it is. Do you believe me now?" the annoying stranger asks, raising an eyebrow at you. It's not so much of an 'I told you so', but rather a sad 'welcome to the club'.

"Yeah... sorry for not taking you seriously."

"Nah, no worries," he shrugs and gives you a quick smile. The first you'd seen from him. "We're all just stuck here now."

When he turns to look at the announcement board, that's when you take the chance to really study him. He's dressed like he's walked out of a Korean drama: turtleneck and a nice formal jacket. He looks to be about your age, maybe a university student or fresh grad. Hair gelled up and parted at the side. Perfectly dressed to go on the perfect Valentine's Day date with his perfectly stunning girlfriend.

As perfect as it can be with this whole train delay issue anyway.

You follow his gaze to the announcement board and see that it now has red words everywhere, indicating all the delays of the trains. It definitely wasn't looking good. Even if Valentine's Day was nowhere close to being one of your favourite holidays, you were looking forward to at least seeing a friend on your birthday.

"Yeah, I guess so. On the one day I had plans in the city." You sigh at the thought that seeing your best friend might not be possible anymore.

 "I know the feeling," he frowns, somehow still looking just as good as before which is entirely a mystery to you, "I'm also supposed to be in the city tonight."

You nod, then pull out your phone to shoot Yoojin a quick text about the delay. The cold wind sears your hands and you yet again regret wearing so little when you knew this train station didn't have an indoor waiting area.  

"So, what are our options for getting out of here now? Do you think the buses are still running because we could probably take one?" he suggests.

The 'we' takes you by surprise, but then you realize that he's probably talking about everyone here. All of the ten or so people that are just stuck at this station in the cold for the next hour.

You grimace at the thought of dissipating his ounce of hope. "Well, the nearest bus station is all the way across town, so by the time we get there maybe the trains will have already started working."

The handsome stranger sighs. "Maybe an Uber then?"

"It'll be rush hour soon so that only works if you want to be going during the most expensive time of day using the most expensive form of transportation."

"Ah, that's true." He looks disappointed. "Hmm, if the trains don't come by the next hour, maybe I'll just head to the bus stop."

Oh how nice it would be to have a car to get there yourself.

Buzz. The phone vibrates in your pocket and you could already imagine how Yoojin would be reacting to your news. Hopefully she hadn't already started on her crazy makeup routine yet, because who knows if your meet-up could actually happen at this rate.

"It's chill, don't worry about it! I'll head to you instead. Text you when I'm near."

Sometimes Yoojin's spontaneity was just what you needed. You message her a quick thanks and then shove the phone into your pocket before your fingers freeze off.

It's quiet for a bit and you almost forget about the handsome stranger entirely until there's a crinkling sound and you find yourself staring at the rose in the pocket of his coat, the clear foil around it blowing gently in the wind. It was on the side facing away from you earlier, which is probably how you didn't notice upon first glance.

Of course, he has a girlfriend. With a face like that, who wouldn't have a girlfriend? Or boyfriend. Maybe even multiple.

"Special occasions, right?" The corners of his lips are curled as if holding back a grin, and like this his dimples are visible.

But why was he still talking to you? You figured he was probably just trying to be friendly seeing as the two of you would be stuck here for an indefinite amount of time. Maybe you'll even become all buddy-buddy by the time this ordeal finishes. While you weren't a fan of small talk or talking to strangers, it was nice to be able to have someone by your side who was experiencing the same struggles.

And besides, he clearly has a girlfriend so there was no point in writing that "strangers to lovers" fan fiction in your head.

You clear your throat. "So... Valentine's date with your girlfriend?"

"Valentine's—" he pauses for a second and you can almost see the gears turning in his head. "Right, it's Valentine's Day today. Nah, I'm celebrating my birthday instead." Then he holds up the rose up and glances at it as if he'd also forgotten about it. "And no girlfriend. This is for my cousin. Her boyfriend's overseas so it's hard for them to meet up, so I thought I would get something nice for her and keep her company."

That actually takes you off guard and causes you to replay the words in your mind to make sure you heard correctly.

"Wait, it's your birthday today? Really?"

He gives you a strange look. "Yeah, there are actually people born on Valentine's Day, believe it or not."

"That's not what I meant—"

"I'm just kidding." His eyes twinkle in amusement. "It's also your birthday today, isn't it?"

"What—how did you know?"

He chuckles. "Your reaction said everything."

"Wow, someone is a smartie."

"What about you? Valentine's or birthday date with your boyfriend?"

"Best friend," you correct him. "And yeah, it's a birthday dinner."

"That's nice. I've actually never met anyone else with a Valentine's Day birthday."

"Honestly, same."

His eyes curve up into crescents as he smiles with his entire body, and it's dazzling and is so bright that it makes you want to stare for just a moment longer. The two of you laugh for a while at that coincidence, still amazed.

"So, how old are you turning?"

You groan, "The age where no one likes you."

"Ah, I just passed that." He wrinkles his nose as if remembering how terrible a year it was. "But hey, can't have no one liking you at that age if no one liked you anyway."

His words immediately put an image of that roll safe meme into your head and you find yourself laughing.

"Wow, those are my thoughts exactly."

The handsome stranger only gives you an innocent shrug. His meme game was on point, and that almost makes your heart flutter for a second. Almost.

Another cold breeze whips your hair into your face and blows straight through your thin tights, making you shiver.

"Hey, um, I hope this isn't too forward... but since we're stuck here anyways for the next while, do you want to possibly go hang out in town?" He bites his lips a little, making his dimples stand out even more. "It just kind of sucks to see our birthdays go to waste like this. Only if you're comfortable with it though, but of course we'll be in public areas the entire time."

You couldn't believe your ears for the second time today.

On one hand, the logical voice in your head was screaming stranger danger because you just met him! You hadn't even exchanged more than a few sentences! On the other hand, you could already picture Yoojin telling you to never waste an opportunity, to go with the flow and live life a little recklessly. To stop waiting for a train that might never come, to stop waiting for perfectly planned moments in life that might never occur.

"So, what do you think?"

Besides, if he's not some crazy serial killer or anything along those lines, the only other danger you could possibly see was getting heartbroken. But of course there's no way you'd fall for a stranger in one day; you didn't believe in love at first sight or fate or whatever other mushy romantic cliches that movies love to portray. This would merely be a fun time between two people who happened to be stuck together because of a train delay, on a day that happened to be both of their birthdays. A simple coincidence, really.

"You know what," you smile. "Screw it. Let's go."

***

The smell of the arcade brings back memories from when you were a child—friends' birthday parties, hangouts in middle school, the occasional school trip. It had been fun as a child even though you hadn't been very good at any of the games and probably never won anything worth keeping. Looking back, you hadn't set foot in this place in years.

"We'll get the one with the most tokens," the handsome stranger—Jaehyun—says to the guy behind the counter, flashing you a smile when you raise an eyebrow at him.

Jaehyun. It had sounded so pretty when he introduced himself.

You'd been afraid that conversation would come out awkward and forced between two strangers brought together by no more than a train delay, not knowing where or when or how to start. But there was actually never a dull moment between the flow of words and laughter that made you feel as if he was someone you've known for a long time. The short walk to the arcade had been spent on reminiscing and comparing past memories of growing up in this town, brainstorming fun places and cool restaurants that you'd been to or have yet to go to, pointing at familiar buildings and telling funny stories about interesting moments spent in there.

"Come on, let's go." He leads the way into the main area where all the action is.  

The arcade still looks the same as the last time you were here, though everything seems smaller than you'd remembered it. Bright lights flashing from every machine, loud noises at every corner. So many games that you'd once thought it was impossible to play through all of them.

"Let's start with this one?" You point to the zombie shooting game. It was something that you had always wanted to try as a kid out of pure curiosity, but you'd been too scared to at the time.

"That one? Really?" He raises a brow at your suggestion. "Alright, but I bet I can beat you."

"I would also bet on you winning," you respond dully.

After choosing characters and weapons on screen, the two of you settle in your seats and finally start. It's like watching a horror movie where you expect huge jump scares at every corner except there's no music build-up or anything to warn you that a zombie might just show up. Horror was definitely not your forte but maybe he was better at handling these things than you were.

You get your answer when the first wave of zombies finally show up. Jaehyun screams. You scream.

Somehow you manage to shoot some of them by pure instinct guiding you, however your aim isn't exactly good with your eyes closed half of the time. By the time the screaming dies down and you notice that both your characters had died in the zombie battle, you finally turn to see how he's doing. The way his face is twisted in a mixture of utter shock and horror would've been something to laugh at if you hadn't been just as scared.  

"If I recall, someone said they were going to beat me at this," you tease after seeing the final score. Neither of you did particularly well, though your score somehow turned out to be much higher than his.

"You should've given me a warning that it would be this scary."

You burst out laughing at his expression. "I didn't know either!"

That's when you notice how you're clinging to each other. Your hand clutching his arm, his hand right on top of yours.

"Oops, sorry," you mutter and quickly detangle yourself from him.

"It's fine," he says with a laugh. "But yeah, those zombies were next level."

Needless to say, you guys don't go back to that game.

The arcade is quite empty on this afternoon and you're glad that most of the games are unoccupied and can be played right away. Even with everything going well so far, you still have the fear of having awkward silences and uncomfortable conversation.

It's a while later when you try again at a different shooting game, though luckily this time it isn't zombies that you're dealing with, so it isn't scary at all. It's a teamwork game this time, and what surprises you the most is just how good your teamwork turns out to be.

"To your left, in the corner."

"Phew, got him. Thanks," you reply, promptly shooting the character before he could shoot you. "Watch out—right above you."

"Got it."

It lasts a few rounds but you manage to make it to the end and finally clear the game.

Jaehyun's whole face is lit up when he turns to you. "Wow, that was awesome. Great teamwork."

He holds up both his hands for you to high-five, and just as your hands meet his, you can't help but notice the way they linger together a little longer.  

Time flies as the two of you go from game to game and you're trying your best to beat him at any game possible. While he does let you win some of the time, more often than not, he ends up winning. Though it's not like you could be upset about it at all when he looked so happy after each win, excitedly showing you his score or prize. It was definitely nice to be as carefree as kids again.

Yet there was something deeper with the adrenaline coursing through your veins and heart racing that it becomes hard to tell whether it may be from the excitement of the games, the warmth of his body right beside you as he patiently teaches you his strategies for winning, the bright smiles that seem to light up his whole face, or those damn dimples.

Why did this Valentine's boy have to be not only heartbreakingly handsome but also incredibly kind and considerate?

"Hey, you want to try one of those?" The sound of Jaehyun's voice pulls you out of your thoughts and you silently pray that you hadn't been staring at him subconsciously. And if you had been staring, hopefully he didn't notice as he's pointing to the line of game stands at the side where the games are always rigged and you can never win big prizes.

"I've never won anything from there before, so I sure hope you're good at those."

He ends up picking a dart game out of all the options, but maybe this one would be easier than the rest.

The man at the dart stand greets you and explains the rules. "Are you trying to win something for your girlfriend?"

"Oh, we're not—" you start but stop as soon as you hear what Jaehyun says instead.

"It's Valentine's Day after all," he says easily then follows with a wink at you.

He didn't deny...?

It's three shots dead center to win one of the biggest prizes or five within the smallest ring. It makes your heart pound a little faster seeing Jaehyun so focused with his nice stance, sleeves rolled up slightly, and intense eyes on the target. However, he misses on the first shot with his dart going off the board.

"Well that's no fun," the man says, frowning at where the dart landed. "I suppose I could give you another chance, since it's Valentine's Day and all. Wouldn't want to end up empty handed, right?" He laughs to himself but puts the dart back in Jaehyun's hand.

"Thank you," he says, flustered judging by the hint of a blush that sweeps his cheeks. "I'm not usually this bad."

"It's okay! You're doing great, sweetie," you joke.

He rolls his eyes at you despite the way his lips curl up at the corners, then gets ready to throw the dart again. And this time? You're sure your jaw is to the floor when he manages to get all three darts to hit the board dead center. The man congratulates him for winning and then they disappear into the back room to pick a prize. Jaehyun later comes out holding the biggest dog plushie you've ever seen.

Once you're back outside after the arcade adventure, that's when he stops and turns to you.

"I wasn't sure what you'd like but I hope this is okay," he says quietly, gingerly handing you the giant plushie.

"It's great, Jaehyun." You meet his gaze as you take the plushie and he quickly looks away. "Thank you."

"You know, I'm really glad we ended up doing this. It's even better than what I had planned originally." Then he adds more quietly, "One of the best birthdays I've had in a while."  

"Yeah," you smile. "Me too."

It's only then when you realize that Yoojin and the rest of your plans had totally slipped your mind.

***

It's chilly outside as the two of you walk around town. Valentine's Day decorations were everywhere, with the chalkboard menus of local restaurants featuring couple meal sets with tons of hearts drawn around them, various pink and red plushies lined up on the windowsills of nearby shops, and even lamp posts on the streets covered with mini heart shaped lights. The sight of those things usually would've made you roll your eyes and pretend to puke, but somehow it doesn't seem to bother you quite so much today. It's as if you're seeing everything through a new perspective—one that might find the rosy decorations pretty and one that might understand the hype of such a holiday.

"Y/N," Jaehyun suddenly says, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you to his side. Before you could even react, he's quickly switching positions with you so that you're sheltered between him and the wall of the nearby building.

Then he's turning to you. Hand on the wall behind your head, body leaning towards you.

So close that you could see the individual eyelashes framing his eyes.

But in the next instant he's looking behind him where a car drives by and splashes up a large amount of water from the melting snow on the side of the street. Which lands right where you were standing just a moment ago.

Jaehyun turns back to you, eyes filled with concern. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," you breathe. "Um, are you?"

"That's good." He glances behind him and then reassures you with a quick smile. "And yeah, all good."

"It was a close call. Thanks for saving me."

"Wouldn't want your clothes to be ruined by that." He laughs. "How are you doing though? It's pretty cold out here."

"I'm okay," you automatically reply.

That earns you a skeptical look. "Your cheeks are all red. Come on, let's go warm up somewhere."

When you resume walking, he's taking the outer edge of the sidewalk.

A couple of blocks later is when you find out that the place he had in mind turns out to be the local coffee shop. You'd never been there before but had always thought of it as a cute place when you pass by it, so when you enter, the interior definitely matches up to your expectations. It has a rustic theme with warm glow from fairy lights hanging from the ceiling and there's soft music playing in the background, a nice place to study if it's as empty as today.

Jaehyun buys you your drink. Kind of.

"I bought one, but they gave me one for free," he says, beaming when he comes back to the table with the drinks—a coffee for him and a latte with a cute little heart floating in it for you. "Maybe the barista was charmed by my smile."

"Hmm." You look behind him to see a sign at the front of the store saying, 'Buy one get one free—Valentine's Day special'. "Are you sure it wasn't because of my charming smile?"

"You're right, that could be it. You are quite cute."

"Exactly."

Wait, what did he just say?

You do a double take but he's merely staring back at you with dimples just barely visible and eyes sparkling through thick eyelashes that you could only wish yours looked like.

Suddenly it feels like the heater's on extra high in this cafe or maybe it was the way the latte burns your tongue as you take a big gulp. Whatever it was, it definitely succeeds in warming you up a little too well, especially your face.

"You okay? Don't burn yourself," he says, the amusement in his eyes betraying the concern in his voice.

You nearly spit your drink out at him. "Nah, no burn. I'm good, thanks," you say dryly.

Time seems to slow down as you relax in your seat, body finally warming up in the coziness of the cafe. The small corner you're in almost feels like a liminal space; such a transient place you'd only ever noticed while passing by, yet a whole different world on the inside where one can hide forever. Perhaps you wanted to hide here, to enjoy the fleeting moments of a strange but amazing birthday.

Conversation ebbs and flows though you're a little surprised when Jaehyun opens up about his life. His passion for music, especially, is what picks up traction as he happens to know your favourite group, NCT. From there it becomes a debate of whether Doyoung or Taeyong was the best looking member (you insist that Doyoung's Instagram was all the proof one needed, whereas he points out that Taeyong's sharp jawline could totally cut that VVS diamonds they keep singing about). You definitely don't tell Jaehyun the fact that maybe—just maybe—he's even more attractive than your NCT biases and that he could totally be an actor from a Korean drama.

Everything you hear about him makes you appreciate his vulnerability, yet you can't help but wonder if he's so open with just anybody. You were a complete stranger, after all.

Yet every time you see the twinkle in his eyes when your gaze accidentally meets his, part of you wonders if 'strangers' no longer fits the definition of where this strange relationship was going. It leaves you with wanting to avoid looking at him which is quite difficult with him seated directly across from you. Maybe you should've sat where your plushie was, taking up its own chair between the two of you, but it's too late and now you're left to deal with the audible thud of your heart every time you make eye contact with him.

And yet when you think about it, you realize that it wasn't Jaehyun's cute dimples or his deep voice or his lame jokes that had your nerves acting up.

It was probably the caffeine.

But maybe it was the small things that you hadn't even realized you'd noticed. Earlier at the arcade when he patiently taught you the games that you were unfamiliar with, letting you win games but also winning at them himself just so he could give you the prize. Saving you from a car first then from the cold with the warmth of the cafe. Opening the door for you, sitting closer to the door to block the cold wind from reaching you.

And how despite the number of reschedules and plan cancellations you both had to make due to the train delay, he hasn't pulled his phone out a single time. You admired how in the midst of all the chaos today, he was still nothing but calm and polite the entire time and seemed to have everything under control. He was a comforting presence that made you forget about the madness of the outside world for a little while.

Nah, it had to be the caffeine.

Still, you find yourself glad to be stuck here with him, even as far as dreading when you both had to leave. You're definitely appreciating Yoojin's ability to be late right about now.

A lull in the conversation has you sneaking a glance at your phone to check up on your best friend. There's no text from her as she's either still doing her extravagant makeup or still on her way here, but for some reason you let out the breath you held in relief.

"I wonder if the trains are running now." A glance out the window shows you the remnants of sunset and the quickly darkening skies. Then you cautiously throw out the question that you'd been holding onto for a while. Something that you'd been reluctant to bring up, carefully stepping around it the whole day, and something that he hasn't talked about either. "Oh right, didn't you say you would end up taking a bus? If the delay is still going on."

Maybe it's a test to see his reaction, maybe it's to end this vague relationship before you become even more attached than you already are. Because any rational person wouldn't just throw away all their birthday plans for someone they'd just met.

"Oh. Right." Jaehyun looks down and swirls the stir stick in his drink. Clockwise, counter-clockwise, back and forth. "I, uh, actually forgot that I didn't drive here today." He shoots you a sheepish grin then runs his fingers through his hair that has deflated quite a bit since you first saw him. "So can't exactly drive over to the bus stop."

You smile back weakly. "Ah, that's okay. There's probably a ton of traffic out there now anyways."

An ambiguous answer for an equally ambiguous relationship. It could definitely be a real excuse, yet somehow the thought of that makes you almost disappointed. Maybe there are no answers to the questions and uncertainties muddled in your mind.

"But did you want to get rid of me so fast?" He actually pouts at you, as if his regular face weren't already enough to break hearts.

"What? No, of course not? I—what?" you manage to get out.

"Okay, good!" The pout immediately goes back into his regular smile. "Phew. It's sad enough being single on Valentine's Day; no need to get rejected on top of that."

Then his phone buzzes and it finally pulls it out.

"As if anyone would reject you," you mutter under your breath while he's distracted.

It's true. You might've expected Jaehyun's appearance to be making up for other areas, or maybe even hoping he'd be too rude or too blunt or have a bad character. Because the cognitive dissonance in your head wants a reason or excuse to remain distant and emotionally detached from him. But the kindness and authenticity that you saw today just leaves you without a reason, which makes it that much harder to stop yourself from liking him.

"Sorry about that; what did you say?"

"Nothing!" You plaster on a cheerful smile.

"Okay, my cousin is going to be here soon."

"Oh."

Then there's the sinking of your heart, the inevitable dread that this unexpectedly enjoyable afternoon is coming to an end. Somehow it manages to crush the anticipation you had for your birthday celebration with Yoojin.

"You know, I kind of feel bad that you paid for everything today," you say. "Let me pay you back?"

"It's fine, Y/N. We had fun and that's all that matters."

"True, but you should've at least let me buy the drinks!"

That manages to make him smile but it quickly dies as he bites his lip, suddenly hesitant. "If you really want to..."

"Yes!"

"...you could just pay next time."

What.

"Next time?" you repeat, afraid to believe what you were hearing.

"I mean, if you—maybe—want to hang out again sometime?"

You open your mouth to say something, or maybe it was already open in your state of shock. Nothing comes out as if you lost your voice.

Jaehyun briefly meets your eyes before continuing. "Well, um—I just wanted to say that I had a really good time with you today. I know the train thing was probably an inconvenience to everyone else but to be honest, I'm kind of glad that happened." He laughs a little. Stops. Bites his lip. "And yeah, if you're down, we could hang out again sometime. Because I'd love to get to know you better."

Thud.

You could only stare back at him as the roaring of your pulse becomes all you can hear. The whole day you were telling yourself that it shouldn't be possible to develop feelings for someone within a day, almost trying to hold yourself back from enjoying your time with him to the fullest in the fear that you might be wrong. And it's not like you developed crushes very easily, but here in front of you was a boy so friendly and good-natured even to a stranger he'd just met, someone who really seemed to care about you.

"Jaehyun..."

He continues, "I know it's weird meeting like this, and I don't really believe in this whole fate thing where we just happened to be stuck here and we happen to have the same birthday. All I can say is that I really enjoyed talking to you and hearing your thoughts and um, youknowyou'rereallybeautiful."

The logical inner voice had been screaming stranger danger the entire time because you didn't know him at all! You'd just met him today! Yet the small fic writer voice in your head, which definitely sounded a lot like your best friend's voice, was trying to convince you that maybe fate does exist. That if it doesn't, how likely was it that you met someone with the same birthday which happened to be Valentine's Day? That you met at exactly the right time and that the train the two of you were going to take was delayed? That you managed to have one of the best birthdays that you could recall?

Maybe sometimes you need to let go of any fears and just live life to its fullest. Let yourself feel a wide range of emotions without being afraid of getting heartbroken. Stop holding back and just be true to yourself.

It suddenly feels too hot in the cafe once again.

"Yeah," your voice comes out quiet, unsteady, but his words give you the courage to reach over to hesitantly take his hand. "Today has been amazing and I'm so thankful that you're the one I was stuck with."

His eyes flicker to yours then away. "But...?"

"There is no 'but'. Jaehyun, I'd love to see you again."

"Yeah?" He lets out a long exhale before his face visibly brightens again. "That's a relief. I didn't think you would agree, but I didn't want to have you walk out of my life just like that."

Then there isn't a need for any more words as shy smiles are exchanged and fleeting gazes meet and there's a warmth bubbling in your chest. It's as if you spent the whole day worrying over nothing. That somehow, everything worked out. That maybe it was fate, and maybe it wasn't, but the connection you thought you felt wasn't just one-sided. It was something real, something tangible.

"Jeong Jaehyun!"

The booming voice jolts the two of you out of the moment and makes you immediately spring apart.

"Did you seriously make me take the train all the way here just for you? Who is this girl because she better be real nice for you to ditch me—" The loud voice from the woman walking into the cafe stops right when her eyes land on you. She smiles sheepishly, dipping her head lightly as if apologizing for her outburst. "Never mind; forget I said anything. I approve."

"Nice to see you too, Minah," Jaehyun greets as you both stand. You can see how his face is still flushed from earlier, but now he's put on a neutral expression again and what you'd seen just a moment ago has been erased. "Don't worry, I won't make you take the train back. I'll drive you home after."

"Oh, you have the car. Bless." Minah brushes her hair back, tidying it from the effects of the wind. Then she stops suddenly and narrows her eyes at him. "Wait, why didn't you just drive over if the trains stopped working?"

"You—have the car? I thought you said you got a ride," you muse out loud.

"Oh, uh. Actually I forgot I had it since I usually get a ride here and it would've taken too long to drive there in rush hour anyway... so... yeah..." He trails off and shifts his weight from one foot to another, and it's even more evident how flushed his face is, from his cheeks to the tips of his ears.

You hear a snort and see Minah practically shaking with quiet laughter.

"Y/N!" The bell at the door rings again as Yoojin steps into the cafe, bringing a rush of cold air in with her. "There you are! And oh—" she stops mid-sentence when she spots you with Jaehyun, his cousin, and the massive plushie sitting in its own chair. "Minah?"

"Yoojin?"

"You guys know each other?" you ask tentatively.

"We were friends in high school!" Yoojin replies. Then gives you a questioning look. "Minah, it's been so long. We should totally catch up."

Minah nods enthusiastically, jumping up to give Yoojin a warm hug. "Totally!" Then she briefly glances at Jaehyun. "Well, I was supposed to have dinner with my little cousin over here but if you and your friend are free, then we could all go somewhere together?"

"How about we head over to that cute little diner that was our hangout spot for the longest time?" Yoojin suggests with a glance over at you and Jaehyun.

Minah squeals. "Let's do it; it'd be just like old times!"

"Actually, if you don't mind, I wanted to borrow Y/N for a bit," Jaehyun says. "We'll let you guys catch up in peace without a third and four wheel."

"Yoojin, we can always hang out another time if you want to go with Minah."

Your best friend looks at you suspiciously with her eyes narrowed. "Hmm, yeah that works. I'll call you later and you better give me all the details though."

"Okay, deal."

And with that, they both head for the door. Yoojin turns to give you one last wink before they're gone.  

"I guess it's just us." Jaehyun's eyes are sparkling when they meet yours and he gives a gentle smile before shyly holding you hand. "We're probably too late for my reservation, but there are some good food places not too far from here."

"So..."

"Have dinner with me?"

"Hmm, I thought you didn't have your car here."

He looks pained. "Y/N!"

"I'm just kidding! I'm actually starving so let's go."

***

It's hours of delicious food, good conversation, and shy glances later that he finally drops you off at home. When your phone buzzes this time, it's not from Yoojin—it's a text from an unknown number followed by an image attachment.

"I have a feeling this is very false for you :)" it reads. And your heart skips a beat when you see the image.

It's the "no one likes you when you're 23" meme.

On the day of your 23rd birthday, you definitely weren't expecting anyone to like you, just as you haven't for the past 22 years. But with the words in Jaehyun's text that you read and reread, the light fragrance of the rose now in your vase and the giant plushie on your bed, and your mind replaying his bright smile and dimples and the sparkle in his eyes, it seemed like today was different.

Maybe today, someone just might like you when you're 23.

[nothing-but-dreamy]

VALUED

Pairing: Chocobros x Reader

Words: 2.683

Warnings: fluff, friendship

Synopsis: Yn doubts herself and then, it's good to have a bunch of good friends nearby to remind her that she's valued by them.

"Hey, pretty doll. Why are you with these guys? Join me instead. I'm more fun than them.", a guy, dressed in dusty shorts and an old t-shirt, leaning casually against a boarding, called out with a smug smile as yn and her friends passed him.

Usually, she ignored provocations or flirting like this but this time, Yn sized the guy up, looking doubting about his statement, "I would rather love to die on the spot.", she answered, turning around to continue her way to the motel where the group was currently staying to help out with some hunts before they would continue their journey.

"Uhh, harsh words from such a little girl.", the guy said grinning.

Within one second, Yn stopped and jumped at the guy, casted one of her daggers out of nowhere to press it dangerously close against his throat, "Who do you call 'little girl', huh?", she hissed while staring into his shock-filled eyes.

"Yn!", Gladio called out, reaching her with just three strides of his long legs to drag her away from the guy who was white as salt, "What are you doing?"

Yn was trembling in his strong grip to get free, "He called me little girl. So, let me go!", she hissed through gritted teeth, stemming against his hold once again.

"No!", he boomed with his deep voice, "First, you have to calm down.", Gladio demanded. He was struggling with keeping her in place. Not because she would be that strong rather because he didn't mean to hurt her.

"But he's an asshole!", Yn argued angrily, wiggling under Gladio's hands.

"Hey!", the guy called out as he found his voice again.

"Yes, he is but still.", Gladio said, ignoring the guy's complaint.

"Hey, I can hear you!", the guy called out again but he got silenced by Gladio's angry glance shot at him.

"And you should leave or I will release her after all.", Gladio commanded and the guy disappeared.

As he was gone, Gladio released Yn but was also watching out that she stayed where she was, "What the hell was that? You can't attack random people with daggers.", Gladio said admonishingly, crossing his arms over his chest but his expression softened as he saw her sad glance glued to the ground.

Softly, Gladio placed his index finger under her chin, "Yn, that wasn't just because they called you 'little girl', right? You never did something like this before."

But instead of answering, yn just shrugged with her shoulders and looked away again.

"If it was because of that, you know that none of us sees you like this, right? You're an important part of our group.", Gladio said, calming in hope he got through to her.

"But sometimes it doesn't feel like that. None of you really need me. It's not that I would be useful. All of you are much better fighters than I am. With bigger swords or better skills.", Yn said glumly and because Gladio stayed silent, she took it as an agreement, passed him and the others to go back to the motel room.

Disbelieving, Gladio stared after her. Almost shocked, he watched how one of his best friends went away with slumped shoulders, a hanging head and her hands buried deep into the pockets of her jeans.

"What just happened?", Ignis asked confused as he stepped next to Gladio.

"Is something wrong with her?"Prompto asked, concerned as he also watched Yn walking away. Noctis joined as well, frowning about the unusual behavior. They had watched the scene because they were sure Gladio would be able to handle that. Somehow, they were wrong...

"I have no idea...", Gladio said confused, scratching the back of his neck. Since he knew her, Yn was the best female fighter he had met. Yes, she was smaller but extremely fast. Faster than Ignis and Prompto when she was fighting against creatures and enemies. Yes, she used daggers just like Ignis but she wasn't less deadly with them.

There was no reason for her to feel … useless.

Gladio was still staring after Yn even as she was already out of sight as Ignis stepped in front of him, "We should do something to help her.", he said, tapping with his index finger against his lips, trying to find an idea.

"But what could we do?", Prompto asked, "I always thought she knows how important she is to us-"

"It's not about us. You heard her. She is doubting her fighting skills.", Gladio pointed out. Slowly but surely, he understood what might be going on with her. Even as a King's Shield, he had been at the same point. He just had fought through it.

"So, what are you suggesting? Shall we train with her?", Prompto asked naively that this would fix things.

"Actually, I might have an idea.", Noctis said and pulled a piece of paper out of the back pocket of his pants.

***

Yn sat on her bed in the motel room she shared with the boys and let her legs slowly dangling over the edge while she stared out of the window. Behind the glass was nothing to be seen but sand, dust and a bunch of bushes. The blue sky was cloudless. The weather was sunny and cheerful. The complete opposite to her current mood.

Over and over again, her mind played through the attack on that random guy. And each time, she winced at the memory. Never before, she had attacked someone randomly just because of some teasing. And it wasn't just the 'little girl' thing. It had been the glances back in Insomnia as she had trained with different weapons to extend her skills. She heard the whispers behind her back when she walked next to Gladio who was so much taller than herself while they were discussing new move sets. Then, she left with her friends and even then, someone had asked her if this journey would be the right thing for such a small, pretty girl. As if her height and appearance would be everything that mattered.

With a swift move, Yn casted her daggers into her hands. Kukris. She never had seen such beautiful blades like these two with all their ornaments and detailed engravings. She felt honored as King Regis had given them to her. She felt blessed to be able to wield them to defend and to protect the Prince and her other friends. But nevertheless, sometimes, it felt as if it wasn't enough.

Since they had passed the secure wall of their home, Yn was doubting herself. None of the boys gave her the feeling to be useless. She did it on her own. Years of training and dedication to be a good fighter went south as she saw how good the others were on the field. All of them had much more training and even Noctis was able to wield a greatsword - which Yn couldn’t even move one bit.

While she stared at her daggers, tears were building in her eyes and as she blinked, hot teardrops were falling on the daggers. Angry about herself, she casted them away. Now, she didn't even feel worthy to own them...

"Here you are!", Gladio said as he opened the door of the motel room.

Quickly, Yn wiped the tears from her eyes with the sleeve of her black sweatshirt before she turned around, facing all four boys standing in front of her. She was sure they would notice that she had cried but they said nothing about it, "What is it?", she asked carefully, not knowing what would come next.

It was Prompto who answered her question as he jumped on the bed to land next to her, flinging his arm around her shoulders, "Noctis got asked for help by Tikka. A delivery of green beans went missing and we shall take a look if we can find it."

Amused, yn looked from Prompto at Noctis, "You wanna rescue green beans? You?"

"Yeah... I know. Come on, we hit the road.", Noctis said and left the room, followed by Ignis.

Prompto jumped from the bed and ran after them, "On the way, we can check if we find anything interesting so I can take a photo."

"If not, you can take selfies ... as usual.", Noctis teased and because they were already out of sight, yn just heard their bickering.

At the door, Gladio waited for yn, "You know, if you wanna talk about something, I'm there for you.", he said softly, checking on her but stayed silent.

Yn smiled up at him, already feeling better again, "Thanks. I will talk to you just … give me some time."

***

"Just green beans, huh? Green beans my ass.", yn stated as she watched Bulettes emerging form the small wood they just had passed. The four tall, very heavy and very angry animals aimed for her and her friends.

Gladio was already casting his great sword, wielding it over his head, "Come on, a little fight will keep us slinky and flexible.", he said and nudged her shoulder with his own before he smirked at her.

With a grin, yn looked up at the tall guy, "Slinky and flexible aren't words I would use to describe you, big guy.", she said teasingly.

"Ouch, no need to be mean.", Gladio called out, playfully hurt before they both aimed for the first animal.

Quickly, the calm and beautiful meadow changed into a raging battlefield. Gladio and Yn ran to the first animal and even before Gladio could make the first hit, he squatted down and offered Yn his hand and arm. Grinning, she stepped on his arm, one foot on his hand, balancing while casting her daggers and tensing up her muscles before Gladio gave her a push to throw her on top of the animal. Yn landed perfect on the back. Quickly, she found her balance again and while Gladio slammed his great sword into the skin of the animal, Yn swirled her Kukris and sank them into the throat and neck of the raging Bulette. The Kukris stuck but instead to pull them out, Yn spun them around until the animal fell to the ground.

Lifeless.

Yn jumped from the carcass with a flip and landed light-footed in front of Gladio who grinned impressed, "One down, three to go. Come on, I guess the others need our help."

"Yn, over here!", Noctis called out and Yn followed him immediately. Noctis was ready for a warp-attack that would give the opportunity of a blitz attack. Noctis warped with his KINGSBLADE against the animal and bounced back next to Yn. They nodded, taking a run-up of a few steps and while Noctis let himself drop on one knee to attack the feet of the Bulette, Yn ran and stepped on Noctis' back to jump against the broad enemy to thrust her daggers between its ribs into the heart. She stayed a few moments longer to make sure the creature was dead. As it fell lifeless to the ground, Yn stemmed her feet against the ribcage and pulled out her daggers.

Yn was just about to catch her breath as Prompto called her over, "Yn, I could need your help."

She turned her head before she spurted over to her friend. Prompto already had drawn his gun, firing at the beast but as Yn stopped next to him, they nodded at each other with a grin, turning over so they were standing back to back before Prompto was aiming for the animal again. Yn did the same with her daggers. From the corner of her eyes, she waited for his sign. As Prompto nodded with a grin, he fired his gun the same moment Yn threw her Kukri. The shot staggered the animal in its way towards them. It became slower while Yn's dagger penetrated the skull of the animal. The Bulette stumbled over its feet, fell to the ground and slid a small way before it stopped in front of their feet.

As yn thought it would be over, Ignis called her over to him, "Come on, I need you for the finisher.", he called out. With a huge grin on her lips, Yn ran towards him. Gladio and Noctis had made the animal already tired. Ignis and Yn bumped their fists against each other, stepped back and ran then to the animal to attack it at the same time with their daggers before they landed side by side on the other side elegantly on their knees. Everything happened so fast, that the Bulette needed a moment to realize that it had no chance anymore and so, it fell lifeless to the ground.

All five friends were breathless but alive, unharmed and happy. With a rapid pulse, Yn turned around to look at the scene of battle while she casted the daggers away.

Ignis inspected the corpses, "We should take something with us before we find a good spot for camping and cooking.", he said and Prompto already joined him to help with the preparations.

***

Two hours later, the tent was built, the food was cooked and eaten and Prompto, Ignis and Noctis stretched themselves, the sign that they were ready for the night. One by one, they called it a night until just Gladio and Yn were left behind, sitting at the crackling campfire in silence observing the calming flames.

Yn watched how small sparks danced endlessly into the dark blue night sky. Stars were scattered over the firmament like millions of diamonds. Her eyes stayed glued to the stars while she smiled softly, "I know what you all did today.", she whispered, breaking the silence.

"What... what do you mean?", Gladio asked, trying to sound convincing but it wasn't working very well, he saw it in her face.

"There never were any green beans, right?", Yn pointed out, still looking to the stars.

Gladio chuckled low, scratching the back of his neck before he looked apologetically at her, "Actually, no... not really."

"I thought that it was a bit odd for Noctis to run around to search for a bunch of vegetables.", Yn said before she looked into Gladio's face, "Thank you.", she whispered sheepishly.

Gladio laid his arm around her shoulders, "You're welcome, sweetheart. You're valued here. Always. We wanted to show you that.", he whispered before he pressed a soft kiss on top of her hair. He pulled her against his side where she snuggled against his chest. It wasn't the first time that they were seeking comfort in each other but this time it felt more important.

Gladio rested his head on top of hers and looked back into the flames, "We have your back, no matter what. You know, I've been there as well. I also had doubts about myself. I guess that's normal. You just have to remember what you're capable of. We trust you all blindly because we know what you are able to do.", Gladio said low.

A single tear was rolling down Yn's cheek by his words and suddenly, everything that had happened looked stupid and odd. Quickly, Yn wiped the tears away, "I feel so stupid.", she whispered.

Gladio straightened himself to look at her, "You don't have to. It's human to doubt oneself from time to time. And the next time, when you feel like this, just come to me. Talk with me. You don't have to go through this alone. Size isn't all that matters.", Gladio said with a smirk.

Yn felt touched by this big, cuddly teddy bear and so, she threw herself against his solid body with her arms flung around his middle. Gladio mimicked her move and embraced her back, "And by the way, you have the perfect size to lean and to snuggle against me like this. That's a good start, don't you think?", he chuckled but Yn couldn't answer.

"Cuddle time!", Prompto called out and within one second, Gladio and Yn were attacked by Prompto, Ignis and Noctis. Buried underneath her friends, Yn felt her confidence coming back.

She felt valued.

[moonlitceleste]

I highly recommend wearing headphones or earbuds while listening for the full effect! The song used in the audio is Parasite Eve by Bring Me the Horizon; the rock I listen to usually isn't this heavy but this song seemed fitting for the plot.

The audio and story were a bit rushed, and I was also really tired when I wrote this so sorry for any mistakes!

Let me know if you want me to continue making these! They take a long time, so if you enjoy them I’d really appreciate if you interacted with this post :D

The low purr of Jason’s car slowly died as it came to a halt in what was one of Gotham’s considerably least shitty parking lots.

And when he said “least shitty,” he meant it. Nothing in Gotham was good, let alone extraordinary enough to deserve higher praise.

Jason got out of the sleek black vehicle and closed the door, taking care to lock it before he stuffed the keys into the inner pocket of his faux leather jacket.

It was of high quality and material; he wouldn’t have bought it if not for the behest of Tim, but now he admitted the purchase was a good one. A few years ago his younger brother gained rapid interest in someone by the name of MDC; within a day, he easily found out the young designer’s identity and somehow pestered her into taking him on as a client. If Bruce was any indication, he probably left her no choice.

Speaking of the designer, she was partly responsible for his current situation.

A year ago MDC revealed her identity to the public and started to appear by Jagged’s side on tour, both as a designer and a performer. How she managed to do this while running a business and taking commissions, Jason had no idea—but he respected her ability to juggle all that work, especially since she was only a few years younger than him.

(It was worth mentioning that he didn’t learn this all this on his own—between Tim and Dick’s constant discussion of her, the information was practically drilled into his head. They were the fanboys, not him.)

A while after her reveal, Jagged announced he was going on a worldwide tour for the first time in years. It was only natural that one of those stops be his hometown, so the rockstar sent Bruce enough VIP tickets for the whole family and then some—which is why Jason was currently standing in the middle of a kind-of-shitty parking lot.

He hadn’t planned on going to the concert, rather opting to stay at home, go on patrol, and relax with a good book. But his plans fell through with the unusually low crime rate. He circled around various areas multiple times, but the only disturbances he stumbled across were petty thefts. It was as if all the criminals had collectively agreed to stop their plans for the night.

Yeah right, as if they’re all going to attend Jagged Stone’s concert or something.

Jason snorted at the thought.

He shook his head, pulling himself out of his thoughts to continue walking. He was already an hour late, not that it mattered.

A loud whoop caused him to tense, but Jason relaxed slightly at the sight of a small group.

There were three girls and one boy; none seemed particularly threatening, judging by appearance and gait, but it was Gotham. One could never be too careful.

One of the girls, short-haired and clearly tipsy, slung her arm around a blonde’s shoulders and pulled her in for a sloppy kiss. Their friends chatted loudly beside them, disturbing the relative quiet of the night.

Damn, I’m lonely.

Jason sent a harsh shut up to whatever voice in his head that decided to say that and approached the usher at the booths near the venue entrance.

He showed his pass and was pointed towards his destination, but the directions were unneeded. The booming music and cheers were more than enough to let him know where he was supposed to go.

After pushing past countless bodies and showing his pass to a security guard, Jason finally reached the VIP floor. He tuned out the music, keeping his eyes peeled for any sign of his family, and spotted them within a matter of seconds. It wasn’t hard considering how large their group was.

Stephanie was the first to see him. She waved him over while shouting something, presumably his name, and he followed.

Jason winced internally as he sidled up next to them; whoever was stuck behind his 6’4” frame was likely very annoyed.

He took a few seconds to settle in before turning his eyes to what everyone else was looking at.

In the middle of the elevated stage was Jagged Stone, shredding on his guitar and bobbing his head up and down to the beat.

He was costumed in an intricate, eye-catching outfit—quite literally.

The rhinestones on his black jacket caught and reflected the purple lights that shone above, and he shimmered with every movement.

Accessories were piled top to bottom, with his signature black lace gloves only being one of them.

Jason didn’t know much about design, but the outfit came across as intentionally showy rather than garish, which seemed like an impressive feat considering the sheer amount of components included.

Speaking of design, the girl a few feet away certainly didn’t escape his attention.

She was adorned in a short red dress with thin straps, a cowl neck, and a satin material. A leather jacket, combat boots, and the same lace fingerless gloves the older performer was sporting completed the look.

Damn, was the first thought that came to Jason’s mind.

Although he knew better than to underestimate women, he found himself shocked by the powerful vocals that spilled from her mouth. For someone so short, she certainly had a large pair of lungs.

Her voice was a far cry from Jagged’s growls and classic rock screams, but fit in nonetheless.

If anything, it was a light contrast to the heavy-hitting beat and the bass which reverberated through the venue, like how chefs used lemon to cut through the heaviness of a dish.

The way she moved with such poise was captivating, and the smile she wore as she lost herself in the music reeled Jason in.

He could only stare as she belted each note with ease, and the fleeting thought of what she’d look like in his leather jacket passed through his mind.

This train of thought was abruptly cut off as Steph sent a sharp nudge into his side.

Jason looked over, and she started mouthing the lyrics to the song rather aggressively while making exaggerated motions. He assumed this was her way of telling him to start dancing with the crowd.

She looked at him expectantly, to which Jason rolled his eyes, but when she looked away he subtly started moving his feet to the music.

Maybe going to a concert with his family wasn’t so bad—and when he thought of a certain designer, he couldn’t lie and say he wasn’t grateful for those backstage VIP passes. Now all he had to do was make sure he asked her out before Tim could.

PERMANENT TAGLIST (some of you might not remember asking, but I was reading the comments under my first fic and saw that you asked to be added. if you don’t want to be on the list anymore, just ask and I can take you off!) @avengerthewarrior​ @bluesimani @enternalempires​ @flower-girll​ @freesportspalacesalad​ @glastwime859​ @h1sss​ @heart-charming​ @jalaluvsu​ @kitsunebell​ @moongoddesskiana​ @nathleigh​ @too0bsessedformyowngood​