#and it wasn’t even the same print on a few different style shirts
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A few months ago I accidentally ordered three of the same shirt and now I wear that one often enough to feel like a cartoon character. I have had people recognize me by my shirt and not my face. It’s not even my favorite shirt, it’s okay looking, but not my favorite. Yet I’m pretty sure if someone based a character off of current me they would be wearing that shirt, black skinny jeans, and boots. I don’t know how to feel about this
#emma posts#it’s a black graphic t-shirt (as 3/4 of my shirts are) that says’bad vibes only’#I thought it was funny so I ordered it. except I accidentally ordered it THREE TIMES#not the wrong number in one order#no. that would be awkward but still pretty normal#no. I ordered it three different times with three different shirt orders and didn’t realize it until all the orders arrived#I didn’t do this with any other shirts!#not on accident at least#sometimes I’ve bought two or three of one shirt I really liked but usually those are just really comfortable black shirts#No graphics#how tf do I order a shirt I think was kind of funny but wasn’t my favorite ever THEE SEPARATE TIMES#and it wasn’t even the same print on a few different style shirts#no. it was THE EXACT SAME STYLE OF T-SHIRT EACH TIME#I didn’t pick a different length or neckline or anything#i managed to choose the exact same style three separate times
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Personal Shopper
Jessie Fleming x Reader
Synopsis: based off this request of reader helping Jessie shop for new clothes
Warnings: nothing, it’s fluffy
WC: 1.2k
A/N: here’s some fluff to ease your mind with all the angst I’ve put out recently :)
“I feel like I look silly.” Jessie voice came over the top of the dressing room.
“Just show me.” You were sat outside on a bench, waiting patiently for your girlfriend to try on and show you the mountain of clothes you had picked out for her.
“No.”
“Jessie come on!” You encouraged her. “Just let me see.”
It was no secret to anyone that Jessie could use some wardrobe help, you had heard her teammates tease her for years, she even mentioned it herself on numerous occasions. She was quick to pick up a sweatshirt and throw on the same black Nike shirt and black hat that she always wore. When it came to fancier clothing, she was even worse, owning a couple of plain button ups and a few pairs of solid color slacks.
After she had complained one too many times about her wardrobe and not knowing what to wear, for your own liking. So you had taken her to various stores, spent hours looking through racks and piles of clothing, trying to find something for the Canadian.
She cracked open the door. Peaking out at you, “Don’t laugh please.”
You shake your head at her, “I won’t, I’m never going to laugh at you for trying something on.”
She opens the door fully for you to see her outfit. She had thrown on a plain black shirt, more tightly fitting than her regular choice of shirt. The shirt showed off more of her figure than her standard Nike black shirt. She had also put on a nice pair of pants. Black and white in a small checkered print.
“Oh wow.” You can’t help but let the words fall out of your mouth when your eyes scan Jessie head to toe. It wasn’t often that you got to see her dressed up.
“Stop.” She gives you a firm look.
“No babe, it looks so good.” You admire her for another second before looking to her face. She looked uncomfortable. “You don’t like it?”
“I don’t know, it’s just,” she turns back to the mirror to look at herself. “It’s different.”
“Okay.” You come up to rub her shoulders. “If you’re uncomfortable in it, don’t buy it because then you’ll never wear it. But it looks nice, so if you’re just uncomfortable because it’s new, then that’s okay.”
“I like the shirt.”
“Jess it’s a plain black shirt of course you like it.”
“Yeah but the fit is different, it’s tighter.” It was, her biceps were being restrained by the fabric, it was tight across her chest and shoulders, it looked good, a little too good given you were in public.
“Alright, try it on with another pair of bottoms then.” You push her in the direction of the changing room. She out a huff but closes the door and changes again.
Jessie hadn’t been super thrilled when you dragged her from store to store, she knew she wanted new clothes, a new style but it was the actual act of shopping and trying on that she hated so much. You on the other hand were thrilled Jessie had finally asked for your help.
You didn’t mind her clothes, they were never an issue to you, but they were an issue to Jessie which then made them your issue when she would come to you asking to borrow your clothes because she didn’t want to wear anything she had. You liked seeing her in your clothes, but you decided it was time she was happy with her own wardrobe.
The issue was not just having clothes but it was the fact that Jessie didn’t know how she wanted to dress. To be fair to her, the majority of her life is spent in athletic clothing, a game kit, training kit, or in some form of a team branded shirt, sweatshirt, or sweatpants. When she’d get home from training or a game she’d usually slip into another pair of athletic shorts or sweats, only throwing on jeans and a simple shirt if you were going out.
“I think I like these better.” Jessie opens the door, she’s got on the same black shirt, now paired with a pair of maroon dress slacks.
“Those look nice on you.” You let her look at herself in the mirror again, she turns looking at the back of the pants. “They make your ass look good, don’t worry.” You give her a smile in the mirror as she rolls her eyes.
She looks at them for a couple more seconds, contemplating the pants. “I think I’ll get these.” She finally decides. “And the shirt.”
“Okay take them off, put your jeans back on and try this on.” You had her a couple of linen button up shirts.
“Ughhh.” She groaned as she turned back into the dressing room, the linen shirts in her hand.
Jessie comes out in the sage green shirt, her jeans from home back on. She’s got a smile on her face.
“You like it?” You ask, hopeful based on her smile.
“Yeah, it actually feels comfortable, it doesn’t feel like I’m wearing a costume or someone else’s clothes.” Jessie looks at you for your opinion.
“That color looks good on you.”
“Yeah it’s different but I like it.” You could see the genuine smile on her face, it made you happy, seeing her satisfied with something she was trying on. She spins in the mirror one more time before closing the door behind her.
She comes out a moment later with the maroon pants, black shirt and linen shirt in one hand. The black and white checkered pants in the other. Jessie places the black and white pants back on the rack and then makes her way over to the display of linen shirts. You watch as she picks up one in white, blue, black, and a coral color adding them to the pile of clothes she was holding.
Jessie must’ve noticed the strange look you gave her as she turned around with the shirts in her arms. “What?”
“Nothing.” You say with a small shake to your head.
“I like the shirt, it’s comfortable. I’m ready to check out.” She knew you were questioning the fact that she just grabbed four identical shirts to the one already in her hand.
“I know.” You hold your arms out to her to offer to hold the shirts. “Whatever you want babe.” Sure it wasn’t what you had in mind when you had taken her shopping but at least she was walking out with something new that she liked, you couldn’t complain too much.
You watched as Jessie checked out, refusing to let you pay for any of the clothing for her. She did however make you carry the bags with all the clothes, which you did happily.
#jessie fleming#jflem#jessie fleming x reader#jessie fleming imagine#woso imagine#woso x reader#jessie fleming blurb
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the life of an outlaw is a lonely one.
(Javier Escuella x John Marston.)
CW: Alright guys so there is a lot of kissing here, and so much fluff. There’s mentions of body dysmorphia, anxiety attack, body mutilation mentioned but not committed, comfort, slight suggestive themes towards the end. And, Divorced! John Marston.
Writers note : I wanted to update my writing style a bit since I haven’t been writing for quite a bit so I’d appreciate any feedback! Also, I don’t have the ability to reply to comments or messages sadly but that is currently being dealt with !
Enjoy.
The life of an outlaw is lonely when you feel out of place. The occupation or lifestyle isn’t exactly known for its happiness and love, usually labeled as countless negative words. Whatever you can think of, chances are the outlaws have been called it.
John never intended to be an outlaw, sure his dad was an ass who died in a bar fight and he never met his prostitute mother, he got into the gang early in his life but he’d never planned to be there. As a kid he wanted to work with people, but he went the entirely opposite way. Waking up was a chore, looking himself in the mirror much worse. Having to see the scars etched into his skin on the body he couldn’t recognize, paired with the dirt under his nails and bags under his eyes, was exhausting. He always threw on the same-ish clothes, hoping they’d cover up the parts he couldn’t face, the parts of his body he’d want to carve out with a hunting knife if he could. He’d found that the black covered him up best, so that’s what he stuck with.
Javier was one of the few in the gang who seemed to notice when he was off, even if John never actually spoke about it. He tried to just pretend it was his shitty sleep schedule fucking him over but Javier knew. And John could tell. He could see it in the way the Mexican would glance at him in between his guitar strumming, could feel it in his rough palms when Javier would pat his shoulder. But unlike the usual condescending feeling that would build in his gut, Javier’s worry felt different.
There was no laughter or mocking, no judgemental glances or annoyed scoffs, just attention. And worry. It felt weird, distant, uncomfortable in its very own sense of the word. But at the same time it felt comforting, like a kind of support he wasn’t used to, the kind of support he hadn’t felt in way too long if ever.
Arthur and Dutch would try and help in their own way but it wasn’t the same . It wasn’t Javier. They could pat his back but they didn’t leave their hand on his back as if leaving a hand print etched into his spine. They didn’t put his head on their shoulders and just let him stay there. When the two of them comforted him it felt forced, awkward even. But Javier did it as if it was like breathing, as if comforting and caring for him was the easiest thing he’d ever done. And it was.
To Javier holding John was like breathing. Being allowed, no, honored to hear his breathing even for a second while he kept his head on his shoulder felt like finding an entire bag of gold bars. It was like listening to the melodies he could strum with his guitar when he heard him talk.
———————————
As the morning sun pushed its way onto the sky , bullying the moon aside to reclaim its place, John was sitting on his cot. The tent surrounding him like barriers from everything outside, but also stopping anything inside to get out. A safe way to start his morning. But even so he kept his gun by the cot on the ground, letting him quickly grab it if needed. Getting onto his feet felt like swimming up to the surface of the ocean, not that he’d know what that felt like. Sluggishly walking to the mirror in his tent, getting a short glance at the unrecognizable face in the small reflection as he put on his black everyday over-shirt, looking down at his body as he buttoned it up at the very top.
Even when he pulled on his pants he didn’t look at the mirror, trying to extend his peace of mind for just a bit longer before finally looking into the reflection and sighing. The scars on his face were still there, not that he expected them to randomly vanish with a good nights sleep, but it was a nice thought. His gray eyes stayed glued to his face, his hand moving up to slowly touch the scars on his cheek before sighing and laying the mirror down on the barrel and grabbing his brown vest and then stepping out of his tent. The morning sun cascading across his face as he put on his hat.
The camp was bustling with faint conversation and laughter, the usual loud voices lowered to let the camp members who still were sleeping, continue to do so. It was nice to not be deafened by Sean’s loud cheering or Bill’s yelling. Though he knew that would change soon enough. As he sat down at the campfire it felt like all eyes. including his own, were on him. As if even breathing was a crime.
“Y’look like shit, partner” Uncle spoke, chuckling as he drank a part of his beer despite the early hour. John scoffed in reply but the sinking feeling rose in his gut regardless. Did he really? Sure he looked shitty always but did he look shittier than normal? With one shared glance from Javier, John got back up, walking away from the campfire. He tried to make it less obvious that he was genuinely bothered, but it seemed to have been noticed anyways as someone struck uncle on the back of the head. He didn’t know where or how far he went, but he stopped when he could no longer hear the voices at camp. Slowly he sat down by the riverbank’s edge, close enough to see the way the water rushed beneath the rising sun, but not close enough to be able to touch it. If he got too close he’d see his reflection, and that wouldn’t do him any good.
His breathing already felt like a challenge, like someone had his lungs in two iron pipes, not allowing them to expand far enough. He was getting dizzy, everything was spinning, his hand gripping his shirt after tearing off his vest to try and get some more room to breathe. But even that did nothing. And the lack of air freaked him out further, he even tried to splash some water in his face but even so he felt like he was drowning. Was he dying? Was this really it?
“Hey, hey Cálmate” The sound of a very familiar voice struck his ears, but he couldn’t bring himself to look towards the sound or think about who it was, too busy trying to get his brain to work with his lungs. He needed air.
The feeling of Javier’s arms wrapping around him caused him to tense, Javier saw him? He could see his pathetic panicking? This was so embarrassing. He attempted to shove the Mexican away from him but only got met with a tighter grip.
“you’re not pushing me away, Compañero.” he spoke almost sternly, and for the first time in whoever knows how long , it didn’t piss him off. No, instead John moved his hand from his rapidly beating heart to the back of Javier’s shirt, the grip almost threatening to break the fabric.
“I can’t- I can’t breathe-“ It felt pathetic to speak with such a broken voice and such desperation, but Javier didn’t judge, and john knew he wouldn’t. Which was why he was even talking or letting him help in the first place. Abigail was the only one John had allowed to see him like this, the only one he allowed to hold him. But now there was Javier.
But Javier didn’t say anything. Instead he put his hand on the back of John’s head, cradling it against his shoulder, his other hand rubbing John’s back slowly. He didn’t say anything. Why didn’t he say anything? Was he disappointed?
He didn’t seem disappointed, he wasn’t tense or sighing, not trying to tell him to ‘man up’. He just sat there and listened, rubbed his back and just nodded.
“I’m here”
Javier more-so whispered. John didn’t realize at first but Javier had pressed his lips against the top of his head, and despite the initial feeling of confusion, he didn’t mind. He’d think he’d be disgusted like the usual man at the sight. But he wasn’t.
If anything it felt nice, warm even. But he didn’t need Javier to know that. And before he even knew it himself, he was breathing slow and steady, in the normal pattern like he normally did.
But he didn’t want to move, and Javier made no attempt to move either. Just holding him as the sound of the riverbank slowly flowing beside them. It was nice, paired with the morning sun and slightly chillier air felt like a warm bed.
“Better?” Javier asked after a moment of silence, but John couldn’t bring himself to speak, instead nodding slowly to reply, to which the Mexican chuckled. “Bueno” The Mexican replied with a small sigh.
“you kissed me head” John eventually spoke, his voice slightly gruffer than usual, yet still low. Almost as if uttering the words would make the situation actual, real.
“Sí. Did you not want me to?” Javier replied reluctantly, making sure to question the other man’s words. The lack of a reply made him uncomfortable. Had he offended him? John was one of , if not, the most important people in his life. “I don’t know.” John finally whispered, and Javier felt himself ease up slightly. So he didn’t hate him.
“not sure? Did it feel bad?” Javier questioned, his hand on John’s back mindlessly continuing to stroke slowly, keeping the soothing action going despite there no longer being any need for it. “No” He whispered once more, and Javier couldn’t help the butterflies forming in his stomach. It was nice to not have to worry about disgusting him. Hopefully it’d stay that way.
“Good, then I’ll do it again” Javier replied, kissing John’s head once more and earning a small sigh, causing him to smile even wider. “¿Bueno?” he teased slightly, his hand on John’s back pausing a bit as he leaned back slightly, making the other man look at him. Javier took note to John’s slightly rosy cheeks and his smile grew slightly teasing.
“What?” John questioned with a frown, his embarrassment growing at Javier’s staring. He felt his body burn once more. He knew he was ugly but the staring and almost mocking expression on Javier’s face made him want to run away and hide under a rock for the rest of his life.
“John. Can I kiss you?” The question caused every thought or automatic action his brain was producing to halt, gray eyes wide as he stared at the Mexican man. “What?” he quickly questioned, needing to make sure he heard him right. But even if he wasn’t 100% sure, his cheeks and the tip of his ears grew rosier, the feeling of Javier’s hand on his cheek only making it worse. “Sí, can I kiss you?” Javier repeated as if his question was nothing different from asking how his day was, but to John it was like getting hit by a truck of ‘what if’s’ and embarrassment. But also flattery. Javier wanted to kiss him? Out of all the women in the world- and men obviously, Javier wanted to kiss him.
Javier took John’s silence as slightly endearing, seeing the cogs turn behind his eyes, which made him smile slightly softer. At the silence, despite his morals (which he lacked), he leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his friend’s lips, smiling as he felt the other man practically melt into it. Javier took it as an added bonus to feel John sigh against his lips. He took the chance of moving closer to him at his compliance, feeling John’s hand on his hip.
Javier had kissed a lot of people, always been the one in control and never wanted it any different. But feeling John’s lips against his made something in his brain crack. A sigh leaving his lips when he felt his back get pressed against the grass, lips slowly molding and moving against the other’s as he gripped the back of his shirt, forcing him to stay close. John had only ever really kissed Abigail, and some girl in an alley behind the saloon in valentine, so feeling Javier not only kiss him but enjoy kissing him was like being handed a trophy for being amazing. As they broke apart, John remained above Javier, his upper arms on the grass beside the Mexican’s head as they caught their breath, a string of saliva connecting their lips.
“Eres tan guapo” Javier whispered breathlessly,
(ts: you’re so handsome)
and despite the fact that john didn’t understand his words, he felt himself get hotter all over again. “Translate” he spoke shortly to which Javier chuckled, arms wrapping around John’s shoulders and pulling him back down. The Mexican managed to flip them over so he was straddling John’s lap, hand ghosting down his clothed torso.
“you’re so handsome” he repeated in english, causing John to flinch slightly. Handsome? He looked like shit , how was he handsome? That coming from Javier was either a ton of bullshit or the biggest compliment ever. Cause Javier? Javier was handsome. Especially now, on top of John, with the morning sun cascading across his face and his lips slightly agape in a small smirk. John swore he could die right then and there.
“I’m really not” the words caused Javier to pause. “Yes, you are.” he spoke almost sternly, leaning down slightly. “If you weren’t, i probably wouldn’t have kissed you” he spoke, placing a chaste kiss to John’s lips before he could argue with him. Then moving his lips to his scarred jaw, kissing over the old wolf scars and then down to his neck.
“Especially with these scars.” Javier spoke against his neck, causing John to tense slightly. “I’ll kiss all of them til you believe me , cariño” Javier spoke against his neck once more, reveling in the way John sighed at the feeling of his open mouthed kisses.
“I’ll show you just how handsome you are”
#rdr2 javier#javier escuella#rdr2 fluff#Jovier fluff#John Marston#Marston rdr2#divorced!Marston#Javier Escuella x John Marston#I LOVE THEM#BARK BARK BARK BAKR#THIS TOOK ME ALL DAY
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A Tattoo Artist Walks Into a Flower Shop...
Pairing: Danny x f!reader
Warning: 18+ MINORS DNI! swearing, choking, hair pulling, unprotected sex, reader has a bit of a praise kink, mention of needles
Word Count: 7.2k (jeez)
Summary: a new tattoo shop opened up next door and one of the artists catches your eye
Notes: so I got very carried away with this, first half is fluff second half is pure sin. Also, I know little nothing about flowers and plants so all my info came from Google and if it’s inaccurate I’m apologizing now.
-
The wall of windows allowed for the summer sun to shine into the shop, casting a bright glow over the many flowers around you. The sunflowers seemed to dance towards the light and the dusty pink peonies smiled at the warmth. The name of your shop was printed on the glass of the front door, Sweet Stems written in eucalyptus green with a crisp white outlining each letter. The different flowers painted on the glass were done by a local artist, the design ranged from snapdragon stems to daisies.
The wooden tables out front stood at the base of each window, an array of flowers in farmhouse-style metal vases with rows of twine decorating the tops were neatly placed on each table. There was a wooden awning with a light stain that prevented the flowers from being overwatered during a rainstorm.
Inside the shop the walls had been painted white, you had figured the bright petals would bring enough color to the small space. Flowers filled glass vases varying in size and shape along every wall, the ones you dried hanging from the wooden beams of the ceiling. Some vases sat on the floor, while others were sat on small wooden crates you had taken apart to create DIY shelving. Looking back, hardwood floors might not have been the best idea, water ringlets littering the material, but it was better than the rust-colored shag carpet that originally covered the floor.
You were currently standing behind the large wooden desk you had custom built to serve as a checkout counter and workstation. An arrangement of a dozen red-colored roses and baby’s breath was laid out in front of you. The flowers were for an older gentleman who requested the same order every week, stating red roses were the first flower he ever bought for his wife. The bell above the door chimed, assuming it was Ernie coming to pick up his order, you greeted him accordingly.
“Little early today Ernie, I’m almost done.”
“Um, hello.” The unfamiliarity of the voice caused you to look up from your work. The man stood in your shop, hand still holding the door open with one foot on the hardwood and the other still on the sidewalk. He was most certainly not who you were expecting.
This man was tall, his slender legs seeming to stretch on for miles. He was dressed in all black, a stark contrast to the colors all around your shop. Tight black jeans were rolled once, covering the tops of his black combat boots. The black Beatles shirt he wore had the sleeves cut off, exposing his muscular arms. His dark curls went well past his shoulders, and if the sunshine wasn’t playing a trick on you, there were a few well-placed highlights mixed in. You swore you could write a novel on his beauty. The way his nose curved the slightest bit downward and how, even from a distance, his eyes seemed to shine bright - putting any star in the night sky to shame.
You hadn’t realized how intensely you were staring until the man cleared his throat, looking around your shop awkwardly. A few strands of hair tickled your cheek as you shook your head to resume your thought process, flexing your fingers as if the blood flow had stopped.
“I’m so sorry, uh. Hi, I’m Y/N - welcome to Sweet Stems.” The voice that greeted the stranger didn’t sound like your own, tone strained and an octave higher than normal. The man smiled, briefly stealing the air from your lungs, and you wondered if you had ever seen someone as beautiful as him. In the end, your task proved useless as all cognitive functioning had stopped as soon as you saw him.
“I just wanted to introduce myself, I’m Danny. I opened up the tattoo shop next door.” He was still standing in the doorway of your shop, so when he extended his arm to point in the direction he was referring to, his hand hit the frame of the door. Danny brought both his hands behind his back as a deep blush rose up his neck and consumed his face.
You bit your lip to stifle a laugh, the last thing you wanted was to enhance his feelings of embarrassment. As you walked out from behind the desk, you wiped your sweaty palms on the pants of your overalls and held your hand out for him to shake. “Nice to meet you, Danny. I look forward to being building buddies.”
He discreetly swiped his palms over his pant legs before grasping your hand in his. “Likewise, Y/N.” Danny opened his mouth to continue the conversation but was interrupted by a voice behind him.
“Y’know son, you make a pretty good door.” Behind Danny stood the elderly man you had expected earlier. With your hands still connected from the handshake, you lightly pulled Danny closer to you, loosening your grip in the process. You looked at the clock on the wall and smiled.
“Right on time, as usual, Ernie.” The older gentleman followed you as you made your way behind your workstation, tying a sheer white ribbon in a bow to keep the wrappings intact. He handed you the money owed, giving the exact change, before delicately grabbing the bouquet with his shaking hands.
“Thank you Y/N, these are lovely. Not that I’ve ever had a complaint.” Ernie gave you a toothy smile before turning to make his exit. However, he stopped in front of Danny, motioning for him to bend down. Ernie was a short Italian fellow, so your new building neighbor had to bend down quite a bit to allow the man to whisper something in his ear. With a hand cupped around Danny’s ear, the older gentleman whispered to him. At one point Danny looked up and made eye contact with you, blushing a light pink. The younger man then turned to whisper something back to Ernie, who smiled and patted Danny on the shoulder before leaving your shop.
“What was that about?” You attempted to act uninterested in the matter, beginning to work on another floral arrangement. When you chanced a glance at Danny you saw that he was now standing in front of the desk with an amused smile.
“Oh you know, this and that.” Danny hummed, mimicking your lack of interest in the topic. The glare you directed towards him is what broke his facade, a bright smile spreading across his face. The sarcastic laugh you gave him only made his smile grow, eyes squinting in amusement.
The space around you grew quiet, the only noise being the soft music coming from the speakers around your shop. Silence wasn’t your strong suit, usually attempting to fill it with your rambling. But with Dany, it felt comfortable, like two old friends sitting on a park bench enjoying the other’s company. The man broke the silence with a question you weren’t expecting.
“What flower helps people calm down?” While the question caught you off guard, your brain was quick to find the answer.
“Lavender is commonly used, it has a calming smell - plus it’s pretty. Also, gerbera daisies are nice and bright which can help calm anxiety. And they can remove benzene from the air, which is a chemical found in ink!” The enthusiasm you used while talking about different flowers was annoying to most, you often used your hands to gesture around you and rambled on far too long, but Danny didn’t seem to mind. His face had softened, a small smile gracing his lips as his eyes never strayed from yours.
“Perfect, can I just get a dozen of those garbanzo daisies?” You tried, you really did, but there was no stopping the loud laugh from leaving your mouth.
“Gerbera, but yes, I’ll get them for you. Any specific colors?” Making your way towards the requested flowers, you waited for his reply. When Danny turned towards you he was scratching his cheek, attempting to cover up the deep blush.
“Whatever you think, you’re the professional.” The colors of the flowers varied - from light pink to deep crimson, blazing orange to refined white - so you grabbed one of each color until you had a dozen. You placed them in a square matte black vase, shaking your head when Danny tried to hand you his credit card.
“Welcome to the neighborhood. I’ll try and keep the overly enthusiastic discussion about flowers to a minimum next time.”
“Thank you. And please don’t stop your flower talk, it’s cute.” He sent you one last smile before turning to walk away, the bell above the door signaling his departure.
-
Danny came into your shop every day for the next month, always asking you which flowers or plants were best for different things, and each day he bought whatever you suggested. He had told you he puts them in his shop, liking how they brightened up the place and how he felt like he was helping his clients.
“So this lemon drop fern is supposed to help purify the air?”
“Lemon button fern, Daniel. You did that one on purpose.” He put his hands up in surrender, admitting defeat. Over the past month, you hadn’t stopped your ‘flower talk’ as Danny put it. You swore he did his own research on his own, always coming in with a list of questions to ask you. When he would come to visit you in-between sessions you often overheard him talking with customers, offering his ever growing knowledge on the subject.
“One last question for you Y/N, then I’ve gotta get back.” You motioned for him to continue, watching as he took a deep breath before continuing. “What’s the best type of flower to give someone when asking them out?” Your lips formed a tight-lipped smile as you tried to hide your disappointment by scratching at your nose. As much as you didn’t want to admit it, to save yourself from feeling the way you did now, your feelings for Dany had quickly grown past friendship.
He was so kind, bringing you lunch when he could and listening to you ramble for hours about your passions. Danny always looked handsome, whether it was when he was dressed in all black with his long curls framing his face or dressed in an oddly patterned sweater with his hair pulled back in a bun. It had never occurred to you that, outside the little bubble you two had created in your shop, he may be interested in someone else.
“Well, it depends on what they like.” You cleared your throat to push down the lump that had formed. “Personally, I prefer dahlias or sunflowers, you can never really go wrong with those in the summertime. But again, it’s whatever they prefer.”
“Okay yeah, let’s go with sunflowers.” He grabbed the flowers for you, allowing you to tie a white ribbon around the stems.
“Make sure you tell them to use room temperature water and of course, lots of sunlight.” Danny nodded as you handed him the bouquet of vibrant yellow flowers, thanking you as he left your shop. The moment his frame was out of view, you let out a frustrated groan. You rubbed your hands over your face, slumping over to rest your elbows on the wooden desk. What’s the point in pining over someone if they don’t end up liking you back? Fanfiction had it all wrong.
Before you could wallow in self-pity any longer, the bell above your door rang. You looked up as Danny walked back in, still holding the bouquet. He couldn’t see the way your eyebrows furrowed and lips turned down in confusion, too focused on the steps he took. You were about to voice your confusion but Danny handed you, more like shoved in your face, the flowers you had just sold him.
“Make sure to put room temperature water in the vase and of course, lots of sunlight.” He spoke with confidence, but the nervous smile and the drumming of his fingers against his leg gave him away.
“Wait, what?” Still not understanding what was going on, you mechanically reached out to grab the flowers and held them against your chest.
“Shit, did I not make it clear I was asking you out? I thought I’d been so obvious these past few weeks. Should I leave and come back in? I could give it another try.” Danny went to reach for the sunflowers in your hand but you quickly hid them behind your back.
“If you try and take these from me I’ll fight you.” While he laughed you could not have been more serious. You sold the flowers, you never received them.
“So, is that a yes to going on a date with me?”
“Duh!” That wasn’t the most eloquent way to say yes to a date with such a perfect man, but you were past the point of caring. Danny’s gesture had left you near speechless, single-syllable words being the only thing your mind could conjure at the moment.
“Oh thank god.” Danny let out a relieved sigh and placed a hand on his chest. “You close up around 5 right? I cleared my schedule tomorrow after 5:30 so you didn’t have to rush or kick anyone out.”
“You cleared your schedule? How’d you know I’d say yes?”
“Call me a hopeful romantic. Come over to the shop when you’re done?” He began backing towards the exit as you nodded, still holding eye contact when he spoke again. “Great! Okay, I have to go do my job, but uh - I will see you tomorrow!” You hid your giggle in the sunflowers when his shoulder lightly collided with the doorframe, mumbling a quick ‘bye’ as he left your shop.
Danny no longer in sight, you placed the flowers in a matte yellow vase. You placed the flowers atop your desk, and if you ended up admiring them for the rest of the day - well, no one had to know.
-
The following day, five o’clock couldn’t come fast enough. It didn’t help that you had an inability to keep your eyes off the time for longer than two minutes, making the day seem twice as long. You tried to pay attention when customers asked questions, but knowing you’d be going on a date with Danny in less than eight hours had your thoughts preoccupied.
Currently, you were helping a boy, probably no older than sixteen, decide what type of flowers to buy for his girlfriend. Every time you thought a decision had been made, he’d backtrack, unsure if his girlfriend would like them. Normally, you’d sit with a customer for hours if need be, listening to the stories they’d tell of the loved one they were buying flowers for. But as the clock hand moved to read 4:59 pm, you couldn’t care less about his decision.
Ten minutes later, you had finally got him to settle on a bouquet of light pink carnations. You added some stems of babies breath and tied the wrapping with a light pink ribbon. As soon as the boy walked out of your shop you turned off the white neon ‘open’ sign and locked the door.
A change of clothes and a failed attempt at doing winged eyeliner with shaky hands later, you made the short walk to the tattoo shop. The first thing you noticed was the noisy atmosphere, the sound of rock music, and people’s conversations were heard over the buzzing of tattoo guns. It was the complete opposite to your shop where soft indie music played and people spoke as if they were in a library.
The walls of the space were natural brick and tattoo designs hung with black frames covered most of the left wall. You looked to your right to see a large wooden desk, a woman with long black hair sitting behind it. She smiled when she made eye contact with you, holding up a finger to signal she’d be with you when she was off the phone. Four black tattoo chairs occupied the middle of the space, only one not having a client sat in it. Before you could get a good look at the other tattoo artists, the woman behind the desk spoke.
“What can I help you with, hon?”
“I’m looking for Danny, we uh-, we have a date.” You clasped your hands together in front of you, shifting your weight from one foot to the other to try and ease some of your anxiety. The woman gave you a warm smile, but her eyes held hints of mischief as if she knew exactly why you were here.
“He’s in the back right now, but his chair is the second on the left. You can wait there for him if you want.” You thanked her, following the directions she gave you. As you walked towards Danny’s chair, you let your eyes wander. The tattoo shops you’d been in before while accompanying friends were different. This place seemed much more put together and inviting.
When you got to Danny’s station, the green foliage was the first thing to catch your eye. The lemon button fern he had bought yesterday was perched atop a wooden stand right next to his chair. You smiled as you lightly ran your fingertips over the top of the plant.
“I’ve never seen him take such good care of something like he does those flowers from your shop.” Somehow forgetting there were other people present, you let out a quiet ‘fuck’ as you placed your hand over your racing heart. When you turned towards the voice, you were met with bright honey eyes and a kind smile. Both his arms were covered in tattoos, some looked like doodles you’d see in a notebook while others were full of detail. “I’m Sam.” The man held his hand out for you to shake.
When you didn’t extend your hand he gave you a questioning look. You pointed to his hand that still held the tattoo gun, his gaze following with a cheeky smile. “What? Not keen on getting a quick palm tat?” Before you could respond, Sam put the tattoo gun down and shook your hand. You could feel the warmth of his palm even through the black nitrile gloves he wore.
“Hi Sam, I’m Y/N.”
“Oh, we know.” The voice came from the man tattooing across from Sam. He had long brown hair that reached just past his sternum. His tattoos were different than Sam’s, the majority being on his legs that were exposed by the shorts he wore and each looked as if they served to tell a story. “That’s Jake,” Sam said as the man you now know as Jake gave you a small wave before getting back to work.
A curly-haired man tattooing at the chair to your left spoke up. “Danny never stops talking about you. Probably deserves a cut of the profits over at your place, he tells all his clients to go visit you.” The smile and blush on your face couldn’t be covered. Danny talked about you to his friends? You looked up at the man who just spoke, he was shirtless, displaying the tattoos that covered his arms and chest - some even traveled up his neck.
“And you never stop talking about mindful meditation, but you don’t hear me telling anyone about it.” Danny’s arm wrapped around your shoulder as you looked up to see him smiling at you. “Ready to go?” You nodded your head, letting him lead you out of the shop as the boys let out a chorus of ‘have fun’; Josh following up with a ‘but not too much!’
Goosebumps rose on your arms when the heat of the summer sun hit your skin. You hadn’t realized how cold the AC had made it in the shop. Danny noticed, pulling you closer to him as he rubbed his left hand up and down your arm. You gave him an appreciative smile and wrapped your arm around his waist, tilting your head closer to his body.
“So, what are the plans, Mr. Wagner?” Danny hadn’t told you the details of your date, just the time. The outfit you had chosen seemed like a good neutral option, light-wash mom jeans and a white v-neck. Thankfully his outfit seemed to be similar, tight black jeans and a white Rolling Stones t-shirt: sleeves still intact.
“You’ll see.” His lips quirked up into a smile when you groaned quietly. You had thought all last night about what the date would entail. Danny was a calming presence, which made you think the date would reflect that - maybe a simple dinner and a walk through town. But when he stopped in front of the local put-put you couldn’t hide the surprise on your face. “Mini-golf?”
It was obvious the way his face fell and eyes filled with panic that your initial response wasn’t what he was hoping for. You could see the cogs in his mind working to come up with an entirely new plan for your evening. “Do you not like this idea? We can do something else!”
“And pass up the opportunity to kick your ass and brag about it for the next few weeks? Not a chance.” Danny’s eyes crinkled at the sides, breathing out a relieved giggle. “Just in case it wasn’t obvious, I’m pretty competitive.”
“Yeah, I think I gathered that.” He slung his arm back over your shoulder as you both made your way towards the entrance.
-
“That’s not fair, you didn’t tell me before that you’re basically a professional golfer. I want a rematch.”
That had Danny belly laughing, harder than when you fake threw your putter into the waterfall display. “I am in no way a professional, plus regular golf and mini-golf are very different. If anything, it’s harder to play mini-golf if you play regular golf often.”
“If that was your attempt at consoling me during my loss, it wasn’t helpful.” You kept a straight face, although seeing Danny near tears from laughing so hard made it difficult.
“Gonna have to rain check that rematch, we’re late for dinner. C’mon.” He held his hand out towards you, and you being completely oblivious to his intentions, placed your putter in his hand. Danny let out an amused chuckle, placing your putter in the hand that held his and then extended his hand towards you again. You blushed, finally realizing what he wanted, and interlocked your fingers with his.
The two of you made small talk, you throwing in a couple more ‘that wasn’t fair’ into the conversation. You had thrown away any and all preconceived notions you had in regards to what Danny had planned for your evening. So when you walked up to a food truck, you were absolutely beaming.
“I thought simple food was a safe bet, I mean who could turn down chicken fingers.”
“Vegans.” It was a lame joke, nicely timed, but all in all very lame. However, you had found out those were the jokes that made Danny laugh the hardest, and you would do just about anything to make that man laugh. Fingers still interlocked, he brought your hand to his lips and kissed the back of it. You could feel the heat of a blush consume your face at the sweetness of the action.
“Vegans.”
-
The two of you took your time walking down the street that was home to both your shops, wanting to spend as much time together as you could. You quietly sighed when you noticed the bright flowers from your shop and the glowing neon sign from Danny’s. Finally at your destination, you both stood in silence as he rubbed the back of your hand with his thumb.
“Do you, uh, want to come in?” Danny asked as he nodded his head towards his shop. The line was cliche, but it had you laughing and nodding your head in agreement as he led you towards the door. He turned the lights on, forgoing the harsh main lights and opting to plug in yellow Christmas lights that lined the upper portion of the walls. He motioned for you to sit in his chair and he went to turn on the radio, lowering the volume and changing the station to play something a bit more mellow.
“I see the fern likes its new home.” You checked to make sure the soil wasn’t too dry, smiling when you realized it was the perfect texture. You had taught him well.
“Oh yeah, Layla loves it here.” Before you could respond, Danny spoke up. “Have you ever thought about getting a tattoo?”
You didn’t have to think long about your answer, if at all. “Definitely. At first, I never got one because my parents threatened to disown me if I got a tattoo while living under their roof. But since I moved out, I just haven’t had the time. I have an entire Pinterest board with tattoo ideas.”
“Let me guess, they’re mainly flower-themed?” Danny phrased it as a question, although you were aware he knew the answer.
“Maybe.” You said, dragging out the ‘y’.
“Well, you’re free now…” Danny’s eyebrow quirked up and a smirk spread across his face. “No better time than the present.” He could see the nerves take over your features, eyes no longer meeting with his and fingers fiddling with one another.
“Do they hurt?” While you’d never admit it, fear of the possible pain was the main reason you never got a tattoo.
“Depends on the spot and the person. But I saw you almost punch a seagull for trying to take your last french fry so I think you’re tougher than you give yourself credit for.” Your eyes rolled at his teasing tone, biting the inside of your cheek to stop a smile.
“They freshly cut the potatoes that morning, I wasn’t just going to let it take my last fry.” There was no other way to describe the smile Danny gave you except absolutely smitten.
“Show me some designs.”
-
You had chosen a simple design of a chrysanthemum to go on the inside of your left forearm, no color or shading to take away from the simplicity that drew you to the design in the first place. The flower was often used as a symbol of happiness, and now when you glanced down at that tattoo it would be your reminder. The weight of your decision didn’t hit when Danny drew up the design, nor did it hit when he asked for the placement. Even when he put on the black nitrile gloves and transferred the stencil from the thermal paper to your skin. But when you heard the whirring of the tattoo gun your stomach dropped and sweat began to accumulate on your lower back.
Danny could tell you were nervous, all the color drained from your face and eyes screwed shut in anticipation. He had learned over his years that talking with his clients that were nervous seemed to help, so that’s what he did.
“Y’know, you haven’t asked me the most basic question.” When he saw that he had gained your attention, he continued talking and began tattooing. “I’m a tattoo artist, and yet I don’t have any tattoos. Why is that?”
“Because Sam lets you practice on him?” Your sentence came out in a single breath, and Danny had to pull the tattoo gun away to laugh.
“Yeah, that’s one of the reasons. But the main reason is I’m actually seriously afraid of needles.”
“You’re lying to make me feel better.”
“No really! I get so nervous when I have to go to the doctor to get a shot or bloodwork. Sam convinced me to get my ears pierced when we were 18 and I passed out in the chair at Claire’s.”
“He never lets you live that down does he?”
“Never.” The more Danny talked, the more relaxed you felt. The pain was bearable, more annoying than anything.
He was still talking, but his voice had become background noise as you admired him at work. You surprised yourself at how hot you found Danny while he was tattooing your skin. The way the muscles of his arms flexed as he worked, tongue poking out to wet his lips every so often. You couldn’t help but wiggle your lower half, suddenly feeling too hot even with the air conditioning.
He grabbed at your clothed thigh and squeezed. “Don’t move.” His tone was deep and gravely and demanding, and the way he spoke made you want to do anything he asked. Before he continued, he switched out the glove that had made contact with your thigh for a sterile one. You had to look away, tipping your head back to look up at the ceiling. Your mind kept replaying his words, simple words, but it was the tone of his voice that had your mind creating scenarios where he’d speak to you like that again.
Lost in your daydreams, it startled you when Danny let out a triumphant “done!” You looked down to see him lightly rubbing a gel over the newly marked skin, wrapping it with the same amount of care. “You got a little spaced out there at the end, thought you might pass out. You did good for me.”
He didn’t bother hiding his smirk as you nearly choked on air, Danny knew the effect his words had on you and he wasn’t being shy about it. He turned to remove the gloves and throw them away, giving you enough time to begin formulating words again. “How much do I owe you?”
“Nothing.”
“Danny, you paid for everything tonight. And while I know this is on the simpler side of what someone can get for a tattoo, it shouldn’t be free.” You had seen your friends drain their bank accounts getting tattoos, plus you wanted to pay him for his beautiful work.
“Y/N, do you know how many ‘no charge’ or ‘it’s half price’ I’ve gotten from you. Plus,” he began moving closer to you as he spoke, eventually looming over your body that still sat in the chair. “If I treated you like an actual client, it would make what I’m about to do very unprofessional.” Your question died in your throat as Danny’s lips connected with yours.
The thoughts you had earlier about Danny being sweet had flown out the window as he kissed you like his life depended on it. He had one hand on the head of the chair while the other cupped your jaw, it felt as if his hand covered the right side of your face in its entirety. Your hands wrapped around the back of his neck, pulling him as close to you as possible with the awkward positioning of your bodies. As you deepened the kiss, tongues coming together, Danny’s hand on your jaw moved to the back of your head. When his fingers tangled in your hair, giving an experimental tug, you involuntarily whimpered - only motivating him further.
Danny pulled away from your lips, just enough so that he could speak and you could feel his warm breath fan over your face. You looked into his eyes, shades darker than their usual hue, and held eye contact as he spoke. “Saw the way you were squirming when I was tattooing you, and it wasn’t because you were in pain. What were you thinking about, hm?” You didn’t respond right away, lungs feeling as if there wasn’t enough air being pushed to them and heart racing. When you still didn’t respond, Danny tightened his grip on your hair and tugged harder than before. With your head tipped back and neck completely elongated, Danny trailed a pointer finger down the side of your neck. He gave a quick peck to your lips before trailing his mouth down your neck, biting at the soft flesh. “Tell me, baby.”
A gasp being pulled from you when he sunk his teeth into the spot where your neck met your shoulder. “Was thinking about you, how hot you looked tattooing me.” Your voice was barely above a whisper as your nails dug into the tanned skin of his neck.
“What else?” Danny’s hand still gripping your hair and his other traveling down to latch onto the thigh like he had done earlier had your brain fuzzy. You were starting to think he enjoyed watching you struggle as he licked a long stripe up your neck, nipping at your jaw.
“When you told me not to move, the way you said it, made me want to do anything you wanted. Made me want to know if you’d talk the same way while fucking me.” He groaned softly in your ear, tightening his grip on your thigh. Even over the material of your jeans you were sure he would leave you bruised, and you couldn’t wait to wear the markings like a badge of honor. You had never been able to speak your desires to a partner, especially the first time being with them, but seeing the way Danny’s chest heaved and eyes screwed shut just by you saying you wanted him to fuck you - well, that feeling was intoxicating.
The feeling of control that surged through you gave you an idea. You moved your hands from around his neck, trailing them down his covered upper half. When you felt the waistband of his jeans you ran your pointer finger along the skin just above his pants, stopping at his happy trail and lightly tugging at the short hairs.
A quiet hiss is the only reaction you got from Danny and you could see him trying to keep his composure. You unbuttoned his jeans and dipped a finger below the waistband of his boxers, only to remove it seconds later to trail your hands back up his toned stomach. He removed his hand from your hair, instead moving it to grip at the headrest of the tattoo chair - the leather making a noise of protest against his tight grip. He tried to win back control when he licked up the side of your ear, voice low and gravely. “What about when I told you how good you were for me?” His hand had been trailing up your thigh, but ceased all movements when all you did was let out a high-pitched whine.
“Danny, please.” He looked into your eyes as his fingers ran over the button of your jeans. A nod from you was all the permission he needed before he undid the button, helping you shimmy out of your pants and throwing them carelessly behind his shoulder. Danny stepped back to remove his own jeans and shirt, standing before you in nothing but his tight black boxer briefs. Your eyes ran down his frame, from his toned stomach that looked so lickable to the prominent bulge that had you clenching your thighs together.
“What do you want, baby?” You reached your hands out to grab at his biceps, but he caught your wrist in his hands and pulled you up till your feet hit the ground and your chest was pressed against his. “Tell me what you want and I just might give it to you.” If any other man had spoken to you with such a cocky attitude you would’ve grabbed your clothes and left. Danny was a different story, it lit a fire in the pit of your stomach and you could feel your arousal soak through the thin fabric of your panties.
“Wanna feel you here,” you moved his hand over your chest, squeezing your hand overtop his as it met your covered breast. “But mainly here.” Your hand continued to guide him down your stomach until his fingers brushed over your panties. Danny gasped when he felt your wetness, already so needy for him and he had barely touched you. “Want you to do whatever you want to me.” A low groan emanated from deep in Danny’s chest, and before you had time to blink his hand was wrapped around your throat and his lips were on yours.
“You might regret that.” He bent down and grabbed the backs of your thighs, making quick work of lifting you up and wrapping your legs around his waist. You quietly moaned when your clit brushed against his stomach, desperately grinding your hips against in search of more friction.
“Fuck, so good for me baby. Such a good girl.” Danny now sat in the tattoo chair with you in his lap, legs spread by his muscular thighs. You could feel him pressed directly against your pussy, liking the way he reacted when you had teased him earlier, your hips slowly grinded down on him. His hands released their grip on your thighs and moved to grab at your ass, landing a harsh smack to both cheeks before assisting you with your movements. The painful pleasure had your eyes rolling back and a small smile grace your lips, loving the way you could still feel the sting of his hands.
“Can I take your shirt off?” You go to nod, but remember what he had said earlier about using your words.
“Please.” It was all you could mumble out at the moment, thoughts consumed with nothing but Danny. His movements were quick, but not rushed, wanting to drink in the sight of you already so strung out for him. Before he could ask, you reached behind you and undid your bra, adding it to the pile of discarded clothes.
Danny pulled you into a searing kiss, tongues battling one another. He moved his lips down the column of your neck and over your sternum, making sure he left plenty of marks on his path down to your nipples.
You continued to grind down on him as he mumbled praises, ‘so good’ and ‘absolutely beautiful’ falling from his lips. When he took one of your nipples in his mouth, sucking before biting down, your moan could’ve put any pornstar to shame. Red marks were left on Danny’s biceps as your nails sunk into the flesh, a pleased hum leaving Danny’s mouth and vibrating against your chest. With one last flick of his tongue on each of your nipples, he looked up through his lashes to make eye contact with you
“Wanted to taste you, see if you tasted as sweet as you act. But I really want you to ride my face, and I don’t think it’ll work in the chair.” You placed a sweet kiss to his lips, hands cupping his face tenderly. “That’s okay, next time.” Danny smirked when you confirmed there would be a next time.
“You sure you’re okay with this?”
“Danny, I’ve been thinking about this since we first met. Yes I’m sure.” Even though you meant what you said, you couldn’t stop the blush that traveled from your chest to the tops of your cheeks. Danny’s smile was one of relief, knowing you felt the same as him. You didn’t respond with words, instead kissing him deeply until your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. The way Danny’s tongue ran across yours, teething nipping at your bottom lip, distracted you enough to not notice he had removed his boxers.
“Stand up for me baby.”
You did as told, arms trying to shield as much of your exposed body - feeling bashful under his hungry gaze. He stood up, circling you until his toned chest met your back. “Suddenly so shy. What happened to my good girl who wanted me to do anything I wanted to her?” There it was, that tone of voice he used while tattooing you. All feelings of shyness left you, being replaced with pure carnal desire. You pushed your ass back, feeling his hard cock, and swiveled your hips. A loud smacking sound rang through the air as Danny hit one of your breasts, fingertips landing directly over your nipple.
The shocked gasp that left your mouth had Danny humming in your ear. “So impatient.” He bent your body over till your chest was laying flat against the leather of the tattoo chair, bringing your thigh up until your knee was resting next to your chin. “You told me I could do whatever I wanted to you. I want to ruin you.”
He ran himself through your folds, gathering your arousal on the tip of his cock, before slowly pushing into you. The low moan he emitted contrasted with the high-pitched whine that came from you. “So wet for me baby, so good. Fuck.” He gathered your hair into a makeshift ponytail before he began thrusting into you, hips snapping against your ass. His movements were slow but brutal, causing you to feel as if all the air was being punched out of your lungs.
Your arms were extended in front of you, careful not to rub your tattoo on anything, your nails dug into the leather of the chair. A thin layer of sweat coated your skin, causing you to move awkwardly up the chair. “Danny.” His name came out in a breathless moan and he seemed to like how fucked out you already were for him. The hand gripped in your hair pulled you up until your back was against his chest and your head rested on his shoulder. You turned your face to capture his lips in a sloppy kiss consisting mostly of tongues and teeth.
“Ruin me.” Your breath fanned his lips as you whispered your words. Danny pulled you back into a bruising kiss, speeding up his thrusts and reaching a hand down to toy with your clit. All the prior teasing had your body feeling warm, but the mixture of his skilled fingers on your clit and the tip of his cock grazing your sweet spot had your body on fire. It didn’t take long, maybe five more thrusts till you felt the familiar fire spread throughout your lower half. You clenched around him as you tipped over the edge, a mixture of expletives and his name rang through the air.
You felt Danny twitch inside you as he continued to rub your clit, helping you ride out your orgasm. He wrapped his hand around your throat, squeezing at the sides until breathing became difficult. “Fuck, Y/N, I’m gonna cum.” Danny went to pull out of you but you quickly reached back to grab his hip, signaling you wanted him to finish in you. “God damn, baby. Yeah, you want me to stay buried in you? Fill you with my cum until it’s dripping down your perfect thighs?” All you could do was nod in agreement as his grip on your throat became all but lethal, cutting off your airway completely for a few moments. With one final groan, you felt him release, eyelids fluttering shut at the feeling of his cum filling you.
Neither of you moved as you attempted to catch your breath, bodies stuck together with sweat. Danny’s grip on your throat loosened as he kissed your shoulder, pulling out of you with a quiet gasp. You turned to face him, eyes connecting with his as he smiled softly at you. Laughter bubbled in your chest, growing louder the more confused Danny looked.
“I can’t believe you passed out getting your ears pierced at Claire’s.”
“I knew I shouldn’t have told you that.”
#greta van fleet#greta van fic#danny wagner fic#danny wagner smut#danny wagner fluff#danny wagner x reader#greta van fleet imagine#danny gvf#danny wagner#gvf one shot#gvf fic#gvf imagine#greta van fleet smut
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closing time
pairing: Natasha Romanoff x female reader (kinda?)
warning: mentions of blood, a probably very inaccurate description of a wound being treated (lemme know if I should add anything else)
word count: around 3,000
a/n: wrote this before bed last night and edited it this morning. feedback would be appreciated, just pls don’t be too hard on me, since it’s the first fic i’m posting on here. i have a vague idea for a second part if anyone’s interested.
summary: a wounded stranger stumbles into your life one night, and you find yourself helping her out despite your better instincts.
next part
It was a slow night for a change. The last customer had left half an hour ago. An elderly man who had only bought two packs of cigarettes and some strawberry mint gum to go along with it. He was a regular, came in at least once a week, always bought the same thing. The kind of customer you enjoyed after a long day: quiet and quick to leave.
You were all set to lock up for the day. All you could do now was wait for your shift to actually be over. A difficult thing for someone who was inherently impatient and had nothing to distract herself with. Your phone had died halfway through the day, and you had finished your book sometime around lunch. Any other night, you would at least have your co-worker or your boss to chat with, but Mr. Douglas had left early today. Something about his in-laws coming to visit. You hadn't question it.
A glance at the clock. Ten more minutes. With a sigh, you closed your eyes, just listening to the ticking sound. For a while, you counted along. It was calming. Almost enough to lull you to sleep. Not that that took a lot, you were pretty tired after all. You had long lost track of the seconds gone by when, in between the rhythmical tik-tok, a shrill bell chimed. The one above the entrance you knew all too well.
You had to suppress an annoyed sigh. Last-minute customers.
Whatever complaint you had on your mind was quickly replaced by utter shock when you opened your eyes. In, through the drugstore-door, staggered a woman with fiery red hair, covered head to toe in dirt. Bruises lined her face, and she kept one hand pressed to her abdomen in a futile attempt to stop blood from seeping out of a wound. Little droplets fell to the floor despite her efforts, marking her path to the counter.
"Holy shit!" you breathed out, eyes probably wide as saucers. You continued dumbly, "I think you need to see a doctor."
An understatement, to be sure. If her sickly pale complexion was anything to go by, she was sure to keel over sooner rather than later.
The redhead shook her head determinedly, a pain-stricken look on her face.
"No doctor. No hospital. Just need some medical supplies," her remark was accompanied by her slamming crumpled dollar bills on the counter.
"O-kay," you said slowly, leaving the counter and taking her by the elbow, "I'll get you your supplies, but you seriously need to sit down."
You opened the door to the break room, guiding her to a chair that she more or less collapsed onto. She winced in pain, and you stayed a moment to make sure she was all set before hurrying back out. In a frenzy, you jogged along the shelves, mentally trying to create a list of supplies she could need. Rubbing alcohol, a first aid kit, scissors, tweezers. You also grabbed some painkillers and a bottle of water on your way back.
Dumping all the supplies on the round wooden lunch table, you watched her nervously as she started to cut off parts of her shirt to get better access to the wound. Almost instinctively, you grabbed the trash can holding it out for her to dump the blood-soaked fabric into.
"Water," she croaked out in between painful gasps, "Need to…rinse the wound."
Mutely, you nodded. Rummaging through the cabinet of the small old-fashioned kitchen counter until you found a big bowl and filled it up. Dipping a towel into the lukewarm water, you knelt in front of the woman.
"Let me do it. You need to save your strength."
She looked like she wanted to object, but, in the end, she gave you a curt nod. There was a lot of blood. You did your best not to irritate the wound too much. By the time you were finished, the water itself was a deep crimson. She had closed her eyes, sweat covering her brow. She grabbed you by the sleeve of your shirt when you tried to stand up, holding you in place.
"Now with alcohol," she told you. Your eyes flickered to the bottle on the table.
You hesitate. Swallowing the lump in your throat.
"Are you sure?"
"Do it," the redhead commanded, eyes still closed. She let go of your arm then, returning hers to the armrest of the chair. Her fingers left behind bloody prints.
You obeyed her order, wincing along with her in sympathy as you pressed the alcohol-drenched cloth to her wound. You could only imagine how much it must sting. Her grip on the armrests tightened until her knuckles turned white. When you were done, she inspected the wound, eyes narrowed to see in the dim light of the fluorescent lamps. A long silence stretched between you two. She looked up, meeting your gaze for the first time. Her eyes were a mix of greens with little specks of grey thrown in. Under different circumstances, you might have admired them a little longer. They were quite beautiful.
"Can you sew?"
You nod slowly, sensing where she was going with this and not liking it one bit.
It took a while to find sewing supplies. Taking deep breaths, you willed your hands to stop shaking and followed her murmured instructions. Put on latex gloves, sterilize the needle and thread. She sounded very calm as she explained how to make the first stitch, didn't even flinch when the needle pricked her skin. It helped calm you down a little.
By the time you cut off the excess thread, you found yourself unable to recall doing any of the other stitches. The rush of the moment made the procedure seem to pass faster than it probably did in reality. She eyed your handiwork for a moment before giving a small nod of approval, a faint, exhausted smile tugging at her lips.
“Not bad for a rookie.”
“Thanks,” you breathed out, already preoccupied with sifting through the first aid kit.
Wrapping the wound was much more your forte. The redhead leaned back in the chair once you finished, washing some painkillers down with a big gulp from the water bottle. With the adrenaline wearing down, you felt as exhausted as she looked. Leaning back against the table leg, you let out a breath you didn’t know you were holding, your body relaxing as your apprehension lessened little by little.
You took a couple of moments to mentally catch up to what just happened, processing the sheer craziness of it all. Your brain was brimming with questions. Who was she? Who hurt her? Why didn’t she get professional help? They were on the tip of your tongue. But the woman passed out before you had the chance to ask her anything.
With tremulous hands, you cleaned the store for the second time that evening, wiping up blood from the floor, the chair, and the table. You discarded the rags with the rest of the used supplies. All the while, you checked on her multiple times, unable to shake the fear she might die right then and there. She looked unnaturally pale, but her pulse continued to drum rhythmically, her chest kept rising and falling with every breath she took.
What now? Should you call the cops? The hospital? She seemed pretty set on not getting any authorities involved. Perhaps with good reason?
You resolved to find out tomorrow, hoping you would not grow to regret it. Slinging one of her arms over your shoulder, you lifted her up and carried her bridal style, mindful of her injury. She wasn't too heavy, but you still were glad you had had the foresight to park your car nearby. After making sure she was safely strapped into the passenger seat, you went back and finally closed up the shop.
________________________________________________________________
The next morning, you were woken up by some clattering sounds coming from your living room. With a groan, you forced yourself out of your bed and stumbled through the door into the next room. The redhead was walking around in the dim light, rummaging through your drawers and dropping things left and right. You watched, for a moment, too perplexed to say anything as you rubbed your eyes tiredly.
“Shouldn’t you be resting or something?” you ask, voice rough from sleep. It was still way too early to be awake. You had thought the pain killers would help her sleep for a couple of hours more. Looks like you were wrong.
“Later,” she muttered just loud enough for you to hear. Crouching down, she opened the bottom drawer of the tv cabinet and pulled out some DVDs you had stored there, only pausing to look at the title of one of them with a smirk.
“Is this not a kids' movie?”
You had no idea what she was looking at, but you crossed your arms, feeling a bit offended anyway. Blame your lack of sleep for making you a little sensitive.
“Do you make it a habit to judge the movie taste of people who were gracious enough to let you stay in their home overnight?”
The woman didn’t answer verbally, just put the movie back and closed the drawer again. She turned to face you, her expression turning serious all of a sudden as if only now remembering where she was and how she got here in the first place. She looked apprehensive, taking a couple of steps in your direction.
“Does anyone else know I’m here?” her voice conveyed a sense of urgency, eyes staring into yours imploringly. Confused, you just shook your head.
Her shoulders relaxed a little.
“Good,” she nodded, her attention already returning to her little scavenger hunt.
The redhead walked across the room, sifting through your kitchen cabinet next.
You sighed, picking up a couple of things she had knocked over in the living room and putting them back in their proper place. Every few seconds, you would glance at her from afar. She was still wearing the outfit she had on when she came into the drugstore. With her unconscious, you hadn’t seen any way of getting her into some new clothes, at least not without possibly irritating her wound or waking her up. She could surely use something clean to wear. Her current attire was dirtied and bloody, not to mention that her shirt now looked like a makeshift crop top since she had cut off parts of it last night.
“You know, if you just told me what you’re looking for you wouldn’t have to make such a mess of my apartment,” you winced as one of your spice shakers fell out of the cupboard and landed on the stove just as you finished speaking. Luckily, nothing broke.
The woman paused mid-motion, still on her tiptoes, body halfway turned towards you.
“A radio. An old one preferably.”
Frowning, you picked up and folded the blanket she had discarded on the floor in front of your couch.
“What for?”
The redhead eyed you for a moment, hesitant and unsure whether you could be trusted. In the end, she kept quiet, ruling against explaining herself. You reluctantly accepted her decision, tossing the folded blanket back on the couch cushion in resignation.
“I should have an old radio alarm clock somewhere in my wardrobe. Will that do?”
It took you a couple of minutes to find the old thing, hidden away in the very back of your closet, underneath some clothes you hadn’t worn in forever. When you returned to the living room, your visitor was leaning against the kitchen isle, nibbling on one of your pop tarts which she abandoned as soon as she saw you. Eagerly she took the alarm clock off your hands, acknowledging you with a grateful nod. The redhead sat down on the couch, plugging the device into the closest outlet.
You more or less kept an eye on her while you made yourself some coffee, but you had no idea what she was doing. To you, it looked like she was just fiddling with the controls, only static and a couple of high-pitched sounds filling the living room. It was grating on your nerves, but you made no comment. By the time she finished and turned the radio off again, you were already on your second cup.
“Are you expecting any visitors in the next couple of days?” she asked casually, sidling up next to you in the kitchen.
You raised an eyebrow, placing your empty cup in the sink.
“No. Why?”
“I need a place to lay low until Tuesday.”
“Lay low?” you parroted, “What for? Who are you hiding from?”
Subconsciously, she glanced down at her bandaged wound, and you followed her gaze, slow realization coming over you.
“Did they do that to you? Did they hurt you?” you asked more softly. She only shook her head in confirmation, “Then why not just go to the police? I’m sure they can help you better than I c-"
“No,” she cut you off immediately, gripping your wrists tightly in both her hands as if to physically keep you from taking your phone and calling the cops. This only made you grow more concerned.
“No. We can’t go to the police. It’s not safe,” she loosened her grip on you a little.
Your eyebrows were drawn together as you thought about what she said.
“Why would it not be safe? Unless...,” you swallowed as a possibility crossed your mind, “Are you in trouble? Did you do something illegal?”
When she didn’t immediatley deny your statement, you started to jump to conclusions, your voice rising with panic.
“Oh, shit! You did. What was it? Were you in a fight? Did you kill someone? Holy shi- Does helping you make me an accomplice? Am I harboring a criminal in my ho-”
She cut off your rant by slapping a hand over your mouth, thus muffling your words.
“Be quiet, your neighbors might hear,” she hissed, gaze darting to the door, almost like she expected someone to burst through it.
Your eyes were wide in fear, but you listened to her, your heart racing. She slowly removed her hand, giving you a warning look as though she feared you would start talking again. You didn’t.
“I’m not a criminal,” she told you earnestly, “I am, however, on the run, so I would appreciate your discretion.”
“On the run from whom?”
The question was no more than a whisper, too scared to raise the volume of your voice. She held your gaze for a moment before shaking her head.
“I’m afraid that’s classified.”
“Classified,” you repeated, incredulous, “So let me get this straight. You show up at my job, bleeding all over the place and telling me not to call the authorities. I help you out, let you crash at my place and you, in return, wake me up at an ungodly hour, make a big mess of my living room, imply that you might have done something illegal, and expect me to let you stay here until Tuesday without getting any information whatsoever?”
“I know this isn’t fair...,” she admitted, and you laugh humorlessly.
“Not fair? I would be crazy to agree without at least having an idea what I’m getting myself into.”
The redhead nodded in agreement, looking away guiltily, teeth biting down on her lips. She seemed genuinely beat down, something even you, as a stranger, could tell was foreign to her. Oddly enough, you felt bad, although you knew, realistically, that you had done nothing wrong.
You let out a weary sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. Curse your empathetic heart.
“Three conditions,” you conceded, making her look at you in surprise. Holding up a finger, you started your list.
“One. No more throwing my stuff around. If you need something, ask. I don’t want to have to clean up after you.”
She nods, having the decency to actually look sorry this time. You put up a second finger.
“Two. You tell me your name. Doesn’t have to be your full name or even your real name if that’s a secret or whatever," you added with an indifferent shrug, "I just want something other to call you than ‘hey you’.”
“What’s the third condition?” she prompted, not commenting on the second one.
“You promise me that you’re not the bad guy in this situation and that helping you won’t land me in trouble somehow.”
The redhead cocked her head to the side, an almost fascinated expression on her face.
“How would you know I’m telling the truth?”
“I don’t,” you countered without hesitation, “I’m just gonna have to trust your word here. Just as you will have to trust mine that I’ll keep your presence here a secret.”
For a moment, she regarded you with some indescribable emotion on her face before nodding in concession. Letting go of the one wrist she was still holding, she took a step back. Caught up in the moment, you hadn’t even realized how close you were standing. Thinking about it now made your face heat up for some reason. The redhead raised one hand as though she was about to take an official oath. She held your gaze unwaveringly as she spoke.
“I promise you, that I will not make a mess in your home anymore. And I solemnly swear that you won’t get in trouble for helping me in any way whatsoever.”
Something about her demeanor told you she wasn’t lying. You shake your head satisfied, a small but relieved smile taking over, some of the tension and apprehension leaving your body. She smiled tentatively in return, extending her hand to you in greeting.
“The name’s Natasha.”
Glancing at her proffered hand, you took it and gave it a small shake.
“Nice to officially meet you, Natasha.”
#natasha romanoff x reader#natasha romanoff#reader insert#marvel fanfiction#black widow x reader#natasha romanoff x female reader
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THE ART OF SEDUCTION Reader Insert
After working months at his side, whether it be in the field, during training, debriefing in his office, or simply occupying the same space in quieter moments- reading in the lounge with a cup of tea, enjoying a few precious moments of peace, you were no closer at deciphering the gorgeous mystery that was Harry Hart. Your time with him merely reinforced what you already knew. And what you knew had, much to your chagrin, become increasingly and disconcertingly distracting with every moment you shared space with him. Harry was beautiful, obviously. You determined that the moment you saw him. Even from a distance, he cut a striking figure. But it was the understated way he acknowledged his own appearance, knew that it was pleasing and accepted it with grace, dignity and a matter-of-factness, that only made him more attractive.
Harry Hart’s appeal wasn’t just based on his good looks. There were other men who had more classically balanced features. It was significantly more than good genes or the symmetry of bone structure. Not that his purely physical attributes were lacking in any regard. You had already committed to memory every aspect of his form and figure, from his hair, with a distinguished flurry of silver, all the way down to his feet in their gleaming oxfords. No doubt polished with every wearing; they carried him with purposeful movement and long measured strides.
Harry Hart was a tall man. Often folding his legs as gracefully as possible under tables and desks that were just a breath too short to accommodate a man of his stature. He carried himself differently. Always with a posture, walk, a gait, that had a purpose. Never rushed unnecessarily, he possessed the ease of someone in full control of his physical body. His movements were light, sharp, and kinetic. When he was still, he held himself straight and tall, without strain. In more casual moments, his weight would shift to one side or the other, or he might lean against a support, breaking up the long, precise lines of his full height.
Mostly, this had to do with a hyper awareness of his environment and his place in it. If Harry needed to calm a new recruit, he might stand with authority, but tuck his hands in his pockets, conveying a sense of ease and familiarity. When confronting an adversary, his stature seemed to grow as he pulled himself to his full height. In those rare moments where he was free from personal and professional obligations responsibilities, as much as he could ever be, his figure would take on smooth curves and relaxed angles. The space he occupied was his to claim, mould, and manipulate. And Harry Hart did so with his body, his voice, his gaze, his way of dress.
Surprisingly, you discovered that Harry was a man who often communicated through physical touch. As a man of few words, who often guarded his privacy and personal life, you expected him to be even more reserved with his body language, to be even more wary of close physical contact. Quite the contrary, he was often more generous with a hand on the shoulder or a gentle pat on the back as a form of approval or encouragement. Sometimes, he would place his hand over yours as gesture of support and understanding. Harry was more demonstrative with contact and touch than he was with using words of praise or comfort. Even his proximity, whether it be as a figure in the distance or his physical closeness, could affect the energy of the room.
Rolling it over in your mind, you realised that it made sense that Harry would be comfortable communicating through touch. In some regards, he was a very tactile man, a sensual man, if not overtly so. He was a man that celebrated the senses.
In his office, though minimalist by Kingsman standards, austere even, there were touches of extravagance not influenced by tradition. All the furniture, as well as being beautifully made, focused on designs that were hospitable as well as functional. The chairs were comfortable. The lounge was upholstered in a dark, rich leather, well oiled and worn smooth by years of use. It was masculine, but also soft and inviting, a piece that you could relax and sink into. A sumptuous throw. Pillows covered in dark velvet that were actually soft, not just decorative.
The items that did adorn his office were obviously selected thoughtfully and with care. The enticingly smooth curves of a vase, seemingly out of place, brilliant jade against the subdued tones of hunter green, tartans and plaid and the deep tones of polished wood and leather. The delicate lines and breathtaking color of a framed butterfly. A small, sterling silver paperweight in the shape of a terrier. A cut crystal decanter, with matching tumblers, no doubt holding an insanely old and very expensive scotch.
There was an emphasis, not on the prestige or price of an object, but on its, color, texture, lines that were pleasing or challenging to the eye. Not as a flaunting of wealth, but a source of pleasure. It wasn’t an ostentatious display of the rich, it was the luxury of selection and taste. Any piece of clothing or fabric that touched his body directly was often luxurious, as well, scarfs, gloves, fine cashmere or calfskin leather. Though you had no way of knowing, you assumed his sheets would be of the highest thread count.
Harry’s manner of dress was immaculate and as precise as the polished, clipped tones of his aristocratic accent. He presented himself as a man who was self-assured with his appearance. Whatever he wore, he wore with confidence. He wore it well, without vanity, pretension, ego or conceit. Not that he needed the help of his wardrobe to face the world. His manner of dress seemed to highlight, magnify his innate sense of self. He was not a flashy man, but he appreciated the expert craftsmanship that went into a finely cut suit. That good clean lines, quality materials, understated but interesting details could be the final polish on an already finely honed presentation.
His clothing was the other area where he allowed himself some extravagance. A firm believer in the principle that if one’s self and surroundings are not only presentable, but impeccable, then one will always be prepared for what surprises life may decide to throw in one’s direction. In his line of work, unpredictability was as predictable as the sun rising in the east and setting in the west. His wardrobe countered the erratic nature of life as an agent. Thus, his was a look of man who had his life in order.
Harry Hart was a man of consistency. His tie was an unfailing full Windsor, tucked under the spread collar of a pristine white shirt. An equally crisp pocket square, folded neatly, peeked from his breast pocket. French cuffs were secured with custom gold links, bearing the Kingsman insignia. His suits were mostly double breasted, in classic shades of black, charcoal, navy and grey and cut in a wool that was appropriate for the occasion, whether solid, pinstriped, or woven with a pattern such as herringbone, or houndstooth. After years as a Kingsman agent, he had amassed a considerable and varied wardrobe that consisted of classic suits, formal wear, overcoats, ties, scarves, for any occasion or any type of mission. Each Kingsman agent also wore a gold signet ring on the pinky of their dominant hand. Harry wore the ring on his right.
Kingsman suits were cut close to the body, but designed with allowances made to accommodate weapons, ensure maneuvrability and flexibility in all types of action. They were also bulletproof. It was a feature created after decades of experimenting with different textiles and weaves and exploring processes and techniques that would result in a material that could withstand the velocity and impact of of a bullet shot at close range. The lightweight, flexible lining was sewn into every Kingsman suit and many times proved to be a lifesaver.
Shoulder harnesses were used for carrying. Not belt clips. Belts constricted the body whereas a harness allowed freedom of movement. They were also easily and quickly detachable in case they needed to be removed. Belts, on the other hand, though they had their uses, could also cost valuable seconds when needed to be taken off. The carry position prevented printing and maintained the lines of Kingsman’s suits.
The fine, bespoke tailoring emphasized Harry’s height and build. Trousers were slim cut, long and hemmed with a perfect mid break. He preferred the simple Oxford rather than brogues. He styled his hair in a classic, handsome cut, and was always clean shaven, (unless in the field where there was no opportunity for a straight razor shave). His aftershave and cologne were unobtrusive but memorable. Rather than preceding him, the warm and masculine sent of woods and spices, with hints of cardamon, bergamot, the tactile sensuality of rich leather and suede, would linger after his departure, like a layer of warm dark velvet. Even his hands were beautiful. Beautiful but not delicate. Large wide palms, long elegant fingers, his nails were neat and clipped. They sometimes bore the marks of time spent in the field. They were strong and capable.
Overall, Harry Hart had the appearance of a man who embraced classics, honoured tradition, but defined his look with his own individual aesthetic personality and sense of style.
In quieter moments, when you had the opportunity to watch him without being too obvious or call attention to yourself, you allowed your curiosity to wonder over all the small details and mannerism that were unique to Harry. How his fingertips would gently find the arm of his glasses and rest lightly there, when he was thoughtful or pondering a question, as if it helped him focus or think. The automatic gesture probably developed after years of transmitting information through the eyeglasses, which also functioned as communication devices. Through your experience in human psychology, you recognised this as a self soothing gesture. Finding the comfort of something familiar. You were fairly sure that Harry was aware of this gesture and allowed himself some habits, that were, not particularly productive but, helpful nonetheless. Rubbing his thumb along the band of his signet ring. The way he would always shoot his cuffs when rising from his seat. Or run the palm of his hand along the back of his head, smoothing down the already polished hair.
Never had you met someone who had the ability to asses and evaluate any given situation as throughly and unerringly as Harry. Whether it entailed clearing a room, identifying a mark, or even just something as simple as slowing his pace when you walked along side him so you wouldn’t have to struggle to keep up. He was constantly aware of his surroundings and deconstructing what needed to happen to make the environment more pleasing, the conversation more engaging, the meeting more productive, the mission more likely to succeed. He was nothing if not thoughtful. Thus, when you walked with him, he always slowed and allowed you to maintain your own graceful stride.
His physical appearance, his exacting nature, his precise moments, his carefully maintained wardrobe, his formal patterns of speech, his refined accent, not to mention his good looks could intimidate even the most confident agent, let alone a green one. That was until the person in question realised that this outward perfection was merely the layer that he presented to the world.
It would seem impossible for man to be blessed with so many gifts, but Harry Hart proved to be the exception to the rule, for he was as charming and gracious as he was handsome. His quick wit, his clever way with words, as well as his dry, incisive sense of humor could enthrall even the most unwilling participant.
He could placate the most difficult handler, assuage the most reluctant agent, enchant the most reserved target, or ingratiate himself into the most inhospitable of circumstances. When Harry turned on the full force of his charm, the people he met, let alone the men and women who worked with him, frequently found themselves elevated in his presence, their own experience heightened by his vitality and charisma. They left the experience a little breathless, a little awestruck, a little seduced by Harry Hart. You were no exception. And you had been spending a lot of time with him.
————
You found yourselves alone one evening at the manor. In the lounge, when you both happened to desire a drink at the same time. Most of the Kingsman had already departed for the shop if they were returning to the city. The rest had dispersed to their own private quarters, or were participating in whatever activity they had planned for the evening. The lounge was quiet. They way he liked it. Apparently, it was the way you preferred it as well.
Harry spotted you the same moment you lifted your gaze at the new arrival. Your eyes narrowed slightly in pleasure at the sight of him. You gave him a small, but welcoming smile. The musical clink of crystal against glass as he poured a scotch from the fully stocked bar was the only sound aside from the cracking logs in the grand fireplace.
The club was a vast space with a vaulted ceiling. The stately fireplace stood on the far wall. Like most of the manor, it was dressed in masculine shades of dark brown and hunter greens, tartan and plaids. Polished hardwood furniture, mostly antique, and historical paintings, displaying the rich history of Kingsman, whispered class and wealth. In the center was an arrangement to accommodate a more substantial group with larger sofas and chaises surrounding a massive polished low wooden table.
Around the room were smaller clusters of tables and leather club chairs tucked into alcoves for smaller gatherings or intimate conversations.
It was at one these clusters that he found you, tucked in a quiet corner near the fireplace.
In the most relaxed arrangement Harry allowed himself while still on Kingsman property, he had his coat draped over his arm. Dressed in his shirtsleeves, tie and shoulder holster, tumbler in hand, he approached you, also with a pleasant but small smile. Pleased that you were the one that was sharing this space with him.
You were dressed quite differently from how Harry first remembered you. Well, your clothes hadn’t been memorable, but you had been. Since you were not a knighted agent, they weren’t quite sure how to classify you yet, you took the freedom to dress beyond the Kingsman uniform. Though always appropriate and surprisingly on brand, you were not quite regulation. If you were out in the field, you were in tactical, or the women’s version of the kingsman suits. You even had the shop tailor some custom pieces so you could have more diversity. When you were at Kingsman HQ or at the shop in support, you dressed appropriately, but in your own style. There were handfuls of fashionable men at Kingsman. You couldn’t turn around and not run into a gentleman turned out in Kingsman’s finest. But an attractive, stylish woman was a rarer sight. Even Harry noticed the heads that turned when you walked by.
Walking toward you, Harry took the time to observe your appearance, he told himself as spies always did out of habit. Today, you remained on the property. Without the need for being in the field, this would be your most proper look. You were dressed in a way that was very elegant, but sexy at the same time. Or, perhaps it wasn’t supposed to look sexy. Harry set that observation aside. Not the time nor the place, he thought to himself.
You were dressed in a slim, knee length pencil skirt in a very deep shade of oxblood red. It was velvet he noted when he saw the sheen of the fabric as you shifted your knees in his direction. A matching tailored jacket, that, like him, you had removed and draped over the back of your chair. Topped with a delicate, almost sheer silk blouse the color of sun bleached bone. It had tiny pearl buttons down the front, and lace detailing at the collar, cuffs and similar detailing along the button placket. A narrow dark brown leather belt circled your waist with a gold clasp rather than a prong buckle. Dark brown suede court shoes with a tall, but reasonable heel. Your makeup was minimal and natural. You looked like you had just somehow heightened your features, but in no discernible way he could describe.
As Harry got closer, he was able to notice even smaller details. Your beautiful hair, was twisted up and away from your face and secured in some secret way women have where it would stay perfectly in place by means he could never quite see. Your accessories were feminine and understated. Small gold earrings in the shape of teardrops, a simple gold cuff around your wrist, a Kingsman issue watch on the other. A signet ring on your own pinkie. Your nails were trimmed short and clean, either no polish or something bare. A thin gold chain around your neck with a small solid gold version of the Kingsman pendant.
Harry didn’t know what he wanted a woman to look like until he first saw you. The first time, on that first chaotic night, he had the same thought. He could give you a basic description of what you were wearing, but he could describe every feature of your face. The way you looked when you were reflective. The line of your jaw when you were determined.
And then, for the very first time he saw you, dressed, properly, walking down the long marble corridor of the HQ manor, when you had the opportunity to present yourself on your own terms. Harry thought, this is what I want a woman to look like. It wasn’t that you were model beautiful, or that your features were perfect. In London, on the streets, you could see plenty of models. They were beautiful, no doubt, and pleasing to look at, but once you were done, you were able to go about your day without a second thought.
Your beauty had substance. The fact that Harry knew what your skill set included, to know what you had overcome to be where you were, to be the person you were, made your beauty a real tangible thing, regardless of what you were wearing. Perhaps it was that, whatever you wore, you made it part of you. It wasn’t just a pretty skirt or a flattering blouse, it was the way you wore it that made him notice you. You could have looked completely different, with completely opposite features. Harry would have still have felt the same. And he would still say, this is what I want a woman to look like.
You posessed the capacity to stir his heart. Something that had been quiet and still for a very long time. Even something that Harry thought no longer had the desire to be moved. It was certainly not something he was seeking. He, long ago, had accepted the fact that the life of agent isn’t one that fosters lasting relationships. Relationships were based on communication and he had far too many secrets as a Kingsman.
Harry was beyond the time in his life for these kinds of thoughts. He knew he had been handsome in his youth. He had his fair share of relationships and much more than his fair share of sexual encounters. He was aware that his looks had carried him quite well as he got older and that if he wanted, there were women, very desirable ones, that would be more than willing to engage in a casual relationship. Harry was by no means vanilla. It wasn’t that he was prudish in the least, or one to deny himself physical pleasure. If you were not exactly who you were, then he would have most likely allowed himself to pursue you and enjoyed whatever that relationship had to offer. The crux of it was, that he would not be as attracted to you, or charmed by you if you weren’t exactly who you were. He would not want your as much as he did if you were any different.
——
Harry set these thoughts aside as he approached you. Even though it was obvious you were alone, Kingsman manners never failed. Never ask a lady directly if she’d like your company. Give her a polite way to refuse without making her say no. She will indicate if your presence if desired.
“Excuse me, miss.” he opened. “Is this seat taken?”
You awarded him with an amused smile. You always enjoyed his little game of manners.
You nodded toward the chair. Please.
Draping his coat on the back of his chair, just as you did, He adjusted his slacks so he could sit down comfortably and gracefully. The club chairs were low and designed to sink back into. Harry took his seat, adjusted a little until he, too, was settled in.
Since both of you were now relatively stuck in your respective positions, where you couldn’t move without significant effort, Harry simply raised his glass in your direction. You followed suit.
You were pleased when he was comfortable enough to sit in silence with you. It was one of the first tells you would look for in asset or mark. Did they have enough self assurance to be silent? Were they uncomfortable, awkward, fidgety? Did they try to fill the silence? Most often, if they lacked confidence, you would notice these tells immediately. One of your favourite activities was to sit in silence.
It was also one of your favourite activities to look at Harry Hart. The fact that he was handsome was no surprise. When you initially started at Kingsman, this was simply an objective observation, like masterful way he handled weaponry. Or the fact that he was right handed. The more you were partnered in the field, the closer you became, both in proximity and as colleagues, his physical attributes began to affect you in ways that continued to make you increasingly uncomfortable.
You were aware his body was that of a man that you admired and looked up to. Tall, broad shouldered, slim hipped. Strong, driven, powerful. You became aware of all the things that his body could do. You had the opportunity to observe him every time you were in the field, in combat, in action.
But you also began to discern a softness, a gentleness that he could convey when he gathered you up after a surprising blast had knocked you off your feet. Hands that smoothed back your hair from your forehead upon waking up in medical after a particularly dangerous mission. A warm hand on your shoulder as you successfully accomplished a challenging task.
You were aware that as your mentor, Harry had a responsibility to maintain a professional relationship. But with escalating frequency, you imagined how it would feel to have him pressed up against you, to feel his body, purposeful and confident.
————
The evening was relaxed. Both of you, without the urgency of an upcoming mission to prepare, took the opportunity to simply rest and unwind. A seldom occasion. Feeling more and more at ease when both of you were together, you allowed yourself a little space to test the waters. When engaging targets, if they seemed comfortable sitting in silence in your company, would they make direct eye contact? You took another small sip of your drink, savoured it for a moment, and swallowed.
Hmmm. You were very curious about HarryHart and you were feeling surprisingly playful. You wanted to try something. Let’s say an experiment in tradecraft. You waited until you caught his eye. Harry seemed amused and matched your eye contact with equal directness. You were pleased that he made eye contact and even more pleased when he maintained it. But he was a spy, after all. Making and maintaining eye contact would be elementary for him.
With a little cheekiness on your part, you raised your glass to your lips again and took a small sip. He did not waver. His eyes even took on a little bit of curious amusement. You held the scotch on your tongue, pulled it to the back of your mouth, rolled the scotch around a little bit longer than necessary, before you swallowed.
Neither of you would look away first. You gave him a half smile, half smirk, crinkled your eyes a bit in amusement. You seemed to be saying. Ok. Your turn.
Harry had never seen your in this kind of playful mood and he suddenly found himself enjoying this little match immensely.
He could more than participate in this game. He, literally, had decades more experience than you. An agent may be able to seduce. But a gentleman agent was a master at the art of seduction. And Harry Hart was the consummate gentleman agent. One did not get to where he was in life without knowing how to pleasure a woman. He was often told he had beautiful and talented hands. That may have been years ago, but those kinds of skills, they stayed with a man.
A quick raise of his brow. Darling, challenge accepted.
Holding your eyes with his, he lowered his glass just enough to where it was in your sight line, but slightly off to the side, at the edge of your peripheral vision. You would still be able to hold eye contact, but would have to make an effort not to glance down at his glass. Especially, when you saw what he was going to do with it.
Harry held your gaze suddenly with an intense focus you were unprepared for. Out of the corner of your eye you saw that he was holding his glass, cupping it in the palm of one hand. He began to simply roll it around gently, as one would while enjoying a proper scotch. He rolled it around harmlessly, in a slow, lazy, rhythmic pattern.
You had to concentrate a little harder not to look away, but you kept his gaze. If you were uncomfortable, you didn’t show it. You hoped your gaze held a similar intensity as Harry’s. His felt, well, piercing, for lack of a more appropriate word.
This was certainly turning out to be an interesting evening, Harry thought. You seemed determined to stick this through. He would be required to dial his technique up a notch. He nested the heavy base in the center of his palm and let it rest there for awhile without moving. Then, once again, he started rolling the glass in his hand, not to stir the liquid, but to feel the surface of glass itself. He bounced the glass, lightly, as if testing the weight and feeling the heaviness.
The movement was subtle, slow, and sensuous. He let his hand explore the texture of the smooth surface. The base of his thumb pressed against the glass in slow, languid circles, sometimes rolling on to the pad of his thumb, sometimes to his finger tip. But he did this as if he were doing it unconsciously, because he was staring at you with a focus and intensity that said you were the only woman on earth, and that he wanted you.
There was truth to the term, the male gaze. It was not looking at something through a man’s eyes, it was seeing into something as a man. There was a reason why they called this particular look penetrating. It was a gaze of desire, a singularly male want and need. If done properly, it was a way to make love to a woman without touching her. It was far beyond physical contact. It wasn’t hard for him to harness his essential masculine energy. Harry had done it for years on countless honey traps in his younger days with the agency. He hadn’t thrown the full force of himself to seduce in quite awhile and found that he was enjoying a little flex of his muscle. If desire had a name, at that moment, it would be called Harry Hart. He let his desire roll off of him in waves.
What you didn’t quite understand, was that the game you were playing with him, wasn’t about who could keep eye contact the longest. It was a question of who was going to be seduced and who was going to be the seducer. You were approaching what you thought was a staring contest as a battle of the wills, which was why you were going to fail. Making eye contact may be a test of power and confidence, but that was a quick, brief test. A simple meeting or a darting of the eyes. It was very easy to find out who was going to be able to make and hold contact. However, eye contact for a prolonged period of time, especially between a man and a woman? It became something quite different. It was a game of seduction. It wasn’t a test of power. It was a test of control. Control of two things in this case, the seducer’s own desire, and the desire of the other person. Could the seducer harness his own desire to control the seduced.
You had not faltered yet. He raised to single brow. Would you like me to keep going?
You narrowed your gaze. Please, do.
The expression on his face all but said out loud. “You asked for it.”
Harry saw the flush in your cheeks when you noticed what he was doing with his glass. Your breathing intensified. Your pupils dilated and there was nothing you could do to stop it.
They were very small movements, but very deliberate movements. He cupped the bottom of the glass in one palm, fingers spread as if he were holding up a small tray. Using only his middle finger, the rest of his hand now cupping the base, he began to stroke the center of the glass. Like he was using his finger to say, come here. In very slow, very deliberate, beyond suggestive movements. His other hand simply rested on the top rim of the glass. Gently holding it in place while he moved his bottom hand. He did this without twitching another muscle in his body, as if nothing had changed.
Your eyes widened. Holy fuck, you thought. With very exact and explicit movements of his hands, Harry was not just implying, but overtly demonstrating how he used them to give pleasure to a woman. The shock of seeing him within the frame of something so blatantly sexual, all the while looking at you the entire time? It was intensely arousing.
Harry was not only looking at you, he was positively devouring you with his gaze. You could feel him, his energy in pulses of heat. This wasn’t merely eye contact. This was something unexpected and you were not prepared for it. Harry was suddenly changed, maybe not changed, but different. He was harder, stronger, more demanding. He was more of everything. The polite, honorable, considerate gentleman was still there, but now he added an aspect of himself that you had never seen or experienced before. The man was still Harry Hart, but it was also as if a part of him had been unleashed, whatever primal energy that was held in check by the handsome suits and the manners and the chivalry, had been released.
You fought to maintain your composure. He knew exactly what he was doing. His hands moved expertly, and with ease. His gaze, became even more intense, if that was even possible.
Harry continued to play and to tease as he held the glass in his palm. You knew where he had his hand. You could feel the exact placement as if it were on your own body. The base of his palm would cup your center, with the rest of his fingers spreading between your legs. His middle finger was still moving in achingly slow circles, one direction, then slowly moving in the other direction. He curled his finger under, using his knuckle, rolling it in tiny circles. Not even really moving just shifting the pressure moving from one side to the other, from top to bottom.
You saw in his eyes, that he knew, that you were not only being affected by his movements, but you were feeling sensations as if he were touching you directly.
It was the most erotic experience of your life.
Here was this beautiful man, still dressed as properly as ever in his dress shirt and tie, his shoulder holster with his side arm. His perfect hair, his perfect face. With all his dignity and respect, relaxing comfortably back into his chair, his legs spread wide, an ankle crossed over his knee, one elbow resting casually on the arm of his leather chair. Radiating such a profound sexual energy, that without even touching you, had the ability to control your body with only his eyes and the the way he moved a glass in his hand. He was so confident in his movements. His expression said, however brief this moment, that he owned you, that you were his, and he knows that you wants it that way. He can see it all over your face. He can see it in your eyes.
——
Harry wasn’t even close to being done.
He took his other hand, laying his palm over the glass, as if it was resting there. On the other side of the glass, where his thumb fell, he began to roll it around in very explicit, very familiar circles.
He felt himself harden as his own arousal grew. He didn’t try to stop it. Instead of letting it distract him, he channeled that energy through him and into you. Allowing you to witness the physical evidence of his own desire would strengthen his hold. Never underestimate the power of the imagination. You would see it. Your mind would do the rest.
Harry saw your lips part, even the slightest bit. Your chest rising and falling under your ladylike blouse as your breath quickened. Your knees pressed tightly together. He watched your face very, very carefully and intently, watching the subtle changes in your expressions as he shifted the movements of his hands, knowing that you were feeling his movements in your body. Every time your brow would furrow, or you took a sharp intake of breath, or would clench your pretty hands, as he moved his own, he knew you were feeling pleasure. And that he was the source of that pleasure.
Harry knew that there were men who were turned on by violence. For him, however, there was nothing more erotic than the sight of a woman experiencing the pleasure that you were giving her. So, he was especially aroused when he was free to look at the nuances of your face and body freely and openly. Your pleasure had reached a constant as you moved almost imperceptibly to the consistent rhythm of his hand.
And you still did not drop your gaze. Harry knew, now that you were fully aroused, you would not break eye contact. You probably couldn’t at this point if you tried. For, half of your pleasure was a result of seeing the man who was controlling your pleasure. And seeing that you pleased him, that he was also sexually aroused, intensified your pleasure. And you wanted to offer that to him, very willingly. Harry was finding out much about you in these few moments. Things that he wasn’t even sure you knew about yourself. Very few women would have been comfortable enough with their sexuality to be purely on the receiving end of pleasure. In the intimacy of their own bedroom in a committed relationship. Let alone in an extremely public and therefore vulnerable way. With a man who may be, slightly off limits. Which, in fact, probably added to your pleasure.
To see just how much you were under his thumb, pun aside, Harry paused for a moment. He kept his hand, his fingers in the exact same place. He just stilled. And watched you. After a few moments he could see the tiniest furrow of your brow. When he continued to remain still, he saw the movement he waiting for. You probably didn’t even know you had made it. It was the slightest lifting and rolling of your hips. He didn’t realize he could be more turned on, but he felt himself grow harder. It was the motion every woman made, in his experience, when they wanted more, when they were asking for more, and when they were begging for more. The ability to actively listen and comprehend another person was the most profound influencing tactic one could hone in communication, and therefore seduction. Which is exactly what he was doing. In a very non verbal, very physical way.
Harry began his movements again, with more intensity and purpose. He let his finger, for the first time, slide all the way up the side of the glass, even letting it lift with the upward movement of his palm. He saw your body move as if you were receiving him.
He knew you were experiencing waves of intense pleasure. He could tell you wanted to close your eyes and tip your head back. As Harry witnessed your need, he went in for his last movements. His palm pressing up into the base of the glass, his thumb rolling in small firm circles and his entire middle finger along the entire length of the glass, the tip almost reaching the top of the rim. As if his finger were deep inside you, he made deliberate strokes while pressing into the glass, slow, but then gradually increasing in speed and pressure.
Harry knew, that you knew, the exact two parts he was pleasuring.
You lips parted, your breathing grew heavier. You had no idea what was going to happen next, all you felt were waves of pleasure. The only thing you could concentrate on was not losing eye contact with the man in front of you.
Harry knew at this point, he had let what was a silly, flirtatious game, go too far. He also knew this began as a challenge, and Harry Hart was never one to back down from a challenge. He also knew that he never purposely lost a game. If it took climaxing for you to break eye contact, then so be it.
Harry also knew he was mesmerized by the sight of you. He didn’t know if he could stop. But it didn’t matter because he didn’t want to. This moment had to hit the list of the top most erotic experiences of his life. Both fully clothed, siting in separate chairs, more than six feet apart. With only eye contact between you. He didn’t know if he’d experienced something more intensely arousing, knowing that he was the one you were feeling when you made yourself come.
Harry began to see the tell tale tremors, the quickening breath, your lips parting with cries that you desperately wanted to make that you would not let yourself, and still, you were trying to hold on. Psychologically you were making it harder for yourself, denying your own release would only make it that much more physically intense when you had to give in.
It was at that moment, that a door banged within the manor and someone appeared at the large entrance of the club room.
“Harry. That you?”
Damn it. It was Eggsy.
“Just headin’ out.” Eggsy called over. “What’s up? Looks like you two’re having a staring contest. Whose winning?”
“It’s a tie” Harry replied.
Eggsy held up his hand in a quick wave and left.
Harry gave you a quick glance, where you were still trying to maintain eye contact, wait no, you were just staring into the space behind him, concentrating on something he could not see.
——
You knew you had to stop staring at Harry, so you looked past his shoulder into the empty space behind him. At this point, even the sight of him might set you off. You were still right at the cusp of your climax and your body was still so aroused you were afraid that any movement could push your over the edge. You wanted to tell Harry to leave, but you couldn’t think of a way without embarrassing or offending one or both of you. All you could do at the moment was sit quietly. So that’s what you did. You were waiting for your body to catch up with the rest of you and settle down. Harry was waiting patiently until you were ready to move or speak.
After a bit of time, you glanced over at him, made sure it was safe. It was, and you began to relax a little, though your body still felt like a flame that was ready to ignite with any hint of friction. You just needed to stay still for awhile.
You saw Harry watching you, his face both concerned and amused.
He broke the silence.
“And that, my darling,” Harry said pointedly. “Is how one create’s an effective honey trap.”
In an attempt to further diffuse the situation, he wanted to be frank and direct with you and not to brush what just happened under the rug. That would be awkward for both of you. He did not want you to feel embarrassed or ashamed or uncomfortable with him or what had happened. The best way was to be as blunt as possible. He pushed down on his palms and rose out of his chair with minimal effort.
“My dear, I’ve been in the spy business for over 30 years. One does not get this far without knowing how to pleasure a woman.”
He winked at you.
“Not to worry, you’ll get there.”
Harry reached behind him for his coat, draped it over his arm, but not before you clearly noticed his own erection. Which before had just been a suggestion in the shadows. He’s hard.
The thought made you flame all over again.
“I need to take my leave. Will you be alright, here?”
All you could do is nod. You didn’t trust your voice yet.
Always the gentleman, he leaned over and brushed his lips against the top of your hair.
“Thank you for the lovely evening.”
You still couldn’t look directly at him so you turned your head slightly to the side and gave him a small nod. With a quick squeeze of your arm, you heard his departing footsteps. He was heading to the tunnels. He was going back into the city, He wouldn’t be staying at he manor. You didn’t know if you were glad or disappointed.
You were grateful to him for providing at least a somewhat graceful way to exit the situation, referring to the seduction technique that ALL agents are trained in. Harry was letting you chalk it up to a learning experience.
You opened your mouth. Nothing came out. You tried again.
“Fuck.”
It was the first word that you had said all evening.
——
“Fuck.”
Harry thought as he boarded the train back into the city. He had actually planned on staying at the manor, but with what just happened with you, he wasn’t sure if that would be the best course of action. It took all of his self control to remove himself from any temptation by leaving the place entirely. Making it impossible for him to act in a way that was inappropriate. Not that what had just happened would qualify as appropriate. At least it had the veil of a lesson on seduction. He wasn’t sure it would convince judges, but he found it a weak, but passable excuse.
No, the problem for the moment was that all Harry could see was your face as he pleasured you. How your lips parted, your breasts underneath your blouse, the flush of your cheeks. He wanted to hear what your cries would’ve sounded like. He wanted to be the one to make you cry out. His sex drive, always healthy, may have had a prolonged dormant period in recent times. But now it was raging like a fire that he unleashed and now he couldn’t put out. By letting the full force of it out this evening, it was fully awake and needed something to do. Harry had feared that if he had stayed at the manor even a moment longer, he wouldn’t have been able to help himself and would’ve taken you and had you right there.
If he could do that to you with his eyes and just the suggestion of his hands, he couldn’t imaging what it would be like pleasuring you with his entire body. Harry knew he wouldn’t be able to sleep until he took care of himself, and when he did, he would allow himself the sight of your trembling, responsive, body underneath his own as he gave you the pleasure he knew you so desperately wanted, joined together as he felt your body shudder around him when you climaxed, feeling his own release as he heard you cry out his name in pleasure.
#harry hart#harryhart#kingsman#kingsman the golden circle#kingsman the secret service#ardent#kingsman fanfic#colinfirth#colin firth#kingsman fanfiction#kingsmanmovie#kingsman ff#kingsman fan fiction#harryhartfanfiction#harry hart fan fiction
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Office Neighbors - Part One
a/n: OKAY! this is my new love, professor!Harry x professor!Y/N. This is a slow burn, so buckle up because it’s going to be a longgggg ride. enjoy! (also reblogs/feedback is super helpful) not proofread
warnings:none yet...I suppose some fluff? slight angst??
words: 20K
masterpost
You were all cozied up in bed, in a cocoon of blankets. Even though it was August, your apartment had central air, and it was glorious. You loved nothing more than practically sleeping in a burrito of blankets year round. It was a new place to go along with your new job.
Y/F/N Y/L/N, Adjunct Professor, Communication Department: that was your new title. You had your master’s degree, and now you could finally move on to get your PhD. Your specialization was social media and the like, but you also had background in rhetoric and film. The few faculty that served on your search committee were quite impressed with the research you had already started conducting. Your main research was about the pros and cons of anonymity online. The school was a perfect fit. You would be teaching a couple of the intro courses for the major, and some special topics courses.
Today was faculty orientation. You would be given yet another tour of the university, go through some technology workshops, and be shown to your office. You were excited because you hadn’t been able to meet all of your faculty yet, and you’d be going to your first faculty meeting towards the end of the day.
You check your phone and see that it’s going to be in the mid 80’s today. You sigh and get up to start your morning routine. Once your face is washed and your teeth are brushed, you rummage through your closet to see what would be the most appropriate thing to wear. A flowy dress, in theory, would be a good idea, but the idea of sweating between your legs didn’t sound all that great. You settle on a pair of emerald green shorts that fall just above your knee, perfectly appropriate length for school. Plus, they were just a cute pair of shorts in general. You pair it with a white short-sleeve blouse, and tuck it into the shorts to show the shape of your body. Next, you needed to tackle your hair. You could leave it down, but sweat and humidity were not your friends. You had gotten into the habit of parting your hair down the middle more, you were twenty-six now it was okay to go with your natural part. You thought it made you look more adult, whatever that meant. So, you part it, and pull up each side to make pig tails, then you create a bun on each side. You looked professional, but fun. Just the vibe you were going for. You only apply a little makeup, in fear of it melting off of you. You slip on a pair of white tennis shoes for comfort, gather your laptop and other things, and head out.
Rolling through Dunkin Donuts, you treat yourself with a vanilla late instead of your usual, it was your first day after all. You’re not feeling too hungry yet, so you don’t get anything to eat. A college habit that just hasn’t died yet: barely eating anything until the late afternoon. You park at the building where your last meeting of the day will be, always thinking ahead. You sip on your coffee and enjoy your stroll across the beautiful campus to your first meeting of the day. There were a few people in the classroom, and you shyly smile and wave as you take a seat.
Policies and procedures are talked about after everyone in the cohort introduces themselves. You notice that you’re the only CM hire, there were three math hires, two for history, one for CS, two for art, and two for CJ. Some seemed to be around your age, and other seemed older. Everyone was friendly enough. You observed everyone’s posture and body language. You couldn’t help it, you were practically trained to read rooms and people.
The campus tour isn’t anything new. This was about the fifth time you had been walked around by some students to show you where things were, but it was nice to get outside for a good walk. You’re given a break for lunch, and you opt to eat outside at one of the open picnic benches. You notice that most people wanted to eat alone. It was a lot of social time, you yourself didn’t mind the break from talking and sharing.
After lunch are the technology workshops, making sure your account was set up and that you knew how to edit your courses in moodle. It wasn’t terribly difficult, but it was something everyone had to do. Luckily, as a first year professor, you wouldn’t be given any advisees. That you were thankful for. You had taught before, of course, and you loved helping students, but you wanted to make sure you had a good handle on the curriculum before telling students what they should be taking for courses.
Around 3PM a student comes to show you to your academic building, and escort you to your new office before your faculty meeting. There’s a bit of chit chat between the two of you before they open the door to the overly hot building. You cough when you first enter from the humidity.
“Don’t worry, it’s only like this for the first couple of weeks.” She says and you nod.
She guides you straight in where the communication lounge was. Wow, an entire lounge, you think to yourself. There were a few couches and three offices on the main level. A flat screen TV projecting student projects across from one of the couches. She takes you down a spiral staircase where there were four other offices, one vacant for you. There were two computer clusters, a projects and screen, and more couches. You already liked that it seemed to be an interactive space for students.
“Looks like you got the one with the window.” She smiles. “Have a nice day.”
“Thank you so much.” You beam at the student that you’ll probably never see again.
The door was open for you, and two sets of keys were sitting on your desk. The office was bare just waiting for your interior design ideas to be splashed all over it. Your desk was L-shaped with two monitors and a laptop plugged into a docking station. At least you didn’t have to wait to be given your school sanctioned computer. You smile when you see that you were given a Mac as requested. You look at your one window and take a picture so you could find curtains for it. You open and close all of drawers just to make sure there was nothing left behind inside the desk. There were two seats on the other side of the desk for what you would assume would be for student meetings. You could get better ones. You also definitely had room for a small couch, a love seat perhaps.
“Well, look at that, I finally got a new neighbor.”
You jump slightly and turn around. There were a couple of reasons that you were slightly started. Whoever it was that was speaking to you had a deep, gravel-like voice, and they had a British accent. Not totally uncommon at a university, but still something you weren’t expecting. You were also started because no one else was downstairs with you. As you turn around, your cheeks flush when you take in the man with the toothy smile before you.
He was wearing a loose pair of jeans with a couple of rips in them, beaten up white sneakers with different color laces, and a light blue t-shirt. You barely have time to take in his tattoos, or the thick rim of his glasses before he speaks again.
“I’m so sorry, did I startle you?”
“Only slightly.” You give him a half smile. “I’m Y/N.” She extends her hand out to him and he takes it, shaking it gently.
“I’m Harry.”
“Ah! Dr. Styles, yeah. You were away when all of my interviews were happening.”
“Yes, I was away at a conference, but I heard great things. And please, just call me Harry. We’re not a very formal group.” He smirks.
“So, your office is the one next to mine?”
“That’s right.” He nods towards it, and you step out to look at his door.
Dr. Harry Styles, PhD was on his door along with a paper with his office hours printed on it.
“You’re lucky you got one with a window right away, I’m surprised no one wanted to snatch it up. The two across from us don’t have windows, but maybe some people don’t really care about that. I happen to enjoy looking out the window to see what’s happening when my eyes need a rest from the screen.”
You nod your head and peep inside his office. He had put his desk in the back corner of the room. So if students were to come see him, his back would be to them and they could easily see whatever he was doing on the computer, but you notice he also has a corner set up with a few chairs and around coffee table. Perhaps he’s able to discuss things easier this way. Many ideas pop into your head about how you might like to set things up.
“There’s a really great consignment shop downtown with quality furniture for cheap. That’s where I got those that table and chairs.”
“Thanks.” You squint at the three diplomas framed one the wall, and a couple of certifications as well. He had a small shelf with a couple of awards too. “What’s your PhD in?”
“At the base level, Media Studies, but my master’s was in Literary Dynamics. I’m a bit of a book worm as you can see.” He points to the bookshelf full of worn books and you smile. “Got my doctorate here, same as you’re doing, and they offered me a tenure position. Been here about six years total now, I love it.”
You think for a moment to try to put together how old he might be. There was a boyishness to his features, but he also had crinkles around his eyes and a few specs of grey in his hair. Then again, so did you. You greyed early, not that anyone would know since you get highlights in your hair.
“I turn thirty-two in February, if that’s what you were wondering.”
“Oh…I wasn’t, um, I-“
“It’s okay.” He chuckles. “Shall we head up to the faculty meeting? They sent me down here to get you.”
“Yeah, let’s get to it.” You quickly grab your laptop and follow him up the spiral staircase, trying not to look at his butt too much.
He leads you down a hall to a room used for meetings. A large table with people sitting around it casually, a few you recognize from your search committee.
“Y/N!” Lisa, the department chair, exclaims. “Glad Harry found you, come in.” Everyone turns their attention towards you and you smile. You sit down, and Harry goes to sit at the other end of the table. “Right, so let’s go round the table to introduce ourselves to Y/N. Let’s tell her what courses we all teach as well. I’m Lisa, obviously, I teach Game Design and Senior Seminar. I used to teach more, but so it goes when you’re the department chair.”
“Hi, Y/N, I’m Andre, I teach Communication Theory, Digital Media in the New Age, and Journalism.”
“I’m Mateo, good to see you again.” He smiles and you nod. “I teach Tech Comm, Intercultural Communication, and Strategic Communication.”
“I’m Sandra, I teach Global Perspectives in the Media, Film and Video Production Techniques, and basically any other film production courses.” She laughs.
“I’m Harry.” He gives you that same toothy smile. “I teach Communication, Media, and Wellness, Media Effects, Analyzing Screen Media, Literature into Film, and The Craft of Screenwriting.”
“I’m Janette, I teach Philosophy of Communication, Advanced Composition, and Interactive Web Communication.”
“Wonderful, thank you everyone. Don’t worry, Y/N, our admin Lucas will email you all of this info if he hasn’t already.”
“That’s alright, thank you.” She smiles.
“Why don’t you tell everyone what courses you’ll be teaching this fall and spring?”
“Well, this fall I’ll be teaching Communication and Media Studies, Media and Cultural Studies, and Social Media: Technology and Culture. Then in the spring I’ll teach the two intro courses, along with Professional Social Media, and Rhetoric and Semiotics.”
“We’re so happy to have you aboard.” Lisa smiles.
Lisa goes on to explain any policy or curriculum changes. Y/N notices how casual the group is, and also how diverse the group is. It was nice to see.
“Now, I know it’s your first day, and you just moved to the area…feel free to say no, but we’re all headed downtown to the pub for dinner if you’d like to join us.” Lisa says at the end of the meeting.
“That would be great! I haven’t gotten the chance to eat downtown much.”
“Oh, you’ll love the pub.” Sandra says. “Best nachos I’ve ever had.”
You smile and stand with everyone. You notice that everyone just simply walks downtown. You run to your car quickly to drop her bag off, and continues the walk. You all go in and grab a table for seven. You slide into the booth and Harry slides in next to you, followed by Janette and Sandra. Lisa, Mateo, and Andre all sit in the chairs across from you. You weren’t sure if you felt comfortable drinking in front of your colleagues just yet, but you order a vodka-tonic anyways just to be social.
“Sandra’s right, they do have the best nachos here.” Lisa says. “Should we just get a couple of orders of that? We could do one with chicken and one without.”
“I can just pick it off, don’t be silly.” Harry says.
“I, uh , don’t eat meat either, and I can also just pick it off.” You speak up.
“Oh, please.” Lisa scoffs. “We can get one with and one without, no problem.”
“You don’t eat meat?” Harry turns to you slightly.
“Um, no.” He was very close to you, and you weren’t sure how you felt about it. You just met him. You take a sip of your drink so your mouth doesn’t feel so dry. “My doctor told me to cut out red meat, and then I got sick of chicken and stuff, so I just cut it all out.” You shrug.
“Things were sort of the same with me, I just didn’t like how it made me feel after eating it. There’s other ways to get protein. I eat a lot of beans and nuts.”
“Right.” You were curious as to why he was being so open with you.
“Course, I feel like I’m starved half the time, don’t know if that happens to you, but I always keep granola bars in my office if you ever need one.”
“Oh! Um, thank you. Are we allowed to bring mini fridges? I’m really into overnight oats right now, so if I could just leave that stuff in there…”
“We are! It can’t be one of those huge ones though, it’s gotta be one of those ones that looks like a cube.” Harry makes a fake outlines of a box with his fingers. The waitress comes over and takes the orders for the nachos. “Excuse me, love, could I also get a separate order of chicken fingers and fries to go?”
The waitress nods and Harry smiles at her. You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Got someone at home who requested it.” He says before turning his attention to the other conversations at the table.
You wondered whom might me home waiting for him. A wife, a girlfriend…boyfriend? Harry wore a lot of rings, and his nails were painted, but a lot of men were doing that these days so you didn’t want to make any assumptions.
“So, Y/N, where’s home for you?” Andre asks.
“Oh, I’m from Boston originally.”
“Wow! And you moved up here to the mountains. Do you miss the hustle and bustle yet?”
“Not yet, I sort of don’t mind the quiet, although, when I first moved I had trouble falling asleep at night. It was almost too quiet.” You laugh. “But I’ve gotten more used to it. I’m in a great little apartment building, nice neighborhood. I think there are some grad students that I’m neighbors with.”
“Do you going hiking at all?” Mateo asks. “There are some great trails around here.”
“I haven’t gone yet, but I’d certainly be willing to give it a go.”
“We usually all go together before the semester starts.” Lisa says. It surprised you at how close everyone seemed. All different people of different ages. “There’s this really easy mountain about twenty minutes from campus with a beautiful view of the lakes region.”
“Well, I’ll certainly give it a go. Just let me know when.” You smile.
Sandra was absolutely right, the nachos were incredible. Lots of layers of chips and cheese, fresh veggies and guacamole, not to mention the sour cream and salsa. Everyone squares up their checks and heads out. Harry grabs his to go order from the bar. The sun was just barely setting, god, you loved August.
“I parked in the same lot as you, mind if I walk back up with you?” Harry asks after you all say goodnight.
“Not at all.” You smile.
“So, how was the first day? Is your brain ready to explode?”
“Only a little. I think if I take in anymore new information today I’ll pop.” Harry chuckles at that.
“I remember my faculty orientation.” He smirks and shakes his head. “I think I wore a suit, if you can believe it.”
“I’m sure you clean up really well.” You say playfully and he rolls his eyes.
“Well, you’re right about that, but it was super embarrassing at the time. No one told me how casual it was.”
“A little initiation ritual perhaps.”
“Maybe.” He looks at her. “I like your little, um, what do you call those.”
“Oh! My buns?”
“Yeah! Didn’t know if you’d still call them that, or poofs, or something.”
“Poof works.” You chuckle. “I wasn’t sure how humid it was going to be so I just did it up like that. They’re nice for keeping pens or pencils in.”
“Brilliant.” He smiles and reaches his car. “Well, I hope you enjoyed your first day. Feel free to email me if you have any questions. I know being new the area and campus can be overwhelming.”
“Thanks, I appreciate that.” You nod and get into your own car. You take a deep breath as you drive away. “I can do this.” You tell yourself. You enjoyed how friendly everyone was, you could definitely see yourself fitting in with everyone.
//
Harry gets home soon after he leaves campus, only living about fifteen minutes away. He owned a quaint ranch-style home.
“Andy, I’m home, bud!” He yells out. “Got your dinner.” He walks into the living room and sees his son playing video games. “Please don’t tell me you played all day…”
“Hey, dad.” He pauses the game and takes the to go box from Harry. “No, I didn’t play all day.” He rolls his eyes. “I went to the skate park at with Brandon, and then we swam in his pool, remember?”
“Right, I’ll have to say thanks to his parents.” Harry sits down on the couch and sighs.
“Tired?” Andy asks with his mouth full.
“Yeah, it was just a day full of meetings, then we all had dinner. Being social is draining.” He laughs. “How’s the chicken, good?”
“Mhm.”
“Let me get you some napkins…water?”
“Yes, please.”
Harry nods to his son. Harry usually got to be with his son all summer, but this year Andy asked to stay for the school year. It was a rather large discussion that Harry had to have with him and Andy’s mother, who Harry wasn’t on bad terms with, but he certainly didn’t live the one on one chat.
“I just feel like he didn’t get this idea on his own.” She whispered to him in the kitchen.
“I swear I didn’t put the idea in his head. He just asked me out of the blue if he could be enrolled at the middle school. He’s going into fifth grade, maybe he wants a fresh start. He has good friends here, Paige.”
“He has good friends at home too…” She sighs. “I just…so what, now I only get to see him on weekends? I’m his mother, Harry.”
“And I’m his father.”
“You get him for the entire summer.”
“You know it’s not enough time with him. I miss him a lot during the school year.” He drums his fingers on the kitchen counter. “Do you think…I mean…your boyfriend moved in with you, right? Do you think he feels uncomfortable with the change?”
“I don’t know, when Noah and I spoke with him about it he said he was fine with it. He was used to him sleeping over anyways. He’s knowing him for two years now, it’s not that weird.”
“I didn’t say it was weird, I’m talking about comfort. Maybe he just doesn’t want to share his space. It’s not just Noah that moved in, he has a daughter too…”
“Andy and Rachel get along really well. She’s only a year younger than he is.” She sighs again. “I don’t want him thinking he’s being replaced, Harry. What if he doesn’t want to come back into my life once he’s with you all the time?”
“I don’t think that could happen, I’ll make sure it doesn’t.”
“And you’d be able to handle him all year long?”
“Sure, I’d have to change when I’m offering my classes so I’m home at a reasonable time, but I can make it work.” He rubs the back of his neck. “I could always send him home to you if I can’t be around anyways, like how you do with me.”
“Right.” She looks into the living room where Andy had his headphones in, and then back to Harry. “That’s my little baby in there. How can I let him go?”
“You’re not letting him go, you’re letting him grow up a bit. Why don’t we tell him we’ll see how this year goes, and then we can talk more seriously about custody and all that?”
“Alright, yeah, that seems fair.”
“You only live thirty minutes away, I could always drop him off for dinner sometimes, or-“
“Yeah.” She nods. “Well, um, let’s go talk with him then.”
That conversation happened after the July 4th holiday. Andy went home every other weekend to his mother’s, and Harry always talked with him about how his time with her was. Andy would always say that had a great time. He really did just like his friends better where Harry lived, and he was getting older. Maybe he just wanted to live with his dad.
“Alright.” Harry hands him the napkins and water. “Shall we watch a movie and then get you ready for bed?”
“I’m not a baby.” He scoffs.
“You are though, you’ll always be my baby.”
“Dad.” Andy groans. “Don’t be gross.”
“Can’t help it, you’re too stinkin’ cute.”
“Please stop before I barf up my chicken.”
Harry laughs and switches the TV to Netflix. Andy looked a lot like Harry in that he had curly hair and green eyes. He had his mother’s button nose and freckles. Andy liked dressing in basketball shorts and t-shirts, but he also like using a scrunchie or bandana to keep his hair off his face the way Harry did. It was cute.
“Am I going to mum’s this weekend?”
“You are, my darling.” Harry sips on a beer while lounging on the couch during the movie. “That alright?”
“Course.” He shrugs. “I actually have a new skate trick to show Rachel.”
“Do you to go boarding together?”
“Sometimes. She’s better on her skates, though.” He munches on some popcorn. “I kinda like going there on Friday nights because her and Noah go to temple on Saturday mornings, so mum and I get up late and make breakfast together.”
“Good, I’m glad you get that quality time together. I hope you’re paying attention to the culture that Rachel and Noah are bringing into your life, though. She’ll probably have a Bat Mitzvah someday and you’ll have this big party to go to.”
“Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you ever…I mean…it’s sort of weird that you like Noah…”
“Is it?” Harry sits up. “I’ve got no problem with him. He’s a nice guy, takes care of your mum.”
“That’s just it, I have friends with divorced parents and they-“
“Well, mum and I aren’t divorced, Andy, you know that. We never got married.”
“Even still…”
“We wanted to do right by you can be good co-parents. I’d be a real brat if I was rude to him.”
“How come you and mum never got married?”
Harry nearly chokes on his drink. He clears his throat and pauses the movie. Andy never really asked questions like this. He never even saw Harry and Paige as a couple, he never knew them together.
“Um…well…we were really young when you were born. I was twenty when we found out about you, and I was twenty-one when you born, I was just barely finishing school when you came along. Your mum was a year ahead of me, so luckily she got her degree before you were born.”
“Were you together then?”
“Yeah.” Harry nods. “Mum and I dated for about two years in undergrad, and then…well…we found out about you, and we were nervous, but excited.”
“But you didn’t want to get married?”
“I asked her, but she said no.”
“Why?”
“She thought I only wanted to marry her because she was pregnant.” He sighs. “Things like that sort of get complicated when you’re older. I also had a lot going on for school, and she didn’t want me to put my career on hold, she already had a full time job and all that. We tried to make things work, but we both realized a relationship shouldn’t be made to work because of…a baby. We both love you very much, Andy, make no mistake about that, but mum and I make better friends than a couple, I can assure you.”
“Oh.”
“Do you wish we were together sometimes?”
“Sometimes.” He nods. “But only because I hate going back and forth.”
“I’m sorry.” He sighs. “We live as close to each other as we can.”
“I know.” He furrows his brows. “I just don’t like when Noah acts like he’s my dad because he’s not, you are.”
“True, but you should still be respectful. Rachel lives there full time too, so-“
“I can’t stand that either, honestly.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know…ugh, she was on the phone with one of her friends and she referred to me as her brother. Not even step-brother, brother! I’m not her brother.” He huffs.
“Andy…come here.” His son gets up and sits next to him. Harry puts an arm around him and holds him close. “You’re going through a lot of change right now, huh?”
“I guess.” He looks up at Harry. “I think Noah’s gonna ask mum to marry her…which I guess is nice for her, but I’d rather just be with you.”
“You are with me.”
“Permanently, though. I’ve felt better just going over on the weekends, it’s plenty.”
“Mum and I said we’d see how this year at school goes, and then we could decide. I want you here, but I have to respect what she wants too.” He smiles down at him. “Poor you, having two parents who just love you so much.” He kisses his forehead.
“Blegh!” He wipes the spit from his forehead away. “What is wrong with you?” He gets up and goes back to his own seat.
“What? A father can’t love on his son anymore just because he’s in the double digits?”
“Exactly, press play.”
Harry laughs and shakes his head as he starts the movie back up.
//
Your semester was off to a great start. You got your office decorated nicely, and you were able to make it a cozy and homey space, which was good because you spent a lot of late nights there. Balancing teaching multiple sections of three different classes while also making time for research was proving to be a little difficult. Sometimes students were hanging out in the lounge while you were working, so you didn’t feel truly alone.
You were on an incredible team. You met bi-weekly with Lisa just for wellness check ins. She knew how overwhelming the first year could be, and she recommended chatting with Harry. He was the last one to go through all of it, so he would have the best tips. Harry was often out of the building by 3PM most days. He held virtual office hours from his home office. You weren’t entirely sure why he always needed to get home so early. Well, you weren’t sure until the answer slapped you in the face.
“And this is my new neighbor, Y/N.” You hear him say as he knocks on your door. “Got a second?”
“Um…sure.” You stand up and see a young boy with Harry.
“Y/N, this is my son, Andy. He had a half day from school today, so he’s hanging out until it’s time to go home.”
“Oh! Hi, Andy. It’s nice to meet you.” You had foolishly assumed the picture of Harry holding a baby on his desk was a nephew or something since he himself looked so young in the photo.
“Nice to meet you too.” He mumbles.
“What grade are you in?”
“Fifth.”
“Oh, so you just started middle school? How’s that going?”
“Okay, I guess.” He shrugs. “Dad, can I go get a snack at the grille?”
“Sure.” Harry fishes for his wallet and hands Andy a ten dollar bill. “Don’t pig out though, I want you to be hungry for dinner.”
“Okay.” He walks away from them and Harry shakes his head with a smile.
“He’s a human disposal right now.”
“I…didn’t know you had a son.” You say awkwardly.
“Yeah! Yikes, have I not mentioned him before now?” You shake your head no. “Guess that means we haven’t spent enough time together then.” You blush slightly and Harry clears his throat, then pushes his glasses up his nose. “He, um, just turned ten in May…sort of had him young.”
“I see.”
“This is his first time being with me during the school year. He wanted to give this school system a try, couldn’t say no to that.”
“Oh…um…so his mom…?” You didn’t want to pry too much. Harry wore a lot of rings so you weren’t sure if he was married or not.
“She lives about thirty minutes away, closer to the lakes. She’s a para at a law office, does well for herself. We were college sweethearts, but it didn’t work out.” He shrugs and you nod. “She’s got a serious boyfriend and he has a daughter a year younger than Andy. I think he felt like his personal space was closing in on him, so he asked to live with me. I usually just get him for the summer when I’m not teaching, it’s been great having him around more.”
“He has your eyes.” You wanted smack your forehead for making such a weird comment.
“He does! One of the first things I noticed about him when they stopped being that weird, dark color babies have when they’re first born.” You simply nod your head. “Well, I’ve taken up a lot of your time…um…let’s plan a lunch or something sometime soon. I’d love to know how your classes are going. I know it can’t be easy teaching the intro courses.”
“I’m doing well with it, actually. I taught a lot of the first-year courses at my previous institution. I’ve just been more bogged down with my research than anything else.”
“I’d like to hear more about that too, if that’s alright. Didn’t get to hear about like everyone else since I was gone during your interviews.”
“Sure, we could do lunch sometime then.” Harry smiles at that.
“Great. You know, we get together to do a monthly game night with the faculty from the English department. It’s in a couple of weeks, I hope you’ll come. A lot of their classes double count within our major, so it would be good for you to meet them.”
“Yeah, just let me know when it is. I enjoyed the hike a couple weeks ago.”
“I was pissed I missed that.” Harry groans. “I had to take Andy-“
“Dad.” Andy comes back, handing Harry his change. He was biting into a BLT.
“Thank you, let’s go into my office, yeah? You’ve got some homework that needs to get done.”
“Fine.” He goes into Harry’s office with a huff.
“Anyways, I’ll let you know when the game night is.”
“Okay, thanks.” You smile at each other and go back to sit down in your office.
He had a kid, a ten-year-old…holy shit. You couldn’t imagine going through your master’s and doctoral program while also raising a child. Good for him, you think. Andy was a pretty cute kid, a mop of curls, just like his dad.
//
You gave yourself Saturdays off. Saturdays were for sleeping in, doing a quick pilates workout, grocery shopping, laundry and whatever other chores you may have. Saturdays were for curling up on the sofa with a cup of tea and good movie. Saturday nights were for you and Janette, who you have become pretty close with, to go have drinks.
“You need to find someone to bring home with you tonight.” Janette says, as you both begin your second drinks of the evening.
“Oh stop.” You laugh. “I don’t think I have the energy to pretend to be into someone enough to fuck them.” She rolls her eyes at you. “So…what’s this I hear about a game night with the English department?”
“Oh! It’s so much fun. Once a month someone different hosts it. Sometimes we play board games, sometimes it’s card games, one time we even played Heads Up, that was a hoot.” She giggles. “You should definitely come, Lisa’s hosting the next one. Her house is huge and has a beautiful view of the lakes and mountains.”
“I think I might, yeah.”
“Who told you about it? I think Lucas was planning to add you to the email about it.”
“Oh, Harry mentioned it the other day. He said it would be good for me to get to know the other faculty.”
“He’s certainly right about that.”
“I met his son…”
“Andy was in the office! Damn, I try to keep candy in my office for him. He’s so sweet. He was just a little guy when Harry started, can’t believe he’s in middle school.”
“Yeah, he was really polite. Sort of closed off at the same time.”
“Harry seems to think he’s become more self-aware. It’s a big deal for him to want to live with Harry year round.” She sips her drink. “Shouldn’t gossip too much about it though.”
“Right.” You sip your own drink.
“The students seem to like you so far, we’ve all heard good things from our advisees.”
“Really?! That means a lot.”
“Your teaching must speak for itself.”
“Students are always in the downstairs lounge, it’s nice to chat with them sometimes. They always seem to be visiting Harry. Andre and Sandra are down with us too, and they don’t have as many frequent flyers.”
“I know you’re new and all, but I didn’t think you were naïve.” She chuckles.
“What do you mean?”
“Harry perfectly fits the hot teacher trope, Y/N. He’s slightly mysterious with his tattoos and his nail polish, but still totally approachable. He’s dorky, but funny. He’s got a little muscle on him, but he’s not terribly intimidating, plus he’s fucking brilliant. You should sit in on his Literature and Film class.”
“One might think you have a crush on him from the way you speak about him.” You tease her.
“One would have to be straight, my dear.” She winks at you, and you laugh a little too loud. “However, I know an attractive man when I see one. Girls swoon over him all the time. It was really bad when he first started because he was a little closer in age with students, things have calmed down considerably though.”
“He dresses nicely too, I like his style.”
“It’s a little out there, but it works for him.”
“Sometimes I can smell the nail polish remover from my office.” You giggle. “He really hates when they’re chipped, huh?”
“God, you have no idea. Sometimes in the faculty meetings I’ll catch him chipping away at, next time I see him they’re freshly painted again.”
You take an uber home after having four drinks with your friend. You gossiped about some other people, Harry didn’t remain the topic of conversation for long. You get home and strip yourself of your clothes, and wash up before getting into your blanket burrito.
//
Sundays were for getting a head start on the week. Sometimes you worked from your office at home, but today you forgot something at your office at work, so you decide to just grab all your things and work from your office for the day. You were making some progress on your research and you wanted to keep riding the wave you were on.
You had a tie-dye t-shirt on under your coat that had a picture of Goofy on it, and a pair of jeans on. You didn’t need to be super dressed up for some weekend work. No one was usually in the building anyways. You get some up and put some music on while you do some reading and highlighting.
“Hey! Look who it is.”
“Jesus!” You flinch and look up. “Scared the shit out of me, Harry.”
“Sorry about that.” He rubs the back of his neck. “You’re a tad jumpy.”
“Hard not to be when you’re always coming out of nowhere.” You turn your music down and stand up to walk over to him, crossing your arms over your stupid shirt. “What are you doing here?”
“Well, Andy’s with his mum this weekend, and I needed a change of scenery from the home office, so I thought I’d come here.”
“Oh.”
He looks you up and down and smiles.
“Is Goofy your favorite?”
“Huh?”
“Your shirt.” He points to it. “Personally, I’m partial to Mickey Mouse, but Goofy’s fun.”
“This is a really old shirt, I did laundry yesterday so this is what I was left with.”
“Ah…and I suppose you weren’t expecting to bump into your colleague.”
“Correct.”
“Well, I think it’s proper cute, so no worries, I won’t make fun.” He winks and goes into his own office.
You feel your cheek and it’s considerably warmer than it was from before he got there. You shake your head and return to your seat, opting to put your headphones in to not disturb him. Just as you’re getting going in the zone again, he comes into your office and plops down on one of the reupholstered chairs you had on the other side of your desk.
“Yes?” You ask, taking your headphones out.
“I want you to come observe my wellness class this week.”
“Why?”
“Because I think you could use some time to distress. You don’t teach any 8AM’s, right?”
“No…um…what makes you think I need to distress?”
“You just look like you’re carrying a lot of tension. It’s a great class. We chat, we meditate. Sometimes students fall asleep, but I’ve told them it’s okay. If their bodies are telling them they need sleep, then they should sleep. We do a bit of yoga as well. Plus, I just think it would be good for you to observe me.”
“I was told your literature class would be fun to observe, couldn’t I do that instead?”
“And let you get out of a bit of meditation?” He scoffs. “I don’t think so, sister.” You laugh at that.
“Alright, which day should I come?”
“It’s my Tuesday/Thursday course. You can pick which morning you’d prefer.”
“Anything else?”
“Tell me about your research.”
“Are you just using me to procrastinate?” You raise an eyebrow at him.
“Hey, what happens between me and the stack of papers I need to grade is none of your business.” You laugh at him again. Harry was funny, no doubt about that. “Come on, just a few minutes, tell me what you’re working on.”
“I am researching anonymity online, the pros and cons, how social media is mixed into it, stuff like that. People carry themselves different on the various social media platforms, trying to show specific versions of themselves, but when you’re able to remain anonymous, you somehow are truly able to be yourself without fear of judgement.”
“So, what are the cons then?”
“Oh, there are tons. There’s the fear of someone finding this anonymous version of yourself and being exposed. Then there are the people that forget there’s someone else behind the screen and send nasty messages to other anonymously.”
“That’s my biggest fear with Andy. He’s been begging me for a smart phone, but I just don’t feel comfortable with that yet.” He runs a hand through his hair. “I told him when he was thirteen we could talk about it.”
“It’s funny, I didn’t get my first phone until I was fifteen, and it was one of those ones that slid open and had a keyboard. Literally had to use the family desktop if I wanted to go on Facebook.”
“Do people even use Facebook anymore? Feel like it’s just forty-year-old wine moms and Home Depot dads.” Harry snorts.
“No one uses it anymore because it’s not fun. It may as well be LinkedIn.” You scoff.
“Well, I’ll certainly be looking forward to reading what you whip up when the time comes.” He smiles.
“Thanks.”
“I’ll let you get back to it…um, feel like grabbing a bite later?”
“If you don’t disturb me for the next two hours I’ll consider getting lunch with you.”
“Oh, I love a challenge.” He grins and stands up, leaving your office.
You smile and shake your head. Perhaps your neighbor was becoming a pretty good friend.
//
“You’re coming to Lisa’s tonight, right?” Harry asks you as he slings his bag over his shoulder on Friday afternoon.
“I believe so, six, right?”
“Yup! Do you need directions?”
“I have this thing called a smart phone, and get this…it has an app where if I put in an address, it shows me the route!”
“I really hate it when you’re sarcastic with me.” He rolls his eyes. “Get it enough from my son, you know?”
“Will he be joining the fun as well?”
“Nope, he’s with his mum this weekend. I gotta go get him from school and get him all packed up for her.”
“Does she always pick him up?”
“She picks him up on Fridays, and I pick him up on Sundays.” He shrugs. “It just works for us.”
“Makes sense.”
“Right, well, I’ll see you later.”
“Okay.” You smile and wave him off.
After knuckling at your eyes, you head home around 4PM. You wanted to shower and freshen up before heading to Lisa’s. It was a beautiful, chilly Fall evening, so you opt for a light sweater and black jeans, and a pair of boots. You run your fingers through your hair, reapply some makeup, and grab the bottle of white you had chilling in your fridge. You plug the address into your phone, and get going.
It was about a twenty-five minute drive. Lisa lived in a neighborhood with a lot of beautiful homes. Her driveway was long and winding, and on top of a hill.
“This must be a bitch in the winter.” You say to yourself. Maybe that was why she was hosting the September game night. There were a couple of other cars there, so you didn’t feel totally awkward. You walk up to the door and ring the bell.
“Y/N!” Lisa exclaims and hugs you. “Come on in, so glad you could make it.”
“Thank you for having me. I brought some wine.” You hand the bottle to her as you step inside.
“Oh, thank you, dear.”
“Shoes on or off?”
“On is perfectly fine, it’s all hardwood.” Lisa leads you inside. “I’ll get this open.”
You wait for her to pour you a glass, and then she leads you into the living room. Sandra and Mateo were already there. You wave hello and grab a seat.
“Y/N, this is Dan, the English department chair, Alice, Joe, and Fred.”
“Hi, it’s nice to formally meet you all.” You stand up and shake a few hands.
Everyone mingles and eats the snacks Lisa puts out. Her husband was quite the co-host. Janette shows up next, and you end up sitting with her. Harry’s the last to arrive. Lisa gets him a glass of red right away. He looked handsome. A tan cardigan over a white t-shirt and a pair of light wash jeans.
“Sorry I’m late everyone, Paige was over an hour late picking Andy up. There was an accident on the highway and she got stuck behind it, it was a whole thing.”
Paige, it was the first time Y/N heard Harry actually say the name of Andy’s mother.
“No worries, H.” Andre says. “Relax, we haven’t even decided on the game yet.”
“Thank god.” Harry plops down next to you on the couch. “Janette, did Y/N tell you she observed my wellness class yesterday?”
“She did, she told me she fell asleep the second you turned the lights off.” She snickers.
“Please, keep talking about me like I’m not even here.” You roll your eyes. Harry and Janette both lean over you so they can pretend to speak closer. “Okay, okay.” You push them both away. “That’s enough, thank you.”
“Alright, everyone, I was thinking we could play charades, yeah?” Lisa announces. “It’ll keep us limber.”
“English vs. CM?” Dan asks.
“You know it.” Lisa grins.
You were pretty good at charades so you weren’t worried. The couple of glasses of wine certainly helped boost your confidence. It was fun to let a little loose with your colleagues. It was some much needed bonding. Harry was quite competitive, which surprised you because he was usually so chill about everything. It was down to the final points, Harry needed to guess the name of your film correctly.
You put up two fingers.
“Second word.” You nod and he licks his lips in concentration You pretend to open a book and write it in it. “Uhhh, book…” He furrows his brows. You look up like as if you’re reading something, and then you pretend to write the book some more. “Notes…notebook, oh! The Notebook!” You tap your finger on your nose and your team cheers. “Ha!” Harry stands up and hugs you. He lets you go and looks back at everyone. “That was exhilarating. Better luck next time.” He says to the English team.
“Wasn’t exactly a difficult film to guess.” Alice says playfully.
“I had zero control over the slip of paper I chose out of that hat.” You grin.
You all help clean up before heading out. You slip your coat on and head outside after saying your goodbyes.
“Y/N?” You hear Harry from behind you. “You’re good to drive, right?”
“Yeah, of course. Wouldn’t get behind the wheel if I wasn’t.”
“Alright.” He smiles. “Just wanted to be sure.” He walks with you outside.
“It would be pretty bad if I got so fucked up I couldn’t drive home from our department chair’s house.”
“Lisa would actually get a pretty good kick out of it.” He smirks. You get to your car and press the button to unlock it. “Well…I hope you enjoy the rest of your weekend.”
“Same to you, any big plans while Andy’s gone?”
“Not really, I try to save the fun stuff for while he’s with me.”
“Aw, no hot dates.” You wink at him. Okay, maybe some of the wine was still in your system. He blinks at you for a moment and then he bursts out laughing.
“Right, the ladies are really fighting to knock my door down.” He wipes a tear from under his eye. “Can’t remember the last time I went on a proper date to be honest with you. Not exactly a turn on when you bring someone home and they see kid’s toys hanging around.”
“Oh come on, you’ve totally got the hot single dad thing working for you.” You nudge his shoulder. “Janette I usually go out on Saturday nights for drinks, you should come out tomorrow.”
“Um…which, uh, which bar do you go to?”
“Firefly, little more adult. We don’t really see the college kids there.”
“Sure, yeah, I know that place well. Um, what time?”
“Nine?”
“I’ll be there.” He smiles.
“Great! Goodnight, Harry.”
“Night, Y/N.”
He watches as you get into your car and drive away. It wasn’t until you woke up the next morning that you realize that you essentially asked him out, and that you sort of flirted with him. You text Janette immediately and let her know he may show up.
Jan: Yay! Harry’s so much fun to go drinking with, this’ll be great!
Will it? You think to yourself. It was one thing to have a couple of glasses of wine with colleagues, but you usually got pretty drunk with Janette, always taking an uber to and from the bar. You were a nervous wreck all day, and you weren’t sure why. You were hoping all of your Saturday chores would distract you, but they weren’t.
As you get ready, you decide on a blue dress that showed a tasteful amount of cleavage, pairing it with patterned nylons, and boots. Your hair is down and wavy, and your makeup looks cute, for now. You put on your leather jacket and head out. Well, not before doing a quick shot at home. Your leg bounces the entire time in the uber. Janette is already there at your usual table. She waves you over and you sit down.
“I texted Harry earlier.” She says to you. “Just so he really knew he was invited.”
“I don’t have his number, otherwise I would have. Sorry, I feel like I should have asked first. This is sort of like our girl’s night.”
“Are you kidding?! Like I said earlier, Harry is super fun to drink with.”
After you both guzzle down your first drink, Harry arrives. He’s got a black button up on with the first few buttons undone, exposing the birds on his collar bones. He smiles when he sees the both of you.
“H!” Janette says, getting up to hug him and give him a kiss on the cheek.
“Hello, love.” He gives her a squeeze and a returned kiss. He looks at you and you give him a shy smile before giving him a side hug. “Thanks again for the invite, haven’t been to this place in a while.” He slides into the stool.
“Oh, of course!” Janette says. “I was excited when Y/N said you were coming.”
“Apparently I need to do more fun things when Andy’s with his mum.” He nudges you.
“What do you usually do when he’s gone?” You ask him.
“I usually clean up the house, stalk up on food, wash his sheets…dad stuff.” He shrugs with a laugh. The waitress comes over and smiles.
“Can I get you started with anything?”
“Rum and coke would be great, and I’ll start a tab.” He hands her his credit card and she nods.
“Nother round for you two?”
“Please!” Janette says.
“Yes.” You say with a smile.
The waitress nods and smiles. She walks away and looks back at Harry, blushing.
“Oh boy.” Janette grins. “I think you may get lucky tonight, H.”
“What makes you say that?”
“Our waitress did a double take.”
“She’s probably, like, ten years younger than I am or something. Not my style.”
“Fair enough.” She shrugs.
“What about you? Any ladies you’re trying to take home?”
“Well, if I weren’t in a long distance relationship, sure.”
“You and Sadie are still together?” He asks almost in shock.
“Of course we are! You would have known if we broke up.”
“Doesn’t it get difficult?” He frowns.
“I really don’t mind. When we’re able to be together it’s nice, but I like having my own space.” Janette turns to you. “Sadie is a photographer, traveling for National Geographic.”
“That’s incredible!”
The waitress brings all of the dinks over and you clink your glasses.
“Alright, what’s the gossip, ladies? Who are we shitting on?”
“Hmm.” Jaette taps her chin. “Perhaps Dan? He’s obviously still in love with Lisa.”
“Still?” Your jaw drops.
“Back in the day,” Harry starts, “he and Lisa were quite the item. She met Arnold at a conference. He’s a chef.”
“Ah, that’s why the food is so good.”
“Mhm, he’s retired now, but at the time she had to make this big choice between the two of them, and she chose Arnold. Built an entire life with him. Dogs, kids, big house, you name it.” Harry explains.
“And Dan’s been married and divorced twice. Lisa’s the one that got away.” Janette sighs. “Course, Lisa’s incredibly oblivious, or she pretends to be. You’d think they were simply best friends.”
“I wonder what made her choose Arnold over Dan.” You say.
“Good dick.” Janette says. “Simple as that.”
“Oh, come on.” You roll your eyes.
“You come on! Are you going to tell me you’d give up good dick?”
“So you’re telling me she was seeing both of them at the same time, and she chose Arnold because he hit it better?”
“That’s what I’m inferring, yes.” She sips her drink. “Getting to come every time you fuck is worth it, don’t you think?”
Harry nearly chokes on his drink from laughing.
“I forgot how nasty you can be, I love it.” He says and looks at you. “So, Y/N, what’s your answer? Is an orgasm reason enough to choose one guy over another?”
“Well, considering that I dated some real fuck when I was in college just so I could get some good dick, I’d have to say yes.” You say, enjoying the look on both of their faces. “I mean, it’s hard to remember how much you can’t stand someone when they’re railing you to completion.”
“Very true.” Janette agrees. “Also, Arnold is a really sweet man, sort of the whole package for her. I don’t think Lisa liked be challenged, and Dan, I heard, would challenge her on everything.”
“I’m usually up for a debate, but I get that. I don’t need to be in control of everything, but agreeable people are better.” You say.
“I wouldn’t say it’s because he’s agreeable.” Harry says, finishing his drink, and gesturing towards the waitress for another. “Arnold is smitten, not just in love, big difference.”
“How so?” You ask.
“When you’re…oh, thank you.” He smiles at the waitress brings him a new drink. “When you’re smitten, you walk around with rose colored glasses, to some that can be a bad thing, but I think when you’re that in love, you should really adore the person you’re with too. Arnold adores Lisa, Dan doesn’t. You can tell by the way they both look at her.”
It was nice discussing things like this with people who also observed people the way you did. It makes you wonder, though, what they may have picked up on about you.
After a few more drinks, you knew you needed to stop when your vision began to get hazy. Harry only had his two drinks since he drove himself. He drank some water as the night went on.
“H, Y/N lives not too far from you, help her save a couple bucks and drive her home, would you?”
“Jan…” You scold her.
“She’s right, I could give you a lift, if you want?”
“Um…well…sure.”
You both say goodnight to Janette, and Harry helps you into his car. He keeps the music low as he pulls out of the bar.
“So, where am I taking you?”
“To The Ledges, do you know where that is?”
“Sure do.” He chuckles. “Lived there myself when I first moved to the area.”
“Really?! It’s a great size place. I love it.”
“Got any pets or anything?”
“Nope, just me, myself, and I.” You grin.
“And you prefer it that way?”
“Well, after living at home my whole life, and then having various roommates over the years, I’d say that I’m quite enjoying living alone.”
“Good for you. I’m glad you’re liking it here so much. The person you replaced was such a twat.” You burst into laughter. “I’m serious! He never came to any of the outings. It was like he didn’t even care that we were trying to get him to engage. The second he got his PhD he left. Good riddance.” Harry scoffs.
“I really like it. It’s a lot different than being at a college in the city. I wasn’t sure how I’d do working in a college town, but I’m really enjoying it. I feel safe, you know? I didn’t always feel safe in the city.”
“I’m sorry, that had to have been difficult.”
“On the late nights it was. I usually had UPD walk me to my car. I don’t really have to do that here. I feel like I gained a lot of independence back.”
Harry pulls up to the apartment building, and parks. He turns the ignition off and you raise your eyebrows at him.
“What are you doing?”
“I was going to walk you to the door…”
“Oh…you don’t have to.”
“I insist.”
“Really, it’s okay. Um, thank you for the ride, it was really nice of you.”
“Thanks for the invite, I had fun.” He smiles.
“Me too.” You smile back and get out of the car.
You hear the car turn back on, and you know he waits to drive off until you’re inside.
//
“Paige, I get him for Christmas, why are you trying to change things?”
“You usually get him for Christmas because you don’t usually get him for the school year.” She crosses her arms as she stands outside in the frigid early December air.
“But you just got him for Thanksgiving.”
“You don’t celebrate Thanksgiving!”
“I observe!” He takes a deep breath. “His plane ticket is already paid for, he’s coming with me to London like always, and he will be back to you for New Year’s, like always.” He steps closer to her. “He looks forward to seeing my mum and Gem every winter, please don’t take that away from him.”
“It’s just…we’re hosting a Hanukkah party, and Noah really wanted him to be a part of it…”
“Shit.” Harry rubs the back of his neck. “There’s Jewish holidays all the time, couldn’t Andy be a part of the next celebration?”
“Dad! Come on, the Pats game is starting!”
“One second, just saying bye to mum!” He yells to Andy, and looks back at Paige, eyes pleading.
“Alright…he can still go with you.”
“Thank you.” Harry breathes. “His cousins would miss him terribly.”
“I know, I’d feel terrible doing that to him. I’m just trying to balance all of this. I wanna be a good partner to Noah, and somewhat of a mother figure to Rachel, but I don’t want Andy to feel like I’m favoring them over him. He comes first, he always will.”
“I’m sure he knows that.” He puts his hand on her shoulder. “Have a latke for me, yeah?”
“Yeah.” She smiles and gives his hand a squeeze before getting back into her car.
Harry heads inside and sits on the couch while Andy sits in his usual spot on the love seat, entranced by the football game.
“What was that all about? I heard shouting.”
“Could barely hear each other over the wind outside. Nothing to worry about. We were just confirming plans for your holiday break.”
“I’m still going to London, right?”
“Of course! No question about it.”
Andy smiles at Harry before returning his attention to the TV. Harry was usually very honest with Andy, but he didn’t need to worry him with any of the drama.
//
“You survived your first semester, congrats!” Janette says, popping a bottle of champagne as she walks into your office.
“Not over yet, I have finals to grade.”
“Whatever, the kids are gone, that’s something to celebrate.” She nods towards the plastic cups you keep in your office, and you grab two. “Any plans for the holidays? Going home at all?”
“Oh sure. Doing the Hanukkah thing with my folks, and then doing New Year’s in Boston with some friends.”
“Fun!”
“Wait.” Harry says, overhearing, grabbing the bottle for a swig. “You’re Jewish?”
“Yes?” You raise an eyebrow at him and take a sip from your cup.
“Brilliant. Paige’s boyfriend is Jewish, and I think it’s confusing for Andy. He doesn’t much like asking th guy questions, maybe he could talk to you sometime.”
“Sure.” You shrug. “Any plans for the holidays?”
“Yeah, Andy comes home to London for Christmas, and then I send him back for New Year’s with his mum.”
“You send him on the plane alone?”
“I haven’t always, but they let me walk him right to the gate, and he flies first class, so it’s very safe. They let his mum wait at the other gate too. I like to stay home for a few weeks if I can. I’m afraid I’m a bit of a mama’s boy.” He takes another swig of the bottle. “I am not looking forward to grading these papers. I really should just have each class do a presentation, can grade those right on the spot.”
“Tell me about it.” Janette groans. “My Advanced Comp class is going to be the death of me.”
“Well, clearly this champagne is going to keep us all awake enough to get through it.”
The three of you stand there laughing. You were looking forward to the long winter break. It would give you plenty of time to work on your research, and you wouldn’t be disturbed by any students popping in and out of your office, as much as you enjoyed the chats.
//
It was the beginning of January, there you were, working away in your office. You had a long flowy dress on, for some reason, and your door bursts open.
“Y/N! I’ve traveled across the pond for you!”
“Harry! You’re back.”
“That’s right, darling, I’m back.” He pushes everything off your desk, walks around to your and pulls you close to him. He crashes his mouth to yours.
“Oh, Harry.” You moan.
“Oh, Y/N.” He moans back before laying you on your desk. “I’m going to make you feel so good.” He rips your dress of and kneels in front of you, diving his head between your legs.
You wake up in a cold sweat, panting. Your eyes snap open and you grimace. Your legs feel sweaty, so you kick your blankets off.
“What the fuck?” You say to yourself as you sit up. Harry was attractive, but you never once fantasized about him. You reach between your legs and gasp. “Did I just fucking have a wet dream?!” You lick at your sticky fingers and shake your head in disbelief. “Shower, go shower Y/N.” You were talking to yourself, yes, but it was needed to help you calm down.
You were incredibly embarrassed. Harry was your friend, not someone you wanted to fuck, and certainly not on your desk in your office at work. Most people would be turned off, but doing it in a professional place was a big turn off for you. The idea of getting caught was also not a turn on for you. If you were ever caught you could be fired, and it just wasn’t worth it. Neither was dating a colleague. It wasn’t against the rules or anything, nor was it frowned upon, but dating in the workplace could lead to a lot of problems. You had a PhD on the line. Maybe it was time to just suck it up and go for a one night stand.
//
You had forgotten all about your dream by the time the January faculty meeting hit. That is, until Harry was the last to walk in. Your face flushes immediately. His hair was a little longer, and he had a bit of scruff that he normally wouldn’t have. He smiles and says hello to a couple of people, and then sits down right next to you.
“Hi.” He whispers with a smile.
“Hello.” You swallow and don’t look at him.
“How was your-“
“Can we get started?” Lisa addresses the group. “Much to go over, we need to start talking about the fall schedule.”
You were grateful for the distraction of the discussion, but you felt Harry’s eyes burn into you every few moments. He had to have known you were acting weird, you wouldn’t fucking look at him. Even if you thought to try, you just couldn’t. Two hours later, and the meeting finally ends. You gather your things quickly and head out, and down to your office. Just as you’re able to take a deep breath, you look up and see Harry standing in your doorway, hands in his pockets, squinting at you.
“Are we good?” He asks.
“Um.” You focus on the space behind him. “Yes, why wouldn’t we be?”
“Because you refuse to look at me. Even now, you’re not really looking at me.” He shifts his weight so he’s stand up normally. “Are you mad because I didn’t reach out over break?”
“What? No! I could care less about that, it wasn’t like I reached out to you.”
“So…what is it then? You make eye contact all the time, it’s not like you to not.”
“I…” You suck both of your lips into your mouth. “It’s nothing, it’s stupid, I’m being stupid.”
“If it’s stupid then just tell me.” He comes in and sits down on your loveseat.
“Harry, please.” You shake your head and sit down in your desk chair.
“Come on, Y/N. Clearly something’s bothering you.”
“Ugh.” You groan and get up to close your door. You sit on the edge of your desk. “I…had a rather odd dream a week or so ago…”
“Okay?”
“And you were in it.” You whisper.
“What was I doing in your dream?” He whispers back.
“That’s just it, I don’t know.” You rest your chin in your palm as you cross your arms over your chest.
“Well I must have done something to make you not even look at me. Did I hurt you, do something scary?”
“No…I suppose I wouldn’t call it scary, but I was certainly disturbed when I woke up.”
“What then?” A smirk grows on his face. “Don’t tell me you had a sex dream or something.” When your face stays the way it is his smile fades. “You had a sex dream about me?” You nod yes. “Where were we?”
“Here.”
“In your office?!”
“Shh!” You swat your hands in his direction. “Do you want the building to hear?”
“You had a dream that we fucked in your office?”
“Well, it wasn’t fucking per say…you sort of…I don’t know…it doesn’t matter.”
“No tell me, let’s talk this through.”
“You wiped everything off my desk, ripped my clothes off, sat me on top, and then…” You wince slightly. “You sort of…got your head between my legs, and then I woke up.” You say the rest of it quickly. “And I was utterly concerned when I woke up because I swear I don’t see you that way, Harry. You’re my friend, just my friend. I forgot all about it, and then I saw you and got all embarrassed again.”
He stands up from his seat and gives you a shy smile.
“It was just a dream, you don’t need to be embarrassed. We’re adults, yeah? Let’s act like it.”
“I just don’t want you thinking I’m some…sex maniac or something.”
“I don’t.”
“Okay…I’m sorry if I worried you during the meeting. It really is good to see you, I’m glad you’re back. We could have lunch soon, I’d love to hear about London.”
“Yeah, maybe.” He smiles, but you can tell it’s fake.
He heads out and goes into his own office, closing the door behind him. For whatever reason, your words hurt him. Just my friend rang through his mind. It wasn’t as though it were a lie, you were just friends, but you made it clear you didn’t want him to be the one between your legs in a dream. At first he was flattered, but now…well, now he just felt sad. Was he not good enough to be the one to get you off? Even if in a dream? He hears a knock on the door.
“Yes?”
You open it slowly.
“I hurt your feelings…”
“A little.” He admits. “Not sure why, though.”
“I just didn’t want you to think I was objectifying you.”
“It was a dream, Y/N, you have zero control over it.”
“But I must have been thinking of you subconsciously, right? Isn’t that how that works?”
“Okay, so maybe you were thinking of me and maybe that got mixed in with…whatever else.”
“I just don’t want you thinking I want to fuck you, that’s all.”
“That doesn’t make me feel better.” He mumbles.
“You want me to want to fuck you?!”
“Now who’d being loud?!”
“Sorry…”
“It’s just, well, how would you feel if I told you I didn’t want to fuck you, you probably wouldn’t feel too great about yourself.”
“It’s not that you’re not attractive, Harry-“
“This is making it worse.” He runs his hands over his face and looks at you. “It was just a dream, nothing to worry about, okay?”
“Things won’t be weird between us?”
“No.”
“You promise?”
“I promise.”
“I’m really sorry. I shouldn’t have acted the way I did in that meeting, then we wouldn’t have needed to talk about it.”
“Did you tell Janette?”
“I resent that, just because I’m close with her doesn’t mean she knows every bit of my business.”
“I just didn’t know if I should be expecting some teasing from her.”
“No, none, and you better not tease me either.”
“I won’t.” He smiles. “London was good by the way…”
“Good, I’m glad.” You smile at him. “Talk later?”
“Yeah.”
//
“Not that I’m not happy to be out with the two of you, but why are the three of us out to dinner?” Andy asks.
“Mum and I thought it would be nice to see what you wanted to do for your February vacation. Usually you come see me and we go skiing, but mum knows how to ski too-“
“You’re canceling our trip?!”
“No! We were just thinking mum could take you this year.”
“But it’s your cabin.”
“And I don’t mind sharing.”
“Andy…I thought it would be nice for the four of us to go together. Noah knows how to snowboard, and Rachel wants to take a skiing lesson.”
“Great, so now this going to be a huge family trip? I don’t wanna do that, Mum.” Andy groans.
“Andy.” Harry sighs. “I think Mum and I have been very accommodating to you this year. Could you please just try to help us out a little? Do you know how many kids would kill to have their parents take them on a ski trip for their breaks?”
“I’m not trying to be ungrateful, I’m sorry.” He looks down at his plate and then back up to Harry. “Can’t you still come? The house is big enough.”
“It’s not a bad idea, Har.” Paige says to him and his eyes widen.
“Would Noah and Rachel feel comfortable with that? I wouldn’t want to overstep…”
“I’ll talk to them, I can’t see either of them feeling weird about it. She refers to you as Uncle Harry as it is, and it’s your cabin, I don’t think Noah would care.”
“Would you be alright with it?”
“Sure.” She shrugs. “There’s that spare room on the other end of the house, so you could have your own space and the kids could stay in the bunk room.”
“Wait, so this is happening?” Andy perks up. “You’d really come, Dad?”
“Yeah, if it’s not weird for anyone, I’m in.”
Andy gets up from the table and moves to hug both Harry and Paige, both of them looking at each other surprised. They give each other mental high fives for being able to figure things out.
“I’m really excited now.” Andy says as he sits back down.
“Okay, now that we’ve got that out of the way…” Paige grins and looks back at one of the waitresses, giving her a nod. Happy birthday starts being sung throughout the restaurant.
“Oh my god.” Harry closes his eyes and groans. “This dinner wasn’t about me…”
“Nonsense.” She chuckles. “How often do we all get to celebrate together?”
A small cake with candles is brought over in front of Harry. The singing continues and he feels thoroughly embarrassed.
“Wanna help me blow ‘em out?” He asks Andy.
“Yeah!” He leans over and blows out the candles and the restaurant claps.
Harry looks at Paige and shakes his head. She laughs and thanks the waitresses.
“Andy, go get in Dad’s lap, I’ll take your picture together. I’ve got your gift for him in the car too, I’ll go get it.” Andy crawls into Harry’s lap, and Paige uses Harry’s phone to snap the photo. She beams when she looks at it. “You should get this one printed, it’s adorable.” She gets up and leaves to go get the gifts.
“Did you know about all this?” He says to Andy giving him a squeeze before letting him go.
“She just told me we were meeting you for dinner instead of going straight to your place.” He shrugs.
Paige returns shortly with a few cards and bags.
“Alright, this is from Rachel and Noah.”
“They didn’t have to get me anything…”
“They insisted!”
Harry takes the card out and smiles. Rachel had clearly drawn him a picture, it was cute. His smile grows wider when he takes a nail kit out of the small bag.
“I was due for one of these, I’ll have to text Noah a thank you.” Harry opens the next bag and sees a card from Andy that he also drew. In the bag was a new set of pocket squares for his suits, that he desperately needed, some bandanas, scrunchies, and a gift card to his favorite clothing store. “Went all out son, thank you.”
“Thought your…what was the word you used, Mum?”
“Wardrobe.” She chuckles.
“Yeah! Thought your wardrobe could use an update.”
“Should I be offended?” He says, raising an eyebrow.
“I think you should be happy your son has your keen eye for fashion.” She slides another card over. “That one’s from me.”
“You’ve done enough.” He says before leaning over to kiss the top of Andy’s head.
“Just open it.”
Harry rolls his eyes and opens the card. He starts laughing. There was some joke about being close co-parents, and a gift card to one of his favorite restaurants.
“Thank you.”
“More than welcome.”
Andy hugs Paige goodbye in the parking lot before hopping in the backseat of Harry’s car.
“Were you surprised, Dad?”
“Very! Thank you again for the gifts, it was very thoughtful of you.”
“I’m more excited about going skiing now.”
“Sorry if we scared you. I just wanna make sure Mum gets to see you.”
“I know.” He sighs. “Hey, Dad?”
“Yeah?”
“How come Mum has Noah, but you don’t have anyone?”
“I have you.”
“You know what I mean.”
“I just…I don’t know, I don’t have much time for dating.”
“What do you do on the weekends when I’m not with you?”
“Sometimes I see friends, or I catch up on some grading, I clean up too. You’re gonna start doing more chores, that would be the ultimate birthday gift.”
“It’s okay if you wanna date, you know…”
“I don’t exactly need your permission.” He chuckles.
“I know…but I want you to know I’m okay with it.”
“Well, I appreciate that, thanks.”
//
When Harry walks into his office Monday morning he’s surprised to see a vase full of flowers. There’s a small card with it:
Happy Birthday, H!
- Y/N
Harry smiles to himself and smells the flowers, he couldn’t believe you remembered. He only mentioned it once when his birthday was. Thirty-two was off to a great start. He hangs his jacket up and gets his computer set up. His first class wasn’t until 9AM, so he had some time to prep and wake up a bit more before heading to the lecture hall. He sees you walk by on your way to your office.
“Oh! You’re here!” You had two coffees in your hands. “My gift wasn’t complete yet.” You walk in and hand him his coffee. “Black coffee.” You smile.
“Thank you, the flowers are lovely.”
“Not that I thought you needed more plants in here.” You joke. Harry had a fuck ton of plants in his office windowsill.
“Well excuse me for enjoying nature.” He scoffs, and takes a sip of his coffee. You sit down on the couch in his office.
“Did you have a good weekend?”
“I did, Paige and I took Andy out to dinner to talk about his February break, and it turned into a little surprise birthday thing, it was nice. Can’t remember the last time we did something like that as a family. I mean, we have shared birthday parties for him and stuff, but I think he enjoys when it’s just the three of us.”
“If you don’t mind me asking…did he ever know the two of you as a couple?”
“No.” Harry sighs. “I think he was almost two when she and I called it quits. Now look at us, we’re all going on a ski trip together, including her boyfriend and his daughter.”
“That won’t be weird?”
“Not really, I’ve known Noah a while.”
“How long have they been together?”
“Well, they’ve been a couple for almost three years, but they were friends beforehand. He’s one of the lawyers at the office she works at. He came on, like, a year after she and I split, they were friends for a while, and I think once he knew she and I weren’t getting back together he made his move.” Harry shrugs. “No skin off my nose, I just wanted her to be happy. His daughter Rachel is as cute as a button too.” He takes another sip of his coffee. “Poor thing, her mum died in a car accident when she was really little. Paige is a great mum, so it was a good fit for everyone I think. The only thing I don’t love is that Noah is, like, almost forty.”
“How old is Paige?”
“Almost thirty-four, so it’s not super weird, but…I think that’s another reason why he waited to ask her out, you know?”
“I’m surprised he doesn’t have his own cabin to take her too.”
“Nope, just a massive house on the lake.” Harry chuckles and looks at his flowers again. “Thank you again for these, it was a nice surprise.”
“Oh, don’t mention it.” She sips her own coffee and gets up to go to her own office.
“How’d you know I’d like these?”
“Everyone likes getting flowers, Harry.” She smiles and leaves.
//
Harry had cancelled his classes during the week of Andy’s February break like he always did. He had forum posts for them to work in in his absence. Going to the cabin wasn’t ask awkward as he thought, and it was good bonding for Rachel and Andy. Harry, Noah, and Paige could hear the two of them giggling as they watched movies at night, it was sweet. Harry mostly stuck with skiing with Andy during the day, and he and Paige took him for a run or two as well. As Andy got older co-parenting got easier, for whatever reason. Any lingering feelings between Harry and Paige had simply fizzled into a normal friendship. There was no malice between them which was good for Andy to see.
“Uncle Harry?” Rachel asks one night at dinner.
“Yes, love?”
“How come you have an accent, but Andy doesn’t?”
“Because Andy wasn’t born and raised in a country where people sound like me. Although sometimes you sound like me when you’ve been around me a lot.” Harry looks at Andy.
“My friends tease me for how I say pasta sometimes.” He chuckles. “I say that like you.”
“It’s true! You say taco like Dad too. It’s pretty funny.”
“Well, those are my two favorite foods so it makes sense.”
“How come you have so many tattoos?” Rachel asks.
“Honey, tattoos can be really personal.” Noah explains.
“It’s alright, I got a lot of them when I was younger. Think my last one was when Andy was born, got his initials my forearm.” He extends his arm out.
“Harry.” Paige clears her throat, nodding towards his mermaid tattoo and shakes her head no.
“Oop! Sorry.” He blushes. “Sometimes I forget she’s there.” He chuckles.
“Can we paint nails after dinner, Uncle Harry?” Rachel pleads.
“Sure! Brought that nail kit you and Dad so nicely got for me.”
“Yay! It’s okay, right, Daddy?”
“Of course, princess.” Noah says lovingly towards his daughter.
After dinner, Harry sits with Rachel at the kitchen table, to not make a mess, while Paige, Noah, and Andy sit in the living room watching TV. On the outside looking in the scene may be odd, but this was working well for all of them. Andy was having a good time and that was all Harry cared about.
//
It was a Thursday night, you both swiped right, and you met him at a bar. After a few drinks you climbed into the backseat of his car and before you knew it you were bouncing up and down on his dick while he pressed hot kisses to your neck. His name was Gabriel, and he was just what you needed right now. Or he would have been if he had been able to last a moment longer. You were so close, and he came into the condom before you had a chance to have your own release. He didn’t even ask if you got yours, he just kissed your cheek and lifted you off him.
“Care to take this back to my place?” He says.
“Think I’ve had enough for one night, thanks.” You say as you button your pants back up.
“Let me at least drive you home.”
“No, that’s okay, I can take an uber.” You get out of his car and slam the door shut. He gets out and looks at you, you turn around and look at him.
“Another time?”
“No, I don’t think so.” You say bluntly and his face falls.
“Thought we just had a nice time.”
“You had a nice time because you got to finish.” You huff as you fix your jacket. You take your phone out and order your ride.
“Thought you did, my bad.”
“Right.” The car pulls up, and you get in.
This is why you hated doing things like this. Men on these dating apps just wanted to get theirs. They just wanted a place to stick it and they didn’t care if you were left satisfied or not. You take a nice, long shower when you get back, scrubbing the smell of Gabriel away from you. You grimace when you see the kiss mark he left on your collar bone. Luckily a shirt and scarf would cover it, and it didn’t look like it would last longer than a couple of days anyways.
//
“Well, were you being vocal about what you needed?” Janette asks you as she sits on the edge of your desk Monday morning.
“I said things like right there or like that…he didn’t even warn me that he was coming, he just did. Then he wanted me to come back to his place with him…”
“Maybe he would have put on a better show for you.”
“The previews certainly didn’t leave me wanting to see more.”
“Preview for what.” Harry says, peeping his head in. He had a slight tan from skiing, and it was sort of cute.
“Y/N saw a really bad preview for this movie about this loser, that’s all.” Janette says. “How was your week away?”
“Actually, not too bad. I think it was good for us to all do something together. Andy had a great time, that’s all I cared about. He even agreed to be with his mum for the entire April vacation.”
“Oh? What’s she going to take him to do?” You ask.
“They’re gonna go to New York to see some shows, I thought it was a great idea. It’ll be good for him to get some real culture.”
“And that’s not a trip you wanted to join in on?” Janette smirks.
“Hmm, large cabin where I have my own space or cramped hotel room?” He weighs his option. “I’ll take the bitter cold and the cabin, thanks.”
“What do you think you’ll do while he’s away?” You ask.
“No idea, I’ve got time to figure it out. Honestly, it’s perfect timing because that’s right during advising weeks so I’ll actually be able to help my students without him sitting in the corner complaining that he’s bored.” He rolls his eyes. “I don’t what’s gonna turn my hair grey first, him or the college students.”
“Oh please.” Janette groans. “Men look so much better with a little grey, makes you look distinguished, it’s us who look like old crones when we let our greys out. I don’t wanna hear it.” She shakes her head and looks at her watch. “Gotta get ready for my next class, so you later.”
“Is it true?”
“What?”
“Do men look better with a little grey.” He runs a hand through his hair.
“Depends on the guy, I think. I mean, I’m twenty-six so a little grey wouldn’t scare me away, but I’m not exactly looking for a silver fox.” You laugh and so does he.
“I missed your sense of humor last week. As good of a time it was, I felt like I had to be very careful about the jokes I cracked.”
“Well, no need for a filter here.”
Harry nods and goes into his own office. He thinks for a moment and then peeps his head back into yours.
“So, what movie preview did you see that you didn’t like?”
“What?”
“When I first came in, you and Jan were talking about-“
“Oh! Um, it was so bad I don’t even remember the name.” You tug slightly at your scarf out of nerves.
“Too bad, I could’ve searched it and had a good laugh.” He shrugs and leaves again.
Sometimes you wondered what Harry’s dating life was like, not that it was any of your business. He had mentioned a couple of times he didn’t make a lot of time for it, but what about one night stands? Did he make sure women got theirs when he was with them?
//
“I’m going to look like a fucking idiot compared to all of you.” You pout as you get your robe and hood on.
“You will not. Sort of miss the master’s robe, honestly, they’ve basically got pockets. You’ll have your doctoral one soon enough.” Harry says, putting on his own robes.
“I can never get this thing right, could you help me?”
“Of course.” He steps behind you and adjusts the blue hood for you.
“Do I need the cap? It’s just an honor’s ceremony.”
“You certainly do, and get used to it. This is one of three times a year you’ll need to put this on.”
“Three?”
“Grad commencement and undergrad commencement are separate ceremonies.”
“And we have to go to both?”
“We do.” He sighs. “You’re also not the only professor on this campus that isn’t a PhD yet, so don’t get down on yourself, yeah? You’re working towards it.” You turn towards him and his hands place gently on your shoulders.
“Thanks, Har.”
He smiles at the nickname and lets go of you. You and the other CM professors head over to the CM Honors Inductee Ceremony. It was a nice event for the honors students within the major. As soon as it ends you rip your cap off. You didn’t enjoy wearing it at all. You mingle with a few parents and take pictures with some of the students that wanted you in their photos.
“Y/N?” One of your students, Kayla, says.
“Yes?”
“I was wondering…for our final assignment, instead of writing you a paper about signs, could I make you a video instead?” She was in your Rhetoric and Semiotics class.
“Hmm, I think that could be really interesting. What would a video entail?”
“Well, I thought I could go to the grocery store and show unwritten rules, like how someone will put a divider down on the belt without having to be asked, or how when you go up to the deli you just grab a ticket, how branding works, stuff like that.”
“As long as you still send me a references page I think that could be fine. Of course, I’d have to show it to the rest of the class.”
“Deal.” She smiles. “Thanks.” You nod and then she walks away.
You head back to your office to hang your robe and hood up in your closet. You grab your back and smack right into your Harry.
“Jesus.” You say and back away. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even see you.”
“No, that was me, I was walking too fast.” He unzips his robe and hangs it up same as you in his own closet.
“Why were you in such a hurry?”
“Single mum at the ceremony got a little too liberal with the hugging, had to get out of there.” He chuckles. “You hungry?”
“I could eat.”
“Wanna go down to the pub? I don’t have Andy’s still in New York…”
“Sure! That sounds great, actually. Let me just drop all this off in my car.” He nods and you both walk down to the parking lot before walking the rest of the way to the pub.
You both sit down at the bar and order drinks. You both end up getting Mediterranean wraps, not feeling quite hungry enough for nachos this time around.
“Any summer plans yet? I know it’s early, but-“
“Paige and I need to sit down with Andy to figure all that out. He got to stay with me all year, so it would be make sense for him to be with her for the summer, but I have a feeling he won’t like that. School gets out in June for him so I’ve got some time…but I have a feeling it’s not going to be easy.”
“Why do you think he wants to be with you so much more?”
“I just think he’s at an age where maybe he feels more comfortable being with me. He’ll be eleven soon, changes are starting to happen.” He chuckles. “Maybe Paige and I could split up the summer or something.”
“How have his grades been? Wasn’t that part of the deal?”
“His marks have been great, he’s doing well. He has some great friends and he loves his teachers. He really enjoyed playing basketball this winter in the town league too.”
“Not that I’m an expert on custody agreements, but couldn’t you do what you’re doing now? Wednesdays and every other weekend with Paige, and the rest of the time with you?”
“He hates the back and forth in the summer, that’s why we agreed on summers with me. I mean, she still sees him in the summer, obviously, but he usually doesn’t have to go every other weekend. We’ll see.” He sighs. “We try to give him what he wants to not make waves, but at the end of the day we’re the parents and he’s the child and what we say goes.” He finishes off his drink and asks for another. “Need a refill?”
“Sure, I could probably handle two.” You shrug.
Two turned into three, then, four, and finally five. The sun had gone down and it was dark outside. You two had split a chocolate lava cake. The bar was starting to fill with college students.
“Holy shit, it’s almost ten!” You say. “Should probably go before some of these kids try to buy me a drink for a passing grade.” Harry laughs at that and agrees. You split the bill, and nearly lose your balance as you hop off the bar stool, clutching as his bicep.
“Wanna split an uber? I can’t drive, and I don’t think you can either.” He chuckles.
“Yeah, good idea. I’ll order it.”
“No, I’ve got it.” He takes his phone out as you both head outside. The car pulls up after a couple of minutes and you both get in. “We’ll drop you off first.”
“Alright.” You smile. “This was fun tonight. I like when we get to hang out.”
“Me too.” He smiles at you. “Can’t believe your first year is almost done.”
“I know, it’s really flown by.” You crane your neck from side to side and sigh. “Maybe now that I know the area better I’ll feel more comfortable trying to really meet someone.”
“Meet someone for what?” You look up at him, making a face as if the answer is obvious. “Oh! That’s cute you think you have time for a relationship.” He laughs.
“Excuse me?”
“Y/N, you spend all your free time on your research.”
“I just spent some free time with you, didn’t I? Janette and I go out, and-“
“Janette travels with Sadie in the summers.”
“Guess that leaves me stuck with you then.” You nudge him. “Actually, I’m hoping to go to Boston for a bit, visit friends and family. I’m hoping to get to the beach too. I love summer.”
“You should come hiking with me. Despite the black flies, May is great because it’s not humid yet.”
“Might have to take you up on that, I really enjoyed it this fall.” The car pulls up in front of your house. “Have a good night, Harry.”
“You too.” You both reach over and hug each other. “See you Monday.”
“See you Monday.” You smile and get out.
//
Once the school year was over, you sat with Lisa and went over your course evaluations. Overall you did really well, and she reaffirmed how happy she was that she hired you. She wishes you a happy summer, and that’s about it. You ask if you’re allowed to use your office in the summer, and she says yes but it gets really hot so it’s not as great as you may think.
Saturday night as you’re having your last girl’s night with Janette you get a text.
Harry: Hey! Know it’s last minute, but I’m taking Andy up Rattlesnake tomorrow morning, care to join?
Y/N: sure! As long as he doesn’t mind…
Harry: got his permission already, we’re all set ;)
You bite your bottom lip and smile, and Janette peaks over your shoulder to see what you could be smiling at.
“God, what a gift it would be if I come back in the fall and you two are dating.”
“Oh, stop.” You nudge her. “We’re friends.”
“Would it be bad to be more?”
“I don’t really think it’s a good idea to go out with someone you work with…”
“Good luck finding anyone else who’s decent around here then.”
“I could meet someone in Boston, do the long distance thing.”
“That gets old.”
“You’re doing it!”
“Yeah, but I’m more of a free spirit. Sadie and I don’t care about marriage or kids or a house in the hills. You, my sweet friend, would like all of those things.”
“True…” You finish your drink. “Well, if I don’t want to puke on this hike tomorrow I should probably get going.” You both stand and hug and kiss and wish each other fantastic summers.
You get a restful night’s sleep, and get yourself ready in the morning. You had invested in a pair of hiking boots in the fall, so you were feeling prepared. You put on a pair of spandex shorts, and put on some mesh shorts over those. You opt for a sweat resistant short sleeve shirt, and pull your ponytail through a baseball cap. You get everything in your small pack that you’ll need: sunglasses, sunscreen, water bottle, granola bar, rag, and bug spray. You drive out to the trail and park, lathering your arms and legs with sunscreen. You see Harry’s car pull up, and Andy hops out, bandana and clip keeping his hair back, just like Harry’s. Harry had a sleeveless shirt on and you could really see the definition in his shoulder muscles. You put your sunglasses on and head over to them.
“Morning, boys.” You smile.
“Morning.” Harry smiles back.
“Hi, Y/N.” Andy mumbles shyly.
“Hi, Andy. Dad told me you’re doing well in school. Bet you’re about ready to be done, huh?”
“Yeah, only a few more weeks.”
“Can’t believe he’s going into sixth grade. Makin’ me feel old.”
“You are old.” Andy giggles.
“Mhm, thanks.” Harry rolls his eyes. “Let’s get going, shall we?”
Andy walks a few paces ahead of you and Harry.
“His birthday is soon, yeah?”
“Yeah, next weekend, actually…um…Paige is hosting his party this year.” Andy looks back at Harry making a face, and Harry makes a face back at him.
“That’ll be fun.” You say, not noticing the exchange as you look at the various trees surrounding you.
“Yeah…it will be. Um…it’s Saturday afternoon…”
“Weather looking good?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s great. Probably still cold to swim at the lake, though, right?”
“Yeah, but the kids will still have a water balloon fight.”
“Dad, just ask her!” Andy groans as he turns around again.
“Ask me what?”
“He wants you to go with him to the party.”
“Andy!” Harry snaps at him. “Keep walking.”
Andy rolls his eyes and continues to walk ahead of you.
“Is that true, you want me to come?”
“Is that weird?”
“Not really.” You shrug. “Although, I’d only know you and Andy.” You chuckle.
“See…it’s just…Paige’s parents will be there, and that’s fine, but Noah’s parents are coming too, and it would be nice to have a buffer other than my son. He’ll be off playing games and eating junk good, I don’t want him to think he needs to babysit me…”
“I totally get it. I don’t think I have plans, I could go for a little while.”
“Really? I’m not asking too much?”
“Not at all, what are friends for?” You smile and he smiles back.
You walk a few paces ahead of Harry, but still behind Andy, giving Harry the perfect view of your bum in your shorts. He wasn’t staring, but he certainly wasn’t not looking. When you get up to the top your jaw drops. The view of the mountains and the lakes were even better in the late spring. You snap a few photos, taking one of Harry and Andy, Harry taking one of you looking out, and then you all sit down for some water and snacks.
“Andy, do you enjoy hiking with your Dad?”
“Yeah, it’s a lot of fun. We go a lot over the summer.”
“Andy’s hiked two of the 4,000 footers, hoping to get a couple more done this summer.”
“Wow! That’s incredible.”
“You should come with us, Y/N. We’re going to camp overnight at one of them.”
“Oh, you don’t wanna go camping with me, I’m a real snob. I need running water and indoor plumbing.”
“It has that.” Harry says, taking a sip of his water. “There’s bathroom, no shower or anything, but working toilets. You bring all your own camping gear. It’s pretty cool.”
“I’ll consider it. Think I should probably go on hikes that are longer than a mile up.” You laugh.
“You guys can do during the week now that school’s over, right?” Andy says.
“I wouldn’t want to exclude you, Andy.” You smile.
“Don’t worry about me.” He crunches down on his granola bar. He shares another look with Harry, but again it goes unnoticed by you, too busy looking out at the beauty of the mountains and lakes.
You all hike down the mountain in not time and say your goodbyes. Harry tells you he’ll text you with more details about the party later in the week.
“I told you she’d say yes.” Andy says from the backseat of the car.
“I wish you had let me work up to it a little more.”
“You were taking too long. Sometimes you just need to pull the trigger, Dad.”
“Is that so?” Harry laughs. “Things are a little more complicated at my age. Sort of awkward asking a colleague out on a date.”
“If you two are friends does that make it a date?”
“Well, she’ll be attending with me, so that makes her my date.”
“Does that mean you’ll kiss her goodnight?”
“Andy!” Harry looks back for a moment and then gets his eyes back on the road. “No, I’m not going to kiss her. You heard her, what are friends for, that’s all she sees me as.” He sighs to himself.
“That’s why you need to step up your game.”
“Son, do me a favor?”
“Yeah?”
“Just, shut up for the rest of the drive home.”
Andy bursts out laughing, but does as Harry asks, knowing he’s being a bit annoying.
//
It was a beautiful day on Saturday, but you were worried about being cold out by the water, so you opt for a pair of high-waist jean capris that flare a bit at the bottom. You find a sleeveless white blouse and pair it with a blue cardigan. You put your hair up in your two buns, and throw on a pair of wedges.
Harry: I’m outside
“Shit.” You say, just finishing your makeup. You run around, grabbing your purse, and the box you had wrapped for Andy’s gift, and head out.
You open the passenger seat and get settled, smiling at Harry.
“You didn’t have to get him anything.”
“I know, it’s just a new basketball. I saw it at WalMart when I was picking up a card. I hate showing up to these things empty handed. What did you get him?”
“A new bike.” He grins. “It’s in his mum’s garage already.”
“Oh! He’ll be so excited. He skateboard too right?”
“Yeah, I really don’t know where he gets his coordination from. Other than skiing I’m pretty clumsy.”
“Don’t you go to a boxing gym?”
“Yeah, and I look like a proper oaf.” He laughs and looks at you. “You look nice by the way. Your outfits are always so put together.”
“Oh, um, thanks.” You blush slightly. You wanted to tell him that you did your hair the way you did because you know he sort of likes it, but you thought that might be a weird thing to say. “Does, um, Paige know you’re bringing me?”
“She does.” Harry nods. “You’re not, like, nervous to meet her are you?”
“No.” You scoff. “Why would I be?”
“I don’t know.” You shrug. “What did you say to her about me?”
“Well, before I got a chance to say anything last night when she picked Andy up, he spilled the beans.” He rolls his eyes. “So I told her you’re a friend from work…is that okay?”
“Yeah, that’s what I am so it makes sense.” You drum your fingers on top of the box to the beat of the music. “None of your family will be there?”
“They’re going to FaceTime in for it. They came for his tenth birthday since it’s a bit more sentimental.”
“Do you miss them?”
“Oh sure, but I love here too much to go back permanently. I like going during winter break, that’s enough.”
“You don’t go during the summer?”
“Sometimes I do and sometimes I don’t. Sometimes they come to visit here during the summer too. My sister has two kids of her own so it’s not always easy to travel.” You nod your head. “You know, I’ve known you almost a year and I don’t know a thing about your family.”
“What’s there to know? My parents are still together, somehow, I’ve got an older brother who’s a sous chef at a restaurant in Boston. He’s not married, but he has a partner and he’s just lovely. I usually stay with them if I go home for a visit.”
“That’s great! How much older is he?”
“He’s around your age, actually, so not a huge age difference.”
“And when’s your birthday?”
“Beginning of August.” You grin.
“Wow, so you had just turned twenty-six when you came to us.”
“Pretty much, got hired at twenty-five, not too shabby.”
“Not at all.”
The conversation went on for the entire drive. That’s how it always was with you two, always a lot to talk about. When you get out of the car you’re able to get a good look at Harry’s outfit. His outfits were usually well crafted, you’d call his style dad-chic. He was in a pair of tan slacks that he had cuffed at the bottom, a pair of white loafers to go with them, a white tank top tucked in with a floral open short-sleeve button up. Very handsome. You smile at each other and then he leads you around back to where the party was. You weren’t the first people there, but you weren’t the last either.
“Dad!” Andy exclaims and runs over to you both. Harry picks him up and swings him around before setting him down.
“Happy birthday, kiddo.”
“Thanks! Look, all my friends from school came.” He points over to them. Harry recognizes Brandon and his father out of the bunch.
“That’s great, bud, let us come in and say hi to everyone, can you say hi to Y/N?”
“Hi, thanks for coming.” He gives you a surprising hug.
“Oh! You’re welcome, Andy. Happy birthday.”
He runs back over to his friends and you walk further into the backyard. It was stunning. Grass that led to sand that led to the lake water. A boat parked further down by the docks, and just gorgeous views for miles. The house itself was huge, you couldn’t believe it.
“Harry!” A woman, who you would assume is Paige, comes waking over. She was beautiful. Shoulder length blonde hair, sort of thin, but not quite a stick. She was wearing a yellow sundress. Her and Harry share a slight hug. “He’s eleven.” She pouts.
“He’s eleven.” Harry agrees with a sigh. “Oh, this is Y/N. Y/N this is Paige, Andy’s mum.”
“It’s so nice to meet you.” She says to you. “Let me take that for you, thank you for bringing him something. I’ll put this with the others.” She takes the box from you. “There’s wine and beer for the adults if you like, but we also have soda and water if you’re not up for drinking. I certainly had a glass after my folks showed up.”
“Did your mother put her white glove on and see if there was any dust?” Harry teases her.
“She may as well have.” Paige rolls her eyes.
Harry puts his hand on the small of your back and leads you closer into the party.
“This is a lovely home.”
“Oh, thank you. I sort of inherited it. It’s was my grandparents’.” She sets your gift on the table with the others. “There’s snacks inside and outside. Feel free to hangout wherever.”
“Where exactly are your parents?” Harry asks.
“Up on the deck.” Paige points up towards it. “Feel free to avoid them as long as you like. They’re speaking with Noah’s parents at the moment. My sister should be here soon.” She looks at her watch. “I’m gonna go check on some things.”
“Alright, love, thanks.” They smile at each other. You get a bad taste in your mouth hearing him call her love, for whatever reason. “Wanna meet some of the parents. I know that guy, Ed, the best. He’s Brandon’s dad, Andy’s best friend.”
“Sure.” You nod and Harry leads you over. “I never quite understood why some parents stay at kids parties.”
“Well…look around you, wouldn’t you wanna hang for a bit?”
“Got me there.”
“Harry, hi.” Ed shakes Harry’s hand.
“Good to see you, this is my friend Y/N, we work together at the university.”
“Hi.” You shake his hand.
“Great to meet you. Brandon was so excited when he got the invite. He and Andy get along so well.” The three of you watch them and the other kids playing tag.
“Born to be friends I’d say.” Harry says.
“Uncle Harry!” A young girl comes running over to Harry and he picks her up, kissing her check, and then setting her down.
“Hi, Rachel, can you say hello to my friend Y/N?”
“Hello.” She beams up at you, a couple of teeth missing. “My grammy and grampy are here.”
“Are they?” Harry says.
“Mhm, I love them a lot.”
“I’m sure they love you too, sweetheart. Are you having a good time for Andy’s birthday?”
“Yeah! We’re going to have a water balloon toss soon.”
“Oh, that’ll be fun!”
“Daddy said he’d be on my team for it.”
“Well, that’s good.”
She smiles again and then runs off.
“Your ex’s boyfriend’s daughter calls you Uncle Harry?” You ask.
“Yeah…she sort of started doing that on her own. She knows I’m Andy’s dad, but I don’t think it quite registers with her yet how we’re all mixed together.” He runs a hand through his hair. “Can I get you anything to drink?”
“A glass of white would be great, thank you.” Harry nods and leaves you standing with Ed.
“So, how long have you and H known each other?”
“Well, I started working at the university last August, so less than a year. We’re office neighbors.”
“Ah, how nice. He’s a really great guy, isn’t he? I coach the boys’ basketball team and he was the first to sign up for snack duty.”
“He’s definitely always thinking of others.”
“How long have you been seeing each other?”
“Oh, um, we’re not.” You shake your head. “He just asked me to come with him, ex in laws, you know?”
“Shit, I’m sorry for just assuming.”
“It’s alright.” You assure him. Harry comes over with a glass of wine for you and a bottle of beer for him.
“Sorry that took a moment, I ran into Noah inside and had to do the hellos. Still managed to not bump into Paige’s parents though, so that’s good.” He chuckles, taking a sip from his drink.
“Bad blood?” You ask.
“Even though things between Paige and I are perfectly fine, in their eyes, I’m always going to be the guy that got her pregnant and didn’t make an honest woman out of her.”
“That’s annoying.”
“Very.”
An hour or so passes and then Paige announces that the balloon toss will be beginning soon.
“Dad, be my partner?”
“You got it, buddy. Mind holding my drink?” He says to you.
“Not at all, have fun.” You smile.
More people had come down off the deck so they could watch. Some parents partnered with their kids, and other kids just partnered with kids. Everyone starts about a foot apart. This should be fun, you think, knowing Harry’s competitive nature.
“Would you look at Harry, he looks like an old man from Florida.” You hear a woman scoff.
“Notice how he’s been avoiding us, always a child.” You hear a man say, and this makes you turn towards them. They must be Paige’s parents.
Everyone playing was further apart now, some balloons had popped, but Harry and Andy were still in the game. The balloon pops at Rachel’s feet and she giggles loudly. There were only a few people now. You watch as Harry lobs the balloon perfectly to Andy, and Andy catches it with ease. It was Brandon and his dad vs. Harry and Andy now. Brandon overthrows it, causing the balloon to pop on the sand.
“We won!” Andy shouts running towards Harry.
“Great job.” Harry jostle’s Andy’s hair. Everyone cheers for them.
“What do you say, honey, cake and gifts now?” Paige asks Andy.
“Yeah.” He smiles.
All of the kids sit around a large glass table while Paige goes inside to get the cake. Harry walks back towards you and you hand him his beer.
“What were you saying about you have no coordination?”
“I had to win, it’s his birthday.” He laughs and then stops when he sees Paige’s parents. “Lydia, Nathan, how are you?”
“Oh, are you speaking with us now?” Lydia says playfully, giving him a hug. Harry shakes Nathan’s hand.
“You know how it is when you first get to a party, lots of excitement. I’d find you eventually.” He clears his throat. “This is Y/N, we work together at the university.”
“Hello.” You smile and they both look you up and down.
“How nice for you to bring a friend.” Nathan says, his tone laced with sarcasm.
“I’m gonna go see if she needs help with the cake.” Harry says to all of you, and you also decide to move away from the rude people you were standing with.
Paige and Harry stand on either side of Andy’s chair as everyone sings happy birthday. After cake the gifts come out. Noah takes Harry into the garage to grab the bike.
“Alright…this one is from…Y/N!” Paige says brightly as she hands the gift to Andy. He tears the wrapping paper off and gasps.
“Alright! A new basketball, thank you!” Andy says looking in your direction and you nod with a smile.
“Okay, Andy, Dad and I got you something really special.” Paige says pointing over to Harry who was wheeling the bike over. Andy’s jaw drops.
“Are you serious?!” He stand up and walks over to the bike.
“Know you’ve been wanting it for a while, and your grades have just been so good this year, we just had to do it. Mum’s got a new helmet, elbow and knee pads for you in the house.”
“Thank you so much!” He hugs Harry and then he hugs Paige.
“You’re more than welcome, baby doll.” Paige says to him and then he squirms away from her.
“Mum.” He huffs.
“Right, sorry, not in front of your friends.”
Paige’s sister helps her clean up the remains of the cake while the kids continue to play yard games. You find yourself sitting in a lawn chair when a man you have yet to meet takes the chair next to you, but you recognize him as Rachel’s father.
“We haven’t gotten to meet yet, I’m Noah.” He shakes your hand.
“I’m Y/N, nice to meet you.”
“Likewise.” He smiles. “I was happy to hear Harry was bringing someone with him. Takes a bit of the pressure off.”
“Exactly.” You nod.
“How’d you meet?”
“We’re office neighbors, I started working at the university less than a year ago.”
“Oh! Right, you went hiking with them last weekend.” He says in understanding. “Andy told us. He’s quite the gossip.”
You observe Noah as he speaks. His hair has turned to salt and pepper, definitely had crow’s feet, also wore glasses, but he had a warm and inviting smile, similar to his daughter’s.
“He certainly speaks his mind.” You chuckle. “He’s very sweet though, I have to say.”
“Very sweet. He’s a good kid. It’s nice for Rach to have someone to grow up with a little She adores him, definitely sees him as a big brother.”
“That’s good. I’ve always found blended families to be interesting. You all are doing it well.”
“Took us a while to get to this point, but it’s all been worth it.”
“Y/N?” You both turn to look at Harry. “Party’s starting to dissipate a bit, are you about ready to head out?”
“Sure!” You stand up. “It was nice talking to you.”
“Same here.” Noah stands up and gives Harry a thumbs up without you seeing.
You both say your goodbyes, Andy gives you another hug and says thank you again for the gift. Harry tells him he’ll see him Sunday night, and then you head to his car.
“Hope you didn’t mind when I had to leave to chat a couple of times.”
“Oh, it was fine. I enjoyed just hanging out. It was a beautiful day.” The sun was just starting to set.
“Yeah, I’m glad the weather was nice. I think it’s supposed to rain tomorrow.” He looks at you and then gets his attention back on the road. “You really did look nice today.”
“Thank you, Harry.” You smile and give his shoulder a squeeze.
“Am I…taking you straight home?”
You blink a couple of times before looking at him.
“Where else would we go?”
“Well, I’ve got a back deck of my own. We could sit out, enjoy the sunset…if you want.”
“That sounds nice, actually. Yeah, let’s do that.” You smile.
“Great.”
You notice his jaw and shoulders relax. Were you making him tense? You both listen to the music on the radio as he drives you to his home. You smile as he pulls up. It was a decent size ranch. Cream color paneling and red shutters, very cute.
“Here were are.” He says awkwardly as you both get out.
“Do I get a tour?”
“Of course!”
He unlocks the front door and leads you inside. There was an open concept kitchen and living area. The house smelled like fresh coffee. He noticed you taking a whiff.
“I have an automatic air freshener.” He says and you nod.
“I like it, should get one for my place.”
“There’s a full bath down the hall, Andy uses that, and then I have my own bathroom. Three bedrooms totally, and then you can see I technically have two levels, that’s what I use for my office.”
“It’s a huge loft.”
“Yeah, it’s partially why I bought the place. I didn’t feel cramped. Basement’s partially finished which will be great for Andy when he’s over if he wants to have parties or whatever. Uh, and then the deck is this way. Can I get you anything…I only have red wine, I know you like white…”
“Red’s fine, maybe just put an ice cube in it for me?”
“Can do, make yourself comfortable outside.” He smiles.
You slide the glass door open and smile. It was a decent sized deck. There was a small glass round table with chairs, a grill, and some Adirondack chairs as well. You sit in one of those after taking a glance at the flowers and plants he had in pots. You also notice the various flower beds he had in the yard.
“Here you go.” He says, sitting down next to you, handing you the glass of wine.
“Thank you.” You smile and take a sip. You cross your cardigan over yourself.
“Are you cold? I can get a blanket.”
“Oh, no I’m fine, thanks. It’s beautiful out here.”
“Thanks, took me a while to get it landscaped the way I like.” He lights the citronella candle on the small table between you to help keep any bugs away. “I’ve been thinking of getting an above ground pool for Andy, he loves to swim, but it’s a lot maintenance, and his mum as the lake right there.”
“That house is incredible.”
“Noah’s helped her revamp it quite a bit, and the boat’s his.” He takes a sip of his drink and looks at you. “Thanks again for coming today.”
“Of course, I had a really good time.” You smile.
“You’re not just saying that?”
“Not at all. It was nice to finally meet the people you’ve told me so much about.”
“Are you hungry or anything? I could bring some-“
“Harry.” You put your hand over his that was resting on the arm of the chair. “Relax, yeah? I’m all set, thank you.”
“Alright.” He blushes and looks straight ahead. You notice him check an app on his phone. “Are you free Tuesday morning?”
“I think so, why?”
“Weather’s looking good, how about we go on one of those longer hikes?”
“I’d like that.” You smile. “Anything special I’d need to back.”
“Just a lunch, maybe some T.P.”
“You’re funny if think I’m going to take a piss in the woods.”
“Everyone does it.” He shrugs. “Don’t worry, I’d keep lookout for you.”
“You men have it so easy, you can just whip your things out, go quick, and you’re all set. Me, I’d have to roll my pants down, squat, hope none of it got on my shoes, wipe, and then get dressed again.”
“I’ve had to do that before, sometimes you just need to take a shit in the woods.” You burst out laughing at that. “Course that only happened because I went out drinking the night before.”
“Good to know.” You wipe a tear from your eye. “But seriously, I’d love to go hiking with you Tuesday.”
“I know it was more so Andy that invited you on our little camping trip, but you’re welcome to join in on that if you feel comfortable.”
“I would just feel like I’m intruding on your quality time.”
“You wouldn’t be, he likes you…um…I like you.” Your head snaps in his direction and your eyebrows shoot up. “I mean, like, I like hanging out with you, is all.” He was internally cringing at himself.
“I like hanging out with you too.” You swallow. “I’m glad we’ve gotten to know each other so well. You’ve been a great help with my classes. You’re so progressive, not always using the same syllabus and being willing to make things work for the students. It’s refreshing.”
“Please, go on, the narcissist within me is loving it.” He smirks and you roll your eyes. “Don’t sell yourself short, you’re doing really well. I enjoyed observing your rhetoric class. It was a nice refresher. I hope you won’t work yourself to much this summer. I know it’s more time for research and writing, but it’s also time for you to clear your head.”
“Thanks, I’ll try to keep that in mind.” You finish off your wine just as the sun it setting, the light from the candle being the only thing to keep things bright enough to see.
“I can, uh, bring you home now if you want.”
“I could just get an uber so you don’t have to go out again.”
“Don’t be silly, it’s no trouble.”
Harry drives you home, and you find yourself lingering in the car.
“So…Tuesday?”
“Tuesday.” He smiles. “Bright and early.”
“How early?” You raise an eyebrow.”
“How’s six sound? I’ll come pick you up, we’ll get to the trailhead by 6:30. It’s always better to summit earlier in the day.”
“You’re the expert.” You shrug. “Works for me.”
You both lean across the console to give each other a hug a goodbye, like you normally would, only this time…you press your lips to his cheek before getting out of the car. His gaze stays fixed on you, and it’s not until you’re inside your building where he lightly presses his fingers to his cheek to feel where you kissed him.
#harry styles#office neighbors#harry styles series#harry styles au#harry styles imagine#harry styles fic#harry styles fanfic#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#harry styles y/n#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles smut#professor!harry#singledad!harry#professor!y/n
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2021.02.16 1st talk session of Meguro Rock-May-KanGIG at Zepp Yokohama
Zepp Yokohama is a such a nice venue, I really hope we will get to see dir play there live properly!
The concert recorded at Meguro RockMayKan was great! The setlist surprised me quite a lot (especially encore!!!)! And I think that was the smallest stage I ever saw dir on!😆 the footage definitely deserves a separate entry and I don't want to spoil anyone if they go to next events.
After the concert film screening staff quickly prepared the stage, bringing two long tables and four chairs, they also placed a water bottle at each seat.
Punctually (thank you for not repeating Nagoya's situation😆), at 3:30 Fujieda came on stage and started with greeting everyone, and asking us to greet the band members with applause.
After a moment of uncertainty (even as my heart was almost set it will be Kyo) Die came on stage with Kyo after him.٩( ˆoˆ )۶
They both looked super classy. Die had a dark grey suit with a long jacket, his usual award winning hair and wore sunglasses.
Kyo had a black jacket (with a round Chanel pin) and shirt, green hair, he wore glasses (not sunglasses).
When they sat (Kyo stood in front of the chair first until Fujieda gestured them to sit) F asked them to introduce themselves.
D: ども、Dieです
K: 京です
...and then F announced 'today is Kyo's birthday!' and a birthday song melody began to play😆
Kyo turned on his murder face glaring at Fujieda who happily observed 'oh what's this song?'😂
The soft Happy Birthday melody got then a guitar joining in and Takabayashi came on the stage carrying a small strawberry shortcake (with a chocolate message おめでとう京さん) which of course he placed in front of Kyo.
We couldn't sing but we clapped.
Kyo snatched a strawberry and popped it in his mouth. He gestured 'throat slashing' looking at Fujieda😂
And then ate another strawberry🍓😂
F: the song was made by Die.
K: (only interested in the cake) Could I get a fork?
(staff went to get him one)
F: how do you feel? (about your own birthday)
K: I don't care.
The fork arrived and Kyo literally dug in right in the middle, scooping a huge piece he put whole in his mouth.
Fujieda wisely left Kyo to his cake then and started talking about RMK footage. Die said they had hard time deciding on a tour or events like this in COVID situation. They also mentioned the secret show in 2009 was held in RMK.
Next Die talked about how nice it was to rehearse and play together with the band, first time since March, he was happy about the show, creating sound together as 5 people.
F: did you finish eating K?
K: yup
(there was last 🍓 left (out of 4 big ones), he ate about 25~35%?)
F: then tell us about recording the RockMayKan show!
K: the place was very narrow.
F: anything else?
K: Not really.
But then he added more, that as it has been a while it felt like the first day of the tour.
F: was there anything that was difficult? Was a struggle?
K: when recording I can do it at my own pace, I can do one song when I want, but that day it was back to performing over 10 songs all at once, it was tough, hard on my throat, energy/stamina wise.
But at the same time it was exciting, meet with other members, play music together, that was nice.
F: 2019 was filled with shows, it was busy, then things changed. So after a break to see an audience again got me nervous, in a good way.
Next F said had would like to talk about the release of Oboro.
D: what do you want to know?
F: so the song is not out yet, any hints?
D: it's gonna stay a secret for a bit more.
F: the 2nd track is TDFF?
D: (interesting letters ???didn't catch exactly) it's a powerful song.
F: how is Oboro for you Kyo?
K: quite fresh/refreshing
F: really?!
D: especially the video
...but then Kyo just burst with a whole speech how Fujieda always ask something and when he gets an aswer he didn't expect he doesn't react well, just says what he wants, is not listening to what Kyo says and... it went for a while😆
Next F moved to the topic of the merchandise and asked the band members which items they like.
K: the big badge, before the big pick was huge, shouldn't the badge be like this size (showing about 20cm with his hands). It bothered me from when I saw it. Isn't it just normal?
in the end they agreed it's just 'a bit big' 😂
F: how about for you, D?
D: the rubber key chains?
F: they got sold out very quickly, sorry to fans about that.
D: they are cute. And I like the wristbands too. The color combinations are nice.
T: the badge has the old band's logo, it brings me back
D talked about old times when artists made stickers like that, with logos, to put on their equipment, they worked a bit like business cards, he said he still have some at home.
T picked the rechargeable heat pack.
K: so it's to be used instead of heat packs? (ホッカイロ)
F: uh, it's already warm.
D: huh? Show me? (F passed it to him) it's like a phone that gets hot when charging.
Next they moved on to fans questions. ("~~" is a question from fans they read)
K (unusually picks the first question super fast): "what's your favourite cake?"
K: Well, the strawberry shortcake is good, but this one doesn't have strawberries inside, just some jam, it should have strawberries inside too.
(F so dead😂😂😂)
F: "what's your best or bad memory connected to birthdays?"
K: at a concert somewhere, it was quite long time ago, I got a present all wrapped and in a bag from a silver accessories brand I liked, so nicely wrapped, I opened it and it was empty, isn't that really strange? I looked at the attached letter and it said the person is keeping the item for themselves. It annoyed me so much, the worst bd memory ever.
☹️
F: how about you D?
D: it's not exactly bad memory, but many band members have birthdays in February, in the past when we were still giving each other presents Toshiya and I had to think what to get for 3 people, it was always tough. We stopped that at some point.
T: "any memory/story about China Town?"
D: I like China Town
T: do you go often?
D: sometimes. But only to my favorite restaurants. (?? Talked more about the stadium?)
T: do you usually order the same thing?
D: Mabodofu, the spicy version
(then I think he said something like there's no point in overdoing spicyness, it's not healthy??)
K: I don't know which restaurants are good so I get annoyed. I don't know what decides it's a good one or not.
F: I don't go, but I'd like to.
then they talked about the types of Chinese food and food they tried when in other Asian countries.
K: when we were touring in the US I ordered Chinese abd it was terrible, it was all bad. The egg soup was all clumpy, so bad.
D: "any stories about RockMayKan?"
D: honestly I don't have good memories with this venue, when with a previous band we played together with more senior bands and they took over the dressing room, we couldn't use it, and we also had to greet all senpai musicians.
K: remember when Shinya sat on the lockers? Like on top of the 170cm lockers?
D: was it in Nagoya?
K: he's done his make up there, like a cat or something
D: Shinya climbed a locker and made a space for himself there
K: He's not exactly human. Normally you would not even consider climbing a locker...
D: we usually did our make up on the stairs, didn't use changing room. When we played at RMK as dir for the first time I saw 'this is the changing room!'
He also talked about how the hair spray used by all the bandomen would stink up the whole place 😂
F: "what do you usually wear to sleep?"
K: just underwear. Doesn't matter if it's summer or winter I want to feel the towel like fabric, I use towel cloth for my bedding, I want my whole body to feel it so there's no point in wearing pajamas.
D: at home...wait you mean my home or my family house? At my parents' I always wear the pajama my mum got me, currently the Mickey Mouse one. I only have that one there.
K( with sudden interest): can you draw it?
D: it's about this big, quite big print. The one I wear at home, it wasn't sent by my mum.
K: not Mickey one??
D: that's Nightmare Before Christmas.
K: Disney theme?
D: this one has a face in the front.
K: do you change characters (for pajamas) every year?
D: this year it's Nightmare.
Next was something they wanted to say to F. K chose to comment on his haircut, because it's asymmetric K is bothered that it will end as an uzumaki in the back. They talked more about F's style.
F: "I'd like you to tell us about your costumes you wore for RMK show".
D: I wanted something motovating so red colour.
K: I had no special reasoning, just what I wanted to wear then.
D: "have you gotten any food delivery?"
He said he only got it once or not much, I think he said he's not fond of shops that don't do it properly, but when recording it's good???
F: Shinya said he orders Uber almost everyday.
K: I only got Uber once.
F: what did you get?
K: Burger King. I quit McDonalds. After eating Burger King I can't go back to McDonalds.
They talked about sizes of burger here?? Whooper versus Junior Whooper?
F: So McD is not good?
K: the meat taste is different. McDonald now tastes like trash.
F: what about the Mc fries, when they get a bit soft.
K: not only a bit. Gross.
D: in the US we usually also have some American staff, when we had some time and we went to eat out, it was funny, American staff went for sushi, Shinya went for McDonalds.
F: was it last time?
D: no, quite some time ago.
F: when did you eat McDonalds the last time?
D: I also don't eat it, it's been some time already.
They talked more about the food, some restaurants D liked in the US (didn't catch the name🙃 but in Sacramento?), then F talked more about event schedule and the time was over.
Last comments from the band members:
Die: From today the new series of film screening starts, thank you for coming to the first day. So well... the band is working on the new album while coming to the events at the same time, we're working on creating a great album. Please come amd enjoy the events.
Kyo: I don't have a special thing to say. Many of you will be coming to few or many events and will end up with many t-shirts, you can do whatever with them, even use them as a doormat, there are many ways to use them, no problem for the whole year.
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MC giving RFA+Minor trio a gift for Valentine's day please! :D
I’ve tweaked this a little bit so it’s also a returned gift!! I hope you like it!! This is my second Valentine’s day request <3
RFA + Minor Trio Valentine’s Gift Exchange Headcanons
Yoosung Kim Valentine’s Gifts
You didn’t have to think too hard to decide on what to get Yoosung for Valentine’s Day, he had been complaining that he needed a new headset for a few weeks but had already spent his student budget on new limited edition LOLOL skins. The poor boy had already been reduced to instant ramen to afford these luxuries. You didn’t know too much about which sort of headset he’d prefer, so you just got him a decently branded one that had good reviews and hoped it would work.
You also wanted to get him some extra things to go in his giftbag, so you got him a new t-shirt tand some cute strawberry heart shaped Pocky, which you definitely didn’t buy with the pure intention of playing the Pocky Game with him. Of course not.
Yoosung would have put quite a bit of effort into thinking about what to get you for Valentine’s Day, since he didn’t want to screw up and be a bad boyfriend. He even asked Zen for advice, but didn’t think the bold, extravagant declaration of love really suited him.
Yoosung decided to go for the traditional route and gift you a little charm bracelet, a small bouquet of red roses and cook a meal for you. Of course, it was his special omurice, packed with extra love because it was Valentine’s day. He’d picked out the charm bracelet online, it was a little silver one with a sparkly star charm on it.
Zen/Hyun Ryu Valentine’s Gifts
If Zen knew anything, it was dramatic romance. He’ll pour Valentine’s clichés on you like it’s nobody’s business. Zen buys you a chunky bouquet of red roses, a big box of chocolate (he doesn’t usually eat chocolate because he doesn’t want the sugar to affect his skin, so he makes sure the box is extra big so he can cheekily pick at a few that he likes) and takes you out for an evening meal.
When you get home after the dinner, Zen will pick you up outside the door and carry you bridal style over the threshold, just because he wants you to feel like a princess in his arms.
You can also bet that Zen is going to sing for you for Valentine’s Day. He’d have spent a while picking out the song, and depending on what he thought was best, it would be 1) Your favourite song, 2) A dramatic love ballad from a musical he’d been in, or 3) a joking strip-tease song.
For your gifts, you’d have gotten Zen some new skincare products that he’d been looking at. You knew how much he loved his sheet masks so you’d brought him a fun selection to have a try of. Some of your favourite evenings with Zen were spent doing skincare on one another, so you wanted an excuse to do that more.
For his big gift, you got him a ticket for two to go for an all-exclusive spa day trip. He was flustered that you’d spent so much money on him, but you assured him it was for the both of you to spend time together and to enjoy!
Jaehee Kang Valentine’s Gifts
Valentine’s Day wasn’t a holiday that Jaehee had off from work if it was a weekday, so you were really lucky this year that it had fallen on a Sunday. She’d gotten all of her work done late on the Saturday night in order to have the day free to spend with you.
You got Jaehee a fancy new coffee maker that she had had her eye on for a while, but couldn’t justify to herself since her old one was still in fine, working condition. You’d imported some special coffee beans for her to try too. You also felt like it was important to give Jaehee some flowers too, since you knew sometimes she felt so dull and drab because of how Jumin made her dress for work, she deserved to feel pretty too.
Jaehee got you tickets to a musical show you’d been wanting to see, but had missed the tickets for. She’d seen that a pair of them had gone up for sale second hand and had quickly snatched the sale in order to get them for you. It wasn’t a show that she’d have usually seen, but she’s very excited to get to watch it with you.
Jumin Han Valentine’s Gifts
To start, you’d have gently implied to Jumin about setting a budget for Valentine’s Day, because God knows he didn’t know the value of money sometimes and you felt bad knowing you couldn’t match whatever he was going to spend. You didn’t want Valentine’s to be about money, but about your feelings for one another.
You told the chef on Saturday night that he wasn’t needed for breakfast since you wanted to make breakfast for Jumin yourself. You made him a spread of sweet pancakes with syrup and fruit and hand dripped his coffee yourself, taking the time to decorate a little foam Elizabeth the 3rd on top of it. You’d also made him lunch to take to work, and put a little note in it saying that you and Elizabeth missed him whilst he was gone.
Jumin had arranged for the two of you to go to an extremely overpriced restaurant for dinner, which is where you were exchanging gifts. You have Jumin a pair of cufflinks engraved with yours and his initials, which he immediately swapped the ones he was currently wearing for.
Coincidentally, Jumin also gave you jewellery, it was a beautiful necklace with far too many diamonds in. He clipped it around your neck, agreeing to himself that his selection was correct as it looked beautiful on you. He also added that there was another gift waiting for you at home, since it would have been inappropriate to bring to the restaurant.
He had gotten you a set of lingerie to wear for the night, obviously.
Saeyoung Choi Valentine’s Gifts
Seven was a hit at heart, and a car guy, so the choice was obvious: you were going to get him a giant Hot Wheels tracks with all the extra decorations. You spent far too much money on it, but knowing how happy it would make him made it entirely worth it.
You thought he was going to cry when he unwrapped it, and he immediately set it up and spent hours making the track and remaking it, adding extra obstacles, making the car go over Saeran’s head, loop, jump through flames- everything. He was so happy with your gift that he almost forgot to give you your own gift.
Which he then changed into-
Seven was going to be your maid for the day, outfit and all. He explained his gift by telling you he knew how much effort it must be to look after him, so he was going to look after you for a change, and ‘look good while doing it’.
He also got you a bunch of imported snacks that you had really been wanting to try, but couldn’t work out the proxy or shipping to be able to do it. You were swimming in snacks, you didn’t know where they were going to go.
V/Jihyun Kim Valentine’s Gifts
Always a romantic at heart, V would have put a lot of effort into your Valentine’s gifts and spent a lot of time considering it, he wouldn’t have wanted it to be a commercial gimmick but an actual symbol of his love for you. You felt the same, of course.
For V, you gifted him a new portable polaroid camera and cartridges. He had so many big expensive cameras, but a little polaroid captures fun moments and prints them instantly. They could capture moments without taking V out of it and distancing himself.
You also gave him a set of imported watercolours from Europe, since the reviews said that they were really good. He’d mentioned wanting to experiment more with watercolours, so this was the perfect time to gift him a set to practice with.
For your gifts, V would have first gifted you a weekend getaway for the two of you, knowing how stressed you had been recently. He wanted to give you a chance to relax and to just spend some time being utterly in love with one another.
Secondly, V gifted you a painting, of your hand touching a rose petal and being illuminated by the sun. He didn’t need to explain it, because he knew the painting reached your heart.
GE Saeran Choi Valentine’s Gifts
Saeran was always getting you gifts, so he wanted to do something extra special for Valentine’s Day, but remaining in the spirit of the holiday. He was in love with love, and wanted to show it.
You’d woken up to a room full of flowers, so many flowers. Saeran would have decorated the room silently before you had woken up since he wanted you to wake up to the beautiful sight. He’d tell you the meaning of each flower and how each one represents a different reason as to why he loves you entirely. You’d been awake about thirty seconds, this man is shameless with his affection.
Saeran would make you breakfast in bed and would cook for you for the entire day, making whatever you wanted to eat. He’d already made a bunch of baked goods in preparation whilst you were asleep.
Over dinner, you’d give him his gifts even though you were worried that they weren’t enough in comparison to what he had done. You gave him some seeds, a new pair of gardening gloves since he was continuously hurting his hands on rose thorns, a photo album of the happy memories the two of you had been making with the RFA and a little keychain that had a picture of the two of you in it to go on his housekeys. Needless to say, he cried.
Saeran had also got you another gift, a tiny gold necklace with a little heart in the middle of it. He said he chose it because he wanted you to carry his heart with you everywhere you go.
Vanderwood Valentine’s Gifts
Vanderwood absolutely forgot Valentine’s Day was a thing until the day before, when he wanted in on Seven trying on his maid outfit to make sure it still fit okay and had to immediately explain himself.
He was not someone to celebrate Valentine’s Day, since he didn’t want to get attached to anyone, but you had somehow wormed your way into his life and refused to leave.
He’d have gotten you a new laptop, since he couldn’t bear to look at that horrific old thing you were using. He set it up with anti-tracking software and made it as safe as possible to people like him didn’t steal your information, he wouldn’t do anything romantic, but he might be a little less mean to you for that day. He wouldn’t even say ‘Happy Valentine’s Day’ to you, he’d just hand you the laptop and show you how to use it.
For your gift to Vanderwood, you tried gifting him a vape pen so help him cut down on smoking so much, but he didn’t willingly accept this. He took it, and would maybe use it when he was at home and no one could see him vaping though, since you’re the one who gave it to him.
Just to add an extra gift in, since you knew the vape pen wouldn’t go down well, you gave him a voucher for a coffee shop and an Elvish dictionary: you had insider information that Seven was about to change the intercom on the door’s language, after all.
#mystic messenger#mystic messenger x reader#mystic messenger hc#jumin han#yoosung kim#saeran choi#saeyoung choi#zen mystic messenger#jaehee kang#hyun ryu#vanderwood#vanderwood mystic messenger#jihyun kim#mystic messenger reader insert#mystic messenger self insert
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New Girl on the Block (4)
(Y’all ready to read the next update??? Enjoy part four of this fic and if you’re interested, feel free to check out the mini series connected to this called the Journal Entries. It’s just little journal snippets from the two dorks that I decided to write for fun :D)
Ch.1 / Ch.3 / Ch.5
Chapter 4: Get to Know You
Marinette slipped on her white, non-flour-covered leather jacket and pushed her pigtails back so they wouldn’t be tucked into her outfit. She then smoothed out her pink dress with a smile, admiring the black flowers that she’d stitched along the bottom. This dress had been one of her stress-relieving projects, but it turned out quite well, in her opinion.
Once Papa had finished teaching her friends how to fold the dough, he put their croissants into the fridge to chill them and instructed everyone to go upstairs and wash up. Marinette dutifully took them up to her room where her personal bathroom was and taught them how to use the shower, but when she tried to lead one of them to her parent’s bathroom as well, they insisted that she take a shower there herself.
“What kind of gentlemen would we be if we forced the ladies to wait on us?” Claude had said light-heartedly, though she could tell he meant it. Allegra’s smirk as she walked in the bathroom to take a shower first was proof of that.
The notion had warmed Marinette’s heart, coaxing a giggle from her each time she thought about it. It might be hard to see sometimes, but Claude, Allan, and Felix truly were a considerate and chivalrous group of boys.
Now, She’s finished her shower in her parent’s bathroom and gone back up to her bedroom, where Allegra, Claude, and Allan had been patiently waiting. Allegra was nice and clean again, wearing the long, purple shirt and black leggings that Marinette had given her, and Claude appeared to have just exited the shower, his damp hair sticking to his face and dripping across his borrowed, black and blue “O.K” shirt. Allan was still covered in flour.
Allegra smiled at Marinette from her spot on the chaise as she re-braided her long, golden blonde hair. “Thanks for the extra clothes, Mari! These are amazing.”
“Yeah!” Claude agreed enthusiastically, holding out his with a grin. “This shirt is awesome!”
Marinette glanced down to hide her blush. “I-It’s the least I could do.”
“We still appreciate it.” Allan replied.
“Oh!” Marinette said, suddenly thinking about the fact that Allan was still covered in flour. “Allan, do you want to use Maman’s shower? You don’t have to stand around waiting for Felix.”
That who she assumed was occupying the shower, anyway. The water was still running, and everyone but Felix was present.
Allan waved a hand. “Nah, it’s fine. I’ll be getting a shower soon if Felix would hurry up.”
Marinette chuckled at Allan’s obvious call to Felix, even more so when Felix shouted back from the bathroom, “You’re the one that let me go first!”
“I didn’t know you would take a day and a half!”
“That’s still your fault then, isn’t it?” Felix shot back.
Allan scoffed and crossed his arms, causing Marinette to offer her parent’s shower again out of guilt. She had been the one to throw flour on him, after all.
“Are you sure you don’t want to-”
The bathroom door swung open, effectively cutting Marinette off, and Felix stepped out with one hand on his hip and the other hand on the towel that was draped across his head. He shot Allan a glare, practically growling the words, “There. I’m out. Are you happy?”
“Delighted.” Allan responded sarcastically.
Marinette might have been concerned about the growing conflict had she not been focused on Felix’s outfit. Or rather, how well it suited him. The black, three-quarter-sleeved shirt that she’d given him, along with the plaid green, button-up shirt she’d provided to go underneath, clung to his waist, revealing his surprisingly slender figure. The dark grey jeans he wore in place of his dress pants didn’t fit the outfit exactly, but they worked well enough, and Marinette eagerly started taking mental notes for future adjustments.
Allan grabbed his clothes and walked into the bathroom, while Felix glared daggers at him until the bathroom door closed.
“Woah~” Allegra crowed, easily breaking the tension. “You should wear casual outfits more often, Felix. They really suit you.”
Claude smirked. “No kidding. I swear you’ve worn the same suit for the whole two years we’ve known.”
Felix turned his glare to Claude with a scoff. “Don’t be ridiculous. I’ve worn plenty of suits, each one made differently.”
Allegra snorted. “That wasn’t.. That was not the point, Felix.”
Felix narrowed his eyes, the barest hint of confusion finding its way to his features, and Marinette took that opportunity to speak up.
“How’s the outfit? Does it fit alright?” She asked. Hopefully she can find the original measurements for the outfit if it does fit fine, because Felix was most likely going to become a regular customer. Maybe he wouldn’t hire her for actual commissions, but she might end up making something for him on impulse. (as you do)
Felix caught her eye, his glare slowly fading as he registered her question.
“The fabric is extremely comfortable, and the clothes fit perfectly.” He said after a moment. “You said you made these?”
She nodded. “With my sewing machine. I was thinking of putting a green paw print on the shirt too, but I haven’t gotten around to it.”
Felix hummed, idly pulling his towel from on top of his head to around his shoulders. “I see. Thank you for lending them to me.”
Marinette blinked, suddenly finding herself captivated by the way his hair fell across his face. Still being damp, various strands stuck to his forehead and cheeks, and he reached up to brush them away. This brought her attention to his face, which, for some reason, she hadn’t quite noticed before. The defined jawline, the subtle-yet-there cheek bones, the pointed nose- all of his features were sharp. Even his eyes held a silver tint to them that reminded her of steel.
These observations dragged her to one, rather important revelation: Felix Culpa was actually a fairly handsome person.
“Marinette?” Felix said, drawing her from her thoughts. “Are you alright?”
A rush of heat swarmed her cheeks, and Marinette straightened. “W-what? I mean yes! Yeah, I’m totally fine, I.. yes.”
“Hey, speaking of clothes!” Claude piped up, graciously saving Marinette from her own awkwardness. “How’s my prince costume going?”
Marinette twirled around in her rolling chair and grabbed for her sketching notebook. A distraction was definitely something she needed right now.
“I’ve got a few different ideas, but you need to come tell which one you like best.” She explained as she flipped open the notebook.
Claude hopped up from the stray chest he’d been sitting on and practically bounced over to her seat. She let him scan each page, smiling when he started humming “Ooh’s” and “Aah’s”.
“I can only pick one?! But they’re all so good!” Claude remarked, almost exasperated.
Marinette chuckled. “Well.. I guess I can make all of them for you, but you at least need to choose which one I start on.”
Claude gasped. “You mean you’re going to make all of these for me?”
“It’s going to take a month or so to get them all done.” She warned. “But-”
Claude scooped her into a bone-crushing hug, briefly reminding her of her father. “Thank you, Mari! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You’re the best!”
Marinette laughed and gave him a light pat on the arm. “You’re welcome.”
Her smile widened as Claude eagerly grabbed the notebook and ran back to his designated chest to look through the drawing again. It was nice to see someone who was also enthusiastic about fashion. She’d gotten tired of talking to people who simply didn’t understand the hype of creating unique styles of clothing.
“You know he’s never going to leave you alone now, right?” Felix commented next to her.
Marinette offered him a glance as she said, “I think I can live with that.”
Felix shrugged. “Suit yourself.”
She smiled at that. Felix may be striking, but that didn’t have to change anything. Lots of people were striking. And lots of people remained friends despite that.
“Oh,” Felix muttered, seeming to remember something, “Where do you want me to put my clothes? They’re still in the bathroom because of Allan, but..”
“Uhm.. I think Maman said she was going to wash them.” Marinette answered. “She wanted to try to get them clean before supper for all of you.”
“Ah, supper.” Claude cut in, heaving a jokingly wistful sigh. “I can’t wait for that. If your mom’s croissants can taste that heavenly, then her full meals must be amazing.”
He sunk against the chest for emphasis, not realizing that there was a gap between the chest and the wall. The sudden weight threw the chest off balance, and it tipped forward, causing Claude to get jerked backwards. He flailed his arms briefly and yelped before crashing to the floor. The front of the chest hit the ground as well, and the impact popped it open, scattering various objects across the floor.
“Oh, Claude!”
“Are you okay?”
The girls rushed to his side to help him up, but Felix shot him a flat look.
“First the kitchen and now her bedroom.” He said curtly. “Should we tear up the living room next? Or perhaps the dining room has more fragile items?”
Allegra rolled her eyes. “Felix, can you at least try to be sympathetic.”
“I am being sympathetic. Marinette doesn’t have the money to replace things at the drop of a hat like we do. It’s rude to behave so recklessly in her home.”
Marinette glanced up at Felix, not sure whether to find his words sweet or offensive. “Trust me, it’s fine. This chest is old anyway.”
Felix’s frown told her that he didn’t agree on the matter, but before he could argue further, the bathroom door swung open again.
“What happened?” Allan asked, his hair still dripping wet. “I heard the crash. Is anyone hurt?”
“Only my pride.” Claude groaned in response. He was sitting up now and rubbing his head as Allegra switched between scolding and coddling.
Allan sighed with relief. “Oh, good. You can’t hurt something that’s not there.”
“Hey!”
Marinette giggled at the comment. “Allan, how is your outfit? Do I need to make any adjustments?”
Allan glanced down at his clothes. She’d given him a maroon shirt with a blue heartbeat line in the center, a black and blue shirt to go underneath, and a pair of black jeans. He didn’t appear to be wearing the second shirt, though.
“Oh, they fit great.” He said, twisted his torso a bit to get a better feel for the new clothes. “I didn’t have time to put on the second shirt, though. I heard the crash and panicked.”
Marinette offered him a smile. “That’s fine. I can just put it back in the closet.”
Allan nodded and looked down at the mess. “So Claude spilled this chest?”
“Yeah, he was being an idiot.” Allegra remarked as she picked up one of the trinkets. “You know. Nothing new.”
“Wow. can you guys lay off for two seconds?” Claude huffed. He reached forward to pick up one of the objects as well, curiosity overtaking his annoyance. “What is all of this stuff, anyway?”
Marinette glanced at the miscellaneous objects to check- she had several trunks that acted as ‘junk drawers’ -and immediately cringed when she recognized a black hat with rainbow colors stitched along the bottom.
“Oh..” It was Adrien’s gift chest. She’d almost forgotten that she had it. “They’re, um.. They’re just crafts, really.”
“Just crafts?” Claude repeated, holding up a crocheted Ladybug doll. “These are awesome!”
Marinette watched them for a moment. “...do you want them?”
The group looked up in shock, and Marinette quickly added, “Y-You don’t have to take them! I’ve just.. Uh.. they’re like junk? I mean, not junk, but this is my junk chest.. Sort of. I’ve just been meaning to get rid of them. So if you want them, you can have them.”
Allegra frowned. “Are you sure? It looks like you put a lot of effort into these.”
Marinette nodded. “Positive. Take whatever you want.”
Although hesitant at first, the group continued to look through the gifts, and little by little, they started to take some. A smile came to Marinette’s lips as she watched the pile of Adrien junk dwindle. She had spent a lot of time on making the presents, but there was no way she’d be giving them to Adrien now. So what was the point of keeping them in her room? To serve as a mocking reminder of how blind she had been while loving him? No thanks.
By the time they were done, the chest only had half the gifts it used to, and Marinette quickly decided that she would donate the leftovers once she got the chance.
“Thanks for the stuff, Mari!” Claude said cheerfully, his hands full of various objects.
Allegra nodded, holding a few things herself. “Yeah, you really do spoil us.”
“Which is saying something, considering we’re rich.” Allan teased, pocketing the two items that he’d decided to snatch.
Marinette chuckled. “You’re helping me more than I am you.”
She stood up and walked to the bathroom to grab the boys’ old clothes. “I’m gonna bring these down to Maman, but feel free to look around until I get back.”
The group voiced their agreements, and Marinette climbed down the trapdoor ladder with the pile of clothes in hand, feeling like another weight had been lifted off of her shoulders.
Getting rid of Adrien’s gifts was one more step towards happiness, and she couldn’t wait to keep walking.
~~~~~~
One can tell a lot about a person by their bedroom. How clean they were, whether they were sentimental, which things they found important- a bedroom could quite literally be considered a box in which someone stored their entire personality. That’s why Felix had been anticipating this part of the visit. Someone can be a master manipulator, but their room would always show their true selves. And it only took one look for Felix to know..
Marinette really loved the color pink.
Seriously, she had it everywhere. The walls, the furniture, the carpet- How was she not sick of the color by now? Felix was sick of it, and he’d only been there for about twenty minutes!
Pushing the pink thought aside, he continued poking around her room. Marinette had gone downstairs to pass his clothes off to her mother, so that gave him a bit of time to inspect the space unsupervised. Not that he was planning on doing anything scandalous. It merely gave him the opportunity of observing Marinette’s room on his own terms.
When she told him that her room was up in the attic, he’d been understandably shocked. The attic didn’t sound like a spacious place to sleep, let alone work on homework and other personal things. Seeing it now, though, Felix realized that that wasn’t the case. The attic was actually quite open. There was a desk, a closet, various chests, a bathroom, and she still had a good portion of the room empty. He wondered if that was thanks to the original size of the room or thanks to Marinette’s resourcefulness.
Her cleaning style wasn’t too bad, either. Don’t get him wrong, there were things scattered everywhere, but it was a specific type of scattered, like an organized chaos. He had a feeling that she knew where most of her necessities were.
Felix moved to her desk, where most of the mess was focused. There were papers, sewing needles, scraps of fabric, and pencils spread across the surface. Her interest in fashion certainly shined through, as most of the papers were filled with various sketches and measurements. He found that admirable. When someone usually speaks of their ‘dream job’, they speak of it as a fantasy, one that they never intend to fully pursue, but Marinette was obviously reaching as high as she could to grasp her goal. She even had a mannequin in her room.
“Marinette’s room is so cool!” Claude exclaimed from the loft up top. “She even has a balcony!”
Felix glanced upwards, briefly setting the papers he’d been studying aside. There’s a balcony upstairs? He didn’t recall seeing a balcony on the way in.
“Claude, you have a balcony.” Allegra reminded him with an amused smile.
“Yeah, but mine only extends from the side of the building.” Claude defended. “This one’s on the roof!”
Ah, so that’s why Felix hadn’t seen it.
Allan frowned. “Really? Isn’t that a little dangerous?”
“It’s got a rail.”
“Oh, okay. That’s fine then.”
Allegra chuckled as she brushed her hands against the hat on Marinette’s mannequin. “Marinette’s room is pretty neat, though.”
“I think it’s just Marinette who’s cool.” Allan remarked.
Allegra and Claude heartily agreed, and Felix nodded. “Cool” probably wouldn’t be the exact word that he’d use to describe her, but overall, it wasn’t far off.
“Can you believe we’ve only known her for a week?” Claude asked as he climbed down to their level. “It feels like we’ve known her forever already.”
“Yeah, but I think that’s just how she is.” Allegra smiled. “She draws you in and makes you feel like family.”
“Her parents are the same way.” Allan said. “You can really tell where she gets it from.”
“Where who gets what from?”
Felix, along with the rest of the group, turned to the trapdoor, where Marinette was standing about halfway through. She didn’t have the clothes anymore, but she did have a tray of drinks.
“Oh, it’s nothing.” Allegra said dismissively. “What are those?”
Marinette set the tray on the ground long enough to climb through and close the trapdoor as she explained, “Maman and Papa thought you guys might be thirsty, so she sent me up with a bunch of different drinks to choose from.”
“Sweet!” Claude grinned, swiftly walking over in case she needed help. “Do you have Dr. Pepper?”
Marinette smiled and turned the tray to reveal a deep red can of soda. “Yep! I know it’s your favorite.”
“You truly are a blessing.” Claude replied, grabbing the soda off of the tray.
Marinette giggled and brought the tray forward for the rest of them to pick. Allegra chose a pepsi, while Allan snagged a coke, and Felix grabbed the slim cup of coffee that sat to the side.
He took a sip of it, enjoying the warmth of the bitter liquid. It didn’t escape his notice that Marinette had brought up all of their preferred drinks. She even got his coffee right (Black with three sugars).
Despite how scatter-brained she could be, Marinette still paid attention to details, which was impressive. Felix didn’t know anyone else who could space out during an entire conversation, yet remember the exact type of drink everyone ordered during lunch.
“So what do you guys want to do now? We still have about half an hour before supper is finished.” Marinette asked, setting the tray aside.
Allan shrugged. “What do you have?”
Marinette thought for a moment. “Well, we have board games, card games, Mecha Strike 3-”
“Mecha Strike 3?” Claude perked up. “Yes, please!”
Marinette laughed. “Is everyone else okay with that?”
“Sounds great.” Allan smiled.
Allegra shrugged. “I’m fine with it.”
Felix, being satisfied with his inspection for now, sat down on the chaise. “I’ll watch.”
The rest of the group huddled around Marinette’s computer while she turned it on, and after a bit of debating, they decided on ‘winner faces next player’ and started with Allan and Claude. Felix watched the first two games, just long enough to see Marinette cream Allan, before reverting back to his studious ways. He scanned the bedroom again, hoping to catch something new, when his gaze landed on the trunk that Claude had tipped over earlier. With everyone bustling around it, Felix hadn’t gotten a chance to sift through it, but now that they were occupied with Marinette’s game..
Felix shifted in his seat and re-opened the chest. It was only half full, as opposed to its previously overflowing contents, but that didn’t bother him. There were still plenty of things inside, such as shirts, figurines, hats, and other things. He pulled out a jacket and turned it in his hands, admiring the handiwork. The hood, along with the cuffs of the sleeves and zipper were pitch black, but the rest of the jacket was a deep red, save for the black spots that littered it. “Miraculous” was written on the back in cursive as well. Was this supposed to be based off of the Parisian superhero Ladybug? Why would she want to get rid of this? At the very least, she could make a profit by selling it.
What did she use to make this? The material is so soft.. Felix thought as he unzipped the jacket. It was completely black on the inside, save for some tiny, golden lettering near the section wear the pocket would be.
“To: Adrien
From: Marinette”
Felix frowned. How strange. Why would Marinette be giving away things that she made specifically for someone else? He dug through the chest some more, this time looking for names, and what he found was shocking.
Almost every gift had the name ‘Adrien’ on it somewhere, whether it be a card or stitching or marker. Some gifts didn’t have a name, but at that point, Felix felt it was safe to assume that everything in the chest was supposed to be for this ‘Adrien’ person.
That begged the question, though: Who was Adrien? And why would she create so many gifts for him just to give them away?
A small card stitched on the ear of a stuffed cat gave him his answer.
“Dear Adrien,
Happy 19th birthday! It’s officially been five years since we’ve known each other. Isn’t that crazy? Anyway, I just wanted to say happy birthday (even though I’ve already said it) and that I’m really happy we got to meet. Enjoy the cat!
With all my love, Marinette”
Felix glanced up at Marinette, who was blissfully ignorant of his findings as she defeated Claude for the second time at Mecha Strike 3. Did she intend to use all of these as birthday presents? How many gifts were in there? Did she expect this person to have the same interests twenty years from now? He couldn’t decide if this level of planning was due to over-thinking or just plain obsession. Maybe both.
“Hey, Felix!”
Felix flinched at the sudden call of his name, weirdly feeling as if he’d been caught in the act of some crime. He looked up to see Claude waving a controller at him.
“Are you sure you don’t want to play?” The brunette asked.
“Talk to me when you have chess.” Felix replied shortly, going back to the chest. He had hoped that seeing Marinette’s room would provide more answers to her life, but it only issued more questions. Did she have this amount of gifts for all of her friends or was Adrien special? If he was special, what way would it be? Was he possibly an ex-lover? She dated him for a while, and they had a recent falling out, which was why she was getting rid of the gifts. That would make sense.
“He just wants to talk.”
Her words from last week resurfaced in his mind. The person who chased her that day was the only one she reacted bitterly towards. Was Adrien trying to get back together with her?
Was he the reason she left her old school in the first place?
My, my Dupain-Cheng. Felix thought. Aren’t you just full of secrets?
Tag List: @artbyknigit @athena452 @nickristus-dreamer @throneoffirebreathingbitchqueen @arsaem @abrx2002 @neakco @pawsitivelymiraculous @too0bsessedformyowngood @nathleigh @lusicing @officiallydarkgeek @all-mights-asscheeks @tbehartoo @woe-is-me0 @raeuberprinzessin @lazuli-11 @miss-chaos27 @trippingovermyfeet @sadpotatoondrugs @ladybug-182 @jaggedheart11 @marinahrasauce
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“What are you doing up?”
Author’s note: How is this man REAL? I still don’t understand how God could have ever created someone so beautiful...
Anyway, I hope you enjoy it!
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WORD COUNT: 3.8K
italics are flashbacks!
The warm-toned colors of sunrise filtered through the tall, windows leading out to the balcony. The reflection of the sun against the ocean illuminated their quiet bedroom. They had forgotten to shut the blinds and pull down the blackout of the room. Hence, why Y/N’s face was completely exposed to the soft afternoon light. Consequently, waking her up from her slumber.
Y/N’s eyes fluttered open as she processed her surroundings and woke the rest of her body. She covered her mouth as she yawned and stretched out her back and limps. She rolled over, facing upwards as her hands pushed her hair out of the way. She admired the beautiful and probably very expensive chandelier that hung from the ceiling. She hasn't noticed it before, but how could she? The last forty-eight hours had been hectic and all over the place but incredibly dreamy.
She was still flushed when she had arrived home that afternoon. Her hair was still slightly damp even though her work out had ended forty minutes ago. She had stopped for groceries because her boyfriend was coming back from an extensive work trip. Y/N had planned to cook his favorite meal and cozy up on the couch while he reminisced about the trip. Her plan was short-lived when she opened the door of her apartment and found him waiting for her by the entrance.
She immediately dropped the bags by the entrance and threw her body on his. Her arms instinctively wrapped around his neck, not even flinching at the loud sound of her sunglasses hitting the hardwood floor.
”yeh miss me, lovey?” Harry’s big smile splattered on his face, the same smile that she has always praised and adored since the very first day. She squeezed his cheeks while peppering kisses all over his face after a long waited passionate kiss.
”This is ticklish” Y/N referred to the stubble that he had grown since he had felt. ”How do you manage to make everything attractive?” She mumbles as Harry stares down at her with adoration.
”I could ask you the same, love” His own hands running down the sides of her tight workout clothes. ”I’ve missed you so much” He had grown accustomed to sleeping next to her; touring and sleeping in different hotel rooms on his own — had become a challenge. He hated it, but he loved it too. He loved that he had become so attached to her that he missed her presence. He didn't have to touch her. Harry missed the faint smell of her Chanel perfume scattered on the pillows and comforter. He just liked knowing that was beside him and close by. It brought him serenity.
“Me too” On the other hand, she had missed hearing him hum and sing in the shower. She had missed waking up to him in the kitchen, making fresh coffee, in a white towel, barefoot with wet hair. ”Are you hungry?” Y/N asked remembering the whole reason why she hadn't been home earlier. She pulled away to go pick up the bags by the entrance.
”I am” Harry stands back and watches her bent down, taking his time to admire her body and appearance. ”Have you been doing squats or something?” he bluntly asks after noticing her bottom looked rounder than last time. Y/N giggled and shook her head before standing straight back up.
”Nothing gets past you, does it?”
”at least nothing that has to do with you” He took the bags from her before she could take any further steps. ”you didn't answer my question” Harry yelled back from the kitchen while she locked the front door.
”I am. Just wanted it to be nicer” She shrugged as she walked into the kitchen and found him taking the groceries out of the bags. She also had read a few comments on an Instagram profile that posted about celebrity couples. They picked her apart and criticized every single inch of her body. She had felt pretty shitty for a few days, but she would never tell Harry. After all, she knew that she wasn’t supposed to be reading comments. Harry had always warned her.
”Trust me. It was already nice,” he added. There he was again, uplifting her and making her feel flawless. It has been two years since they met at an event in Los Angeles through mutual friends and she still didn't get used to cheeky yet sweet comments.
”How was LA?” The night they met, Y/N had just gone for a drink after being pressured by her friend. It was a party at a small intimate bar with a bunch of celebrities. To this day, she still doesn't know what the party was celebrating.
”It was fine. I saw a few of our friends. They asked about you” As a matter of fact, they seemed slightly disappointed that she wasn’t accompanying him. His friends preferred her, but he didn’t care. He also preferred her. Harry was the first to approach the night they first met. After seeing her standing by the bar looking lonely. One of his terrible jokes was enough to break the ice and cause her to smile.
”I guess I'll have to visit more often” She liked traveling with Harry, but the tour was just around the corner. Therefore, she needed to straighten everything out before departing. “I was thinking of making your favorite meal” Harry looked up to her, biting his lips with a slight frown. ”What?”.
”Change of plans. You are going to go upstairs and pack a bag” He ordered her as he rested his elbows on the kitchen counter. Then it was Y/N’s turn to frown.
”A bag? For what? What do I pack? Where are we going? You just got here,” She bombarded him with questions. Harry very mischievously, shrugged then leaned over to grab one of the fresh bananas that she had just bought.
”Can’t tell you, lovey. Just go change and pack” He had it all planned. He had started to come up with it before he left for America. He had to move a lot of pieces around for it to work without drawing any suspicion to his master plan. His trip to LA had given him more time to work on the minor details without being questioned.
”What should I pack?” She was surprised at the abrupt change of plans, but Harry never disappointed. Therefore, she trusted him and would comply.
”Your everyday clothes and bathing suits, maybe a dress” His bag was already packed; his assistant had made sure of it. He usually packed his clothes, but because of the short time frame that they had, they didn't want to take any risks. ”do I have to carry yeh?” Harry asked since she still hadn't moved.
”No!” She giggled as he took a warning step towards her. ”I’ll be right back” Harry smiled after her, while she packed he took the time to make himself something quick to eat since he was starving.
Harry was surprisingly still sleeping. His lips slightly parted as soft snores escaped his mouth now and then. His tattooed arm hung over her waist. His head tucked in the back of her neck, his tattooed chest pressed against her back, radiating heat like an oven. It explained the reason why she only wore underwear to sleep. At some point in their relationship, she had started waking up with a thin layer of sweat covering her body. It was Harry who had suggested her change of sleeping attire after he refused to stop cuddling her.
Y/N gently took his arm off her body making sure she didn’t disrupt his sleep. Along with the tour, press, interviews, and shows came his anxiety and sleep deprivation. He always managed to hide it, but she knew that he struggled. Therefore, the fact that she had woken up before him was a pleasant surprise and that she wasn’t willing to ruin.
She was quick to observe that she could do some minutes under the sun as she stood before the bathroom’s mirror. Y/N twisted her body sideways just to get a better look at her physique. Harry’s fingers mark printed all over her thighs, as well as the scattered hickeys on her chest, were a reminder of their night. She reached back and grabbed a bathrobe off the hook to hide her nakedness.
“Are you excited?” He asked her as he opened the trunk of the rental car that they would use for the entire trip. He still had a few surprises under his sleeve, he was just waiting for the right time to reveal the rest.
On the other hand, Y/N couldn’t stop smiling, her cheeks had started hurting minutes after he had revealed the destination of their spontaneous trip.
“Are you kidding?” She squeaked as she watched his muscles tense up under the shirt that he had opted to wear. Harry chuckled as he strategically placed her suitcase first in the trunk. He had rented out a convertible which he sort of regretted now, due to the lack of space. “What brought this on?”.
“I just thought it would be nice. We haven’t spent as much time as I would’ve liked to” He added a shrug as he took his duffle bag from her and squeezing it in before shutting it close. “My work has gotten in the way of many things” She instantly knew what specific occasion he was referring too. Harry had missed her master’s graduation in child psychology a few weeks ago. Her mom had Facetimed him when her name was called and he had seen her disappointment throughout the rest of the night. He had tried his best to catch a flight to make it in time, but his work commitments had gotten in the way.
“Harry Edward Styles” Y/N wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned against the side of the car. She gently gripped his jaw, forcing his sight on hers. “Stop beating yourself over it” Sure, she had felt lonely that night without him by her side, but she could never blame him. “I love every single bit of you and everything that comes along. Including your work because that means I get to hear and watch you do what you love the most” The corners of his lips curved upwards, revealing his dimples. She kissed them gently after her eyes drifted down to them.
“I love you the most” Harry whispered with his eyes slightly hooded, enamored by the words that had just come out of her enticing mouth. He gave her a quick yet breathless kiss just in case reporters were watching them.
It was the perfect day in Italy. The sun shone brightly, high in the sky. There were no clouds threatening the day with any signs of rain. The streets were crowded with tourists and locals. At first, Harry resisted the urge to pull the top of the car down since they were still in the center of Rome. The last thing he wanted was to get recognized and mobbed on his Italian vacation with the love of his life. He had made arrangements for his most trusted bodyguard to travel with them. Harry wanted to keep everything as intimate as possible. He had done it before when he had traveled to Jamaica and Japan. Therefore why couldn't he do it again this time around — he wondered.
“Where are we going?” Y/N asked as she noticed that the scenery had changed and it seemed more rural. Harry winked at her at night before pushing on the gas. “We aren’t staying in Rome, are we?”.
“Of course not” He kept a smirk on his face as he pulled the top of the car off as soon as they were out of the city.
She couldn’t help but stare at the gorgeous and sweet man that she had grown to love unconditionally. His silky, dark brown hair like grass in the wind. She could stare for hours his chiseled face. His prominent and clenched jawline seemed to be sculped by Greek gods. The slight stubble that he had grown on his chin and upper lip gave him a more carefree and relaxed complexion. She left slightly disappointed that his gorgeous eyes were blocked by his classic, Gucci sunglasses.
“Yeh staring again, darlin” His rough voice, didn’t stop her from admiring him. She unbuckled herself from her seat then leaned in and planted a kiss against his tan skin. “I love you” Harry momentarily looked over at her before looking back at the road.
“Goodmorning” Y/N whispered as she opened the door wider for the hotel employer to bring the room service that she had ordered only minutes ago.
“Good morning, Ms. Y/L/N” He smiled at the young woman before rolling in the table, filled with different breakfast foods and drinks. “Is here alright? Or would you like by the balcony?”. He suggested knowing that tourists loved having their first meal of the day with the view.
“The balcony sounds lovely — if it’s not too much to ask” She felt slightly guilty to make him set up outside.
“It would be my pleasure” Y/N quickly walked behind him as he pushed the car pass the entrance hall and living room of their hotel room. He kept his head up making sure not to knock anything or the floor or make a mess. He stopped right by the entrance to the balcony and carefully stared setting up the table. The young man had obviously heard that Harry Styles and his girlfriend were staying on the top floor. He hadn’t played too much attention to it like the rest of his work colleagues. If Harry Styles was in fact staying with them was because he wanted privacy, peace, and quiet— away from the spotlight and the fans. He was not going to mess it up. For this particular reason, he was picked out of the bunch to bring their breakfast when his girlfriend had called. “You are all set up Ms. Y/L/N”.
“Thank you…” Y/N looked down as his name tag then gave him a big smile, “...Luca’
“buon appetito” He smiled back as he started walking his way back to the entrance.
“Luca, what’s the best thing to do around here besides going to the beach?” They had wanted to do something out of the ordinary. The town where they were staying was pretty small which meant they could easily walk the streets and actually get to experience the Italian culture.
“You can visit the gardens,” He said after a few minutes of thinking. “Do you like cooking?” Y/N instantly perked up, nodding with a big smile. “Then you can take a cooking class. I could set it up for you, just give us a call downstairs and I’ll take care of it”.
“That sounds lovely. Thank you Luca” Y/N made sure to tip him before he left her alone in the hotel room. She sat outside, wrapped in the bathrobe, holding a fresh cup of coffee to her lips while staring out into the Almifi coast. Everything looked just as beautiful as last night.
“Are you ready?” Harry asked as he walked to the small balcony that they had in their bedroom. They had arrived four hours ago to their final destination. They had immediately changed into bathing suits and made use of their private pool. They ditched the pool as they started noticing the commence of the sunset. The couple decided to take on the streets of the small town for dinner. Ravello is a small town off the Almafi Coast. It is a hidden treasure with one of the best views of the ocean. It was perfect for their stay.
“Like twenty minutes ago” She wore a short, silky, olive dress with a pair of white sneakers — too lazy to walk on heels through the rocky, inclined streets of Revello. The thin straps of her dress weren’t wide enough to hide the slight tan lines that she had to manage to obtain with only a few hours under the sun. Harry loved seeing tan lines on her delicate skin. He hated it when she refused to get them by untying the back of her bikini. The olive tone of her dress made her skin more tempting.
“I am starving” he pouted as she intertwined their fingers.
“What are you craving?” They had to make a tough choice to make —both being lovers of Italian cuisine.
“Everything” He chuckled as they walked out of their suite. “I am thinking pasta”.
“I don’t know. Pizza sounds so good” Harry groans at the through of an authentic slice of Italian pizza.
“I hope you know that we are sharing tonight. I am having some of your pizza”.
“Absolutely not,” Y/N said as they got on the elevator.
“Yeh are such a meanie” Harry pouted once again before the doors close.
-
“Fuck I am stuffed” Harry exhales as he leans back on his seat. Y/N giggled as she tried to digest all the food that they had just stuffed their faces with. “But it was so worth it” He beams after wiping the corners of his mouth with the napkin. The night had gone according to plan. They had talked for hours as if they didn’t know one another. No one had recognized him except for the waiter who was a bit starstruck, but either way, respected their privacy.
“I think you are going to have to carry me back” She reached down and patted the small tummy that she had developed in the course of dinner. Her dress felt tight against her skin. She was sure that one more bite of food would tear her dress apart. Harry laughed softly at her cute tummy.
“Let’s go for a walk. It might help us” He was tempted to unbutton his high waisted pants. He was first on his feet, then reached out for her.
“That was delicious. Thank you, baby” She kissed him as they made their way down the street towards their hotel. She couldn’t wait to fall asleep by the sound of the waves crashing by the shore. It was all so soothing. Harry wrapped his arm over her shoulders as they made their way through the town square.
“There is something I would like us to talk about” Harry confessed as they came across the entrance to the public beach. “Should we walk on the beach?” As her mind wondered what he could possibly be wanting to talk about, Harry kneeled down and helped take her sneakers off after his shoes.
The sand was still slightly warm from the day. They walked right by the water, close enough to slightly wet their feet, but far enough not get bite by anything in the darkness. There was always something very eerie of the never-ending darkness of the ocean. It seemed scary yet mysterious.
“Are you breaking up with me?” Y/N blurted out as she stopped walking after a few minutes of complete quietness. She could sense something was bothering him. Harry unwrapped himself away from her and faced her. Momentarily making her scared that he was actually ending things.
“How could you possibly think that?” He frowned, “Do you remember that night in Japan?” It took her a few minutes to finally figure out what particular night he was talking about. He had gone to Japan two months ago to finish off a song. She had stayed in England after getting a ridiculous virus from a coworker.
“Yeah— what about it?” Harry exhaled as he thought of that night.
“You stayed up with me. You had a high fever” He had been stuck in the studio for hours and had decided to Facetime her. He had started to feel the pressure of writing an impeccable album for the fans. Harry felt like he was cracking under pressure. According to him, all the music was starting to sound like shit. He wanted to check on her, but also get distracted.
“Well yeah. You needed me. You weren’t feeling well” She shrugged as if it was no big deal. He smiled widely at her, shaking his head at her obliviousness. “I don’t get it” Y/N giggled pulling at her bottom lip with her head slightly tilted to the side.
“You still don’t see it!” He exhaled, running his hands through his hair. “You were the one sick and you are so selfless that you stayed up with me just because I wasn’t feeling like emotionally well. Even though you were the one with a fever” He sighted trying to gather all his thoughts at once. “Everything with you, it’s so easy. I miss you all the time. I hate leaving you alone and I especially hate that you still haven’t moved in with me. I’ve also never been such a jealous man as I am now. I can’t stand the thought of someone else holding you, looking at you, let alone kissing you,” He looked up at her trying to decipher her emotions. “You never hung up that night after you fell asleep. I stayed with you on the phone. That was the night that I realized that what I have with you, I don’t want it with anyone else” His hand reached back and pulled the small box from his pocket. He kneeled down before she could say or have any sort of reaction to his proposal. “Would you marry me, lovey?”.
--
“What are you doing up?” Harry’s raspy voice, almost causes her to spill the cup of hot coffee over her white bathrobe. He leaned over her and gave her a minty fresh kiss. “I woke up and you weren’t there” He added after sitting across from her.
“I thought you would like to wake up to some breakfast” Harry smiled as he uncovered his plate of freshly made food. She had of course ordered his favorite.
“What with the Italian sun on you, that makes you so irresistible?” Harry asked as he spreads jelly on his toasts. It was his turn to gawk at her. She hadn’t properly tied her bathtub around. Therefore it was slipping off one of her shoulders, showing him the collarbones that he loved kissing. Her lips were slightly swollen and a few freckles had appeared from the sunbathing session from yesterday.
“Stop” She laughed as she placed her coffee mug on the table. Harry took a few bites off his toast before taking a sip out of his tea with a constant smug smile.
“Last night when you were ridding me, only wearing the ring — it was a sight to behold” He added knowing exactly how to make her blush.
“Harry!” Y/N exclaimed as she covered her flushed face with her hands. Harry erupted into heavy laughter as he stared at the woman that he would soon be marrying with love from across the table.
----
HOPE YOU LIKED IT!
#harrystyles#harry styles#harry#harry styles imagine#harry styles imagines#harry imagine#harry imagines#harry styles fanfic#harry styles fanfiction#harry fanfic#harry fanfiction#harry fluff#harry angst#harry styles fluff#harry styles angst#harry styles blurb#harry blurb#harry x you#harry x reader#harry x y/n#harry styles x you#harry styles x reader#harry styles x y/n#one direction fanfic#one direction fanfiction
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For Yelenat, I’ve been thinking about Natasha buying clothes for Yelena and coming up with outfits for her to wear that may or may not match her tastes or sense of style but Yelena wearing them all anyway because it’s hot to give up control of her wardrobe to Natasha.
When, on occasion, the two of them had a brief respite from the action, from the saving of people’s lives, Yelena liked to take Natasha shopping with her.
Though it had been over six months since she’d broken free of Dreykov’s mind control and helped Natasha take down the Red Room, Yelena still seemed just as enamored with the idea of buying herself clothes as that first day, when she’d purchased her favorite vest (which she still wore, quite often, on missions).
Natasha didn’t mind being dragged along, though. Not really. Deep down, she was happy to spend time with Yelena, regardless of what they were doing, and it helped that they were doing something that always put that sunshiny smile on Yelena’s face. Seeing it made something warm blossom in Natasha’s chest, something she hadn’t often let herself feel before. Something like home, and like family. Natasha was content to come along with Yelena, stand nearby and look on while the younger Widow gleefully browsed through clothing and occasionally asked for Natasha’s opinion (although to Natasha, everything looked good when Yelena was wearing it, so her input wasn’t often useful).
Until one day, Natasha got tired of just watching.
“Let me pick something out for you this time,” she said abruptly, just as they were walking into a modestly sized boutique, causing Yelena to shoot her a confused look.
“You don’t like shopping,” she said, confusion knitting across her brow.
“Mm. For myself,” Natasha conceded. “But this is different.”
Yelena cocked her head, thought about it for a moment.
“Alright, why not?”
Yelena retreated to the corner of the store and assumed Natasha’s usual role as she watched Natasha browse through the clothing. It wasn’t that Natasha disliked the way Yelena dressed herself usually, exactly. It was just that Yelena’s taste in clothing was a bit… unrefined (and maybe part of it was the way Yelena would often strut around in cropped shirts and chokers and cause jealousy to seethe under Natasha’s skin, reluctant as she was to admit it to herself).
Natasha moved towards the back of the shop, still searching for something suitable for Yelena. She was beginning to lose hope that she’d find something at that particular store, until she shoved some flower-print covered dresses aside to reveal exactly what she’d been looking for: a peach colored pantsuit. She grabbed a nice white shirt to go with it, then returned to where Yelena was waiting.
Yelena glanced up and immediately wrinkled her nose when she saw what Natasha had picked out.
“Seriously?” she asked, raising an eyebrow. “Do I have to?”
Natasha rolled her eyes. She’d expected as much from the younger woman.
“Come on. For me? Just try it on,” Natasha insisted. “Indulge me.”
Yelena’s cheeks turned a bright pink at Natasha’s words, and she gave in, nodding quickly and retreating to the changing room near the back of the store. Natasha followed her and lingered around outside of it, trying to ignore how her heart was hammering over the thought of Yelena changing into something she had picked out for her. “Nat!” came Yelena’s voice, a harsh, sudden whisper. Natasha heard the dressing room door unlock, and she took it as an invitation to enter. Yelena was standing there in the pantsuit, her complexion flushed and a pout on her face.
“I look ridiculous,” she complained, turning to look at herself in the mirror again. Natasha, who had found herself at a loss for words, captivated by the way Yelena’s figure filled out the pantsuit and the way it accentuated the curves of her hips and ass, moved in behind her, running her hands up Yelena’s arms to settle on her shoulders.
“No,” Natasha said eventually, her tone serious, assertive. “You look beautiful.”
Yelena’s chest puffed up a bit, studying herself in the mirror some more.
“Well. If you say so, I guess it’s a keeper.”
(She wore the pantsuit out of the store, and kept it on for the rest of the day.)
———————————————
After that, after Natasha got a taste of what it felt like to see Yelena dressed up for her, well. It was hard to deny herself more of the same.
Natasha found that she couldn’t wait until the next time they had time to make a detour to a store. Instead, she stayed up until 3 A.M. one night, browsing the internet for the perfect outfit to gift Yelena next. Once it arrived at their temporary base a few days later, she wrapped it up in a box with a red bow and brought it to Yelena’s room, knocking twice on the door. Yelena opened it moments later, looking happy to see her sister.
Natasha held out the gift box.
“For you,” she said. Yelena took it, examining it curiously before she undid the bow and pulled the top off. Inside, folded up, was a black, tailored suit with a lilac vest, made to order just for Yelena. Yelena took it out, holding it up in awe.
“This is… really nice, Natasha,” she said incredulously. Natasha gave a sharp jerk of her head.
“Put it on. Dress up for me,” she told Yelena, her voice low and unwavering. She watched as a flush crept up Yelena’s chest. Yelena nodded and slipped into the bathroom to change. Again, Natasha’s heart hammered as she waited. She could no longer deny to herself that she loved the feeling of being in charge of Yelena’s wardrobe. To Natasha, it was like branding her, like putting a neon sign above her head that read, “property of Natasha.” It felt good.
The bathroom door clicked and Natasha’s head shot up. Yelena stepped out, and the suit looked even better on her than Natasha had hoped. She was fidgeting with the bottom of the vest, looking put on the spot, as Natasha’s eyes roamed over her body, drinking in every crease, every curve, every pinch of fabric. Natasha walked towards Yelena, taking her hands once she was within range.
“You look perfect,” Natasha said lowly, drawing close to Yelena as she spoke, her breath ghosting over Yelena’s lips. Yelena swallowed visibly.
“I think I could get used to this,” Yelena confessed. “You know. Letting you pick my outfits.”
The corner of Natasha’s mouth quirked upwards in a lopsided grin.
“You’d better.”
#yelenat#yelena belova#natasha romanoff#yelena x natasha#black widow#marvel cinematic universe#request#alsjdfjk i hope you like this!
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All right, since I’m in the middle of a flare and have to work manual labor for the next four days despite it, I figured I would make myself -- and hopefully other people -- laugh by talking about one of my favorite OG Captain Marvel stories. Namely, from Whiz #50, with a cover date of January, 1944, meaning it was probably produced sometime in late 1943.
I want to share it because why not, this is some absurdly charming stuff.
I’ll get more into why it’s one of my favorites as we go, in the form of running commentary. So, full story (with said commentary) under the cut. If you wanna just read the story without my commentary, stick to the pictures. XD
First, let me say that the cover and splash page definitely live up to the story, though the cover’s a bit more sensationalized. But the premise is pretty damn simple: Our intrepid hero and his newsboy alter ego are on vacation. Cap decides to go swimming. It goes hilariously wrong and thus ensues a bit of a madcap adventure, no puns intended.
Second, the fact that Cap and Billy are depicted as essentially different entities makes what Billy does next the ultimate trolling:
Gee, airing out the stolen laundry on the radio? Really? I’ll leave it up to you, gentle reader, whether Billy actually was trolling his own alter-ego for ratings or whether he was just innocently sharing the story while his other-self winced quietly in whatever ether-space he exists in when not front-and-center.
Either way, I love it.
Continuing on...
I get a kick out of the fact that Billy’s monologue is that he’s no dare-devil. One, because that’s so obviously not true in any way -- (that kid is awesomely, sometimes recklessly brave on the regular even without Cap) -- but two, because the bridge is actually named Dare-Devil Bridge. We aren’t given any reason why this dangerous potential death-trap is there, hanging without so much as a gate or a warning sign or anything, because we don’t need one. It’s there specifically for what happens next.
Which, of course, is Billy calling in Captain Marvel, who does some light complaining about the situation Billy left him in. There’s no bite to it, which I find adorable -- Cap actually does get frustrated once or twice in other issues with Billy calling on him for mundane stuff, though he’s never mean about it -- but there is a bit of the sense of being put-upon there that’s just-- I dunno, cute. It’s something I miss a lot in the various post-crisis takes on the character: That duality, that difference in personality, and the way each of them responds to different situations. Often, they’re on the same page, but notably, sometimes, they aren’t.
Someday, I promise, I need to sit down and write how I think that works between those two without being a truly frightening mental illness manifested, what with them being the same person but not the same person. Because I have so many ideas, and I’ve only had since the early-2000s to percolate them. LOL! But until then, just enjoy this.
Here is another reason why I love the Golden Age Captain Marvel books and why I love this specific story: This is an absolutely normal, mundane thing to do. It’s the human thing to do. These aren’t the actions of some super-serious superdude. These are the actions of a pretty shockingly normal guy doing something mundane. And a whole story is built around that normalcy.
It’s cute. It’s funny. It’s the reader already knowing that he’s getting himself into a situation that he absolutely could have avoided, but also completely understanding how it happened anyway. It’s pretty brilliant writing: I say this as a pretty damned good writer myself.
So much of the reason why, I think, Cap was so endearing as a hero is that humanity. He’s got pretty much god-tier power in the Golden Age, once his powerset is established. He’s utterly invulnerable to all physical harm while powered up. But-- he’s human. He knows he’s human. He acts like it, and decides, “You know what? I’m going skinny-dipping.”
He and Billy are both characters it’s so easy to empathize with.
Also, a reminder that the art under Chief Artist C.C. Beck is really, really good. (He had a whole stable of artists to help produce this stuff!) Ignoring registration issues on the printing press, the actual line art is amazingly good; proportion and perspective and consistency.
But anyway--Cap does get to enjoy his swim. But, then, oh no.
I love the idea of a world where the prime hero -- and he definitely is in that world -- can take off his suit and go swimming, and where someone else is bold enough to steal the damn suit off of him. The first time I read this, I started laughing here. Not at him, but at the situation he’s found himself in. At the idea that some random passer-by saw Captain Marvel’s costume and went yoink!
Another thing I love about this particular story is how much Cap and Billy have to work together, just by necessity. Like-- it’s just really good. But anyway, thank everything Billy Batson is on the ball, coming to the rescue.
Sheer bad luck via the weather keeps this story rolling along in hilarious misdirections. Realistically, that uniform probably wouldn’t be all buttoned together (we see Cap take off pieces of it aside the pants in other issues, including socks!), but who cares? The point of the story is that giant bear rug on the floor’s gonna get put to use.
Man, when have you ever seen Superman creeping naked through some stranger’s house wearing nothing but a random polar bear because he went skinny dipping? No wonder these comics sold so well. This next panel is when I start wheezing, though, and pretty much keep wheezing.
“A lady, too! I’ve got to get away from here!”
I’m dying at this point. That’s such a characteristic response, and yet, I think that’s why it’s funny.
Anyway, because this is an excellent story (I mean this without an ounce of irony, too), our dynamic duo stumbles across a plot in play to rob the hotel they’re staying at.
Here’s a big part of why this is such a good tale: Everything fits. Even when it isn’t explained, like Dare-Devil Bridge, it still fits. Why is the tree down? Because there was just a thunder storm, the same one that blew Cap’s suit into the room with the gangsters.
I don’t know if this is Otto Binder’s story, but I wouldn’t be surprised in the least. It’s a complete story told in relatively few pages that accomplishes everything it’s meant to.
Anyway, using foliage as cover, Cap gets to be heroic----then Billy gets to get back to the business of trying to stop the robbery of the hotel and get his heroic alter-ego dressed again. Which leads to a rather adorable and funny scene of Billy not only trying to describe what Captain Marvel wears, but what size it would need to be tailored in.
(Cap is supposedly a 44 for a suit coat, we find in some earlier appearance, which would refer to his chest size. So, an XL for shirts and suit-coats. He’s a big guy, but he’s actually not a hulking huge guy. But more on that later.)
I love the fact Billy tries to like-- use himself as a model. Maybe in another ten years, kiddo. Billy’s actually pretty buff for like a 12-14 year old, he’s not a scrawny kid at this point, but yeah, no. LOL!
Another thing I also really, really love about this style, though, is that they draw Captain Marvel as being strong, as having a powerful build-- but not as a dehydrated body-builder with deep cuts. He’s got human proportions, regardless of his strength; he’s got a human build, not a superhuman one.
C.C. Beck had a lot of things to say about superheroes who were just muscles on top of muscles, all clearly defined, and he didn’t like it. As someone who first got into comics in the early 90s with Jim Lee’s X-Men--
I do get Beck’s point. I not only get it, but I really highly approve of it. He maintained to the end that he drew (and oversaw) the Marvel family to look like high school and college athletes, and I can see that. I think the one person who’s gotten it right in the modern era is Evan “Doc” Shaner, who did Convergence: Shazam! He not only nailed that strong-but-not-hulking build for Cap, but also how young he looked. College-age, in fact.
But anyway, enough digression into art and why I like this better than most modern takes on the character. Also, that’s just a cute set of panels.
I also like that there wasn’t an easy fix there. Cap’s still in his not-birthday suit, and Billy’s still stuck running around trying to solve the issues at hand. Next comes some other really good panels:
-snorts- He’s locked in. Yeah, that’ll hold him.
Anyway, what I really liked here was again that tandem working; Billy can’t punch through a wall, but Cap can. Cap can’t crawl out while he’s au natural -- well, he could, but he’d probably rather die first -- but Billy’s got no such issue. It’s just fun when you get to see them doing something like that. You have to really think for a minute about the trust each of them must have in their alter-ego.
ANYWAY, we get the rare treat then--
--of Captain Marvel not only yoinking a dude into a dark room, but then stealing his clothes. Except, not his underwear. Because that’s nasty. LOL!
I love that in this series, you do actually get to see him wear other stuff. Go incognito. Get his red suit messed up enough to take it to a dry cleaner’s, wherein he ends up dressed like a musketeer after. Jerry Ordway’s series is, I think, the only other time we see Cap not wearing his famous suit, but it happened enough in the Golden Age that it wasn’t a shock.
Like, I hate to be the one to say this, but I do think DC drops the ball often on just how much you can do with Captain Marvel (or Shazam, depending on timeline, but that’s the wizard’s name to me so mostly I’ll stick with the original name) if you unbend enough to. It’s not just the costume change, or the duality of him and Billy being the same but not, but also his inherent, essential humanity.
But I am digressing again, sorry. XD I just feel strongly enough about these versions of these characters to spend hours writing this.
Anyway, only a single panel later:
And that’s that! Billy Batson has just outed his own alter-ego’s most embarrassing moment to whomever’s listening to WHIZ radio -- thank everything podcasts and the internet weren’t available then, ha! -- and we get to see a recounting of a very fun story.
Like I said earlier, I love this one for its essential humanity. The hero got himself into this mess, he and Billy got him out of this mess, and stopping the criminals was actually just kind of a lucky stroke thrown in there. But even though Cap got himself into this, the story never treats him like he’s stupid. It never treats him like he’s some kind of idiot. You’re laughing, but-- not in a mean way.
I love how human it is. How complete it is. How genuinely funny it is. It’s a thousand times more funny when you genuinely love and respect Captain Marvel and Billy Batson, too.
Anyway, I hope you enjoyed this dissertation on a skinny-dipping hero. LOL! I enjoyed sharing it with you.
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unforeseen circumstances [ 1 ]
pairing : porco galliard / fem reader
word count : 4.3k
tags : porn w plot, angsty lol, porn w feelings, doomed love
warnings : nsfw
summary : at first it had been necessary, a consequence of getting more and more information out of your target, but now you realize that the time spent with him had developed into a bond that was undeniably something more.
— originally posted 12 / 29 / 20 on ao3 —
intercept, infiltrate, escape.
that was the mantra you'd been repeating over and over again in your head for days. your squad was counting on you—paradis was counting on you—to do your absolute best out on the field, behind enemy lines. and you would definitely say that you had been doing well. you'd picked out your target just fine, maintained your cover effortlessly, gathered a hefty amount of intel that would mark your mission as a success when you delivered everything the commander back home.
in the same vein, you could admit, there had been a few hiccups here and there; a couple slips of the tongue that would've spelt certain defeat if you weren't so good at lying through your teeth, accidentally doing things that weren't in character of a diplomat's daughter, mostly small mistakes, nothing that wasn't easily rectifiable.
but, what was happening right now had to be the biggest hiccup of them all.
your hands were tangled in the thick mess of blonde hair, mussing it out of its usual brushed back style, lips moving fervently over his as you arched off the bed to press your body closer to him. you'd found that kissing him always left you breathless, thrumming with warmth and only wanting more. it was no different this time around when he pulled away, your chest heaving like you'd just run a mile as he pressed a messy line of kisses down your cheek and jaw.
"do you really have to go home after tomorrow, princess?" he murmured between pecks, hands beginning to work on unbuttoning your shirt.
"i told you i'm a countess, not a princess." you giggled, tugging your arms free from the sleeves and replacing your hands in his hair, "there's a difference, you know?"
"countess, princess, whatever, royalty all the same." he mused, giving a soft nip to your shoulder, "can't you ask your father to leave you here with me just a little longer?"
your face flushed at that, feeling a flutter in your heart at his earnest words rather than his impatient hands. it was those little requests, playfully delivered but nonetheless inviting you to really stay in liberio even if for just a day more, that reminded you of the weight of your duty. a small pang cut through the fog of arousal, your fingers tightening their grasp the slightest bit, guilt bubbling up behind the light airiness in your chest.
"you know i would if i could, porco." you replied softly, "but i've got business back home. my family's counting me for a lot of things."
and you weren't lying when you said that. you did have business and family back home, there was so many things that had to be done, and the only chance you had to get back home with the rest of your squad was tomorrow night, leaving this as the final evening you'd probably ever get spend with him like this. you tried not to think about those complicated details, but he made it easy to focus on him as his hands squeezed your breasts, rolling his thumbs over your nipples through the padded fabric of your bra.
"then i'll just have to make sure you remember me, huh?" you could feel him smirking against your skin, "give you plenty of reasons to come back real soon."
you let out a heated sigh at the feeling of him sucking at the crook of your neck, thighs clenching unconsciously from the low pulse of arousal stirring between your legs. you could tell that there was going to be a bruise in the morning, already hearing connie's vehement protests and sasha's prying questions in your head. screwing the enemy once was already bad enough, but this was now the fourth day he'd managed to get you in his bed.
this first night could've been excusable, seeing as you were both quite drunk after a carefree tour of the city, courtesy of him and his overconfidence, despite you knowing every nook and cranny of liberio from your time spent tracking his comrades' schedules. but you couldn't help feeling drawn back to him, and under the flimsy excuse of being able to get more information by being in his dorm, you had ended up back in his room within the next few nights as well. you technically did get a bit of work done, rifling through his belongings when he ventured downstairs to get you both a cup of coffee, but there was nothing of substances to be found besides some explicit magazines under the bed and a picture of his older brother tucked away deep in the drawers of his desk.
you knew you shouldn't get attached to him, you knew that you should just write these evening ventures off as meaningless sex to drive away the homesickness that had begun to set in. but you'd started to find yourself wanting to be around him more and more even before that first night, missing his scent of faint cologne that you could only smell when he held you close to him, memorizing everything from the flustered smile that broke out across his face when you'd kiss his cheek to the fuck-drunk grin you saw from your side of his bed the first time you'd slept with him. sure, he was arrogant and standoffish on the surface, but under that exterior there was so much more, more than you could ever hope to discover in the last twenty-four hours you had left in your stay. so you decided to let him bring you back here again, not even feigning protest when you both fell back into the comfort of his messy sheets and made out like two teenagers after their first date.
you could feel his hands trying to work their way under you, prompting you to arch your back off the bed so he could unclasp your bra. you gave a soft whimper when his teeth grazed over the fresh bruise, letting your eyes fall shut as he lavished your neck and shoulder with teasing, half-pressured bites and firm kisses. his fingers rolled your nipples between them, clearly relishing in the tiny whines and moans of his name that each pinch earned him. he turned out to be much more generous in bed than you'd first anticipated, always giving and giving without any expectation for something in return, seemingly content with just watching you fall apart in his hands, something which he made so ridiculously easy to do.
the moon outside cast a silvery glow through the window, illuminated his figure above you and making the more blonde locks of his hair glow golden. you let your hips roll up to meet his, earning a low groan when they pressed flush against the tenting bulge in his trousers. the places where he left his mark ached in the best way as he made his way down to your chest, earning another stifled whimpered when sucked at the valley of your breasts, fingers not stopping their slow routine that sent heat arcing up your spine. you muffled another whine when he bit at the soft flesh, tongue laving out to soothe the sting.
"ah.. p-porco, that..!" he didn't let you finish before he repeated the action to the other breast, firmly enough to print his teeth into your skin but not nearly enough to be entirely painful.
you were sure he could feel the way you were trembling now, how your shaky hands were tugging meekly at his shirt in a futile attempt to get it off. he pulled away with a chuckle, yanking it off of himself in one fluid motion and tossing it aside, planting a brief kiss over your lips before returning to his previous actions. this time his mouth descended over your nipple, tongue flicking over the pert bud and drawing more small whimpers out of you.
you were only keeping quiet out of the thought that the other warriors were in the dorms, and that they might come knocking eventually to tell you to shut up, but porco seemed more than happy to force more heated pants and moans out of you with little care for their volume. you squirmed under the power of his tongue, already feeling yourself practically soaking through your underwear as he swapped his attention to your unattended breast, hands smoothing down your waist to work at getting your skirt off. he managed to wrestled the lacing free more quickly than you thought he would, touch immediately delving under the loosened waistline and into your underwear.
"fuck," he groaned, thumb rubbing over your clit and making you up buck into his hand, "so fucking wet."
"stop t-teasing me.." you protested, feeling him move to nip and suck more marks at the underside of your breasts. you hadn't thought the skin would be so tender, but you couldn't help the moan that slipped from your lips at the sensation.
"makes sense that you're used to calling the shots," he spoke in a low tone, giving an apologetic lick to one of the larger bruises he'd left behind before proceeding further down your body, "but just trust me, alright? i'll make sure you'll never forget tonight."
you felt your heart skip at his words. "as if i could ever forget you."
you caught his small smile your own words garnered in the dim light, an expression that was boyishly shy yet prideful all at once, another image of him that you wanted to burn into your memory forever. after tossing your underwear aside to join the rest of your forgotten clothes, he guided apart your legs, pressing a soft kiss over your thigh before taking some of the pliant flesh between his full lips, sucking at it with enough pressure to make you whimper.
you knew what he was doing, littering your skin with bruises that would darken by the time morning came, leaving reminders of himself that probably would stay etched into your skin for the next few days, but definitely not more than a week. you assumed that he saw it as better than nothing, considering that the first time he left a mark on you he would always smirk to himself when he caught a glimpse of it, thumbing over it and kissing it when he could— figures that the prideful soldier loved to mark his territory. he took his time with this area, squeezing at your thighs and giving the occasional bite just to watch you squirm and whine, hazel eyes drinking in your visage as he teased you with the prospect of being so close to where you needed him.
"god, you look so good." he muttered after leaving the final mark, deciding that he'd drawn out his torture long enough, "i wish i could keep you like this forever."
you flushed brilliantly at that, your sheepish look garnering another quiet laugh from him before he settled your thighs onto his shoulders, fingers sinking into your soft hips and gently pulling you against him. the first lick was deliberately slow, laving up the entirety of your dripping cunt and stopping just at your clit, taking it into his mouth to draw small circles over it with the tip of his tongue.
you pressed one hand firmly over the lower half of your face to catch to moan that you couldn't swallow back and muffle the sound of your quick breaths through your nose, the other finding his hair and urging him closer. his mouth was exceptional, knowing exactly which places to lick and kiss, applying just the right pressure over you to make your toes curl and your legs shake, each low groan and mutter sending the delightful vibrations of his voice echoing across your skin. you did your best to not clench your thighs too firmly around his head, but your already vain efforts fell apart completely at the feeling of his tongue working its way into you, lapping up at the wetness that was now most likely dripping down his chin and making a mess of the sheets beneath you.
for all his hotheaded hubris, his smart mouth was good for much more than just spouting out arguments to defend his pride and dropping mediocre pick-up lines that would've been terribly cringeworthy from anyone else but were somehow endearing when he said them. one hand moved to replace the stimulation over your clit in his mouth's absence, the other sliding under your writhing form to find the small of your back, offering more support to the way your body arched into his mouth. the heat ebbing out over every inch of your flushed skin was overwhelming, leaving you drowning in the feeling of his skillful tongue and fingers, moans pouring out into the palm of your hand as you tugged at his hair and rolled your hips up into his touch.
"f-fuck.. c-c-can't.. i th-think..!" you could barely form coherent words, but you were sure he knew exactly what you were trying to tell him based on the way he redoubled his efforts over you, drawing out one last muffled whine before you came against his mouth.
you had expected him to let you ride out your high like he always did, eventually guiding you down with a steadily slowing rhythm and soft kisses to your trembling body, but he did neither, not even faltering as urged you even closer to his unrelenting attention.
"p-porco..!" you mewled, having to pull the hand at your mouth away to gasp in sufficient breath, "please—f-fuck—l-let me rest for a m-minute!!"
you met his gaze from between your legs, barely steady enough to match the intensity, not able to see his mouth but knowing he was grinning from the way the corners of his eyes creased. when you tried to unclasp your thighs from around his head, his hands quickly grabbed them and held your legs apart just enough to accommodate his place between them, his low chuckle at your desperate expression sending another jolt of pleasure sparking up your spine.
you couldn't stop the incessant trembling of your body, every muscle wracked with an uncompromising heat that drove breathless, unrestrained whines out of you as his tongue drew you back to that familiar peak in under a minute. each shaky clench on your hand in his hair earned you more low groans into your overly-sensitive flesh, your head craning back as far as the pillow allowed it to and heels digging into the firm muscle of his back as your lids squeezed shut, entirely immersed into the all-consuming heat that was fervid enough to bring tears to your eyes. you felt more than overstimulated as he finally let up and allowed you to fall back down onto the bed in a panting heap, pressing soothing kisses across the skin of your bruised thighs.
"do you need a break?" he murmured, not at all hiding how he was admiring your debauched expression.
"just a little one." you barely whispered back, still struggling to catch your breath and slow your heart.
he took mercy on you, slipping your legs off of his shoulders and stepping off of the bed to wrestle off his pants and boxers, giving you until then to regain your bearings. you let your wandering eyes settle on his dimly lit figure, the shadowed contour of the muscles lining his chest and arms looking even more defined in the faint radiance the window provided.
you would miss feeling the way they would flex under his warm skin when you smoothed your hands over the expanse of his torso, how you could feel his heart thud steadily against your fingers or hear it when you rested your head on his naked chest. just the thought of your departure was sobering in it own right, but remembering what you would have to take part in just after you would give your final farewell made you feel a lump knotting its way into the center of your throat. you tried not to let that dismay show on your face as he took his place over you once again, letting you pull him down into a kiss that was softer, less lustful than all the others that had come before.
"c'mon, getting sappy on me already?" he teased playfully. you didn't even have to open your eyes to know that he was grinning. you huffed, earning a small laugh and another gentle peck.
"no! just.." you met his gaze, suppressing your own smile at the sight of his cocked eyebrow and lofty smile, "just thinking about the next time i'll be able to come back."
another lie, but he didn't know, face softening at the pleasant thought. "you'll hear about it at the play tomorrow, but lord tybur's inviting all of marley's new allies to join hands against that island. things are gonna get busy from now on, and who knows? maybe you might have to come back and make another visit."
"here's to hoping." the hands on his cheeks wandered away to lace under his arms, forearms resting on his solid back and fingers gingerly grasping his shoulders, "i wouldn't mind spending a few more nights like this.."
"no need to be shy, princess," he smirked, punctuating the phrase with a more heated kiss that made your heart pick up its pace once more, the taste of you still discernible on his tongue, "you can be more honest than that, i won't tell on you."
you didn't correct him on your false designation this time, starting to enjoy it as more of a pet name than an official title. you felt the heat of arousal that had been dampened by your foresight flicker back to life when he dipped his head down into your neck, nipping and kissing at the array of marks he'd left behind, shifting his position so he could line himself up with your drenched cunt. you didn't realize you'd been waiting with baited breath until he eased himself inside of you, your shaky exhale drawing out into a low moan, the desire to be quiet completely forgotten as he started out at a slow, deep pace.
"fuck, i'll never get tired of this." he muttered, each thrust driving little pants and whimpers from your parted lips.
he seemed to want to draw out your intimate exchange as long as he could, knowing that you wouldn't last all night but wanting to savor this time nonetheless. and you were grateful for that, just as you were grateful for how he paid such special attention to make sure he always left you satisfied, or how he'd always managed to slip in those stupidly sweet comments that made you feel alight with a carefree airiness you hadn't felt in so long before you met him.
so the evening drew on, a cycle of whispered words and messy kisses, his grunts and groans mixing with your own breathy whimpers and whines, limbs tangling together to hold your bodies close and hips rolling to meet the others'. you came apart in his hands more time than you cared to count, more focused in how he would moan against your mouth when your nails raked down his back hard enough to leave reddened scratches over his tanned skin or memorizing the hazy look in his eyes when he stared down at you with that fuck-drunk grin, clearly spent but not wanting to throw in the towel until he'd given it his all.
satisfaction only came after you'd both finally reached the point of complete exhaustion, sticky with sweat and greedily gulping in gasps of the room's hot air, somehow still finding enough energy to breathily giggle at your tired expressions when you turned in bed to face each other. you waited until your skin had cooled off before you moved over to him, humming contently at the feeling of his strong arms doing most of the work of pulling you closer.
"come to the festival with me tomorrow." he said, voice low as it reverberated in the ear that was pressed to his chest.
"was that not already the plan, soldier boy?" you hadn't expected for your murmur to sound so tired, eyes already too heavy to keep open, the hand that was carding through your hair not making it any easier to cling to your waning alertness.
he let out a small chuckle, whether it was at the snippy remark or the new moniker you couldn't tell. "just making sure, princess."
the silence that settled around you both was natural, almost comforting, allowing you to hear the way his breathing had begun to steady out, and the slow beat of his heart that had just been racing alongside yours minutes ago. despite all your physical fatigue, you found yourself unable to fall asleep with him, the weight of all your thoughts keeping you anchored to consciousness. it didn't feel like tomorrow was the end, you weren't ready for the finiteness of reality to settle in just yet.
you nestled your face closer to his warmth, squeezing your eyes shut in an attempt to keep in the tears that had begun to well within them. it wasn't right, it wasn't fair, you deserved better than to have this happiness ripped away from you just as fast as you'd found it, he deserved better than the deceit and never-ending series of lies than you'd been stringing him along with.
"porco," you breathed, so quietly that you could barely even hear yourself, "i lo.."
you stopped. you couldn't say that. you couldn't think that.
you felt the tear that had slipped down the side of your face drip onto his chest, your arms around him hugging him tighter as you drew in a few deep breaths to calm yourself. you eventually forced yourself to sleep, knowing that you'd need it for the long day ahead of you, and hoping you'd find an escape from the unforeseen circumstances of your guilty conscious in your dreams.
the next day came and went so quickly, filled with loud music and chattering crowds and so much laughter, a happiness that allowed you to lose yourself in the fun of it all as you and him ate and drank from as many stalls as you could find. there were foods and desserts that you'd never seen before in marley or in paradis, curious instruments and street performances that he obviously wasn't used to either based on the eager sparkle that gleamed in his eyes. your feet were sore by the time the sun had begun to sink below the horizon, casting a warm glow across the entire city as you exited the avenue that had been bustling with life all afternoon now steadily emptying out as everyone readied themselves for the show that lord tybur would be hosting in the square.
you didn't let go of his hand as you both wandered down the city streets towards the square, worried that your palms would sweat or your fingers would tremble, giving away how much you were dreading reaching your final destination. you kept the smile that had been entirely genuine up until minutes ago plastered on your face, unable to come to terms with the inevitable end that was just a few meters and a side street away. and when the lines of wooden benches and large stage finally came into view, you felt that sinking feeling of your heart give way to an cold emptiness caving a hole in your chest, only able to follow him along as he guided you out of the walkway and onto an empty place on the sidewalk.
"i have to go sit with the rest of my unit, but i'll see you after the show, alright?" he told you without a second thought, entirely sure of the fact that he might have the chance to sneak you away for a few more indulgent moments before you had to return to your home country.
you swallowed down the lump in your throat, lips struggling to maintain their shaky smile as you answered. "definitely. we'll meet again here?"
he nodded, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. you tried not to make the deep breath you took to steady yourself obvious, balancing up on your toes to press one last lingering kiss across his lips. it didn't last nearly long enough, only able to catch a hint of ginger and lime from the last drink you'd both shared before he released your hand and started on his trek to his seat, turning to give a wave and a smile over his shoulder before he disappeared into the crowd.
as soon as he was out of your sight, you pushed down all the conflicting emotions that had been threatening to smother you, not allowing yourself to cry even as you ventured away from the stage. the show would be starting in less than five minutes, and it wouldn't probably take more than ten for eren to give his cue.
you couldn't get that last image of his face out of your head, eyes bright, smiling widely down at you, so entirely unaware of the chaos that would unfold just after the curtain call. buildings would be destroyed, people would die, people he most likely knew and spoke to longer than he was aware of your existence, and a portion of the fault fell on your shoulders. and even from a block away you could hear the vibrant cheers of the crowd as the curtain rose, your brisk pace turning into a near run as you tried to escape the sounds of the townspeople, tried to forget the impending doom hanging over you as the go-time for the operation to lay siege on marley drew nearer and nearer with every step.
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Slashers W/ a Soft Pastel S/O
A/n - So this one actually wasn’t requested, I just thought it would be super cute. And what I mean by “Soft Pastel”, I mean being into soft/pastel/kawaii fashion, I just didn’t know how to phrase it. Since there’s so many subcultures.
Trigger Warning: Slight Cursing (I say f*ck)
Also- these are gender neutral, but a few describe you in skirts/dresses, so if you’re not comfy with that, just skip that part or the whole thing?? :/
I might do more like this for other types of alternative fashion- like punk or something? Or a S/O who has a lot of body mods, I think it would be fun.
Characters: Billy/Stu, The Lost Boys, Helen Lyle, Daniel Robitaille/Candyman, Brahms Heelshire, and Amanda Young.
I didn’t add Michael Myers, but can do so if y’all want it. I just think he’d be very indifferent about it...didn’t think that would be very fun to read.
Billy Loomis + Stu Macher
Stu would be the most like into your outfits
Billy? Not so much. he just thinks you look cute in everything.
but if you did more guro-kawaii looks? they would both be all over that shit.
it combines more of the grotesque in with the cute- which is just perfect for the boys. they get to see you dawned in all sorts of blood, guts/gore, bandage patterns/aesthetics.
and maybe even tying in different monster-ish elements.
like wearing funky white or other unnatural colored contacts, really intense makeup(especially around the eyes), and fuck it, maybe you’re wearing faux demon horns.
I think they’d find it kinda hot. if we’re being perfectly honest here.
Now- would you able to get them into it as well?
Stu will ask you, with excitement reverberating throughout out his body and his voice. of course he want’s to at least try it!
so many clips in Stu’s hair. you haven’t even had that many in your hair before!
he may also wear rings sometimes. he thinks all the colors and designs are just so fun!
and on the other hand...
Billy, the guy that basically wore the same outfit for an entire movie? who’s closet only contains jeans and white t-shirts? trying out your style? i don’t think so lol
if you do- somehow- get him to try...
then you might have pressured him into it a bit? very jokingly, of course.
“C’mon, humor me, babe. Stu’s already dressed and everything!” You try giving him puppy eyes to seal the deal.
“Fine!” Billy says, grabbing the garment and a few clips from your hands. He shuts the door too harshly behind him.
A short silence is shared, before you and Stu burst out laughing. “Do you think he’s mad at us?” You’re hardly able to get it out. Of course he was, but in his own odd way appreciated this adventure.
He comes back a moment later, his white t-shirt replaced with a pastel red one, an especially gory character printed on the front. and a red clip barely hanging on to one of the side pieces of hair in front of his face. You try to suppress a giggle at Billy’s messily put together look.
for the love of gosh- don’t actually laugh when he appears. he is very outside of his comfort zone, and he’s only doing this because he loves you and Stu, and just,, don’t add this to his list of reasons not to try new things.
whatever your reaction ends up being, you’re absolutely obligated to tell them how attractive they look in it(even Billy who looks hella dorky).
(my art)
The Lost Boys
the comparison between their dark, punk-ish style and then the sweet baby pinks and blues, and soft lavenders that adorned your form??
it’s just too sweet.
they are completely enamored by your style- even if certain vampires (and I’m not naming any names, but I definitely mean David) may not show his love for your look as openly
Marko- he’d get one cutesy patch for his jacket, so he has like a little piece of you everywhere he goes. also...he genuinely ended up really digging your style? but not enough to abandon his punk look completely. he is still totally dedicated to that.
the other boys will absolutely mess with him about the patch though
all in good fun!
David’s not letting you near his hair with any extra clips or accessories.
Dwayne enjoys the quiet intimacy shared between the two of you. just sitting together, you might be styling his hair( super loose ponytail or braid- admit it, it would be so cute! and helpful so his hair isn’t always in his face!)...anyways, you’d use a colorful hair tie, and a few clips to help pin back his hair.
he probably won’t go out with the clips in, but if it’s just the five of you at the cave? he’ll keep it in until it’s time to sleep.
he loves seeing how happy and accomplished you look after finishing with his hair tho.
Paul is hands down the most likely to get into the whole look and go out in public with it on.
makeup? hell yeah. it won’t be as intense as yours, and he probably only does the eyes and maybe some shine. sparkly vampire time
hair accessories? all of them
would try combining his look with yours, to have a perfect mess of it.
a light, light blue mesh top, slightly darker blue jacket(with slight accents in pink, purple, white or black), and his usual sort of white jeans(?) would still look great with it. he’s absolutely rocking that look.
you are ecstatic to finally have someone else to share your passion with! (much harder to find similar folks when you’re a vampire,,)
Helen Lyle
she’s so used to the plain life around her, and she’d been living before you- you were such a breath of fresh air.
of course, you’re darling personality also drew her into you- but your fashion sense? it fascinated her.
she’s not trying it herself anytime soon, but she appreciates the fact that you enjoy it.
the most she would ever try is a very natural makeup look. and a coat or two of a pastel color of her choice.
she would love watching you get ready. not so much help out though- she just likes seeing the way you approach things. how you choose to pair certain pieces with one another.
she’ll ask questions to better understand your interests! not that it’s weird or wrong that you’re into it, she’s just a very inquisitive person.
you’d wear a lot of blue though- because you know Helen likes that color.
imagine wearing coordinated looks for different events and such. so, when you go with Helen to help out with her Candyman thesis, you might wear candy-themed attire. (of course in this universe,, she wouldn’t die! so no worries of that! you get to keep you’re gf).
if you do gift her something, she keeps it on her bedside table(or dresser). so she can still admire it, and still serves a purpose. fun décor!
all around though- Helen would be very chill, but captivated, about you’re interests.
Daniel Robitaille - Candyman
his life is so dark and gruesome, and he loves seeing you all dressed up.
and while he’s dead- long dead- and isn’t really apart of the world in the same sense that you are- it gives him this happy sense of hope for the world.
because there’s this very small thing, that you hold close to your heart, that makes you smile.
Also!!
even if they’re apart of a super awful, traumatic, part of his past- the bees are just a part of the family now.
so cute yellow/spring/bee themed outfits?? yes. ohh definitely, yes.
As for him dressing up? He’d feel hesitant.
he’s filled with immense joy around you, but is almost scared with someone altering part of his attire or self in any way(rooted back to, again, past stuff).
but part of loving is to take the person as a whole, bad parts, good parts- insecurities- the entire package. and trusting one another.
he has his whole faith in you not to do anything bad.
and so, it becomes a habit for the two of you to spend mornings together, chatting and getting ready. well, you’re getting ready, it’s more for the quality time together for him.
things are little different for Daniel. for many reasons.
one, he has very short hair. so the clips don’t really work there..
two- he only has one hand, and he’s “working” a lot with the appendages he does have. rings won’t work out because they might fall off- and he’d hate to lose something of yours.
three- he’s not a big makeup fan. he’s happy enough watching you put it on.
and then for his actual attire- he needs the coat to cover his insides. it’s also, in a way, his uniform.
you’ve settled on two things.
making homemade necklaces that can easily hide under his big coat (either sweets or honey/bee themed).
and sewing little patterns on the inside of his coat. other’s wouldn’t be able to see it, but he would know it’s there.
Brahms Heelshire
imagine being super into sorta ‘sweet lolita’, pastel/soft colors, bows, the big skirts, all the sorta ruffles(?)
and then especially if your shorter than Brahms(which is really,, not hard to do unless you’re insanely tall cause he’s,, 6 foot 3.)- and he thinks you look like such a doll?
but like,, in a nice way.
I think he’d get pretty excited if he got to help you set up your outfits!
especially if you praised him for picking out a good combo, or organizing correctly.
and some of Brahms movements are a bit awkward, he’s spent most of his life in the walls and the attic...but imagine turning on his music, and just dancing with him. having him twirl you in his arms a few times.
Brahms loves having your hands through his hair. and if hair accessories means he gets more of that love and attention? then yes,, yes he will wear them.
he just likes feeling taken care of, and along with your usual duties, you help him figure out the soft fashion styles, and how to make it more appealing and suitable for his own tastes.
because- as you insist- you want it to be something he enjoys just because he does, and not just for the closeness. though you can’t deny you love that aspect, too.
i can tell you one thing right here, though. you’re never getting makeup on him. he does not like taking off his mask, even if you’ve been in a relationship with him for a while, he still hides his face a lot.
you’d offered to do his makeup once, since he was staring so intently as you did yours. you’d made the mistake of reaching for his mask. you’d usually ask before doing so, but sometimes you’d slip up.
You apologize profusely, offering your arms out to him for a hug. “There, there, Brahms.” You smile, giving him a slight squeeze of affection.
he does take your stuff sometimes.
it’s a little annoying when you think you’ve lost your favorite accessory or dress or etc and then you just realize,, oh, it’s my favorite wall boy again. thank gosh you love him, so you’re not really upset or anything.
he just likes having little reminders of you, it gives him reassurance. upon other warm and fuzzy feelings.
if you’re able to find time in your day though, you’ll make cute little trinkets or bracelets for him. you’ll gift them or purposely leave them out for him- so you’ll still have some of your stuff when it comes to getting ready the next day.
in short- he’d much rather look at you than partake on his own.
Amanda Young
she’s never seen anything like this! :0
everyone she knows, herself included, tend to wear more dulled, plain clothes.
she’s immediately very intrigued by your attire...sort of want’s to try it, but is a bit self conscious and embarrassed to ask.
So!! you start out with small things, and fairly early on you both realize that she loves when you decorate her hair with accessories.
gifting Amanda a pair of little pig clips!!
or little stud earrings- those would be fricking adorable on her!
and she’s just so happy,, wtf
you dress mostly for yourself, but the more you’re in a relationship with your gf- the more you want to dress for her as well.
you can see this little sparkle in her eye when she sees you, and you want to keep seeing that look for as long as you can.
you slowly get her into it. your relationship and Amanda’s interest in your style just gives her so much light in an otherwise dim world.
if she did get into it, I think she’d do more creepy/cute. as a way to sort of cope with past trauma. that this sort of “bad” thing (the creepy) can still coexist with the good (the cute). she admires that quality.
just very sweet partners, who happen to love similar types of fashion
#billy loomis x reader#stu macher x reader#billy x reader x stu#billy loomis x reader x stu macher#poly!ghostface x reader#the lost boys x reader#the lost boys david#the lost boys dwayne#the lost boys paul#the lost boys marko#helen lyle x reader#brahms heelshire x reader#amanda young x reader#the pig x reader#slasher x reader#slasher x s/o#slasher imagines#slasher x s/i#slasher#slashers#slasher movies#scream#the lost boys#candyman#the boy#saw#requests are open#headcanons#fluff#daniel robitaille x reader
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I'm curious for your take on a fashion trend that always has been hanging out in the wings, but seems to have really taken off in K-Pop in particular the last few years.
It seems like every way I look these days, we're getting hit with luxury "looks" that are legit just the luxury brand printed all over a bland or non-innovative item. This definitely isn't new (it makes me think of the prevalence of those stupid - and stupidly expensive - Abercrombie & Fitch t-shirts in the US back in the 2000s), but I feel like it's now seeping into K-Pop album concept photos and stage outfits in addition to just their every day fashion/sponsored photo shoots. In some cases it doesn't bother me as much because its a small addition (like Sunmi's triangle Prada barrettes in some of her latest comeback photos - I don't like the barrettes, but they work because the wider concept is great) or its used unconventionally (like TxT's latest concept photos, where you can see some of the usual brands but thrown together with unconventional pieces so they feel fresh).
But in other cases, it feels like they're just phoning it in by picking luxury clothing so they can say "look, we're expensive" and calling it a day. I'd submit the examples of The Boyz in some of their latest teasers, the latest Stray Kids concept photos, and quite a few of Blackpink's albums/promotions since they all have their own brand sponsors that they stick to these days. A lot of American celebrities are guilty of this as well so its not just K-Pop, but I honestly just don't expect more from Hollywood like I do from K-Pop.
It's clear that you can have effective styling without defaulting to the luxury branding (A.C.E comes to mind immediately), and there are plenty of luxury pieces that don't have their branding all over it that often allow the same luxury feel without shoving the brand in your face. So this branded merchandise trend really ends up rubbing me the wrong way.
What are your thoughts? I think my stance is clear, but I'd love a different perspective from someone that has a lot more background in fashion, particularly stage fashion, than myself.
anon ilu i have many thoughts on this topic but i don't think i've ever mentioned it before so thank you thank you for somehow reading my single braincell and asking about it!
basically for anyone who doesn't want to read me going off about luxury branding the tldr is yes i agree, i personally don't like branding in general and luxury branding especially. i don't own a single item of clothing or accessory with an obvious/recognizable brand logo and i haven't for probably over a decade now. now let's get into some nitty gritty.
in the current fashion climate i think most of the time it's tacky to display wealth so openly and obviously and it is one of the main factors in driving the machine of fashion consumerist culture. i also think it's a weak styling choice because it only has one association: money. 99% of the time it does not contribute anything meaningful to the artistic vision of the work and it's just to brag. sm stylists pull off luxury branding better than most other groups because they tend to integrate it well into the overall aesthetics of the specific mvs, and it's usually pretty sparing. with sm they use it more as a confirmation of the quality of the sm brand than just boasting about money in general. notable examples where i think visible branding works are kun's supreme jacket in kick back, and taemin's balenciaga 2017 in day and night, because both well integrated into the aesthetics of the videos and they're also offset by other looks. i also like the styling in bambam's ribbon, because although the whole mv is designer looks, he only uses one actually logo-ed one (louis vuitton escale summer 2020), which gives a visual indication of expense to anyone who isn't familiar with fashion. the only time i can think of an idol using a brand ironically is taemin's supreme instagram bad bitch outfit in advice, because he's parodying a specific look.
most of the clothing from designer houses is absent of logos, with the exception of a few (lv, gucci are the main offenders). but, there is the caveat that it does tend to be the ready to wear collections that have that kind of design. (ready to wear is the stuff that is available for off the rack purchase). here's a few examples:
taemin and key in balenciaga menswear ss2018 for story of light, taemin and ten in louis vuitton menswear ss2021 for advice and paint me naked.
in my opinion there's only one house that can get away with the irony of its own branding and that's balenciaga, because they consistently do the weirdest shit you could possibly think of. they have a collaboration with crocs. no i am not joking. the shoes for their fall 2021 collection are platemail stilettos. yes like the medieval armour. they launched that collection as a video game. they recently cleared their entire instagram but prior to that they were just letting models post cryptid blurry shots with no captions. there are designers that are doing interesting things, but very rarely is it with the physical branding itself. it's difficult because like i said before, it locks the audience into an extremely specific connotation and honestly most kpop stylists are not deft enough to work around that in a truly meaningful way.
the important things to hit in any styling are colour, harmony, and silhouette. thank you for bringing up a.c.e because i would have done it anyways, because their stylist is probably the best in the business right now. i talk about the basics here (of styling and of a.c.e in particular), but anon you are correct, a.c.e uses very very little branded styling and they look great. good styling is not about looking expensive, it's about looking the best as befitting of the concept.
but here's where we come to an important point. like with most things about kpop and western pop culture as a whole, luxury branding and streetwear as a trend has been appropriated from black hiphop artists and black streetwear fashion in the 90s and 00s. it started in the hood as a reclamation of items that were meant to be 'outside their station' (luxury) and an elevation of plainclothes that were available to them. sportswear by and large was always cheaper and mass produced, in comparision to day to day wear, which used more expensive materials and had more complicated construction. and was activities based only. it wasn't until around the 1860s that sportwear even existed at all, and even then it was not what you would think of as sportwear by modern standards. there was, up until the 1980s, a pretty strict unspoken dress code that if you wanted to be taken seriously in polite (white) society, you had to dress according to the class standards at the time. (this still exists by the way, it hasn't gone away at all, especially in relation to workplaces and black/natural hair). streetwear at the time was a form of celebration of black excellence and a subversion of white society. but like all innovations by black people, it got jacked by white america and now it's lost the meaning behind its context. on black bodies and paired with black achievements, branding is an important and relevant styling choice. on kpop boys? they're already lifting second hand at this point. do better.
#i didnt even talk about the new wealth vs old wealth aesthetic but whatever#theres a lot here ok!!!!#contemporary fashion gets complicated if you try to untangle the origins of trends#but the majority of them come from black culture#baggy/oversized clothing is another one#its not that i dont think people should be restricted from wearing specific things***#but it is important to acknowledge where those things came from#and if the population that started the trend of that thing is still subjected to persecution because of it#while others get deemed as 'cool' or trendy#maybe you should not be wearing that thing#and kpop has a history of not understanding contexts or crediting originators#(in aesthetics and in music)#so no i dont like luxury branding in kpop#***EXCEPT for traditional/ceremonial/religious garments#please for the love of all that is holy stop wearing fucking warbonnets#ah but the appropriation of native american/first nations imagery in kpop is a topic for another day#and also one that fans REALLY dont want to talk about#BUT do not take me for an authority here i am not an authority my opinions do not matter#listen to bipoc but also dont demand answers of them#google is right there#tumblr is so fucking garbage at image layouts and im too lazy to make it look nicer#but im pretty sure yall can see what im talking about#kpop questions#kpop analysis#text#answers#general design questions#kpop styling
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