#and why it comes back to harry questioning whether it’s worth it to even live | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

meetmymouth · 2 years ago

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theadora, part eleven

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It had only been hours since Harry’s departure, though she still couldn’t move from her position at the kitchen table. She sat there for hours, a cold cup of coffee on the table, phone face down, and she thought about everything– everything before the divorce, and everything that’s happened tonight. Now as the clock nears four o’clock in the morning, she lets out a big yawn, and decides to get up and walk to her ensuite. She gets rid of her clothes, and gets in bed with makeup still on and the thoughts still swirling around in her head.

She thinks back to what Harry said.

Was it worth it? Were they being rash about this, getting back together no matter how slowly they went? Should they even be together now that they’ve gotten a divorce? All these questions ran through her head, eating her alive, and the sleep didn’t come until six o’clock, which lasted for two hours before her phone rang. She figures it was more than okay to answer the door with smudged makeup.

“Sorry,” she murmurs when she opens the door, though the words fall short when she sees Thea, all bundled up in her grandpa’s arms. “Hi baby,” she takes her into her arms, laughing when Thea makes excited sounds. “Hi sweetheart– hi my love. Mummy missed you.”

She smiles, walking inside as her father follows with Thea’s bag on his shoulder. “Yes, Teddy, hi, baby.”

David whistles. “No good morning to dad?” He says, placing Thea’s bag on the sofa.

She turns around, Thea still in her arms, and smiles. She doesn’t want to know how pathetic she looks with the smudged makeup on her face, and she’s eternally grateful that her father does not mention it.

“Good morning, dad,” she says, smiling still. “Sorry– I overslept.”

“You okay? You look a bit… you know. Are you ill?”

“No, not at all– I didn’t have time to take my makeup off last night, I got lazy.”

He nods, then follows her into the kitchen. “And how was the birthday party?” He watches as she puts the kettle on.

“It was good,” she takes two mugs out, and places Thea on her feet when she says, down– or at least something similar to that.

They watch as she walks into the living room, and finds a few of her toys and starts playing before David turns back to her.

“And?”

“And, what?”

“Come on, Y/N, you look like you want to tell me something,” he smiles, fixing his glasses.

She hates this.

She hates how much he seems to know her, her little quirks and whenever she’s too nervous to say something. She knows it’s a good thing, her dad knowing her well, but she still feels anxious about everything and talking about it will make everything worse, she thinks.

“How do you know me so well,” she murmurs, rubbing her eye, probably smudging mascara crusts around.

“Come on,” he says. “Out with it.”

“Harry was there.”

“Okay, did you guys have an argument?”

She checks on Theadora, then comes back to the kettle, and pours the water into their mugs. Walking to the fridge, she shakes her head, not knowing whether her dad has seen it or not.

“We didn’t,” she says for good measure. “It was actually– it was an interesting night. The end of it…”

She turns to him, and walks to the kitchen table, placing their mugs on there before sitting down. He looks at her with his thick eyebrows raised, and she finds herself sighing because of the nerves.

He clears his throat, hands around his mug. “If it’s something… explicit–”

“–Dad, no! God, don’t be silly.”

“Okay, okay,” he raises his hands. “Just tell me, Y/N.”

She gulps. “He asked to try again.”

A crease between his brows. “Try?”

“Try us– together. Like before.”

“Why?” He asks in a hurried manner.

She can’t help but roll her eyes. “Why, what?”

“What did you say?”

“Dad, I feel like you’re judging me already,” she murmurs, taking a small sip from her tea.

He does the same, and is quiet for a few seconds. “I’m not,” he says, nodding. “I’m not judging you, sweetheart. I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.”

“What did you say?” He directs the question again.

She sighs, taking another sip from her tea, and watches the bubbles in her mug disappear when she puts it back down on the table. Thea comes in the kitchen, and asks to be seated in her lap, so she does just that before looking at her father once again.

“I said– I said we should take things slow.”

He hums. “You’re together now?”

“I don’t know, dad–” she is interrupted when her phone goes off with a text in her robe pocket. She adjusts Thea in her lap, and fishes the phone out.

She can’t help the smile that comes out when she sees his contact name on the screen, and when the phone recognises her face, the text appears instantly. Good morning, it says. I can’t stop smiling, another one goes, when can I see you guys…

“Is that him?” David asks. “Harry?”

“Yes.”

“I love you,” he says. “You know I want what’s best for you, right?”

“I do, dad,” she nods, kissing the side of Thea’s neck as she plays with a toy block in her hands. “I do. I just– I love him.”

“Is that enough?”

A beat.

Then she sighs.

“I don’t know– I guess, we’ll see.”

He exhales. “I don’t want you to get hurt– again.”

“I love him.”

They’re silent for a moment, and Thea looks up at her mother, and giggles when the block falls from her hands and hits the floor.

David places his mug back on the table. “I always have your back,” he says. “I’ll always be here for you. It’s not– it’s not my place to tell you what to do. You know the best. I just don’t want you to get hurt again.”

“I know, dad,” she bites her lip. “I just– I want to see where we go from here. I think something good will come out of this.”

He nods. “If you say so.”

David leaves after washing their mugs in the sink, and she feeds Thea before making herself another cup of tea as they sit on the sofa and Thea plays with her blocks. She’s being good, and quiet for some reason, so she takes the opportunity to get her phone out, and click Harry’s contact name.

He answers in seconds.

“Y/N?”

“Hi,” she says, trying hard not to smile like an idiot at the sound of his voice.

“Are you okay? Teddy?”

“We’re okay. Just wanted to call instead of texting.”

“Hm,” she hears the smile in his voice. “I’m glad.”

“So,” she looks around, then at Thea who’s looking up at her. She smiles. “Are you free?”

“Of course– said I’d want to visit last night, didn’t I?” Harry mutters, and she hears clinking sounds, probably him making a cup of tea. “Are you both free?”

“Yes.”

“Can I come and see you both? The weather looks nice… sunny. We can– did you have breakfast?”

“No, not yet.”

“Okay– we can eat outside, in the garden… in the sun. How’s that sound?” He asks, and she hears the kettle on the other end.

She nods, despite him not seeing her. “Yeah,” she says. “Sounds good.”

“I’ll be there in a few, then. I’ll make breakfast for you– is that okay?”

“I wouldn’t say no to that,” she laughs. He copies her.

“Okay. I’ll see you both in a few, then.”

“Yeah, see you.”

She looks down at Thea, and smiles. “Let’s get dressed, Teddy. Daddy’s visiting.”

She walks up the stairs, Teddy on her hip, and places her on her bed as she gets her clothes on; a pair of joggers and an old hoodie that belonged to Harry. She gets her fluffy socks on, and they make their way downstairs. She’s on the carpet with Thea, playing with dolls when the doorbell goes off, and she gets up, her heart thumping in her chest like she’s ran a marathon.

It's a relief.

Seeing him on her doorstep somehow gives her comfort and suddenly, she feels so at ease, like all the thoughts swirling in her head from last night had disappeared and left behind only one thing:

Harry.

“Hi,” he smiles, hand bearing a few shopping bags. She recognises the logo on the bags, and purses her lips, then laughs when he does, noticing what she’s looking at. “I can’t help it, you know.”

She lets him in, takes the bags from him, and watches him take his trainers off.

“You didn’t have to buy anything,” she says, looking back in the living room to see Thea still seated on the carpet. She turns back to Harry. “I have stuff for breakfast.”

Harry doesn’t answer and instead, he makes a beeline towards Thea and grabs her by her armpits, and places kisses all over her tiny face. It’s a wholesome and a beautiful sight, seeing them interact that way as Thea tries grabbing strands of his hair, trying to pull as much as she can while he peppers kisses on her face.

“Teddy,” Harry laughs into her neck. She feels put, like she can’t move as she watches their interaction. “You’re hurting Daddy. I’ve no hair left, bug.”

She snorts. “Drama queen,” she walks into the kitchen, and places the bags on the counter.

There are only two bags, and when she opens them, she sees that he’s picked up his favourite brand of milk, only available in select stores like Waitrose, bacon, organic eggs, pancake mix, some fruits clearly chosen with Teddy in mind, and her favourite brand of milk. She bites her bottom lip, then comes a feeling of a warm pair of hands on her waist.

She gasps, turning around, and finds Harry’s smiling face.

“Slow,” she murmurs, looking down at her feet. “We’re taking it slow, remember?”

He nods, biting his lip. He looks upset, though he recovers quickly and smiles. “Okay,” he says, nodding again. “Okay, yeah. I’m sorry.”

“That’s okay.”

“So,” he looks at the shopping bags. “I know you like pancakes and bacon and even though it annoys you, I bought a pancake mix,” he grins. “Saves us time and dishes.”

She looks up at him, then at Thea who’s walking over to them with a Barbie doll in hand.

“Okay, I don’t mind,” she laughs, taking the pancake mix out as Harry takes Thea in his arms. She turns back to them. “You’re on bacon duty, then. I’ll make the pancakes.”

She doesn’t mention him getting her favourite brand of milk. She doesn’t mention him also getting his favourite brand of milk. Instead, she takes them out of the bag, and places them on the kitchen table as Harry tries to navigate the kitchen, trying to find a frying pan with Thea still in his arms.

He looks up. “Did you change the place where you kept the frying pans?” He asks, a crease between his brows.

“Yeah, they’re on your right.”

“Oh,” he nods.

She shrugs, then takes Thea from him so she can place her in her highchair. Getting the apple slices from the Waitrose bags, she washes them once more just in case, and places the small plastic cup in front of Thea on her highchair.

They move around each other like they’re dancing, never once touching each other while Harry places the bacon in the frying pan as she gets the pancake mix ready.

She looks up from Thea, and looks at Harry. “Am I using my milk, or your milk?” She asks, turning her gaze to the milks on the kitchen table.

“Yours.”

“We can use yours.”

“I don’t mind– I know you don’t really like it so use the one you like.”

“Okay, thanks,” she murmurs, grabbing the milk.

They both get to work, placing each frying pan on the hobs as Harry stands with hands on his hips while she still shakes the mix by the stove. They’re both quiet, but it’s comfortable with Thea occasionally humming and blabbering words she can say in between bites from her apple slices. Harry turns the bacon over, and walks over to Thea, and takes a few photos while she chews funnily on a slice of apple. He comes back with a smile on his face, and she has to look away before she runs up to him and wraps her arms around his body.

“Did you see Glenne’s story?” He asks, making her turn to him after she pours some of the mix into the sizzling pan.

“No, why?”

“She’s tagged you in a video where she’s dancing to ‘Toxic’.”

“She’s crazy.”

He laughs, thanking her when she places a plate by the hobs for him to use for the bacon. “She kept messaging me about you as well. She stopped at four.”

“Why?”

“You didn’t text her when you got home and well– she kinda figured we left together or something after I ran outside after you.”

It’s her turn to laugh. “You’re silly, you know that?” She shakes her head, making him laugh.

When everything is ready, Harry sets the table outside while she changes Thea’s diaper and changes her into a pair of joggers and a jumper, something other than her pyjamas. When they walk outside, Thea on her hip while carrying the pancakes in her other hand, she sees him fixing the plates and adjusting their cutlery.

He looks up, and smiles. “I got the highchair, too,” he says proudly, motioning at Thea’s highchair.

“Thanks, H.”

“Of course. I already put the kettle on, you’re having tea, right?”

“Please.”

“Okay, I’ll be back.”

She places Thea in her highchair and sits on the chair closest to her, and grabs an apple slice from the plastic cup in front of her, making Thea whine and shake her head vigorously.

She whines even louder when Y/N laughs, and Harry comes back, carrying two mugs, and looks at them with raised eyebrows.

“What happened, bug?” He reaches and strokes her cheek, making her frown even harder.

“I stole an apple slice from her,” she laughs, tutting when Thea starts jumping in her seat. “It’s okay Teddy, we share, remember?”

“Mummy’s a little thief, isn’t she, Teddy?” Harry says, squeezing her cheek then stroking the small of her back. Thea looks up at him, and nods, humming in between. “Bet you didn’t even ask before taking,” Harry says, smiling at her.

She laughs, then grabs her mug and takes a small sip. She hums into the mug, pleasantly surprised at the way Harry remembered how she takes her tea. She knows she shouldn’t be surprised, and that you can’t forget how your ex wife takes her tea even after years because she herself still remembers how Harry takes not only his tea, but also his morning coffee. She notices him copying her and taking a sip from his drink– coffee, and they make eye contact.

Harry smiles. “Good?” He asks, motioning at her tea.

“Good. Thank you.”

“Of course.”

“So,” she says, sighing. “Anything planned in terms of the album?”

Harry hums, stealing another glance at Thea before turning back to her.

“Album’s nearly finished. No interviews planned until March-April,” he nods.

She does, too. “Good. I’m sure it’s all coming along nicely.”

“You could say that.”

“Happy for you.”

He smiles. “How about you? How’s work?”

“I spoke to Matt,” she bites into her pancakes, and places the fork into her mouth along with a piece of bacon. She chews, then covers her mouth to talk. “I can still work from home. He’s good with that.”

Harry nods, putting a piece of bacon into his mouth. “Do you like it? Working from home?”

“I do, at the moment, yeah,” she nods. “I’ll probably go into work soon, though. Maybe in a few months. It’s,” she shrugs. “It’s good to get out of the house for a bit, you know?”

“I know, yeah, exactly. But I’m glad Matt is understanding.”

“Yeah.”

It’s quiet as they eat their breakfast in comfortable silence, birds chirping above their heads while Thea hums from time to time– whenever Harry gives her a tiny piece of pancake. She nods enthusiastically when he asks, d’ya want more of daddy’s pancakes, poppet, and Harry obliges, placing some more into her tiny mouth carefully. It’s peaceful, the three of them eating in silence, and she doesn’t let herself think about what would come later and if anything would come later; she just lets herself feel at ease and excited about the present and nothing more.

He takes a sip from his coffee, and hums. He opens his mouth to talk, but is interrupted by his phone. It rings in an ear-piercing manner, making him give her a sheepish smile before answering.

“Hi, Jeff,” he says, hand reaching for Thea’s as he strokes her tiny hand while she still chews on the pancake Harry has given her. “I can’t today.”

She raises her eyebrows, looking at him over her mug.

Harry continues. “I’m at Y/N’s– yeah, yeah. I’ll– how long would it be? Okay, yeah. I’ll text.”

He hangs up, and gives Thea a smile before sending Y/N her own. “It was Jeff.”

“Yeah,” she says, playing with the pieces of bacon on her plate.

“It’s Nick’s last day at the radio tomorrow– Nick Grimshaw. They asked me to say something nice– send a voice note.”

“Oh,” she says, nodding.

She knew Nick, and liked him a lot, seeing how he was friends with most people from her line of work. Before Thea, when they would go out, Nick would always be there, a whiskey in hand and Alexa Chung in tow. They were inseparable at the time, especially Harry and Nick. But now, not so much. Though, she knew they still kept in touch and liked each other seeing how Nick was one of Harry’s first friends when he came to London years ago.

Harry clears his throat after the sip of coffee. “Is it okay if I record it here? It’ll be a few seconds.”

“Sure, of course.”

“Okay,” he smiles, looking at Thea for a second. “She’s got another tooth coming out,” he says, stroking her cheek.

“I’m surprised she’s not fussy. She’s usually a handful when teething.”

“Don’t jinx it,” Harry laughs.

They sit and eat quietly, and get everything inside when they’re done eating while she rinses their dishes and Harry places them in the dishwasher while singing along to a pop song on the radio. It’s peaceful, doing things quietly– together, and she wishes for the moment to last a bit longer, for Harry to stay longer, and to have this quiet, still, but peaceful atmosphere for as long as they can.

When the dishwasher is loaded, Harry closes it, and turns to check on Thea who’s now sitting in the middle of the kitchen, still in her highchair, turning the pages to an old calendar Y/N’s given her.

“I’m gonna go do that thing in the living room then I’ll come back– do you want to put on a film or do you need to work?”

She places her hands on her hips, and leans against the counter. “I need to finish something on my laptop but it’s just editing– it won’t take long. If you still want to stick around–”

“–I do. I will.”

“Okay… I’ll finish in half an hour.”

“Okay,” he smiles, fishing his phone out. “I’ll be quick. Then you can go and do your work while we find something to do with Teddy.”

“Okay,” she nods. “Good.”

She watches him walk past Thea, but not before leaning in and kissing her forehead first, then her cheeks, and he disappears into the living room, phone already in hand. She walks over to Thea and strokes her chubby cheeks, kissing them before she walks to the fridge and starts placing everything back in there.

Milks go in first, then the eggs, then comes the leftover pancake mix. She then moves to the stove and grabs the detergent spray from under the sink, and sprays a generous amount in both pans before leaving them on the side of the sink. Watching Thea yawn, she can’t help but copy her, and it makes Thea giggle loudly before yelling out a mum numerous times.

“Shh,” she laughs. “Daddy’s recording something, Teddy,” she whispers, knowing she won’t be able to understand a word of what she’s saying.

She listens either way, and nods like she knows what her mother is on about.

Harry comes in a minute later, phone back in his pocket, and grabs Thea by her armpits and places her on his hip.

“All done?” She asks, leaning back against the counter.

“All done. Sent it to Jeff.”

She nods. “Was there… any news about– you know, from Glenne’s birthday?” She asks, hesitation and anxiety bubbling inside her.

She knows she shouldn’t ask, especially not to Harry, but she can’t help herself– she wants to know for some foolish reason.

Harry purses his lips. “On the internet?” He asks, rocking Thea back and forth.

She nods.

“I haven’t been online for a while,” he says. “Jeff doesn’t send me stuff unless it’s– you know,” he laughs. “Unless it’s a scandal.”

“Oh,” she exhales. “Okay.”

“Plus, who cares,” Harry walks over to her. He stands right in front of her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth, and he ever-so-gently presses his palm against her cheek, and strokes her skin with his thumb before letting go. “Who cares what they say about us?”

“I know,” she murmurs. “I can’t help but wonder, though.”

He nods, and retracts his hand. “I understand,” he says quietly. “Now, go do your work inside and let us know if our dance party is too loud for you.”

“Dance party,” she laughs. “What are you going to put on? Kiwi?”

“Why not,” Harry shrugs. “Anything but Baby Shark.”

She leans forward and presses a kiss on Thea’s forehead, and as she pulls away, they make eye contact, Harry looking at her with parted mouth and a glimmer in his eyes. He grins at her, and tries to press his forehead against hers, but she shakes her head with a sheepish grin and pulls away completely, turning her back to them and walking towards her bedroom.

She works for an hour, and when she makes her way downstairs, it’s oddly quiet, and she stops in her tracks when she sees the room all tidy, and Harry is on the sofa with Thea lying on him, sleeping peacefully. She smiles, and walks over to them.

Harry looks up. “She fell asleep with the bottle in her mouth,” he whispers, hand on her back as he strokes the small of her back gently. He motions at the baby bottle filled with water on the coffee table.

“She does that sometimes. She prefers water over milk when sleepy.”

“What a weirdo,” he lets out a quiet laugh. “I think I’ve taken hundreds of selfies in this same position.”

She nods, smiling. “I’d do the same,” she sits on the edge of the sofa, by Harry’s feet. “Did you tidy around here?”

“Yeah.”

“Thank you.”

“No worries,” he smiles, looking down at Thea. “I want to ask you something.”

She raises her eyebrows, crossing her arms. “What is it?”

It’s quiet for a minute, then he talks. “Do you want to go get ice cream tonight? You, me, Teddy.”

She hums, and lets out a laugh. “Is it a date?”

“Sure– of course.”

“Yeah,” she says, looking ahead. “I’d love that.”

* * *

She feels a bit hesitant about going out with Harry.

She doesn’t think she’s ready to be photographed, to be looked at by his fans, especially with Thea with them. She knows it’s not something he can control, being looked at, but she can’t help but feel anxious over it. One look at the mirror though, she realises she can’t live her life in such anxiety over what ifs and what would happen if she were to go out with him. She decides that she will go out, enjoy her ice cream despite the possibility of being photographed either by a bunch of iPhones or a pap.

She grabs her bag, then walks downstairs, finding Thea already in her stroller with her bag strapped on it and Harry on his knees, trying to get her shoes on.

“Teddy,” he sighs, seemingly not finding this task enjoyable with the child waving her feet around. “You’ve to wear your shoes, darling. Look,” he gets on his feet again, and lifts his leg. “Daddy’s wearing his shoes.”

“What’s going on?” She walks over to them, and smiles when Thea murmurs ‘mummy’.

“She doesn’t want to wear her shoes.”

“Try the pink ones, they were on the coffee table,” she smiles at his face.

He frowns, but still goes to grab the pink Converses on the coffee table.

The little child wears them with no problem. Harry laughs, she does, too.

“Got all of us wrapped around your finger, don’t you, Teddy?”

After numerous ‘dada’s, they wear their coats, and walk outside.

She suggests the ice cream shop down the street and Harry agrees, and he asks if he can push her stroller in which she responds, be my guest. It’s easy, walking down the street together, not getting any looks because most of her neighbours know them by now, and aren’t unfamiliar with Harry’s celebrity status. When they arrive at the little cafe selling her favourite ice cream, Harry doesn’t even ask before going in, and leaves them outside by the wooden benches as she takes a seat, and turns to Thea, finding her looking around and trying to adjust to the light.

He comes back with two cones, chocolate and lemon for you, I got vanilla and caramel for myself. She can’t help the soaring feeling in her chest, heart beating faster because he’s so sure of himself, of knowing what she likes despite them not doing this in a long, long time.

He sits on the other side of the bench, and turns Thea’s stroller a tad so he can see her clearly. Thea looks around, then at her dad, seemingly finding the ice cream interesting as she tries to reach for it.

“Want ice cream, Teddy?” Harry asks, laughing. “Here,” he says, getting the cone closer to her. She opens her mouth, and touches her lips to the ice cream, face instantly turning into a frown like she’s just bitten into something sour.

They both laugh, and she notices how he’s been filming the whole thing on his phone.

“Guess ice cream is not for you, bug.”

“She’s missing out, that’s for sure,” she murmurs, licking her ice cream.

Harry copies her, and licks more of his ice cream. “Do you remember when she was born, you had a bad dream and almost didn’t want me to hold her?” He smiles at her.

She snorts, remembering the story. “I do. I was so mean to you.”

“You were. I almost believed I did something bad.”

“You did! You stole her and went to live in Italy with a trophy wife,” she murmurs, licking more.

Harry laughs, Thea does too. “Good times, eh?”

“Definitely.”

She looks around, and notices a couple of teen girls looking at them with each holding a cone of ice cream in hand. They make eye contact, and the brunette one immediately gasps and turns to her friend, Y/N swiftly turning her gaze to Thea. She turns the stroller so no one can take a look at Thea from the side, and looks up at Harry.

“There’s a couple of people– think they recognised you,” she murmurs, looking down at her ice cream.

Harry looks up, then looks around, and then back down at Thea. “I’m sorry,” he mumbles. “Do you want to leave?”

“No, I don’t think so… it’s just that– I don’t want them to take photos of Thea.”

He looks at the girls again. “I’ll go talk to them, how’s that sound?” He licks once more, attempting to get up.

She nods. “Okay.”

Harry gets up, strokes Thea’s cheek one last time before he makes his way over to the girls who are by the door, still not making any move to go into the shop. She turns around, not wanting to make eye contact with any of them, and Thea starts babbling something, making her giggle into her ice cream. When she steals a glance at Harry, she notices him nodding, and he finally waves at them before turning around and walking over them with a small smile.

He sits back down, adjusts Thea’s sun canopy, and turns to her. “You good?” He asks, licking the last bits of his ice cream. He bites into his cone as she nods.

“Yeah. What– what did you say to them? I’m sorry if it was awkward I just– I worry,” she looks down at the wooden table.

“Y/N,” Harry says, waiting for her to look up at him. When she does, he sends her a big smile, dimples much like Theadora’s, and shrugs. “It wasn’t awkward at all. I know you worry– I do, too. You don’t need to apologise, I sorted it out.”

“Okay… okay, yeah,” she exhales. “Thank you for the ice cream.”

The smile gets bigger. “Thank you for coming with me. I… I missed hanging out like this. Just the three of us,” he says, voice laced with honey.

She looks up as a cloud passes above them, all the remaining sun disappearing behind it, though it’s gone, she still feels all warm inside and outside, cheeks extremely hot to touch– if she were to touch them, and ears feeling like they’re on fire. And, looking at him, she knows it’s all because of him– because of his sweet words. She doesn’t know if it’s permanent, them three, sitting peacefully like this– or whether their ‘love’ had a trial run. She doesn’t know anything, though she can’t help but let herself feel all these good and warm feelings, letting her heart soar with happiness and love– love towards this beautiful, beautiful man.

She nods, looking down. “I did, too.”

They walk back home in silence, only Theadora talking at times and Harry responding in the same enthusiasm, and when she unlocks the door to her flat, Harry follows close behind without a word. He takes his shoes off, and watches in the corner as she does the same. Without saying anything, he grabs Thea from her stroller, and waits for Y/N to make a move so he can, too. She does, and walks inside, putting Thea’s bag in the corner before walking into the kitchen.

“Tea?” She calls out to Harry. Sure.

After putting the kettle on, she walks back out, and watches as Harry helps Thea with her favourite blocks. She gets bored, though, and walks over to her crayons. Harry asks where she keeps the papers, and she gives them some blank ones before walking to the sofa, and she sits down, watching with a smile on her face as they try to draw a tree, then a flower, then a tiara.

Harry’s phone buzzes, and he taps it twice, then looks up, finding her gaze.

“What is it?” She murmurs, noticing the hesitation in his gaze.

“It’s Jeff.”

Of course it is, she wants to say.

She doesn’t.

“What is it?” She repeats. “What happened,” she says, heart starting to beat faster than usual.

Jeff usually didn’t bring good news with him. She loved him, of course she did, but she knew it was work before friendship in most cases.

Harry swallows. “Someone posted a picture of me– just me,” he adds swiftly. “But, I think the girl who took the picture– she said you guys were with me.”

She doesn’t say anything for a while– just watches Theadora work the paper with a pink crayon with parted mouth. When she looks up, she notices the fear in Harry’s eyes.

“Okay,” she nods, voice in a whisper. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Yeah. Okay. Whatever.”

He clears his throat. “Are you– are you angry? I can try and get it removed– the tweet, I mean. I mean– I doubt it’d work but–”

“–Harry, it’s okay,” she cuts him off, ending his suffering. “It’s always bound to happen. At least– there’s no pictures of Thea… right?”

“No. None.”

“Okay, good– that’s good.”

“I’m sorry, Y/N,” Harry murmurs, playing with a green crayon. “I know how much this all worries you.”

It did. It truly did, but she doesn’t think Harry is to blame. He offered, she accepted. She chose to go, knowing what would or could happen, but she still chose to go. Because she wanted to.

“I wanted to go,” she says. “You asked, and I said yes knowing there’s always a possibility of being recognised. You’re not– you don’t need to apologise. I know,” she sighs. “I made you feel bad for it at the time, acted like it’s all your fault– but I know you can’t help it at times. I– don’t really want to talk about the past right now…”

“Yeah,” he nods, a small smile appearing on his face. “Yeah, I get it.”

“I’ll go make tea.”

“Yeah– okay.”

Their tea is gone in minutes, Thea is fed and changed, and on top of that, Harry manages to put her down for a nap before she hears him walking downstairs, and she walks into the living room, finding his hair sticking out in every direction.

“What happened?” She laughs, crossing her leg over the other on the sofa.

“It took me a while, but she’s down.”

She smiles. “Thanks for that, by the way. I unloaded the dishwasher and put something in the oven–”

“–Was I gone for that long?”

“No,” she says, laughing. “It’s frozen lasagna,” she says, pursing her lips when he cringes. “Sorry?”

“Nah, you’re all right. I– I should probably get going,” he murmurs, playing with the string of his hoodie. She watches the movements of his fingers, then looks up at his eyes.

“You– I mean, you don’t need to.”

“Y/N?”

“Yeah?”

“I know we said we’re taking this slow,” he murmurs, looking down at his lap.

She looks at him. “Yeah?”

“I would– really like to kiss you right now.”

“Oh.”

He looks up. “I’m sorry–”

“–No,” she shakes her head, then continues. “No, it’s okay. I guess… you can kiss me.”

And, he does.

He surges forward, and locks their lips in a mouth-bruising kiss. It starts off as rushed and aggressive, though it becomes slow, gentle, and his kisses take form into little pecks on her lips, kissing the corners of her mouth before locking them once more, tongue swiping across her bottom lip. She opens her mouth, feeling brave, and their tongues touch, all wet and warm before he returns to pecking. She laughs into the kiss, making him laugh, too, and it becomes all messy and wet at the same time before she has to pull away from his kisses and place her forehead against his, hand immediately going up to his neck.

“What,” he laughs, eyes still shut.

She shakes her head, still giggling, heart beating like crazy. “I feel like we shouldn’t have done that,” she whispers, and he touches her nose with his.

“Why’s that?” he whispers back, nose still touching hers.

“This is not taking things slow.”

“That was a slow-paced kiss, right?”

“Stop,” she murmurs. “That is not how it works.”

“How does it work?” Harry asks, finally opening his eyes and looking into hers.

“I– I don’t know.”

He nods, placing his hand on hers that is still on his neck.

They’re quiet for a moment before he breaks it with a smile.

“We’re gonna figure it out together.”

#theadora #harry styles #harry styles x reader #harry styles smut #harry styles x y/n #ex husband!harry #harry styles imagine #harry styles concept #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic rec #harry styles x you #harry styles blurb #harry styles angst #1d

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Text

he’s so vogue

Description - you are the journalist for the new Harry Styles December Vogue Issue

A/N - how is everyone doing? hope you enjoy! if you have any requests please feel free to ask. love you all and have a lovely rest of the week!

warnings: swearing

[masterlist]

Being a journalist for Vogue was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

After 3 years of studying English Literature at Surrey University, you never thought, only a year after, you'd be working as an apprentice at Vogue UK. If it weren't for your Aunty, who worked in the fashion design section at Vogue HQ, then you'd no doubt still be a broke-ass, single, lonely student. Ok, lonely you still were but your job was so full-on that you didn't have time for a relationship.

Two years into your apprenticeship you were promoted to an official member of the team, and then another two years later you got promoted to team leader in your department of journalism, and editing; The Media - or as you like to call it - "The Celeb Goss". You were beyond happy with your job and found such passion in every article your wrote. Whether it be about a new celebrity romance or the collapse of one, you found a way to story-tell in such a meditated way that everyone loved your pieces.

That's why the Harry Styles had requested you to be the one to interview him.

Of course you'd written about A-list celebrities in the past, producing articles on pregnancy rumours, or engagements, or breakups, but you'd never met them before authoring an article. You'd met plenty of D-list celebrities who thought they were mega famous, but if you mentioned their names people would turn around and ask "who?".

This is why interviewing Harry Styles was a massive thing for you.

Not very often did you get to do work out in the field, especially in these covid infested days, but nevertheless it was your favourite part of the job. Getting to meet the people you were writing about was completely refreshing, allowing you to obtain a clearer outlook on which direction to take on your journal piece.

You were asked to go to Stonehenge, where the photoshoot was being filmed, as your office of interview. Even though you'd lived in the UK all your life, you'd never actually been to Stonehenge. It wasn't really on your bucket-list, but it was a pleasure to get to see it all the same.

Being the prepared interviewer you were, you'd prepared an array of questions that you were set on asking Harry. You'd never met him before, but after much googling and youtubing of him prior to meeting him today you would already be confident in saying he's the most brilliant man to ever exist. You were really nervous that you were going to screw this interview up and make a terrible mess in front of Harry Styles.

"Lisa! What if I accidentally say something I shouldn't?" You ran your stressed hands through your hair.

This whole morning had been frantic. It had started off by you waking up late, no thanks to Lisa, your best-friend and co-worker, pressing snooze on the alarm. You wanted to look professional today so you'd put on your best shirt - only to spill coffee down it ten minutes later. So now, you smelt of coffee and were wearing what was left in your wardrobe - and it wasn't much. The only things left clean were a pair of pink corduroy flares and some, pastel coloured, graphic t-shirt to go with it.

"You won't. Stop being so negative." Lisa rolled her eyes, probably fed up with the amount of winging she'd heard from you this morning - and you'd only been awake an hour.

"My outfit is hardly professional either." You huffed, pouring the rest of your, second, coffee down the drain.

"Well I think you look gorgeous." Lisa stated, whilst putting her breakfast bar wrapper in the bin.

You and Lisa were back and forth about you stressing, and such, for about half an hour before you had to leave. You had a great panic about losing your glasses too. You could see without them up close, but for long distance viewing and reading you were practically blind. You were taking Lisa's car, since she didn't think you were emotionally stable enough to drive. Lisa was the creative director on the set, and thank goodness she was so you could at least ramble to someone.

After a two hour drive up from London, you arrived at Stonehenge and it was freezing. Although the sun was out, it did nothing to keep your body heated. The journey up had been nice because you sat in your nicely heated car, chatting away with Lisa and blasting some Harry Styles out of the speaker. You'd made it through the first album, and the second one up to Canyon Moon before reaching your destination.

Upon arriving you could just about, without glasses, make out about 15 other cars, arranged at the bottom of a hill. There was an array of Audis and BMWs, a few Range Rovers, which you placed your bets on one was Harrys, and a green, vintage, Jaguar which was most likely belonging to the fashion editor or something. There was also a modern barn, perched at the foot of the hill, which was where Harry would be getting changed in to his various different outfits.

It took you a moment to register that Lisa had parked and was already clambering out of the car, making you look a little idiotic still blankly staring at the beautiful scenes in front, and around, of you.

But it was still bloody freezing.

You jogged a little to the boot and whipped out your white cardigan. Originally you'd thought that this would've been enough to keep you warm, but now you were starting to think otherwise.

The atmosphere here was amazing. People were rushing around left, right and centre loading, and unloading, various pieces of equipment and clothes. You caught sight of brightly coloured fabrics being carried to and from various places. There were the camera crew, and presumably director, all chatting amongst themselves. The smell of the very fresh air was so lush that you'd forgotten what it smelt like - especially after years in London.

You grabbed your bag from the boot, which had your notes, recording kit and laptop stuffed inside, before locking the car and following Lisa in to the barn.

It was lovely and warm inside - a completely different climate to than the outside. It was as if it was Bali inside and Antarctica outside. Better Bali than Antarctica though.

"Ok. Let's put our stuff down over here and then go find people we need to meet and such." Lisa instructed, you still too in awe of the place to fully comprehend what was going on.

You followed Lisa and you two ended up dropping off your stuff next to some other bags. You took a liking to the purse next to your stuff. Next to your bag, it made yours seem ancient - like it was worth nothing more than a penny. It was luscious and a beautiful baby blue colour. You softly ran your hands over it, finding satisfaction in how smooth and subtle it was.

"Hope you're not planning on stealing that, love." A manly voice appeared from behind you. You whipped around to see who's bag you'd been messing with, and it was just your luck that it was to be Harry Styles'. Of all the people's it could've been it had to be his.

Perfect.

He looked dashing. He was in black flares and his iconic 'But daddy i love him', t-shirt, along with a huge green anorak. His hair was prettily clipped back with a pink clip, presumably placed there to gave his curls greater volume. In his hand he had a pink toothbrush and you guessed he'd come back over to put it away in his bag - only to find you caressing it instead.

"Oh - no, no. Not at all. I - uh - I just thought it was beautiful." You stammered over your words, choosing them carefully to try and make you look less like an active criminal.

"Mhm." Harry nodded whilst looking you up and down, most likely judging why a peasant like you, in comparison to him, was touching his expensive property. "Well, I love your flares darlin'." Harry looked down at your trousers, his compliment making you blush a little.

"Thank you. That wasn't professional, and neither is my outfit, I know, and I apologise." You added, because you knew that if your boss knew you turned up today the way you did she would give you a right bollocking - and potentially even fire you.

"Never apologise for flares. You look amazing." Gemma perked up, making you feel more self conscious surrounded by all these other beautiful women. Gemma was in a slouchy, knitted, jumper and basic jeans - no doubt all from shops beyond your budget - and yet she looked like a model fit for the runway for Vogue.

"Okay, sorry." You apologised again, to which you, creepily, got the exact same, stern, look from the Styles siblings at the same time.

"My stylist, Harry, introduced me to big pants. He offered whether I wanted to try a pair of flares, and I was like, 'Flares? That's fucking crazy'!" Harry laughed as he told his story, earning a laugh out of you too. "Now they're my favourite item of clothing. Have a whole wardrobe dedicated to them."

"I wish he was joking." Gemma laughed at her brother and his flare obsession.

"Well you do look handsome in them, so I understand why." Your words rolls off your tongue before you could even comprehend what you were saying. Only after you finished your sentence did you completely intake what you'd just said.

"Good start." Lisa giggled to you, before turning to walk over to the coffee station. It was a help-yourself coffee bar and you knew that you were going to bed at least five cups to get over the last five minutes alone. You'd probably drain the station before letting anyone else have any.

"Oh god." You awkwardly mumbled, not daring to see how weirdly Harry would be looking at you, before walking off outside.

You had spent less than 10 minutes here and yet you'd never felt like a bigger clown. Joining the circus had never been so easy.

The outside wind hit you like a powerful leaf blower, and your hair blew around like crazy - most likely compiling into a birds nest on the top of your head.

Today was supposed to be the start of something great. Your hopes were set on a promotion from your written masterpiece, whilst enjoying the company of one of the most handsome, most lovely, most talented men of this century. Those hopes seemed a little too distant now. They seemed to mock you, as if to laugh at how you ever thought you were going to be any more successful. You'd completely, in more ways than one, made a fool of yourself in front of your interviewee, you were so underdressed, you were caught fondling his Gucci purse and you were still bloody cold.

It all felt too unprofessional for a job where professional was practically the driving force of the company.

You leaned against the barn, taking a deep breath to try and calm yourself. You were a master in over-thinking, but unfortunately that wasn't something you could add to your resumé. You let your eyes close and the other senses come alive for a few moments. The sounds of distant sheep and the smell of the cold wind were just two of the senses that allowed you to take a step back for a minute, and breathe.

"Thank you." A voice interrupted you from your attempt of quick meditation. You looked to your left and noticed Harry standing there, still in the same outfit as before.

"I'm sorry?" You asked confused, taking a step away from the barn to considerately pay more attention to him.

"Thank you - for saying I look handsome in flares." He repeated, smirking when he added the second part.

"Oh." Was all you could respond, feeling too embarrassed to take the conversation any further. "I should—" You pointed back to the barn, using it as an excuse to leave before yet screwed up anymore.

"Lisa told me you're the interviewer." Harry added, and it only occurred to you that you'd never actually introduced yourself. "So it's lovely to finally meet you Y/N." He stuck out his hand for your to shake, which you did willingly. His hands were a lot softer than you'd expected.

"Ho... You know my name?" You asked surprised.

"Of course. I also know you're the best writer in Vogue right now." He flattered you, which made you blush. You had a feeling he'd make you do that a lot today.

"Sure." You rolled your eyes as you spoke sarcastically.

"Well I chose you for a reason, didn't I?" He rhetorically asked.

"I mean.. I, well.. I don't know?" You stumbled over your words, making yourself look like a larger fool than you did already. Today was just turning out to be exactly what you didn't want it to be. "Sorry."

"Stop apologising. You do it too often." He told you, nearly making you apologise again but he gave you a jokingly stern look, as if he knew what you were going to say, and so you decided otherwise.

"Harry!" You both turned to see there was a man waving towards you both, but specifically to Harry. "Come get changed!" The same man shouted. Harry lifted his thumbs up, as if to signal he'd be there shortly.

Harry turned back to you and noticed you shiver a little.

"I'll start the interview after I come back from the dressing rooms, yeah?" Harry asked, taking off his, khaki green, trench-coat in the process. He handed it to you before you could oblige against it.

"Wait what?" You confusedly looked down at the coat and back up to Harry.

"Gives me a piece of mind knowing my interviewer isn't going to die of hypothermia before actually interviewing me." He smiled, obviously attempting to crack a joke and you have to admit you did laugh.

"Thank you." You say, before he runs off to where he's being called to.

••••

You'd been sat inside for a little while, waiting for Harry to come back. It gave you time to perfect your questions though.

Thinking up questions to ask Harry had been a challenging task, but one that you'd been fully invested in. You loved creating questions to ask him that were going to get to understand him on a deeper level. He was a very private man, and you completely respected that. If you crossed any boundaries, with the questions you'd ask, you would write them out of the interview. You liked to think you hadn't thought up a question that would make him feel uncomfortable though.

Pissing off Harry would be on another level of shame.

"Coat kept you warm?" Harrys voice disengaged you from your notebook.

"Hm?" You asked then replayed what he'd just asked in your mind. "Oh, yes. Thank you very much." You stood up, from where you'd been perched on the floor, picking up your nearly finished green tea as you did so.

Only when you stood up did it come to your realisation that Harry was now in costume. He was dressed in luxury. Each item looked like it cost more than your rent, and that was saddening. He looked rich and luxurious. To be quite honest, you were finding it rather difficult to take your eyes off him.

"You think the outfit is Vogue enough?" Harry asked, striking a few poses, which made you laugh. It was refreshing to see him act so relaxed and carefree, rather than a stuck-up-prick you knew some celebrities to be.

"Completely. I love it!" You exclaimed, appreciating the twirl he did for you.

He was wearing a kilt-like skirt and he looked beyond beautiful in it. Fuck toxic masculinity. Fuck being a manly man - like what does that even mean? Harry was embracing gender fluidity and experimenting the ways in which there was no definitive line between men and women's clothes anymore, and you thought it was marvellous. Revolutionary, for times as politically and socially troubled as these.

You started removing the coat in attempt to give it back to him, but he refrained you from doing so by holding on to your forearm.

"Keep it. I thought we could go outside to start the interview, so you'll be needing that." Harry told you, and you agreed - however reluctantly that was. You couldn't really complain though, because the coat did kept you warm and, what's better, it smelt divine - just like you'd imagine Harry to smell.

"Okay. Thank you. Do you want to go now?" You asked hesitantly, not knowing whether he was busy for someone else right now.

"Whenever you're ready, love." He answered, making you feel more relaxed. He was going at your pace and was making you feel settled - he was even more of a gentleman than people described him to be.

The two of you had walked around the backside of the barn in silence, enjoying the comfort of each other's presence. Well, at least you were. It was a blessing no one was back here. It was just you, Harry and the scenery that surrounded Stonehenge.

You approached a bench and you plopped yourself down on one end, whilst Harry sat on the other. He respected the fact that there was a pandemic going on, and didn't want to make you uncomfortable in any way. You still had your mask on, so Harry had taken that as you were very conscious about the virus - which he admired.

You pulled out your glasses, from the depths of one of the coat pockets, and placed them on your face, probably making yourself look even geekier than you already felt. Today was just one of those days you wished you had good eyes...

You opened your spent notebook, musty pages practically falling apart, and turned to the section of questions you needed for that interview. You were so nervous already and you hadn't even asked anything yet, all because of the previous interactions with Harry today. Your shaky hands shuffled through the pages and you cursed under your breath when you struggled to find what you needed.

"Shoot. Come on." You mumbled quietly under your breath, hoping it would make this terrible situation end faster. You mustn't have been as quiet as you thought though.

"Y/N." Harry's name broke through your clouded mind of self-disappointment.

You looked up at him to see him softly smiling at you, blowing all worries away from you away with the wind. "Yes?" You timidly asked, pushing your wind-swept hair out of glasses - where it'd gotten caught.

"You’re alright, love. You don't have to be professional around me, alright? We're just two strangers having a conversation, to get to know each other, okay?" If his words didn't calm you enough, the soothing sound of his husky voice certainly did.

"But that would mean you asking me stuff too?" You replied, confused at his implications of the phrasing 'getting to know each other'.

"Mhm." Harry nodded his head.

"Oh I don't know Mr Styles, i'm not a very interesting person." You answered as if it were the most obvious thing in the world, pushing your glasses back up the bridge of your nose from where they'd fallen.

"I refuse to believe that." Harry chuckled, making a quick smile appear on your face. "And please call me Harry. Just Harry." He begged, obviously finding it weird you calling him by his professional title. All you wanted, ever, was for your interviewee's to feel comfortable and safe, so if Harry wanted you to call him Harry then so be it.

"Ok, Harry," you sarcastically said, earning a shake of the head on his behalf, "you can ask me a few questions throughout the day." You told him, but you knew he'd struggle to find even two questions when he realises how bland you are.

"Does that mean you only get to ask me a few as well?" Harry smirked, already knowing the answer to that question. Unlike Harry, you had to write an article about today when you got home and so he knew that you'd have to dig as much dirt as possible from him.

"No, sorry. I don't particularly want to lose my job." You paused to look down at your notes, squinting a little as you did to see better. "Okay. Tell me your experience with corona virus."

"Sorry I didn't quite catch that, love." Harry apologised, leaning in slightly to see if he could hear you a second time around.

"Sorry." You looked down to fiddle with your fingers - a habit you'd undertaken when you're embarrassed. "Um..," you cleared your throat, "would you mind if I took off my mask?"

Your timid voice sent tingle down Harrys spine. He didn't think anyone could ever be this sweet. "Not at all, ‘course you can." He replied, again, wanting to make you feel as comfortable as possible.

You hesitantly took off your face mask, feeling like you were in some dramatic movie where they face revealed someone. You kind of liked having the mask on, because, for one, it kept you warm, and for two, you were a little self conscious with how you looked compared to all the other women here today. You shoved the mask in your pocket, with trembling fingers, before looking back down to your notes.

"Woah." You heard Harrys voice being mumbled under the wind. You eyes shot up to his and you noticed him staring right back at you.

"W-what? Is my acne playing up? I knew I should've—" You self-consciously run your hands over the areas you know you got acne. The masks really didn't help when it came to skin care.

"Hey, stop. No. You just... You look beautiful." Harry complimented you, and a roaring blush arose on to your cheeks. You'd never been called beautiful before, and so you were taking the compliment like such a 13-year old.

"Oh, uh, thank you." You awkwardly answered, not really having any other words come to mind in that moment. Harry chuckled under his breath, still keeping eyes on you for some reason.

"Would you mind repeating your last question, I didn't quite catch it?" Harry asked politely.

"Sure. Um, tell me how you've experienced corona virus." You repeated for him, gripping ahold of your pen to start copying what he says and pressing start on your recording device in case you needed it later.

"Well, it's been tedious that's for sure. However, I just want people to be safe and for life to return back to normal, so therefore i've been very MIA for a lot of the time. Keeping to myself mostly. I only went out for hikes or bike rides. All my meetings were online, so it's been very lonely." Harry kept eye contact with your figure the entire time, and if it weren't for you concentrating on writing what he was saying then you'd probably melt away under his gaze.

For such soft eyes he sure was intimidating.

"I presume the loneliness sent you crazy at times." You laughed, because you sure felt that way through lockdown. Curse being single.

"You have no idea." Harry laughed along with you, making you, slowly, feel more at ease.

"Actually, you'd be surprised." You looked at him unsure, before returning down to your notebook.

"Okay then, first question from me," Harrys words made your head shoot up, "How can someone as amazing as yourself be lonely?" He asked and you made a mental tally of how many questions he'd asked.

"Could ask you the very same question, Harry." You slyly replied, avoiding the question by answering with another question. It was a tactic you'd learnt, throughout your years of journalism, when you wanted to dismiss something .

"That's cheating." Harry pointed at you and raised his eyebrows, but you couldn't take your eyes off the big, cheeky, smile perched on his face. You shrugged you're shoulders in defence and returned to your questions. "But you did just call me amazing, so I think i'll let it slide this one time." You blushed, again, when you understood what he meant.

He was amazing though - that was the truth.

"You were in L.A. for the majority of quarantine, am I right to say?" You already knew the answer but your manager had just wanted confirmation.

"Yeah, but L.A. feels like holiday, whereas London feels like home." He answered, which you appreciated. He hasn't got lost in the way that Hollywood could let people. He'd stayed grounded.

"So what did you entertain yourself with during quarantine?" You asked curiously, slightly side-tracking from your pre-written questions - just because you were intrigued (nosey).

"Not much, not to be boring. I ate a lot of bread. I worked out pretty much every day. I wrote quite a bit actually." He used his fingers to pinch his bottom lip, something you'd noticed he did in interviews.

"Does that mean a new album on the way?" Your inner fangirl was screaming at the thought of HS3.

"Can neither confirm nor deny." Harry smirked to himself, like the cheeky bugger he is.

"That's a yes then." You joked, pretending to write it down in your notes.

"You're impossible, you." Harry laughed and shook his head. It made you feel all funny the way you could make him smile like that. You were the source of his happiness for just that moment, and that was enough to make you feel happy for a lifetime - not that he felt the same.

"Next question," you stated, moving swiftly on because you knew you had limited time, "How's your experience with Vogue been so far?"

"Wonderful. Everyone has been so welcoming and that makes it so much easier for me to have fun. It's daunting going at things alone, but i'm getting slowly used to it now." Harry sniffled a little, probably due to the freezing cold weather here.

"Must be strange, not having four best friends around you, all the time, anymore." You stated rather than asked him, sure that he was missing his bandmates. I mean, you were - so he definitely would be.

"Brothers." Harry replied, making you look up at him confused.

"I'm sorry?" You asked, giving him your full attention.

"You said four best friends. Well, actually they're my brothers." His words actually caused a rift in your heart. You could feel it being pulled apart and torn in to two. If you wrote this in to the magazine the fans would have a worldwide passing-away-party.

"Harry." You said softly, slightly tearing up at his words. "God, I swear i'm not normally this emotional." You chest your throat and try to establish your dignity - however there wasn't that much left anymore.

"Oh shut up." Harry looked away obviously trying to hide the fact that he was tearing up too. You laughed at him but didn't draw any more attention to it than you guessed he would've wanted.

"They mean a lot to you then?" You asked, hopefully not treading on any unwanted territories.

"Much more than a lot, yeah." Harry nodded his head, turning it back to face you. He could tell this conversation was now off-the-record because of your closed notebook, your undivided attention towards him and the fact you’d turned off the recording device. He liked being able to look at you, rather than the top of your head. He swore you were the prettiest girl he'd ever seen.

"You still see them often?"

"Not as often as i'd like. Niall did come around the other week to drop off some old guitars he didn't want anymore, and then we ended up playing around with some music for a bit." He admitted, which stitched your heart back together.

"So does that mean a Narry collab?" You teased, biting your bottom lip in anticipation.

"Narry? You so are a directioner." He laughed along with you.

"And you just avoided my question, therefore there is a song out there written only by you and Niall." You concluded, which shut him up.

This conversation was going a lot better than expected. Certainly a lot better than earlier. You will be permanently scarred by the way you spoke to him and handled his belongings. It was going to haunt you forever - and yet he'd forget about it by tomorrow. Or maybe he wouldn't, which is why you felt the need to apologise.

"Harry?" You asked, clearly indicating this was still a conversation away from the interview.

"Yes Y/N?" He watched you intently, listening to your every word.

"I, um, just wanted to apologise for my behaviour earlier. I was just really nervous to meet you, and to be honest still am. I didn't mean to touch your stuff without your consent and I certainly didn't mean to make you uncomfortable with any of my comments. So, i'm sorry. I can only imagine the awful, yet true, things you must think of me." You rambled really quickly, that you were uncertain whether Harry even caught one word of what you'd says.

"Do you know why I asked for you to interview me Y/N?" Harry asked, which wasn't the first thing you expected him to say after your apology.

"No. I...well Lisa told me it was because I can write well or something." You suggested, not wanting to sound egotistical.

"I mean you do write perfectly, but no." You were intrigued now. "I asked for you because I, and this is not for your magazine, have a secret - but not-so-secret - crush on you." This time it was Harrys turn to blush.

"Harry... you don't have to say that to—"

"I'm not saying it for anything. I sincerely think you are the most delightful, most prettiest, most fucking sweetest person i've ever met." Harry exclaimed, which you were taken aback by. Never, ever, did you think that Harry Styles would proclaim his likeness towards you. Ever.

"Harry don't mess with me, please." You shyly spoke, tilting your head down in disbelief that the Harry Styles was smitten about you.

He shuffled along the bench, stopping a little way from you but close enough to reach out for you. Your heartbeat increased when you noticed his hand move closer towards you. It didn't stop till he reached your face. He took his time, courteously, pushing your hair behind your ear before removing you of your glasses. He held the right-eye frame and slowly pulled the glasses off your face.

Once he'd successfully taken them off he folded them up and placed them alongside your closed notebook.

"Can see those pretty eyes now." He whispered quietly, but loud enough for you to hear.

"Don't lie. They're so dull." You mumbled, lifting your head up slightly. His face was still away from you.

"Not to me they're not." He retaliated, looking deep into your eyes as you did his. "I hate this corona virus."

"Why?" His words were so out of the blue sometimes, it gave you whiplash.

"Because I can't be as near to you as I want to be." Harry told you. And yeah, you hated corona too. It was getting a little laborious now.

"Smooth, Styles." You chuckled. You wondered how many new and weird pick-up lines could be made from covid.

"I know." He winked, which honestly would have made you throw up if it were any other man on the planet. Somehow, though, Harry just made it seem attractive - along with every other thing that man ever did. "After this, would you like to come back to my house for a cuppa tea?" He asked sweetly, like a five year old asking whether you wanted to play together.

"Okay. Lisa was my ride though." You said more to yourself than anything else, debating on how you'd even get to Harrys. Uber? Taxi? Lisa? Walk?

"I'll drive us, it's fine. I have to drop Gem off, but i'd be more than happy to chauffeur you." Harry kindly offered, to which you were internally screaming about. You were literally, and metaphorically, having a field-day with all this Harry content and interview.

"Are you sure? I don't want to be a burden." You question politely, not wanting to overstep any boundaries - especially in these covid infested times.

"Of course. I wouldn't have offered otherwise." He protested, waving his hand at if to say it was no bother. You were already trying to work out, in your head, how much petrol money you were going to owe him.

"Then i'd be honoured to have a brew with you Harry." You giggled at how cringe you were being, even if this was just your normal self speaking.

"Great." Harry genuinely smiled, teeth and all. "My shoot should take a couple of hours, but feel free to continue to write and journal. I'm looking forward to reading this particular article." He winked at you before standing up.

"Wonder why?" You sarcastically asked, knowing full-well it was due to his exposure of his own feelings towards you. Even though you'd never says anything back you were quite in agreement on how you felt about him, like he did you. He would be a narcissist to say he knew you liked him the same, out loud, but he knew. And you knew that he knew.

"Wonder why indeed." He gave you one last smile before he'd disappeared for the rest of the afternoon, leaving you to digest and relive the past half an hour or so.

Being Harry Styles' crush was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

••••

After Harry had finished up his shoot he was quick to come find you again.

You'd watched parts of his shoot and he looked magnificent. There wasn't a good enough word to describe how amazing he looked. Harry, his stylist, was probably the best stylist out there. His fashion choices were unmatched and you wanted him to be yours. You were not rich enough nor fashionable enough, ironic for working in a a fashion company, to hire a stylist, but you would if you could.

You were so proud to see what he was achieving now as the person that he was. Harry was just being Harry, without the devilish control of shitty managements or ridiculous amounts of PR stunts. Harry was more free than ever, and it definitely showed just how much he was enjoying it.

You were certain that this Vogue magazine would break the internet - his fans were good at doing that. This could be a turning point for many people, with their outdated and ignorant views. There was no room for people with racist or homophobic or transphobic or xenophobic - and the list does go on - views anymore.

You were waiting by the front door of the barn, to catch Harry as he walked past. You caught sight of him in a white robe, presumably to get changed back into his everyday clothes. He looked really pretty in the robe - very domestic actually.

Today had been a good day.

Harry asked you to send over the more specific Vogue questions to him via email, so he could devote more time in to answering them in a lot more depth. You thought he meant you'd be sending them to some PA in his team, but you were shocked to understand he'd given you his personal email.

People were walking back to their cars and packing away the filming kit. You saw Lisa and the director talking to one another, no doubt discussing some in-work gossip.

"You ready?" Harrys voice reminded you that you'd been waiting for him. You looked to see he was back in the same clothes as this morning, only this time without his coat.

"Here?" You offered, having him over the coat once again but he declined.

"Looks better on you anyways." He winked at you, before walking through the car park and to his car. You were very surprised when you found out Harry was the one to own the green Jaguar. You assumed all celebrities drove the Range Rover, but no. The vintage car added to Harrys immaculate vibe and just made him that little bit more hot.

Harry properly introduced you to Gemma, who was equally as lovely as Harry. They were both amazing people and they were crazily alike. From the way they looked, down to the way they phrased their words, they were mistakingly twins. Gemma explained how Anne, their mum, didn't know they were doing this photoshoot and that it was going to be a surprise, which you thought was so cute.

Gemma spilt a lot of gossip on Harry, to which he got very embarrassed over. You learnt that Harrys first word was Cat. You learnt that Harry is godfather to multiple children, which you found heartwarming. You learnt Harry used to be a baker - which was something he elaborated on for a good half an hour. Harry was just a fountain of memories and Gemma was the one sharing them all with you.

The drive back to London was relaxed. You sat in the back, listening to Harry and Gemma pointlessly argue whilst an Arctic Monkeys album played in the background. You forgot that people like Harry drove, and listened to music, just like other regular people. You often misplaced celebrities in society, thinking they had everything done for them but in reality that (often) wasn't the case - at least not for Harry.

Gemma was dropped off quickly before Harry drove to his. It was no surprise that the Styles siblings didn't live too far away from each other. Harrys house was beautiful. Bigger than anything you could ever dream of buying. It was a palace compared to your cupboard-sized house. You were unbelievably jealous. He gave you the tour of the house, showing you where the toilets were, and even his panic room if necessary.

You migrated to the kitchen for a bit, talking about anything and everything. Getting to know the minuscule pieces of information that no-one else was trusted with, made you feel special. Harry made you feel special - even if he weren't meaning to.

Every moment held a spark. Every touch set off a firework. Every laugh was an electric burst. He made you feel so alive.

"We can go to the living room after this has boiled." Harry said, pointing towards the streaming kettle. He wanted to show off his fancy tea collection he had, and let you have a try if you wanted to. Harry was boring and chose the basic green tea, but, after much deliberation, you chose the cranberry green tea. It intrigued you and it sounded delicious.

"Why the extensive tea collection?" Not even you, a certified caffeine addict, had this much tea in your house. Coffee was a different story and one in which you didn't want to talk about.

"They help me with my meditation." He took the teabags and placed them in his glass mugs. They had a delicate Gucci stamp on them, and you just imagined that they probably worth the same amount as your daily salary.

"You meditate?" You were slightly surprised that he did.

"I try to yeah." Harry nodded, focusing on pouring in the boiling water into the mugs. "I've got very tight hamstrings and so it helps if I meditate twice a day."

Harry finished making the tea, in the light-filled kitchen, before showing you around to the open-lounge area. Everything was modern and chic. It was exactly how you imagined it, but better. The open, red-brick, wall was a beautiful feature and one that you were a whore for! It reminded you of New York and the memories you'd made there one summer.

The sofa was a beautiful velvet, green, sofa. It was soft and gentle, a lot like Harry when you thought about it. The whole house was an architectural masterpiece and you'd be lying if you said you weren't jealous. You sat on one end and Harry went to go and sit on the other end.

"I don't bite you know?" You joked, self-consciously wondering whether he didn't want to be sat near you.

"I know, I just don't want to step on any of your covid boundaries - which is perfectly fine by the way." He added, apprehensively taking the spot next to you.

"No, not at all." You ushered him to sit next to you, as you took a sip from your steaming hot cup of fruity tea. "If I smell though, do tell me!"

"Yeah, you smell bloody awful!" Harry sarcastically remarked, but laughing afterwards to assure you he was joking. The atmosphere went quiet for a minute, only the sounds of passing cars and deep breaths being heard.

"Y/N can I ask you something?" Harry turned the tone of the conversation. It sounded like he wanted to be more serious than you two were being beforehand.

"Anything." You encouraged him to continue. You placed the cup of tea down on the table, deciding it was too hot to drink right now, and gave him your full attention.

"Do you believe in love at first sight?" Harry questioned. You didn't think you'd be having a conversation this intense - especially if you had different opinions - on your first day of knowing each other, but here you were.

"I believe you can love someone at first sight. I don't believe you can be in love with someone at first sight. Why?" You were curious as to how his brain had journeyed to this particular topic. You'd never really had this conversation with anyone before, mainly because you were unaware of the true power, and meaning, of love.

"It uh... It doesn't matter." Harry shook his head and you could tell by his body language that he was shutting you out. Maybe you'd made him uncomfortable.

"Sorry I didn't mean to—"

"No, no. Please don't apologise. It's just - I like you a lot more than you may think." Harry shyly told you, which made you all soft inside. He was being vulnerable and that was something you admired in a partner. You didn't just need love, affection and trust in a relationship. No. You needed vulnerability and heartbreak too, and Harry was revealing that part of him to you.

"I like you a lot more than you think too." You repeated, not because you felt bad for him but because you truly did like him a whole lot. Love was a weird yet wonderful thing, and if you were to hazard a guess you'd say you loved Harry.

You couldn't wait to be in love with him.

"Does that mean I get to crown you my girlfriend?" Harry excitedly asked. Harry happy was something that should be made a constant, and you were more than happy to be in control of that.

"At least take me out first." You bargained, wishing for nothing more than to go on a date with Harry. Where you'd go, you had no idea. Everything was closed right now and there was still the chance of becoming sick with corona, but no doubt Harry would think of something not only clever, but special.

Of course you'd love to be Harrys girlfriend. However, you wanted one more, official, opportunity to really get to know him - unprofessionally. You wanted to make sure that you knew, and he knew, that you wanted to be with him because he was the charming Harry you've come to love, not because he was Harry Styles.

"So you're allowing me to take you on a date?" Harry smirked like a little child, your heart fluttering at how excited he was to be able to treat you to dinner.

"Yes, Harry. Yes I am." You answered sweetly, offering him the cutest smile you could.

You can't believe what a turn of events today has been. You've gone from nearly writing yourself on Harrys enemy list to writing yourself on to his 'people he's dated' list. Who knows what the future would offer you. At the start of the day you had wished this whole day to end and for the ground to just swallow you up, now you never wanted it to end. It was too perfect to be true and yet it was.

Harry was the most wonderful human to exist and you were beyond surprised to be the one to catch his attention. You didn't understand why you were so special, but it was nice to feel like this for a change. It was nice to feel wanted.

••••

A few months later and you were officially Harrys girlfriend.

It had been such a crazy few months. Harry religiously took you out on dates every week. Whether it be to grab a hotdog at a local diner, a coffee from a quaint cafe, a walk in Hyde Park or a late-night drive around London - which normally ended up with you falling asleep before you could make it back to yours. On sleepless jet-lagged nights he'll still drive through London's quiet streets, seeing neighborhoods in a new way, just as an excuse to spend time with you.

Harry often stayed over at yours. Even though you looked like you lived in a shoebox compared to Harry, he liked it. He liked the subtly and normality of it all. He wanted your life to remain as normal as possible and, apart from the occasional paparazzi incident, it did. You never had anything to complain about. Of course the online bullying created emotional wounds, at the start of your relationship, but it was nothing that Harry couldn't repair with a bit of love.

Lisa has nominated herself to be maid-of-honour when the day comes - if the day comes. Harry has already pinky sworn that you are it for him. The one, as some may say. You were utterly flattered, but you certainly unsure of what the future help for you both.

You loved Harry, you do love Harry and you will forever always love Harry.

It was ridiculous to think that all this stemmed from you working at Vogue. From you studying English Literature in a city away from London. From you dedicating you extra hours gaining work experience and money to be able get in and afford university. So many moments in life have you stopped and said 'i wish i hadn't have done that', but now you were convinced that they were the best things to have happened to you - because they lead you, all, to Harry.

And, being Harry Styles girlfriend was probably the biggest flex you could ever make.

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hwrryscherry · 4 years ago

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The one where Harry and Model Y/N go undercover in the internet

characters: HARRYxMODELY/N

blurb: Harry and Model Y/N go undercover on the internet with fake accounts on TikTok and Instagram for an interview for GQ magazine on a video pre Grammys.

word count: 3.3K

HARRYxMODELY/N masterlist

author's note: HI GUYS! This is a request that I received a while ago but only finished it now because of school and all that stuff that I've told y'all a million times. Anyway, I tried my best on this request cause I think I lost my way of writing a little lol but anyway, I hope you like it and I hope that for the ones who misses Harry and Model Y/N this can be a great gift. Love y'all and thank you for the constant support and love on them💜 Stay Safe and Always remember to tpwk and that you're so golden💜💜💜

It was about 3 pm when you and Harry naturally came into the studio set on the building of GQ magazine with tender smiles on your faces covered by masks as you greeted everybody in the room in which there wasn’t many people in it. Harry was dressed in one of the many Gucci shirts he owned, with freshly washed hair that made you smell his pleasant scent from inches away just because he was wearing your favoured one and you'd always recognize it. You also detected the many rings on his fingers, including the one that you had bought for him as a 27th birthday present and by god, he was so thrilled about the ring and had a big smile on his face all day so he felt like he wanted to use it every day. Oh and how good his birthday was. You weren't able to have a party, obviously, but you still managed to celebrate somehow. In the morning, you gave him his favorite breakfast and then he, Gemma and Anne stayed on a zoom call for about an hour. You bought some yellow balloons to put in the living room just to give that birthday vibe and during the night, you had no more than four friends in your LA house, all properly protected and saved. You just ordered a few pizzas and watched some of Harry's favorite movies. It was simple but with an incredible energy, receiving a tiny group around while doing something y'all liked was everything Harry wanted most, mainly because he would have to wake up early the next day to go to the set of "Don't Worry Darling." as they were about to finish filming.

But today was another day. In earlier Febraury, the GQ magazine team reached out to your businessmen with the proposal that you and Harry would record a video together answering questions about your relationship to be published before the Grammys and after you consider whether it would be the best thing to do or not because of the many reactions you could get from it, you both agreed to do it. You’d always try to consider every little possibility when it comes to your and Harry’s relationship as the media can be very mean and disrepecftul.

Instead of Harry, you had a black miniskirt, long sleeve white blouse and a small black blazer with your Fendi plaid boots, which was Harry's personal choice for today as you’ve told him that he could chose an outfit for you to wear. You two spent a few minutes in the makeup chair doing touch-ups on your hair and makeup right before you were both ready to shoot. You walked from the makeup table to the center of the studio where you could see the crew behind the cameras and the big white background with a table and two black chairs right in the center. The table had a computer upon it only. After sitting down and having the microphones popped at you, you looked up when you heard the directors asking if you were ready and when you nod and the count is over, the camera started recording.

‘‘Hi, I'm Harry Styles!'’ You greeted the camera with a big smile on your face, eliciting a laugh from Harry about your unexpected "joke.". Honestly, today was a good day for both of you where you were both in an extremely good mood. Unlike the other days where you were quarantined, you were emotionally untired and in the mood to film and have a small social interaction, which is rare.

‘’And I'm Y/N Y/L/N!'’ Harry said joining in the joke with you and then looking at you as he waited for you to say the rest of the introductory phrase but only realizing you were smiling at the camera without saying anything. '’Y/N!'’ Harry called calmly causing you to turn your head to face him and realize he wanted you to continue instead of continuing himself.

'’Oh sorry, I thought you were going to continue'’ You whispered conspiratorially to him before taking a deep breath and resting your hands on the table when you returned your gaze to the camera. ‘’And we’re gonna go undercover on the internet today!!’’

‘’Yeah, I'm scared!'’ Harry said when opening the laptop that was over the table and turning it on. You sat back in your chair so that you could see the laptop screen clearly and smirked a little when you heard your boyfriend's words.

‘’Hm... Let's do TikTok!'’ Harry said after a few seconds in silence while thinking. Harry's words made you chuckle his words because you knew that Harry doesn't comprehend anything about TikTok and didn't have an account but you both would usually find yourselves in bed watching tiktoks for hours. '’Which username should we put in?'’, Harry asked without taking his eyes off the screen.

‘’You should be! I’ll expose all of your deepest secrets in this video'’ You said while raising your eyebrows in a playful way eliciting a laugh from Harry, one by the way, that he tried hard to sound a little desperate for people watching '’Alright, what should we do first?’’

‘’Put ‘’simp4harry’’ !" You said with a smirk on your lips as Harry let out a nasal laugh but put that username either way.

‘’Okay, but how did you think of that username so fast? I think it’s very creative'’ Harry asked as he finished creating the account.

‘’It's the username I put on everything!'’ You answered as you ran your right hand through your hair.

‘’Oh yes? So is this your Only Fans username?'’ Harry mockingly asked making you laugh and take your eyes off the screen and look at his face.

‘’No, I don't even have an account on Only Fans, for God's sake Styles'’. You answered as mockingly as he did, '’Why? You have one?'’ You asked calmly.

‘’No, I'm a one-woman man!'’ Harry said to cause you to smile convincingly.

'’Can someone get me a bottle of water, please?'’ You asked gently for the people who were on the set and smiled thanking the person who brought you.

‘’Thank you!'’ You answered sounding a little bit shy, even though you’re a public person and listen to compliments quite often, you still don’t know how to react to them. You took a deep breath and raised your eyebrows before using your finger to point to the laptop screen as he opened your tiktok account, ‘’I mean, I don’t even know why I’d be one of the best ones to follow since all I post on tiktok is unnecessary and stupid things that goes through my mind during the day.’’

‘’So inconvenient!'’ Harry whispered playfully. You two had this habit of being sassy to each other, and everyone around you was used to it. This craze started because the first time you guys hang out together in Shanghai, you just talked like you’ve known each other for years and not just five hours.

'’I didn't drink water today, do you want me to be thirsty? I thought you loved me!'’ You used a dramatic tone when speaking before drinking a sip of water.

‘’I did!'’ Harry replied in a low tone finishing logging in the TikTok feed.

‘’What do you mean ''you did''?'’ You answered in a loud tone holding the laugh with Harry.

‘’Okay, focus on TikTok! Focus on TikTok!'’ Harry said with a laugh as you now brought his attention to the screen as well, ‘’Hm, let's look at my girl's account!'’, Harry said as he typed your tiktok username in the search bar. You took a sip of the water in the bottle and put it on the table, ‘’AND by the way, do you guys know that this woman over here was listed by The Cut as one of the best tiktokers to follow today? And I’m so proud’’

‘’Well, I love how you appreciate your talents, love!'’ Harry replied sarcastically with a smirk on his lips making you chuckle. He didn't like it very much when you belittled something you did, even if it was something that was really bad, he didn't like it. Not just with you though, but with all the people in the world. Harry doesn't like it when people don't recognize their worth.

‘’Ok, here’s the first one! I’ll be reacting to it!'’ Harry spoke in a playful tone while clicking on the video as he knew very well it was not a react video but to answer questions. Harry clicked on the first video, this time you were propped up with your face close to the camera with folded arms dubbed to the sound that was in the background. You then take the transparent glasses pulled over the beige in a matter of color that was in front of you on the table and put them under your eyes never failing to dub the song. Then you move away from the camera and can see you are wearing leggings and a sweatshirt. And then you take your Louis Vuitton Coussin PM silver bag and place it on your shoulder before the video ends ‘’Alright, so on this video you don’t do anything else than mimicking to the song.’’

‘’No, but like, seriously!'’ You complemented. '’We’ll watch some of them, and you’ll see how silly they are!

‘’I know that’s why I said that it stupid!'’ You exclaimed as you crossed your arms on the table. ‘’Let’s see the comments'’ You, yourself clicked on the comments area with your hand before Harry did and observed as comments poped up.

‘’Ok so the user @username1 asked ‘’How does it feel being the coolest person ever’’, tell me Y/N, how does it feel like?'’ Harry asked with a smirk to you as he turned his head to encounter your face with raised eyebrows.

‘’Oh, it feels so nice!'’ You responded in a playful tone causing both of you to laugh at your conviction, even though you knew it was a teasing tone and not narcissistic ‘’Everybody knows I’m like, the coolest person alive so...'’ You convincingly said running your hand through a few strands of your hair and then take a deep breath and put a lock of hair behind your ear. ‘’No, I’m just kidding. I’m not cool everyday, honestly there are days that I’m the most annoying person ever so I definetely have my good and bad days.’’

‘’Oh and those annoying moments'’ Harry said in an ironic tone, letting out a dramatic sigh causing you to frown and slightly open your mouth as an offense while holding your laughter as you exclaimed a loud '' excuse me?’‘ as an answer. Harry returned his attention to the comments on the screen again and frowned and brought his face slightly closer to the screen to read ‘’Okay so @username2 asked ‘’new trend: are you engaged?’’. No guys are not. We’ve never been engaged.’’

‘’I feel like we’ve been engaged since 2017!'’ You said sarcastically remembering all the rumors about engagement, babies and dating. Since the first time you has met there were rumors, thousands of them, all the time but you and Harry chose not to comment on them as it would just be a big waste of time.

‘’Exactly and we weren’t even dating in 2017!'’ Harry complemented by looking away from the camera at his nodded face. '’But anyway...’’ Harry said taking a deep breath '’I love how random your tiktok actually is!’’

"I know! I am planning a whole video to film on Grammys day because I'm in love with my outfit and i’m so excited for it!" You said changing the subject but being excited about the idea. After the announcement of nominations and with all the excitement you felt for Harry, you agreed you would attend the Grammys together; it was something important because not only was he running for three awards but also because you never attended any events side by side, except at the 2019 Met Gala. Then the pressures would increase but Harry knew it would be so much easier if he had you there with him. Because whether or not he took the awards home, he knew you were there and he would be grateful for at least being nominated for sure.

"Wait, which outfit did you pick? " Harry asked as he left the tiktok site on the laptop and entered Instagram. Harry selected searched for the hashtag of both of your names as a ship name on the explorer, so it would be easier to find what both of you wanted. "You showed me three different outfits but didn’t told me which one you chose!"

"Oh, I choose the black Prada one!" You answered calmly. Harry stopped using the laptop and turned his head quickly to face his face causing you to look surprised and confused at him due to your reaction. It was his favorite outfit from the three that you had shown to him. "What?I wanna look great before you win your first award and I start ugly crying."

"Oh my god, you’re probably more excited than me." Harry said turning his attention back to the laptop screen.

"Of course I am, I cannot wait to walk around telling people that my boyfriend is not only a three times grammy nominated but a grammy winner!" You answered as you grabbed the water bottle that you had previously asked and drinking a sip.

"Anyway, let’s see!" Harry said as he started searching through the hashtag posts, also drawing his attention to the same screen. You then see a post that catches your eye and points it so that Harry can click. The post was a picture of Harry on the Met Gala carpet with ‘’Harry pierced his own ear for the Met Gala with a needle’’ written on it. "Ok, that’s true! But, now ask me why I had to pierce my own ear?!" He asked ironically, as if he were playing a trick on you, because he knew very well you had a mini argument that day since you refused to pierce his ear with the fricking needle.

"I told you I wouldn’t do it! Do you even have any idea of how dangerous that was?" You replied right after rolling your eyes, but your tone of voice remained calm and you didn't get heated when you spoke. "You know you need to sterilize, right? And what if you had caught an infection? Do you really think I was going to do that? You're an adult. I can't stop you, but I wasn't going to pierce your ear."

"Hey, hey, hey!" He said causing you to stop talking and look at him. Harry raised his eyebrows and looked at you with a smirk before speaking. "The thing is: I really wanted to pierce my ear, and we wear finishing getting ready in New York. I asked Y/N if she had a needle. Neither her and Alessandro wanted to do it. Literally no one wanted to do it but I was very much decided so I did it myself and my ear is completely fine by the way" Harry said the last part making you roll your eyes again while looking at the camera and take a deep breath.

"Anyway..." You said as you dived back into the posts. In one of them you read someone saying in a comment that you and Harry would probably never fight. "Here, this one says ‘’I feel like they’re the type of couple that never fights and when they do, the fight lasts for 30 seconds’’".

"Absolutely untrue!" Harry said almost that immidiately while you nodded agreeing with him.

"Guys, every couple in the world argues. It’s natural, it’s not because we don’t have big arguments and talk shit about each other on the internet that we don’t have conflicts or understatement" You explained. You and Harry are really compatible, but you still have your moments and it’s important to recognize it. No relationship is perfect and disagreeing on things is absolutely understandable.

"Yeah, specially ‘cause we’re different people that come from different places and had different experiences. As long as the disagreements are not causing you serious mental and emotional harm is normal" Harry complemented your thought. It’s important to notice when a relationship is not making you feel good anymore. If your unhappy for any reason is important to leave and to search for help if needed. "See, if you could change anything in our relationship, what would it be?" Harry asked making you pay attention to his words and face as you thought attentively in silence for a few seconds.

"I think I would probably change the fact that we’re usually really far away from each other!" You said calmly while looking at him. "Like, you’re always travelling and so I am, so I feel like it can get hard sometimes because of that and I’d definitely would change that if I could do it without like, changing our whole careers and lives."

"Yeah, I’d probably change that as well!" Harry agreed nodding to you as he was thinking as well. "I’m very grateful for quarantine on that point because we could spend more time together without being so long apart from each other. Of course I wish it was on different situations but I’m grateful for that" Harry said and you could understand that completely. You and Harry had been dating since 2018 and had spend months apart from each other and only you both truly knew how hard it could get sometimes, specially when you had the whole world to judge both of you.

"I fully understand it! Sometimes I think about everyone who spent this past year alone, and I’m really grateful for having you with me...LIke, you’re my best friend, you know this" You said looking at Harry’s face. He had a growing tender smile on his face that was starting to make you nervous and emotional on the same time as you remembered the past year. You felt your eyes getting wet and let out a chuckle looking away from his gaze. "I’m getting emotional! It’s all about my cancer rising today!"

"Oh sure, it’s always zodiac’s fault!" Harry said laughing and then looking at the screen and the crew on the backstage while gesturing with his hands. "That’s probably one thing about Y/N that you guys don’t know. She fully believes on zodiac signs and those stuffs. Actually, there was one time when she told me that we couldn’t be together because our signs were incompatible."

"Okay but like, Harry is an Aquarius and I’m a Taurus. We are incompatible when it comes to zodiac signs!" You said between giggles as you tried justifying your point even though Harry knew you were joking when you said that to him. He didn’t know at the time though he was very much surprised and scared when you said it.

"But anyway, I’m glad that we spend this time together. It’s been weird and funny at the same time like the spaghetti day!" Harry said holding his giggles as he watched your eyes widen because you knew exactly what he was talking about.

"NO, we're not talking about this!" You talked fastly while laughing at the same time as Harry as you both remembered that one night in quarantine when a spaghetti night went completely wrong and he came on the kitchen to see you and a kitchen with spaghetti and tomato sauce all over the floor and the walls and how you cried to convince him to clean the whole kitchen alone and failed. "Ok, let's finish the video here before things are leaked!" You said giggling.

"Alright, this was very nice. Thank you GQ for having us and I hope we weren't the worst guests you've ever had!" Harry said joking even though you both knew that it was quite hard to be very open in the media specially about your relationship but you tried your hardest.

"Don't forget to watch Harry peform on Grammys on sunday!" You said.

#harry styles imagine #harry styles imagines #harry and y/n #harry styles and y/n #HARRYxMODELY/N #harry styles x you #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #harry styles au #harry styles blurb #harry styles fanfiction #harry x reader

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taleasnewastime · 4 years ago

Text

The Wedding

Summary: A wedding of close friends is always a nice occasion. But what if your ex is attending. And what if that ex also happens to be sat at the same table as you with a date. Hopefully the mysterious stranger sitting by you at dinner can help save the day.

Pairing: Jin x reader

Genre: fluff; smut; angst

Word count: 11.2k

Authors Note: Happy (belated) Birthday Jin!! I hope he had a fabulous day, he deserves it. Here is a not so little story to celebrate. (Note to self, work on better titles for stories). I hope you all enjoy :)

It had been 4 months. 4 months since you and Harry finally decided you would end your 2-year relationship. Though that makes it sound like a mutual decision. What is it that celebrity’s call it when they’re getting a divorce? Irreconcilable differences. As if there is nothing wrong, just a change in feelings. A mutual decision where two people decide, hey this isn’t working shall we just call it quits?

But that’s not how it felt to you. Harry had told you he wanted to end the relationship and you had no other option but to go along with it. What could you really have done? Refuse? And what, Harry would have just been like sure and stayed with you? No. You left the relationship holding some of your pride (you hoped), agreeing that it was best the relationship ended, even if that wasn’t what you wanted.

In all honesty it may have broken your heart more to do that then to have begged him to stay.

4 months may seem like a long time to some people, but after 2 years together, 4 months felt like a mere second to you. If you think about it you can still picture his face when he sat you down and told you that he no longer loved you. You can still feel the pain of your heart shattering in that moment. You can still feel the tears that ran down your face like a stream. You can feel the nod of your head as you struggle to hear his words, just nodding in agreement to whatever he is saying. And you can still see his back as he walked out the door, leaving you behind.

Friends had told you he was not worth it, that you should move on. And it’s not like you hadn’t tried, you’d gone on a few dates, but none of them lived up to him. Which you were the first to admit sounded stupid, what guy that chose to leave you like that deserves you to grieve that much over him? You told yourself that you were just waiting for the right person to come along, but they were yet to show up. And it made you wonder whether Harry was it, whether he was the one that got away, whether you should have fought harder for him to stay, whether he was as good as it was ever going to get.

The last time you had seen him was when he walked out on you, and as you walk into the church of your friend's wedding there should have been no surprise when you see Harry sitting on the groom's side of the church. They were mutual friends after all, you friends with the bride, him the groom. Though you expected him to be here, there is still a bit of shock that courses through you when you see his figure.

Listening to your friend Eleanor talk as you enter the church, you look around in search of some empty seats when you see him. The black suit jacket fits a little loose on his frame, making it look like he picked it up last minute and got one that didn't quite fit right. But seeing his back causes flash backs of him walking out the door to run through your mind. Eleanors voice seems to fade into the background when you see him, only brought back to the present when she tugs lightly on your arm, directing you to a couple of empty seats.

You attempt to push him from your mind, try to not glance over at him whenever you get the chance. From this angle you can only see his shoulder, and if the people in between you are aligned just right, you get a glance of his side profile. You can see that his hair is styled in the way that you always loved, his dark slightly curly hair flops down over his face covering his eyebrows a few strands poking into his eyes.

Focusing on the wedding, watching your friend walk down the aisle, you manage to distract yourself enough to not think of him. Dressed in white, your friend looks beautiful and you have to hold back a few tears when they say their vowels. Standing to clap and cheer when the bride and groom kiss, you watch as they then walk back down the aisle hand in hand, beaming.

Happiness is your overriding emotion, however you can’t help the pang of jealousy that swells within you, wishing that was you.

Taking the glass of prosecco that is handed to you when you walk into the reception, you have to stop yourself from downing it all in one, instead taking one massive gulp. Eleanor and you had booked into a hotel close by, recommended by the bride and groom, so you had always planned to have a few drinks. The appearance of Harry only confirmed the fact that large quantities of alcohol were going to be consumed.

“I heard that they have a tab behind the bar and when it’s gone it’s up to us to pay,” Eleanor says as she comes to stand beside you, both waiting behind a large group of people who are all trying to find their table for the dinner.

“Are you trying to encourage me to get drunk?” You raise your eyebrows at her, taking another gulp of your drink.

“Merely stating facts,” she replies. “What with the hotel, buying a new dress and having to get the happy couple a gift, I think we deserve a few free drinks.”

“You have a point,” you sigh, taking another gulp of your drink nearly finishing your glass as you shuffle ever closer to dining room door. “Why are weddings so expensive? I thought they were supposed to be pricey for bride and groom, not for their guests as well.”

“All I can say is, the food better be good,” she says as you finally come to stand in front of the board detailing where everyone is to be sat. “Right, where are we?”

Your eyes dart across the chart looking for your names.

“I hope we haven’t been shoved near the loos,” you joke, eyes still searching.

“Oh, come on, we’re better than that right?” Eleanor panics slightly at yours words.

“I don’t know, you were just saying that you’re going to drink them clean of their alcohol,” you joke, laughing lightly when you look at the worry written on Eleanors face.

“Oh shit,” she says, her face going from worry to shock, the colour almost draining from her face as she turns from the seating chart to you.

You give a small humourless chuckle as you look at her, blood pumping so hard you can almost hear it in your ears.

“Don’t tell me they’ve actually put us by the toilets,” you say.

“We’ve actually got pretty good seats,” she replies, though concern swims through her eyes. “Maybe we should get a top up before we sit down.”

You cock your head to the side in question as you look at her. Turning to look over the chart, you are more desperate now to see your name. “Where are we?” You say at the same moment you read your name.

Eleanor was right, you did have pretty good seats. A clear view of the head table where the bride and groom sat, prime seats for when the food would arrive, and easy access to get to the bar and eventually the dance floor. Yet all of this was monstrously over shadowed by the fact that opposite you sat the one person you were hoping to avoid, Harry.

“He’ll be so far away we won’t even notice he’s there,” Eleanor reasons as you continue to stare blankly at the name on the board.

“I think I’d rather the toilet seats,” you say seriously, before you can catch yourself. “No, you know what? It’ll be fine. I had to see him at some point today, why not at dinner?” You rearrange your face, attempting to look like the whole situation wasn’t affecting you at all. “Another drink is a good idea though,” you say before gulping down the last few dregs in your glass.

Eleanor follows suit, necking her own drink before dragging you over to the near empty bar, everyone else still on their first glass.

“I mean why the hell would she sit you and your ex on the same table?” Eleanor turns to you after ordering two drinks, she almost seems angrier than you.

“It hasn’t been that long, they probably couldn’t rearrange it all,” you tap your fingers on the bar, nerves building up within you at the thought of the meal ahead.

“It’s been four months, that’s enough time to change some seats around,” Eleanor sighs as the bartender places two wines down.

“Maybe not in wedding speak,” you don’t know why you are trying to defend the decision but you don’t want this evening to be ruined by your ex.

“Anyway, it will be fine, I’ll be there and I’m sure everyone else at the table will be nice. We’ll still have a great time,” she hooks her arm with yours as she slowly makes her way into the dining room. Unsure why she is trying to convince you on the matter when you haven’t protested at all, you guess that’s just what good friends are for, knowing what to say even when you haven’t said anything.

Letting her drag you to the seats your nerves build to a crescendo when you finally see the seats that are assigned to you. Flicking your eyes to the opposite side of the table to you see the distinctive curly hair, heart pounding in your chest as you remove your eyes from him, not wanting to be looking at him when you reach the table.

“This is us,” Eleanor comes to a stop and places her bag on the ground before pulling the chair away from the table.

Following suit, you keep your eyes down as you busy yourself with arranging your dress so it sits straight. The seat next to you is unoccupied, someone running late from the wedding you reason as your hand reaches for your glass to take another sip of your drink as you build up enough courage to look around the rest of your table. Eleanor is already talking to the cute guy sitting to her left, so you have nothing to distract you.

Next to the empty seat sits a woman in her mid 30s her hair tied up in a neat bun. Next to her is a young child, no older than 10 who sits colouring in a predesigned image, concentration all over their face. Harry is next, and your heart involuntarily pangs in your chest when you look at him. You still don’t have a full front on view of him as he is turned talking to the person next to him, but you can now see the crisp white shirt he wears, that seems to fit better than the suit jacket, a slim blue tie around his neck. You can more clearly see his features now too, his round face, blue eyes seeming to contrast the rest of his dark features, his lips are a bright red and are pulled back showing off his straight white teeth as he laughs at something. You take all of this in in mere seconds, not wanting to linger on him in case he catches you.

Moving around the table your heart plummets when you see who he is talking to, who is causing him to smile so brightly, who is causing the slight pink to creep up his neck. More beautiful than you could ever dream of being, the woman sits straight backed in an emerald strappy silk dress. Her features are delicate, yet you are sure that everyone would look at her if she were to enter a room. Her hair is dark and cascades down her back in perfectly formed curls.

Your eyes skim the rest of the table, barely taking anyone else in as you turn to look at Eleanor who is already staring at you. Giving a tight closed lipped smile you don’t do a good job at trying to convince her you’re fine.

Here you sit, single and dateless at a wedding, when your ex of four months sits at the same table, appearing to have completely forgotten you, bringing a date to a wedding he would surely know you would attend. As if reading your mind, Eleanors hand gently squeezes your leg under the table, almost transferring some of her strength to you.

You would have hoped that Harry would have at least acknowledged your presence, would have at least said hi to you, or at worst given a gentle nod of recognition. But he instead seems to not even notice you are there.

Staring into your glass, you get lost in your own thoughts. Watching the liquid swirl around the edge of the glass to the rhythm of your hand movements. Beads of liquid roll down the edge of the glass when you let it rest.

“Got a lot of wine legs there, must be quality stuff.”

You jump at the sound of a male voice on your right, head whipping in the direction of the sound. Your eyes widen when you realise that the previously empty seat is now taken, and not just that but the man that occupies the seat is devastatingly handsome. He has pink plush lips that curve slightly at the edges to form a soft and welcoming smile, his cheeks seem to be squishable while also sculptured as if made from marble, he has dark brown hair that has been pushed away from his face exposing his forehead, and he has dark brown eyes that are welcoming. You watch as he takes off a dark jacket, using the opportunity to try and formulate a response to his opening statement. But as he drapes his jacket on the back of his chair you only ogle more. A black shirt adorns his chest, pulled not so tight that it looks small but so that you can see how muscular he is as well as showing off his broad shoulders.

Your eyes dart back up to his when he turns back to look at you, not wanting him to know you had been checking him out.

“I thought that was an old wife's tale,” you speak and then feel the need to clarify, as it seems an eternity since he last spoke. “The wine legs thing.”

“Could be. My friend told me and 99% of his facts are incorrect,” he says, smile still on his face.

“I also highly doubt Ben and Laura would have splashed the cash on anything expensive,” you refer to the bride and groom.

“They do seem to have blown the budget on flowers,” he laughs, and you join in as you look around the room that has flowers covering most surfaces. Even the wooden beams on the ceiling had some sort of foliage hanging off it, making the place look beautiful. It must have cost a small fortune.

“Don’t they know the way to a good wedding is through alcohol? They could have held this in a school hall and everyone would have been happy as long as there was free booze,” you say.

“They obviously didn’t get the memo,” he replies and there's a moment pause before he says, “anyway, you must be Y/N.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise at the fact he knows your name. Thoughts of whether you had met him before are cut off by him explaining.

“The name cards,” his hand does a sweep of the table where names are placed to show where people sit.

Heat rushes to your face as you realise. Trying to cover this up you glance down at the name card in front of him.

“Jin?” You look back up at him and see a wider smile on his face as he looks at you.

“That’s me,” he beams and you can’t help but copy, his smile infectious. “So, are you here for the bride or groom?”

“The bride,” you say. “We used to work together. What about you?”

“Groom,” he nods. “He’s a friend from childhood. I actually don’t know many people here so I’m glad they’ve placed me next to someone fairly normal.”

You shy at his words, turning to look at your glass, as your face continues to heat. “You might not be saying that by the time we get to dessert. You’ll be running to the dance floor just to get away from me,” you try and joke and are pleased when you hear an almost squeaky laugh leave his lips. Looking at him you can see it is genuine, his head leaning back slightly as his eyes close.

“Honestly, maybe weird is better. Plus, I’ll be running to the dance floor anyway, I am a notoriously good dancer,” he says when he has calmed enough to talk.

“Cha cha slide?” You ask.

He gives a small laugh mouth opening to reply but before any words leave his lips a hand is placed on your shoulder and you are gently moved backwards in your seat.

“Finally decided to join the table,” Eleanor says as she leans over you so she can speak to Jin. You wonder whether they know each other and then remember that Eleanor is just that forward and friendly.

“I did hear rumours it was the best table in the place. But then I am sat here,” Jin gives a small shrug of his shoulders at the statement.

“I think that only applies to this half of the table,” Eleanor says loudly and you visibly cringe. “Anyway, me and Jordan were just placing bets on what food we’re going to be forced to eat,” she carries on, waving a hand towards the man sat beside her, presumably Jodan who gives a small wave.

“Easy, isn’t it always a hog roast at these things,” you roll your eyes at her.

“Wow, wow, wow,” Jin says dramatically. “Ben would never stoop that low. It will definitely be some sort of chicken.”

“And just how well do you know Ben? Don’t tell me you’re cheating here and already know the answer,” Eleanor accuses, her finger coming up to point at him as if to better prove her point.

As they bicker and joke about what food is going to be served, you are suddenly aware of how this is the complete opposite to how you expected this meal to go. As soon as you had seen that Harry was sat on the same table as you, your blood had run cold and yet since Jin had arrived you weren’t even aware of his presence at the table. This thought is cut short when you take a glance at him and you can see he is scolding in your direction, the girl sitting by him seems to be unaware that his attention is no longer on her as she continues to talk at him.

Heat rises to your face as you catch his eyes, if looks could kill you would surely be six foot under by now. Wishing you were strong enough to hold his gaze, you instead look down at your lap, fingers fiddle with the material of your dress.

Mere minutes ago you had wanted him to acknowledge your existence, and now he was you couldn’t even hold his gaze. Though when you imaged him looking at you, it wasn’t with the hatred currently in his eyes. You wonder what right he had to look at you like that when he was the one that had completely ignored you when you arrived, and the one that had brought a date with him.

As you think this though you realise that maybe he thinks Jin is your date. Maybe the girl he is talking to isn’t his date and exactly what Jin is to you, just someone who happens to be sitting next to you at a wedding. Maybe you were the one being a hypocrite and you had judged him just as quickly as he was now judging you.

All thoughts are cut off when a plate is placed in front of you. Jumping slightly at its arrival.

“Told you, roast chicken,” Jin says smugly looking down at the food.

“I still think you cheated,” Eleanor replies.

“Ask Ben if you have any doubts,” Jin points his fork at Eleanor while he chews on some broccoli.

“No doubt you’ve sworn him into some sort of secrecy,” she scowls at him before taking a bite of her own food and turning to talk to Jordan.

“I mean, I didn’t,” Jin mumbles with a pout and you give a small chuckle at how serious the discussion had become while you zoned out.

“Go on then, if you’re so good at all of this, what will their first dance be to?” You look at him with a smirk.

“Ben does love the macarena,” Jin says and his face visibly lightens when he watches you laugh.

“Now that would be some first dance,” you say through your laugh.

“It would be the song I’d pick,” his voice is full of cheekiness.

“I pity the girl,” you smile at him.

“Oh really,” his eyebrows raise almost in challenge. “I’ll have you know I’m quite the catch.”

“And yet I see no date,” you raise your eyebrows back at him.

“Everyone knows that weddings are the perfect place to meet people. It’s all the love, people can’t help but want to experience it themselves.”

“Desperation you mean,” you stab your fork into a potato. “Hoping to score a bridesmaid?”

“Not sure I would call it desperation,” his eyes are still on you as you continue to eat. “And none of the bridesmaids really caught my eye.”

“Hum. Yellow was a bold choice for their dresses, even if it is pastel. I guess Laura didn’t want to risk being shown up,” you agree with him. “But, I bet when you speak to them their personalities will shine through,” your voice is thick with sarcasm and you watch as Jins face lights up at the joke.

His mouth opens to reply but once again he is interrupted, this time by the groom standing up and someone tapping a spoon onto a glass. You swear you hear a small sigh leave Jins lips as the room falls silent for the speeches, but when you look at him a smile is still on his face as he looks towards his friend.

The speeches threaten to make you spill some tears, especially when the bride's father starts to well up when giving his speech. By the time it’s all over you hardly get to speak to Jin as he is dragged into conversation with the woman on his right before the party portion of the evening starts.

Everyone gathers around the dance floor when plates are finally cleared from the meal and as you had predicted Jin disappears between you leaving the table and going to the dance floor. You are unable to spot him as you look around the crowd and decide that he is probably doing as you predicted and seeking out a single bridesmaid. You concentrate on Laura and Ben dancing around the floor in each other's arms as they stare lovingly into each other eyes.

“Can I have this dance,” you hold out your hand and bow lowly to Eleanor as the DJ invites couples to join the bride and groom on the dance floor.

Chuckling Eleanor places her hand in yours as you pull her onto the floor, putting your arms around her waist as hers fall around your neck like all the other couples. You and Eleanor had decided to be each other's dates to the wedding, both single. Though you are sure that Eleanor could easily have snapped up a date, you were grateful she offered that you go together.

“Thanks for coming with me today,” you say as you sway around the dance floor.

“Don’t be stupid, there’s no one I would have rather come with. Plus, if I had brought a date that cute guy I was sitting by wouldn’t have chatted me up,” she says, giving you a cheeky smirk.

“Hey, you’re my date,” you mock offence. “Though if he asks nicely, maybe I’ll let him steal you for a dance or two.”

Eleanor’s face visibly lights up at your words though she quickly tries to hide it. “I’m sure that Jin will be asking to dance with you before long.”

“I’m not sure he was interested,” you scrunch up your face at her words.

“Well, you are obviously blind.”

“I think I saw him going off to chat up one of the bridesmaids,” you lie in the hopes it will be enough for her to drop the topic.

“Oh really?” She would sound genuinely surprised, if not for the heavy sarcasm in her voice. “Because I think I see him stood watching you.”

Your head almost snaps in the direction she is looking and sure enough Jin stands on the edge of the dance floor, fresh drink in hand as he watches you dance around the floor. Just as quickly as you look at him, you look away heat rising to your face.

“He’s probably just thinking what a terrible dancer I am,” you half mumble.

“Again, I’m not so sure,” cheekiness is now the overriding tone of Eleanors voice, which is mirrored by the big smile on her face. “If I’m not mistaken, I think he’s actually walking over to us now. Maybe he’s coming to tell you what a terrible dancer you are in person,” the sarcasm returns to her voice as you freeze in her arms.

Your back had been swung in the direction of where Jin was stood so you cannot confirm what Eleanor is saying without obviously looking over your shoulder. But it doesn’t take long for her statement to be revealed as true as a tall figure comes to stand by your side.

“Mind if I steal your partner?” The voice you recognised from earlier asks Eleanor and you watch as she nods, stepping away from you.

Your eyes widen at her, silently pleading for her to stay, though you are unsure why.

“But I want her back later,” she says as she walks off in search of another dance partner.

Jin steps so he is now stood in front of you and you are surprised by how tall he is, his broad shoulders and frame only making him seem that much larger.

“I hope you don’t mind,” he says as he looks down at you.

“Not at all,” you gulp down your nerves. “I was hoping to see these amazing dance moves anyway.”

Laughing he gently reaches out to place his hands on your waist, pulling you lightly so that you can more easily drape your arms around his neck.

“I’d hate to disappoint,” he smirks down at you, and you have to look away from his gaze.

A silence falls over the two of you as you gently sway to the music, Jin expertly guiding you around the room. You feel comfortable in his presence, but struggle to meet his eyes, instead choosing to look at his chest. This isn’t much better though as his black shirt has the top three buttons undone, causing a glimpse of his chest. You almost feel like a Victorian with how that small amount of skin gets you hot.

“Black is a bold choice for a wedding,” you finally break the silence, looking up to see he is already looking down at you.

“Do you not think it looks good?” He asks, though his face says he already knows your answer.

“I guess it’s just a colour more aligned to a funeral,” you ignore his question.

“Well, I am mourning the loss of one of my best friends. Now he’s married I will hardly see him anymore,” he says this with a wide smile on his face.

“Oh come on, you’re not one of those people, are you? You really believe married life is like a death sentence?”

“I never said death sentence,” he is quick to correct you.

“You said you were mourning the loss of your friend, that implies death,” you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Alright, maybe that was a bit extreme,” he laughs. “I guess I’m not totally sold on the whole wedding thing. Like you said, why not just get loads of booze and throw it in a cheap hall somewhere. Do you really need all of this to tell everyone that you are madly in love?” He looks around the room to further his point. “I’d be happy just to go to the registry office and do it all in secret. Is that not more romantic?”

“Hiding your partner away from everyone? Romantic,” you tease. “But you’re not completely opposed to getting married?”

“Hiding her away so that she can be all mine? I think romantic,” he shoots back. “But I guess I’d have to find the right person first,” his words come out deeper and smoother than previously, and again you have to break his eye contact.

The song that was playing choices this moment to stop, the DJ mixing in a more up-tempo track. People all around you break from their swaying and start to dance with more enthusiasm, arms being thrown in the air. You remain in Jins arms, breaking a second before it comes awkward, you being the first to step away looking around the room as you do.

“You should definitely get talking to those bridesmaids then. Maybe one of them is the one,” you try to make it sound sarcastic and like you don’t care, but it sounds anything but. “I’d hate to think I got in the way of anything,” you say, looking back at him to see a flicker of something cross his face. He opens his mouth to reply but for the third time that night you don’t let him get any words out. “I should probably go and find Eleanor anyway. I’d hate to think she’s all alone somewhere.”

Jin continues to stare at you, a now blank stare is on his face, making his emotions unreadable. He gives a small nod at your words.

“Thanks for the dance, it was nice,” you say lamely as you turn and walk away.

Instead of hunting down Eleanor, like you had just said you were going to do, you head straight to the bar, happy when you find out drinks are still free. Standing, waiting for your drink, you think about the dance. Think about Jins hands on your waist, the feeling firm, yet safe. Think about the earthy and woody scent that was coming off of him. Think about seeing his face so close you could see all the muscles moving when his face contorted into a smile.

A glass being placed down in front of you snaps you out of your thoughts, and you take a large gulp in the hopes that would also help to ease your mind. You are unsure why you had just bolted away from Jin as if it was a crime scene. He seemed like a nice guy, and to be honest at the moment a nice guy is exactly what you need. But the problem was that you were not what he needed. Currently still hung up on your ex, not in the best place mentally and just generally a mess, you didn’t want to lead him into anything just to leave him.

And yet you can’t get him out of your head. You had only known him for the past few hours, only spoken to him for a portion of that time, but you feel yourself wanting to go back onto the dance floor and apologise, ask him to take you back in his arms and sway around the dance floor again. Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t felt like this about anyone for ages that made you scared. Even when you were with Harry, towards the end, you didn’t feel this way about him. You had to admit that your relationship had started to lack the passion and desire it had at the start, but you had assumed that was normal after two years of being together. But that obviously wasn’t enough for Harry.

You head is almost resting on your arms that lay on top of the bar when you hear a familiar voice. As if your thoughts had somehow summoned him.

“Not with your date?” Harry’s words ring out and you tense at his words. Thoughts immediately flood your mind of how this is the opposite reaction you would have had a few months ago if you heard his voice.

You turn slowly to look at Harry and see he looks somewhat more dishevelled than earlier. He has lost his tie and jacket, the top few buttons undone, and you note that while this was a turn on for Jin, you almost cringed at the look on Harry. His hair is also messier, a look that makes you think he has been running his hand through the curls all night, something you know he does when he’s stressed.

“My date?” You question as you honestly have no idea who he is talking about. Annoyed at the fact that these are the first words he is speaking to you.

“The guy you were sat by at dinner?” He almost spits the words at you, and the action almost makes you smile. You’ve clearly gotten under his skin.

“I could ask you the same thing,” you avoid answering his question, not wanting to give him any unnecessary details.

“She’s gone to the toilet,” he waves a hand dismissively and your heart clenches at the confirmation he has brought a date with him.

“Is it new?” You can’t help the curiosity, but curse at yourself for sounding like you care, which you do, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Harry is now the one that goes rigid at your words and gives a half mumble of “something like that,” that you catch. You turn and take another gulp of your drink, praying someone comes and saves you from this conversation.

“Listen,” Harry sighs, his body relaxing at the motion. “I didn’t come here to gloat or be mean or anything,” you have to bite the words could have fooled me back, instead remaining silent as you wait for him to continue. “I came here to say that I miss you.”

These are the last words that you expect to leave his lips. He was the one who had left you after all. He was the one that had said he had fallen out of love with you. He was the one that ended it and never called you again, left you with so many questions unanswered.

Instead of the effect that Harry must have hoped these words would cause, you feel almost sick when he says it. You feel like in the space of one wedding you have done a complete 180 in your feelings to the man currently stood in front of you.

But when you actually think about it, you had felt this way since he left you. If he had come to you before you still would have felt this hatred and sickness towards him. Because, honestly, you could never have gotten back with him after he had said that he had fallen out of love with you, however much you missed him. You would never been able to trust him again, always second guessing everything, always wondering when he was going to change his mind again and walk out the door.

The feelings you had felt towards him all this time, you now realised, was resentment. You resented that he was the one that left you and felt bitter at the fact that while you still loved him, he no longer loved you. And while you thought those feelings of love had stayed over the months, they had really morphed into something far uglier.

It is only now as he stands so you can fully see him that you realise that you do not miss him, that you do not want him back and that you certainly do not love him. And it feels like a weight has been lifted off of your shoulders.

“You don’t seem like you miss me,” Harry says into the silence, realising that you are not going to be the one to break it. There is a sort of arrogance in his voice, as if he knows, or thinks, that he still has you.

“You are here with a date,” you have to remind him.

“I know. But Y/N, don’t you want to talk? I wanted to say that I regret -”

“No,” you cut him off, not wanting to hear any of the bullshit that spills out of his mouth. “No. I don’t want to talk to you. I don’t want to hear you’re excuses or explanations or whatever the hell you are going to say. You left me, Harry. You fell out of love with me. And we are no longer together because of that so you have to deal with the consequences,” you turn and pick up your glass before looking at him.

Before you can walk away, he does a small side step so that he is stood in front of you, blocking your exit.

“No listen to me,” he almost pleads, and it almost sounds good to hear it.

“You have a date,” you remind him once again.

“Who I don’t care about.”

“I’m sure she will be thrilled to hear that.”

“I don’t care,” he almost screams the words, his arms flinging in the air as if to further his frustration. “I don’t care, ok?” He repeats softer. “I just care about you.”

You stare at him, looking into his eyes you try to read what's happening behind them, wishing you could see what he was thinking. And as the silence continues, you can see the arrogance return, as if he thinks he has you again. You wonder how you had never seen it in his eyes before.

“Well, I don’t care,” you say and you can see the shock that comes into his eyes. He definitely wasn’t expecting that.

“Y/N, come on. I’m sorry ok,” his pleading returns, and this time you just feel pity for him.

“You broke up with me Harry,” you remind him. “And so, I no longer have to stand here and listen to what you have to say.” Glass in hand you give him a final look before walking past him.

Heading back into where everyone is dancing you feel a mixture of emotions. Giddy at the fact that you had managed to keep your cool and say everything you wanted to say to Harry to his face, you would never have thought you’d be able to do that. But the sickness remains, confusion as to why Harry would come and say those words to you. He surely didn’t actually want you back? A selfishness must have come out from him seeing you sat with Jin, who he had assumed was your date. Was he really so petty to feel some sort of ownership over you, when he was sat with an actual date the other side of the table.

And now you felt pity towards her. Did she know what Harry was saying about her behind her back? You kind of hoped it was nothing serious, you didn’t want him to break anyone the way he had broken you.

When you reach the edge of where everyone is dancing you have a quick glance behind you, seeing Harry in the same spot you left him, his date now at his side. Shaking your head at the scene, you push it from your mind and turn back in search of someone much better. When you spot her, you make your way over to Eleanor.

“Where have you been?” Eleanor almost shouts when she sees you. “Good dance with Jin?” She wiggles her eyebrows and you roll your eyes.

“You will never guess what happened,” you begin before going onto to retell the story of bumping into Harry and all the things he said to you.

“Well shit. I’m sorry I wasn’t there to save you,” she gives your arm a reassuring squeeze.

“It’s alright. It was actually good in a way. I think I can finally see who he is now and how I am so much better without him. It was probably the best thing to happen tonight,” you say and Eleanors eyes widen at your statement.

“God that’s really saying something since you danced with Jin,” she says and you laugh.

“He’s probably long gone, scared away by me running away from him,” you sigh as you look around the room, unable to spot his figure anywhere. “Anyway, I just want to drink and dance and enjoy the night and then go and collapse in a bed that I have paid an extortionate amount for.”

“Amen,” Eleanor says raising her glass for you to cheers.

And that is exactly what you do. You drink, you dance and you enjoy the evening, with little thought of Harry. The man who instead plagues your thoughts is Jin. You find yourself looking for him as you dance, when you go to get another drink and when someone taps you on the shoulder you hope it’s him. But you never spot him, not even a peak of the top of his head or the back of his shoulder. Even as you wave off the happy couple as they leave for their honeymoon, Jin is nowhere in sight. So you assume that he has done as you suggested and gone and found himself someone better.

Eleanor leans her arm on your shoulder before resting her head on it, watching the disappearing car.

“Shall we go to the hotel then?” Eleanor says.

You lean down so that your head can rest on hers. “Yeah,” you reply.

The uber drops you off at the hotel and as you walk into the main room you can see a few other wedding guests chatting in the hall. What with the proximity to the reception and the fact it was recommended by the bride and groom, you aren’t surprise that the place is probably fully booked with wedding guests.

And the hotel was cute. It was a cosy, higgledy-piggledy, countryside hotel that looked like it had almost grown from the ground with all the ivy covering the outside walls. All of this added up to mean it was on the expensive side of hotels, however with the wedding being in the middle of nowhere you didn’t have much choice, and Eleanor somehow convinced you that it was worth the cost.

Walking down the hall towards the stairs that would take you to your rooms, you give a small smile at some of the people you recognised from the wedding, but almost stop in your tracks when you see him. It had probably been hours since you last saw Jin and you had almost forgotten about him with all the stuff that had happened between you dancing with him and where you stood now. But as you see him sat at the bar that is off from the hall, you wonder how he could have left your mind at all. Sat alone, staring into a glass of what looked like whiskey, you wonder if this was what his first view of you looked like.

Noticing where you were looking, if the fact that you had come to a complete stop hadn’t been clue enough, Eleanor smiles at you. “You should go speak to him.”

You have to tear your eyes off him to be able to look at Eleanor and can see sincerity on her face.

“I’m a big girl, I’m sure I can find our room on my own,” she teases when she sees your doubt.

“I should apologise for basically running away from him earlier,” you give out the excuse, though one is not needed.

She gives a satisfied nod, those words being all she needed to slowly turn and start walking in the direction you were previously headed. “If you don’t come back to our room tonight, I won’t worry. See you at breakfast,” she says with a wave over her shoulder.

Heat rises to your face and you turn to make sure no one heard, or more importantly that Jin didn’t hear. But he sits continuing to stare at his glass, too far away to hear the comment.

Before you can overthink it, you start walking towards him. Heat remains in your face as you do. He doesn’t notice your approach so you can fully take him in. His long legs are crossed as he sits on the bar stool and yet they still manage to easily touch the floor. He sits slightly hunched in the chair and his shoulders sag with an unseen weight. His hair is slightly more ruffled than earlier, the previous style not holding as he has obviously been running his hand through it. You take a deep breath when you reach the stool next to where he sits, he is still unaware of your presence.

“Do wine legs still apply when the liquid isn’t wine?” You reference his opening comment to you.

His head shoots up, eyes instantly meeting yours and you can see the clear surprise at seeing you here.

“I saw you sitting here, I hope you don’t mind me interrupting,” you say as a lame explanation.

“I usually enjoy staring at my drinks alone without interruption. But I’ll make an exception for you,” he jokes before giving you a wide smile.

“Ah, an honour,” you take the seat next to his and the barman comes over and takes your drinks order.

A silence falls over you and Jin as you wait for your drink, Jin going back to staring into his cup. As you stare at him, possible questions to break the silence run through your head, all as meaningless and irrelevant as the next, none of them what you really want to ask him. So as a drink is placed down in front of you, and as you turn to look at it you build the courage to ask.

“What you doing here all alone?” You hope your voice comes out as light and trivial as you mean it to, and out of the corner of your eye you see Jin has turned to look at you.

“I thought I made that clear,” his voice is an attempt to tease, but you can hear the sadness in it, or was it annoyance? “I enjoy staring at drinks.”

“Ah,” you raise your eyebrows as if in understanding. “The classic post-wedding-stare-at-an-alcoholic-drink-alone. I know it well.”

“Well, you did seemed to know the wedding-reception-stare-at-a-wine-glass-as-you-swirl-it earlier in the night,” he shoots back.

“I guess we may have something in common there then,” you raise your glass lowly towards him, before taking a mouthful.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he says, grabbing your full attention. “I’ll tell you why I was staring into my glass, all alone. If you tell me why you were doing the same earlier.”

Not what you had expected him to say. And you weigh it in your mind. Was it worth telling him the truth to find out why he was sat alone? After a moments thought you realise it was.

“My ex was sitting on our table,” you can’t look him in the eye as you say it, not wanting to see whatever emotion comes onto his face.

He hums lowly before saying, “tough at a wedding.”

“Yeah, I mean it happened 4 months ago, but it was the first time I’ve seen him since he left,” you admit.

Jin doesn’t respond verbally to that, instead a hand is placed on your shoulder. Looking up, you finally see the emotion on his face. Where you had expected to see sorry or pity was instead some form of sympathy. While most people looked at you as if you are broken, as if you need to be fixed, Jin was looking at you with understanding, and in your eyes there was a big difference. You hadn’t liked telling people that you and Harry had broken up and as much as it was to do with admitting that you were no longer together, it was also due to peoples reactions. But here Jin sat, hand on your shoulder, but not in a patronising way, in a way that said he was there.

“Anyway, it was nothing in the end,” you almost visibly brush off the words and, in the process, Jin’s hand drops and you instantly miss the feeling. “I had a good night,” you give him a small smile.

“Yeah, it was good. Although, they definitely needed to put more money behind the bar,” he chuckles.

“More money on booze, less on flowers,” you reference his comment from earlier in the night and Jins smile widens. “Come on then. Don’t think you’re going to get away with it,” you say and when Jin doesn’t immediately answer you carry on. “Why are you sat here all alone?”

“I guess I was just hoping to attract over some lovely lady,” he wiggles his eyebrows at you and you laugh, but you can hear the return of the earlier sadness.

“Seriously? Come on, I spilled my secret.”

“Secret? I wasn’t aware it was that deep?”

“It’s not,” you say. “But maybe I wouldn’t have divulged the information if I knew you were going to back out. You were the one that made the offer after all.”

“Alright, fairs fair,” he waved his hand before taking a massive gulp of his drink, practically finishing it off. A massive sigh leaves his lips before he carried on. “I was thinking of you.”

You freeze from shock. Unable to look away from Jin as he doesn’t meet your eyes, you can see red creeping up his neck, his eyes close lightly and it looks like he holds his breath for a second.

“What?” You croak out.

He lifts his head so he is looking straight forward, before twisting so he can look at you. His features are soft as he takes in your shocked face, his eyes darting around your face almost trying to read your thoughts.

“I was thinking of you,” he repeats, though this time you can see his face, the almost embarrassment in his eyes. “I don’t know, I guess I just had a nice time talking and dancing with you and then you ran away and I wasn’t really sure what I had done wrong. But I guess now I can see why.”

“I had a nice time dancing too,” you say and are surprised when your voice doesn’t crack with the shock still in your body.

“You did?” Jin says with some doubt in his voice.

“Sorry I ditched you. I guess it all got a bit much and rather than act like a normal grown adult I ran,” you say.

“You don’t have to apologise,” he says.

“But I do,” you say. “If you think I was running away because of you, then I need to apologise.”

Jin give a small nod of recognition, but his face looks like he still feels the need to deny your apology. He bites back his words by taking a drink.

“You know, we’ve met before,” the second statement he has said in the space of ten minutes that has shocked you. “You probably don’t remember, you were pretty drunk,” he says when he sees your expression.

“I did wonder why I’d never met you before, if you are supposedly Bens good friend,” you admit.

Jin gives a small chuckle. “Well, we have met. At Ben birthday last year. Though, I turned up a bit late and by the time I got there it seemed like you had already had a lot to drink.”

Heat floods your face at the memory. You had had a lot to drink that night, partly to drown your sorrows after a big row with Harry. You honestly had no memory of Jin that night, you had hardly any memory of that night.

“Not my finest hour,” you say. “I hope I didn’t embarrass myself.”

“I wasn’t sure whether to be happy when I found out I was sat by you because you were the life of the party, or worried you might get as drunk as that night and throw up all over me,” he teases and you give his arm a light punch.

“That was a one off,” you whine.

“You were fine,” he laughs, and his words reassure you.

You give a small nod as a silence comes over you. Both of your stare at your drinks, a tension rises in the air and before it gets unbearable you break it.

“I want to say sorry,” Jins head snaps to you at the words.

“You already apologised,” he says.

“But I want to say it again,” you give a small smile. “I did really enjoy dancing with you. I don’t want you to think that I didn’t enjoy your company tonight.”

“My moves must not have impressed you as much as I had hoped. You did kind of bolt out of there.”

You give a small sigh, embarrassed by the whole ordeal.

“And I meant it when I said that none of the bridesmaids caught my eye,” he carries on.

“I guess I just didn’t want you to be trapped with me all night,” you say.

His face scrunches in confusion. “And what would have been so bad about that?”

“I’m a bit of a mess, if that wasn’t clear. I didn’t want to drag you into all of it.”

“You don’t look like a mess to me,” he says as his eyes scan your body, and you open your mouth to clarify. “You look and sound perfectly put together to me.”

“You’d be surprised,” you give a humourless chuckle, but for once Jin remains serious.

“I’m a big boy, you know. I can make my own decisions.”

Your eyes search his, hoping to find some sort of answer in them. The tension remains in the air, but it has shifted now.

“Want to ditch the drinks?” His voice comes out thick and husky, matching the atmosphere.

All you have to do is nod before he is on his feet and taking you hand in his. You are half dragged to the hall where you left Eleanor and Jin stops suddenly when you enter. Spinning around he pushes you so your back is pressed against the wall behind you and then his lips are on you. It all happens so quickly that you are caught off guard. It takes a second for your mind to kick into action and your lips to start moving, but when they do it feels like nothing you have ever felt before and you never want the feeling to stop.

His lips are as soft as you imaged. Their fullness only adding to the feeling, when you bite down lightly on them you realise how firm they are. A small groan leaves Jins lips and he presses his body ever closer to you. You roll your hips lightly against his and another groan leaves his lips, this time it seems more pained and he pulls away.

Panting gently, you look at each other. His lips have gone slightly redder from your light bites and it makes you want to reattach your lips again, but as you push yourself up, he pulls away. Before your heart can sink, he says, “my room or yours?”

Your eyes widen at his forwardness, but almost automatically you hear yourself saying, “yours.”

And just like that he grabs your hand, pulling you up the stairs, through the twists and turns of the hallways. Before you find yourself outside a door. Reaching into his pocket he pulls out a key and expertly opens the door, if it had been you in this moment it may have taken a few more attempts as your hands shake in anticipation.

His door opens and you hardly make it inside before your lips are attached again. Pushing the door shut behind him, Jins hands grasp for the zip of your dress, pulling it down so that your dress slips from your shoulders and is left in a puddle on the floor. Continuing your journey backwards in search of the bed, Jins hands now grasp for the clasp of your bra, managing to unclasp it as your legs hit the edge of the bed.

Half lowered, half falling onto the bed, Jin stays standing between your legs, looking down at your near naked body. The scene is almost serene as you look up at him. Where there was a hungry and desire before, there is now calmness.

“You have far too many clothes on,” you break the silence.

Slowly Jins fingers work at the buttons of his shirt. Almost painstakingly undoing the buttons, working from the top down all you can do is lay watching. His eyes never break contact from yours, but as he undoes the final button and slips the material off his shoulders your eyes flicker to the bare skin.

He doesn’t give you long to look before he is laying down on top of you. Lips touching every inch of skin they can get to as he makes his way up your body. Small noises of pleasure leave your lips as your body arches into his touch.

“So beautiful,” he whispers into your neck.

Your hands go to his hair, pulling him slightly so that you can reattach your lips. Your hands then glid down his back, pushing his body closer so you can grind up into him. This time noises of pleasure escape his mouth.

When your hands finally meet his trousers, you pull away enough so you work at getting the item off. Jins lips never leave you as your frustration grows, first you can’t undo his belt, then his zipper gets stuck, but Jin seems oblivious simply working his way across your neck. You almost cheer when you manage to get his trousers off, and while Jin sits up so he get them fully off you ask, “condom?”

He gives no verbal answer, instead he stands and makes his way to his bag. Turning around with a foil packet in hand. Using his teeth to tare it open, he pulls his boxers down and rolls the condom on. You groan at the sight and wiggle your pants off as he walks back towards you.

“So beautiful,” he repeats as he stands at the edge of the bed, looking down at you.

Lowering himself down, you feel like there’s a stiffness to the air, almost how it feels before lightning strikes. The anticipation builds up inside you as you feel Jin stoking himself in you folds.

“Please,” you groan out when it all gets too much.

You barely get the word out before he is pushing himself inside you. If the air felt like before a storm previously, now it feels like the storm is fully raging. Jin hardly gives you any time to adjust before he is rolling in and out of you. You barely know what you do with yourself, the pleasure overwhelming. Hands go from sheets, to his shoulders before finally resting on his back, pulling him as close to you as he can get. He pulls your legs so that they wrap around his middle, before his hands goes back to resting either side of your head.

His head goes to your neck, whispering unheard incantations there. His pace goes from soft and hard to fast and solid. Lifting his head, he looks into your eyes and you feel like you’ve never been so close to anyone before.

“Jesus Y/N,” he moans out.

Noises escape your mouth, but none of them class as words, hardly any sound human. Jins hand travels between your bodies and your pleasure is all consuming. Pushed over the edge, your head lulls back into the bed and you vision becomes blurry. Jin is quick to follow, rocking into you a few more times before he collapses onto you.

Heavy breathing fills the room, and it takes a minute or two before Jin finally pulls out of you and rolls to your side. He doesn’t go far though, after disposing of the condom he pulls you into his side. He places a light kiss to the side of your head that rests on his chest.

You can't help but run your fingers over his solid stomach as you lay there. Drawing random patterns on his smooth tan skin, you revel in how toned he is.

“Stay?” he asks.

You snuggle closer into him as an answer.

His lips come to your temple. “I told you, weddings are the perfect place to pick people up,” his mumbles against your skin.

Your hand smacks his chest lightly and he gives a fake groan of hurt.

“Don’t make me regret staying,” you say, but make no attempt to move, if anything you move in closer.

Wrapped up in the thick duvet you wake up slowly. Eyes thick with sleep, it feels like you’ve been in a deep sleep and something has slowly pulled you out of it. That something you realise is the man currently in the same room as you. Though he isn’t lay next to you, like he had been all night, instead you can his gentle footsteps around the room. As they approach your side of the bed and stop, you finally open your eyes and roll so that you can squint in his direction.

“Oh, hi,” his voice is soft and he is clearly surprised that you are awake. “Sorry if I woke you.”

Your eyes have just about adjusted to the light of the room, so you are able to open them past a squint as you give him a warm smile. “You didn’t wake me,” even though he did, it was the kind of wake up you could get use to so you weren’t about to complain.

“Well, I bought coffee,” he holds up the mug in his hand as evidence.

A small hum of appreciation leaves your lips as you sit up, pulling the duvet with you. Your hands reach out to take the mug off Jin and as you take a sip the warmth fills your body. Jin walks back around the bed so that he can crawl back under the covers and you notice that he wears long plaid pyjamas. He looks warm and comfy and you kind of want to cuddle up to him and never leave.

“You went downstairs?” The questions seems obvious, but your brain works slower in the morning so you can’t think of anything more literate to say.

“No, I actually went upstairs. Crazy that this place serves its coffee on the roof,” Jin teases.

“You should alert health and safety,” you roll your eyes at him. “Do they serve breakfast up there too?”

“Ah, so that’s why you stayed,” you raise your eyebrows at him in question. “You’re just using me for collecting your coffee and breakfast,” he clarifies.

“I didn’t request this,” you defend.

“Well in that case,” he reaches out to take the mug out of your hands but you pull it out of his reach.

“But that doesn’t mean I don’t appreciate it,” you give an exaggerated, over the top smile. “But some form of pastry would also not go unappreciated,” you continue to give your best pleading smile, eye lashes batting lightly.

“Pastries do sound good,” Jin nods, though he makes no attempt to move from his position, which is now closer to you after he tried to grab your mug. “And what would I get if I go and get some?”

“A pastry?” You mock.

He hums as if seriously considering it. “I don’t think it’s worth it.”

“A kiss,” you say in a sickly-sweet voice. “On the cheek.”

“A bit better,” he gives you a cheeky grin. “But I think I might still have to pass.”

“Why don’t you name it,” you give him the power. “I may not agree though,” you warn.

Jin places his hands on his chin, pretending to stroke a beard that isn’t there as he thinks. “How about a date?” It’s the first thing that he has said that morning with some seriousness.

Eyes flicking between his you try and read what he is thinking before giving your answer. “OK,” you agree. “But they better be damn good pastries.”

The wide smile returns to Jin faces, a few creases appearing around his eyes due to the wide beam. He leans closer into you so he can give you a small peck on the lips before he retreats. He doesn’t make it far though, simply sitting in an upright position, swivelling to place his mug on the bedside table you expect him to stand up but he simply turns back to face you, now with a plate in his hands. A plate full of pastries.

You gawk at him. “You tricked me,” is all that comes out of your mouth.

The triumphant smile stays on Jins lips as he picks up a pastry, then offers you the plate.

“I didn’t. I had to come all the way over here,” he points to the spot he is sat, mere centimetres away from his early position, if that. “It was very tough. Especially this early. I definitely deserve a date after all that effort.”

“I thought you were going to go downstairs,” you continue.

“And I did. Just earlier,” he takes a bite and chews, but his eyes remain on you.

You follow suit, unable to form any words you shove a pastry in your mouth to avoid having to think of anything.

“Unhappy with the deal?” He asks.

You weren’t. You wanted to go on a date, but you were slightly unhappy, or maybe just shocked, at the way that he had coaxed you into it.

“No,” you pout at him when you swallow your mouthful of food.

He laughs at the expression on your face before pushing himself closer to you. Pastries abandoned somewhere on the bed, his arms come to wrap around you, face coming to yours.

“I’ll take you somewhere really great, I promise,” he says, mouth mere millimetres from yours you can almost feel it move.

“You better,” you say before closing the gap and placing your lips on his.

567 notes · View notes

multimetaverse · 3 years ago

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HSMTMTS 2x06 Review

Yes, And was a messy ep that brings us to the halfway point of the season. Let’s dig in!

Tonight took some big steps towards the Rini breakup. The conflict isn’t quite earned as they did too much too quickly in making Ricky overbearing; to go from Ricky supporting Nini going to YAC and them singing love songs to each other just 3 eps ago to Ricky now accusing Nini of changing because she didn’t get pineapple on her pizza just doesn’t work. Largely that’s because it’s clear that the writers are working backwards from an outline that requires Rini to be broken up before the finale.

The Rose song is great and Olivia’s vocals are wonderful as always but again it’s not quite earned. The lyrics make it seem like Nini thinks Ricky is holding her on a pedestal and holding her back when that’s not what we’ve seen on screen. Ricky and Nini went through a lot as they were finding their way back to each other and they learned not to see each other through rose coloured glasses and while Ricky was sad that Nini went to YAC he was supportive and respected her wishes, notably the only time he admitted how much he wanted Nini to come back to Salt Lake was after Nini had already made up her mind to return.

Rini was always going to break up both because writers struggle with writing happy or stable couples and because Tim became enamoured of Rina after writing 1x05 and will want to explore them at some point. Tim’s claimed that he has future seasons all planned out but I’m skeptical that he’s really thought out how to keep Ricky and Nini and Gina on goodish terms with each other for the remaining 2 seasons of the show while also not completely closing the door on the Rini endgame the show’s been aiming towards since the pilot.

It’s clear that Ricky has unresolved issues from his mom effectively abandoning him which are impairing all his relationships. And while it’s true he could try calling Lynne it’s the parents job to reach out and she is obviously fine living her life without Ricky. Not sure how much closure we can get with Lynne when she comes back in 2x09 but I hope we at least get an apology on her part.

Yet another ep of Gina going through it. That flashback to Gina tearfully telling Ricky that she wouldn’t have ‘’given up on us’’ if she hadn’t moved certainly paints Ricky’s behaviour this season in a worse light. I do hope the show doesn’t take the cowards way out and have Ricky being too stupid to realize that Gina had romantic feelings for him. Though again we run into the problem that these emotions aren’t fitting the story. There really wasn’t an ‘us’ for Gina to fight for, she and Ricky had only been hanging from 1x05-1x08 and never actually dated or went on dates. Also by this point Gina should be questioning her feelings for Ricky and whether he’s worth it; it’s not like he’s done anything nice for her this season like getting her chocolates for Valentine’s Day.

Still Gina did make some strides tonight. She finally opened up to Ashlyn which seems to have lifted a weight off of her shoulders and makes the decision to stay in Salt Lake. She also brushes off Ricky wanting to be improv partners which leads to her accepting EJ’s offer which led to a sweet callback to them being wonderstudies. I’m glad she’s not going to Louisiana but it does mean we were robbed of a HSMTMTS/Secrets of Sulphur Springs crossover.

Kourtney and Howie are finally together. I’m glad they didn’t waste time dragging this out. Kourtney’s confession was very in character and I liked the earlier hufflepuff dragging. As an aside I wonder if say 10 years in the future, shows will still be making light hearted unqualified references to Harry Potter or will J.K. Terfling have completely destroyed the goodwill the series has by then.

Lily continues to act as if she’s in Glee working for Sue Sylvester to take down the One Directions and honestly I’m here for it. I especially liked that she stole some of the condiments on her way out of Salt Lake Slices. Antoine seems alright, the espionage bit was funny. Seems like Salt Lake City would be a pretty shitty place for a French student to study.

EJ remains underused especially since this is his last semester as a student. His Gaston answer was surprisingly thoughtful and hinted at him getting over Nini with Gina as he sat down next to her. His may I have this exercise was just the right amount of smooth and goofy.

Ashlyn had a good ep, she killed Home, Julia has a great voice. And she stood her ground with Gina but was also there for her and managed to help her decide to stay. Loved her line that she was still part Caswell.

Mike Bowen is sweet, thoughtful, and rocking that beard? Must have been hard for Miss. Jenn to let him go but ultimately she made the right decision as it would just be too messy to date the parent of one of your students.

Lots of funny little moments this ep; the camera panning to the exit sign during Gina’s confessional, the group chat with Miss. Jenn and the real group chat without her, Seb hula-hooping with wild abandon.

Looking Ahead:

Well we’re now at the official halfway mark of the season. It’s been an uneven first half, lots of pacing issues, and clear signs of the covid pandemic impacting production. Disney + has announced that future seasons of Disney + originals will be released on Wednesdays from now on so we have that to look forward to for S3 and S4.

Carlos uploading the Rose song will inevitably lead to disaster. Nini is very right to tell Kourtney not to let Ricky know, the lyrics paint him in a very bad light. The song gives us more context for why Lily said to Ricky that his gf needed some space in the trailer. I suspect Lily will end up being the party crasher that Ricky re-evaluates in 2x12, I don’t think Tim is going to keep Lily as a one dimensional antagonist this entire season.

Ricky said in 2x01 that he’s never breaking up with Nini again and I think that’s true because Nini will break up with him. I think it comes before 2x12, maybe them exploring an old haunt in 2x08 is where it happens though the description for 2x11 also sounds like it could be hinting at a Rini breakup.

Well we now know what one of the secrets rising between Gina and Nini will be in 2x10, Nini was already jealous of Gina and Ricky in S1 and I doubt she’ll enjoy hearing that Gina confessed to Ricky in 1x10. Since Gina has already confessed to Ricky it makes it less likely that her speaking her truth in 2x12 is related to her and Ricky.

EJ and Gina doing the morning announcements starts next ep, that should be fun. Especially since Mazzara is aware of EJ’s feelings for Gina. There’s a pretty clear path to end the season with Portwell or at least set it up for S3. EJ already likes Gina, the announcements help bring them closer, Gina starts getting over Ricky and realizes that EJ puts her first, maybe Mazzara helps one or both of them at the cast party, and Gina shares her truth and confesses to EJ. So far the show hasn’t done anything it can’t pull back from but sooner or later the writing will have to commit one way or the other. One thing I’ll say is that it’s already clear that making EJ a senior was a big mistake and I expect it to cause a lot more problems for the show in the remaining two seasons.

There’s also a path for Ricky and Gina to get together but that seems less likely given the clear mess Ricky is right now. Seeing his mom in 2x09 probably helps a bit but it’s hard to see how any relationship Ricky gets into won’t swiftly crash and burn. There’s also the matter of when exactly Rini break up, if it’s too late in the season then there wouldn’t be time to jump right into Rina. There’s also the matter of the unexpected facetime call he gets in 2x10 and the party crasher he re-evaluates in 2x12. Even if they’re not linked it does suggest there will be some curveballs in Ricky’s story and at least the party crasher info suggests there’s some non Rini or Rina related twist being planned for Ricky in 2x12.

Until next week Wildcats

#HSMTMTS #Rini #Rina #Portwell #Ricky Bowen #Gina Porter #Nini Salazar-Roberts #EJ Caswell #HSMTMTS Reviews

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rosalielesbianhale · 4 years ago

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The human Jacob AU that no one asked for but I can’t stop thinking about

° The books are the same up to the movie theatre with Mike and Jake (except there are no mentions of Sam’s “gang” because it isn’t a thing, Embry is still hanging out with Jacob and Quil, Jake isn’t afraid he’s next)

° Jacob and Bella have a little laugh at Mike’s expense but make sure he gets home safe.

° Jacob doesn’t get “mono” and drop off the face of the earth, he and Bella just keep getting closer.

° and so, Jacob is with her when she find the meadow and Laurent finds her

° in my version of events Laurent did not decide to suddenly side with Victoria because that makes absolutely no sense. He had no trouble ditching her and James in the first book and has supposedly found a partner in Irina who is friends with the Cullens so why would he be doing Victoria a favour and scouting the area?? make it make sense.

° no, instead, Victoria located him and started asking questions about the Cullens and he, trying to dissuade her from going against them, tells her what he’s learned about them since coming to stay with the Denalis. Alice’s visions, Edward’s mind reading, he lets it all slip in the ernest belief she’ll decide it isn’t worth going after Bella, after all evasion is her heightened power; she should cut her losses and run.

° after talking to Victoria, Laurent decides to warn the Cullens, he has a bad feeling after their talk and suspects she won’t give up so easily.

° he finds the house empty which is peculiar, they seemed so invested in this little human and who do you think he runs across in the meadow but that very human accompanied by a friend.

° he tells her about his talk with Victoria but there is a menacing undertone to everything he says. He is trying not to kill humans for Irena’s sake but as his eyes can attest to, he’s had some slip ups, and, really, she does smell delicious. If she is no longer under the Cullen’s protection then there would really be very little harm in draining her and there’s only one witness to take care off. It might even be a mercy because if Victoria gets her hands on her she would not make it quick, he’d do it as painlessly as possible.

° all of this is said aloud because the reader has no insight into Laurent’s mind otherwise and he seems like a person who’s inclined to give the occasional monologue

° he tells her to run, before he changes his mind

° meanwhile, Jacob is freaking the fuck out. As soon as they reach the road Bella guns it for her truck while Jacob just keeps up a continuous stream of “what the fuck. what the fuck. what the actual fuck. they’re actually fucking vampires? what the fuck. oh, god, dad was right. What The Fuck.”

° after that the whole story comes out, how Jacob was actually the person who helped her figure it out, how she had envisioned spending eternity with Edward and how, now that he’s gone, she hasn’t just been robbed of the person she loves but of what she had come to accept as her future. She has never been able to confide in anyone about the whole story so she tells him everything, right down to what actually happened when she got injured in Phoenix. It’s not like they’re coming back, it doesn’t matter if she tells Jacob.

° Jacob is understandably on overload, Bella drives him home and he says he needs some time.

° this is when Bella starts trying to reach Jacob but he’s unreachable. He’s processing a tremendous amount of information and needs some time away from the madness of Bella’s life.

° Bella starts to get restless. Jacob isn’t talking to her, she feels isolated and she needs to see Edward. She jumps off the cliff.

° I kind of want Sam to be the one who sees her jump and who fishes her out of the water tbh. He doesn’t have Charlie’s number so he calls Jacob’s house.

° Jacob promptly freaks out.

° he brings Bella home, Harry Clearwater has had a heart attack.

° Jacob is frightened for Bella after her jump but he also needs to be there for his dad right now and Seth is so young, Leah seems different after she lost her dad too. He needs to be there for them.

° There’s also the fact that the girl he’s in love with is in love with a vampire but staying away from Bella did not give him the clarity he’d hoped for. It’s still a mess.

° Alice arrives, she doesn’t need blind spots in her visions to go and knock some sense into Bella. Yes, she’s alive this time but she saw her voluntarily jump off a cliff into a raging ocean. Before she left she was a mess talking about how Bella tried to commit suicide and she had to go ensure she wouldn’t attempt it a second time.

° When Jacob rolls up to the house and sees Alice there it feels as though his insides have turned to ice. Are they all back? Is he losing Bella before he ever really got to tell her how he feels?

° Alice leaves to let Bella explain the situation. She tells him only Alice is back and why she came to visit.

° Jacob is a mess, this whole thing is a mess, but he’s left with the feeling that he had when he saw Alice was there. He needs to tell Bella how he feels.

° They have the almost kiss in the kitchen. Jacob is still dumb enough to answer the phone in someone else’s house, he still tells Edward that Charlie’s at the funeral.

° Alice returns, frantic. They have to leave for Volterra. However, Jacob doesn’t basically beg Bella to let Edward kill himself and stay with him. Once he understands that Bella is serious and Edward literally is going to try to get himself killed because he thinks Bella is dead he understands that the only way she can live with herself is if she tries everything she can to stop him from succeeding.

° Instead he is the voice of reason: “Bella, listen to me, Charlie is about to come home to an empty house after burying one of his best friends. He will be beside himself with worry and this note is bullshit, you’re a horrible liar. Tell him you’re staying with Alice tonight because you’re going to Seattle together in the morning, there’s a sale or some shit that she wants to drag you to. Tomorrow night you call him and tell him your car broke down, you have to stay in Seattle while they order the parts for you. It might be a few days. That’ll buy you some time.”

° “And call me when you land or, I don’t know, I might worry too.”

° It feels like tearing his own heart out but he lets her go. He doesn’t beg her to stay.

° The events at Volterra play out the same way they did but Charlie isn’t left to deal with the same amount of shit he was in the original.

° When they return Jacob comes to visit her, she fills him in and, let me tell you, he has a few things to say.

° “I can’t believe you’re just going to get back together with him. Bella he lied to you, manipulated you and left you. His sister can see the god damn future, if you think he didn’t know how this would affect you then you’re wrong. And he still did it. Maybe he’s telling you the truth and he did it because he thought it would be better for you in the long run but he made that decision without you. If you just take him back then you are essentially telling him that was an okay thing for him to do and it just wasn’t.”

° Jacob is so angry at the Cullens and really, what he’s saying isn’t wrong. The angrier he gets the more Bella can feel her own anger flaring to life, it had been buried under the sheer relief of finding Edward alive, the euphoria of being told that he still loves her. Now she feels indignant; how dare he just make this decision for her, how dare he not take into account her own feelings on the matter, how dare he prioritise his own concerns over hers, and how dare the entire family just go along with it. They all left her.

° She drives herself over to the Cullen’s house to have a talk with them. The vote stays the same, the “if you don't want me, then I'm not going to force myself on you, whether Alice is willing or not” part definitely stays in. However, Bella, after having taken the vote has a few choice words for all of them. “You all left me. I have spent months trying to learn to survive without you and it didn’t go all that well. I want to join you, I really do. But I don’t trust you anymore. You all made an enormous decision for me, without my say so. You’ve now made another decision that I was a part of and even though we don’t all agree, we all got a say. It’s going to take time for me to learn to trust you again, in the meantime all I have to say is this: you will never make a decision regarding me without my input again. Never.”

° She also talks to Alice separately, discounting Edward she feels the most hurt by the fact that she would have left her.

° Since Jacob is now the only person outside of the Cullens who she can actually talk to about her life, she tells him about her talk with them, including the vote.

° Jacob has an understandable freakout regarding the fact that Bella has definitively chosen to become a vampire. This is definitely not what he’d thought would happen after he and Bella had their last talk. And because he’s an impulsive teenager he brings Charlie the motorcycle, hoping that Bella will be grounded and get some distance from Edward and maybe even change her mind.

I have a lot of thoughts regarding the continuation of the series but it’s already a mammoth post so idk, i might do a separate post about Eclipse at some point.

#my shit #new moon #jake #jacob black #pbm #twilight #twilight renaissance #nm #long post

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angelicamerlinbarnes · 3 years ago

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Modern AU: "Lilies"

Severus knows Lily is dead before James comes by to tell him. How, you ask?

Well, because she shows up in his kitchen on Sunday morning, translucent, to yell at him about his life choices.

Severus is living in a rundown old white house that he used to share with his wife Lily. She left him for James, a musician travelling with the other half of his duo act, Sirius. Last Severus heard, the two of them are world famous and Lily and James have had a son named Harry.

As it happened, five years ago James and Sirius had come to town for Sirius to reconnect with his little brother, Regulus. As they had a falling out and a difference of opinion regarding their parentage, their relationship remained just as strained and cold as it had always been despite Sirius’ best efforts. While James spent most of the visit having a smoky and lazy affair with Regulus, he met Lily at the grocery store one day and it was love at first sight. She’d left Severus a month later, choosing to travel the world with James, and had had Harry within the year.

During this visit, Remus, who had been married to Tonks at the time with a child on the way, had fallen deeply in love with Sirius, but had broken Sirius’ heart when he chose to keep his marriage vows rather than run away with him. Sirius tried to keep in touch with Remus after he and James left, but Remus never replied, though Sirius never stopped sending letters. Remus’ wife died two weeks after their son Teddy’s premature birth from complications, and Teddy followed in the hours after. Overwhelmed with grief, Remus shut himself away, only going out for work and to drink. The night he got fired from his job as a teacher, he drank so much he got into an accident on his way home, and is now confined to a wheelchair. That, paired with his self-inflicted scars and depression, led to a suicide attempt that Severus saved him from. Now, Remus is still a recluse, though he now works as a librarian, volunteers at the orphanage, and takes the time to have tea with Severus every day.

Severus grows lilies in his garden in memory of his wife, and nearly dies of a heart attack when her ghost shows up in his kitchen one Sunday morning. She yells at him about throwing away his life for her when she was clearly never worth it and Severus yells back at her for leaving him. But while their new living arrangement is a bit stiff, they remember why they loved each other well enough, so they get on fine, though Lily still cries about missing James and Harry nearly every day.

James shows up in town about a week later with Sirus and Harry in tow, saying he came to deliver a letter Lily left Severus upon her death, since she’d been sick for a long time. Severus invites them in for tea, because he’s British and he’s polite, and Sirius spends most of the time staring at Remus’ house through the window and asking questions about him. James holds Harry on his lap while Lily’s ghost fusses over both of them, though neither of them can see or hear her. Severus still hates James for stealing his wife, but it’s faded into a dull ache by now, especially as seeing James is now a single father, though James does assure him that since Sirius is his partner, Harry will be far from alone.

Though originally only planning to stay long enough to deliver the letter, James decides to stick around for a bit for unspecified reasons. (It’s not because Sirius and Remus both just smiled stupidly at each other for five gay minutes when they were reunited. Of course not.) As he usually leaves Sirius with Remus for the two of them to catch up, James takes to leaving Harry with Severus when he becomes too overwhelmed with grief to take care of him. Severus grows fond of the boy, and often translates Lily’s stories for him since Harry can’t see his mother the same way Severus can.

James tries to patch up his relationship with Regulus, but Regulus is not hearing of it, feeling abandoned and hurt since James left him for Lily. This does however make him more perceptible to Sirius, who is delighted to have his little brother back in his life, though his strained and shy relationship with Remus is wearing on him. Regulus tells James and Sirius that he had a partner, Amir, who died in a home break-in and Regulus, who is trans, suffered a miscarriage of their daughter upon hearing the news. Severus and Remus take care of him, though their own unstable mental states make it difficult some days. Working at the library with Remus helps, he says, but still refuses to speak to James and is tolerating but far from welcoming of Sirius. Only at Severus’ advice that he would be a far happier person if he just allowed Sirius into his life does Regulus begin to open up towards both his brother and his brother’s partner.

James stays at Severus’ house per Lily’s request, and Harry grows quite attached to Severus. Remus begins to spend more and more time with Severus, growing increasingly anxious about his strenuous relationship with Sirius. Lily and Severus begin to slip back into a domestic relationship even though she’s a ghost, and Severus tells Remus about it, believing he’s going crazy. Remus shrugs and says he still hears Teddy crying sometimes.

As times passes, James and Severus slip into a limbo of sorts. As James has become increasingly close to Remus through Sirius, they spend more time together than ever before, and end up falling for each other in their shared grief. Still, despite their unofficial connection, Severus encourages Regulus’ feelings for James, believing them the better match and hoping Regulus can find some sort of happiness after all the shit he’s been through. Unfortunately, this all comes to a head when one day Sirius and Remus break up in an explosive fight, leading James to leave with Sirius and Harry in tow. Severus bids them a bitter goodbye and settles into taking care of Remus and Regulus, both of whom are now far more broken than they were before.

Remus tries to kill himself again. Severus is alerted to this by Lily, who has been doting on Remus since finding out about his and Sirius’ love for each other. Severus races Remus to the hospital, getting him there just in time. Regulus is beside himself, and Severus calls James using the hospital phone, saying he thought he and Sirius should know. James hangs up on him, but shows up in the waiting room with Sirius and Harry three hours later. Severus offers to drive James home, since only family can stay and no one is doubting that Sirius is Remus’ husband even if there are no papers to prove it, and by his rights, Regulus is allowed to stay as well. On the way back to Severus’ house they have a conversation about their feelings for each other, though Severus continues to insist that James choose Regulus instead of him. This evolves into a shouting match until their attention is so far from the road that a semi crashes into them, gravely injuring Severus and hurting James severely, though Harry remains unharmed save a few cuts and bruises. James breaks down over Severus’ body, trying desperately to call 9-1-1, but it’s no use. Severus passes away in Lily’s ghostly arms, James’ screams still echoing in his ears.

Severus wakes up in his house, surrounded by the things Lily destroyed in her anger at him and James over the past few months. Lily is pressing kisses all over his face and crying, explaining that he’s a ghost now too, and stuck with her forever. Severus comments that he doesn’t think that’s too bad, and Lily slaps him but laughs anyway, drawing him into a kiss. They stay wrapped up in each other until James shows up at the house with Harry, sobbing and sagging to the ground in the doorway as both Lily and Severus wrap themselves around him, whispering, “Oh, Jamie…”

Sirius is trying to take care of James and Harry, but he’s pretty much a wreck himself, having been sleeping with a record number of men since his and Remus’ break-up and drinking and smoking his problems away. He’s been writing in manic frenzies, mostly songs about unrequited love, and has spent the rest of his time enduring depressive slumps. Remus is released from the hospital and tries to help him, but is struggling to deal with the loss of Severus, even if he has Sirius back.

Regulus begins to shoulder much of the responsibility of James’ care. He watches over James while Sirius and Remus watch over each other, and comes to care for Harry like a son. Sirius loves him for it, and does his best to pitch in where he can. Though his trust issues and grief are incapacitating, Sirius starts to rebuild his relationship with Remus, this time on a solid foundation of trust and truth, though it takes time. He begins to understand, through their conversations about both of the times they fell in love, why Remus chose to stay with Tonks despite his heart belonging to Sirius, and comes to a new understanding of Lily’s choice of James, as she was already pregnant with Harry by the time she left Severus, and in the minds of parents, children come first. Severus is a bit heartbroken to learn that Lily had cheated on him, but is too tired to truly be angry, and tells Lily it’s in the past now. She smiles at him and kisses his cheek.

James, meanwhile, is working himself into a downward spiral. He’s wondered for years whether Lily ever really loved him like he loved her or if she just chose him because of Harry, and he’s also felt terribly guilty for stealing her from Severus no matter how much he loved her. While he tried to treat Severus right, he knew it was a failed pipe dream from the beginning, as he could never truly keep his heart from Regulus’ delicate hands. Severus and Lily both try to speak with him, but in vain, as he cannot see them.

The ghosts try to take care of Harry, though he can’t see them either. As it comes to be, Sirius and Remus rebuild themselves and each other enough to give Harry and James a stable home. Their partnership with James gives him the strength to keep going, and he begins to make things right with Regulus, who seems happier these days despite all his sadness. As the years pass, Severus and Lily watch their family grow. Sirius and Remus marry, adopting four children from the orphanage where Remus volunteers: Luna, Hermione, Newt, and Draco. They and Harry make friends with the Wealsey children from down the street, and James marries Regulus in a quiet ceremony shortly after tying himself to Sirius and Remus permanently. Lily’s body is moved to their town and buried beside Severus, and the two ghosts settle down in their graves, willingly passing on.

And in case you were wondering… (which I know you’re not)

Remus makes Sirius quit smoking. He and James give up their famous lifestyle for their spouses and children, settling in the town where this all began. Sirius and Regulus build a strong relationship that does not fray or break any longer. Sirius is Harry’s second favorite person after James, and Harry makes Remus take him to visit Severus and Lily’s graves at least three times every year. Sirius loves Remus a lot, but that’s okay, because Remus loves Sirius a lot too.

Sirius is James’ favorite person and he loves him so fucking much - Remus too. He misses Severus and Lily every day, but he’s got their son and the flowers to remember them by. He thinks maybe he could have a Happily Ever After here, maybe. If the world stands still long enough.

Meanwhile, Peter has lived in a homeless shelter since he got dumped by his ex-wife Mary, who is a kindergarten teacher now dating Dorcas the karate teacher and Marlene the bartender. He meets Max and their son Seamus there and falls in love with Max immediately, eventually building a home with them on a generous gift from Sirius that allows him to start up his own bakery. Though Remus offers to put him up every time he visits, Peter always refuses, though he bakes him plenty of thank you muffins once he’s out. James comes to Peter for advice about all of his relationships, and Peter indulges him every time, though really he just wants to bake cookies and sleep. Peter is the happiest person in this story how is that possible

Mcgonogall is the head librarian who listens to hard rock and has her wards (Sirius, Remus, and James) over for tea when she needs to give any of them a swift kick in the rump for their stupid life decisions. Dumbledore and Grindelwald are a married couple who grow petunias in their garden and live next to Mcgonogall, since she and Dumbledore are partners. Grindelwald glares at everyone and everything and Dumbledore hums Beatles songs under his breath off-key and brings an open umbrella on his walks on sunny days, so yeah. The Weasleys are the nutcases who run the orphanage and the homeless shelter, Peggy Schuyler is Newt’s best friend and a schoolmate of the children’s, and life is alright.

Yeah I don’t know what this is either.

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kyberphilosopher · 4 years ago

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ᴊᴀʏᴜꜱ

Following the retaking of Trost, Eren has an interaction with an undefined relation, leading to the resurfacing of the memory.

Word Count: 1564

Jayus- (n.) a joke so poorly told and anti-comedic you can’t help but to laugh.

You really had thought he had died.

In defense of yourself, most people had. It wasn’t as if Eren had made any particular effort to keep in contact. Not that you were blaming him. You probably wouldn’t have either, if it were anybody else.

You used to see Eren around Shiganshina. Armin and Mikasa were never too far behind, and so you saw at an early age that he was simply the leader of the pack. Admirable, if not for the hard headedness that came with it. Eren seemed to lead in that area as well.

You didn’t talk to him before that. Saw him, noted him- but never spoke. It wasn’t until you’d joined the cadets of the same class that interactions actually involved communication.

First, you hung around Ymir and Krista silently. Krista introduced you to Sasha and Connie, who called you to sit over with the rest of the inner circle at lunch. From there on out you were typically associated with Annie, who you didn’t actually talk to as much as other people assumed. You were quiet, but accepted, and Eren finally got to put a name to the face, which was nice.

He asked if you had any tips on using the ODM gear, to which you admitted to being little help on the matter. You weren’t bad by any means, but you weren’t sure how to give advice on something that had come naturally. Luckily, Eren was understanding. He had, however, scrunched up his nose at your suggestion of, “Jean might be able to give you better advice”.

“Right. Like that clown would know about anything besides eating grass...”

And that was the first time he made you smile.

It was the first time you’d smiled since the Titans arrival. It was one of the few things that had given Eren a sense of warmth in his stomach. There was a click.

After that, Eren had questioned you about your homeland. You answered, not even phased that he hadn’t remembered you from childhood. You had teased him about it at least, but he was quick to apologize. Nothing serious. You barely even had a paranoia attack from remembering that day.

There was really never a lot of words exchanged between the two of you. But there was a certain connection.

Eren was just as hot headed as you’d observed him to be. He was loud spoken and brash, and certainly didn’t think things through as much as he should’ve. He had tendency to be the center of attention, it turned out. This was a stark contrast to yourself, who was silently wise and calculating. Eren was upfront about himself and what anyone could expect from him. You were more of a mystery. But you couldn’t blame Eren for acting out when and how he did. He had something he felt he had to prove. He had an intense anger. And while you may not have possessed as much as he did, you liked the character it gave him.

You would’ve never said it- and nobody would ever have asked- but Eren was your favorite. You’d had a crush on him, though you hadn’t given it much thought or validation. And Eren had a crush on you, but his mind wasn’t one to linger on one specific person against the grand scheme of things.

But then Eren had died at Trost. Armin confirmed it. Mikasa confirmed Armin. What was done was done.

So what kind of joke was this?

Why was Eren Jaeger watching at you from across the room now? It’s not a clone- his eyes are far too pure and raw for it to be an illusion of any kind. They shone in the light like planets that Armin would go on about. His hair was dark as ever. A little long, but you hadn’t any mind. His skin was roughed up, with markings around his eyes that reminded you of war paint. The only thing that had could remind you that the boy had once indeed died was the ripped sleeve on his left side, from the day a titan had bitten through it in Armin’s stead.

You’d heard about what happened. How Eren was a titan. How he had sealed Trost in his titan form. You hadn’t believed it much. It was hard to get behind, in all fairness. But you hadn’t been present at the time of all the announcements. You had been assigned to a small group of cadets going behind wall Maria after the official retreat in order to get more gas. You’d remember feeling especially bitter towards the end of that assignment, as Mikasa had directly referred to you as a coward.

You’d made it back in time to help in the defense of Eren sealing the wall again, killing a total of five titans that day. Still, the damage between you and Mikasa had been done. Annie was right about her being pretentious, anyway.

But you hadn’t believed that Eren was really alive.

So that brings you to reality. The one where Eren watches you from across the dimly lit mess hall as everyone else files out. You’re not sure whether to break contact or not. You’re sure, at least, that you missed him. But your relationship wasn’t forward enough or labeled enough for you to audibly or physically express that.

Once everyone is gone, Erens eyes narrow slightly. They’re just as colorful as you remember.

“I thought you would’ve been happy to see me,” he calls out to you, though it’s low and somewhat reminds you of a threat.

You shift your feet so that your shoulders are fully facing him, square. There’s a clay cup in your hands. You put that down on the table in any attempt to give Eren as much of your attention as possible, but your brain is cloudy from thinking of him too much at this point.

“I thought you were dead,” you call back. “You hadn’t contacted me for three days. I started to think the rumors weren’t true.”

Eren doesn’t say anything. He has dark rings under his eyes that tell you he’s tired. Bruises cover his skin. There’s the corner of a white bandage peaking out from under the collar of his shirt. There is nothing about the boys appearance to suggest that he is a titan. In fact, he looks more vulnerable and human than most anyone you know.

“No. I’m alive,” Eren states.

“Yeah. Clearly.”

Silence.

You and Eren aren’t friends. It’s just not the right word. But you do share a bond through the common denominator of trauma. Lovers? The passion was there. The courage and capability, however, was somewhat lacking. Companions? Closer.

“I’d thought it was a joke,” you admit. Your tone comes off more bitter than you’d intended. Eren will assume you’re angry with him if you’re not careful. Maybe he already does.

“Not a funny one, I’m assuming,” Eren returns. The look in his eyes tells you that your suspicion of his feelings may be correct. If Eren continues on in believing that you have ill will towards him, he won’t hesitate to act in kind. You doubt he cares what your relationship towards him will be then. A hot headed man is a hot headed man.

Another moment of silence goes by. Your hands are getting sweaty as you look at him. You scuff them against your trousers in an attempt to dry them. You’re trying to stay frozen, which isn’t easy as you think of all the things you could say to him.

Eren isn’t moving. He is still and strong, with steady eyes and furrowed brows. If you don’t apologize, his brain will have no choice but to resent you. It’s just how his works. So with a slight trembling in your voice, you speak out: “I’m not angry with you, Eren.”

Eren’s shoulders drop slightly as a thin layer of stress leaves. At this, your own tension threatens to sink away. You’re certain you’re in love with him at that very moment, but the specific words don’t come directly to mind.

You don’t know how the specific memory continued from there. But you do know that there would be a repeat. A repeat you’re living again.

But this time you’re at the edge of the world. Right where the earth touches the sea, between the exact edges of heaven and hell.

He’s beside you. He hasn’t left.

But he won’t meet your eyes either.

Eren’s hair is longer this time. You don’t mind. It suits him, and so is yours. His muscles have toned out by now. He’s more intelligent and mature. Eren won’t be angry if you’re angry with him first, this time. And while there is a certain rage that’s bubbled under your skin over the years, it’s still not worth mentioning to him.

It’s now, however, as you look over at the man, that you are sure that this is all just one big, unfunny, poorly thought out joke. Especially now that you’ve come to terms with your own, unfunny, poorly thought out, version of love.

This, the punchline of the joke, is the moment that you are sure you miss him. You will have little shame in expressing it this time.

___________ _______ ____

This character belongs to the Attack on Titan (Shingeki no Kyojin) universe. I’ll be branching out to this one and Harry Potter, alongside Star Wars. Just wanted to put something out so everyone’s aware I’m still writing.

Please be patient as I continue with requests.

#eren yeager #eren #aot #eren x reader #eren jaeger x reader #eren yeager x reader #eren fanfiction #attack on titan #attack on titan fanfiction #attack on titan x reader #eren jaeger imagines #eren yeager imagines #imagines #fanfiction #x reader

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malfoys-demigod · 4 years ago

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Favorite Quill - Draco Malfoy x Reader

Summary: After losing your favorite quill by accident, Draco makes the Holiday right with a surprise.

Tagging @the--queen-of-hell <3

A/N: I hope you all enjoy this fluff!

One week until Winter Break. One more week until most students can go home, spending the Holidays with their respective families whom they have not seen in months. One more week until some students can finally have the castle to themselves as they spend a quiet little winter break alone at Hogwarts.

What did everyone have to go through before Winter Break, though?

Quarterly exams.

It was that awful week before the Winter Break where everyone would have to set their minds on studying mode instead of thinking about what presents they might receive during the holidays.

People like Hermione Granger did not have a problem with that. She was part of those few people who were excited to take their quarterly exams as they were more prepared than ever. However, her friends Harry and Ron were part of the other set of people who just want to be done with the quarterly exams even if they did horrible in it.

You on the other hand, was somewhere in the middle between these sets of people. Sure, you wanted so badly to take the Hogwarts Express train and see your parents as soon as possible. You haven’t seen them in months and being in their presence would really be glad to feel. But at the same time, you’ve been doing well with your academics that there was this feeling of confidence in you that you would ace your exams.

One of those reasons why you can’t wait to take the exams was because of your favorite quill.

You weren’t exactly superstitious, (maybe a little stitious - please get that Office reference) but you considered your favorite quill to be a lucky charm that you possessed.

What exactly made it your lucky charm? Well it all started when you and your parents were in Diagon Alley.

It was that week before your first year at Hogwarts that your parents brought you to the famous Diagon Alley to buy your school supplies. Robes? Check. Wand? Check. Books? Check. Everything else was going well until seeing that one perfect quill by the other side of the street made everything perfect. Before leaving the alley, you couldn’t help but notice the simple yet white glowing quill, presented in the glass window of the shop across you.

You tugged your father’s coat, signaling that you wanted to enter the quill shop before you all left for home. The moment you went inside, you made a beeline to the quill and felt the smoothness of its feather as you watched the white creamy color hollow in your eyes.

The teller of the store went around to see you, infatuated with the quill. “Limited edition, very unique.” He spoke. He was explaining how there were only 7 models made for that very edition. One of each sent that to the 7 continents in the world and you were just lucky to have one of them sitting in a store in Diagon Alley.

Your parents were fortunate enough to hear the story of the quill that they said, “How about we buy that, sweetheart?” It was a speechless moment for you as you were extremely overjoyed considering any child would be up in the moons if they hear their parents allowing them to get what they want.

With that quill, you were always determined to do your best in your academics. Whether it be simply taking down notes, writing an essay, or taking exams, you always had your favorite quill with you, acting as that lucky charm every year.

Draco of course knew this story. He was first curious to why you were infatuated with a quill. He first saw you during your first year by the library, writing an essay with a happy face.

“Aren’t we happy to be writing an essay today, Y/L/N?” he approached you, standing up so confidently as he stood beside your chair.

Usually you’d reply with a snarky remark just like him but you surprisingly smiled warmly and began talking about the story of your favorite quill.

Draco too was a little surprised that there was no snarky remark but a pleasant story. “Well that’s quite a story you’ve got there, Y/L/N,” he gave a small smile and nod as he walked away.

Now years later in the present time, you were having another year of winter break exams. There was nothing to be worried about as you were prepared and equipped with your favorite quill.

It was the morning of the last day of examinations. One more day until you could pack your things and see your parents.

You were in the Great Hall having your morning cup of pumpkin juice with Pansy, Blaise, and Theodore. Pansy was discussing her potions notes with Theodore while Blaise was teasing you about your obsession with your quill.

“I don’t understand how that could be a lucky charm, Y/N. All you need is to be prepared with your studies and have a go with the test. No quill can magically show you the answers,” he teased.

Pouting, you smacked him in the arm as he drank his juice. “Nonsense, Blaise! Don’t even bother as to what the muggles say, ‘jinx’ my luck.”

Before Blaise could playfully roll his eyes, Draco entered the Great Hall nonchalantly as his eyes were on you. He hooked an arm on you as he sat down and gave you a kiss on the cheeks. “Morning, love.”

“Ready for the last day of exams, Dray?”

“Actually, I was actually wondering if I could use your quill today,” he nervously asked, “I know you barely lend your quills to anyone, even me, but I really would love to ace my potions examinations before the day ends.”

Hesitant at first, you raised your eyebrows jokingly as you watched Draco use his secret puppy dog eyes on you with a pout in the end.

“Promise you’ll give it back at the end of the day?,” you asked. Of course you would lend him your favorite quill. He was probably the only person you would lend your quill to.

Draco planted many small kisses on around your face as a sigh of many thanks. Pulling out your quill from your sling bag, you looked at Draco with a serious face as you slowly and carefully lent your quill to him.

“See you at the end of the day, sweetheart.”

“With my quill.”

—

Draco felt a wave of relief in his body as he found you sitting in the common room reading the Daily Prophet. He dropped his bags and jogged towards the couch. “There you are, darling! I was looking all over for you,” he sighed.

You didn’t mind Draco’s existence as he was standing, towering behind you while you calmly sat on the couch, continuing your reading.

Unfortunately he was still standing behind you, waiting for a response from you as he brushed your hair with his fingers.

“Go away,” you rolled your eyes, “I’m still not talking to you.”

“Are you serious,” he asked, “you’re still angry at me?”

Angrily standing up, you threw the newspaper onto the floor and turned around to face a scared Draco. “Of course I’m bloody angry! It was only this afternoon that you lost my quill! I honestly don’t know how you can lose my quill in a castle we live in everyday!”

“It’s a big castle, Y/N.”

“Not helping at all!”

You went to your dorm room and got a hold of your baggage and started making your way outside of the common room.

Draco was still standing outside by the couches, placing a hand on his forehead. When his eyes met yours, he ran towards you, holding your forearm to prevent you from moving.

“What.”

“I’m sorry. You know that.”

“I’ll see you after the holiday. Quill-less.” Being the nice person you were, you planted a small peck on the cheek and removed his hand off from you and left the common room.

Draco gave a small sad smile, looking down at the floor. His heels turned around and made a beeline towards the couch where you stormed off. He couldn’t help but notice tonight’s newspaper you were reading.

There was a big advertisement on the last page located in the lower right side of the page. “Limited edition quills from around the world: coming straight to England for the auction of the year.” Then in the bottom of the message was a picture of the exact same quill that you had owned. This was fate! Draco couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He couldn’t believe his eyes.

“Thank Merlin,” he muttered to himself. Even though he too was going home to Malfoy Manor to see his parents for the holiday, he still owled a letter to his father regarding the limited edition quill that was coming it’s way to England. “-must obtain it as soon as possible.” he lettered to his father.

Of course this was Lucius Malfoy he was lettering to. Of course it would be obtained as soon as possible and when one says as soon as possible like the Malfoy’s, they mean in a span of three days. One day for Lucius to arrange a spot for the auction, a second day for the actual purchasing in the auction, and a third day for Draco to surprise you with the quill.

He wasn’t going to come over to your house and present himself with the quill. No, he was absolutely more dramatic than that. In fact, he had already established a plan the minute he stepped foot on Hogwarts express on the way home. How did it go? Well, since this is Draco Malfoy, it went as dramatic as it can be.

When Lucius came home with the quill, there lay Draco by the steps of the Manor as he finally watched his father apparated from the auction. Of course there were plenty of questions from Lucius considering how troubled Draco sounded from the letter.

When Draco finally explained what had happened with you, Lucius scoffed in return, slightly scolding Draco for doing this to the love of his life. “You better come back with an accomplished task, Draco. I expect that my trip to the auction was for something worth doing. I do not want to hear how you’ve broken her heart more,” Lucius demanded from his son, who was nodding nervously.

Draco hurried back upstairs to continue his plan. He started using your quill to write you a letter. A letter which contained him apologizing and stating his love for you. Along with the letter came the quill he finished writing with, the one he had his father auction for. He wrapped the quill in a gift box and had the owl send it to your house, as he dressed up in a fresh new black suit, along with flowers to apparate to your house.

So there you were, warming yourself by the fireplace that was located in your living room. You were sipping your favorite hot chocolate drink, indulging in it until suddenly, a familiar owl stood by the slightly open windows in your living room.

‘Is that Draco’s owl?,’ you wondered. Standing up, you were met with a gift box, a green one that was wrapped with white ribbons. Attached to the box was a letter that had a “M” stamped on it. Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. Of course.

You could not wait so instead of reading the letter like what most people would do, you set the letter aside and started unwrapping the box with curiousness. You were taken by surprise when you finally saw what was in the box. The exact quill your boyfriend Draco had lost during the week before winter break started. Before tearing up, Draco’s owl somehow signaled you into opening the letter.

‘-I hope you aren’t upset with me using your quill to write you this letter.

With all my love,

D.M.’

Those were the last things written in the letter as you started shedding a tear. Looking at the quill, you were taken back at the mesmerizing glow of its color, as if it was the first time you laid eyes on it, exactly like the day you first saw its other model when you were 11 years old.

Before you could cry even more, there was a voice from the back who spoke.

“Don’t cry, my love. You know it pains me to see you cry.”

Turning around, you saw Draco Malfoy, holding up a bouquet of your favorite flowers with a small smile on his face. “Hello, love,” he spoke again.

Your body crashed strongly with his as you wrapped your arms around his neck, sobbing quietly. “I’m sorry,” you said.

“For what? I should be the one saying that.”

“I’m sorry for lashing out on you that day.”

“Hush, my dear. You had every right to. That was your favorite thing in the world. I’m sure you love that more than me,” he said playfully.

“Of course not, Dray. But how did you get it? There’s only a few editions of those in the entire world? Don’t tell me it’s fake!,” you said, pulling away from him with an eyebrow raised at him.

“Nonsense, you know I only give you the best. In fact, that came internationally. I had my father hear about this and he auctioned for it. But I found out about it.,” he said confidently.

“It must have taken a lot to purchase that.”

“Like I said dear, I only want to give you the best. “

“Aw.”

“Now, why don’t we spend our day staring at this glorious crafted item the exact way you did with your old one?” he said with a smirk.

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afigurelikeadoll · 3 years ago

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A Quiet Love

You can find the ao3 version of this fanfic here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33703750

A/N: Yeah idk. I was just in an angsty mood today, and listened to a bunch of Marina & the Diamonds songs. Go check out this playlist for Marina songs to listen to while reading this: https://www.youtube.com/playlist?list=PLIg5s3ZyD0q2AFig6b7d7AnkkHKxl1zzZ

If you can guess which Marina song on the playlist I wrote this to fit the theme of, I'll write a fanfic based on the rarry prompts you give me :)

Trigger warning: child abuse, very fucked up self esteem and mindset

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

Ours is a quiet love, by the dark shade of midnight.

I have nothing else to think of during these moments, except of mirrored luminescence in the lake, sombre dark of midnight, and red hair a colourful contrast to my mourning.

You were an oddity, a refreshment to the long periods of dark in my life.

You, with your broken toys, hand-me-down clothing, large family, and even larger heart.

When your mother caught us by your pond behind the wooden swings, I remember her look of understanding as she silently crept back into the Burrow, leaving us in peace. I don’t think you ever even saw her. I did. I saw everything, every little detail as a child, and I continue to. I see too much.

I sometimes wondered, when I lay awake on silent nights, how my dearest Aunt Petunia would have reacted upon the same sight? She might have killed us both. Not like she hasn’t tried once before, though I suppose that had just been me. Another person, that isn’t your ward, is quite a different story. Perhaps she would have kicked us out? I don’t wish to know.

Uncle Vernon is less intelligent. He would have shot us with his rifle, only the latest model of course, on sight. The damn fags, I can hear him mutter. I almost feel fond when I imagine it. Family is family after all, I suppose. Though I suspect that my family has never even remotely thought of me with fondness in return.

Maybe they miss their slave, and Dudley his punching bag. Better than nothing.

You complain of how you feel overlooked by your family, how your achievements are nothing in the face of accomplished men as your eldest brothers. I would die to feel as you do, dearest Ronald. Your biggest problem in life is the dreaded middle child syndrome. It is remarkable.

You do not feel nearly as cold as I do, and it deeply shows in your actions. You do not hesitate when you show me affection, whether it be a kiss or a beautifully written love letter. Though you would hate to admit it, I know you are a romantic at heart.

I feel terribly jealous when I see this. You don’t even hesitate on things I will always be left questioning. You have never stopped providing your love, your boundless affection, to those that you care for.

I am a quite different person, my love. I know you feel unloved by me, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I do not show affection as freely as you, that is true. But I hope you can see love in my eyes when we walk together by the lake at dark midnight.

You are an open, honest person. You do not like secrets. To you, our love should be just as open, as free to the world as you are. You dislike a quiet love.

To me, love is as silent as a spring breeze, and as deeply contemplative as dark winter nights. Love does not need exaggeration or overt publicity. Love is just the primal connection between two people, the bond that holds life together, that can be found within the eyes of another person. No need for words or declaration. Seeing is enough.

You are different, and I respect that. You need open declarations of love, exaggerated gestures, and constant validation from your partner. Sometimes, I cannot give you that.

No one has ever loved me. Baggy Harry Potter, with the broken glasses and too-thin frame and horrible hair. I am far from beautiful. What am I, compared to people like Fleur Delacour? No one has ever liked me during my childhood, not even teachers, and I don’t think they would have even without Dudley’s influence.

You were different. You were new, special. You were the only person that had ever been kind to me. The most important person in my life, my everything. I am not foolish enough to believe that I mean just as much to you. It is not your fault. How can someone, surrounded by love and constant affection their whole life, to the point where they take it for granted, feel the ways I feel for you? The only person who cared. It will always be different.

As you have grown up, you have become a magnificent man. Smart, brave, and accomplished. Just as you always desired. You have matured in other ways as well, and quite handsomely I will say. When girls never paid any attention to you before, when you were lanky and freckly and just unremarkable Ron Weasley, they are practically throwing themselves at you now. You have not noticed yet, but someday you will. People do not remain oblivious forever.

I desperately hope, the day that you understand your own self-worth, that you do not throw me away in favour of other, better suitors, such as Lavender Brown. Maybe it’s selfish that I worry so, but I am not ashamed to admit that I am terrified of this happening.

The day might come closer than I anticipate. You have been asking me, every day, to make our love public, for strangers to gawk at us and form their own perverted, invasive conclusions about our relationship. I refuse. I hate attention, but you thrive on it.

Someday, you will get tired. Tired of ugly Harry Potter, with the broken soul and the broken heart. Someday, you will look for greener pastures, for better love that I cannot give you.

I try. I try so hard. It’s not enough, it has never been enough. Why am I never enough? Soon your need for an open love will eventually cloud over any fondness you might have for me, and we will be parted.

I will take the love I can get now. Perhaps it was foolish to believe that things could ever be different from when I was a child. No matter what, I will always be broken Harry Potter, unloved and unwanted by even his own family. No one has ever even remotely liked me. What made you any different? Soon you will realise the same as these people, and leave me as well. I just wish you didn’t pretend to love me first.

When you hold me, I know it is borrowed time that I keep you. The thought of you embracing another lover the way you did me tortures me inside, though I know that it will soon become reality instead of fantasy. That day will be several times more unbearable.

Though I suppose that it is selfish to want to keep you. You have a free heart, free desires, and open love. I can only restrict you, my love. The endless midnight walks will come to an end, the silent musings as we held each other will be no longer, and I fear that I will break that day.

But you deserve better, and what am I in the end? What do my desires matter? I am just the child soldier, meant to fight and die in battle. You deserve more. In the grand scheme of things, I do not matter. I never have, and I never will.

You do matter. You matter more than you think you do, and you will grow to be a wonderful man. And when you live your fantastical life, I will be nothing more than a memory. A dark, gloomy memory. Nothing more, nothing less. I just ask, that maybe, once a year, you spend a second to remember me with a bit of fondness. All I ask. I hope it isn’t much.

It is the day before the final battle, the day that will determine the times to come. I promise you, I will try my best to defeat Voldemort. If only for the sake of your future. I am no fool. I know I will die. But I hope, before I go, that I at least do some good for this world.

I suppose this is goodbye, my love, and I have little else to say. I will only think of our happier times, and hope that is enough.

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finelinevogue · 3 years ago

Note

Can you expand on that topic of Harry buying that island for Y/N to conserve like you touched upon on the 73 questions thing you wrote please?

oooh yes!! i didn’t think this would be something that people would bring up but i’m excited to talk about it!! enjoy;

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 3 weeks

“What about this one?”

The same question Anne and Harry had been repeating for the last two hours. Neither Anne or Harry could decide on an island that they both thought you would absolutely love - an island that Harry would buy somewhere new for you to conserve and protect, for future family vacations and eventually potentially even retire to, whenever that day may come.

He had originally thought about purchasing a large plot of land along the coastline of Italy, because it had always captured a special place in Harrys heart. He loved the people, the culture, the weather, the food and he loved you when you’re bathing in the Italian sun. The boot-shaped country was the one in which you and Harry had spent your first holiday together. It was where you’d had your honeymoon. It was where, you’re pretty sure, that Oli was conceived. It held so many precious memories, so you both thought it time to make the country more permanent in your lives and purchase a house over there.

Unfortunately, due to coronavirus, Harry wasn’t able to physically go anywhere and house, or island, hunt - especially with a 3 week old baby. Belle had been born on October 2nd and she was an absolute angel - as happy as can be. Oli and Fix were currently looking after her, whilst Anne and Harry sorted through the mess of trying to organise the gift of a lifetime for you. Luckily you were out with a friend, shopping for baby clothes and a little something for yourself, for the day so Harry could complete his surprise in secret. Harry already held property in Malibu, New York, Japan, London and Manchester. He, until recently, had an apartment in San Fransisco, but he never used it and so the money that he got from selling that was going to be spent buying an island for you.

He always remembers one of the first conversations that he ever had with you and it was about how you wanted to change the world. You’d answered “I think i’d buy my own island and start conserving the planet one bit of land at a time, until I save it all!” Now obviously you were being very optimistic and silly with your dreams, but that’s all you thought they’d be - dreams. Harry was willing to make them a reality though. Okay, perhaps not world domination but he could start small and give you the thing you’d dreamt of even as a little girl.

“Mum—” Harry sighed, knowing he would reject it just like all the other ones she’d picked out for being either, too small, too big, too dangerous, too humanised. He didn’t care about price, he just wanted to get it right. He looked over to her computer, seeing what she’d found and brought up on her screen. “Shit, wait…”

This was it.

“Mhm?” Anne smiled knowingly.

“Give me details.” Harry asked her, pulling over his notepad and pen to jot down key information. He wasn’t planning on buying today, but he was planning on making inquiries so if he thought something needed negotiating then at least he’d have the information to hand.

“Okay, um,” she looked over the screen. Harry had only seen glimpses of the the island from the photos but even now he was fully invested in it, “it’s in Phuket, Thailand. Minimally developed on. 110 acres, but you know…”

“Could lessen due to climate change, yeah.” Harry noted and looked to his mum to see if she was continuing or not.

“They are allowing an income potential so you could build and make profit from it. Then again the island itself is $160 million so it’s going to be 7018 before you even start making a profit.” Anne joked, but Harry sighed. “What, love?”

“$160 million.” Harry pondered, thinking whether this is all worth it. It’s a huge investment and potential waste of money, but it was for you.

“You’re a near billionaire Harry. What else are you going to do with all your money? You could build back half of that money just from releasing a new album with no promotion. Imagine if you released a documentary or something too. You work hard, Harry, and you will continue to, so is it so wrong to treat yourself to something nice?”

“It’s not for me, though.”

“Well then, there’s the question you to need to ask yourself.” Harry looked at his mum quizzically before she responded. “Is Y/N worth it?”

Well that was a stupid question.

“Looks like Y/Ns getting her island after all.” Harry grinned so wide, feeling so happy that he was doing this for you. You deserved this so much. Yes it was a bloody huge investment and risk, if Harry was being honest with himself, but you were ridiculously worth it. So much so that he would have bought the island even if it were double that price. Harry sighed in relief and slouched back on the chair, thinking about how happy you’re going to be when you find out. Obviously there was so much paperwork and calls that needed to be made, so it was going to take some time, but to see your face at the end of this was going to be so worth it.

“Cuppa tea then?” Anne asked, slinking out of the chair and standing up.

“Yeah, go on—” The sounds of rattling keys and the front door opening broke Harry’s sentence, making him look up at his mum in panic. Time had flew by so quickly that he’d not even realised you could’ve actually been home anytime now.

Shit, you were home.

“Quick mum, help me hide all this. Wait mum, you’re going to have to sneak out the back because Y/Ns going to have too many questions otherwise!” Harry shot up from the kitchen table and started to gather bits of paper and close the laptops down. Luckily Harry was using his work laptop and Anne had brought her own so they didn’t have to worry about clearing browser history.

“What and you can’t just say you were hanging out with your ol’ mum?” Anne asked, laughing as she packed up her stuff because she knew just how demanding and stubborn her son was.

“I love you and call me when you get home safely okay?” Harry asked, chivying her out of the back door quietly and pecking her cheeks in thanks for everything she’s done for him today.

“Alright. Love you!”

Okay, act normal Harry.

“Mummy!” You heard Oli shout from the other room. You furrowed your eyebrows as you entered the house, dropping off your shoes and bags at the door before heading into the living room, where you knew you’d find the kids.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, looking around the room to see everything was in order. In fact, your heart melted at the sight of the siblings. Oli was sat upright against the sofa and had his baby sister laying on top of his stomach with hers, and Fix was sat just to the side of them - patting his sisters back rhythmically. It was a sight for sore eyes.

“Baby Belle just smiled.” Oli beamed brightly and you smiled back at him. Even though it was slightly irrelevant of him to shout for you because of this, you couldn’t help but awe over the fact the siblings were so loving for one another.

“Did she now?” You took out your phone to take a few pictures of them. “Smile again for mummy then, all of you.” You giggled as Fix pulled the cheesiest smile and Oli did his signature smile too - no teeth and raised eyebrows so high to the sky. You even caught a golden photo where Belle was slightly smiling too. “Are you okay in here still?”

You didn’t want to feel like you were abandoning your kids, because you would never, but you needed just a day to yourself to rejuvenate and help overcome the post-natal depression slowly. As much as you so very much loved them, it was hard for you sometimes. Belle was going to be sleeping for at least another hour, so you weren’t too worried about her. Oli and Fix were ever so sensible too, simply watching Teen Titans on Cartoon Network whilst they babysat their sister. You were only a shout away if something were to happen, which made you wonder where Harry was.

“Yes mummy.” Fix nodded his head whilst keeping his eyes glued to the TV.

“Everything all right in here?” Harry’s voice came from behind you, but you’r felt his presence a lot sooner before that. He stood behind you, peering into the room to check everything was in order.

God, you’d missed him today.

“Yeah, Oli tell daddy why you called me.”

“Baby Belle smiled daddy!” Oli retold the story just as animatedly as the first time, but keeping as still as he could so not to disturb his sister.

“Did she now? You must’ve made her happy then.” Harry slunk one of his hands around your waist and squeezed the pudge that had situated there. He absolutely loved the way you’d become curvier after giving birth. He said it gave him a bit extra of you to love on, to which you always cried at the words because he never failed to make you feel so beautiful.

“I try daddy.”

“I try too.” Felix added, obviously wanting his dad to know he wasn’t not helping in taking care of Belle.

“Good boys. Proud of you both.” They both smiled after their dads words, “Now you both behave and look after Baby Belle whilst I go make mummy a cup of tea okay?”

“But come back, daddy.” They both replied and you gave them a final warm smile, before making your way to the kitchen to make a warm, milky, beverage.

“Nice day?” Harry asked, following you into the kitchen. His hand was placed lowly on your back and guided you into the room.

“Lovely, thanks. Just missed you all.” You sighed and turned around to kiss him in the middle of the kitchen. Your lips moulded to his perfectly and he tasted so sweet, you probably so sour from your lemonade you’d had earlier.

“Miss you always.” Harry murmured against your lips and then pulled away, not before giving you and extra peck though.

You walked over to the kettle and switched it on, whilst Harry collected the mugs from the cupboard you were too small to reach. He picked out one with the letter H on and one with the letter of your first name on, knowing that you’d drink from each others letters as always.

“Been busy today?” You asked, dropping teabags into the cups and leaning against the counter side as you waited for the kettle to take its’ boil.

“Kinda.” He smirked to himself, trying to dodge that question and any others you might have about the day. “Glad you’re back home though.” He walked to you and cupped the back of your head lightly, guiding your face up to his.

“Thank you for being my home.” You smiled at your cheesy comment and then lead your lips to his again.

“You are a dream, my love.” Harry said, looking deep into the eyes he could fall in love with all over again.

Just as you were about to touch lips with his you heard the wails of your tiny daughter and sighed in sync. You chuckled as you flopped your head onto Harry’s chest. As much as you wanted to stay and soak up all the love he was about to give you, your children were a priority - especially a crying baby.

“Well, your dream will have to wait hun.” You patted his chest before walking out of the room, Harry watching you go before whispering ever-so-carefully under his breath.

“But yours won’t.”

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peeterparkr · 4 years ago

Text

perennial;tom holland|six.

chapter six: yellow iris

↳ flower meaning: passion

chapter summary: hand holding and borrowed clothes.

pairing: tom holland x y/n

warnings: angsty, fluffy?... Smut??? (IS THERE SMUT? oh my god, I don’t know but if there was it would be under the * if you didn’t want to read it)

word count: 8.8k

SOCIAL MEDIA BEFORE THE CHAPTER:

masterlist & profiles five: in which James has something to say

previous chapter next chapter perennial masterlist.

perfidy ( series masterlist)

wanna be tagged?

Tags aren’t working so yeah. Anyway. I don’t know what this chapter is, enjoy. Leave comments, tell me what you think. Tell me if you catch details.. yeah. Send songs, ideas, yes. Be kind.

Y/N had let the question sit in the air long enough to make it awkward. ‘Do you want to stay the night?’

The question held a lot of meaning. It was her asking him to choose her. As if in her mind staying with her meant he chose her over Cherry. Of course that probably made no sense by it’s own but in y/n’s mind it probably did.

Her heart was beating fast, it was incomprehensible. Where had that question come from? Was it really the confirmations she needed from him? Because there was something in the back of her mind trying to scream that Tom really had moved on. That same voice was asking her to move on, too. One can never really let one's first love, but maybe it was her turn to do it.

Because how many nights had y/n not waited in that sofa near the door, hoping he’d come knocking with her more yellow flowers. Stupid of her to think that.

Because this time Tom wasn’t the one that should apologize. She’d never really truly said everything she wanted to tell him.

He didn’t answer. He had only squeezed the car wheel and stared at her.

Her heart had made the question, that was for sure. Had she been sane she wouldn’t have asked anything at all. She wouldn’t have dared to speak to him. Feelings and reason trying to find separate roads but sadly colliding into each other. That’s how it worked.

But there it was the question that had proved to him that it had lingered, that there was an open spot for him. That he had never left her heart, that she regretted ever leaving his side, and that she was asking him to stay.

Funny, she was the one asking him to stay when she had been the one to leave. But though y/n had left physically, Tom had been the first one to walk out.

“Oh my god, I’m so stupid, no, what am I doing?” y/n shook her head.

“I--” Tom coughed, nervously. “I—don’t think… Uh.”

Y/N felt rejected, stupid. An idiot. She was an idiot.

“Forget it, nothing.” Y/N opened the car door, Tom only tried to stop her by taking her hand.

“No, no don’t get me wrong I’m—”

“No.” Y/N gulped. “I’m an idiot.”

“No, no, no, no,” Tom took her hand in his. “You’re not. I’m—I want to say yes.”

His hands were sweating, and he was shaking. Y/N only looked down at his hands.

“But..I don’t know if that would—I mean y/n sleeping together-”

“You really think I’m going to go from holding your hand to having sex with you?” She sassed, and then rolled her eyes.

Tom was the one who was embarrassed now. “I mean last time we flirted for five minutes we ended up with a relationship,” he snapped.

She blushed, as she coughed. “That—that’s not how it happened.”

“It kind of did,” he smirked. He paused as he looked down at her hand. He didn’t want to leave either, but he knew that staying would compromise them in a way they were not ready for yet. He knew them both.

“Would that be too bad to wish for, though?” She wondered.

He stared at her. “No, not at all.”

“No, but I don’t want you to stay for that,” she admitted, embarrassed. She didn’t, for that matter.

He hadn’t let go of her hand, “What do you want me to stay for then?”

“I don’t know,” she confessed. “I guess I just don’t want you to leave.”

That was it. There was no further invitation to stay up all night in between the sheets, but she wanted to have him around. In a sense that she wanted him to be close.

Tom gulped. “I don’t want to leave, either.”

Y/N could notice that, he wasn’t letting go of her hand. He really didn’t want to leave because he knew that if he did, their hand holding no matter how childish would be thrown out the window and the next morning he’d have to pretend they were strangers.

“But you don’t want to stay,” y/n pointed out. And she didn’t want him to, honestly. She was in misery, and confusion. But she did. What the hell was going through her mind? His eyes gazing upon hers, his hands holding hers.

“Do you really want me to stay?” He asked.

She took a deep breath. “I don’t know.”

“Then—“

“No, I do. I do know, and I do want you to stay,” she admitted. “If I spend more time with you it’ll give me time to figure out what the hell is going on with my heart.”

“Wouldn’t it complicate things?” He said.

“Having sex would,” she pointed out.

He chuckled. “So sex was still on the table?”

“Not on the table, on my bed,” she joked. “No, I—I meant—“

He laughed as he blushed. “What did you mean?”

“I’m not having sex with you,” she stated.

Tom grimaced. “I—“

“I meant,” she sighed. “If you stayed and if it happened—which it won’t, it would be complicated, but it wouldn’t if you don’t. And if you… didn’t stay it would complicate things because now it’s in the—“

“You’re making no sense,” Tom pointed out.

“Having sex would complicate things,” she said. “But I’m not asking you to… I’m asking you to stay.” She sighed. “I’m—I just don’t want you to leave.”

He let go off her hand. “Wouldn’t your roommates mind?”

And maybe that’s when y/n’s question was answered. This wasn’t about him not wanting to stay, it was about Tom not wanting to deal with Tim. Did Tom know about it? Had Harry told him?

Probably not. Tom would’ve lost it.

“One is partying with your brother and the other one is in San Francisco,” she answered.

“Hm.”

It almost never rains in Los Angeles. When it does, it’s scarce. Yet, the universe was playing on them, laughing right in their faces. Y/N thought she had imagined it, but Tom had looked out too. It was raining in L.A.

“Is it fucking raining?” Tom said, half amused.

She gulped. “Yeah,” she chuckled. It was ironic, funny.

“We weren’t even being that dramatic but the rain said why the fuck not, huh?” He laughed.

She chuckled. “You were being dramatic.”

“But I always am,” he sighed. “And you…” He sighed. “You started it.”

“That was stupid,” she said.

“Yeah.”

“I will see you tomorrow.” She finally walked out of the car and headed to her apartment, running under the rain.

Tom, frustrated, ran a hand through his head. He gave himself a minute to think about it before running after her. He caught her mid the stairs, taking her hand again to stop her, under the rain he was unsure of the words he could say.

“Y/N,” that’s the only thing that could come out.

“ I thought we had agreed it was stupid,” she snapped. Thankful the rain had covered the teardrops that had started to come out. Because she was angry. And sad, but her stupid heart wanted to kiss him. Her stupid heart was louder.

“No. But y/n we both know that it will end up happening if I walk through that door,” he said. The raindrops falling down his face.

She looked up at him. “You didn’t even hear what I wanted to offer.”

He approached her. He didn’t understand why he was so flustered and confused.

It was stupid, He only placed took her hands in his, she had softened at his touch.

“Y/N, but-”

She looked down at his hands again. “Maybe I’m just asking you to stay to hold hands all night.”

“I think we need to talk,” he declared again.

She nodded. “I know.”

“I really don’t want to fuck it up with you this time,” he admitted. “And look, maybe… you said it. We—We can’t really forget the past—but.”

“Forgetting the past is a terrible idea,” she interrupted.

“But I also—just want to say fuck everything and kiss you,” he admitted a she cupped her face.

He was hesitating. Y/N was, too. It was a very complicated feeling. To be angry at the love of her life but knowing that she’d probably run out of chances to love him if he didn’t stay. Standing there, shaking, with his hands on her cheeks, cold rain falling both their cheeks.. Why did this have to be so dramatic?

Though it really wasn’t, it was barely raining, just a few drops.

She laughed. Because it was so stupid. And ironic. And there’s a fine line, very thin line... Between doing something that you might regret in the morning and not doing it and regretting it all your life. Whatever she did, though, she would end up regretting. Whether he stayed or not.

Until you get to the top you’ll know if it was worth it. Until you live it you’ll know if it was actually love, or if you wasted your time. She didn’t have any more time to waste. She knew he probably…

But what if he had feelings for Cherry? What if he was dating her cousin? And that’s why he couldn’t stay. Or… Her thoughts were trying to make sense. Maybe they were gripping to something they could’ve had.

“Well, why don’t you?” She asked him.

“What?”

“Why don’t you kiss me?”

Because the rain was no coincidence. And he didn’t say anything, and he didn’t laugh. She kissed him.

She finally kissed him under the rain. Under the stupid cold rain, that was usually scarce. And it was bitter, but calm, contrasting warm lips to the cold rain that was streaming down their cheekbones. He was a song, a movie, a book. The story y/n wanted to keep forever, because she was an idiot.

He still owned every single thought she could ever have. The kiss wasn’t deep and dramatic, not movie scene like, not like y/n had probably imagined it. It was sweet, tender, and she didn’t let him pull away. If anyone saw them, they’d probably think they looked pathetic. Only one kiss and she was fooled again. Why did love have to be so cruel? Why did it have to hurt?

But it didn’t, not at that moment. Small kisses, both of them reading their very next movement. She’d forgotten how it felt, those butterflies each time he ever was around. So very esplendid.

You’d think she wouldn’t feel that way, how many times had they not kissed before. Yet it felt like a new one. But she felt lonely, each time her lips touched his. Not because he made her feel lonely, but because she hadn’t really truly realized how much she had missed his touch. She was helpless. Because suddenly she realized all the tears that she hadn’t wept had been dying to come out. How restless she had been, and terrified that she would never ever kiss him again. And she knew she was angry. Tired of being in the dark. Always waiting for him. Because her whole life had changed completely in just a few months, of course she’d missed him. Because the days with him, although they were counted they’d been so bright. And the sun had barely come out when they were apart.

And she knew that if he stayed she’d regret it, but if he didn’t, she’d be torn apart. She needed him that night to fall in love once again, all over. She didn’t care.

She missed him too much to care about anything. But he wanted to leave, he didn’t want to stay, and maybe that’s why she didn’t stop kissing him. She really needed him.

And he finally pulled away to catch his breath. She didn’t say anything, she only made her way to the apartment, leaving it to him. To stay or not to stay.

He did follow after her, but he didn’t walk in.

Why was this so... complicated?

Because if he stayed, it’d be hard. And if he didn’t, they would lose it all. She only watched him, he was debating it. Probably with that same thought in his head. Because she knew it, they were broken. Different reasons this time, maybe Tom hadn’t completely healed from the heartbreak… Or maybe he had pretended to move on. Or… She didn’t know where he was standing. What the hell was going through his mind?

“Fuck it,” he decalred walking in, draggin her close to him and kissing her again. This time the kiss was even deeper, now he was the one in control of it, one hand on the back of her neck and the other one on her waist. Her arms quickly wrapped around his neck and pushed the door close.

It was a bad idea.

But, honestly, when had they ever made any right decision when it came to each other?

She pushed him against the door, her hands skimming down his chest. She needed him that night, she knew that. In any way, possible. Not in the sense that she needed pleasure, or to run out of breath, but she needed to feel once again his skin against hers, with that feeling of never wanting to let go off his lips, needing to prove to herself that Tom still loved her. No one would ever make her feel the way he made her feel.

Though she knew she’d fall apart the moment she realized her mistake, but she pushed away that thought. Her hand went through his slightly wet hair, as he slightly moaned against her lips. His hands were around her waist trying to pull her even closer to his body.

She didn’t know if she should continue, because she knew that there possibly were too many other options of what they could be doing that she wouldn’t regret. She knew that she wanted to make a scene about Cherry, about her, about Tim, or apologize for what she’d done. But then she knew that if she didn’t continue kissing him, she’d probably regret it more. She needed him that night, because she knew she’d end up in a dark place anyway, at least she could feel sparks that night.

Her hands found the hem of his shirt and quickly ripped it off, throwing it away, her lips trailed their way down his neck, leaving wet spots all over it. She could feel his chest going up and down, as she took his hands in hers and pushed them against the wall.

“Y/N,” he breathed in as he tried to move. Y/N knew he was way stronger than her, yet he was letting her take the lead. Though she was taking control, her movements were soft.

She stopped pushing him against the wall, and dragged him to the couch, pushing him down. He was slightly impressed at first but he pulled her down with him, as she sat on his lap, lips glued to his. His fingertips ran down her sides, and then up under her green dress, his cold fingers blissed through her skin . The curtains, though closed, still let the moonlight peak in through the dark apartment.

She pulled away from his lips, opening her eyes to see him. He looked right into her , her cheeks flushed, as she leaned to rest her forehead against his, her chest was shrinking. Y/N knew she wsa being pathetic, idiotic, and probably even neurotic, but she couldn’t help the smile that formed in her face as his lips tried to reach out for hers again. She closed her eyes again as she peppered his face with soft small kisses, feeling like an actual dream, not the nightmare they probably were going through.

He sucked gently right under her chin, as y/n closed her eyes with pleasure, “Tom,” was the only word she wanted to say.

His name over, and over circling in her mind. She shifted and then pushed him to gently lay him down, he brushed his knuckles against her jawline before skimming his own lips through the same path.

“Y/N,” he whispered against her ear as if he couldn’t quite believe it himself, sending vibrations through her whole body. His hands gripping her thighs and going up her ass, as he tried to push her to him. She caged his hips in between her knees, before he sat back up to pull her down to him. Her lips found his collarbone, as she sucked on lightly and her hands traced down his chest down to his abs, thumbs rubbing circles.

His hands under her dress fiddled with her underwear and then caressed her legs, slowly and gently, as it built their way up to her core, she only fanned her breath against his neck. He only toyed with the hem of her silky panties.

Instead, he pulled his hands back and looked for the zipper in her dress.

Her own hands were toying with the muscles connecting his stomach with his legs. It travelled far enough to finally unbutton him, he helped her to strip himself down.

“I think this isn’t fair, I’m almost naked,” he commented before y/n shut him up with a kiss. But his hands kept working on her zipper and he finally slid it down.

“It’s completely fair,” she whispered.

Y/N chuckled as she finally took off her own dress.

He smirked “I thought we were going to hold hands,” he sassed before pressing firm kisses against the newly exposed skin, from both her breasts up to her neck.

Her hips bucked against his body, slowly, feeling his hard length growing against her throbbing core as his fingers were struggling in the back to unbuckle her bra. She drifted her hands once again against his chest before landing her lips back on his neck, placing firm kisses against it. She could smell the faint scent of his cologne, her very favorite one. He whimpered, making y/n feel the vibrations, his hands traveling down her back.

“This really isn’t holding hands,” he pointed out again.

She pulled away and took both his hands, intertwining their fingers and she pushed him against the backrest. He smirked as he only lifted his head to meet her lips, molded into one, as if every time they kissed they turned into two halves longing for the very next one.

“Y/N,” he said in between kisses.

“Tom,” she answered. As his lips traveled down to the middle of her breasts, he stopped holding her hands as he once again tried to get the bra off.

Before he could unhook it, he pulled away. “Wait,”he said.

There it was, y/n thought, he’s gonna be reasonable.

“I—don’t have a condom,” he admitted, a statement which somehow calmed y/n, knowing perfectly that around the time they dated, he’d always have condoms in his wallet.

She didn’t, either. She knew Emma probably had, though, since Emma had slipped one into her purse the night with Tim. One, that of course, she’d used.

We don’t want another pregnancy scare,” Tom joked.

“We—?” She chuckled. “You didn’t have it.”

“I certainly did,” Tom frowned. “When I opened that box, and it was there—I thought—“

“Oh, right, I—“she laughed nervously. “I gave it to you.”

He gulped. “Yeah, you gave me everything.”

They stayed quiet, for a bit. His hands on her waist, her fingers running through his hair. .

“Emma probably has some—“she said. “But—“

He took a deep breath. “Oh—then?” He coughed with a grin. “Why don’t you go and—?”

She didn’t move initially, she only gazed upon his lips and then back to his eyes, he kissed her before she finally walked away. But then she walked into Emma’s room.

‘If you ever decide to finally have one random hookup I’ll put them here.’ The words echoed through her mind as she opened the small box on top of her nightstand. She saw the flowers that Harry had given her. Y/N felt wrong and she wasn’t sure why.

She opened the small box anyway, now the excitement gone, completely.

Y/n fidgeted with the condom and then just watched

He sighed. Both of them knew the fire was probably put out, now.

She took a deep breath as she sat on the other side of the couch. He cleared his throat.

They weren’t ready. Because it hurt too much, and though her body probably desired him now, her heart had decided to finally get back into its senses, and it was aching. Now the only thoughts circling her mind was that he’d touched her differently, he had barely wanted to. He had been slow, and not like they were before, always too desperate to touch each other. He hadn’t smiled as they had pulled away from the first kiss like he usually did, and he hadn’t tried to kiss his way down to her stomach.

He hadn’t… he hadn’t.

Or had he? And was it all in her mind? Her fear that instead of her name he’d end up saying Cherry’s.

He didn’t say anything, he rubbed his face.

She only reached for her dress and lazily covered herself with it, not bothering to put it on, before walking away to her room.

He picked up his clothes and quickly followed after her. “I’m—I’m sorry,” he said, staying in the doorway.

She blinked as she had put on her dress back on, not wanting to turn around and see him. “What for?”

He sighed heavily. “I—I don’t know.”

She wanted to ask about Cherry.

She didn’t, though.

“We’re not ready.” That’s what she went with as she sat on her bed.

He gulped as he walked a step into her room. “Yeah.”

Her heart was killing her. “I—I’m… I never got to say how sorry I was,” she started. “I never wanted to hurt you,” she said.

Tom gulped, watching her.

“I can’t believe I—I hurt you that much and I can’t even think how I managed to make you believe that you were anything but the love of my life,” the words had come out so simply.

Tom stayed in the doorway, fidgeting with his shirt. She finally looked at him. He was nervous, she could tell. Or not nervous, but that unnamed horrible feeling when you feel anxious that you won’t be able to forgive. That’s the feeling he was showing.

“I—I’m sorry I wrote it,” she continued, her voice cracked. Why did it hurt so much to say it if she actually wanted to say it? “But if it changes anything, it was never a hoax,” she confessed. “I guess it was an excuse to me, to let myself feel something for you. And I—should’ve said something sooner or… I was just so afraid of losing you, and I ended up losing you anyway. I walked in with the idea that you’d hurt me first that I built up so many weapons and—We shouldn’t have. It was not war, we were in love, no one—Love is not war, but love isn’t supposed to hurt and yet…” she gulped. “I don’t know if we can get out of this one.”

He sat beside her. “History says we can,” he observed.

“History also tends to repeat itself,” she pointed out.

He nodded. “Yeah, if you don’t know it.”

“I’m sorry,” she pleaded again. “I really—never got to say it,” she continued. “I’m—“

“And I’m sorry, too,” he echoed, before placing a kiss on her temple.

She scoffed. “We’re a mess.”

He pressed his lips against her cheek, and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, she leaned against him.

“How have you really been?” He asked.

She shrugged. “It was weird, at first. I’ve been missing everyone,” she admitted. “I missed Harry and Sam, James,” she nodded. “I’ve been missing you like hell which I couldn’t really explain.”

“Why?”

“We were used to being apart,” she pointed out. “I never really cared before if you went places, and if you did I would be angry, and now… I searched for your face in every corner, in every person.”

He smiled slightly. “I… tried to find you, too. I missed you too fucking much.”

Y/N didn’t really want to think more of that thought, but of course she knew he’d searched for her. She was upset again, yet that didn’t impede her lips from finding their way back to his neck, sloppy kissing against his exposed hot skin. He shivered, as he pulled her back to him.

Just like they were continuing what they’d left before. He laid down pulling her with him, his hands trailing up her legs as she continued to suck gently on his neck, kissing down his chest now.

“Fuck, y/n,” he muttered as he felt her lips kissing down his abdomen. His chest rising up, his hand was so close to her heat but he snapped it away, to grip her legs and turn them around, him on top of her now as she wrapped her legs around his hips. He kissed her as he tried to push his own body against her. Tongue slipping into her throat as her hands found his hair.

She rocked herself against him, as he groaned against her lips.

But she pulled away again. “No, wait, Tom,” she stopped him. “No, no… We can’t do this,” she stopped him.

“Fuck y/n, you can’t leave me like this,” he complained, burying his face on her neck, y/n wasn’t sure if she felt small pecks on it.

She bit her lip. “If we do this, it’ll be our doom.”

“I.. Fuck I know, but you can’t kiss me like that and then--” He couldn’t even finish. He was turning red and flustered as he tried to hide his hard-on with y/n’s pillow just as he sat up.

“I’m sorry,” she apologized, as she reached for his hand.

He chuckled, “No, no, I get it,” he was embarrassed as he flicked her hand away. “I-” he cleared his throat. “I need to cool down.”

She blushed. “Yeah, me too.”

He covered his face. “This is really embarrassing.”

She gulped. “Do you…” She couldn’t even say it. “Do you want to take a shower?”

He laughed nervously. “What?”

“I don’t know,” she grinned. “Take a cold shower, maybe?”

“Are you serious?” His face couldn’t even possibly get redder, yet he was there. He picked up another pillow and covered his face.

“I… thought that helped,” she giggled.

“Are you fucking serious?”

“Yes, I’m serious,” she snickered.

“I-- yeah,” His voice was muffled under the pillow. “I might take your offer.”

She hated herself because she really had wanted to continue it, and this was the second time. But it was like both of them knew that this mess would be even more of a mess if they went through with it. So they had to keep separate ways, hot and bothered. She knew it, she really wanted to go through with it, but she had to stop herself.

But she handed him a towel and showed him the way. He was still flushed, and they both avoided their glance when she walked out.

Y/N was trying to find a way to cool herself down, too. But her skin was still burning, trying to find its way back to him.

The bathroom was the door in front of her room, she had always hated that, but today she didn’t. She heard the water streaming down. Her chest was still going up and down as she stared at the wooden door, at her pillow, at his shirt on the floor.

Her mind was replaying the way he had said her name, over and over again. She wanted to hear him all night. If he said her name like that again she knew she’d give everything he asked for.

He hadn’t closed the door, not correctly, at least, a door that barely ever locked, it had its way, and so the door cracked open revealing him, under the steam and hot water. Not cold as she had aviced him, too. She was nervous, never done something like that before, she felt weird peaking in, but her titled head had tried to get a sneak. It was past midnight now, probably, and she didn’t want to waste any more time, and she knew she was risking being rejected, again, but a thought came to her head. The light from her bathroom barely showed anything, a fact that she’d always hated. The flickering lightbulb was never good enough for her to get ready in the morning, and that small stupid mirror, she hated it, now tarnished from the hot water. But the flickering light bulb that brightened Tom’s shadow, as the water was falling down seemed to add the perfect touch of sensuality she’d looked up for the whole night.

She thought she was a fool, and that it probably was incorrect.And it really was to be peaking,, then she heard him:

“Y/N,” he had moaned her name after two exhales.

She furrowed her eyebrows, not sure if she’d heard what she’d heard. Was he calling her? She gulped the thought, trying to ignore it. But she could hear her name again.

“Fuck, y/n,” he groaned. The way her name slipped from his mouth made y/n swoon.

Now she was sure she’d heard her name, and if her mind was not betraying her she knew exactly what the hell was going on. She knew it, the heavy breaths disclosed him.

His head thrown back with pleasure.

Y/N blushed as she cleared her throat. But he moaned slightly louder, making her stomach jolt. He whispered her name and her name only, over and over.

And that gave y/n a slight feeling of power. That probably was the last string hitting, and so, decisively, she walked into the bathroom, too. Now, making sure it was locked. Tom didn’t hear her, but she saw the shadow of his arm moving.

She took a deep breath to get more confidence before finally stripping down all of her clothes. Tom was too busy to notice as she stepped into the steamy shower, her toes burning with the water as she stepped right behind him.

She was nervous but that didn’t stop her. She slowly wrapped her arounds behind him, feeling the well defined muscles on his abdomen, he froze and shrivelled at her slight touch.

“Fuck--” He cursed. “Y/N, I’m sorry. You weren’t—“

“Sh,” she kissed his back. “Thought you could use some help.”

Her hands firmly pressed their way down, the hot water in her skin only turning her on even more. He was shaking.

He was breathing even more heavily than before. “Fuck, y/n.”

It was her name, not anyone else’s, it was her name. He threw his head back as she continued kissing his back. Hands traveling up and down, teasing him as she pressed her whole body against him.

“I thought—“he couldn’t even make out his thought.

“I changed my mind,” she whispered, her hand now traveling down his length, the other digging her nails into his chest.

He panted heavy breathes.

“I haven’t even touched you, darling,” she teased.

He whimpered, his legs kept shaking as her delicate fingers wrapped around his cock.

“Y/N—“he moaned brokenly, as his hands tried to reach behind him to touch her.

She was breathing against his back, as she let his length go.

“Fuck it y/n,” he was exasperated.

She chuckled, and then finally wrapped her hand around his shaft, beginning to pump him up and down.

“Fuck,” was all he could say.

“Say my name,” she ordered.

“Y/N,” he complied, as she kept pumping him.

His own hands tried to reach out to her but his hands found his own hair instead, his knuckles getting white from the pleasure, as he said her name over and over.

She gained confidence and quickened her pace, stroking him flawlessly as his groans became louder. He growled.

“Fuck, no, Y/N, I’m close—Stop“he said, and stopped her hand, she slowly withdrew it. “I need to be in you, fuck this,” he barked before turning around and smashing his lips against hers and pushing her against the wall. He quickly grabbed her leg and pulled it up, as he kissed his way down the valley of her breasts, his hands were dying to touch her as they explored every spot that he could reach, kissing her fervently.

The water was still running down both their skin now mixed with sweat, as his slick fingers travelled down to her core, as if to return the favor, y/n had to bite her lip as a wave of arousal hit her. His thumb pressing hard against her clit as he slid one finger in, making her whimper and moan his name out loud.

“Tom,” she breathed out, as his thumb rubbed circles sending a heat of pleasure, her fingers digging down to his back, crescent moons forming in his skin.

“Fuck, get inside me, Tom.”

He didn’t, he only brushed his length against her pulsing core.

“Hold my hands,” he ordered as he ripped her hands from his back and pushed them both against the wall, she locked her fingers with his, as she stared right into her eyes.

He finally pushed right into her, getting a coarse and raspy moan from her. He adjusted himself as she clenched against him. She pressed against his hips, he bit her bottom lip before pushing himself against her, roughly, the water letting him slide just smoothly.

But then he quickened to move with such speed that y/n thought she was losing her sight, clapping noises as he pulled in and out. She rolled her eyes and let out a soft moan with ecstasy. Both of them overwhelmed, as they keep crashing against each other. Y/N rocking her hips as she could while Tom thrusted into her, harder and deeper each time.

He kept moaning her name in between short breaths, and their hands kept held. Her legs were quivering but she managed to kept her other leg wrapped around his back, each and every movement getting sloppier as he thrusted into her.

The water was still burning against their skin, but it was getting colder, they didn’t notice since their skin was now covered with sweat that only helped you both move more.

He stopped moving, staying inside of her, deeply inside as he pushed his head back with pleasure. “Fuck, y/n, you’re so tight,” he said, as he was catching his breath, but then he continued to ram into her. Over and over, his movements brushing against her clit, already aroused as she was sure she was seeing stars.

He continued, as she was squeezing his hands so tight. Her back sliding up and down to the wall. His lips found trying to find her breasts, and her neck and collarbones, sucking and biting and licking. He managed to kiss some spots every now and then in between whimpers and short breaths, and slow whispers of her name.

“Tommy,” she whimpered, as she felt her orgasm beginning to wash her up. Ecstasy and pleasure filling her arousal, as the friction from each and every momevent rubbed against her pulsing core. Tom groaned when he heard her scream his name, his own movements were getting sloppier, he groaned as he reached his own climax, he tried to pull out but she didn’t let him. She growled as her knuckles were turning white from holding his hands as he filled her up. Trying to get some composure as he breathed against her, resting his forehead against her, both of them panting trying to catch their breath.

“You cooled down now?” She asked between respires.

He chuckled as he let her hands go to lift her chin so he could kiss her, sweetly this time.

They were laying down on y/n’s bed, drops still falling down their bodies, y/n laying down on top of him. Her head under his neck as his finger traced down her exposed spine. Her own fingers walking up his chest.

“So that was a new way of holding hands,” he pointed out, she chuckled against his neck before pecking it.

She reached out for his hand again, as she played with his fingers.

“Do you think we fucked up?” Y/N asked

“No,” he answered as he pulled her closer, placing a kiss on top of her head.

“Emma‘s gonna kill me,” she said.

“Harry, Sam, Haz and Tuwaine will kill me,” he laughed. “But I won’t tell them.”

She gulped. “We’re keeping it a secret again?”

He cleared his throat and licked his lips. “No—no, no, we are not making the same mistakes—But,” he cleared his throat. “I’m not one to kiss and tell, you know?”

“Yeah, yeah, right—plus, this doesn’t have to mean anything,” she said.

He frowned. “Uh—“

“No, wait not—“she coughed. “Not what I meant—I—meant that we don’t have to—rush anything.”

He gulped, “it’s complicated.”

“But it would’ve been, anyway,” she commented.

He nodded. “See? That’s why I suggested going over the timeline.”

Y/N smiled. “So we don’t go over the same mistakes?”

“Yeah,” he grinned. “So I don’t end up breaking your heart again for what, the hundredth time?”

“Try thousandth,” she joked. But she wasn’t really joking, she only thought about the last time, just a few moments before.

He gulped, hands still fidgeting. “You actually—you broke my heart several times too,” he whispered.

“Really?” She looked up to him.

“Yes,”he chuckled. “Like that time you said I was the ugliest guy at school.”

She sat up just slightly just to shift to rest her chin on his chest so they’d be facing each other. “When did I say that?”

“With your friends, with Fabiola,” he said, pushing her head back from her face. “you were playing snog marry kill and you said you’d kill me because I was the ugliest guy at school.”

She snickered. “I had to keep our enemies reputation.”

“And I wasn’t even an option,” he added.

She laughed, embarrassed. “I’m sorry! I don’t remember saying that but you know I didn’t mean it,” she explained. “I had a crush on you,” she said before kissing him.

The lights were dimmed, the sheets covering them both. Though y/n was still trying to figure out her thoughts. Was she angry now?

She couldn’t be, not after their shower. Maybe she was just blinded, but that’s the thing about a love affair with the love of your life, you can’t help it. He took her breath away in every possible way. She’d forgotten about many things. Not all of them, and of course they still had too many things to talk about, and they probably couldn’t wait. But there were no poisonous thoughts in her mind. Yes, it still hurt and she was angry but her heart loved him too much to care… at least for now. Besides, she didn’t know if they were actually going anywhere with this.

Honestly, she probably wasn’t even thinking with her heart or mind at that moment. His touch had blinded her, feeling brand new, each time he brushed his fingers against her, she felt a bristled spark forming up.

“It hurt my feelings I didn’t know,” he grinned.

“I’m sorry,” she ran a hand through his hair. “I actually thought you were the cutest one…”

He grinned. “really?”

“Well second cutest one, Nicholas Johnson might have been the cutest one,” she teased.

He rolled his eyes and faked a laugh. “I knew you had a crush on him.”

“I did,” she admitted.

“Which brings me to another heartbreak,” he commented.

She frowned. “What?”

“When you kissed him,” he pointed out.

“Which time?”

He frowned. “Wait, there was more than one?” He faked to be hurt, she laughed.

“Yes,” she scoffed. “And please, I had to see each and every one of your girlfriends, and you barely saw mine.”

He gulped. “Yeah, okay but, I mean… The first time, yes I remember it was at some random tween party we had, in the treehouse… we were playing spin the bottle,” he recalled.

“Oh, I remember that,” she nodded.

“And you were dared to kiss your crush,” He commented. “And from what I had gathered before I thought I was your crush.”

“Wait I remember that!” She said.

“You do?”

“Yes I got angry! Because—wait!” She giggled. “You thought I would’ve kissed you when like two questions before that you said that I was the ugliest in the room.”

“It was payback,” he said.

“No it wasn’t, how would it be payback if I hadn’t even kissed Nick,” she pointed out.

“I… I was trying to...Don’t change the subject, you kissed Nick and I was so angry,” he cleared his throat.

She sat up, laughing, covering herself with her sheets. Tom chuckled to himself, amused by the fact she was covering just right after they had recklessly fucked in the shower.

“What the hell were you thinking?” She shook her head amused. “That I would run to you and kiss you after you called me ugly?”

“I was flirting with you y/n,” He smirked.

She rolled her eyes. “You were—”

He pulled her right back to him, missing her touch already. “Look I was dumb but then when they asked if you’d ever been kissed before that you said no!” He called her out. “And as long as I’m concerned you had kissed someone.”

“We had agreed on not telling anyone,” she claimed.

He shrugged. “Yes, but you hurt my pride.”

She nudged him playfully, tired of him. “You’re an idiot.”

He was going to say something, but he cupped her face to bring her down to kiss her again, his hands travelled down her back again.

“Tom!” She chirped as he turned her around.

“And then when you started dating Louis god, I hated him so much,” he rolled his eyes.

“But you hate every guy I dated,” she pointed out.

He laughed. “Only because you chose horrible people.”

She snickered. “Hm.”

“I hate Tim the most though,” he pointed out.

Her stomach jolted and she avoided his glance. Tim. Fuck, Tim. Just a few days before she had been in between those very same sheets with him. So different from what had gone around this time.

“You hated me the most,” she said. “And how did that turn out?”

“Huh?”

“I was your biggest enemy, now Tim’s your biggest enemy, why don’t you try it out with him? Maybe you guys end up being the perfect couple,” she sassed with a smirk.

He scowled, getting off of her, turning around avoiding to face her. “No.”

“Just saying,” she laughed, as she wrapped her arm around him, kissing his shoulder.

“Idiot,” he rolled his eyes.

He coughed. “Anyway, Louis.”

“He was an idiot,” y/n agreed.

“Yes, what’s up with you dating idiots?” He turned back to face her.

“Dunno, really loved the last one though,” she smiled before leaning over to kiss him.

He hummed against her lips but then pulled away. “But no, look, I hate Tim but the worst guy you ever dated was Louis.”

“He was not that—bad at the beginning,” she chuckled. “He was in a band and he was hot.”

“I hated him.”

She shrugged. “I actually started dating him to make you jealous because that’s when Sandra appeared.”

He thought about it. “And you told Sandra I used snail slime to comb my hair.”

She threw her head back laughing. “Yes I did.”

“Why?”

“To make you angry, we were sworn enemies back then remember?” She poked his chest.

“But Louis. Don’t change the subject.”

“What about him?”

“He was…” She thought about it. She’d never told anyone what had gone wrong with him. The real reason why they’d broken up and he had shown his true cards and how awful he was of a human being. “He was a bad guy and I was into that, plus I think he was somehow related to someone in the Harry Potter cast and that’s all I needed.”

“A bad guy,” he frowned.

“Yes, a bad guy,” she bit her lip. “I was into that,” she coughed. “I mean he basically dressed as John Bender from the Breakfast Club and-”

“Of fucking course,” Tom laughed. “Of course, now it all makes sense.”

“He was actually the one to introduce me to that world,” she laughed. “Okay, he was hot and I liked the way he dressed and he was manly.”

Tom scrunched his nose.

“And it made you jealous so my plan worked,” she pointed up.

“You never told me why you broke up,” he said. “I mean, I’m glad he did because I could take you to prom but why--”

She gulped. “He was an idiot.”

She tried to change the subject, and they went through different aspects of their relationship. Always the same damn story, Tom hurting y/n, Y/N hurting Tom. Both of them being idiots, very big idiots.

People come into our lives to teach us something, yet they didn’t quite know what they were supposed to learn from each other. Maybe there wasn’t much of a lesson to be learned, but they both knew that somehow it led them both there. It had to, otherwise why else would they be under the sheets as the moon sneaked into her room, with dried flowers hanging in her wall. Why else would they be tangled up with each other if they weren’t meant to be?

Y/N, no matter how angry she was, knew she had the deepest connection with him. No matter how stupid, she knew it. And though she knew they’d end up tearing each other apart one of those days because y/n wouldn’t resist calling him out for Cherry, that night she didn’t want to go through another fight. Not that night.

“You didn’t go to the Spiderman premier,” Tom said.

She bit her lip, avoiding his glance. She’d never told him why.

“I know I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“That broke my heart so much,” he gulped.

“But you were dating—”

“Yes, but it still meant so much to me you know?” He sighed. “And though I hated you or pretended to I wanted to share it with you-”

“You don’t know how much I regretted not going,” she admitted.

Tom brushed her hair with his fingers. “Why didn’t you—?”

“Because I thought that if before I didn’t have any chance with you, I’d have less of a chance then, and because I... I don’t know.”

“What?”

“It was weird, it was around a time when I still couldn’t get over that kiss after prom, I was thinking about it, day and night and then you started dating her and—I just..”

He stayed quiet.

“Dunno, I knew the whole world would finally see you and I… don’t know, I was planning to let you go and I was angry and I just couldn’t see you, and I just thought I would drag the happiness away from you? In a way,” she confessed. “Because I had been too blinded, I knew I was in love with you again, and I knew that I would… I would simply ruin the magic for you, and I was confused and I saw you and you were happy and I thought I’d end up ruining it for you, because I knew that we’d never be happy, not when we were around each other, and I had accepted it back then, for the first time, that I wouldn’t...be with you. I had accepted that it was a fantasy, and that we wouldn’t-” She coughed. “And I remember,” she chuckled dryly. “You know me, I was dramatic and I’d go out for long walks, staring into the rain, and… I was getting over you,” she nodded. “Or I thought I had gotten over you,” she sighed. “Because then…”

“Rome,” he let out a long sigh.

“Yeah.”

“We’ve never really talked about this huh,” he bit his lip.

She shook her head. “No.”

“Not even when we were dating huh—” He was out of breath. “No, we were too busy making out, huh.”

She grinned sadly.. “That was on you.”

“I’m not saying it wasn’t and I was not complaining,” he smirked, caressing her cheek.

Y/N hated herself because she had no willpower when it came to him. If she’d told this to the y/n from a few hours before she would’ve probably killed y/n. Because god, she shouldn’t be there with him. Had she forgotten all her days mourning over him? Had she thrown them all away? She was an idiot.

There was that thought in her mind, it would’ve been better if they’d never ever tried anything together. No first kiss, no first dance, no first flowers. But then if they’d never ever tried anything, she wouldn’t have known that he was the missing part of her. And she knew that fear and hate were strong, so, so, so strong but her beating heart was stronger and louder.

“How have we been so stupid?” He asked.

“Hm?”

“Like no offence but we literally are the most stupid couple ever,” he stated.

She snickered. “We are.”

“Like how many times did we not try to screw each other’s life because we were in love?” He wondered.

“We were young and stupid,” she nodded.

“But listening to it, the same story, it’s the same thing, over and over, and over,” he shook his head. “I don’t want it to be the same ending.”

He kissed her, deeply. Threading his light touch around her body, taking it easy this time. Gentle touch, and now slowly, he took his time now to look at her, as if it was the first time he’d seen her. He leaned over and over again to kiss her, lips, heart, and soul. Maybe that’s why y/n was always drawn to him, because he knew how to touch her soul. Anybody could touch her body, but barely anyone knew how to touch her heart, and nobody knew how to touch her soul. So kindly, and softly. Shimmering eyes that made her whole body butterfly.

And all they wanted to ask each other that night was not to let each other down. Funny thing, neither of them had said what they felt, out of fear, or maybe confusion. But they both knew it, they both felt it.

They drifted off together, holding each other. Y/N slept for the first time in months, so calmly, listening to the soft heartbeat in her chest.

Y/N was the first one to wake in the morning after she had heard some noise, she placed a soft kiss on his shoulder before putting on some underwear and his t-shirt. She’d always liked wearing her clothes.

When she walked out, she saw Emma near the door.

“Emma!” She gulped. She’d completely forgotten she had a roommate, now y/n was slightly embarrassed, not knowing what her friend had been able to hear from the night before, knowing damn well she hadn’t been quiet.

“Shh,” she closed her eyes. “Shh--- shh, I have a terrible headache,” she said before leaving her purse on the couch.

That’s when y/n realized it. “Wait--Did you just arrive?”

“Yes,” Emma scrunched her face. “Shit,” she opened her eyes and glanced at y/n. “Oh god, what are you wearing?”

Y/N took a step back and cleared her throat. “I… uh.”

“Did you sleep with him?” Emma asked.

“Sorta,” she lied.

Emma brought her hands to her surprised face. “Oh my God.”

“But wait, where were you?” Y/N tried to change the subject.

“Is he still here?” Emma asked as she walked near y/n’s room to get a peak, and there she saw the man laying down on y/n’s room.

Y/N rushed to close the door. “I know, I know…” Y/N bit her lip. “But… But wait, where were you? Were you partying? Or--” Y/N took a second glance at Emma’s outfit and realized the jacket she was wearing was definitely not hers.

It was Emma’s turn to blush. “It’s… It’s a funny story.”

“Emma?” Y/N’s eyes couldn’t believe it.

“Look, we were both stupid last night, okay?” Emma walked away, making her way to her room.

“Is that--That’s not your jacket,” Y/N pointed out.

“I know, I slept with Josh,” Emma admitted.

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