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blackcatclawsout · 4 years ago

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Majima x Reader- Bento Box

I also post to AO3 under the same username!

Morning was always her favourite time of the day. Y/N stirred in her shared bed, nestling into the arms that were already wrapped around her. Majima seemed to already be awake; his grip tightened and drew her closer. He peppered her cheeks and forehead in light kisses, giggling at her sleepy groaning. She swatted away his face, chuckling softly.

"No, I have morning breath," she whined, smirking as he drew her near.

They laid in bed motionless, letting dawn's light hit their blanketed bodies. Everything was soft and warm, as the rising sun began to wake greater Tokyo. Y/N could stay like this forever, pressed against his chest, breathing in Majima. He rarely took showers at night, so she always caught a bit of his cologne in their morning cuddles. Stealing glances at her beau, she saw his face, softened as he breathed softly. She admired his thin face and his high cheekbones. Y/N gently reached up, rubbing the backs of her fingers across his motionless face. She cupped his cheek. Majima's eye opened, locking with her. His grey eye was softened in moments like these, pupil lazily dilating as he stared back at her. Catlike blinks between the two of them communicated their mutual appreciation for the silent moment they were currently sharing. Y/N's eyes darted towards his thin-lipped mouth. The hand she rested on his lean chest felt his heart speed up. The anxious pattering edged her to lean in closer. A giddy feeling rose from her stomach, compelling her to shut her eyes in excitement. The harsh melody of the phone cut through their synchronized breathing.

"Son of a..." Majima muttered, immediately turning to his bedside stand. Y/N sat up, calming her still fast-beating heart. "Nishida, d'ya even know what time- No, I haven't since... Fuck. I'll be there in a sec." He sighed, hanging up. Majima sat on the edge of the bed, fingers massaging his temple. His lover crawled to him slowly, resting a hand on his shoulder. Before she could ask, he stood up, turning around to face her.

"Shit's hit the fan, I gotta go." His hand extended, resting on top of her head. Fingers wandered absent-mindedly through her locks as his eyes flickered over her partly covered figure. His brows were once again furrowed.

"I understand. You better get going." She nodded, smiling up at the older man. His lips parted slightly, almost to say something, but pressed together again. He sauntered to the washroom, closing the door behind him. Y/N glanced at the clock on Majima's side table.

5:56... yikes. No wonder Goro was pissed off. He doesn't usually get up for another half hour.

She stretched as she got up, wrapping a robe around herself as she left the bedroom. Something Y/N had slowly grown accustomed to in her partnership to Majima was bento boxes. The idea of making someone a packed lunch seemed… childish to her; at least it did at first. She vaguely remembered her mother making her lunch when she was a child, probably because she couldn't be trusted to pack her own. She had learned quickly to become independent, fiercely so, and the thought of relying on someone else to make her lunch seemed strange to her. It wasn't until Goro explained that she caught the appeal.

"When you're a kid, your mom made one of them for you and your dad. It always had great shit in there- homemade and sometimes with cute decorations. Now, she only did this for you an' your ol' man, the two people she shoulda loved most. So when ya girl makes it, it means she loves ya!" He flashed a cheeky grin as he explained. Y/N just cocked her head.

"You... don't think of your mom when you eat it?" She asked warily, causing him to burst with laughter.

"Hell no, I don't! I just think of my girl, and how lucky I am to have her." he leaned forward, pecking her cheek as he finished.

Y/N washed the rice absent-mindedly as she thought back to then. A smile graced her lips as she turned the machine on to hum, beginning to make other parts of his lunch. There was a big learning curve at first; the rice balls would always fall apart, or she’d mess up some recipe. Far too often she had left out an element from the lunch box, only to find it waiting on the counter. Despite it all, Majima took a bento each day, calling after he finished to compliment her work. His praise motivated her, even driving her to go to a local bookstore, looking for any sort of help. Slowly, her skills improved. Her routine became more integrated and quicker with each passing day.

After a short while, she looked at her handy work. The layer bento was stuffed full of edamame, onigiri with fish, steamed vegetables, and leftover meat from their dinner before. She felt proud of her handiwork, even if it wasn’t perfect. Y/N glanced at the kitchen clock on the wall.

It’s been almost 20 minutes... He should be ready soon.

She packed the food up, tucking his chopstick into the small plastic container. After ensuring everything was ready to go, she padded back to the bedroom, looking around for her lover. Muttering leaked out of their washroom, prompting her to follow the growling.

“Hey, Goro-chan… You’ll need to be heading out soon,” She popped her head into the doorway, smiling as she saw him already finished. He turned to face her, an exasperated look already carved into his face.

“Those assholes…” He sighed as he walked towards her, He was dressed in his usual suit jacket and black leather pants. She could still smell the dampness in his hair and his body wash- one of her favourite smells. Y/N gave a soft smile to him.

They didn’t often talk about his work, they met in spite of it, and he seemed to prefer to keep it that way. When they first met, he was insistent that he was a businessman- he looked the part then too. At the time, his hair was long and neat, his suit always pressed and clean; he had kept himself well-groomed with a clean shaved face, so it wasn’t much of a stretch then. Of course, life got in the way and they fell apart, only connecting years later by chance. The drastic change in his appearance tipped her off that he was into… different work by now. But she respected his privacy. She wasn’t oblivious by any means; Y/N meticulously knew what he did and where he was most days. After a few months of being together, she began receiving text messages from Nishida, informing her on where his boss was, especially during late evenings. They chatted frequently, even going into topics not associated with work. He was her confidant and seemed to share the image of Majima that she had.

Goro finished with his hair and came to the doorway, kissing her cheek before heading out of the bathroom. He picked up a few things he left out on the bed before also leaving the bedroom. She tidied the washroom, bringing out the damp towel that smelled like him, and tiding the bedspread before also leaving.

“See ya! I’m off!” Majima called from the door.

“Call you later!” She echoed from the laundry room, “Have a good day!” She waited for the door to click shut before she continued with the laundry. Household chores weren’t her favourite, she didn’t enjoy doing laundry or cooking. But if it was left up to the two of them, both Majima and Y/N would starve and live the remainder of their days on earth as nudists. On her days off, she tried to get everything done quickly, leaving the remainder of the day to read or do whatever else she pleased. Y/N stretched as the washing machine began to purr lightly. She sighed as she looked around for something else to do.

Can’t seem to find anything else… Guess it’s time for breakfast.

Padding to the kitchen, she used the remainder of the food prepared from before to make herself food. She hummed happily as egg sizzled and soup came to a soft boil. The fragrant embrace of food brought her a joy that nothing else in the world could, and she almost hated to admit it. It was half-way through her rendition of some pop song from the radio that she noticed something in the corner of her eye, sitting on the countertop. Turning she noticed it was the bento box she made. Y/N held the container in her hands, turning it over lightly. She felt her brow furrow slightly, thinking of what to do. Should she bring it to him? Glancing at the clock she sighed,

It’s 7:00 am… If I get ready soon I can drop this off and pop around Kamurocho for a bit

It was 10:30-ish when she was dressed and ready to head out. Just because of the occasion, she decided to wear a knee-length black skirt and a simple creme blouse, pairing them with black penny loafers. She admired her reflection in the hallway mirror, her makeup light and perfect for a sunny afternoon out. Y/N made sure to gently tuck in the bento box to the fabric bag she had slung around her shoulder and headed out for the day.

Navigating the subways always seemed daunting during rush hour, so she grew thankful when she patted down the steps to find the underground mostly empty. It was a short walk through the underground mall to where she needed to go; the large hall filled with all ages shopping for what they needed. Sweet vendors sold their succulent items to the newly freed students, groups of teenage girls fawned over the newest character items displayed, some with their boyfriends. A light smile played over Y/N’s face as she too had been that way when she was younger. She understood the excitement contained within the first week off of school, how it drove young people to be out with their friends. As she left the mall area and came to her line, she noticed a pair of teens waiting. A boy and a girl stood side by side, rather stiffly. She eyed them, noticing the way they both twitched when talking to one another. How cute. She glanced down at her fabric bag.

I wonder what he was like when he was younger…

The train ride was about 20 minutes, dropping her off in the heart of Kamurocho. Despite the bright sun and lack of neon lights, people swarmed the warming streets, chatting and shopping to their heart’s content. The smell of grilled food, cigarettes, and sun-baked concrete filled her senses as Y/N darted through the crowd. Regardless of being the only foreigner for blocks, she was ignored completely by the other’s around her. It sometimes was the only redeeming quality of the busier areas. Endless roads seemed to carry on for miles, the farthest treks waving and fluttering in the edging midday heat. All of Kamurocho seemed to be gearing up for the impending festival season, which always impressed visitors from far and wide. Passing by, attendants called out in hopes of catching a customer, but their calls falling on deaf ears. The Millenium Tower loomed over the crowds in the bright sunlight, casting a sharp shadow; though it was a ways off, it still acted as a centre, or maybe more of a North star. She dawdled towards the quieter part of town where the Majima family office was located. She had vaguely remembered certain landmarks, like the worn down shrine that always seemingly had a fresh bowl of rice, or the old teahouse they had once stopped at. As she drew near the building, a tense feeling probed her stomach, though she had trouble understanding why. It was not like Goro was ever mean or told her not to come, yet she had the feeling like he had lived his life with her around his work, avoiding involving her in any regard.

Y/N bit her lip anxiously; She would be lying to say she had not considered heading back. Simply calling him to warn him that he might have to eat out for today, or feign ignorance over his forgetfulness this morning. Yet, the prospect of doing anything else plagued her mind with guilt. Glancing at her watch, she decided to head in, despite it being only 11:22, as she’d rather be giving him his lunch early than late. She cautiously walked into the building, immediately hit with a wall of air conditioning. She shivered in the artificial cool and looked about. The standard lobby was clean but dated and smelled of old carpet. Thinking back, Y/N had never gotten a good look at the inside, the most she saw was whatever she could see through the window the one time she saw Majima exit from here. The lobby only had a hallway attached, seemingly where the elevators and washroom would be. Gloomy plants sat destitute in the corner of the room. As she finished her look-over, her eyes settled on the high desk that rested on the left side of the room. Quietly, she approached.

The man sitting at the desk was middle aged and pudgy. His clothes and hair would have betrayed him for just another typical salary man and not someone who worked with the Yakuza. Several papers were strewn around him as he wrote on the one closest to him. As she stood waiting, she noticed the permanent fowl look on his face. It was decidedly funny when she realized it was the same face one makes at an offensive smell. Holding back a snicker, she spoke up.

“Um, excuse me…” her voice almost was a whisper. The man whipped his head up, visibly confused. His eyes quickly jumped about her figure as he rose from his seat.

“No english. Out.” He rattled quickly in english, stepping from behind the desk. In her initial shock, he nearly dragged her to the door before she retracted her hand.

“I’m here for-” She began.

“No english.” The man repeated once again, turning to face her.

“Is Majima Goro here?” She exclaimed loudly. The man froze where he stood, blinking owlishly at her. The air conditioning above them tousled both their hair, the moment silent, still and cold. He cleared his throat before straightening himself.

“Yes, I believe Majima-sama is in his office.” The man responded quietly, looking her over once more. Y/N sighed in relief, relaxing her own posture.

“Thank you. Can you take me to him?”

He shook his head softly, walking back to the desk, trailing her along dumbly. At first she thought he was refusing to help her anymore, but as he sat down, he reached for the desk’s phone and irritatedly called a short sequence. He muttered something under his breath before hanging up the phone and returning back to his papers. An awkward pause played as Y/N waited for any further instruction, standing dumbly in front of the pudgy man. Without warning, the elevator creaked opened, allowing two tall lean men to step out. She took that as her cue, and walked towards them.

Confusion seemed to be the theme of the Majima family office; Both men took a second to look her over before jumping back into action, patting her down rather roughly. While they avoided the obvious areas, they did seem to paw her skirt a little belligerently. She bit her lip to bite back a rude comment, deciding that it wasn’t worth pissing off men who killed people for a living. When one tried to take her bag, she yelped causing them to jump slightly. Her face was hot as she opened the canvas bag herself, showing them the contents After an additional minute of snooping, they led inside the elevator adjacent; The three of them stood compactly to one another. Y/N felt them shift their body weight. The small box had no air conditioning, quickly undoing the chill she felt moments ago. Her heart beat began to pick up again as they climbed slowly to the third floor, seconds stretching to minutes. When they arrived, she was hit once again with the cooled air.

The hallway was plain and for some reason nerve-wracking. The lack of scenery gave her less to take in as she tried to calm her beating heart. Checking and rechecking her bag, she made sure the food was in there. Her pulse was loud in her ears and her face felt hot. Why out of all the times she had given Majima a bento, this was the time when she was nervous about it? She thought back to their phone conversations after he had finished his lunch- Was he ever lying? What if he just threw it out at work and told her a pretty white lie? It was only an odd electricity in the room that made her tear her gaze from the bottom of the bag that she had been staring at.

Looking up, she found her gaze land on Goro Majima’s face, his brows furrowing as he looked over her.

“Y/N, are you alright?” His voice had an edge of concern as he stepped out a little from the doorway. She couldn’t help but find herself gawking- he felt too unreal to answer to. She had heard before that you often have trouble recognizing people when they are removed from the typical scenario you see them in; this seemed to be a prime example to her. Before she could answer, Majima led her into his office, draping his arm over her shoulder as he led her in. As she bustled in, he closed the door quickly behind them.

Her eyes wandered over his office- It was small and rather boring, only a small katana on the wall suggested that he would actually use this space. It was surprisingly clean, save for a large desk which was scattered in various papers. The filing cabinets and tables were covered in papers as well, though neatly stacked into piles. It never had occurred to her that he would have done any other work besides physical. Her thoughts were stopped as Goro came into her view. His grey eye was dark and his brow creased, which only made him look older. His gloved hands rested on her shoulders, his gaze even with hers.

“Are you alright, Y/N-chan?” His voice quivered slightly. Her face reddened in response, forcing her to break eye contact.

“Y-yeah, I’m fine..” she replied quietly.

A stale silence hung in the air before Majima straightened himself, hands dropping from her shoulders to hold her hands instead. He held her hands up, gently rubbing the backs of her knuckles.

“You’re not acting like yourself… What’s really happening?” His baritone voice was soft and pleading, making his concern more unbearable. The woman let out a shaky breath and urged herself to look at him. Her tongue felt swollen in her mouth and her throat seemed dryer than moments before.

“You left your lunch at home, but I… just feel silly.” She managed to mewl meekly. Her eyes stayed trained on him while he processed what she said. His face betrayed his confusion before he cocked his head.

“My… lunch?” He repeated. She sighed heavily.

“I came into the kitchen and it was still on the counter, and I didn’t want you to be hungry or to have to go out and stop what you were doing to go buy lunch-” She began only to be cut off by his howling laughter. He held his stomach and keeled over, gasping for air while he cackled brightly. Now she really felt embarrassed.

After giggling to himself for a while longer, he looked up at her, still doubled over and gasping, “You’re too cute.”

She fumbled with her bag, grabbing the bento and quickly shoving it to him. Even though her gaze was averted from him, she could still sense his smile as he gently took the container from her. He walked to his desk, plopping down in the plush leather chair, setting his feet up on the desk. Y/N drew near as he popped the lid open, surveying the contents.

“Okey-dokey, let’s see what we have... Karaage, edamame- always delicious… Ooh! Even salmon onigiri!” He loudly praised the humble contents of the bento, picking through the contents lightly. His lover settled on the edge of his desk, watching his reactions intently. He ate ravenously, akin to a rabid dog more than an actual person. She was the one to giggled this time, watching his face change with each side dish.

As he finished, Majima sighed loudly, sinking further into his chair.

“Delicious as always.”

Y/N cocked her head, “You think so?” He smirked, pulling her forward towards him.I know so.”

#majima goro #goro majima #majima x reader #yakuza #yakuza kiwami #ryu ga gotoku #rgg #i love domestic fluff

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wroteasongabouther · 4 years ago

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can’t stand to see you lonely: part 4

a/n: i seriously cannot thank you guys enough, and i apologies for taking a lot longer to post. but the love and kind words and support that you’ve given me has been just incredible and i could cry happy tears honestly. now, i hope u enjoy part 4 and all that it includes and pls remember to reblog and leave feedback if u did like it and share it with ur followers/friends ❤️ love u all!

and of course, as always, thank you to @arrogantstyles for beta reading 😘

word count: 16k

warnings: mentions of masturbation (right off the bat too ur welcome lol), cursing, consumption of alcohol (i swear they’re not drunks, just ‘tis the season ya know), and minor sexual content (!!!!!!finally!!!!!)

fic page // let’s chat // cstsyl playlist

Harry’s breathing is loud, echoing off the walls of his shower as he struggles to inhale and exhale slowly once more. He inhales deeply and lets his hand that was resting upon the wall in front of him drop back to his side. He huffs through his mouth, blowing away some drops of water that were dripping down his face, while the other hand releases the grasp he had on his cock. Harry didn’t intend to masturbate in the shower like some hormonal teenager; he didn’t plan to masturbate last night before he got under the covers, either. It’s all Y/N’s doing, he thinks, she was clouding his head more than usual. Harry couldn’t stop thinking about last night, the lingering stares, her small delicate hands lingering on his thigh or dancing over his rings.

“Jesus,” Harry’s voice is hoarse as he curses himself. He was this close to falling back into yet another spiral down the rabbit hole that was Y/N. Which would more than likely result in him playing with himself, again.

Bringing both his hands under the water, he gives them a quick rinse before turning to his shelf where his body wash is. He pumps a bit of the goat's milk and lavender infused soap into his hand and brings it to his chest, rubbing in circles till it begins to bubble on his skin. He works his way down to the mess between his thighs, gently cleaning himself up before rinsing off. Harry turns to face the wall again.Sighing, he cups his hands under the stream of warm water and splashes it onto the wall before he just brings his hand up to wipe away the remains of his little private solo session.

Once he’s all squeaky clean, Harry turns off the water and shakes his hair out a little before he’s opening the glass shower door and stepping out. He grabs his towel, drying himself off before wrapping it around his waist. A part of him will always want to grab a second towel to wrap up his hair, but it’s no longer the length that it’s needed. Sometimes he misses his long hair. Harry makes sure the fan is on before he leaves the bathroom and walks into his bedroom.

I wonder what Y/N is doing? He thinks as he reaches into his drawers for a pair of pants, some grey sweatpants, and then walks over to his closet to grab a dark blue crew neck jumper and a plain white shirt to wear underneath. Wonder what Y/N is wearing today, Harry daydreams as he lets his towel drop and steps into his pants, then into the sweatpants next. Suddenly Harry comes to realize what he’s doing, how utterly annoying he is by thinking about what Y/N is doing at any given moment. It’s something he’s caught himself doing before, actually. He inhales through his nose and shakes his head. Just relax, he thinks and then finishes getting dressed and pockets his cell phone that was sitting on his charger before he’s walking out to his living room.

As Harry’s preparing his coffee machine for his first cup of the day, his phone begins to vibrate. Fishing it out of his front pocket, he looks at the screen to see Mitch’s contact photo. Harry sets the baby blue mug he had grabbed into place for his coffee to brew and then swipes his finger across the screen to answer Mitch’s call.

“Hey,” Harry says, holding his phone between his ear and shoulder as he opens his bread box and grabs a loaf of twelve grain.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch asks. Harry’s eyebrows crease at his friend's absurd question.

“What?” Harry questions. His focus is on unraveling the bag his bread was in, grabbing two slices, before twisting it back up and sticking it into the bread box. He shuts the bread box and walks the few steps to his left to his toaster, plopping the bread slices into it and pushing down the buttons to get his breakfast toasting.

“Is she still in bed?” Mitch repeats himself, this time taking a brief pause after each word to really get his words across. Harry just rolls his eyes at Mitch and takes his phone back into his hand. He catches sight of the digital clock on his oven and his face twists up in confusion suddenly.

“Have you gone to sleep yet?” Harry asks, puzzled by how it’s just past nine in the morning and Mitch is somehow awake enough to call him.

“No, but that’s besides the point here, H,” Mitch says, breezes over the fact he’s an absolute lunatic for not going to sleep yet. “You’re dodging my question, so therefore I’m going to assume she’s still in bed,” he resorts. Harry can tell by the sass in his voice that he’s still buzzing from whatever amount of alcohol he had after him and Y/N left the bar last night. Harry watches his coffee drip into the mug slowly and furrows his brows once again at his friends words.

“Who’s still in bed?” Harry asks. Mitch lets out a deep breath and Harry just knows he’s rolling his eyes too.

“Who do you think I mean, Harry? The queen of England? No, I mean Y/N. Obviously,” he grumbles into the phone. Harry grabs the handle of his mug now full of coffee and rolls his eyes again.

“Y/N and I didn’t sleep together last night, sorry to disappoint,” he chirps back at Mitch.

“Bullshit, you two were basically eye fucking last night, the sexual tension was insane,” Mitch states. While Mitch is talking, Harry blows on his coffee before taking a small sip. The black coffee is still hot on his tongue, but doesn’t burn it thankfully. Suddenly his two slices of toast pop up, he sets down his mug and opens his fridge to find his small container of margarine. As he’s opening a drawer to find a butter knife, he lets out a tiny sigh.

“Like I said last night,” Harry pauses to make sure Mitch is listening, “I’m letting things settle down for her and see how it plays out,” Harry explains, resting his phone between his ear and shoulder again in order to take out the toast and spread butter on both slices.

“And what you’re saying is it didn’t play out with her ending up in your bed last night? I’m shocked, really,” Mitch says, his voice sounding genuinely surprised to hear that Harry’s night didn’t end how he imagined it would.

Honestly, Harry imagined it the same way at some points last night too. Thinking about how Y/N was a bit of a touchy drunk, therefore did that mean that she would be looking for her rebound hookup? Harry didn’t want to be that though. There was too much potential between them and this connection they’ve made so quickly, that he didn’t want to ruin it with some drunk hookup. But, yes, he imagined it, cause he’d be an idiot not to - a hot girl smiling all night at him, how she would jut out her chest just slightly cause he figured she loved how his eyes wandered over her body at times; so of course he thought of how their night could have ended differently together. Hell, he masturbated while thinking about it, twice within the past twelve hours to be exact.

Plus, their time last night was more than the sexual tension that may or may not have happened. Harry’s stomach is fluttering around just thinking about the gitty smiles and sweet words from Y/N, and how well she clicked with his best mates too. And truthfully, he was happy with how the night ended - with them in their own beds. Because their time would come eventually, Harry would let things play out however Y/N needed it to and he would wait for the right moment to swoop in and give her what he hoped was the best kiss of her life. Big dreams, Styles, he thinks to himself.

“She didn’t even think you liked her,” Harry tells Mitch, causing him to let out a snort.

“You know how I am,” he dismisses Harry's comment, “but I don’t know man, she’s good for you,” Mitch adds in a soft voice. His words make another storm of butterflies to erupt in Harry’s stomach as he smiles. “I didn’t not like her, I just sat back and let the two of you laugh all night and eye fuck each other on occasion too,” Mitch explains a little too casually. Harry shakes his head and takes a bit of his toast.

“Go to sleep, Mitch,” Harry says after he chews some of his toast.

“Good idea,” he yawns. “Talk soon,” he says.

“Bye,” Harry responds, taking his phone away from his ear and hanging up the call.

Harry grabs his plate with his half eaten toast in one hand and his coffee in the other, bringing it to his small dining table that sat against the far wall of his kitchen. Sipping his coffee now, it’s not too hot and he can actually enjoy it between bites of his toast. During him eating he finds his thoughts drifting to their typical place these days - Y/N.

Long story short, he found himself only liking her more than before after how things were between them last night. He can’t even imagine how far gone he’ll be for her if things actually went further than this blossoming friendship - with a dash of sexual tension - that they’ve established.

“This hangover is truly going to kill me,” Y/N groans out.

She’s finally standing on her two feet in the bathroom after having been sitting by the toilet for the past twenty minutes. Both her palms are face down on the counter, her arms straight as she leans forward slightly and lets her head hang heavy between her shoulders. Looking up at her reflection she sees just how dirty the tequila has done her by the bags under her eyes and the queasy feeling in her stomach as she just thinks about how much tequila she had last night.

“It’s karma for not sleeping with Harry,” Sammy taunts her, his voice coming through the speaker of her cell phone that rests on the counter beside her.

He called earlier while Y/N was still asleep, the first time in forever that she slept past ten in the morning. She had seen the call, but was too busy rushing to the bathroom to empty her stomach to return it. Then she showered away the gross hungover feeling, it only helped a little, before she got dressed into a pair of leggings and an old college hoodie and ended up in front of the toilet again as the tequila teased her making her think she was going to throw up but she didn’t - thankfully.

“I thought about it, Sammy, I swear,” she shares, letting out a sigh as she looks up at the ceiling and relaxes her body again - the threat of vomiting again seeming to fade away.

“So why didn’t you?” Sammy asks.

“Cause I just didn’t want it to be like some pointless quick fuck with him,” Y/N tells him truthfully. “Sure, I loved how as we both got buzzed things got a little more careless and touchy and flirty. But it was just fun and it made my head spin and my heart pretty much leaped out of my chest. It wasn’t just stupid pointless flirting to get laid, it was deeper than that,” she explains to her best friend. As her words spill out she realizes she doesn’t quite make sense, and yet it made perfect sense in her head how she felt about Harry.

“And you feel this way and managed to somehow not tackle this man down and fuck his brains?” Sammy questions, his voice in a joking tone but Y/N knows he’s genuinely confused.

“Obviously I imagined it,” she admits, “I fucking brought out my vibrator last night, Sammy, I was that turned on by the damn guy. But I really don’t want to mess this up with Harry. I don’t want to jump right into it after the break up with Mark, and then ruin what is hands down the best connection I’ve ever felt with someone before. I just want to see how things play out, don’t force anything, you know?” she spills out, letting out a deep breath afterwards.

Those words have been heavy on her chest since she woke up this morning and replayed everything that happened between her and Harry. The smiles, the longing looks, the drinks, the touching, the smirking, and the goddamn sexual tension. Yes, she wanted to kiss him, many, many, times; all over his body, anywhere that she could. She imagined how their night could’ve ended if she wanted just a simply messy hot drunk hookup. But she wanted more than that with Harry - so much more. It was the honest truth, regardless of how soon she’s broken up with Mark, she can’t ignore how her feelings have grown towards Harry. So, she was just going to let it go on and whatever happens, happens.

“So, what are you doing tonight?” Sammy asks, bringing the topic away from Harry - only for Y/N to bring it right back. Which was exactly how her thoughts have been doing lately too; drifting away from Harry for only a moment before flying right back to him.

“Um, I sort of drunkenly made plans to watch a movie with Harry tonight,” she says, “I don’t even know if he remembers, I’m just going to wing it and knock on his door later.”

“You know what you should do? You should invite him to the work holiday party,” Sammy suggests, “I’m getting tired of talking about him so much and yet I don’t even know what he really looks like cause you suck at taking discreet sneaky pictures,” he explains with a dramatic sigh. Y/N rolls her eyes and finally decides now is a good time to leave the bathroom, no longer feeling too sick from her hangover. But she still heads back to her bedroom, flopping down onto her bed.

“I don’t know, I don’t want to make it weird and invite him to something less casual,” Y/N says.

“Well, see how things play out these next few days and if it’s good then invite him, seriously I’m dying to see some eye candy, Y/N,” Sammy groans.

“Okay, Sammy, we’ll see,” Y/N says, matching his melodramatic tone. She lets out another sigh, which is then taken over by a yawn. “I’m going to go, my head is pounding and I think I should try and nap before dealing with some work emails and then going to Harry’s,” Y/N explains.

“Fine,” Sammy sighs, “it’s weird that you’re the hungover one and I’m not,” he mentions. Y/N lets out a laugh through her nose and shuts her eyes.

“Honestly, it is,” she agrees, “I’ll talk to you later.”

“Ok, bye, feel better,” Sammy says, Y/N hears the smile in his voice.

“Thanks, bye,” she says and then hangs up the phone. She puts it down beside her and keeps her eyes shut. Taking a few deep breaths, Y/N tries to fall back asleep again. And she’s just about to when she hears that familiar heart warming guitar from Harry’s apartment. She wonders how long he’s been up? If he’s hungover at all too? She could text him and ask, but instead she just lays there and smiles as she listens to the muffled sweet melody he’s playing - then falls back into a deep slumber that her hungover body so desperately needed.

Y/N had texted Harry earlier, after he had written an entire song, surprisingly not about her this time. Well there was one line he wrote down that had to do with Y/N - played with myself where were you. It was cheeky, and didn’t really go with anything else he had so he just flipped through his journal and let himself get immersed into his songwriting during the hours of the day. Only ever stopping to make himself food or to use the washroom - otherwise, he was working hard without even meaning to.

Her first text read, So what time should I come over to watch the Polar Express? And then her second one made Harry chuckle, Also that guitar playing sounds pretty heavenly today, can’t wait to hear it in person later. With a winking face emoji at the end and everything. Cheeky girl, and anytime after seven should be fine to come over. Harry texted her back, also adding a winking emoji and then he went back into his work, ordered dinner, and now here they were.

There’s a rather soft knock on Harry’s door, causing him to stop writing in his journal and gets up to answer it. After unlocking the door, he swings it open and is surprised to see Y/N’s arms full, nearly dropping a can of whipped cream as she smiles at him.

“I brought everything for hot chocolate,” she states, beaming up at Harry over the container that holds her hot chocolate mix.

“I can see that,” Harry chuckles and reaches out to take everything from her. “You know I could’ve helped you carry a few things over, and I also have plenty of mugs here,” he says, lifting a finger that held the Grinch mug he had used at her apartment about a week ago now.

“I know, but mine are Christmas themed and it’s literally twelve days till Christmas and I need to use them as much as possible,” Y/N explains as she steps into Harry’s home and closes the door behind them. Harry takes in her appearance. Black leggings and a FIT jumper, and a pair of pink fuzzy socks on her feet. Harry’s brows pinch together as he holds back a laugh. “It’s only a few feet between our apartments, as you know, shoes are kind of pointless going back and forth,” she states with a nod.

Harry chuckles, lifting a brow and turning the corners of his lips up into a smile before saying, “yes, been there,” he says recalling the last time they had a movie night.

And just like that time, they moved together to the kitchen - after Harry locks the door behind Y/N - and they begin to make their hot chocolate in the two Christmas mugs Y/N brought along with her. Harry finds it endearing that she felt she needed to not only bring the supplies for hot chocolate, but also brought along her Christmas themed mugs. She truly does love the holidays, Harry thinks as he pours the boiling water into the mugs that Y/N had put the mix into. As they’re in the kitchen they’re talking about how their days were.

“So hungover,” Y/N groans, confirming how she had felt today after Harry had asked.

“You did drink that tequila like it was water though,” Harry states, chuckling as he watches Y/N stir the spoon in the mugs to mix up the hot chocolate. Y/N lets out a playful hiss as if the thought of all that tequila hurt her to think about now.

“I probably looked like a drunk in front of all your friends,” she thinks aloud. She frowns as she wraps her hand around the can of whipped cream, shaking it a few times before tipping it upside down and pushing the tip of it to fill up the top of the mug. She grabs the Grinch mug with one hand and holds it to Harry, making it smile as he realizes she remembered how he used that mug last time.

“They were just as drunk, maybe even more,” Harry tells her, “in fact, Mitch pulled an all nighter.”

“Well, good,” Y/N sighs, following him into the living room with both her hands wrapped around the Santa mug. “I really did have fun though,” she adds as they take a seat on the couch.

Harry meets her gaze after she takes a sip of her hot chocolate. A bit of whipped cream gets on her upper lip as she pulls the mug away. Y/N realizes and sticks her tongue out to swipe it over her lip, licking it away. Harry’s gaze is glued to her movements, his mouth suddenly feeling dry as he inhales slowly through his nose. And those certain thoughts of Y/N didn’t hide away for very long, Harry thinks before he clears his throat quietly and lifts his mug to his lips.

“I did too,” he says, “all of us did, they said you were cool like five times in our groupchat,” he adds before taking a sip of his warm drink. Y/N stomach lunges knowing that him and his friends talked about her in their groupchat. Has she been a topic of discussion before?

“Me? Cool?” Y/N questions, confusion thick in her voice. “No way, they’re the cool ones, not me. I mean you are all clearly very musically gifted and get to just hangout and make music and I find it all just very… Cool,” Y/N explains as she ends with a small sigh and smiles at Harry.

“It can be pretty cool, yeah,” Harry nods, mirroring her smile.

“Speaking of being musically gifted,” Y/N hums, smirking over her mug before taking another sip.

Harry knows where she’s going with this already. He gets that familiar nervous feeling in his stomach, nothing like the butterflies he was feeling just before knowing that she finds his line or work ‘cool’ - in fact he feels his smile slip immediately but tries to cover it with a cough. He sets down his mug and brings his hands to his lap, leaning back into the couch while he looks at the blank TV screen on the wall.

“Will you play something for me?” Y/N asks in that intoxicating softly spoken voice of hers.

“I want to play for you, I do,” Harry assures her after a few beats of silence, as he tried to figure out how to get her to drop this idea of him playing for her.

“But?” Y/N inquiries, tilting her head slightly to try and look at his face better. He looks uncomfortable, Y/N thinks and tries her hardest to not frown. She guesses that he’s just got a bit of stage fright of some sorts. But he plays for a living, there must be a few people he plays in front of at the studio.

“But, I want to have the perfect song to show you,” Harry tells her as he turns to meet her eyes. It’s not a lie, he truly does want to play the most perfect song for her. But that nervous feeling in his stomach doesn’t go away.

“I’m sure all your songs are perfect,” Y/N assures him. Her voice is still as gentle as before.

“And also it’s my wrist,” Harry says suddenly, lifting his right wrist up, “I got surgery on it earlier this year, it’s just been acting up.” Quick thinking, Styles, he thinks and gives her a smile.

Y/N remembers how she had heard him playing earlier today. But by the way that Harry’s avoiding Y/N’s eyes again while this stretch of silence falls between them, and the fact he’s rubbing at his wrist for good measure too, Y/N knows that he’s not ready yet to play in front of her. So, she gives him a sweet smile and stands up from the couch suddenly.

“I have this heating pad, I use it on my ankle that I broke a few years back, it helps sometimes,” Y/N explains, “I’ll go get it,” she says.

Truthfully she just needed a moment to not have to hide how it hurt her feelings just a tad that Harry didn’t feel comfortable enough around her to play. It wasn’t the biggest deal ever, because she sure that one day he will. But it still makes her a bit sad that today’s not that day.

“Y/N, it’s fine, really,” Harry brushes off her suggestion.

“H, I live next door, I’ll be back in two seconds,” she insists, giving him a smile and walking from her seat on the couch, setting down her mug on the coffee table before she’s making her way around Harry as he sits there watching her.

“Okay,” Harry says softly and nods before Y/N is walking out of his apartment. The second the door closes behind her Harry’s deep in his thoughts.

Harry has a pretty high case of stage fright, the feeling of nerves bundling up inside of him at the thought of performing in front of people even made him feel a bit sick sometimes. It was something he’s been working on for years now, through schooling and with his career as a songwriter starting up afterwards too. He would eventually talk himself out of the fear of failing during any uni exams he had, and would ace it naturally, but that ball of nerves sat heavy in his stomach the entire time. When it came to his job, he simply warmed up to his colleagues. At first he didn’t speak up much, would stumble on some notes, but things worked out in the end. It helped a lot after he found his current group as they became his closest mates too, so he became much more comfortable with playing for them over some time.

He realizes that he considers Y/N a close friend now too, and that should mean that he would feel more than confident walking over to the acoustic guitar sitting at it’s stand in the corner by the chair in the living room - but he didn’t quite yet. And one of the main reasons was because he felt something much deeper than friendship. He really freaking liked her. And if he played something, mucking it up like an idiot because of his nerves, he would beat himself up over it for days if not weeks.

Harry imagines the first time he plays a song for her that will be perfect. The song would be about her, he’s got a few of those now, and as he plucked along slowly he’d peer up at her to find her smiling back at him. Then he would really surprise her and sing. Harry knows he can sing well, but again his stage fright that relates to a fear of failing causes him to not sing all that often. He’ll sing for demos for work, or when he’s by himself, but that’s about it. Mitch actually had asked Harry if he wanted to be a part of the band before he found their lead singer, but Harry politely declined and has more than enjoyed just sitting back and watching his friends play instead. Although there’s a small pit of jealousy and envy that’s been growing in size every time he watches them.

Suddenly the door opens back up and Harry’s snapping out of his thoughts to look over his shoulder at Y/N walking in with some brown fabric in her hands. She turns to lock Harry’s door, then turns around and holds up the heating pad in her hands with a smile. It’s a sloth, a simple stitching on it to show it’s hugging wherever it’s placed on someone’s body and a smile on its face.

“I got it not too long ago, while shopping for other people's gifts, actually,” Y/N admits and starts making her way into the kitchen. “Do you do that thing where you are supposed to just be buying presents for other people but you end up buying yourself something too?” She asks Harry, raising her voice slightly as she’s put some distance between them.

“Yes, it’s hard not to,” Harry says as watches her open his microwave and place the sloth inside. She pushes some buttons and it starts up. As the sloth spins inside, Y/N turns around and leans her back against the counter and looks through the open concept space at where Harry sat on the couch.

“Have you bought any presents this year?” She asks, knowing that he’s not going home for Christmas so therefore he wouldn’t have to buy much.

“Just some for Mitch, Adam and his wife and then Tom and Jenny,” Harry states, “what about you? Do you have lots of family to buy gifts for?”

“Not really,” Y/N lifts one shoulder in a shrug, “I’m an only child, but my aunt has a couple kids so I kind of go crazy for them,” she explains with a smile. The microwave beeps, signalling that the heating pad was all warmed up, and Y/N turns back around to open the door and grabs it. It’s not too warm, so she closes the microwave door and makes her way back over to Harry.

She hands the heating pad to Harry and he gives her a smile. He says a quiet ‘thank you’ and places it over his wrist that’s resting on his thigh. It does feel rather nice, actually, he thinks as he adjusts his hand under the warm sloth. He feels a bit bad for making up the little white lie, although his wrist does ache from time to time, it wasn’t in any sort of pain right now. But he’s just being a stupid little coward and deflecting her attention on him playing her something on his guitar. Harry does notice how Y/N’s eyes linger on the acoustic guitar across the room as she leans over to grab her hot chocolate again and takes her seat on the couch once more. You’re such an ass, Styles, Harry thinks to himself but clears his throat and looks at Y/N.

“Did you enjoy growing up as an only child?” He asks. Harry personally couldn’t imagine growing up on his own. His sister, Gemma, was one of his best friends and he was also rather close with cousins while growing up too so they felt a bit like siblings too.

“Not really, no,” Y/N answers truthfully. She clears her throat and looks down at the Santa mug in her hands. “My parents were always busy with working or socializing, sometimes I was invited to come along, other times I was kept away with a nanny or my Aunt would visit sometimes and keep me company.” She tells Harry, feeling herself slowly open up to the idea of sharing everything with him. She hardly told Mark a thing about her childhood or her parents - mostly because he already knew, since he grew up in the same sort of crowd.

“Are you close with your Aunt then?” Harry asks, keeping his voice in that low tone that still brought goosebumps to Y/N’s skin from time to time.

Y/N’s lips tug slightly up into a smile, looking up from her mug and meeting Harry’s gaze. “Yes, she’s probably the one family member that I am close with. I love my parents, don’t get me wrong,” she pauses and ponders how to explain it to him, looking up at the ceiling for only a moment before looking back at Harry. “They just value life a bit differently than me. My Aunt, Vivian, she’s just the most chill and most like me I guess,” Y/N settles with keeping it easy, not digging too deep into her family drama.

Her Aunt Viv, who was her mothers younger sister, was truly the only person in her family that she felt she connected with. Y/N did love her mom and dad, they gave her a life better than she could ever ask for, but they were much more into the lifestyle and gaining wealth and social status over being a true loving family. Hence the many after school programs they stuck her in, and also having a live-in nanny till she was fourteen. But when Viv was around things felt a bit normal in her ridiculously abnormal life.

Viv didn’t have the same big dreams of being a gold digger like Y/N’s mom did, so she went to university, fell in love with a nice young man who worked a normal blue collar type of job and they bought a house just outside of New Jersey. They never ask for any help from Y/N’s parents, and they worked very hard for the life they’re provided for their two young kids. She just found Viv to be much more inspiring than her own mother who’s days included online shopping and luncheons with fellow wives who lived off their wealthy husbands' money. As Y/N grew up, Viv would take her away from her nanny some nights and would just bring her to her home and watch movies, have painting nights, and would even sit down with Y/N for hours watching red carpet events too - knowing her love for fashion even at a young age. She became Y/N’s friend more than another snobby family member.

Harry had respectfully stayed quiet as he saw Y/N fall into deep thought. He didn’t want to ask anymore questions that would cross any lines because from what little he has heard, Y/N’s family life is a bit more complicated than he could imagine. Y/N smiles suddenly, as she’s thinking of a memory.

“Viv was actually the one who really got me into the love for the holidays,” she states, “like, yeah, my parents would go all out with the decorations and the gifts and the parties. But Viv introduced me to the better part of the holidays in my opinion, like she’d take me to the rinks around the city to skate, and she’d show me the city’s festive sights. We’d even have days dedicated to going to the Christmas market. And during all that she’d always have a Starbucks holiday drink in her hand. I guess you could say I sort of modelled my young adult self to be like her during the holidays,” Y/N explains with a smile on her lips.

Those times slowly sadly faded out after Y/N got into high school, and Viv finished uni and met her husband. They wouldn’t go to the rink as much, or go for pointless walks to see the city’s many lights and Christmas Trees. Before Y/N knew it, all those childhood memories that she cherished just slid away, but she understood - they both grew up and she would hold onto those memories that her Aunt Vivian gave her to her heart closely forever.

“But as we both got older, life got busy and now she gets to do all those things over again with her own kids and not her sisters neglected one,” Y/N tries to make it sound like a joke, but it wasn’t.

She hides her frown behind her Santa mug and takes a generous sip, the drink having grown colder as time has passed. Harry’s about to make a comment, about how he’s grateful that Y/N did at least have her Aunt, but Y/N speaks up before he can.

“What about you? What were the holidays like growing up?” She asks, a smile returning to her lips.

“Great, honestly,” Harry nods, letting a short chuckle pass his lips, “my family can be a bit nuts, they love family time and being overbearing with playing silly games or family photos. But, I love it,” Harry explains, smiling.

He thinks about last year, how competitive him and his family got during a game they had played, or how big his mum and gran smiled as they popped Christmas crackers and everyone wore those paper crowns for one of the many photos his mum insisted on taking.

Y/N is mirroring his smile, tucking her mug to her chest as she listens to him. Sounds like a much better time than the memories she has with her parents around the holidays, Y/N thinks feeling a bit jealous - as she did whenever anyone told her of their holiday traditions and such. She can’t help but notice the distant look in his eyes as he grabs his mug.

“It’s actually the first Christmas I won’t be spending with my family, as I mentioned before,” he states, clearing his throat afterward as the emotions threaten to come in quick. He takes a sip of his hot chocolate and points to the TV then. “Should I pull up the movie before we’re sitting here drinking cold chocolate?” Harry asks. Because, truthfully, he could sit here all night and talk about life with Y/N but they had planned to watch a movie.

“Sure,” Y/N smiles, although feeling a bit sad being reminded that Harry wasn’t going home for the holidays. She takes another sip of her drink again, before she’s turning her body to watch the TV screen on the wall as Harry grabs for the remote and finds the Polar Express on demand.

As the movie begins to play, they both get comfortable and sip their hot chocolates till their Christmas mugs are empty. Harry offers to take Y/N’s mug, so she doesn’t have to sit up from the slouched position she’s slipped into in her corner of the couch, placing it beside his on the coffee table before he relaxes back into his spot. It’s about half way through the movie, after they had jokingly sung along with the hot chocolate song of course, when Y/N is nearly laying out on her end of the couch. Harry feels selfish for not offering the side he’s on, as he has his legs stretched out on the chaise of the couch. Y/N slowly lets her legs slip out across the cushion between them till they’re just slightly bent and the fuzzy pink socks on her feet just barely brush Harry’s thigh.

Her toes wiggle a little, tapping against the side of Harry’s thigh ever so gently, but it causes a much less gentle reaction in his body. His stomach fluttering and his heart pounding as he glances at Y/N in the corner of his eye. A feeling of undesirable desire filters through him as she wiggles her toes again before settling her feet hardly even touching him. But it’s more the act of being comfortable around Harry that has him feeling like his heart might explode.

He’s tempted to grab onto her ankles and stretch out her legs completely so her feet would rest in his lap. Maybe he’d rub her calves, hoping the feeling made her stomach flutter as much as his. But he didn’t want to cross any sort of line. So he was content with the tiny bit of contact between them from her feet resting on the side of his thigh as the movie kept playing.

It wasn’t till near the very end that Harry heard a soft snore come from Y/N. He turns his head completely and looks over at her. Her eyes shut, her lips parted slightly, as she laid on her arms folded under her head. Harry isn’t sure how to react here, should he wake her? Or let her slumber because it’s obvious she needs it since she fell asleep during what she claims to be her favourite holiday movie. Harry ponders for a moment before he decides to finish watching the movie. Once it’s finished is when he’d make his decision.

“Y/N,” Harry says as the credits are rolling. She doesn’t move a muscle. “Y/N, darling,” Harry tries again in a gentle voice, placing a hand on her leg and giving her one good nudge. To which Y/N doesn’t respond at all.

That hangover must be hitting her body hard, begging for the sleep she needed to fully recover. So, Harry reaches for the knitted blanket that’s resting over the back of his couch and paces it over Y/N’s body. As he gets up from the couch, he turns back around and looks at Y/N for a moment - taking in her effortless beauty even while she’s sleeping.

With a nearly inaudible sigh, Harry gathers up their mugs, bringing them to his kitchen and quietly rinsing them out before he double checks that the heat is at a reasonable temperature. It was supposed to get rather cold tonight and he didn’t want Y/N to wake up freezing in his home. Once he’s turned off the TV and the only lights left on are from his tree, he turns back to Y/N. The soft glow from the Christmas lights casting over her breathtaking features causes yet another stir of feelings inside his stomach.

He wishes he could bend down, place a soft kiss to her forehead - maybe one day soon he could. Maybe even get to fall asleep next to her, staring at her beauty till he drifted into a slumber as well. But for now, he just quietly walks down the hall to his bedroom and leaves his door open a few inches just in case Y/N woke up in a panic or anything. He’d be a lighter sleeper than usual tonight, thinking about how close Y/N was.

At one point in the middle of the night Y/N woke up. Her eyelids were still heavy as she tried to focus on the space around her. She had fallen asleep during the movie, in Harry’s apartment, on his couch - oh god. A wave of embarrassment washed over her as her eyes flicker from the blank TV screen, to the now empty other side of the couch, before settling on the warm lights of the Christmas tree.

She should get up and head home to her own apartment and not be an idiot who falls asleep on her friend's couch uninvited. Y/N’s fingers curl around the top of the warm blanket that Harry must’ve draped over her before heading to bed himself. The pads of her fingers brush over the soft fabric while her heart beats like crazy in her chest. Harry’s sweetness and well mannered actions shouldn’t surprise Y/N anymore - but they do. She smiles and brings the blanket to her chin, snuggling into the couch once more and tries to not think about how sore her neck and back will be in the morning from sleeping on the couch. Instead she looks at the Christmas tree as her eyelids grow heavy again and she slips back into her dreamstate once more.

The next time she wakes it’s due to the sun peering through the curtains in Harry’s living room. She blinks a few times and brings a hand up to rub the sleep from her eyes. Suddenly she hears a noise coming from a few feet away from her. Y/N’s heart all but leaps out of her chest as she sits up on the couch and looks to where the noise came from. Her wide eyes meet Harry’s equally widened eyes, him pausing mid-movement as he must’ve been grabbing a mug from the cabinet.

“Sorry,” he says quietly, bearing his clenched teeth to her in a joking but nervous way. His dimple deepens at the facial expression, Y/N notices it right away even from a room away from him.

“It’s okay,” she replies. Her voice sounds a little scratchy as it’s the first time using it since waking. How utterly adorable, Harry thinks as he smiles at her and sets his mug down at his coffee maker before hitting start. “And I should be the one apologizing, I kinda ended up crashing on your couch uninvited,” Y/N says, running a hand through her hair to try and tame it.

“It wasn’t a problem, Y/N, nothing to be sorry about,” Harry tells her, walking towards her till he got to the large threshold between his open concept kitchen and living room. He crosses his arms at his chest and Y/N notices how the muscles in his arms flex immediately. “Must have been a hangover side effect, hm?” Harry questions.

Y/N clears her throat as she tries to not take in Harry’s appearance in the morning but she can’t help herself. He’s wearing a pair of black sweatpants with a simple grey t-shirt, white socks covering his feet, and while him dressed down did look hot - it was how his hair looked that really took her breath away. The way it looks much more fluffy than usual, most likely from rolling around in his bed, made her stomach flutter and she ended up biting her bottom lip as he brought a hand up to push back the bit of hair that had fallen over his forehead. Y/N blinks a few times before meeting his gaze again.

“You’d think the nap I took before coming over would help with my hangover but I guess not,” Y/N states, she exhales through her nose and shakes her head before folding her arms over the back of the couch and rests her chin on them. “But again, I’m sorry,” she adds.

“And again, it’s okay,” Harry ensures her, dropping his arms to his sides as he smiles. “Now, would you like a cup of hot chocolate or coffee?” He asks.

“Coffee,” Y/N answers, her voice back to that soft and gentle tone that made Harry’s head spin. He recalls when they first met, and how he wished he could hear her voice each night and morning. His wish is slowly coming true, although he imagines it involving her in bed more often than not. But for now, he’ll take her waking up on his couch any day if it means he gets to hear her voice.

Harry nods and walks back over to where the mug filled of freshly brewed coffee now sat. Y/N tilts her head to the left, still resting her chin on her arms, as she watches Harry move around his kitchen. He calls over his shoulder to ask what she’d like in her coffee, with which she replies ‘two teaspoons of sugar please’ - that earns her a half smile as he glances her way again and mutters ‘why am i not surprised’, causing Y/N to mock a hurt look on her face and gasps.

“What is that supposed to mean?” She questions, watching him stir up the sugar in her coffee. Harry turns and brings the mug over to her, causing her to sit up straight again and grab it from him with both hands.

“It means you love sugar as much as any toddler would, I swear,” Harry teases.

“Something wrong with liking the taste of something sweet?” She questions, raising a brow as she looks up at him from where he stood on the other side of the back of the couch.

Harry’s breath hitches in his throat at her choice of words. He immediately wants to answer back with ‘well I want to taste you, all of you, so no’ but instead he holds back his filthy thoughts and gulps. Y/N notices Harry’s Adam's apple bob up and down as she stares up at him through her lashes, slowly bringing the mug he had just given her to her lips to give it a taste. Harry watches her the entire time as she sips the coffee and licks it off her lips. Everything inside of him is begging to touch her. To bring the pad of his thumb over her bottom lip, catching the last few drops of her drink off her lip, and bringing it to his mouth to get a taste. Or to just take the mug right back, place it on the closest surface and take her face into his hands to kiss her fiercely.

Harry struggles but pushes away his thoughts once again, for what felt like the millionth time this morning, and raises an eyebrow, “sweet enough for you?” He asks, his voice teasing.

Y/N smiles sweetly and nods once, “it’s perfect, thank you,” she replies.

Harry mirrors her smile before he walks back to his kitchen, only then looking down at his sweatpants to ensure there wasn’t any noticeable bulge. It had taken a few disturbing images in his head to calm himself down and not be sporting a hard on in front of Y/N. But he manages, grabs his own mug - since Y/N now held his typical mug he uses for his morning coffee - and sets it into place.

“Any plans today?” Y/N asks, taking another sip of her coffee and feeling the warmth flood inside of her body. Or maybe that feeling was from how Harry had looked at her just now, she thinks.

“Nope,” Harry shakes his head and grabs for his own mug of black coffee. “What about you? No work today?” He asks, bringing the mug to his lips and blowing to cool it down before taking a sip.

Y/N shakes her head and leans back into the side of the couch, “my boss was nice enough to let us have today off, then back in for a few days but Friday, the eighteenth, isn’t really a big work day. We’re having our annual holiday party that night, so we mostly spend the day finalizing any party planning,” she explains to Harry as he leans back against the counter and sips his coffee again.

“Well that’s nice of her to give you the day off, then after the eighteenth are you off work for holidays?” Harry asks.

“Yup,” she nods, “I get two weeks off, back into the swing of things on the fourth of January,” she states.

“Sounds nice,” Harry says with a smile. “I’m jealous you guys have an office Christmas party, my label only really does something for a select group of people. Whoever made them the most money, honestly,” Harry exclaims. What he doesn’t mention is that he had been invited, and has been for the past three years due to his songs hitting it big on radio or on the charts and causing some big ripples for the artists career that had bought them.

“Sounds like the party wouldn’t be all that fun then,” Y/N notes, tilting her head to the side as she watches Harry make his way into the living room and takes a seat on the couch. She tucks her feet up just under her bottom, resting her mug on her knees but still keeping both hands on it of course.

“I’m sure yours is a lot more fun,” Harry nods in agreement.

She should ask him to be her plus one then. But she hesitates, unsure of how he would see her invite. Would he think she’s trying to make it a date? So soon after her break up? Would he think he was being played as her rebound? She would then have to try and cover up that it wasn’t a date, that they could just go as friends, but then she’d sound like she was friend-zoning him and she really didn’t want that. So, while she’s all in her head about what to do, Harry decides to take a chance.

“Did you want to go for a walk around Central Park?” He asks, looking hopefully into Y/N’s eyes. “We can skate there, I’m sure you’ve been but their rink looks like it would be nice too,” Harry suggests.

Her lips tug up into a smile, “yeah, I would love that,” she pauses as her heart pitter patters in her chest at the sight of Harry smiling back at her. “After breakfast though, I’m starving,” she says, being a bit dramatic. But it makes Harry chuckle, which is exactly what she hoped for.

“How do you feel about some chocolate chip pancakes then?” Harry asks, raising a brow as he sits up straight again and mentally goes through the recipe in his head. It typically doesn’t have pancakes, let alone chocolate chip pancakes, but he has a feeling Y/N would like them. Her love for sugar being obvious by now.

“Love them,” Y/N says with a smile still on her lips.

Where did this perfect man come from? Y/N finds herself thinking as she watches Harry get up from the couch and walk back into the kitchen. He sips his coffee as he walks before setting it on the counter.

“I can help if you’d like,” she offers, raising her voice slightly so she knew Harry could hear her.

But Harry dismisses the idea quickly and tells her to just sit back and relax. Any bets on how much longer it took for her to fall for Harry? Y/N thinks, biting her bottom lip as she watches him bend over, peering deep into his fridge as he moves things out of the way in search for whatever he needs. His bum looks rather nice from this angle, she finds herself shamelessly checking him out. Her guess was that it wouldn’t be much longer at all till she fell for him.

“Did you invite him yet?” Sammy asks, biting on his pen as he leans back in his chair. They were waiting in the conference room, along with everyone else that held a higher position at her work, for Amanda to join them and start their final meeting of the year.

“No,” Y/N replies. She shrugs her shoulders and picks at the corner of her notebook.

“And why the hell not?”

“I don’t want to make it weird, bringing him to a work thing and have to explain to everyone how he’s just a friend even though I wish he was more,” she tells Sammy, eyes still on the torn up paper on the table in front of her.

“Well if you don’t invite him then you’re missing the perfect opportunity to make it more than a friendship,” Sammy states, giving her a side eye before he just rolls them and leans forward in his seat again. He leans towards Y/N and looks into her eyes, letting her know he means business. “Talk to him tonight, invite the poor man, and get out of your own head. You don’t have to keep yourself waiting because of what Mark did when you have what you truly deserve right in front of you. Harry makes you happy, I can just tell by the way you smile at your phone or when I see you ditched hanging with me to hang with him and his friends instead,” he says the last bit with sarcastic bitterness.

Y/N lets out a deep breath through her nose and licks her lips. Her brain is running a million miles an hour. As it has been for weeks now, since she met Harry honestly - she just likes him that much. At first she tried to deny it, and last weekend after her sudden break up with Mark she tried to convince herself again that she needed to keep Harry as a friend. But now, now she just wanted him - all of him, all of the time.

“Okay,” Y/N nods.

Sammy’s lips spread up into a wide smile, the look of excitement clear on his face, but to add to it he pumps a fist into the air. Y/N just rolls her eyes and laughs at him. Amanda enters the room soon after, starting up their final meeting of the year. She goes over numbers, stats, comparing last year to this year, and even promotes a few people. Thankfully, Y/N and Sammy are in their ideal positions now, so they never have that nervous feeling of going into a year-end meeting praying for a promotion. But Y/N still grins and claps for her colleagues who are working their way up in the company. After going through some minor details for their annual holiday party tomorrow, Amanda dismisses the team and Y/N is soon after heading home for the day.

Don’t be a pussy. Ask Harry to come to the holiday party or else. Sammy had texted her after they parted ways at the subway. Y/N bit down on her bottom lip, reading over the texts again as the elevator sounds a soft ding! and she walks out onto the sixth floor. Y/N confidently walks on her platform Doc Martin boots passed her own apartment door and right to Harry’s. Lifting her free hand, the other holding her Starbucks holiday drink, she knocks four times on the door before patiently waiting for him to answer. Her heart is beating so loud she can practically hear it ringing in her ears.

Harry answers the door after a few moments, his eyebrows pulling together at the sight of Y/N on the other side. While it’s a delight to see her, they hadn’t planned to hangout at all - so he’s rather surprised to see her standing before him. Y/N smiles and Harry’s quick to mirror it.

“Hey,” she breathes out, the same bundle of nerves that have been with her all day seeming to not relax in the slightest.

“Hey,” Harry smiles, “what’s up?” He asks, leaning against his door.

“Um,” Y/N pauses and closes her eyes, opening them to look at the floor before she takes a deep breath to meet his gaze again. Oh no, Harry thinks, feeling nervous since answering the door as he’s unsure how to take in her nonverbal cues right now. “So, you know that holiday party my work’s having that I mentioned?” Y/N questions, when Harry nods she doesn’t leave another second of hesitation slide by her before continuing. “I was wondering if, maybe, you’re not busy, if you wanted to come with me,” she stumbles out her invitation.

Harry’s truthfully a little surprised by her inviting him. His eyebrows now raised up his forehead as he processes her words. He immediately wants to say yes, obviously. Besides his clear as day feelings for Y/N, he also saw her as a friend too and he would love to accompany her for anything she asked him to.

“Everyone gets a plus one, and I can’t imagine bringing anyone else but you with me. Also, Sammy is practically begging me to introduce you two already,” Y/N exclaims as it seems Harry was in his head for too long. He smiles at her statements. First, blushing slightly at her comment about how she couldn’t imagine inviting anyone but him, and then holding back a chuckle at her mentioning her friend Sammy.

“It’s tomorrow, right?” Harry asks, half to just be sure and half to delay his answer to jokingly stress her out a little maybe.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, biting on her bottom lip for a moment. When Harry’s eyes fall to her teeth nibbling on her pink lips she notices and stops, butterflies present in her stomach at the thought of Harry thinking about her lips.

“I think I’m free,” Harry teases. He brings a hand to his chin, looking up at the ceiling in a joking manner as if he’s pondering what else could be on his schedule for the day. Y/N knows that he’s not doing a whole lot these days, but for all she knows he could have already had things planned with his friends. But Y/N can’t lie - she’s happy to hear he hasn’t.

Y/N chuckles and reaches forward, smacking his arm that’s resting on his chin with a gentle force. Harry chuckles along with her and stops his act as if he’s really thinking about if he can accept her invitation or not. Y/N lets her arms fall back to her side again and smiles, looking into Harry’s dazzling eyes as he smiles back at her. They stand there in his doorway, smiling, for a few beats of silence before Harry tells her.

“You’re going to have to help me with an outfit though,” he says, “there is no way I’m going to a party in New York City that a ton of fashion obsessed people will be at, without your help,” he states. Y/N chuckles again and nods, bringing her Starbucks cup to her mouth slowly.

“I can do that,” she says, tilting her cup to have a sip of the warm liquid.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “and what time will you be picking me up for this date?” He asks jokingly, although a big piece of him is hoping she won’t deny that it’s a date.

Y/N smiles, feeling a blush creeping onto her cheeks, “like, six-ish,” she tells him.

“Sounds good,” Harry says.

“Good,” Y/N nods, a smile still on her lips, “I have to go now though, I have a few presents for my coworkers I need to wrap and some last minute phone calls to make to get things all set for tomorrow,” Y/N explains, taking a few slow steps backwards while her eyes are still glued to Harry’s.

“I’ll see you tomorrow then,” Harry says, his smile never flattening either.

“Yes,” Y/N nods, her stomach in a fit of butterflies as she realizes that she really just invited him to her work party.

Turning on her heels, she hears Harry close his door, and walks to her own apartment to unlock the door. She did it, she’s going to be bringing Harry to a work function - this was kinda big, she realizes, but she’s too excited to worry right now. So, instead she turns on her Christmas playlist on her TV, after she steps out of her shoes and hangs up her coat, and sings along as she sets up her little workstation to wrap a few presents.

Y/N has been running around like a chicken with their head chopped off all day. She was determined to have this holiday party be perfect. Harry was her plus one, she imagined things going so well between the two of them tonight. But then things started to go south the moment she walked into the office this morning and Amanda bombarded her at the front doors, “we were double booked” she had told Y/N. Turns out their location for their party tonight was double booked and the other function had already paid off the business to let them have the space. Therefore having Y/N scrabbling for a place to have this party.

“We should just have it here,” Sammy suggested.

It was a last resort suggestion, but in reality it could work. The building their office was in had a decent sized room that was used for conferences and such. And after calling the building staff they learnt it wasn’t being used, so they started working on getting that set up.

Y/N was on the phone for hours, making sure the catering and bar services company they hired knew the relocation, and having them show up on time to get the set up going too. Then she was downstairs to help the decorations team replan their set up before she was literally running down the streets to the Target in order to buy new table clothes that would fit the tables the building provided. And somehow, with a little blood and sweat and a few tears shed too, Y/N made it happen.

She lets out a loud deep breath and looks at the room around her. The shimmering lights hanging down from the ceiling, perfectly placed so they wouldn’t hit anyone in the head but still looking very dreamy. There’s one wall full of fresh wreaths, some huge and some small, with matching red ribbons and ornaments on them. It’s picture perfect and Y/N already had taken a short video of them as they were setting it up to post on her Instagram. The way the plain white tablecloths she had bought earlier were now styled with more fresh pine that was used for the wreaths, with a few candles on each table and more red Christmas ornaments too, it all just looked so good. She especially loved the large real Christmas tree that she and Sammy took the time to decorate that sat in the far corner of the room by the gorgeously decorated bar that stretches along the back wall. Overall, it’s fashionable, Instagram worthy, and perfect.

Y/N is about to tell someone hired for the event to add a few more beaded garlands around the entryway when her phone rings. She gives the young woman a smile and holds up a finger while producing her phone that’s in her jean pocket. Looking at the screen she sees Harry’s name at the top, which causes a flutter of butterflies in her stomach. She smiles and swipes a finger across the screen to answer his call.

“Hey,” she says, walking away from the people that are rushing around her to finalize the party.

“Hey,” Harry breathes out. Y/N can hear the nerves in the one word. She furrows her brows and begins to worry that maybe he can’t make it anymore, suddenly feeling very upset at the thought. “You’re late,” he states. Y/N’s brows pinch together further and her eyes narrow.

“What?” She questions.

“Well, it’s almost six, and you’re supposed to help me pick something to wear, but I understand if you can’t or don’t want to. I’m sure I can figure something out, but don’t want to make you look bad by bringing a badly dressed bloke to your party,” Harry explains, catching himself sounding a bit needy. He didn’t need her to help style him for the holiday party, but he wanted her opinion of course.

“Oh my god what time is it?” Y/N gasps, asking Harry the question but really more asking herself as she realizes time has slipped by her in the whirlwind that was relocating this party.

“Um, quarter to six,” Harry tells her.

“Shit, H, I’m sorry, I haven’t looked at a clock in hours, I’m still at my office. We had to work fast and relocate the party for tonight, I’ve been so busy I didn’t even realize,” Y/N explains, her eyes searching around the room for either Amanda or Sammy or really anyone that could take over for her to hurriedly get ready.

“Oh, it’s okay, not a problem really,” Harry says, tapping a pen on the notebook that’s in front of him. He had been caught up a bit with his own work too, writing a song.

“Okay,” Y/N sighs, “game plan, you can send me pictures of some things you can wear tonight, I’ll give you my opinion, and then I’ll get ready here and are you okay to meet me in the lobby at seven-thirty?” Y/N asks, finally locking eyes with Amanda across the room.

Amanda’s eyes are wide at the sight of her, arms thrown up into the air as she’s confused as to why Y/N is still here - Y/N may have told her she had to meet up with her new plus one. Amanda was just as excited to meet Harry as Sammy was, damn gossiper had gone and told Amanda all about Y/N and Mark’s breakup and about Harry now too. Y/N had glared at Sammy as Amanda asked a million questions about Harry earlier.

“Okay,” Harry nods, “I can do that, did you need me to bring you anything or are you all set at your office?”

Y/N smiles at Harry naturally asking her if she needed anything from him. “I’m good, I’ll just text you the address and let me know when you’re on the way, okay?”

“Okay,” Harry echoes.

“Okay, I have to go, I’ll see you soon,” she says. Harry says a goodbye before she hangs up the phone just as Amanda is walking up to her.

“What in the world are you still doing here? I thought you were supposed to leave like an hour ago to go get ready and meet up with your new man?” Amanda questions. She is dressed for tonight's festivities, wearing a sparkling silver gown that fit her like a glove. Her hair is out of it’s usual low ponytail and is pin straight. She looks amazing, of course.

“First,” Y/N points a finger, “not my new man, by any means. And second, I got caught up helping with some issues with catering and then I was fixing some lighting issues. I’m going upstairs to get ready, and Harry is meeting me here,” she tells Amanda.

“Go, go,” she shoos her off, “steal a good dress from that room of broken dreams.”

Amanda is referring to the small room upstairs in their office that holds many pieces from over the year that clients didn’t fit, didn’t like, or just simply didn’t get to see. Y/N nods, having already planned to go there, and rushes away to get upstairs and get ready. As she opens the door to the room full of clothing Harry texts her a few pictures of items in his closet he has for tonight.

Her eyes are glued on her screen, attention taken away from her finding something the moment she sees Harry’s name. There’s a black suit laid on his bed in the first picture, the idea of seeing him in a classic black suit and tie has her feeling some type of way, but it’s not the look for tonight. She swipes to the next photo and likes the cream and light blue vertical stripe button up shirt but not the deep purple trousers he paired with them. But in the next picture she really likes the fun look to the trousers, like a sort of grandpa’s sweater vibe with browns and whites in an interesting square pattern. Completely ignoring the black shirt he had paired with it, she texts him back.

Shirt from the second pic and pants from the third one! Trust me! Lol. And here’s the address, she types quickly, sending him her location, before pocketing her phone and turning to the first rack of clothing. Immediately she grabs for a light blue Gucci suit jacket. It would go with Harry’s outfit perfectly, she thinks with a smile, putting it to the side for him. She remembers the suit was too big for a certain younger actor who was hosting SNL last week, Timothee something or another, if she’s remembering correctly.

Y/N goes through what feels like is a hundred dresses, pantsuits, and everything in between before she finds the one she likes. It’s her size, thank god, and isn’t too shimmery and crazy like she feels everyone else will be dressed like. It’s a bit of a darker blue that the colour of the suit jacket she had pulled aside for Harry, with thin straps and a tight torso that had wires for under his boobs for a built in bra type of look. It ends just above her ankles and is embroidered with beautiful beads and stunning flowers and leaf designs. But with a bit of a scandalous look as the embroidery isn’t as crowded near the bottom of the dress and leaves her in a sheer fabric. Overall, she just really enjoys how it looks and feels - and truthfully, she can’t be too picky with such little time to finish getting ready now.

It works out perfectly as she looks over herself in the washroom on the main level, fluffing her hair that she had curled and touching up her makeup, Harry texts that he’s just about to walk inside. Hurrying through out of the washroom, she walks out into the lobby, the black heels she had taken from the heap of shoes upstairs click along the floor as she waves hello and smiles at the people around that she knows. There would be just over a hundred people in attendance for their party tonight, not too big but not too small either, and she was happy to see all the familiar faces she’s gotten to work with over the year. But, there is one face in particular she’s most happy to see.

Only Harry’s not alone. In fact, she shouldn’t be all that surprised to see her best friend had managed to single him out in the small crowd that was waiting to get into the conference room she’s spent all day setting up. She sighs and makes her way towards them, smiling at another colleague that gave her a quick compliment as she passed by. Sammy caught her eye first, noticing how she’s glaring at him but he only smirks back at her.

Then Harry shifts, looking over his shoulder at whatever Sammy is looking at, and he pauses at the sight of Y/N only a few feet away. Holy shit, Harry thinks to himself as he takes in how she looks. The dress fits her flawlessly, accentuating her curves and causing Harry to shamelessly check her out. She’s always beautiful, stunning really, but tonight she looks like she should be a runway model. He feels a bit underdressed beside her, even though she picked out his outfit, even just a jacket would make him feel a little less casual at this event.

“You look,” Harry pauses as he struggles to find the right word. Y/N has stopped now in front of him, hands fiddling with her small clutch resting in front of her. “Just, unbelievable, wow,” Harry finally breathes out. His words cause a warm blush to creep over his face, her eyes falling to the floor to catch his black boots on his feet, as she hides away her grin.

“You look really good, too,” she tells him, although her words are far less swoon worthy than his words. It still causes Harry to smile too, his stomach doing a few flips.

“And how do I look?” Sammy asks jokingly, breaking their moment as they both turn to look at him. He’s smirking and holding out both arms, showing off his sparkling gold suit jacket that he’s worn with some black tight suit pants and a black button up shirt. He looks good, obviously, but Y/N shoulders shake as she chuckles at her friends behaviour.

“You look marvellous,” Harry compliments him with a smile, Y/N looks at Harry and shakes her head.

“Oh, he’s good,” Sammy notes, pointing a finger at Harry but is looking at Y/N. “If you don’t keep him I’ll take him, like that little feeling I get in my stomach when he speaks, hm,” he hums, winking at Harry for good measure too. Both Harry and Y/N chuckle at her friend. Suddenly someone is calling for Sammy’s attention, and of course, he answers to it right away and leaves Y/N and Harry to themselves.

“I’m sorry about him,” Y/N says as they face each other once more, “Sammy can be a lot to handle,” she adds.

“He wasn’t that bad,” Harry assures her.

She hums and smiles, narrowing her eyes at him playfully. “I find that hard to believe, but alright,” she says, “oh! I have something for your outfit,” she mentions, grabbing his arm gently to guide the way to the building's front desk where they had set up a coat check.

Harry’s in his own head about how she so naturally grabbed onto him, her delicate hand wrapped around his arm before dropping down to her side again as she approached the line that was for coat check. He furrows his brows, confused if she was going to ask for the jacket he had brought with him, but instead he watches as she walks around the tables and helps herself to the rack of jackets. She pulls out a light blue suit jacket and smiles over it at him, watching as his eyes widen. He knows the jacket, it was a part of Gucci’s line last season. He had browsed through some Vogue article and loved the colour immediately, how did she know?

“It’s just sitting upstairs, unworn, and it deserves some attention,” Y/N explains, holding it out for him.

“I can just wear this, tonight? No fee?” Harry asks, finding this situation a little unreal honestly.

“Well,” Y/N gives him a smug smile, “how about your fee is a dance with me, later,” she bargains.

“Oh, there will be plenty of dancing, of course,” Harry says. He takes the suit jacket off the hanger, passing the empty hanger back to Y/N and then puts on the jacket. Shrugging his shoulders a few times to get it to sit right on his body, but boy does it ever fit him well. Like it was made for him, honestly. Cause my god does it ever look good on him, Y/N thinks as she watches him straighten out the jacket till it feels comfortable. Harry looks up to see Y/N staring at him, her teeth sunk into her bottom lip. He smirks, dimples popping up for show, and it causes Y/N to snap out of it and turn to put the hanger away. She then takes the few steps forward to Harry and smiles while looking up at him.

“You look phenomenal,” Y/N tells him, upping her previous compliment from before. Harry’s heart swells at her words and he extends his bent arm, for her to hold onto his forearm.

“Shall we?” Harry asks, motioning for her to grab onto his arm and walk into the now open doors to her party.

“We shall,” she smiles and puts her hand on his arm to let him guide them into the party she spent all day preparing. Y/N can’t help but notice the looks the people around them are giving her, a few smirks from other girls - with obvious jealousy on their faces. It makes her head spin, realizing that she’s about to be the talk of the office all because of the hot guy on her arm. Little do they know, he’s a lot more than how good he looks in this light blue suit jacket.

It only takes an hour before the rest of the people at the party realize that Harry is more than that pretty face of his.

He charms the socks off of every single person she introduces him to. Not to mention that Sammy is basically attached to his hip, begging for the attention, and Amanda has given Y/N a thumbs up every chance she’s gotten. Which she’s currently doing from the sidelines of the dance floor as Y/N is dancing around with Sammy, Harry and a few others now a few hours into the party. Y/N chuckles, the few tequila drinks making her feel a bit giggly, as she throws her head back and sways to the music. Harry’s watching her, admiring how carefree she looks as she dances to the music. Not an ounce of worry of any judgement from her coworkers around her.

“Y/N,” a colleague of hers comes up, putting a hand on her arm to get her full attention. She smiles as she meets her eyes. “Merry Christmas love, I’m going to head out with my husband, who very much loves your new boyfriend by the way,” she explains, mirroring Y/N’s smile. Harry is distracted, dancing with Sammy, and thankfully doesn’t hear her comment.

“Oh! He’s not my boyfriend,” she informs her, for probably the third time tonight. But her older colleague, Heidi, is rather forgetful when she has a few glasses on wine - something she’d learnt over the few years of working together. “Also, I have a present for you, just wait here and I’ll go get it and be right back I promise,” Y/N assures her, giving her a pout for good measure.

Heidi sighs but is still smiling, “fine, I’ll wait,” she nods.

Y/N is walking passed Harry, causing him to pinch his brows together and reach out for her. Through the night they didn’t leave each other's side, even when one of them had to use the washroom they let each other know. His hand is gentle, grasping onto her arm as she’s about to walk away, and pulling her to look his way. Y/N matches his look of confusion but smiles at the little pout on Harry’s lips at the sight of her leaving the dance floor without him.

“Where are you going?” He asks, bending his head down closer to her. His breath is warm against the skin, his lips mere inches from her ear. A chill falls over her as she looks back into his enchanting eyes.

“Upstairs, I need to grab something,” she states.

“Oh,” Harry pauses, “okay,” he says, still looking into her eyes. They were so beautiful, she’s so beautiful.

“Did you want to come with me?” Y/N asks. She doesn’t know why she does, maybe because she doesn’t want to leave Harry’s side for a single second or maybe her buzz from the tequila is making her brave. She imagines some alone time with Harry for the first time tonight would be nice.

Harry nods and slowly lets his hand drop from her arm to her hand. Their fingers intertwining like it's natural, ignoring the wide eyed look from Sammy, and Y/N leads the way out of the room and into the lobby. Harry thinks she’ll drop his hand once they reach the elevator but she doesn’t. It’s like a volcano of butterflies has erupted in his stomach. Feeling bold, he brushes the pad of his thumb over the back of her hand a few times as he inhales her sweet smelling perfume as she stands so close to him while waiting for the elevator doors to open.

Every moment they’ve had together tonight has been amazing, the same longing looks and full smiles between them but were always surrounded by others. Seems Y/N is rather popular at her place of work, everyone wants to hang around her and he’s been introduced to more people than he can count. Although Y/N did whisper in his ear “Sammy and Amanda are the only ones you really need to remember”, thankfully. But he really is having a good time as they enjoyed a quick meal at the beginning of the night, talking amongst the people at their table, then when that was finished up the wine was replaced with harder alcohol and things got pretty wild. Turns out these New Year City fashion obsessed people knew how to party and it wasn’t all gossip and trends with them. Harry was finding himself laughing, dancing and feeling more free than he had in quite a while. And maybe the tequila drinks he’s been sipping was helping, as he actually ended up liking Y/N’s drink of choice.

“Everyone loves you,” Y/N states, breaking the silence just as the elevator opens and they step inside. Harry smirks and lets her step up to hit the button inside, using her free hand as they still are holding each other. Their hands hang in the air as she steps forward, hitting the button, and then steps back to be right beside him.

“Glad my charm could be of use to impress your coworkers,” Harry says, making Y/N smile but rolls her eyes as she squeezes his hand that still holds her. They’re holding hands! Don’t freak out! Y/N is internally screaming at herself.

“Cheeky,” Y/N teases, using his word back at him finally. Although all those times he’s texted her ‘cheeky’ or ‘cheeky girl’ she does get butterflies in her stomach.

“Oh really?” Harry questions, huffing out a chuckle while raising his eyebrows.

Y/N laughs and Harry pulls on her hand that he’s holding to bring her even closer to him. Their sides touch, her bare arm brushing against the suit jacket, and she swore a spark of electricity shot through them as they were now leaning against one another. She looks from their feet, toe to toe, to how her bent knee just barely strokes against his pants, then looking at their conjoint hands - Harry still rubbing his thumb against her warm skin every once in a while - all the way up to meet Harry’s eyes. His face is so close, only a few inches away from hers. Y/N’s breath gets caught in her throat, her lips parting as she inhales slowly while looking into Harry’s eyes. Are they about to kiss? Both Harry and Y/N’s thoughts are swarming with the idea of their lips pressing together and sharing their first kiss right here, right now in this elevator-

A sudden ding! causes them to blink out of whatever trance they were in. Y/N turns her head to watch the doors open onto her office floor, only a few dim lights are kept on during the night hours so it looks a bit different than during the day. Harry’s only watching her though. Taking in every inch of her lips. The curve of her cupids bow, the pout of her bottom lip. How good the red lipstick still looks even hours later since their night has gone on. Oh how he wants to mess up that red colour, smearing it with his own lips, he’s in his head with many thoughts as Y/N tugs on his hand to bring them out of the elevator and into the main area of the office.

She has to let go of Harry’s hand to enter in the code to the main doors for their office that are frosted glass, beside the large desk that their secretary answers calls and logs in clients entering for any appointments. The sleek look from the large frosted glass doors and all white marble flooring and white desk compliments the big block letters of their company name that have neon lights behind it. Currently the colours were red and green, glowing with full holiday cheer as Y/N loved so much.

Harry’s watching Y/N, her slight sway to her body as she pushes open the door and holds it open for Harry to walk through. He nods and smiles, then let's Y/N lead the way. While her office floor is all very exciting and professional, he’s more focused on Y/N. She’s talking about how she had bought some gifts for her coworkers and got so busy today she forgot a few. Harry was in awe of her and how she managed to pull off the relocation of this party so quickly. Amanda and many others were praising her all night, which Y/N would only respond by shaking her head and brushing off their kind words. He admires that about her a lot, how she is confident but doesn’t let people’s praises go to her head by any means.

As Y/N is walking across the room to her desk, something catches Harry’s eye. He pauses, double checks that Y/N isn’t watching him, and then leans over to the bulletin board at some random desk. With one swift movement he rips it off and then quickly stuffs it into the pocket of his jacket before he turns around to find Y/N at what he assumes is her desk. It’s a large white desk, up against the floor to ceiling windows, it’s quite the view - but, again, his eyes are only on her.

“Okay, so this one’s for Heidi, and then this one is for her and her husband,” Y/N is rambling aloud as she reaches under her desk for the few last presents she had. The only other one was for Sammy, so she should bring it down with her too to catch him before either of them leaves.

She stands up straight again, putting the presents on the desk when she looks over her shoulder at Harry. He’s staring, which isn’t new, but it still makes her smile and her head to spin knowing that his eyes always seem to be on her. But it’s the mischievous smile across his lips that brings Y/N to a stop, pinching her eyebrows together as she tilts her head to the side.

“What’s with the look?” Y/N asks, getting right to the point.

Harry raises a brow and jokingly says, “what look?”

Y/N just rolls her eyes and hums, pushing her hair over one shoulder as she turns her body towards Harry. She crosses her arms over her chest and Y/N doesn’t miss how his eyes drop to her movements for a split second before meeting her eyes again. She feels like she’s on fire under his stare, the burn so deep within her only blazing when he licks his lips. This is it, this is the moment, Harry thinks before he can second guess himself. He takes a step forward, standing so close to Y/N that the toes of their shoes touch and she has to look up into his piercing stare now.

Y/N notices him reach into his pocket, and then just as quickly, he takes his hand out and holds it above them. She furrows her brows, looking up to see something green between his fingers. Her heart stops, her breath getting caught in her throat as she inspects the item more. But when Harry clears his throat, her attention falls back into him. His beautiful green eyes look a bit nervous, it’s adorable, Y/N thinks.

“Can I kiss you underneath the mistletoe, Y/N?” Harry asks, his voice in that now familiar and warm low tone.

Y/N is pretty sure Harry can hear her heart beating out of her chest right now. She stares back into his eyes, feelings for this man hitting her like a wrecking ball. Y/N has never felt something so strong for someone before. And Harry standing here, holding mistletoe, asking to kiss her, it by far one of the most romantic things ever. Unsure she can find her voice, Y/N settles with nodding her head twice and never letting her eyes fall off Harry’s. His lips turn ever so slightly upwards, smiling, before he takes a deep breath and leans forward and both their eyes flutter shut as the moment they both have dreamt of is becoming a reality.

When their lips finally touch it feels like time itself stops around them. Like no one else or nothing else matters in the world but them in this moment right here. Y/N’s heart hasn’t settled one bit, and her knees feel weak as Harry’s free hand gently touches her hip to steady them both. She tries to ignore the touch and instead focus on how soft his lips feel against hers. The feeling flares the burn she feels around him and only amplifies at how addicting his kiss is.

But it was clear, Y/N and Harry both could never dream up a kiss was perfect as this one. Harry’s pure raw emotion that he feels as he decides to pull back from the kiss, to look at Y/N with his eyes only half open, he just had to make sure he wasn’t imagining any of this. But she’s just as beautiful with her swollen lips and half open dreamy eyes as he had thought.

This time Y/N pulls Harry down by wrapping both arms around his shoulders, nudging his head down to meet her halfway and get lost in their kissing again. Harry now is clenching the plastic mistletoe in one hand while both his hands curl up at her hips. With every second, every smell of her rose perfume filling his nose, he’s sure he’ll wake from this dream at any time. The twisting in both their stomachs don’t settle as the kiss continues, Y/N’s lips parting slightly as she breathes out a small gasp when they both pull each other even closer.

Their bodies are basically molding into one, Y/N’s hair falling into their face as she tugs him even closer if it’s possible. But Harry quickly reacts and brings the hand without the mistletoe up, carding his fingers through her locks and bringing the hair away from their moving lips before he rests his hand on her cheek. The only reason that they both pull apart the second time is because they need air - both their chests are heaving against one another as they struggle to catch their breath.

Y/N could never describe the sensations she was feeling in the fleeting second after their kiss. She opens her eyes, looking at Harry’s chest as it rises and falls in quick motions, before she slowly raises her gaze. There’s a pit in her stomach, feeling a bit nervous to meet his eyes after such a passionate kiss. So she takes her time, her eyes scanning over Harry’s face. His sharp jaw, clenching as he watches her. She smiles at the sight of her red lipstick just faintly smudging against his own lips. Finally, she lifts her eyes and meets his stare.

“Amazing,” Harry breathes out, his breath fanning over her lips.

“Breathtaking, actually,” Y/N corrects him, lifting her lips into a bit of a cheeky smile. Harry huffs out a chuckle and smiles, squeezing her side as he lets his hand drop from her face. He seems like he might step away, but Y/N doesn’t want their little bubble to burst quite yet. So she pouts and rubs her thumb over the side of his neck slowly. “Kiss me again, please,” she says in a soft voice.

“Always, darling,” Harry tells her and brings both his hands up to cup her face, tilting her head back just slightly in order to place his lips over hers again. Their kiss only last for another moment before Y/N gets a sudden prick to her cheek, causing her to break away and furrow her brows.

“What the-?” Y/N pauses as she takes Harry's hand and uses her fingers to pry back his own. A giggle passes her lips as the sight inside his hand. She takes the plastic green leaves and red berries. Rolling her lips into her mouth, she tries to hold back the laughter bubbling inside of her.

“What?” Harry questions, letting Y/N take the mistletoe out of his hand.

“Harry,” she sighs and looks up at him, “this is holly, not mistletoe,” she explains. It’s a common misconception, truly, but it only makes the moment they just had all that more special.

Harry’s cheeks heat up instantly at her words. Pure embarrassment washing over him as he didn’t even realize his mistake. His whole big romantic gesture now in the ruins because they kissed underneath holly not mistletoe. Harry shakes his head and reaches for the holly in Y/N’s hand, but she moves faster and closes her hand around it - not caring that it pokes her palm. He is the one to pull together his eyebrows now, meeting her eyes.

“No, it’s okay,” she admits to him, placing the holly carefully on her desk without looking away from Harry’s eyes. “I don’t care that you made a common mistake, don’t beat yourself up about it,” she says, bringing her free hand to brush against his warm red cheeks. “It was-” she pauses and lets out a deep breath, “you’re perfect, H,” she says.

“No, you are,” he declares, meeting her halfway again to crash their lips together once more.

thanks for reading, please reblog/leave some feedback if you enjoyed it! until part 5 😘

*like this post if you’d like to be added to the cstsyl taglist!*

#harry styles writing #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles fanfic #harry styles one shot #harry styles series #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #1dff #cstsyl #OK AT FIRST I HATED HOW THIS PART WAS TURNING OUT BUT I ENDED UP SAVING IT??? I THINK?#pls feel free to talk to me about it!! and remember to like and reblog :)

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castlevania-afterdark-imagines · 4 years ago

Text

Christmas Headcanons

This year has been a ride for everyone, so as a gift: some cute holiday HCs! We'll try to get to rolling out match ups after the festivities die down.

Trevor

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: Every ornament every Belmont child has made since his great great great great granddaddy. No tinsel though, the hunting dogs always try to eat it.

Favorite Holiday Treat: Gingerbread cookies! But he has Opinions™ about gingerbread houses. Why the hell put so much good candy on a decor piece people don’t let you eat?!

Holiday Lingerie Styles: Santa hat, clean pair of briefs, if not commando. Simple, but just as effective when he announces he’s planning on cumming down your chimney tonight.

Christmas Morning Jammies: A red onesie with white and red striped socks (If he really had his way it’d be what he slept in, but once the family started gathering for Christmas morning...well, best not to be dick out in front of the kids)

Alucard

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: Very simple, white lights and gold ornaments. It gives a nice warm glow, easy to assemble, and not super obvious when a bauble goes missing because they all look alike.

Favorite Holiday Treat: Eggnog. Yes, he’s aware it’s devisive as fuck, but anyone who takes issues with drinking what’s basically melted ice cream clearly missed the memo about the holidays being the time to indulge.

Holiday Lingerie Styles: He’s not really a lingerie guy to start, but if it’s a romantic Christmas lovemaking you want, he’ll nail the decorating just like he nails you. The lack of lingerie is made up for by the home makeover your room goes through to become a winter wonderland He splurges on white satin sheets that feel hideously luxerious to fucking ruin before Christmas morning.

Christmas Morning Jammies: Cream nightshirt, with red ribbon accents and matching pajama slacks

Sypha

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: She’s precise, taking her time to put up every ornament with care and making sure the tree has a healthy balance of decoration on every side. It’s cute when she gets frustrated upon finding a bare spot.

Favorite Holiday Treat: Rumballs. Just enough to make her nose a little warm, and they’re too heavy to have any other time of year.

Holiday Lingerie Styles: Lingerie implies a lack of coverage, and this lady runs cold. She might pick some lacey and soft white strap getup, but that is going to be hidden under a very thick house robe until you can get her warmed up enough to remove it.

Christmas Morning Jammies: Same thick houserobe, whether or not there’s anything underneath it entirely depends on whether or not her family had left the house already.

Dracula

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: Honestly, if left to his own devices he won’t have one. But if he has a partner or Adrian is staying over he’ll get a live tree and do some white lights with red garlands.

Favorite Holiday Treat: He’d say the wine, but honestly he drinks that year round. Upon observation you do notice a distinct increase in candy cane consumption.

Holiday Lingerie Styles: The one thing this man will get into the festive mood for. Low key likes couple sets, they’re ridiculous of course but if you both have some flimsy and strappy excuses for coverage it makes running around the house trying to tear them off each other so much more fun. Also he’d sell his soul for getting to rip up some thigh highs.

Christmas Morning Jammies: What jammies? Simple red satin button downs, they’re very soft but not the best for keeping him warm. That’s your job after all.

Lisa

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: Lights, lights, and more lights. She hates the short days so you have many different sizes of trees throughout the house with mixes of colored and white lights. The main tree in the living room gets all of the ornaments though, the others are there to give off the enchanted forest vibe.

Favorite Holiday Treat: Danish cookies. She hides her medical glove supply in the tin when she’s done. It’s just as upsetting to whoever finds them as finding sewing supplies.

Holiday Lingerie Styles: Angelic lace robe that hits about mid thigh and white fingerless gautlet gloves.. She already has cute lacey undies and bralets for other times of year so for her the up-styling for Christmastime is in the accessories.

Christmas Morning Jammies: All of the soft things. Fuzzy socks, sweatpants, fleece pullover, it takes her a bit to warm up in the morning, so cozy her up with a blanket and some hot tea.

Godbrand

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: Chaotic. Like some shit out of a Saturday morning cartoon, this man grabs the string of lights and spins the tree and lets them wrap around it wherever the hell they want. Cards taped to the walls, figurines placed in raunchy positions on the mantle, this ain’t your grandma’s Xmas.

Favorite Holiday Treat: Everything baked, but any kind of bread-based thing is the best. Though he also goes a bit feral for all of the roasted meats.

Holiday Lingerie Styles: Ugly sweater sans pants. Okay, maybe some glitter in his happy highway which he deems “Santa’s Landing Strip”.

Christmas Morning Jammies: It’s the most tame part of his holler-day cheer, it’s whatever clean boxers and plain Tshirt he could find through his eggnogg induced coma from the night before. At least he does remember to get dressed, gotta make sure all the kids get their presents on time!

Hector

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: Reeeeeeally simple, white and blue lights with maybe a few sparkly ornaments but those are just things begging to be broken by the house pets. If he can get a real tree that’s prefered but he’s also very aware that Caesar won’t know the difference between a Christmas tree and his favorite outside tree.

Favorite Holiday Treat: Mulled Cider. He likes to be warm after all, and it has fewer embarrassing effects than mulled wine.

Holiday Lingerie Styles: He’s not a big fan of Christmas so don’t go expecting a “Santa” cock sock. He’s not keen on wearing christmas lingerie himself, but if you happened to wear the very short red slip that just so happened to appear on your nightstand you can expect to get your stocking thoroughly stuffed.

Christmas Morning Jammies: Just some soft pj pants, maybe with a festive print if he happens upon them in his drawers.

Isaac

Christmas Tree Decorating Style: Bold of you to assume this man has a Christmas tree. That said, if you put one up he’ll participate in decorating at your request; an ornament here, a bauble there. The tree doesn’t bring him happiness as much as seeing you enjoying it does.

Favorite Holiday Treat: His preference is less about the sugary things (though he’ll gladly take anything you make) but he has a softer spot for the warm meals. A freshly baked bread pudding with cinnamon and clove would be perfect for him.

Holiday Lingerie Styles: He’s not going to participate, period. But he does love to see his partner in red regardless of the time of year...

Christmas Morning Jammies: If you plop a Santa hat on his head, he’ll tolerate it for you. Otherwise, it’s the same pajamas he always wears, a black cotton set with grey dotted vertical stripes. It’s a button up and you are tempted to unwrap that present after you’re done with the ones under the tree...

~Mod Soviet & Mod Rose

#trevor belmont #Sypha Belnades #adrian tepes #Vlad Dracula Tepes #Lisa Tepes #Godbrand #Hector #isaac #holiday imagines #winter holidays #gender neutral reader #mod rose #mod soviet #imagines #Castlevania

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rebellconquerer · 3 years ago

Note

“It’s really not that complicated.”

For Sarah and Sam

Another prompt fill. Will be crossposted to AO3. And to the anon that sent in the request today, yes! My inbox is still and always open for more.

Sarah sighs to herself, digging even further into the bottom of her bag. She knows she has it somewhere. It lives in her handbag during the summer for just this reason.

“Hey mom, can we go into Crescent City Comic? Please?” AJ asks from somewhere along her right side.

She knows the damn fan is in there. Lipstick, chapstick, book, ah! She pulls her hand out and gives a frustrated huff. Old papers, still not the fan.

“Mom?”

“Huh? Um, yeah, sure. Don’t wander off from there though, you hear me? You either stay there or come right back,” she’s all but yelling at his retreating back as he runs the half block towards the store, holding his brother’s hand and dodging in between the crowd of people on the streets.

Sarah shakes her head smiling to herself as her hand finally, mercifully brushes against her fan. She lets out a small sound of success as she pulls it out of the bag, unhooks it and starts fanning herself. The gentle wind, even if it is as muggy as the rest of the mid morning heat, is a welcome reprieve. She turns back to the vendors lining the street, fanning herself slowly as she surveys the various bits of jewelry on display, in the market for a new set of earrings perhaps.

She’d all but dragged the lot of them out to the La Gente music and street festival in the Lower Garden this morning. Sam and Bucky had come back from their last trek to DC almost a day ago in a foul mood. She isn’t exactly sure what happened but from what she has gathered they had a mission go bad, monumentally so, and when they came back there had been insinuations that it was because Jame- Bucky was leaking information, like a double agent or whatever. Utterly ridiculous. Sam said Bucky responded very calmly to the allegation. Sam had not.

It had kind of surprised her that Bucky had come back with Sam in the first place. She’s gotten more used to him being around but it tends to be for a specific event or before they go out for work, not after. But even with her limited knowledge of him, just looking at him when they arrived Sarah could tell he was… upset. Something about the calmness and stillness he carried in his frame that was just… not right. Her brother had done the right thing bringing him home and she’s kinda glad Bucky had let himself be brought back to Louisiana.

She shakes her head, moving away from the stall, she should probably not have him on her mind as much as she does but… there is just something about him, something behind his eyes that tells you there is so much more going on than just what you see.

‘And there is a lot to see’ a voice that sounds suspiciously like her best friend’s whispers in the back of her head, so of course, that’s when she notices him across the street.

He’s standing by three ancient-looking old men and one very smitten looking teenager. Sarah laughs, she can’t blame the teen. James wears henleys very well and this dark grey one is no exception. Plus he has the buttons around the neck unbuttoned just enough so that you can see a glint of his dog tags when he moves… yeah, Sarah pities the poor girl.

Sarah very deliberately does not go to him (she’s an adult, she does not get crushes on her big brother’s friends anymore) and heads to the fruit stall next to where he’s standing. She catches a little snippet of the conversation before the band starts up and has to ignore the little flip her heart does because he’s speaking fluent Spanish to his old people group and the words sound mouth-watering on his tongue.

She shakes her head a little violently, returning her focus to picking out ripe fruits. She is not interested.

Guajira, I love you too much

“What you up to, sis?” Sam asks, out of nowhere. Only years of being a mother to tiny humans with quiet steps keep her from jumping.

“What does it look like, smart ass?” she replies, yelling just a bit to be heard over the band.

Sam frowns as he watches her pick out mangoes. “I don’t like mangoes,” he tells her like she doesn’t already know.

“These aren’t for you. AJ loves them, as does Cass. And I cook with them sometimes.” she says, picking out four and twirling the bag closed, the beat of the music is infectious as she begins to sway.

“Then why not get more?” Sam asks, poking at the nearest, clearly unripe mango. He’s such a child.

“They are almost 5 dollars for one. Too expensive.”

Sam scoffs. “Everything is negotiable.”

Sarah rolls her eyes. Her brother always thinks he knows best. This wasn’t a pop-up. She knew this stand. “Mr Gonzalez would negotiate, but his daughter, Benita, is a hard ass. I’ve never gotten her to sell anything for a cent less than advertised.” Sarah finishes pointing at the woman in question.

Oye Guajira, so nice to meet ya

Next time I see ya, we gon’ roll some reefer

Sam does a little salsa two-step and a spin, grabbing her bag of mangoes from her hand. “Let’s see shall we?” he says, plastering on a ridiculous smile and walking into the store.

Sarah huffs out a laugh crossing her arms as she watches Sam sidle up to Benita.

“Why does he look like he’s up to something?” Jam- Bucky asks from beside her. She doesn’t look over at him.

“That’s how he always looks, his face has been stuck like that since we were kids. I told him it would happen,” she mutters mostly to get a laugh out of James. It works, the sound sending a pleasant warmth rolling down her spine.

She risks a glance over at him, and with the smile on his face, it’s dangerous.

“You left your friends behind? Are they all actually your age?” she asks, gesturing to his little old people group still standing a ways behind them with her chin.

He glances over his shoulder at them. “Hey it’s not my fault no one in the younger age group seems to know anything about baseball,” he replies. “Gotta take good conversation where I can get it.”

“Oh it must be so hard for you, poor baby.” she teases.

His eyes meet hers with a small smirk “Easier when I’m with you.” he replies lightly.

Sarah’s grin widens as she tries not to let him get to her head.

“Quite the silver tongue James- sorry. I mean Bucky!” She corrects almost immediately, feeling her face heat up. God, she can’t even get his name right, she clearly shouldn’t be flirting with him.

But he only laughs.

“You always seem to prefer James,” he states with a hint of question in his tone.

She shrugs, the embarrassment still making her feel a little off-kilter. “It’s a nice name, but I know you prefer Bucky.”

His smile gets real. “No one’s really called me James outside of my family, and that was a long time ago,” he says, eyes going distant and unfocused for a minute before he looks back over at her. “But if you like James, you should call me that.”

She has never been more grateful for her dark complexion and inability to turn red as she is at this moment. “No- no I couldn’t. You prefer Bu-”

“It sounds good coming from you. I like it,” he says with finality, that life-altering, heart-stopping smirk back on his face and honestly what can she do but smile back at him?

Brother, it’s true, no doubt she’s flawless

Her love’s a drug, she was getting me yo

“I told you, I’d get it done. Does your big brother keep his promises or what?” Sam says, interrupting their gazing and their smiling.

She looks over to him, pushing the dazed smile off her face.

“4 mangoes for ten dollars, a permanent 10% off produce for the restaurant and-” Sam says, pulling a piece of paper out of his pocket with a flourish. “Her number.”

Sarah stares in astonishment. “How the hell did you do that, Sam?”

He shrugs, lips twitching as he fights the smile forcing its way onto his face. “It’s really not that complicated, Sarah. I am very good looking,” he says, finally giving in to that gap-toothed smile.

Both her and James groan dramatically, turning to walk away from him.

“Great, he’ll be insufferable now.” James whispers, ducking in close to her, his proximity dizzying.

She laughs as Sam overtakes them, salsa-ing ridiculously by himself as he walks in front of them and singing along with the band.

“Guajira, I love you too much”

#rebellwrites #bucky/sarah #bucky x sarah #fleur de louve #bucky barnes #sam wilson #barah #bucky x sarah fic

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thediamondgirl17 · 4 years ago

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Alpha!Goshiki x Omega!Reader: That Day In The Gym (SFW!)

So I have been on the biggest hunt for Goshiki fics, and this poor boy barely gets anything! I also am a big Omegaverse fan if you haven’t seen who I follow then you probably don’t know, but if you like omgeaverse too I recommend checking them out! and decided that he deserves some love! So this is actually like, my first time writing an Omegaverse fic so, I hope it turns out good! Leave a comment for some feedback! I love hearing from readers! If you end up liking this and want a second part, feel free to tell me! I would love to write a part 2 to this! Here is Part 2!

Warnings: None, maybe some strong language, that’s about it.

Honestly, it had been a fairly rough day for you. Being a first year at Shiratorizawa was much more difficult than you had thought it would be. Of course a prestigious, rich kid school like this would be difficult to attend, but that was precisely the reason that you had decided to come. Of course there were those people who got into the school just because of their athletic ability, but you were not one of those people. Omega’s typically weren’t that athletic, it just didn’t exactly run in their genes, however it wasn’t completely uncommon for an Omega to end up on a team or doing something active, nor was it uncommon for a team to be fully comprised of Alphas. So how did a little Omega such as yourself get into a prestigious school with mostly Alphas and Betas? Studying.

You had spent so much time studying in the school, and your grades definitely reflected it. You weren’t the top student in the class, but you sure as hell were not at the bottom. And with that being said, you weren’t the only Omega there either. The school would release statistics to the public each year to show what the dynamic was like at the school, and currently in your year the school comprised of 25% Omegas, 35% Betas, and 60% Alphas. Not to mention the rate of Omegas attending the school has continuously risen at least 5% every 4 years, which was great for the schools reputation and also for Omegas wanting to make a life for themselves without immediately finding a mate, and if they did...well then good for them! However, Omegas still faced a fair amount of discrimination and intimidation at the school, but what else was there to expect?

So why had your day been so rough? Well first of all, your teachers had all decided to give you a test on the same day, which completely mentally exhausted you. And the school had announced that Omegas needed to find an extra curricular activity (which most people did anyways) in order to look good on college resumes. But why exactly did Shiratorizawa care if Omegas got into good colleges? Because it made them look good. So here you were, standing in front of the board with all the different clubs listed on them as you hummed. Your eyes trailed along the colorful pieces of paper to try to find something that you wanted to do. Most of these clubs were athletic ones, and you were definitely not an athletic Omega.

“(Y/N)-chan!” Your friend called from down the hallway, they were also an Omega that you had met while attending Shiratorizawa. “Remember how we had to use the other gym today because the main one was being used for repairs?” They questioned. You nodded in response with your eyes slightly furrowed as you tried to ponder why they were reminding you of today. “Well, I was in the girls locker room, and noticed that your bag wasn’t in there! I think you left it in the second gym!” They said not exactly panicked but a bit urgently.

“Okay,” You paused and replied. “So what’s the big deal? I can just pop in and grab it.” You said calmly and as a matter of fact.

“Did you forget that the second gym is used for the boys volleyball team...which is comprised of like...all Alphas and Betas and one Omega!” They said quickly. “That’s scary!”

“I’m sure it’s not awful, Even if they do get upset then I can just explain to them what happened, grab my things and go!”

“Yeah, but their coach (Y/n)! The one with the grey hair! He’s super scary! And he doesn’t exactly like Omegas in the gym while they’re practicing.” They sighed trying to get you to understand, However you just shook your head and offered them a small smile.

“I’m sure I’ll be fine.”

So now here you were, standing outside the doors to the boys volleyball team’s gym. But why hadn’t you opened the door? That’s a great question. You just thought you could pop in and out without them noticing to much and be on your way home at this point, but things don’t always go according to plan. You had greatly underestimated how strong some of the scents from the Alphas were, and even the one Omega on the team had a strong scent, to the point where you could smell it through the door. Of course they had also been sweating and moving and most likely competition, so it was normal for them to smell this strong. However you hadn’t even remembered that the Apex Alpha of Shiratorizawa was in that room as well. Ushijima was a very scary person to Alphas and Betas, let alone a small Omega like yourself. But at some point you would have to get your bag out of the gym and you had decided that sooner was better than later.

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When the boys volleyball team for Shiratroizawa entered the gym, they definitely did not expect to see someone’s gym bag laying off to the side of their gym. Let alone one that reeked of an Omega. Most of the team brushed it off not really caring, but coach Washijo was furious. The older Beta yelling about how the main gym was fine and that nobody should have been allowed to step food on their court except for them, yadda, yadda, yadda. But not one of them expected the same Omega that had the balls to leave their items in their gym, to actually walk in during their practice and get it. Which, unfortunately was exactly what you were doing now.

The moment the door creaked open the tiniest bit, all eyes were on you, and your whole body stiffened up. Your scent quickly changed from normal to nervous as you stood in the doorway of the gym. You slipped out of your outside shoes, put on your gym shoes, and stepped on the court, not making eye contact with anyone at all.

‘Don’t look at them. Don’t make eye contact.’ Your inner Omega cried out. And you happily obliged, You quickly hurried over to your bag and grabbed it. But the moment you turned around, you came face to face with none other than the Apex Alpha of Shiratorizawa himself, and once you made eye contact with him, you chirped nervously. Every Alpha in the room had turned to look at you once you made the small noise, and it had even caught the attention of the purpled haired first year whose sworn competitor was intimidating a poor little Omega.

The moment Goshiki had walked into the gym, his eyes had landed on you. He caught your scent in the hallways every now and again, but whenever he would he would turn to try and find out who it was, only for it to be swept away in the scent of other Alphas. Of course he had found out who you were after months of being in the school, but was never able to find the time to talk to you and get to know you. The purple haired Alpha loved your scent, and wanted to know more about you so he could decide if you were a good contender for a mate, or even just a date. However, when he heard the chirp you had emitted upon seeing the Apex Alpha, something in him quickly snapped.

‘Stop him.’ His inner Alpha said. Not even a second passed before he had found himself standing between you and the captain of the team.

“What are you doing?” Goshiki questioned his captain.

“I was going to ask her why she disrupted our practice.” Ushijima stated simply. That was his personality after all. Short and sweet, or short and bitter.

“You know damn well why she came in. She came to get her bag, She didn’t disrupt anything, you just go distracted by an Omega’s scent.” Goshiki shot at him. And now the team was invested with what was going on with the current nd future Ace of Shiratorizawa.

“I was going to scold her, and tell her to not forget her items anymore.” Ushijima said, but his voice had a tad bit of annoyance in it.

“You are scaring her! Didn’t you hear her chirp? And that didn’t give you a single idea that you were making her uncomfortable?” He shot back. His confidence didn’t waver as he stood in front of you. Something his teammates had never seen.

“...I-I’m sorry...,” You said meekly behind Goshiki. “...I-It was m-my fault...I-I won’t do it again...,” Your voice was quiet and soft and obediently polite to the tense Alphas in front of you. You turned to leave but felt a soft hand on your wrist. You turned and looked up at the purple haired first year.

“You have nothing to be sorry about,” He stated softly. “Trust me you did nothing wrong.” His voice was soft and smooth and sounded like honey. He smelled nice too, it was like this warm lavender scent with a sweet undertone to it. It calmed you down, physically making your shoulders relax.

“Th-thank you...,” You said bowing your head a bit before pulling your arm out of his hand and heading out of the gym. There was silence in the gym before anyone spoke.

“Awe! Goshiki! Did you find yourself a little girlfriend?~” The red haired Omega cooed from behind him. Suddenly the purple haired boys cheek’s turned a pink color.

“N-No she just-,” He paused. “I-I just-” He paused again. “Sh-she’s just-,”

“Oh yeah...You’ve got it baaaaaaaad~,” Tendou cooed.

“Wh-whatever...,” He said softly.

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A full day had passed since that day in the gym. You were headed off to your final class of the day when you bumped into someone. You were carrying books and papers, and were daydreaming as you walked, therefore finding yourself bump into someone. You yelped and felt yourself fall backwards, but a hand reached out and grabbed your arm before you could fall, holding you in a strong grip to keep you from falling. You looked up at him, and if it wasn’t his face that let you knew who he was, it was the smell of warm lavender with a sweet undertone that did.

“I-I’m sorry...,” You said softly as he stood you up.

“I-it’s no problem...,” He admitted and looked around at the mess on the floor of your papers. Almost instantly you both fell to the floor to pick up the pages. His hand brushed against your own as you grabbed a paper, and both of your cheeks heated up at the contact.

“Thank you...,” Your voice was quiet. “F-for yesterday too!” You quickly added in hopes to try to make the situation less tense, because for whatever reason your inner Omega felt nervous about him. If it was a good or bad thing, you didn’t know.

“O-Oh that? That was nothing...,” He said in an equally soft voice as he stood up straight. “U-Ushijima-senpai can be a bit...,” He trailed off.

“Oblivious?” You asked with a small head tilt.

“Y-yeah! That’s the word I was looking for!” He said quickly. There was silence between the both of you for a few moments. “O-Oh! I almost forgot!” Goshiki said and reached into his bag, he pulled out a slip of paper and handed it to you. On it was some writing, ‘Wanted, an Omega manager for the boys volleyball team,’ With some informative text under it. “I-I think y-you sh-should try this....Y-you don’t have a c-club right?” He asked.

“No...I was looking for one though...,” You admitted with a dust of pink on your cheeks. “D-Doesn’t your coach not like Omegas though?” You asked looking up at the purple haired boy.

“No...He doesn’t at all...That’s why Tendou is the only Omega on the team...,” He gently rubbed the back of his neck. “But the schools administration got a little upset at him for that and told him he needed to be more inclusive...,”

“That makes sense...,” You giggled a bit. Your smile and light giggle practically made the boy in front of you melt. Your scent wasn’t really nervous around him anymore, it was warmer and sweeter than usual. “...I’ll look into it...,” You said softly and tucked the paper into your bag. You bit your lower lip and looked off to the side. Only until a moment later did the bell ring, you tensed up a bit. “I-I should get going t-to class...,” You said softly.

“O-of course! I-I should as well!” He said stiffly and started on his way to class. You smiled to yourself and walked down the hallway. Once he was out of sight and you were settled in you classroom, you took out the flyer.

You held it in your hands and looked down at it. However, something was a bit off. You leaned down and lifted the paper to your nose to meet about half way and took a small sniff. ‘He scented it...’ You thought to yourself as warmth crawled up onto your cheeks.

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

“Wow...You really are bad at this...,” Shirabu said as he walked down the hallway next to the purple haired boy. “You’re supposed to scent gifts like jewelry, food, something home made. Not invitations to be our club manager.” He spoke in his monotone voice.

“W-well whatever...She seemed interested!” Goshiki shot back. “A-and besides-!” He paused for dramatic effect. “Once she sees how I’m clearly going to surpass Ushijima as the next Ace, she will be begging to be my mate!” He said proudly with a slight blush on his cheeks.

“Oh yeah ‘future Ace?’ You still need a lot of practice before that day comes...,”

“Why are you like that?” He whined and his hair deflated a bit.

“Just being honest...,”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x y/n #shiratorizawa #goshiki #goshiki x reader #omegaverse #alphagoshiki #omegareader #anime

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witcherslittledove · 3 years ago

Text

Home is Where the Heart Is

A Joey/Henry lockdown fic - AO3

Rated: T

Words: 7k ish

CW: RPF, covid, far too much pining?

_______

“I’m sorry, Joey,” Madeleine sighed again, pressing her head into the crook of Joey’s neck, her hair tickling his cheek.

It was pulled back into a messy bun, flyaway strands surrounding her face in a halo, and as the sun shone from behind her, she looked like some kind of angel. Joey wondered, not for the first time, how he’d even been so lucky to have Madeleine as a friend. She truly was a wonder, his favourite person and light of his life. Everyone should have a friend like Madeleine Hyland.

He laughed and pressed a kiss to her temple as he pulled back from her embrace. “Nah, it’s alright, Madeleine. Your parents need you, much more important than little old me.”

“Oh fuck that, you bastard, stop fishing for compliments,” she laughed, swatting him on the arm.

“Aww,” he pouted, “Oi!”

She’d hit his arm again, barely a tap but he pretended it hurt, rubbing his arm and pouting even harder at his friend.

“Come off it, Joey. You’re staying with Henry for the rest of lockdown, that’s hardly a trial,” she teased, poking him in the chest.

Ah yes.

Henry.

The bane of Joey’s existence, mostly because of the fucking ginormous crush he had on his co-star. He hadn’t known Henry had been signed on for Geralt until his audition, really he hadn’t known much at all, just that he’d be auditioning for a bard and that he should probably take his lute to the audition. A spur of the moment decision that had turned his life upside down. He’d gone from a nobody to... well, not exactly famous but people had started to recognise him, much to his despair.

And then there was Henry.

He’d been admiring Henry from a distance for a few years now, watching him in the Tudors had sort of been Joey’s bisexual awakening, and then he’d suddenly been thrust into the most bizarre experience of having to work fairly closely with the man.

Joey would never forget the feeling of Henry throwing him over his shoulder as if he wasn’t almost the same size as Henry.

Fuck, that had been hot.

And now, Joey had to cohabit with said crush for an indeterminate amount of time, preferably without making a fool of himself.

He was doomed.

Of course, he could have said no when Henry had offered his place when Joey was grumbling about being alone during lockdown after Madeleine's parents got sick, but no… Henry had stared at him with such shining hope in his eyes that Joey never stood a chance.

Joey just needed to keep reminding himself that Henry was straight. He was practically the poster boy for heteronormative; classically gorgeous, action star, gymrat, lover of sports and building fucking computers.

Okay, maybe Joey was generalising a tad, but it was a form of self-defence.

Christ, the mere thought that Henry could be interested in men… interested in him.

It was too much.

So here he was, saying goodbye to his best friend whilst waiting for his biggest crush to pick him up. Madeleine bundled into her car with the last of her bags, and Joey was left waiting on the pavement. In all honesty, he would have preferred to drive to Henry’s place himself or at least get the tube, something where he felt like he was actively doing something. The waiting was killing him, making his thoughts run out of control. Maybe he shouldn’t have packed his guitar. He could have at least been tuning it, or plucking out some meaningless melody, anything to keep his hands busy and his mind distracted.

When the black car pulled up, Joey let out a sigh of relief before realising that it was very much frying pan, fire. Luckily, before he could really start to panic, the back door opened and Joey was almost bowled off his feet by a large bundle of fur that Henry claimed was a dog and not, in fact, a bear.

“Kal!” Joey greeted warmly, burying his fingers into Kal’s neverending fur, and letting the dog lick all over his face.

“He’s missed you,” Henry called in lieu of a greeting.

He was wearing a grey henley that looked like it was two sizes too small and his dark blue jeans seemed to strain against his quads. Henry’s arms were crossed in front of his chest and he looked down at Joey with a blinding Hollywood smile that made Joey’s heart flutter. Dark curls seemed to have finally recovered from the weeks stuck under Geralt’s wig and they fell in front of his so very blue eyes.

He was bloody gorgeous, and it wasn’t fucking fair.

So Joey did the only logical thing, and started to coo at Kal instead. “I’ve missed him too,” he trilled happily into the dog’s fur, scratching Kal behind his ears. “Such a good boy! The bestest, cutest doggo.”

“He’s not the only one who’s missed you, you know,” Henry groused, although when Joey looked up, he was still smiling so Joey didn’t feel too bad for paying far more attention to Kal than the gorgeous specimen of a man that is Henry Cavill.

“Aww, you sap,” he chuckled. “Well, I still haven’t forgiven you for those cruel and terrible words you cursed me with the last time we met.”

It wasn’t the last time they’d met. They’d had a few scenes after the argument in episode six. Scheduling had meant that it wasn’t filmed entirely in order, and then there had been reshoots and post-production parties, premieres and the table reads for season two, but it was a sort of in-joke. Joey liked to tease Henry about the argument, they’d both lurked enough online to know that ‘the mountain’ was a big fucking deal to the fans of their characters.

Henry rolled his eyes and opened his arms out for a hug which Joey eagerly returned, inhaling the soft musky cologne that Henry wore and enjoying the strongs arms that wrapped around him. He loved hugs, but most of Joey’s male friends would do that god awful hug and pat thing, then pull away too soon. Henry had never been like that and it was delightful, even if it really didn’t help the not so little crush that Joey had on the man.

It was cliche but it really did feel like coming home.

Fuck.

He was utterly screwed… and not even in the fun way.

The drive to Henry’s place was quiet, Joey spent most of the time watching the streets of London roll past as they weaved through bendy roads that webbed across the city. The traffic was weirdly non-existent, a side effect of a global pandemic, and he couldn’t help but be reminded of the ghost towns from films and books.

It was truly haunting, spooky in just the right way. Horror and the Wild had very much had woodland magic vibes, but driving through the dead streets of London, Joey wondered what happened to the fae when a city sprung up near their home. Did they adapt like the wildlife did? Urban spirits that lurked in the shadows, in the alleys, behind the bins and cobbled streets at the back of theatres.

Most theatres were supposed to be haunted, Joey had always wondered just who the spirits were that glided through the aisles when the shows went dark.

Henry didn’t feel the need to fill the silence which Joey was grateful for. On set, with Jaskier on his fingertips, Joey was happy to joke about and laugh and banter, but he was nervous about the move to Henry’s and the silence gave him time to get lost in his own imagination, a reality that wasn’t quite the one they knew.

He was almost disappointed when the car pulled to a stop in front of a rather grand house. It was part of a terrace but that was unsurprising, most places in London were, but it was much nicer than the shitty little flat that Joey shared with Madeleine.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.

They were poles apart. Even being friends was unrealistic. How the hell was Joey supposed to even pretend they were in the same league? It was fine. Everything was going to be fine. Joey just had to be a perfect house guest, no clumsy mistakes, no setting fire to any ovens, and no slipping in the shower and messing up his ankle.

He’d just have to spend all his time with Kal lest Henry find out just how much of a walking disaster he could be.

Henry had only offered because he was a caregiver, selfless and kind in everything he did. He would have done the same to anyone else if they’d mentioned spending lockdown alone. Joey was just the lucky one.

Or unlucky.

He hadn’t quite decided yet.

Yes, he would just have to spend his days with Kal and his guitar, stay out of Henry’s way and then everything would be fine.

Right?

___

Joey’s plan went according to plan for almost an entire week. He mostly kept to his room and occasionally the living room. Henry wanted to show Joey some films he liked and it would have been rude to say no, so Joey curled up with Kal on the floor to keep some space between them. That way he wouldn’t be tempted to snuggle up against Henry’s chest the same way he did with Madeleine, only it wouldn’t be the same because Madeleine was his best friend and Henry was… well… Henry.

It was such a mess.

And he was probably being an arse.

They’d gotten along so well on set in between takes, but now, without Jaskier there as a crutch, Joey’s anxiety was getting the better of him, and all because of a stupid crush. This would all be a lot easier if Joey were straight; no awkward crushes, no pining for a man he couldn’t have, no… whatever this was?

He could flirt and tease and banter just like he would with any of his friends because it was harmless.

If only.

No.

He had to do better. The reason Henry had invited him to stay was so neither of them would be alone, and despite all his cuddles with Kal, Joey was really starting to feel touch starved. He’d never gone so long without human touch.

The problem was that Henry was just so fucking sweet. He was so bloody understanding that it made Joey just yearn even harder. There was never any pressure to hang out, just gentle suggestions, and the most amazing home-cooked meals that Henry said could be heated up another time if Joey wasn’t hungry. The wine Henry picked out to go with the meal was heavenly, and fuck, the man could cook.

He felt like he was being seduced; wooed with the most gorgeous culinary delights that were truly to die for.

What was a poor bisexual to do?

So every evening Joey would sit across from Henry at the table, trying to joke and laugh just as they had before, but even to his own ears it felt flat. Madeleine’s voice in his head reminded him that that was probably his anxiety speaking but, of course, he ignored it. They ate their food and then Joey would either retreat to his room with his beloved guitar or Henry would suggest a film.

Until Henry decided enough was enough.

Joey was lured from his room with the sweet delicious smell of pizza, and when he came down the stairs he found Henry already on the couch, two boxes of pizza and a couple of beers already opened and ready to go.

There was no sitting on the floor, not with pizza and a Kal. Joey wouldn’t get to taste the greasy wonders of his takeaway if he sat on the floor, and the pizza box was already being guarded by Henry on the couch.

He had to break his rule.

Fuck.

“Kitchen table not good enough?” he teased with a quirk of his lips.

Henry scoffed. “Who eats pizza at the table?”

It was a fair point and sighed, resigning himself to an evening pressed up against his friend when his cuddle instincts got too much. Maybe it wouldn’t be a bad thing, maybe it would help get him out of his head and into the moment… maybe he should just let Jaskier out of the box and pretend that all was fine?

No.

He could do this. Just… be himself?

“Before I open this box, there is one very important question I have to ask,” he said far too seriously, barely able to hide a smile as he scooped the pizza box into his lap and sat down next to Henry, keeping a safe distance between them.

“There’s no pineapple.”

“Oh thank fuck for that,” Joey laughed and opened the box. It was a standard pepperoni pizza, not his go to, but it was a safe option and one that was always yummy regardless of the restaurant. “Garlic dip?” he asked with a cock of his head.

“Damn, I hoped you wouldn’t like it,” Henry grumbled and pulled a small green topped tub from inside his own box.

“You!” Joey said in mock outrage, “keeping the beloved dip from me. It’s like the mountain all over again.”

“It’s not like the mountain,” Henry grumbled. “I didn’t make the script, you can’t keep blaming me for that.”

Joey’s heart sank as he wondered if he’d taken the joke too far, but when he met Henry’s gaze he saw the man was smiling despite his grousing. “I can,” he insisted.

“Hmm,” Henry replied in his most Geralt-y voice.

And with an internal sigh of relief, everything seemed to be okay. Yes, Joey was pulling some of his energy from his beloved character, but so was Henry, and it seemed to smooth out the edges of his anxiety. The beer helped and everything seemed a lot more relaxed with the takeaway pizza and the film already starting to play on the TV.

“I’m sorry,” Henry whispered after the pizza was finished and the credits had started to roll.

Joey’s head was resting on his friend’s shoulder but he’d managed to keep himself from koala hugging… so far. The vulnerability caught his attention though, and he sat up wearily to peer at Henry.

“For what?”

“I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable by inviting you here.”

Joey wanted to swear, to stomp around the room and tear the place upside down. He’d fucked up. He knew he’d fucked up, his damn anxiety keeping him from being the person he wanted to be, the person he knew he could be if his head just shut up! He didn’t do any of that though. Instead, he slumped back down to lean against Henry and took a deep breath.

“You didn’t make me uncomfortable.”

“I didn’t?”

“No. I’m just- it’s hard for me, being somewhere new,” not a lie, not entirely the truth, “and I didn’t want to encroach on your space. This is your home, and I- umm- I didn’t want to get in the way.”

Henry laughed, running a hand through his hair, pushing the curls back off his face, and Joey was entranced for a moment, wanting to reach out and feel the soft hair between his fingers for himself. It was a miracle that he managed to keep his hands in his own lap.

“Joey, this is our home, for now at least,” Henry said with such conviction and warmth that Joey made a sort of strangled noise in the back of his throat.

“Our home?”

“We have no idea how long this nightmare is going to last. It could be months, Joey. I want you to feel like you can relax here,” Henry insisted, wrapping his arm around Joey’s shoulder and pulling him into a sideways hug.

“Right- yeah, no, I know,” Joey mumbled, trying and failing not to blush.

Now that Henry wasn’t really having to watch what he ate and stay dehydrated for dear old Geralt, he was big.

And Joey was weak.

It was like all his wet dreams were becoming a reality, one by one.

He was just monkey-braining over the fact that Henry was one big, large, strong man that wanted to take care of him. It was pathetic. Joey wasn’t exactly small himself, and he could, should the role require it, hold up pretty well in a sword fight with Henry and not look entirely ridiculous.

“And I know Kal is very cute,” Henry teased, nodding to the dog who was sprawled on the carpet in front of them, “but if you ever need a hug, he’s not your only option.”

Joey definitely didn’t squeak this time. Instead, he finally let himself snuggle up to Henry the way he’d been wanting to all evening, every evening since he’d arrived. “Like this?” he teased.

Henry chuckled, and just squeezed his arms tighter around Joey, “Exactly.”

“I’m sorry,” Joey mumbled. “I was being an arse.”

“No, it’s not your fault.”

Joey scoffed.

“I should have been clearer on day one,” Henry sighed, “although seeing as you live here now, maybe you should cook?”

Joey laughed nervously, burying his face into Henry’s jumper. “Neither of us want that,” he muttered. “Trust me.”

“I’ll help?” Henry suggested, which of course brought forth a dozen images of cooking together, dancing in the kitchen to whatever songs fell past Joey’s lips, lazy early morning kisses as they waited for the coffee.

He swallowed, blinking away the fantasies. “How about you cook, and I’ll help?”

“Lazy,” Henry said with a chuckle but just pulled Joey closer.

“Only trying to keep you safe, darling.”

Darling.

Fuck.

“I mean, Henry, sorry, slip of the tongue. I mean- fuck. I call Madeleine darling all the time?”

“Joey, it's okay,” Henry reassured him.

“Okay.”

With a sigh, Joey untangled himself from Henry’s arms and gathered up the pizza boxes and empty beer cans. Booping Kal on the nose as he went past, he busied himself with clearing up. It wasn’t much and didn’t take long, so sooner than he would have liked he poked his head back around the door.

Henry was sitting on the floor, rough-housing Kal, chuckling as the dog kept licking at his face. The sight made Joey smile softly, and he almost didn’t want to leave, but he was getting tired and he really didn’t want to slip up again. He couldn’t blame every mistake on Madeleine. It wouldn’t be fair to her.

“I’m going to bed,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his hair. “See you tomorrow, Henry.”

_______

After that, things started to get easier. Joey would flop down onto the sofa next to Henry in the evenings regardless of what they were doing. Sometimes he’d lie with his head in Henry’s lap whilst they both read a book, other times he’d pluck at his guitar and laugh over stupid limericks that he could make up about his co-star. True to his word, Henry made Joey start helping with mealtimes, although he soon regretted that decision but refused to back down. The food still tasted good but the presentation was lacking. They spent an afternoon trying to bake bread together… Joey’s did not turn out so well and Henry’s attempt was thankfully less than perfect but still edible. The little flaws made Joey feel a little less inferior, and made Henry seem all the more human.

Kal still got a lot of Joey’s attention. How could he not? He was just so fluffy and adorable, plus Joey loved the little pout that Henry did whenever Kal got more hugs than he did. Joey could pretend that his friend was jealous, and that just helped him sleep a little easier at night.

Cuddling on the couch had become their usual routine, and it settled something deep inside of Joey that had been becoming restless. Mornings were spent watching Henry workout. Joey joined in occasionally but usually he would just cheer Henry on from the sidelines sipping his cup of tea. It was a sight to behold, and Joey thanked the lord that the gyms were currently closed otherwise he would never have been allowed to enjoy the view.

Henry’s arse was truly spectacular.

Despite his morning workouts, Henry had definitely gained a rather lovely layer of fat over his previously tightly toned muscles. He looked stronger. He looked cuddlier. Joey’s crush was only getting worse by the day, wanting to run his hands over the broad muscles of Henry’s back, thighs, arms… wherever he was allowed, but he just settled for the cuddling each day.

Joey tried not to think about the fat building over his own stomach and filling out his cheeks, barely noticeable unless you’d had a lifetime of his mother breathing down his neck about his weight. He was cuddlier too, that’s what he told himself whenever the familiar buzz of anxiety started to build up.

And anyway, Henry didn’t seem to mind.

Kal certainly didn’t. The beast of a dog had started to share the sofa with them in the evenings, squishing between them for maximum cuddle potential until eventually he got bored and retreated back to the floor.

It was really starting to feel like home. There were signs of Joey around the house, sheet music left on the TV cabinet, a set of spare lute strings in the kitchen, the bastard instrument tucked away in the corner of the living room until Joey could bring himself to pick it up. Two sets of keys now hung up by the front door so they could both take turns walking Kal without having to worry about getting locked out if the other was busy. A fluffy worn blanket was now strewn over the big armchair where Joey liked to sit during the day. Even the fridge now stocked Joey’s favourite rosé wine.

All in all, Joey wasn’t hating lockdown. It was frustrating but he enjoyed being inside anyway, and well, the company was pretty great.

The two of them were curled up on the sofa watching the Great British Bake Off on netflix, gin and tonics flowing a little too freely, and Joey felt like he was on top of the world. He had the best cuddler in all of England, nay, the world, a big fluffy puppy to boot and some bloody brilliant booze in hand.

The best thing was that Henry’s hoody had shifted up at some point during the evening, and Joey couldn’t take his eyes off the soft but defined muscles that were often hidden under Henry’s clothes. The dark hair that dipped beneath the exposed band of Henry’s boxers was tantalizing, and Joey longed to reach out and touch…

Only he was drunk enough that his inside thoughts had his hand moving before he could realise, landing on Henry’s stomach.

He froze and stared up at his friend with wide eyes.

“Oops,” he slurred.

“That’s my stomach,” Henry pointed out.

And still Joey didn’t remove his hand, relishing the bare skin beneath his fingertips, but he knew he needed an excuse, so he did the only logical thing and launched his attack. Henry was stronger than him, but Joey had the element of surprise as he tickled his friend, fingers dancing across the exposed skin as Henry desperately tried to shove Joey away. They were both laughing, too busy pushing and pulling at each other, that neither of them quite registered that at some point in the tussle, Joey had straddled Henry’s waist in an attempt to keep him pinned down.

Until suddenly their lips were barely a breath apart.

Oh.

“Hi,” Joey mumbled, smiling coyly down at Henry, the longer strands of his fringe falling into his eyes.

“Hi.”

It wouldn’t take much to lean down and kiss him, maybe Henry would even reach up first. There was no denying the sudden pull between them, and god, Joey wanted it. He’d wanted it for so long now.

So close.

The warmth of Henry’s breath brushing against his lips.

Eyes closed.

Hearts racing.

A soft whisper of a moan.

And then a bark rang out in the room, startling Joey and shattering the moment. He cursed as he fell to the floor, the world spinning from the gin and giddy burst of adrenaline. Kal jumped up into Henry’s lap, barking and whining excitedly at his owner, checking that he was okay following Joey’s tyrannical tickle attack.

Joey felt like an ice bucket had been dumped over his head, feeling far too sober, far too fast.

He’d almost kissed Henry.

Fuck!

“Right,” he slurred as he pushed his hands back through his hair- too long, needed a haircut. “Bedtime, sleep. Yup.”

“Joey?”

“See you in the morning?” he mumbled, although glancing at the clock, he wondered if that was a little optimistic. “Tomorrow,” he amended.

“Tomorrow,” Henry agreed, looking a little disappointed.

Joey refused to think about it. He wouldn’t start to hope. It would hurt too much if this all went wrong.

______

They didn’t talk about it.

Or rather, Joey, didn’t talk about it.

Henry tried to bring it up the next morning but Joey just laughed it off before his heart could get torn to pieces. He didn’t need confirmation that his crush was a no go. He already knew, but he really didn’t need to hear the words. Not to mention his hangover was an utter bitch and all he wanted to do was crawl back into bed and feel sorry for himself, which is exactly what he did.

After a few days, or was it weeks, months, years? Time seemed to stop existing, all Joey knew was his clothes seemed to be tighter than before and he was in desperate need of a haircut, but after a lockdown-eque period of time, all was forgotten. They fell back into their usual routine, and Joey’s crush continued to simmer just below the surface, unnoticed by Henry.

He’d started to facetime Madeleine most evenings just before bed now that the novelty of living with a bloody filmstar had worn off. He missed her terribly and she seemed to be going crazy at her parent’s house. There was a twinge of guilt stabbing in his chest when he realised he’d all but forgotten about her the first few weeks of lockdown, but it was nice to catch up with her again.

Henry was brilliant, but he was no Madeleine Hyland. He wasn’t Joey’s best friend.

And sometimes Joey just needed to vent about Henry’s stranger habits. Like seriously, why wass there that weird sponsored water just stationed around the house? And what was with the weirdly staged selfies on instagram. It made Joey feel a whole lot better about his own lack of media presence. He’d rather be a mystery online than this boomer energy than Henry had going on.

Venting to Madeleine helped too, he got less frustrated about the shit hole that was life during a pandemic. A little less angry, a little less depressed, and a little less pathetic with his pining over Henry, although Madeleine would probably disagree.

She was probably right.

The sudden cold turn in the weather hadn’t helped. It wasn’t too bad but Joey had mostly brought summer clothes with him because he honestly hadn’t thought he’d be staying more than a couple of weeks. Thankfully he’d thrown in a couple of onesies for comfort reasons so he spent most his days dressed like a tiger and hoping that Henry would find it endearing. The best part was his onesies were a bit looser and fit him more comfortably than his normal clothes. A lockdown diet was brilliant, but not exactly what he’d had in mind when he’d gone shopping all those years ago.

What he hadn’t expected, was for Henry to rock up to dinner wearing the stupid bunny onesie that Joey had left in his room.

“There,” Henry greeted him with a broad smile, “Now we match.”

It wasn’t fair. Joey wanted to kiss him so badly. The white onesie was a little short on Henry, pulling up just above his ankles, and it still managed to stretch at his shoulders, but it was so fucking adorable and Joey could pin point the exact moment his crush tumbled over the edge into love.

It was the crinkles at the corner of Henry’s eyes as he smiled, the slight tilt of his head, the sparkle in his ocean blue eyes.

Except they weren’t just blue. No, there were specks of golden brown in one eye, that were just captivating. Joey felt like he could so easily get lost in Henry. Every time he looked at the man he found something new and exciting.

“Darling, you look adorable!” he cooed, before he could get too distracted by the fluttering of his own heart. “Very cuddly.”

Henry chuckled and opened his arms wide, allowing Joey to barrel into them. “That was the idea.”

“So, what’s for dinner?” he asked, hoping that Henry would have forgotten that-

“It’s your turn to cook.”

“Bugger,” Joey whined. “Cheesy pasta?”

“You made that last time,” Henry teased.

“I’m very good at carbonara!” Joey countered.

“Melted cheese on pasta isn’t carbonara.”

Joey scoffed. “Eh, close enough.”

“Fine, make your cheesy pasta.”

“Carbonara,” Joey said with a wink. “I’ll add bacon this time.”

The pasta was overcooked and the bacon was a little chewy, but it was dinner, and afterwards Henry made them both extravagant hot chocolates made from actual chocolate rather than powder shit that Joey used. It was covered in whipped cream and marshmallows and had a healthy amount of Baileys to top it off. They curled up on their usual spot on the sofa, buried under blankets and held the warm mugs close to their chests.

If it had been snowing, then Joey would have thought he’d walked into a Christmas film, all it needed was a fireplace and some fairy lights. It was cosy and warm, and a little bit romantic, or it would be if Henry was interested in men and Joey was his type.

No, he couldn’t think like that.

They were friends, good friends, good friends that liked to cuddle and almost kiss if the dog hadn’t interrupted.

It was fine.

Everything was fine.

He took a long gulp of his hot chocolate to stave off his anxiety, not noticing when his nose dived straight into the whipped cream until he looked up to find Henry staring at him with a fond expression. Warmth flooded through Joey’s chest as he returned the smile, feeling high on love and sugar.

“Hi,” he breathed, sounding as love sick as he felt.

Henry’s smile brightened, filling the whole room with light and Joey could have sworn he could hear the swell of violins in the soundtrack of his life.

“Hi,” Henry replied easily as if he hadn’t stolen Joey’s breath, heart and soul. “You- umm, cream, here!”

Henry tapped his own nose.

“Oh cock!” Joey hurried to wipe his nose, almost spilling his hot chocolate in the process, “Fuck! Bugger, shit balls!”

Henry, the bastard, just laughed, his arms reaching out to steady the mug and stop Joey from falling to the ground. “I think you made it worse.”

Joey snorted “I got that, yup, thanks.”

This time he could feel the sticky sweet cream clinging to his cheek, the subtle taste of vanilla on his lips. He pouted up at Henry, gazing through his eyelashes in a way that he hoped could be played off as friendly, but also maybe a little bit seductive. His tongue flicked out to lick his lips and he barely resisted the urge to wink.

Maybe there had been more Bailey’s in his drink than he realised.

Instead, he just wiped his face and snuggled back up to Henry, pulling the blanket up to his chin. They settled on watching Always Sunny, so Joey didn’t really have to concentrate. He let the tension drain from his body as he listened to the familiar TV show and then closed his eyes. Warm, happy and wrapped up in the arms of the man he loved-

Joey fell asleep.

He didn’t notice the way Henry was staring down at him as if he hung the fucking moon and stars, or the inner turmoil his friend was plague with as Henry resisted leaning down to kiss Joey in his sleep.

No, Joey was blissfully ignorant, sleeping better than he had in weeks.

________

The rest of lockdown went by in a blur. Their routine started to seem normal and any doubts Joey had about spending so much time with Henry faded away. They bantered easily like they had on set, laughing and giggling over whatever stupid thing one of them had said. Henry would spend hours playing his video games whilst Joey zoomed Madeleine to work on their new album together. When the regulations relaxed they started to walk Kal together, enjoying the quiet summer days and fresh air. The cuddling never really stopped, and some mornings Joey would wake up still curled up against Henry’s chest, their limbs tangled from the night before.

Those were Joey’s favourite mornings. He’d be stiff all day from sleeping on the couch but he could pretend, for just a few moments, that things were more than they were.

The pining never went away but it was truly the sweetest torture that he’d ever had to endure. The domestic bliss being barely a step away from everything he craved.

And when the time came for Joey to return to his flat with Madeleine, he felt like shit. He didn’t want to go. He wanted to stay in the strange fantasy world he had with Henry, eating too much food and drinking too much wine, cuddling and watching crappy Netflix shows.

Which was why he was sat, staring at a messy pile of clothes on his bed, clothes he’d not worn in weeks. Over the chair were his onesies and a collection of jumpers and hoodies that he’d stolen from Henry over the last few months and weeks. Kal stared up at him from the floor, tail thumping against the carpet.

Joey sighed and ran his hand through his hair, trying desperately to ignore the ache in his chest that was growing more painful with everything second that passed. “I don’t know, Kal. I should be happy about going home.”

Kal didn’t respond, his tail still wagging away just like it always did whenever Joey paid attention to him.

“I miss Madeleine, of course I do, but living with Henry has been great. And you, I love you, big fluffy puppy!” He cooed with a big smile as Kal barked happily and jumped up onto the bed. Joey laughed as he tried to keep his face away from the attack, wrapping his arms around Kal’s neck and pressing his nose into the fur.

“If I tell him how I feel that’s just going to make season two really really awkward, but I just feel like I’m missing a chance, you know?”

If Kal knew, he either didn’t care or just enjoyed watching Joey suffer. There was no reply and Kal just rested his head in Joey’s lap.

“Yeah, right,” he muttered, still running his fingers through Kal’s fur. “You’re no use.”

Kal snorted at that and Joey rolled his eyes.

“But I love you anyway, yes I do!”

“Ready to go?” Henry asked from the door.

“Shit!” Joey yelped. “How long have you been standing there?!”

Henry chuckled, striding into the room and perching on the bed opposite Joey. He reached out to scratch Kal on the head with a dazzling smile. Joey felt his cheeks warm up and he buried his face in Kal’s fur to hide the blush. So many months and he still couldn’t stop his heart from racing whenever Henry smiled. He was pathetic.

And he was running out of time.

He knew it was a bad idea, even entertaining the thought of dating a co-star, but he’d regret it if he didn’t give it a shot. I mean he could always blame the mixed signals if it went wrong. They’d nearly kissed twice and Joey didn’t even cuddle Madeleine as much as he’d cuddled Henry. They were probably the only people that were less touch-starved during the lockdown than before.

So Joey was going to tell him.

Just three words.

He could do that.

Fuck!

He couldn’t do that.

“Joey?” Henry said, reaching out to squeeze Joey’s shoulder.

Joey blinked. Had Henry been talking to him? He’d asked a question so that would make sense. God, his anxiety had gone through the roof, it was like that first day all over again.

“Need to pack,” he mumbled, gesturing at his clothes.

Henry let out a long and heavy sigh, sounding just as thrilled about the idea as Joey did. “I suppose you do, yeah. When is Madeleine due over?”

Joey hummed, glancing at his watch. “Ten minutes ago. Lockdown traffic must be a thing of the past.”

“Pity.”

“Yeah.”

“Yeah,” Henry sighed.

Neither of them moved, both staring glumly at Kal who was happily nestled between them. It was strange but Joey had almost begun to think of Kal as his, theirs. Their home, their life, their dog. He would miss Kal very much.

He would miss Henry even more.

“Do you have a start date yet?” Joey asked, the restrictions were lifting and there were talks about getting back to work again, but it was all up in the air.

Henry shook his head. “Should be getting a call from my agent some time this week. I need to make sure my other projects can work around the schedule.”

Joey smirked, “Or my dear witcher will have a new face next time we meet,” he teased.

Henry scoffed. “Not a chance, you’re stuck with me, bard.”

“You still owe me an apology,” Joey shot back, not quite realising how close they’d gotten during their mock argument.

He swallowed and licked his lips, one hand reaching up to scratch the stubble on his cheek. His face was burning right up to the tips of his ears, his heart thumping in his chest. There was a spark of electricity crackling between them, the scent of coffee lingering on Henry’s breath.

“I’ll make it up to you,” Henry promised, voice hoarse and low, making heat spread through Joey’s body and the world around them seemed to disappear.

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah,” Henry breathed, the words shaky.

Joey longed to reach out and brush his fingertips along the strong line of Henry’s jaw, to feel the scratch of stubble beneath his skin. He longed to tangle his hands in the dark mess of curls, to see if they were really as soft as they looked. It felt as if there was a magnetic force pulling them closer, a string tying their souls together, binding them as one. Joey couldn’t ignore even if he wanted to, and he was over that. He couldn’t live inside his head any longer, not when there was a chance.

Hope.

Deadly, poisoning his very soul, until he could think of nothing except Henry’s lips on his, hands roaming bodies, pulling at hair, unable to resist the promised pleasures of sin. Tongues tangling. Hearts singing. One breath shared between two. Heat. Lust. Love.

Just Henry.

His love.

Joey closed his eyes and pressed his forehead against Henry’s, their lips barely ghosting over each other, you really couldn’t call it a kiss; not yet. One more breath, a millimetre to close the gap.

A horn honked from outside and they pulled apart before they could cross the bridge, past the point of no return.

Joey let out a slightly manic laugh and ran his hands through his hair, whilst Henry went back to stroking Kal as he cleared his throat.

“Bollocks, I still haven’t packed.”

“I’ll invite Madeleine in for some tea,” Henry chuckled, stretching as he stood up.

Kal barked happily and jumped down, wagging his tail as he sniffed at Henry’s socks.

And Joey was left alone once more.

“Fuck!” he groaned, covering his face as he flopped back onto his pillows.

By the time he finished packing, Madeleine and Henry were laughing away in the kitchen like old friends.

Like Joey and Henry had so many times.

He wasn’t special. Henry was just that guy.

Hope.

Dangerous and lethal, stabbing into the heart and tearing the soul apart.

“Ready,” Joey mumbled, holding up his suitcase and guitar. “Might take a couple of trips, I have another bag upstairs and the damn lute.”

“Not sure I ever heard you play the lute?” Henry teased.

“Yeah well,” Joey grumbled and turned away from the kitchen before he could start crying.

He really really didn’t want to cry in front of Henry. What was a little heartbreak between friends? At least he could channel that into Jaskier whenever they finally got back onto set. God, he was a fucking mess.

“I’ll help you,” Henry volunteered because of course he would. He probably just wanted Joey gone sooner.

The poor bloke probably couldn’t wait to have his own space back without Joey’s inedible attempts at cooking, non-stop music and chatter, lazy slobbish evenings in front of the TV.

He wasn’t going to cry.

He wasn’t.

Fuck!

Joey sniffed and stumbled out the door, his hands gripping his suitcase so tight he thought he might break the handle. Back home with Madeleine, to his life, and his bed, and nights spent drinking too much wine and lurking on social media.

He’d just about managed to throw his suitcase into the boot when he heard a loud bark behind him, followed by Henry grunting. Joey was almost knocked off his feet as Kal bundled into him, circling around as he jumped up, winding the lead around Joey’s body and pulling a poor Henry with him.

Not that Joey was particularly complaining about having Henry pressed up against him, but did it have to be when he was crying?

Henry cursed, struggling to keep hold of the lead. Their faces were close and they had to wrap their arms around each other to keep steady. Joey laughed through his tears, reminded of a similar moment from one of his favourite Disney films.

Only Kal was a lot bigger than a Dalmatian.

“I don’t think he wants you to leave?” Henry said, smiling sheepishly.

Joey smiled back despite his broken heart. “Doesn’t look like it.”

“I- I don’t want you to leave either,” Henry whispered so quietly that Joey wasn’t sure whether he’d heard it at all. “I- umm, I like having you here… with me.”

“Oh,” Joey replied stupidly.

“Fuck, I- Joey… Can- can I kiss you?”

The world turned upside down. Joey's heart stopped and everything started to spin. He tried to process the words but nothing seemed to make sense. There was no fucking way that Henry had said that, that he wanted to- wanted to…

Fuck!

“Oh,” he repeated, blinking at Henry as he licked his lips. “I mean. Fuck. No, I mean… Christ. Yes. Please. Yes.”

Henry chuckled and cupped his cheek, pressing their lips together in the most tender of kisses, taking Joey’s breath away right there on the pavement. Joey just giggled when they parted and then swooped back in for another kiss, and another-

And he never wanted to stop.

He didn’t need to breathe, he just needed this; Henry’s lips on his.

Henry had other ideas though, pulling away with a blinding smile.

“Stay with me?”

Joey nodded and threw his arms around Henry’s neck. “God, yes.”

And then they kissed some more. They had months of lockdown to catch up on, after all.

#the witcher rpf #henry cavill rpf #Joey batey rpf #Joey batey/henry cavill #Joey/henry

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manikas-whims · 4 years ago

Text

A Place Good Enough

[Read on AO3]

Ship: Kaz Brekker X Inej Ghafa

Summary:

Kaz pays Inej's indenture at the Menagerie and she joins the dregs.

A short fic that adds a little more of what happens that night after Kaz takes her with him.

Note:

I'm a new fan and read the SoC Duology this Feb.

This is my first time writing these characters so please excuse anything weird, I tried my best.

Inej may seem a bit scared in this because she isn't the Inej we know in SoC. This will be the first fic of many where I'll try to show our Crows before the events of SoC. A look at their daily lives in the Dregs. And the slow development of feelings between Kanej.

Hope you enjoy this short piece ♥

Kaz

“Let’s start by getting out of here and finding you some proper clothes. Oh, and Inej,” he says, “don't ever sneak up on me again.”

And yet as he ushers the Suli girl out of the salon, the bustling streets remind him how foolish it will be to roam around the barrel at night. Ofcourse a mere glance at his cane and gloved hands is enough to ward people off. No one in Ketterdam dares crossing the young man that goes by the title of Dirtyhands. Even so, it won’t be good for his carefully crafted reputation to be seen limping around at indecent hours with an exotic girl in tow. Dirtyhands doesn’t waste time on frivolous things. He has vengeance to condemn and for that he requires proper focus and meticulous steps. Brick by brick. He reminds himself.

With a quick scan of his surroundings to make sure no one is looking, he removes the deep grey coat he’s adorning and hands it to the girl. He doesn’t miss the way she flinches at the action, probably just as scared of him as the rest of this city.

“Cover yourself.” He commands and continues walking. Thankfully, the girl doesn’t waste time being confused or shocked and quietly does as told. He also notes how she maintains a distance whilst following him but makes sure to stick close enough, her feet soundless despite the bells tied around her dainty ankles.

Inej

Kaz Brekker finally slows his walk as they approach a shabby building in the remote parts of the Barrel. Its lit and noisy but Inej can tell its definitely not a clothing store. And it is only moments later that cold realization dawns on her. There was no release from enslavement to begin with, just a deal struck between a bawd from the west stave and the lieutenant of a notorious gang in the east stave. It was a sham all along. Why wouldn’t it be? Why would one of the most sinister criminals in Kerch buy her out of slavery only to be shifted to an indenture? She should’ve been skeptical. Instead, she had been hopeful because the boy named Dirtyhands is after all, a young one like herself. She thought he may have empathized with her. He had even offered his coat to her. But oh what an utter fool she had been! Everything in Ketterdam comes with a price. Even something as natural as freedom.

Should she sprint away? She can take-off right now. He hasn’t looked back even once to check if she’s there. And he’s a cripple! She can easily outrun him. Yet all these plans formulating in her head are laced around a grim sense of fear. Kaz Brekker doesn’t need a reason. Or so she has heard. He has already earned an ill reputation for being whimsical. She mustn’t start giving him reasons to chase and drag her back down these dark alleys. So she quietly trails behind him as the door opens with a creak.

Men of varying ages who had been busy chatting and drinking, stare at them. His entry seems to raise everyone’s attention as they watch him walk by and approach the staircase. Although that’s all she sees as she continues after the uncaring boy, she does hear numerous brazen remarks.

“Am I too drunk or has Brekker actually brought in a girl?”

“Ghezen! We all must be sloshed.”

“I almost believed something was going on between him and that Zemeni boy.”

“So…Suli huh?”

Some snickers follow this particular remark but the boy doesn’t seem to mind. Does this mean their assumptions aren’t wrong? A wave of panic courses through her but Inej tries to calm herself with deep breaths, tries to focus her mind on the stairs instead. She has faced all sorts of repulsive men in the sheets. Dirtyhands can’t be much different. And even if the rumors aren’t false and he’s part-demon beneath the façade of his sharp suits, she can still push herself to handle anything. If serving as his mistress will warrant her safety from the likes of Tante Heleen, she can do this.

A soft clicking sound pulls her out of her trail of anxious thoughts. She notices they’ve walked past several floors and are currently going up into an attic. The inside isn’t much special but appropriately furnished— an old door placed atop several crates acting as a desk, a big window overseeing the surroundings and a door separating what she assumes must be a storage of sorts or a bedroom.

When Brekker finally turns around, his expression as unreadable as ever, Inej shivers. She takes one last gulp of air in hopes of easing herself. She can do this. She just needs to leave her body like she always does. Let the little lynx take care of such matters.

She begins by discarding his coat. Her eyes are lowered to the floor but she can sense his unwavering gaze. Maybe he’s one of those who take pleasure in watching a woman undo herself for him. Or maybe its something else entirely. His stoic demeanor doesn’t provide much to guess. Her shaky hands reach for the hooks in the back of her purple blouse. I can endure this! She mentally assures herself.

“What exactly are you doing?” comes his low voice, like a rasp of stone on stone.

Her hands fumble and come to a halt. She raises her eyelids to find a barely visible, amused smirk marring his pale countenance. “I..thought..I just–”

“Inej, was it?” he interrupts, leaning his weight on his frightening cane shaped like the head of a crow. Did she do something wrong? Will he use it on her? Her shoulders hunch slightly in preparation of whatever is to come. She hears an audible sigh instead. “I don’t remember us agreeing to such terms back at the Menagerie.”

Now she does look up, eyes wide in disbelief. “Oh..”

He passes a hand through his hair. “But since you seem eager to–”

“I’m not!” she yells, her cheeks tinted a lovely shade of pink. Frankly she doesn’t know how to react. It’s her first time speaking to a man who isn’t demanding any sexual favors from her but isn’t being very nice either.

He hobbles over to the makeshift desk and settles on a chair behind it. “Let me guess,” he starts, resting his bad leg on the tabletop and the cane in his lap. “You didn’t trust me.”

“I did!” she protests like a child falsely accused of stealing candies. However, the embarrassment of her response follows immediately and she tilts her head down again. “Not truly but–”

“Wrong answer.” His tone is even more gritty now. “Its good that you expected the worst. Never trust anyone in the barrel.”

Inej looks at him again. It’s far too late for that lesson now. She’s learnt it the harshest of ways.

“I may be many things but I keep my word, Inej.” He adds solemnly, then fishes out a lone key from his pants' pocket. “Here” he gestures for her to come forward and receive it.

She scurries to the desk and takes it, her fingers lightly grazing along his gloved ones. Is he sending her on an errand already? Is procuring something important going to be her first task for the Dregs?

“Head downstairs and unlock the room directly below this attic with the key.” He tells simply and starts working on the tall stacks of papers lying on the desk.

She waits for further details but when he says nothing more she inquires herself, “For what?”

He glances at her, a brow quirked as if mocking her obliviousness. “Its your room from now on. Go get some sleep.”

“What about my..services?” she asks.

“We’ll discuss all that tomorrow morning.” He answers and waves her off, willing her to leave already.

Downstairs, upon unlocking an old cream-colored door and switching on the light, Inej is greeted by a tiny room. There’s a window overlooking the barrel, a cot arranged directly below it and an empty trunk lying open. Fortunately, everything is clean and dry and without any trace of smells.

As she steps inside, memories of her old life flash before her bleary eyes. This place is not even close to the large tents she used to perform in with her parents yet for some reason, she feels warm. Its not home but it’s good enough.

Shutting the door, she turns off the light and drops unceremoniously onto the cot. Moonlight illuminates the room- her room- in a dim glow. And slowly it happens. Her tense body relaxes into the mattress and her unshed emotions are set free in the form of tears slipping down her cheeks. Loud sobs rack her small frame as her hands hug the grey coat close to her chest. Amidst her shock and disbelief at actually being saved from sexual exploitation, she must have forgotten to return it. Kaz Brekker’s statement was like a dream she’s had every night since being stolen and shackled. A dream of being saved from the hell that is prostitution. I keep my word, Inej. She giggles at the sound of her real name being called by this stranger, tears staining her lips. She hasn’t heard it in so long that she almost forgot who she was. In letting her body go so as to persevere everyday at the Menagerie, she hadn’t noticed that the lively girl called Inej Ghafa was also withering away. She clutches the coat tighter as if fiercely trying to hold onto her remaining self. And for the first time since an year, she sleeps without the fear of being hurt.

Hope it was enjoyable!

I'm thinking of writing a short sequel drabble where Inej just goes to return Kaz's coat in front of everyone at the Dregs xD

SoC Masterlist

( divider by @firefly-graphics )

#kanej #kanej fanfic #kaz brekker #inej ghafa #six of crows #kaz x inej #crooked kingdom #shadow and bone #grishaverse #dirtyhands #the wraith #kanej fanfiction

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willykappymarnsmatts · 3 years ago

Text

Angels Like You (Can't Fly Down Here With Me)(Chapter 4)(A. Matthews/M. Marner)

Mitch and Auston roll into practice together and park next to the same entrance they do every single practice. Business as usual, even though all Mitch wants to do is crawl back into bed and cry or actually murder someone with all the conflicted feelings he has. Auston being at his place this morning has made it slightly more bearable though. Just his presence makes everything seem kind of okay, and as they get out of the car, it’s almost as if he reads Mitch’s mind and puts his hand on his thigh and squeezes gently, in an effort to comfort him enough to stop him from actually vibrating with nerves. “You gonna be okay? I can always tell Keefe you’re too hungover, or sick, or whatever you want the story to be.”

Mitch’s breath catches, which he blames on Auston forcing him out of his head so suddenly, not on his touch, and smiles a bit, but shakes his head. “I’m okay. Honestly. I think this is the best thing for me right now, to just continue life as usual.”

Auston knows he’s lying, knows Mitch well enough to tell when he’s not being totally honest, but he smiles at him anyways and nods. “If you need anything just tell me, alright? Anything.” Auston actually might jump in front of a bus with how overly affectionate he knows he sounds, but Mitch smiles slightly and glances at Auston before looking back down at his lap, and he forgets to be disgusted with himself. They drag themselves out of the car and as they grab their bags, Will comes up from behind them and pushes himself between the two of them, an arm around each of their shoulders.

“Morning, boys,” Will starts, all too energetic and bubbly for the tense air around them. It breaks the grey cloud looming over Mitch’s head a bit, though, but when he visibly perks up Auston’s heart clenches. He’s happy, of course, but almost jealous it wasn’t him to snap him out of it.

Why couldn’t it be him?

“Morning, Will. How ya doing, bud?”

“Great, actually.” The two of them trail off into a conversation about Will’s exciting morning, leaving Auston to berate himself. He wants so badly to be William at this moment. The jealousy he feels makes him want to vomit. He actually might be sick, because what the fuck. It’s his two best friends. It’s not like Mitch even likes him back, never mind loves him the way Auston does. He has no fucking right to be jealous, but he can’t help it. Mitch is his entire world, and he’d kill to just put a smile on his pretty face, and Will is able to do it in the first two seconds of them seeing each other. He doesn’t want anyone to make Mitch as happy as he does, and it's gross and disgusting and toxic but he can’t help it because it’s how he feels. He hates it, but it’s the truth.

Mitch notices his silence and when they sit down next to each other in their stalls, he tries to ask him what’s up by knocking their knees together. Auston just shakes his head and bites his tongue, swallowing down the three words he wants to say more than anything to save himself from the embarrassment and disappointment he knows he would feel for the rest of time if he was actually honest about this. It’s the one thing he knows he can’t share with Mitch, and it’s the one thing he wants to the most. Mitch just nods, pauses for a second, then starts without looking up at Auston right away.

“Will invited us over to his place for dinner tonight. Said his apartment’s been empty with Kap gone, and I haven’t been over there in a while…” The guilt that displays itself all over Mitch’s face is more than enough to have Auston nodding his head in agreement, even though he knows exactly what Will is planning to do as soon as he has the two of them in a room together with him and no fans or teammates or staff to see. He just does not have the energy for it today, but who could say no to Mitch. “Cool! Awesome, I’ll, uh, I’ll tell him we can go, then. What time do you want me to pick you up?”

It has to stop, Auston knows that. The two of them have been driving each other around since rookie year, and it’s probably part of what led to all of his messed up feelings. Spending so much time with each other, it’s bound to happen to at least one of them, and the one ended up being Auston. So it has to stop. “I can drive myself, you know.” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as snide as it does, because when would he ever purposely try to hurt Mitch, but the second the words leave his mouth he regrets all of it.

“Oh,” Mitch nods, looking like someone just sucker-punched him in the gut. “Uhm, yeah, I know. I just thought that, since I usually pick you up to go to things, I would. But if you don’t want to, that's fine. Yeah.” He shoots his gaze to the floor, unsure of what to do now. He wasn’t expecting it to be that big of a deal, but now he feels like he’s suffocating.

Auston’s chest hurts so bad he could scream, and even though his heart is saying to lighten up and back off, when he opens his mouth, his tone stays the same as before. “I just think we should give each other some space sometimes. It’s not like you’re my boyfriend or anything.” He spits the last word and actually cannot physically remove the disgust from his face. What the fuck is wrong with you?! Relax!

Mitch doesn’t look up right away, but nods and bites his lip. Auston gets up and starts putting his stuff from his bag into his cubby, and out of the corner of his eye he can see Mitch unsure of what to do with himself, playing with his watch absentmindedly while he chews the living hell out of the inside of his cheek. He continues to watch him while he gets up from his place and stands up next to Auston.

“What is up with you lately, man?” Mitch suddenly bursts, his voice raised a level louder than anyone else in the room. The entire team falls silent, and Auston knows for a fact that usually that would make Mitch calm down, chill out, because despite the fact that he has an A on his chest and has the centre of attention in most rooms he walks into, he still forgets what he wants to say as soon as he has the room’s attention. He continues right on, though, without a second thought about who’s listening. “You’re on and you’re off. You show up to my place all ‘I love you I care about you you don’t need her’ and now you’re snappy and rude. What the fuck have I done to you to hate me so fucking much that when I’m already down, you act like I’m fucking stupid and don’t notice you look miserable when you’re around me?!”

Auston turns towards Mitch, but when he sees the look on his face, any comeback that was on his lips dies right there. He’s seen that look on him, pointed towards the opposing player on a faceoff, or towards a ref after a stupid call against his team, and heartbreakingly towards himself in the mirror after a game he feels like he lost. Auston’s always been the one to wipe that look away, to tell him everythings going to be okay, to calm him down and remind him there’s absolutely nothing wrong with him. That look has never been pointed towards him. Never.

Will stands up then and starts towards Mitch, looking frantically back and forth between Mitch and Auston, looking for Auston to tell him what to do. Auston just stares at Mitch, tongue in cheek, so Will tries to butt in. “Hey, Mitch, I think we should chill out a bit, eh?” “Get the fuck away from me Will. I need to know what his fucking problem is.” Mitch shoves Will to the side, and even though he could’ve easily stood his ground, he backs away a step, not leaving his side completely. Will looks up at Auston, completely unsure of how he’s supposed to help in this situation. Auston thinks his lungs might have actually collapsed because he suddenly can't get a breath in. John makes his way over to the three of them from the other side of the locker room and puts his arms on Auston’s biceps, knowing his tells for when he needs right there, in his space, to calm him down before he implodes. He turns him away from Mitch and forces Auston to make eye contact with him, to look away from Mitch. “Shower, Aus?”

He doesn’t respond, but numbly follows his captain to the showers without looking back to see Will push Mitch into his seat and sit next to him with an arm around his shoulder, all the fight evidently escaping Mitch’s body. “Suit up and ice in two minutes, boys,” John announces to the team before leaving the room.

The door to the showers swings shut and John walks over to where Auston is leaning against a stall door. “What just happened?”

He didn’t even feel like crying two seconds ago, but with his captain so close to him, looking at him like he’s a wounded puppy, he can’t keep it together anymore. John stays right in front of him, doesn’t flinch when Auston’s shoulders start to shake and the tears start to stream down his face.

“I love him, John,” Auston admits, defeated. His shoulders slump and he doesn’t really look at John, instead staring at his hands, his slides, John’s shoulder. “I love him, and he doesn’t love me, he’ll never love me the way I love him, and I think I might die. I actually think it might kill me, how much I love him.” John just shakes his head, looking sadder than Auston has ever seen him, and pulls him into a tight hug. He holds him there for a couple seconds, until Auston grunts a little and steps back. “Yeah, I, uh, I love him more than I’ve ever loved anyone or anything. Love isn’t even a big enough word to describe the feelings I have for him. But he, uh, he doesn’t love me, and I don’t really know how to get over it.”

“Oh, kid, you don’t.”

“What?” Auston was expecting some sort of advice, maybe an ‘I know’, not a fucking death sentence.

“You don’t just ‘get over it’, kid. It doesn’t work that way. I’m sure you’ve had girlfriends you’ve ‘loved’, and you ‘love’ your dog, and your team, but this is a totally different thing. I believe that once in your life, you meet someone who changes the way you see the world. They take everything you think you know, throw it in the garbage, and reteach it to you. They show you what true, unconditional, absolute love is. You feel like you can’t breathe when you’re without them, and you only feel truly complete when they’re next to you. You can’t imagine your life without them. That’s your soulmate, and if you don’t end up with them, you might ‘move on’, you might meet someone and get married and have kids and have your dream life, but you’ll never truly forget them. They’re your one big, true, epic love.”

“Is that you and Aryne?”

John nods, smiling a little, but remaining somber. “Yeah, it is.”

“Is that, uh, is that me and Mitch?” “I think so, buddy. And if he doesn’t feel the same, it’ll feel like it’ll kill you, but I promise you you’ll survive. It’ll be hell, but you will get through it, and you will be happy again. Maybe never as happy as you are when you’re around him, but close. And if he does feel the same, you’ll be happy as long as you’re with him. Even when the entire world feels like it’s crumbling down around you, he’ll be there, and it’ll make everything kind of okay.”

Auston is unsure how to respond, how to say something even close to as emotionally intelligent as John. “What should I do?” he asks.

“I can’t tell you that, bud. All I can tell you is he is your one true, epic love, and if you let him slip away before ever telling him how you feel, you will never, ever forgive yourself.”

Auston nods and leans in to briefly hug his captain, then shakes his entire body out, takes a breath, and goes to strap on his skates. Mitch is his soulmate. It’s something he’s always had an idea of, something he always thought might possibly be true, but to hear someone else say it out loud, to hear the actual words spoken by his captain of all people, it convinces whatever part of him was holding out on the thought.

Mitch is his soulmate.

He doesn’t know if Mitch feels the same. In fact, he’s almost sure he doesn’t. But if he doesn’t say anything, he’ll regret it for the rest of his life. He pauses where he is, bent over, tying his skate laces. He sits up with his hands on his knees and looks at John, who’s across the room, tying his own laces. “I have to go.”

“And do what?” John doesn’t look up, but Auston knows he has his full attention.

“I just have to do something. I have to tell him, I think, but it has to be perfect, because he’s perfect. I have to, uh, I have to go,” Auston trails off and starts taking off his skates at lightning speed. John look up at him briefly, a small smile on his face.

“Don’t worry about anything, Aus. I’ll take care of Keefe.” Auston nods without looking at his captain, his mind spinning, but completely and utterly focused on the one thing he knows is true.

Mitch is my soulmate. I am utterly in love with Mitch Marner.

And I’m gonna teach him what real love is.

#auston matthews/mitch marner #auston matthews #mitch marner #hockey #nhl #hockey fic #hockey imagine #toronto maple leafs #william nylander #john tavares #willykappymarnsmatts

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out-of-jams · 5 years ago

Text

One Chance || myg

(Amazing, incredibly badass banner made by @kimtaehyunq )

↠ One Chance ↞ Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a guy with a bad reputation, your assigned partner for your final project.

And the last thing you ever would have expected.

Word Count: 7.4k

Warnings/Genre: College!au. Music producer!Yoongi x Singer!Reader. Fluff. Explicit language. Some angst. Mentions of alcohol. s2l. Oneshot.

A/n: Hey all you cool cats and kittens. Hope you’re all staying safe out there! I wasn’t intending to write this, but I had no other choice.

All of my works are purely fiction. Everything I write is my intellectual property and therefore belongs to me. ©out-of-jams. Do not copy or repost without permission.

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Min Yoongi.

The name stared up at you in size twelve font, black letters printed onto the white sheeted paper. Every other word on the page blurred around the edges as you tried to place a face to the name. You weren’t good with names, never had been. So with a sigh, you leaned to the side and mumbled to the girl sitting next to you in class.

“Hey, who’s Min Yoongi?”

She--Mira? Mina? something like that--glanced up from her portfolio opened up on the desk and shot you a disbelieving look. You couldn’t blame her, not really. It was nearing the end of the semester and your vocal class had worked with the music production class multiple times throughout the course of the year. Neither class was very big, so you probably should have known the names of all twenty students. Total. Ten in each class.

But hey, in your defense you’d had a lot on your plate, seeing as how you were about to graduate from university and all. Which was a pretty big deal, so memorizing the names of people you only saw a few times ever-so-often wasn’t high up on your list of priorities.

But Min Yoongi.

You recognized him the moment you saw the soft outline of his profile through the glass window of the studio door a day later. He had his attention trained on whatever was on his laptop screen, pale hand sliding across the mousepad. His dark brows were pinched in concentration and you could see the tip of his tongue digging into the side of his cheek.

Even though the overly-bright lights in the room were on, the guy still somehow managed to blend in with the slate grey walls. Hell, his icy blond hair was the only color to stand out amongst all the black clothing. The oversized hoodie and black joggers he wore looked comfortable, and had you glancing down at your own outfit self-consciously. Had the sweater, skirt and high heeled boots combo been too much? Should you have dressed down a little?

Whatever. It was too late now.

Watching him through the door made you feel like some kind of stalking creep, but you couldn’t help it.

You’d seen him around campus a few times and recognized him from whenever your classes joined together and was a little disappointed at yourself for not recognizing his name. Even though you'd never spoken a word to him before, you were a little apprehensive about being partnered together. Min Yoongi had a reputation, and not a very good one. Sure, he was talented at what he did, producing music, to the point where a lot of people in the music department called him a genius. But he was known for being standoffish. Rude. And could cut someone down with a few words from his naturally pouty lips.

You didn’t like to judge a book by its cover, or by the rumors that circulated about them. However, that did nothing for the intimidating aura that bled from the man like cologne the second you stepped foot into the room.

He didn’t even pause in whatever he was doing to spare you a glance. Just announced in a dry, rumbling voice, “You’re late.”

“Uh.” You hesitated halfway into the room, the door swinging shut behind you automatically. Two seconds in and he already hated you. Great. “Sorry. I got lost.”

That made him look up and watch as you pulled the only other rolling chair back from the desk and plopped down. God, his eyes were just as daunting as the rest of him: onyx in color and cat-like in shape, they were bottomless as he blinked at you lazily. And he slowly raised a disbelieving eyebrow.

“You got lost.” Yoongi repeated slowly. So sarcastically that you didn’t even hear a question mark at the end of it. “Aren’t you about to graduate? How are you still getting lost on campus?”

Your mouth opened and closed, embarrassed heat blossoming across your cheeks. You were blushing hard and you knew it, but that sure as hell didn’t mean that you had to acknowledge it. So you just sniffed and dug through your backpack for an excuse to break eye contact. “I haven’t been in here before.”

It was true. In a way. The hall of studios that you were in now were for the senior music production students. There was a completely different area for each year, but each student had their own assigned as theirs for the semester. So you weren’t lying when you said you hadn’t been to his exact studio before.

Which he seemed to catch on to, if the way Yoongi’s second eyebrow raised to join the first told you anything. But he let it go and turned back to shut his laptop, which you could now see was opened to a music production app. You weren’t very schooled on how to operate it, but even you could tell that he seemed to be very far into whatever it was he was making.

Though you didn’t get a good enough look at it before he closed it.

“Even though we have a month to do this, we should figure out what kind of song we’re making now instead of later.” Yoongi stated in that gruff voice of his and clicked a few things on his laptop. “Since you’re the one singing, you’ll be setting the tone--”

“Wait.” You interrupted.

Yoongi stopped whatever it was he was about to say to give you a blank look, the corners of his lips turned down. “What?”

Clearing your throat, you continued on despite the way his expression tried to cow you into shutting up. “How’re we splitting this up?”

A valid question. Not every person who created music worked in the same way. Some liked to do things a completely different way than somebody else might’ve. Last time you’d worked with one of the students from the music production class, the two of you had butted heads the whole way. He hadn’t wanted to hear your input at all, and you weren’t about to be shoved off to the side like some kind of un-opinionated mouthpiece again.

Yoongi made a noise in the back of his throat that sounded like a hum. “I normally make the track and leave the lyrics up to the singer unless they need help.”

He looked at you from out of the corner of his eye as he clicked a few buttons on the keyboard in front of him to bring the giant monitor above the control panel to life. “Can you write?”

“Yes.” The word left your mouth before you could even think about it.

“Good. You’ll take care of that then.” Yoongi slid a blank yellow notepad into the empty space on the control panel between you. “Though we’ll need to do the melody before that.”

The next time the two of you met was almost a week later. It’d been sometime late in the afternoon when you both finally had time in your schedules. Because for some stupid reason, even though both of your classes were combined to work on the project, it had to be done outside of class.

Ugh.

As if you didn’t already have enough things to stress over. Like say, securing a job for after graduation.

During the first meeting between the two of you, you’d already decided on what kind of song you wanted to make. Something upbeat, but not over the top, though not boring either. You weren’t a huge fan of sounding like every other music artist out there and apparently Yoongi had felt the same. So it’d been easy to come up with.

He’d texted over a few ideas for the concept and you’d been pleasantly surprised at how serious he took it. At how complex and layered the ideas he’d come up with were. They were a lot better than anything you could have ever dreamed up and you were beyond astonished.

Especially when he met you outside of his studio door, blond hair was secured back off his forehead by a white headband, and greeted you with, “I finished the track.”

“Already?” Shock was clear in your voice and you watched open mouthed as he unlocked the door and held it open for you to follow him inside. The lights flickered on overhead, but you were too busy staring at his back to notice. “That was quick, holy shit.”

Yoongi shrugged off your awe and wiggled the mouse to bring his computer to life. “It was no big deal. And now we can work on the melody.”

Still gaping at the blond, you shuffled forward to drop your bag next to your chair. “Okay. Um. Where should we start?”

Pulling out his chair, he sat down and lazily dragged the mouse over to open up his production software. “Listen to it first and let me know if you want to make any changes.”

“Yeah, okay.” You plopped down into your own chair and watched as he pressed play.

The music that poured from the expensive speakers started off slowly until it tapered off into what you assumed would be the first chorus. And you found yourself unconsciously tapping your fingers against your thigh when the bridge finally hit, you had to bite your lip to contain an excited smile. The moment it ended, you twisted in your chair to see that he was already looking at you. Though he kept his face blank, you could literally see question lingering behind those cat-like eyes of his.

“Mm.” You hummed, nodding your head and trying your damnedest to keep the grin from your face.

When you failed to say anything more, Yoongi raised his eyebrows. “Mm?”

“Mm.” You finally let the smile touch your lips. “I really liked it. It’s good.”

“Yeah?” He reached out to stop the track from replaying on a loop. “Any changes?”

“Nah. I like it just the way it is.”

“Alright.” Was what he responded with, but you could tell that he was pleased beneath that hard exterior of his. “The melody then.”

“The melody.” You agreed.

Min Yoongi was extremely anal when it came to anything he attached his name to.

That was probably why he had so many music companies vying for his attention. Not only did he produce nothing short of perfect tracks, but he’d even made some cash on the side selling some of them. Or so you’d heard through the grapevine.

Which was exactly why you were left staring at the blank notebook settled across your crossed legs. The pen in your hand had yet to put ink to the blank pages hours after you’d gotten home. All because some guy intimidated the hell out of you.

Most of the songs you wrote were fine. But that was the problem.

Min Yoongi didn’t do fine. And you had no doubt in your mind that he’d tear your work to absolute shreds should you present him something lackluster. Maybe you shouldn’t have been so quick to jump the gun and tell him you’d be fine writing by yourself.

It was way too late now.

“How long are you going to stare like that?”

Snapping out of your self-degrading thoughts, you turned to look over your shoulder. Jennie, your ever present roommate, was standing behind the couch shoving spoonfuls of cereal into her mouth. By the lack of makeup on her face and the messy bun her long black hair was thrown up into, she was more than likely about to go to bed.

“Stare like what?” You asked with a poorly concealed pout, pulling out your earbuds that’d been playing the track on a constant loop.

“Like you’re constipated or something.” Jennie waved her spoon at you before dipping it back into the bowl to scoop up more soggy cereal. “Project really giving you that much trouble?”

She didn’t necessarily know exactly what was going on with you, not exactly. Sure, she knew that you were partners with Yoongi and had been spending a lot of time with the man for the project. But she didn’t know just how much pressure you were under. Self-inflicted or not.

“These lyrics are kicking my ass.” Groaning, you leaned to the side until you were sprawled out on the couch.

“Why?” Jennie rested her arms against the back of it, bowl of milk and cereal hovering over you dangerously. “They don’t normally.”

She had a point. It wasn’t usually so difficult to write a damn song, but you also didn’t usually have a perfectionist genius as a partner. Instead of saying that though, you just threw your arms over your face. “I don’t know. Maybe I’m just not cut out for this, ‘ya know? I should drop out while I still can.”

“O-kay.” You could hear her exasperated eye roll. “Don’t stress so much about it. You know, whenever you’re done being overdramatic.”

Jennie successfully dodged the couch pillow you chucked after fleeing footsteps. A buzz from your phone had you reaching for it blindly and the text on the screen had you burying your face into the cushions.

Min Yoongi: you free tomorrow?

Y/n: yeah. Same time?

His response came in not even five seconds later.

Min Yoongi: works for me

“So, see you tomorrow?” The question left your lips as you packed your stuff back into your bag. You still hadn’t been able to come up with any lyrics. At least none good enough to show your partner. So while you’d both been in the studio, you’d busied yourself trying to write and Yoongi had been doing whatever it was that he did.

He’d just powered down the computer he’d been working on and shook his head without looking at you. “I can’t tomorrow. I have plans.”

“Oh, really?” That came as a surprise. The fact that there was something or someone out there that could force the Min Yoongi to ditch working on a song. “What kind of plans?”

Ever since you’d showed up with food two weeks ago, he’d been a little more amicable towards you. Not as closed off. Which, of course, only led to you bringing some with you every day. Maybe food being the way to a man’s heart really applied to every man. Nonetheless, with the way the two of you would banter back and forth without heat made you hope that it wasn’t just you who considered him a friend.

Yoongi paused, only for a moment, but he paused all the same in throwing his bag over his shoulder before he answered. “I...have a show.”

“A show?” Your eyebrows raised in surprise as you stood up. That was the last thing you would have expected to leave his mouth. “What kind of show?”

“It’s not the type of show you’d want to watch.” He headed for the door and you scrambled to follow after him.

Leaning against the wall while he locked up the door, you folded your arms across your chest. “Why? You a stripper or something?”

Yoongi didn’t even spare you a look, just pocketed his keys and started down the hallway, apparently assuming that you’d follow. “You saying I wouldn’t be a good stripper?”

He’d assumed correctly. Your legs raced to catch up. “I never said that. You insinuated that all by yourself.”

An amused scoff passed his lips, but that was all you got in response. You weren’t about to letter the matter drop though. “So, are you?”

“Am I what?”

“A stripper.”

A pause. And then Yoongi met your sparkling gaze and shook his head with a huffing laugh. “No, I’m not a stripper.”

“Well, if your show isn’t anything rated NC-18, then can I go?”

“Why would you want to go?”

His question had you sending him a hesitant look. “Because we’re friends, aren't we?”

A heavy sigh escaped him. “If I say no, will you stop asking?”

You pretended to think for a minute before clicking your tongue. “Nope.”

He looked over at you, feline eyes squinting in contemplation. As much as Min Yoongi liked to act like he came across as aloof, he was a lot easier to read than he probably thought. And he must have found whatever it was he was looking for, because his thoughtful pout turned into a careless shrug.

“Whatever. Fine.”

“Sweet.” You grinned up at him and finally let him go on his merry way.

It was difficult to find a parking spot. You’d had to loop around the block at least ten times before you were finally able to squeeze your car into a space between two giant SUVs. The spot wasn’t exactly close to where you were supposed to meet Yoongi, but it was the best you could do.

When he’d texted you the address, you’d be lying if you said that you weren’t a little apprehensive at first. It was located on the outskirts of downtown where you’d never been before. Because the further out you went from the center of the city, the more dangerous it got.

Y/n: I’m here.

You sent the text off to Yoongi and cut the car engine. Throwing a glance at the clock on the dash, you silently thanked yourself for leaving a bit early in order to get there in time. The sun had long gone down and the moon had taken its place, so the streets were dark. Only lit up by the street lamps and lights that bled from apartment windows. Most of the businesses were closed for the night, the corner store half a block down was the only one still open.

You had about six blocks to walk and was just about to get out of your car when your phone started vibrating in your hand.

“Hello?” You answered the call, voice pitched with barely concealed amusement.

“Where are you?” Yoongi’s voice was even deeper over the phone, if that were possible. And you could hear the sounds of cars driving past him in the background.

You rolled your eyes even though he wasn’t there to see it. “I told you that I’m here.”

He sighed into the phone and you just knew that he was making a face. “Where is ‘here’ exactly?”

“Like, parked a few blocks away.” You popped your car door open, turning back to the passenger seat to grab your bag. “Give me a few minutes and I’ll be there.”

“Stay where you are.” Yoongi demanded and you raised an eyebrow. “I’ll come get you.”

“You don’t have to.” You huffed a laugh. “I have two legs, ‘ya know.”

“Really? Never noticed.” In the background, voices blended in with the sound of cars. “This neighborhood isn’t exactly the safest. So just tell me where you are so I can make sure you don’t get stabbed or something.”

“‘Stabbed or something?’” It was difficult to hide your amusement now, but you obeyed and got back inside your car anyway, letting him know what street you were on. “My knight in shining armor, you say the most romantic things.”

Yoongi rolled his eyes. You knew he did. “Nevermind. Maybe I’ll just let you get stabbed while I make my escape.”

The bark of laughter that left you was impossible to contain. “I could run faster than you and you know it. So try me.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“Yeah okay. You wouldn't--”

A click told you that yes, he would. And you were left staring down at your phone with open mouthed disbelief. How dare he? You were just about to call him back and tell him as much, when a knock on your car window had you jumping with a small shriek.

Yoongi stood right outside your door with his fist still raised and a gummy grin on his pouty lips. You just stuck your tongue out at him childishly and grabbed your bag before slipping out of your car. “You’re a bully.”

He slid his hands into the pockets of his dark colored jeans and shrugged. “Would a bully walk all the way over here to make sure you don’t get robbed?”

Now it was your turn to shrug, taking him in and pretending not to see his onyx eyes slide down your body. Yoongi was dressed casually like usual. With a plain white t-shirt and a black zip up jacket thrown over it, he pulled it off like he’d just stepped off a magazine cover. How in the hell he always managed to do that was a mystery to you. And you knew you didn’t compare to him, even with your high-waisted white joggers and grey crop top.

Whatever. It wasn’t like it was bright enough outside to matter anyway.

“That sounds exactly like something a robber would say.” You flicked your hair over your shoulder and took off down the cracked sidewalk, making sure to lock your car behind you.

“Not like there’d be much to steal.” Yoongi’s voice caught up to you right as he did, walking side by side with the occasional brushing of his shoulder against yours.

You responded to his playful jab by lightly smacking his arm. “Careful there. Keep saying such poetic words and you’ll make me fall in love with you, Min Yoongi.”

He went quiet, but you could feel him looking at you from the corner of his eye. His gaze was a weight that burned through you, a light shining through the night.

The rest of the walk passed by pretty quickly, especially when nobody jumped out of an alleyway to rob you at knifepoint. Whether or not that was because of the man walking at your side, or something else, it didn’t matter. Not when the building you were headed to for the night popped up in the distance.

It looked like any other building on the street, with rough brick siding and a glowing red and green sign advertising the bar. Situated on the corner, you were just about to head inside when Yoongi’s hand caught your arm.

“It’s this way.” He answered your confused look by tugging you gently down the alleyway right next to the bar.

“But I thought it was inside.” You glanced back behind you before looking back towards the dead ended alley.

Yoongi dropped his hand from your arm. “It is.”

“Ah, makes sense.” You nodded sarcastically, successfully drawing a smile from your escort.

“Be patient and you’ll see.”

True to his word, you saw what he meant when he came to a stop outside of a side door. There weren’t any signs or anything indicated what it led to, but you could take a guess as Yoongi pulled it open and gestured for you to enter first.

It was dark inside and you had to squint in the dim lighting in order to see anything. You were in what appeared to be some kind of entrance that reminded you of one of the speakeasies downtown. Though there wasn’t a soul in sight, just a staircase at the end of the short hall. Unless you counted the loud base of music pounding through your feet and straight to your bones. The door slammed shut behind Yoongi and then he was taking the lead towards the stairs.

The further down you went, the louder the music got until it was all you could hear. And once you got to the bottom of the stairs and turned into the room, you found out why. Bodies were packed wall-to-wall, some moving to the music pouring from the speakers and others nodding their heads with drinks in their hands. Red and purple lights made the room seem bigger than it actually was, made it easier to lose yourself in the crowd.

Yoongi had taken you to an underground club. Which just made you all the more curious about just what kind of show he was going to be performing in.

“Want a drink?” Yoongi’s voice, even though spoken directly in your ear, was barely distinguishable from the lyrics bleeding through the room.

You simply nodded, taking care not to bash your head into his nose from where he was leaning over for you to hear him. He said something you couldn’t hear, words lost to the crowd. But you assumed he wanted you to follow him when he started to merge himself into the throngs of people. Just when you thought that you’d have to try and fight your way through to keep up with him, he was reaching back to grab your hand.

Wrapped his slender fingers around yours without sparing you a second look.

He was just trying to make sure you didn’t get lost in the crowd. Yeah, that was it. There was no other reason for it, so therefore your heart had no reason to speed up. To thump in time with the bass as you followed behind him. Especially when the warmth from his palm slid into yours.

“What do you want?” Yoongi turned back to speak in your ear. Shit, you hadn’t even realized that you’d already reached the packed bar. So you forced yourself to focus on the two bartenders running around behind it, rather than the hand still in yours.

“Tequila.” You answered. Yoongi raised both eyebrows in surprise before turning back to the bar. With his eyes no longer on you, it made breathing a whole lot easier. And you turned your attention away from Yoongi’s slim back and towards the stage.

It was all the way on the other side of the room and you watched as a guy walked across it with a mic in his hands. The music was lowered and his voice cracked to life through the speakers. Whatever announcement he was making went in one ear and out the other because Yoongi turned back around with a plastic cup extended out towards you. His other hand was empty and you sent him a questioning look.

Whether or not he knew what you were silently asking, or was just making a general announcement, he answered your question. “I have to perform soon.”

You made an ‘o’ with your mouth and accepted the drink with a smile in thanks. “You still haven’t told me what you’re gonna be doing.”

You had to stand on your tippy-toes in order for Yoongi to hear you, which didn’t go unnoticed by him if the amused gleam in his eyes was anything to go by. “You’ll see.”

Which was exactly how you found yourself with another drink in your hands and your back leaning against the bar. If you were being completely honest, you hadn’t been sure what to expect. A lot of different things had popped into your mind about what kind of shows your partner liked to put on. Some ranging from completely ridiculous, to weird, to funny.

But none of them had been this.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things. A talented producer, a deep thinker, a musical genius.

Never would you have thought to add “rapper” to the list. You should have known, was a little surprised at yourself for not being able to guess. Like all other things Min Yoongi, he was incredibly good at it. Took to the stage like a natural. And you were completely awestruck, unable to look away the whole time he was up on that stage, letting words flow from his lips like some kind of poetic river.

Calm, yet bubbling over with the effortless way he captured the attention of everyone in the room. The track he rapped over was fast paced, but he had no trouble keeping up and keeping the crowd engaged at the same time. He performed three songs, but it wasn’t enough. And judging by the one last look at the crowd Yoongi took before exiting the stage, it wasn’t enough for him either.

Whoever took his place didn’t have one ounce of your attention. And maybe that was rude or whatever, but you didn’t care. Not when you caught sight of his blond head making its way towards you. He got stopped multiple times along the way by people congratulating him with pats on the back or short conversations.

By the time Yoongi finally made his way back to your side, your second drink was extended out to him with a grin on your face. You’d barely even taken a sip from it, so it was completely full and beginning to sweat water. “That was amazing!”

The performer on stage was loud, but you could tell that Yoongi heard you by the smile he tried and failed to hide behind the rim of the plastic cup. But you weren’t going to leave it at that, grabbing a hold of his shoulders and squeezing to make sure you got your point across. “Like, incredibly amazing! Why didn’t you tell me you could rap like that?”

“You never asked.” He shrugged. Yoongi wasn’t the type of person to feed off of compliments, you knew that. But that didn’t mean that he didn’t appreciate them. The way his onyx colored eyes glittered told as much. And when he tilted the plastic cup back and drained the contents, the confidence that flowed beneath his skin gave it away too. “You wanna get out of here?”

“Where are we going?”

“Patience, young padawan.”

A snort of amusement from the passenger side of your car had you throwing Yoongi a wink. He completely ignored you in favor of thumbing through the playlist on your phone. It was hooked up to the radio via bluetooth and ever since you’d left the underground club, he’d been focused on silently judging you for your music choices.

When Yoongi had suggested bailing on the club, he hadn’t really had a particular place in mind. Which you’d soon figured out the moment you stepped out the door. He’d taken the subway to the place, so you’d all but shoved him into your car before he had a chance to say no.

“You really have Ariana Grande on here?” He wiggled your phone in your peripheral and you would have rolled your eyes if you weren’t too busy merging off the freeway.

“What’s wrong with Ari?” You huffed in mock offense.

“Nothing.”

“I can literally hear the judgement in your voice.”

“Maybe you should focus on the road then.”

Now you really did roll your eyes. Though the bark of laughter that accompanied it showed your lack of annoyance. “I would if we weren’t already here.”

Yoongi looked up from your phone just as you were putting the car into park. His eyes squinted into the dark with a furrow of his eyebrows. “We’re at the beach?”

“Nope.” You popped the ‘p’ and turned off your car, quickly hopping out before you could fall victim to his flatline stare.

The scent of sea salt lingered in the semi-humid air and you paused for a moment to inhale deeply. There was nothing quite like the smell of the ocean, and when the passenger side door opened and closed, you rounded the car to wave Yoongi along. He caught up to you right as your shoe hit the wooden planks of the boardwalk. You’d had to park way back in one of the lots far away from the beach for whatever godforsaken reason.

Shopfronts, closed and shuttered by metal grates due to the late hour, greeted you as you walked down the path. And Yoongi’s presence at your side was calming. Hell, everything about that man was. Never would you have thought that about him, not at first. Not with the rocky way your friendship had started.

Neither would you have expected the warmth that bloomed in your chest everytime he looked at you with those pretty eyes of his. Or flashed you one of his patented gummy smiles. He’d somehow wormed a place into your heart with that sarcastic wit of his. No, the last thing you would have expected from your final project was this.

But you didn’t mind. Even if he didn’t feel the same way, only looked at you like a friend, you didn’t mind. Because you’d take anything he offered you. And if a friendship was all he was willing to give, that was okay too.

“Where are we going exactly?” Yoongi’s voice snapped you out of your thoughts and you glanced up at him to see that he was already looking at you.

“Do we need to have a destination?” You shot back with a wiggle of your eyebrows. “It’s all in the journey.”

He rolled his eyes skyward as if silently asking why me, but let a smile touch his lips anyway “And this journey leads to the beach I’m guessing?”

“Maybe.” You dragged out the syllables, nudging your shoulder with his playfully. “Don’t tell me you don’t like the beach.”

“Who doesn’t like the beach?”

“That’s exactly what I’m--whoa.” Your feet came to a halt right as you stepped out from between two shops, where the boardwalk met the beach. Yoongi stopped at your side, but you didn’t even notice.

Because you were too busy staring at the apparent concert that was being held further down the beach. Apparently the loud music you’d heard from the parking lot wasn’t from one of the many speakers placed throughout the boardwalk. Well, that would explain the lack of parking at least.

Even from where the two of you stood, you could tell that the crowd was huge. They took up a big chunk of the beach, bodies nothing but a dark mass in the distance as they danced to the music from the stage. You couldn’t tell who it was, not that far away. But the multicolored lights flashed into the sky like a beacon.

“I wonder who’s performing.” Yoongi’s mumble had you bending down to unlace your shoes. “What’re you doing?”

“You wanna know who’s performing?” Slipping off your socks, you threw both those and your shoes into your bag. Once it was closed up, you sent Yoongi a conspiratorial wink. “Let’s go find out.”

He didn’t move, just gave you a look before realization dawned on his face. “You want to sneak in.”

It was a statement, not a question, but you nodded your head anyway. “Come on, when will you ever have the chance to do something like this again. Don’t tell me you’re scared we’ll get caught.”

Yoongi scoffed, but leaned down to slip off his shoes in an uncharacteristic move. You knew he wasn’t much of a partier and didn’t do things like this very often. So the fact that he was caving to your suggestion had your mind whirling. “I’m just surprised, is all.”

“At what?”

A smirk was thrown your way as he stood back up, but that was all the answer you got. After all the time you’ve spent with the man, you’d like to consider yourself a Yoongi Whisperer. So that smirk probably meant something along the lines of: I’m surprised that you’re a super awesome badass.

Or something.

“Just come on.” You grabbed his hand without thinking, dragging him behind you onto the sand. When he failed to complain, you took that as a greenlight to continue doing so.

When his fingers linked themselves with yours, it took all you had to not falter in your steps. To pretend like you weren’t affected by such a thoughtless action. To calm the rapid beating of your heart.

The closer you got to the concert, the louder the music got, until you could hear the roar of the crowd over the artist on stage. It was EDM, or at least sounded like it. Of course, as soon as you got closer, you spotted your first hurdle. One you’d been unable to see from far away.

A chain link fence stood between the two of you and a night of fun. It had your shoulders deflating before you even realized it, and you turned to the blond at your side. “Should we climb it or something?”

Biting your lip, you eyed just how far up it was. Even if the two of you managed to climb it, there was no way that you wouldn’t be spotted by security. And being arrested was the last thing on your to-do list.

“Or.” Yoongi crossed over to the fence and wrapped his hands along the bottom of it. With a quick glance around to make sure that no one was looking, he lifted it up and back, bending it backwards with just enough space left at the bottom for someone to squeeze underneath.

There was no way that he would have been strong enough on his own to lift it, and a closer look had you snorting a laugh. Apparently the two of you weren’t the only ones who’d had the idea to sneak in.

“You going?” He questioned and you started forward before a smartass remark could leave his mouth.

The sand was cool beneath your body as you shimmied underneath the space between the fence and the ground. And once you were on the other side, you crouched down and grabbed the fence from Yoongi to pull back towards your side. “I’m surprised that you’re going along with this, to be honest. Don’t you hate music like this?”

He grunted as he crawled across the sand towards you. “You wanted to.”

“So?” Your voice was soft, but he was still able to hear you over the pounding bass. The fence dropped from your fingers once he was on your side, but you didn’t move, just stared up at him as he stood.

“So.” Yoongi started, extending a hand down to help you up. “Are you coming?”

His answer had warmth blossoming in your chest and a tiny smile blooming on your face. Had you reaching out to let him help you up off the sand. He didn’t let go while you brushed yourself off, but he did guide the both of you towards the writhing crowd, if only to avoid being spotted by security.

It was a good thing that Yoongi was a slim man, because it made slipping through the numerous dancing bodies closer towards the stage a whole lot easier. You’d made it to about the middle when he stopped and tugged you closer to join him in a pocket of space between two different groups of people. The scent of marijuana mixed in with sea salt from the ocean in a cocktail that usually accompanied things like that.

“Dance with me.” You spoke into Yoongi’s ear, ignoring the excited flush you felt at being so close to him.

“I can’t dance.” He stated, despite the hand he slipped around your waist and pressed into your back. Whether or not to move you out of the range of the group of girls dancing wildly behind you, or something else, you didn’t know.

Chest to chest, you’d be surprised if he couldn’t feel how fast your heart was beating. “Mm. I don’t believe you. Everyone can dance.”

“That’s a lie.” Yoongi’s lips were titled up at the corners and his gaze on you was soft. Gentle.

The flashing lights on the stage flickered through his dark colored eyes. Turned those once pools of onyx into a glittering galaxy that you couldn’t look away from. That hypnotized you like the beat that pulsed beneath your skin and drowned your ears.

“That’s not true.” Your mumble was lost to the crowd. Buried somewhere underneath the music as he moved closer. And the butterflies nestled deep in your gut fluttered their wings when his other hand cupped the side of your face.

Your eyes fluttered closed when his nose brushed yours and his breath fanned across your cheek. That was the only warning you got before his mouth was on yours. His lips were soft and he tasted like the strawberry chapstick he liked to wear. And the kiss, like everything Min Yoongi, was slow. Not in a lazy way. More like he was taking the time to savor it. To remember what your hair felt like as he slid his hand into it.

Or the way you involuntarily sighed into his mouth when his teeth caught your bottom lip. How your fingers found their way into the short hairs at the nape of his neck when you pulled him closer. How he’d had to hold back a laugh at the way you were standing on your tippy-toes in order to reach him.

You probably wouldn’t have pulled away and neither would he, if it weren’t for the rain that suddenly tore from the sky like an opened dam. Drenching anything and everything around it faster than you could blink. It had you forcing yourself away from the magnetizing pull of Yoongi’s lips to give him an eye crinkling smile.

“What was that for?” You didn’t care if you were getting wet.

Neither did he apparently, because he ran a thumb over the lips he’d just kissed, sending shivers down your spine. “Isn’t it obvious?”

“No. Break it down for me.”

He met your imploring gaze almost bashfully, eyes squinting from the rain. “I’ve liked you since practically the beginning of the semester.”

Your eyes widened in surprise. “What? Why didn’t you ever say anything?”

Yoongi shrugged. “I don’t know. I didn’t know how.”

Shaking your head in disbelief, you let out a small laugh. “I can’t believe you, Min Yoongi.”

He opened his mouth to respond when he was cut off by a loud clap of thunder. Both of you glanced up at the dark sky at the same time.

Everyone around you was either ignoring the torrential downpour or shrieking and attempting to use anything to shield themselves from getting wet. Once the sound of thunder echoed a streak of lightning, you knew what was about to happen next and turned to meet Yoongi’s eyes. He, like everyone else, was drenched and his blond hair stuck to the damp skin of his face. It had you grinning at the pout on his mouth and you leaned forward to press your lips to his one final time before pulling away.

“We should get out of here before everyone else decides to do the same.” You had to shout to be heard over both the rain and the noise from everything else. It was only a matter of time before the concert got either canceled or postponed due to the thunderstorm and you didn’t want to be caught in the middle.

“Yeah, let’s go.” Yoongi wiped water from his eyes and grabbed your hand to start navigating the hell out of there.

And as your eyes trained themselves to his slim back and your fingers interlocked themselves with his, you smiled. The lyrics that you’d been struggling so hard to write came to life beneath the fire in your chest. You had no one but the man in front of you to thank for the inspiration.

Min Yoongi was a lot of things.

A musical genius, a poet, a light in a sea of darkness.

Min Yoongi was nothing if not beautiful.

#bangtanarmynet #btsbookclub #ficswithluv #magicshopnet #yoongi #yoongi fic #r yoongi

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chalkrevelations · 4 years ago

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Episode 32 of Word of Honor, and once again, this is just. A LOT. A LOT is happening, and all of it is A LOT. Also, show, what is even happening? I have questions. A LOT of questions.

(Spoilers. Go ahead and scroll on by, then come back later, if you want to watch it unspoiled.)

BUT FIRST, before anything else, you know I have to yell about this for a minute because we once again see that the Gu Xiang/Cao Weining relationship and the Wen Kexing/Zhou Zishou relationship are the same relationship. We get the same scene with A-Xiang and Cao Weining – again – that we’ve already seen with Wen Kexing and Zhou Zishu, this time from Ep 27, with Fan Shishu in the role of Ye Baiyi. Fan Shishu (YBY) asks “Do you know who she (he) is?” and this time, Cao Weining knows, just as ZZS knew in Ep 27. Cao Weining (ZZS) literally throws himself in front of A-Xiang (WKX) to protect her (him). “Kill us both” (Ep 27). “If you’re going to hurt her, kill me first” (Ep 32). Fan Shishu, like YBY, eventually lets A-Xiang and Cao Weining go, despite having them in a position where he could do them in. Color palettes between the two couples in these scenes match again, with the younger couple being more intense this time – A-Xiang and Wen Kexing in pinks, Cao Weining and Zhou Zishu in blue. (ZZS is mainly in creams and grey, but the piping on his robes is a very light blue, I think the greys have a blue undertone to them, and when you stand him next to Chengling in more intense blue while he’s wearing that particular outfit, it really starts to pull out the blue of ZZS’s outside robe – you can see this at the end of Ep 26.) Between the way these relationships continue to mirror each other and the hairpin scene from the last ep, I honestly don’t know what our takeaway is supposed to be, other than that WKX and ZZS are essentially married.

I also find it interesting - although this almost seems like too much of a stretch to be anything other than coincidence - that we get a specific callback to Ep 27 in this episode, as Ep 27 is also when WKX talks about not wanting to lie to Chengling about who he is anymore, and this ep is when they finally (apparently) meet again after Chengling learns the truth.

Aaaand now A-Xiang is crying, so of course I’m crying. Aaaand then we have the mournful montage. Give me a minute. And some tissues. I notice how much of this mournful drunken montage is ZZS remembering all the times he was cranky with WKX. Oh, honey. No. That’s what you’re remembering, because you feel bad, but it’s not what he would remember at all, if he was looking back over his time with you. And even if he did, it would be with great fondness.

Yeah, so, if I haven’t mentioned, this episode is a LOT. We get a big confrontation between WKX and half the jianghu/the Scorpions/some of the Ghost Valley contingent, ZZS showing up to support his man, Fantastic Cranky Grandpa of my heart getting in his eleven cents, Chengling shooting one of his dads, and two yeets off a cliff. And that’s only 15 minutes into the episode. This is too much, show. And I have too many questions. Also some observations. Also some wild speculation, not just about the fact that Wen Kexing is not dead but also about how he may have (not) got that way. And not just because there’s still four episodes left, and it’s too early for him to be dead.

First a small observation but pretty significant, I think: WKX is NOT in his blood-red Ghost Valley master robes during this confrontation. In fact, I think we’ve seen this set of robes in happier days with Zhou Zishou and Chengling. Just noticing this. Also noticing WKX’s face when Shen Shen starts going on about WKX’s parents and how omg if they could see WKX now they’d die all over from the shame, and WKX’S expression is like, the fucking audacity of Shen Shen saying this, and if he could actually kill people with the power of his mind, Shen Shen would be twitching and frothing on the ground. Also noticing the complete change when WKX sees Chengling – it’s like Shen Shen ceases to even exist for him. Gong Jun, your face, it’s killing me. Anyway, I’m going to start wildly speculating here for a minute, because WKX is willing to let Chengling kill him, because he’s so tired and wants to stop fighting, but he’s going to kick everyone else’s ass who even tries it? And then Chengling is actually the one who shoots him and yeets him off the cliff? Is this a set up? Is Chengling in on this? Is he the one who’s supposed to “kill” WKX? If so, at what point did we get Chengling in on this? And who did it? Did Chengling send what’s his name, Jing Beiyuan’s guard, away on purpose at this particular point, because he knew ZZS would show up in time for this confrontation if he heard about Chengling’s reaction to the news about WKX? And do I actually believe Chengling is smart enough – and a good enough actor – to pull off any of this? (Look, I love our little goldbean plenty, but let’s face it, he’s not the brightest kid running around here.)

Also, my dudes. My clever little killers. Xie Wang and Wen Kexing. I am unwilling to believe that you two aren’t somehow still together on this in some way in order to fuck over Awful Yifu. Your antagonistic back and forth seems a little bit like playing roles. Xie Wang gives Awful Yifu a weird side-eye a few times when Awful Yifu talks about how tricksy and cunning WKX is, like maybe he’s reconsidering, and do not tell me you’re questioning and reconsidering whatever deal you’ve made with WKX, little gambler. Why does your Awful Yifu’s bs always work on you? This is really not the time to roll the dice again. I’m assuming A-Xiang is still the only one who knows about their tete-a-tete? If so, this is a side-take I never would have expected on “you don’t fail me, and I won’t fail you.” Honor among thieves? Stick to the plan, Xie’er, whatever the hell it is. Do not blink.

So then, Ye Baiyi shows up, and my immediate reaction is NO. My beloved cranky grandpa, don’t fuck this up, because whatever is going on seems to already have a lot of moving parts with a lot of places for things to go wrong! But … are you in on it, too? Have YOU coordinated with Chengling? (If so, maybe you should have warned him to expect ZZS’s wild-card self-yeet over the cliff’s edge, since you’ve already seen how self-destructive self-sacrificing these two can get over each other.) Making me even more suspicious, Ye Baiyi later proceeds to walk out of a banquet before even eating anything. This guy is walking away from food? There is no clearer sign in this ep that something is up.

Also, while we’re on the banquets, listen. I cannot be the only one who wants to punch Zhao Jing in the face during his interminable yapping during both post-fight banquets. This is one of those places where the show and the actor have done their job too well, because he is so dislikeable and so off-putting that I almost can’t bear to actually watch him. And yet, I can’t fast-forward, because what if I miss some info? Like the fact that … you know, I went back to watch this bit three times, and that is a very … interesting series of camera shots during the second banquet - after the toasts, just as a couple of randoms start advocating for Zhao Jing as head of the Five Lakes Alliance, and we move from Xie’er to Shen Shen to Chengling, all of them still standing, facing Zhao Jing after their individual toasts, all of them in a formation that’s almost caging him in from the front and both sides. It gets more interesting every time I watch it. Is … is Shen Shen also in on this, somehow?

See, I know that is a lot of wild speculation. I know Wen Kexing got yeeted off a cliff, and Ye Baiyi was busy catching Zhou Zishu. And we saw a body. And ZZS set that body on fire. But I also know that Liu Qianqiao was the person holding vigil outside the shed where the body was being held. And I know she’s the other person, besides ZZS, who we know of that knows the facemask disguise technique (in fact, didn’t she learn it from ZZS’s shifu?) We actually get reminded of this later on in this very episode. Which makes me wonder if that was actually WKX’s body, or somebody else, in the shed. Who “found” that body and recovered it? Was it a Scorpion or one of the Ghost Valley contingent? Also, where’s that key WKX was waving around, and why does no one seem to remember it?

Other things:

lol at A-Xiang’s reaction to Jing Beiyun talking about how ZZS used to ask him to set ZZS up with girls. Further lol at Jing Beiyuan, “And funny enough, he was NEVER interested in them. Welp, time for another drink!” Seriously, Qi Ye, we like you, you can absolutely stay.

Still at the banquets, Xie Wang seems discombobulated during a lot of this. And then when Awful Yifu calls him Zhao Xie’er in front of everybody, holy shit, he’s getting everything he ever wanted. Xie’er, you … you’re not going to fall for this again, are you? Please tell me you are not falling for this again, at what is likely a crucial moment. This is NO TIME to take another roll of the dice, little gambler. Stick with the plan, whatever the hell it is.

Oh, hey! Are we finally getting some backstory on Fantastic Cranky Grandpa? Oh. OH. “Our child?” What is up, my friend? (I did go back to Ep 16, when WKX calls Chengling “my child” while defending him against Ye Baiyi, and looking at the Mandarin subtitles, I can’t entirely figure out (with my Level 2 Duolingo Mandarin) all of the nuances of these two references, but it doesn’t look like they’re using the same words to describe these relationships.) So some further wild speculation: Apparently, Cranky Grandpa Fantastico is solitary drinking in the dark instead of feasting at the banquet, over someone who (he feels) foolishly wanted to save the lost souls in the Ghost Valley? And now he feels like fate is making fun of him? And he’s asking Dead Beloved what he would do in Ye Baiyi’s position? Ye Baiyi, is it possible that fate is making fun of you because you have found yourself in the position of saving a lost soul from the Ghost Valley? Also, Ye Baiyi, I’ve noticed the children have been turning you grey. I don’t think you had that grey streak when you showed up for the first Hero’s Conference, did you? In fact, I feel like you got offended when WKX talked shit about possible grey hairs on your head.

Duan Pengju, this asshole, omg … OMG. Well. I guess you got your confirmation, Xie’er. Were you really considering rolling the dice again? AT THIS POINT?

#wen kexing #zhou zishu #gu xiang #cao weining #zhang chengling #shen shen #xie wang #ye baiyi #liu qianqiao #zhao jing #word of honor #word of honor episode reax

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seijohsfairy · 4 years ago

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𝙿𝙴𝚃𝚄𝙻𝙰𝙽𝚃

he does his very best to give you everything, you know this better than most. so the least you can do is not get jealous. you don’t get jealous… just maybe get a little fussy instead.

.wordc. 4k+ tw (step)daddy, size kink, belly bulge, degradation, hairpulling, spit, jealousy

With his teeth in the crook of your neck with his strong arms looped around your -in comparison- tiny body, he pounds his hips up into you until your eyes roll back in your skull. “Needy- fucking- bitch,” the muffled grunts come with each thrust, and all you can do is keep your fingers stuffed into your mouth and holding onto the short hairs at the base of his skull. “Like having a cock too big to stuff your dirty, cockhungry cunt?”

“Yeah, love your— fat cock.” Each wet slap of your pussy being battered by a dick too big for you rings way too loud in the quiet of the otherwise abandoned room, his huge cock going so deep it pushes up against the edge of your poor walls. Your fingers and chin are covered in spit, eyes closed tight and tits bouncing with the motions, unable to even close your legs for a little reprieve. “So deep.”

The bench creaks against the motions. And he rests his forehead onto your shoulder for a moment to hold you down, breathing deeply. “Gonna cum?” His voice so low and gravelly, body radiating heat that leaves you both with sweat rolling down exposed skin. You think you nod in response, but it’s hard to tell when your head’s so cloudy you can’t tell left from right, trying to keep from crying out. “Wanted daddy’s cock so bad you had to beg for it like a whore, so you better.” Then he’s moving again, one hand dropping to your ass to help you along with the ruthless pace he sets in your wet slit.

“C-can’t,” you cry around your fingers when his chest brushes up against your overstimulated nipples, clenching around the heat and dripping all over him. “Wanna -quit, mhm-wan’cum. ‘S too big.” Your thighs strain with the effort to drop yourself at his rhythm, your muscles clenching more each time your clit rubs against the coarse hair around his cock. “So close, daddy!” Your voice, muffled and high pitched, is still no match for the lewd sounds that fill the room and his heavy grunts. You moan at the way his frown digs a little deeper, biting his lip in focus. “Yes, yes, ah-please!” With a few more thrusts, you drop down onto his cock all the way until it pushes against your cervix, and the tight coil in your belly snaps. “Sh- mhm— thankyouthankyou daddy!”

“Fuck,” he hisses, “milk my cock, slut.” Your walls clench around him so hard you see double, pulling your wet fingers out of your mouth to dig them into the hard muscles of his shoulders with a loud string of incoherent begs. And he follows close after, filling your belly with warmth until his thick cum spills out and makes even more of a mess. But he only stops until your body slumps entirely against his chest, so fucked out your toes tingle, and the blood rushing in your head is so loud you can’t hear anything else. He keeps you tight to his hot body, breathing deeply against your sticky skin.

Everything after that moves quicker, sadly. Your head is still pounding a little as he helps you off his lap and onto your feet, wiping your drool off your face and kissing your lips until you manage to lift your arms enough to get your shirt back on. You don’t even know how many minutes pass in silence as he helps you clean up, allowing you the time to come back to earth. “Tired?” he asks, and you nod along, collapsing against his chest with a deep whine.

“I don’t think I want to try walking for at least half an hour.” You stand and watch as he drops his boxers and digs through his bag for his gear, quick to put it all on. Though his grin grows wider the longer you stare at him, you’re not even trying to hide it. Jersey stretching over his wide chest and shoulders, before he tucks himself into fresh boxers and shorts.

“Enjoying yourself?” he chuckles when you bite your lip, nodding cutely. You go to stand onto the bench with a little sigh to motion him over, taking a brief moment to fix his hair as his large hand rests at the small of your back. Pretty hazel eyes watching you with a revering gaze. When you’re done, he clicks his tongue. “Gotta rush out there, pretty thing, I gotta go to warm-ups.” He presses a quick kiss to your pouty lips as he helps your underwear back up your body, but his gaze lingers for a moment too long for you to believe the responsible front he’s putting on. Even if he doesn’t admit it, the way his hands come to paw at your tummy says enough, pushing on it a little until you grab his wrist and squeak.

“Daddy!”

The wet squelch of his cum gushing out of you into the drenched fabric is enough to have heat rising to your face again. “Leaking my cum into those pretty panties?” You fake a frown, but enjoy the way his fingers trail up your body under his shirt. “Hm, that’s too bad.” The little purse of his lips quickly morphs back into a smile when you push his arms away from your body. “I’ll see you in a few hours,” he promises, stuffing his bag into the locker. Everyone’s definitely already warming up in the other gym. If anything you’re lucky that they haven’t come around to find their captain yet. “Cheer for me?”

“Of course, daddy,” you say back, eyeing him down a little longer. He really does look too damn unholy in the tight uniform, sending you a last little look that already has your insides warming again.

There’s very little that can make you jealous. You’ve won over a lot of obstacles to be with Meian the way you are, and though it’s technically a secret, the gazes his teammates send you when you cheer for your daddy or come around training a bit earlier than you should to watch him are far from unknowing. Of course the large majority of the crowd doesn’t know though, so it’s easy to blend into the cheers of the supporters. In all black and gold, there’s few things you enjoy more than showing off to everyone what you mean to him, jumping and cheering from the stands. You don’t care that they don’t know who you are, or that some of his fans send daggers into your back with their glares.

After all, it’s not for nothing that your skirt shows off the bruises and hickeys on your thighs, his jacket falling way down your body like it could be a dress. The number four on the back also painted on your face as you wave your banner excitedly back and forth. He sends a quick glance back, eyebrows furrowed to look for your face in the mess of people, and grins when he spots you. You wave and smile, letting your heart make a jump when he winks at you, then turning back to the team. This little game between you two is nothing new— hell, most of the players have their own little routines. The first set went by so quickly, and your side of the area is ecstatic, buzzing with excitement.

But as the whistle rings, there’s a distinct murmur right behind you that is harder to ignore by the second. “He winked this way, did you see?” “Who did? Him?” “The Captain, number 4. Meian Shugo.” You really try your best to ignore them, try to watch the game progress below you, but it’s so hard when they seem to be only one of two rows behind you. And loud at that. “At— that girl over there that’s wearing his number, you think? She looks way young.” “I know he got divorced not too long ago, you think that’s his new girl? What a shame.” The longer the conversation continues, the more you have to fight the urge to turn around, tapping your foot on the floor to quell your nerves.

“Ugh, just imagine what a man like that can do,” one of the girls sighs after a while, and even the man to your side turns around to give them a little glare. “What? Are we not allowed to talk?” she hisses, cutting her argument short when the man turns back at the sound of another whistle, the opposing team coming up to serve. They are clearly not here for the enjoyment of the sport, and though you can understand it to a degree, there’s a certain self consciousness that creeps up your spine when they continue, under their breath. “Whatever, even if he has a girlfriend, that doesn’t mean we can’t go say hi after the match. I wanna know what he’s like with a body like that.” “Yeah, same. I’d love to see what’s underneath those shorts. Ride him until he’s out of breath.”

The shrill laugh of the girls is all you can hear through the cheers, clinging a bit harder to the banner in your hands. And it’s so stupid to get jealous, but the way they talk about him hits a part of you that you don’t like giving into. After all, you’re living in the same house as him and currently have his cum soaking into your panties, but no one is allowed to know. And you’re not so sure if that’ll ever change. “If that’s really his girlfriend, I feel bad for him. She looks like she never takes charge in anything, let alone the bedroom.” Her friend snickers. “You’re so right, poor guy.” MSBY suddenly scores a point, knocking you out of your daze when the entire crowd jumps forward in cheers, squishing you to the bannister a little more. And Meian smacks the grey-haired spiker on the back with a smile, before turning back towards the stands to send you another glance.

But the smile you manage to send him is only superficial, fisting your hands into his jersey a bit tighter. The rest of the match continues mostly as normal after, with you ending up waiting patiently outside the changing rooms. And though you know you shouldn’t let it unnerve you, though you know it’s just simple gossip among friends, their words stick to the forefront of your thoughts while he keeps his distance as long as he’s with the team and through the crowd of interviewers until you both get into the car.

You get into the driver as he slumps into the passenger seat, exhausted and ready to get out of the mess of loud people to go home and sleep it off as soon as possible. “Don’t fall asleep yet, daddy, I won’t be able to get you out of the car.” You start the car with a few glances to the side of his face, a tired but contented smile on his lips when you back out of the parking lot and away from the mass of people, an agreeing hum low and calm in between you two for the first time in a few hours. Only then does his large hand find it’s way to your skin again, dropping into your lap to draw soft circles onto the inside of your thigh.

“I missed you, baby.”

“Yeah,” you drop your bottom lip from between your teeth, “missed you too.”

When you wake up with a jolt, the first thing you notice is how tight your chest feels. You’re hot all over, slotted against his chest on your side, and judging by how wet you are you’ve been this way for a while. Flushed, and your belly awfully empty. And you’ve learned what happens if you take care of yourself, definitely not in the mood to risk it. So you do the only thing you can do and shift your hips back more, pressing your ass against the bugle in his boxers. No wonder you woke up hot and bothered. “Hmm,” you whine a little when you push back more and rub your covered pussy up and down his center. You can’t help it, you want daddy’s cock more than anything right now.

It doesn’t take long for your motions to shake him awake, definitely when you bring your hand down between your legs to rub up against his half hard cock, grabbing him through the fabric. A deep rumble falls from his chest when you pull the boxers down enough to let his dick out, spitting onto your hand to grab for him. You rub your wet palm over the head of his cock a few times before wrapping your fingers around him— as much as you can at least with the size of it, still rocking your hips back against him and getting more wet by the second. “What d’ya think you’re doin,” he sighs under his breath as he cracks one eye open, grunting at the way you’re rubbing your desperate cunny along the length of him over and over.

“Woke up needing you so bad,” you bring out, just letting your panties get more and more wet the longer you continue. And his cock twitches in between your legs as you work your fingers around, rubbing the precum around all over the pretty head of his cock until he bucks his hips back against you. It presses up against you more the harder you try, tilting your hips to allow him to touch your clit over and over. “Need daddy’s cock inside,” you admit under your breath, shifting away for just a second to rid yourself of the fabric sticking to your pussy. When you’re barely done with that he’s already pulling you back to his body to push his cock between your folds a few times without actually going in. It makes your entire body heated, hairs standing on end and getting more slick by the second. You grab onto his wrist for support in pushing back against him. “Ha-nhg, please-daddy feels so good, so warm.”

You even shift your legs apart best you can to get more friction and access, something that makes him hum. His chest pressed up against your back makes you feel even smaller, packed muscles and strong arms caging you in against him. “You want it so bad, baby?” He shifts onto one elbow behind you to look at your face, how you’re tearing up with the overwhelming heat and need setting your body alight. The hot, leaking head pushes against your hole and pushes in a tiny bit, only to pull back and slap his fat cock against your pussy with a wet ‘pap’ each time. “Wanna have it in here, fill you up, filthy girl?”

“Yes!” you instantly reply, shivering when he uses his free hand to shove your shirt up your body to reveal your tits, rising and falling desperately against the heat. He rubs his thumb over each a few times, then grabbing your tits into his giant hand and squeezing softly. Still teasing the heavy head of his giant cock between your legs while you’re leaving your shiny wetness all over him. Your hips instinctively push back against him when he brings the head back to your hole, trying to lower onto it, only to be stopped by his hand on your hip. You can’t help the whine that comes out at that, still pushing back as much as you can.

“Pleasepleaseplease, daddy!! Ah-ple-hng.” You push his hand back away from your hip and reach between your legs again to push him back up to your dripping pussy again, slowly starting to sink yourself onto him. It never goes easy because he’s just that big, but the stretch of just pushing back on him is enough to have you moaning out, dropping your face into the plush. “Please, want your big -hm- cock. Wanna have daddy ruin me.” He keeps you in place again though, slowly rocking his hips around in circles to stretch you out more, popping back out again and you have to hold the overwhelming urge to kick your feet, instead arching your back and leaning into his hand when he pinches your nipples hard. “J-Fu— Wan’it, wan’it!”

“Oh, the fucking brat knows what she wants?” he mumbles back as he guides himself back between your legs, not holding you down this time. Instead he just grabs onto your thigh as he rolls his hips, your eyes stinging with wetness. “Go ahead then. Got my cocksleeve all needy and worked up and I haven’t even done anything yet.” It’d be easier to ignore his taunting tone if it wasn’t paired with a thrust, shoving another two thick inches into your gushing cunny until you’re crying and shaking on his cock, not sure if you want to get back off or not. The stretch is so painfully good, walls fluttering around the wide intrusion desperately. You roll your hips though, whimpering at the feeling of him spearing you open so wide. It’s not fair. You had him earlier today, but it feels like you’re being stretched for the first time all over again.

“Daddy, please, wanna cream around it, have it break me open please,” you reach back to cling to his forearm, taking a few deep breaths and crying out when it causes his cock to slide even further in. But for as much as you’re struggling, you know that there’s nothing more you want than all of him filling you out. “Need it, ack, d-deep. More, daddy, quickly!” you beg, forcing yourself back and onto him more again, your eyes rolling back in your skull when you arch your back and his cock presses up so good against your gummy, drooling walls. “Please use my holes as you need, ‘s all for you, daddy.” At this point you’re so fed up not being able to take more at once that you pound your little fist onto his thigh a few times and shake your head through your tears, pulling his hand in between your legs. “Put it— mhm-ahh, deeper, please!”

The little request along with the way you roll your hips back on half of his cock like a bitch in heat leaves him stunned, gripping you close by your belly as the hand between your legs rubs messy circles over your clit. “Fuck— What’s got you so fucking desperate?” he hisses when you clench on his cock again, pushing in more at your whimpers. “That feel good?” The way he’s filling you up alone is enough to have your belly tightening like crazy, going crazy at the touches to your puffy nub.

“Yes-hng, yeah, more, moremoremore. Want it all,” you nod, squeezing your own tits and breathing, feeling how he slides in further and further and the messy, quick motions of his two fingers to your clit go even faster. “All of you, ple-ah!” Same time as you try to catch your breath a little, going lightheaded, he bottoms out inside you with a hard thrust, and the coil in your belly pulls so tight you can feel it all the way to your feet. He keeps rubbing, rutting his cock almost in place to stretch you out a little more, but you don’t even get to warn him as your eyes pull closed and your pussy clenches around him like a vice. “Fuckfuckfuckfuck— daddy!” You squirm as your orgasm travels through you, vision spotting black and white and that enormous heat filling your belly.

But you barely take a break to breathe before you’re turning over your shoulder to lean into his collarbones, grabbing onto his shoulder and breathing heavily against his skin. “Daddy’s cock is mine, all mine. Only for me,” you bring out, lifting your leg over his thigh for better access, tears being smushed around your cheeks. He obliges though, pulling out and pushing back inside faster, inside your sensitive cunny with the flushed head of his cock kissing your cervix each time he fills you out.

Your brabbling is barely coherent anymore, sticking so close and rolling your hips as best as you can. “Only belongs inside me. Your pretty cock’s hmh-all mine.” Though you can’t see it though your tears, his lip is pulled between his teeth, pretty eyes focussed on the way your face changes with each thrust, in awe of your words. You’re not normally this mouthy, but the words just keep coming.“‘M gonna take all of your cum like a g-good- girl,” you moan and whine, and he pulls you even closer by your waist to thrust up into you a bit faster. “No one else.”

“Yeah,” he hums, now using his thighs to fuck up into you and to make your tits bounce, the bed banging against the wall with each thrust. He grabs onto your hair to keep your back arched for him and presses a kiss to your wet cheek, moaning. “S’all yours, pretty baby.”

“No one else -ah-can touch your cock or sit on it, okay?” you mumble, mindlessly nodding your head when he grunts your name under his breath, the pace now knocking the air out of your lungs. “Just— your good girl- ah, ah, ah, f-forever! Wanna feel your cock up here until you can’t give any more, daddy!” You manage to bring your hand to your belly to push a little against the bulge that shows each time he bottoms out, balls and hips slapping against you and the wetness of your creamed pussy around his cock filling the room.

“Shit- Look at you being all possessive,” Meian takes a deep breath and brings his hand back between your legs again, cock twitching inside you. Each thrust of his fat cock inside your ruined walls brings you back closer to your high, and the heavy, dirty words he growls when your walls flutter around him. “Little, slutty cunt drooling all over me— fuck, baby, taking me so well. You like feeling daddy’s huge cock filling you up to the brim?”

“Yes, feels so good! So big, hng-good- inside, ah— daddy, daddy!” The heat between your bodies building so hot you can’t think straight. All you know is that you’ve never felt so good, his length driving you open and bulging your belly so perfectly. Your heartbeat is so loud between your ears, neck and back held tight in place and your ass jiggling with his relentless fucking. “Ahng! Ah, ah, ah, always want to cream on your fat cock, no one else gets to. Only me- f-for daddy!” More, tighter, it builds to a peak again like the rhythmic pounding of the headboard into the wall, your cries choked and drool covering your lips, swollen from your consistent biting. “Ah- haaaa, please, wanna cum on your cock again. Gonna—”

“Already?” He brings out a surprised huff, but keeps going and even faster, close as well.

“Mhm! Ah- yes, love your big cock so much, feels -mhm- s’good!” you cry as you’re bounced on his cock all pathetically, squeezing your own tits and nipples for the most amount of stimulation. It’s inevitable when he notices how close you are and rubs your clit even faster again, making your legs shake. “S’g-good, please, wanna c-cum. Don’t stop, don’t stop, wan’ -hmng- d- ah, cumming! Cum—ming-hng -ah, ahng!”

You hit your high even harder than before, vision completely blacking for a few seconds as he helps you through it without hesitating, thrusting your spasming walls open again and again and again. Pushing up against your cervix a few more times with pleasurable pain that leaves your body shaking and pussy creaming around his cock all over again. “Daddy, daddy, daddy!” you mumble out, as he spurts his hot ropes of cum into your pussy, fucking it into you until you’re both twitching from overstimularion.

He lets go of your hair and slumps into you then, keeping you warm in his arms and pulling you close to his sweaty chest. Both of your hearts hammering in different patterns against your rib cages, his cock kept inside you. It’s Meian who catches his breath first, slowly untangling himself from your body to look down at you through narrowed eyes, ever so slowly pulling out of you after all. “Baby,” comes his chastising tone first, and you whine at it, but he’s quick to keep you just as close to press his lips to your jaw. “That was so stupidly hot,” he breathes, “locking around my cock like a fuckin’ vice.” You crack open one eye to watch him inspect you top to bottom, then playing with the edge of the shirt still shoved up above your tits. “What the fuck was that all about?”

But you just give him a lazy grin, and snuggle closer to his chest. “I’ll tell you later, daddy.”

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saylors-universe · 4 years ago

Text

All Hands on Deck, five

Rowaelin Cruise Vacation AU

masterlist here

word count: 5234

[This is an interactive story! I will include Authorʻs Notes throughout the chapters to inform you when to start a particular song that you can find here in the All Hands on Deck playlist (Also can be found on the masterlist). For the best experience, listen with headphones, AND FOLLOW ALONG WITH THE STORY. Please try to use your imagination when listening and reading - live through the words. Have fun :) - Saylor]

This week has been HELL. Sorry for the late upload :( Anyways, enjoy the chapter, thanks for reading <3

Day 4 - AT SEA - “Todays Cruise Activity: SCAVENGER HUNT from 1-3, Find an activities staff for more info!”

- Aelin wakes in a soft, ivory, long-sleeve undershirt, light blue dress with a matching white apron. Confused by her attire, she finds two large books in her embrace, like she had cuddled with them in her sleep. -

[A.N.] Play “Beauty and the Beast Medley” by BYU Vocal Point feat. Lexi Walker now, follow along, and let your imagination put on a show. Find playlist here.

- Recognizing that sheʻs alone in her dark cabin, she leaves her room and notices no one in the dim, candle-lit hallway. She searches for any sign of life throughout the corridors, navigating through the different levels until she appears in front of the bakery, responsible for divulging her deep cravings of chocolates and treats. -

Aelin: LITTLE TOWN, ITʻS A QUIET VILLAGE

EVERYDAY LIKE THE ONE BEFORE

LITTLE TOWN, FULL OF LITTLE PEOPLE

WAKING UP TO SAY

- Suddenly, as if on cue, a parade of crew and staff appear in a flash mob. -

Cruise Staff: BON JOUR, BON JOUR

- A baker stands behind the counter, kneading dough. -

BON JOUR, BON JOUR, BON JOUR

Aelin: THERE GOES THE BAKER WITH HIS TRAY LIKE ALWAYS

THE SAME OLD BREAD AND ROLLS TO SELL

EVERY MORNING JUST THE SAME

SINCE THE MORNING THAT WE CAME

TO THIS POOR PROVINCIAL TOWN

Baker: “Good Morning, Belle”

- Aelin, puzzled by what is happening and perplexed by why she is compelled to sing, magically transports to The Antica. She is ushered by Emrys and Luca in their cooking attire, along with the rest of the ensemble, who seemed to have rehearsed a big musical number. -

Emrys: BE OUR GUEST, BE OUR GUEST

PUT OUR SERVICE TO THE TEST

TIE YOUR NAPKIN ROUND YOUR NECK, CHERIE

AND WE PROVIDE THE REST

SOUP DE JOUR, HOT HORS DʻOEUVERS

WHY, WE ONLY LIVE TO SERVE

TRY THE GREY STUFF, ITʻS DELICIOUS

DONʻT BELIEVE IT? ASK THE DISHES

THEY CAN SING, THEY CAN DANCE

AFTER ALL, MISS, THIS IS FRANCE

AND A DINNER HERE IS NEVER SECOND BEST

GO ON UNFOLD YOUR MENU

TAKE A GLANCE AND THEN YOUʻLL

BE OUR GUEST, OUI, OUR GUEST, BE OUR GUEST

Ensemble: BE OUR GUEST, BE OUR GUEST

OUR COMMAND IS YOUR REQUEST

ITʻS TEN YEARS SINCE WE HAD ANYBODY HERE

WEʻRE OBSESSED

WITH YOUR MEAL, WITH YOUR EASE

YES, INDEED, WE AIM TO PLEASE

WHILE THE CANDLESTICKʻS STILL GLOWING

LET US HELP YOU, WEʻLL KEEP GOING

- They all line up and begin a grand kick line. -

COURSE BY COURSE, ONE BY ONE

TILL YOU SHOUT, “ENOUGH, IʻM DONE”

THEN WEʻLL SEND YOU OFF TO SLEEP AS YOU DIGEST

TONIGHT YOUʻLL PROP YOUR FEET UP

BUT FOR NOW, LETʻS EAT UP

BE OUR GUEST, BE OUR GUEST, BE OUR GUEST

PLEASE, BE OUR GUEST

- Aelin is completely taken aback by the magnificent performance put on by the crew. In awe, she is transported once more to the elegant ballroom, but now she is fitted with a dazzling, gold ballroom gown. A dashingly, groomed Rowan approaches Aelin, wearing a charming black tux. He offers his hand, in silent question for a dance. She places her hand in his and he guides them to the center of the floor where they begin to waltz. -

Aelin: TALE AS OLD AS TIME

TRUE AS IT CAN BE

BARELY EVEN FRIENDS

THEN SOMEBODY BENDS, UNEXPECTEDLY

- Lorcan/Elide, Aedion/Lysandra, Dorian/Manon join them on the dance floor, following along in the waltz as Fenrys and Connal stand by beatboxing. -

JUST A LITTLE CHANGE

SMALL TO SAY THE LEAST

BOTH A LITTLE SCARED

NEITHER ONE PREPARED

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

EVER JUST THE SAME

EVER A SURPRISE

EVER AS BEFORE

EVER JUST AS SURE

AS THE SUN WILL RISE

CERTAIN AS THE SUN

TALE AS OLD AS TIME

SONG AS OLD AS RHYME

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

TALE AS OLD AS TIME

SONG AS OLD AS RHYME

BEAUTY AND THE BEAST

WHOA-OH

“WAKE UP YOU FREAK”

Aelin lurches awake, back in the comfort of her own bed, Manonʻs long, sharp nails digging into her skin.

“OW!,” Aelin massages the crescent indents in her arm.

“You were singing in your sleep ... really loudly. Lys came over to make sure you werenʻt dying, and took a few embarrassing videos of you,”

Aelin murmurs a defensive sigh and seeks refuge under her comforter, reflecting on her dream, What the fuck? Why did I dream of Rowan? She convinces herself that her subconscious was just playing tricks on her and decided to leave their past in the past. Given the new circumstances, they were merely co-workers, sort of, and nothing would happen between them, well not again. Sheʻs learned what happens when you fall for a Whitethorn, you get your heart broken.

She will never forget that afternoon. Rowan had received a large envelope package from Orynth University, his dream school. Aelin, her parents, Maeve, Rowansʻ aunt and legal guardian since the passing of his parents when he was young, his whole family, all gathered in her small living room while he read out his acceptance letter. He was so excited. Not wanting to ruin his news with the sad announcement of her rejection letter, she plastered on a bright smile and consumed the happy energy of the night.

Once the party turned down, he led her outside on her porch. He knew her better than anyone and could tell that something had been off. She confessed in sobs, excusing that she did not want to take the attention away from his amazing opportunity. He immediately offered to apply to the local college, or other universities in the area, or get a job, anything to stay near her. She forbade him, he had just been accepted to his dream college, where he had been talking about going all his life. She refused to hold him back from his dream so she brought up the option of splitting up, which caused his turn to cry.

After hours of tears, talks, and “i love you, to whatever end,” they both agreed to end things, which broke her heart even more. She knew it was mainly her decision, he would have done anything he could to be with her, done long distance, found a different school, anything, but she couldn't let him pass up this opportunity. She wouldn't have been able to live with herself if she had trapped him in their relationship, no matter how much they loved each other, sometimes the best thing you could do for the ones you love, is let them go.

The most painful part was watching him leave. Waving him goodbye as he went up the escalator to security of the airport, praying that he didn't look back. He was her first love, she gave her heart to him. They both had decided to end things, but a part of her hated him for leaving, even though she made him. He left. He left her. He left their dreams. He left their plans. He left their future. He left for his dream, his future. She made him leave. She hated herself most of all.

Now here they are, eight years later, stuck on the same boat and brought together again by Lorcan Salvaterre nonetheless. In spite of the years with other lovers, the years of not keeping in touch, they were in love once, completely in love. Once youʻve had that kind of love, you never stop loving them, they will always carry a piece of your heart. And damn him if he has more than just a piece, Aelin vowed.

Her mind wandered to the song he played in the ballroom just the other day. “Do you remember when, midnight drives when youʻd sing, Iʻd play you songs you were in...Do you remember when, with Rome below us that day, you said ʻI wish we could stayʻ?” She didn't want to read too much into it, but the song had to be about her. Right? How many people could he have serenaded on a late night drive? How many girls confessed their love for him under the stars and moonlight by the Trevi fountain? “Do you remember when?” Does she remember? How could she ever forget?

Before she could over-analyze the situation any further, Manon pulled the comforter from her bed. Aelinʻs body went in shock from the sudden lack of warmth protection, the brisk midday cool kissing her skin, and groans a very unladylike curse.

“Time to get up sleeping beauty, oh Iʻm sorry, Belle I mean,” Manon heaves into cackles. Aelin swears that in another life, Manon was a witch, wicked and ruthless.

In a very unusual, chipper mood, Manon getʻs Aelin up to speed on their plans for the day. She had gotten word of a scavenger hunt Dorian was putting on and eagerly volunteered their friend group to participate.

The two got ready for the rest of the day and gathered their friends to grab some brunch before their fun activity. While settling into Emrysʻ section of the bar, a few fans tracked them down, asking for pictures and autographs. Meeting their fans had always been Aelinʻs favorite part of what they do, seeing people enjoy their music and support them. Luca treats them to some bacon and eggs, and they snag some fresh chocolate croissants from the nearby bakery. They stay and share many stories and laughs between the court and the chefs, until it is time to find Dorian and begin the scavenger hunt.

Aelin wasn't surprised when Manon had been the one to locate him. She couldn't tell if this would be just another chase for Manon. In the past, sheʻs had a difficult time making attachments with people, everyone but Elide it seems. A part of her hopes that Manon would pursue an actually relationship with him, from what she could tell so far, he had a dark, wild spirit about him, one that would challenge her antics quite well.

“Good afternoon everyone, weʻre just waiting on one more group,” Dorian flashed a wicked grin and a flirty wink in Manonʻs direction. Aelin watched her friendʻs complexion redden and blush as the Cadre arrived, looking as daunting and intimidating as ever.

“Okay letʻs get started shall we? You guys have signed up for the adult scavenger hunt,” he passes out a list of items, “so how this works is you guys will be split up into...,” he counts the nine of them, “two groups. Each groupʻs goal is to take a picture of someone in the group with an item on the list, different items vary on points given based on difficulty or creativity. Without a member of your team in the photo, it will not get points. You guys have two hours and then we will meet back here to go over the photos and assign a winning group. Winners get free drinks at our private island port,” they cheer at the prospect of free alcoholic beverages.

Dorian splits them up into teams. Team one being Elide, Lorcan, Rowan, Connal, and Lysandra. Team two: Aelin, Manon, Fenrys, Aedion, and Dorian adds himself to even out their numbers. Dorian looks at his timer, “Two hours starting...Now!”

Both teams, consisting of extremely competitive adults, disperse to huddle up with their groups and assess the list of items to find and capture.

TAKE A PICTURE WITH....

- The shipʻs steering wheel (10 points)

- A ship staff member AND team member with a chef hat on (5 points)

- Someone playing the piano (3 points, 5+ bonus for video)

- A King and a Queen (5 points)

- Spa brochure signed by spa employee (5 points)

- A staff member (the higher rank, the more points)

- Someone on your team kissing a stranger (10 points)

- Yellow Duck (5 points)

- Poker chips (3 points)

- Someone on your team posing on a stripper pole (5 points)

- Drink umbrella (3 points)

- Towel animal (3 points)

- Someone wearing a sea sickness patch (3 points)

- A Conga line (5 points)

- A member of your team in the pool (5 points)

- Each member of your team with a different drink (10 points)

- Someone on your team playing mini golf (5 points)

- Someone on your team using exercise equipment (5 points)

- The room numbers for the following rooms: 829, 318, 560 (3 points)

- Ice Cream cone (3 points)

- Someone with a bad sunburn (5 points)

- Someone dancing inappropriately (3 points, +5 bonus for video)

- 3 different food menus (3 points)

- A performer in full costume with a mask on (3 points)

- Someone in a bikini with the life preserver ring (5 points)

Aedion takes charge as group leader. They collectively decide to find the rooms 829, 318, and 560 first since it seemed like the most straightforward, and easiest task. The five of them find the room 318 first, take a group selfie in front of the room number, then proceed to do the same with the remaining rooms, ending with 829.

They discuss going to their rooms quickly to change into swimsuits, thinking forward to a few of the scavenger hunt items that require either a change of attire, or the possibility of getting wet. Aelin and Manon retreat to their room and change into flattering bikinis, Fenrys and Dorian to their respective rooms to change into swim trunks, and Aedion to his, right across the hall.

Fenrys and Dorian, both shirtless and in all their glory, meet the girls in front of their door. “Wow, you look amazing,” Aelin overhears Dorian compliment Manon. The two go off into their own little world, leaving Aelin and Fenrys to get to know each other better. The two immediately click. Fenrys was the perfect balance of funny and flirty, and that kept a beaming smile and standby laugh on Aelinʻs demeanor. They shared a common sense of humor and both were very quick and witty, so they got along very well.

Aedion walks out of his cabin in the silliest blue and yellow duck swimming trousers. “Forgot I brought these,” he fibs, his face plastering a bright ruby shade. The four stay silent for a few seconds, really trying to hold in their laughter. Aelin was the first to break and the rest followed.

“Ha-ha, laugh all you want, but I just got us 5 points,” he pulls out his phone and takes a selfie of him in his swim trucks, pointing out the yellow duck. “I also snapped a pic with the towel animal in our room, so thatʻs checked off.”

Whenever room service came by to turn in their room, theyʻd leave towels intricately folded into cute animals, todayʻs was a small elephant.

“Okay whatʻs next boss?” Fenrys says once calmed down.

Aedion reviews the list once again and the his head darts up, “Hey Ace, youʻre using those sea sickness patches right?”

“Everyday,” she nods and then he whips his phone around to get a selfie with her, folding her ear to show the small, circular patch behind.

“Okay weʻve got the rooms, the towel animal, the yellow duck, and the seasickness patch. Good start guys. Fen you know where the gym is?”

“Yes, sir,” he answers, flexing his biceps. Manon rolls her eyes and falls in line when Fenrys guides the team to the gym onboard. It was a large, well equipped workout room, only a few people occupying different machines. Treadmills lined the mirror wall, cycle bikes adjacent to those. There were squat racks, dumbbells, bench presses, pull up bars, lat pulldown machines, leg press machines, pretty much everything Aelin used in her normal, rigorous routine.

Aelin adjusts the squat rack to her height, leveling it at around her chest height, and loads 250 lbs. to the bar. The mens eyesʻ widen, in disbelief that this quaint creature could support that much weight. Aedion knew however, that she had been training all her life. Physical fitness had always been important to her so she made sure she worked out regularly and vigorously. She turns back to Fenrys, “Spot me?”

“My pleasure,” he purrs expecting to rescue this damsel in distress who is in way over her head. He takes position right behind her. With Aelin in just her bikini and Fenrys his trunks, his bare, sculpted chest was flush behind her bare back, her exposed legs guarded by his.

Manon opens her phone, prepared to capture the task on video, also hoping to capture Fenrys and Dorianʻs expression. Aelin balances the bar across her shoulders, lifts the bar and steps back from the rack. She manages about eight reps of correctly formed squats with ease, Fenrys following down with her in every one.

She hears the gym door open, Rowan and his team had the same idea and came to use some exercise equipment to check it off their list. Their glances met once in the mirror, then quickly, deliberately broke. She canʻt quite explain why she suddenly felt guilty, as if she had been caught doing something wrong, being in the position she was with Fenrys. So she returns to the rack and sets the bar down, finally starting to feel some burn in her glutes.

“Damn Aelin, thatʻs impressive,” Dorian praises.

“Thanks, letʻs get out of here and go find more of our items.” They leave the gym, letting the other team to make use of the space.

They were near the casino and club so Dorian suggested they find what items they could there. Finding and snapping a photo with poker chips were a breeze. They ran across a stripper pole in the dance club and Fenrys stopped to model a sexy, scandalous pose on the pole and Aelin held the photoshoot, both of them giggling endlessly.

The team found the show girl performers walking around the club in their full outfit and masquerade mask. Aelin snapped a photo with two of them wrapped around Fenrys shoulders.

Drawing from the same chaotic, wild energy, Aelin and Fenrys started a conga line in the club to which Manon, Dorian, Aedion and many strangers added onto. Aelin at the front of the line, selfie recorded a crazy, upbeat video of the dance.

The team takes a breather at the bar, trusting the bar tender with the choice of drink for each person as long as she made each drink different. They also requests that one came with an umbrella. Fenrys, being friendly and personable as always, makes conversation with the bartender Ansel, sliding a few flirty remarks in here and there. She takes note of his group and promises to take good care of them, she says with a wink.

Ansel prepares their drinks based on what she felt from each person, giving Aedion a Sazerac, Dorian the AMF (Adios Motherfucker), Manon the Aunt Roberta, Fenrys a jungle juice with an umbrella, and Aelin a Tequila Blue Blazer that she lit on fire. They took a group selfie with their drinks, the umbrella and Ansel, then downed their drinks.

After another strong drink, Aelin starts to feel a little buzzed. She grabs Manon and they take stage on one of the clubʻs platforms, matching the rhythm of the loud music. They dance with each other, on each other, skin on skin, lips nearly touching, earning the attention of most of the men in the room. Itʻs Fenrys turn to be behind the camera, recording the show, and he enjoys every second of it.

Their team leader does his duty and puts the pin in their fun, “We better go look for the last few things on the list, Dorian how much time do we have?”

“A little less than an hour”

“Come on guys,” Aedion gathers his team members like a chaperoning parent.

Aelin has a light bulb moment and shares, “Oh I know where we can find a piano,” she leads them to the ballroom, the grand piano vacant and begging to be played. She sits at the keys, closes her eyes and plays.

[A.N.] Play “Symphony (feat. Zara Larsson) - Acoustic Version” by Clean Bandit now, follow along and let your imagination do itʻs job. Find playlist here.

- Aedion starts recording. -

Aelin: IʻVE BEEN HEARING SYMPHONIES

BEFORE ALL I HEARD WAS SILENCE

A RHAPSODY FOR YOU AND ME

AND EVERY MELODY IS TIMELESS

LIFE WAS STRINGINʻ ME ALONG

THEN YOU CAME AND YOU CUT ME LOOSE

WAS SOLO, SINGINʻ ON MY OWN

NOW I CANʻT FIND THE KEY WITHOUT YOU

AND NOW YOUR SONG IS ON REPEAT

AND IʻM DANCINʻ ONTO YOUR HEARTBEAT

AND WHEN YOUʻRE GONE I FEEL INCOMPLETE

SO, IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH

I JUST WANNA BE PART OF YOUR SYMPHONY

WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO?

SYMPHONY

LIKE A LOVE SONG ON THE RADIO

WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO?

IʻM SORRY IF ITʻS ALL TOO MUCH

BUT EVERY DAY YOUʻRE HERE, IʻM HEALINʻ

AND I WAS RUNNINʻ OUTTA LUCK

I NEVER THOUGHT IʻD FIND THIS FEELING

ʻCAUSE IʻVE BEEN HEARINʻ SYMPHONIES

BEFORE ALL I HEARD WAS SILENCE

A RHAPSODY FOR YOU AND ME

AND EVERY MELODY IS TIMELESS

- Manon moves to sit beside Aelin on the piano bench. -

Aelin and Manon: AND NOW YOUR SONG IS ON REPEAT

AND IʻM DANCING ONTO YOUR HEARTBEAT

AND WHEN YOUʻRE GONE I FEEL INCOMPLETE

SO, IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH

Aelin: I JUST WANNA BE PART OF YOUR SYMPHONY

WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO?

SYMPHONY

LIKE A LOVE SONG ON THE RADIO

WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO?

- The women lean into each other. -

Aelin and Manon: Ah-Ah-Ah-Aah-Ah-Ah-Ah

Ah-Ah-Ah-Aah-Ah-Ah-Ah

AND NOW YOUR SONG IS ON REPEAT

AND IʻM DANCING ONTO YOUR HEARTBEAT

AND WHEN YOUʻRE GONE I FEEL INCOMPLETE

SO, IF YOU WANT THE TRUTH

Aelin: OH

I JUST WANNA BE PART OF YOUR SYMPHONY

WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO?

SYMPHONY

LIKE A LOVE SONG ON THE RADIO

OH, SYMPHONY

WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO?

SYMPHONY

LIKE A LOVE SONG ON THE RADIO

WILL YOU HOLD ME TIGHT AND NOT LET GO?

The ballroom fills with applause and the boastful cheers from the men. The girls sarcastically get up and bow, like after a recital performance. Realizing that they donʻt have much time, they rush to the Lido deck and seek out Emrys and Luca.

They track the two down and ask for a picture, Aelin stands in between the them and as Aedion counts down, “Say cheese, one...two..” Aelin swipes Lucaʻs chef hat and put itʻs on quickly as the picture snaps. They look over the photo and laugh at a mischievous grin on Aelinʻs face and a confused, grumpy Luca not looking at the camera but instead at Aelin.

Having another bright idea, Aelin runs to the large chess board game on the deck and catches a selfie with the giant King and Queen chess pieces. When she returns to Emrysʻ station, a familiar back is seated in the stool she was just accompanying, and she had another brilliant idea.

“Sam? Hi,” he turns and realizes who she was.

“Oh hi!,” he responds kindly, “Iʻm sorry, I donʻt think I got your name.”

“Aelin,” she gives her hand out for a handshake, he returns with a firm, grip.

“Well itʻs nice to officially meet you, Aelin,” her cheeks warm.

“This may seem like a forward request, but is there anyway my friends and I could see the shipʻs steering wheel? Iʻm told youʻre the captain,” she smirks.

He chuckles, “One of them yes, and totally, let me take you guys.”

She gets Manon, Aedion, Dorian, and Fenrys and introduces them to Sam and vice versa, mentioning that heʻs the captain and heʻll be showing them the ships steering wheel. He leads them to the command bridge, on the way Manon pulls her aside.

“Ace we can knock out three birds with one stone,”

“What are you talking about?” Aelin says, not quite understanding.

“Kiss him in front of the steering wheel.”

“What?”

“In the photo weʻll have the steering wheel, check, a team member kissing a stranger, check, and a staff member (the higher rank, the more points) aka, CAPTAIN! 3 items, one picture, plus we donʻt have much time left, come on.”

Pressured by the time constraint, Aelin caves. “Fine. Have your phone ready.”

Aelin hurries back to the front near Fenrys and Sam, staying close to both. They make it to the command bridge and Sam gives them a tour of the different controls, putting on his captainʻs cap, a look that suited him, Aelin thought.

They stood in front of the steering wheel and Aelin quietly asked Sam, “I apologize, another forward request,”

“Iʻm getting the feeling that thatʻs your thing,” he whispers back. She softly snickers.

“Could I kiss you?”

Obviously taken off guard, Sam blushes, then cups Aelinʻs face in his hands and brushes a soft, sensual kiss to her lips. Manon takes the photo. Aelin melts in his touch, returning the kiss with more fervor. Aedionʻs forced cough ruins the moment, the two disconnecting, both with warm, rosy complexions.

“Um, thank you for the tour, we have to go now,” Aedion says plainly. Manon and Dorian quietly laugh and the group make their leave, Aelin joins once out of earshot.

They return to the Lido deck and split up to try and get the last few items on the list. Aedion assigns himself to find the ice cream and the 3 food menus, Manon and Dorian volunteer for the spa brochure and mini golf game, and they go their separate ways.

Aelin and Fenrys stand at the edge of the pool when he turns his back to the pool and faces her.

“You know, I must confess, I find you extremely attractive,” he professes.

“Is that so, pretty boy?” She moves her palms to lay flat on his chest, looking up to him. She starts to tippy-toe, and he leans forward in for a kiss. When their faces get an inch apart she pushes him forward, he flails into the pool, and she laughs her guts out.

She whips out her phone and takes a photo of an unamused, cock-blocked Fenrys in the pool. She looks around the pool, looking for a life preserver ring nearby. She catches sight of one hooked up to the deck railing. She releases it and returns to the pool, Fenrys just getting out, dripping water everywhere.

She hands him the phone and he snaps a few photos of her posing in her bikini with the life preserver ring, satisfied and proud of his work, he whistles back up at his model.

Dorian and Manon return warning them that it is time to meet back with the other team. Aedion returns shortly after with a mustache of ice cream. Aelin cleans him up and they travel back to their meeting place to determine a winning team.

Team one shows their photos and videos first. They had mainly the same idea as Aelinʻs group. For their King and Queen item, they took a photo of the King and Queen from a standard deck of cards. For their yellow duck, Lysandra took a picture of Aedionʻs matching boxer briefs to his trunks, the whole group found that humorous, but made sure he didn't feel embarrassed of his attire choices. One of the photos that Aelin picked out was their kissing stranger photo. In the frame was Rowan kissing a pale blonde woman with bright, cerulean eyes.

“Ro, is that Remelle?” Fenrys asks, also pointing out the photo.

“Yeah, Benson and Essar are here too,” Rowan responds, the first thing sheʻs heard him say all day.

“Whoʻs Remelle?” Aelin asks, trying not to seem too eager to know.

“Remelle, Benson, and Essar are our regular groupies, they follow us literally everywhere we go, theyʻre at every show, every concert. Pretty much our biggest fans,” Fenrys informs her.

“Biggest stalkers,” Lorcan corrects.

“Still strangers though, they know everything about us, we know nothing about them really,” Connal defends, making the record clear that the photo is still valid.

Team two takes their turn showing their photos and videos. Fenrys emphasizing Aelinʻs squat video, her and Manonʻs dancing pictures, their song, and the photos he just took of her and the life preserver ring. The other team, especially Elide and Lysandra, hype her and Manon up, calling them “hotties” and a “baddies” every so often.

Manon shows the photo of Aelin and Sam. Elide and Lys gasp, “Is that THE Sam?” Aelin laughs and nods. “Good work Ace.”

Dorian calculates the final points and calls for attention.

“Great job today everyone, you all did amazing. Results are in, team one got 112 points,” everyone applauses in congratulations, “and team two got 124, congratulations team two!”

Everyone cheers and congratulates each other, very maturely and sportsman-like. They spend the rest of the afternoon splashing each other and playing in the pool.

Night 4 - AT SEA - “No band performance tonight, Live Crew Performances during Dinner!

The two bands stayed in the water for hours, playing throughout the glorious sunset. They had definitely gotten closer, more comfortable with each other. Throughout the play fighting they discussed possibly teaming up on shows and performing together. Itʻs an idea. It would probably be really fun, adding a different dynamic to both groups.

Aelin notices Rowan laying on a pool deck chair, staring into the sky. She exits the pool, dries off a little and joins him, laying down on the deck chair next to him, star gazing into the extraordinary abyss of light. Heʻs the first one to break the silence.

“Lyria was really into astronomy,” he chocked a little, not enough to pick up unless you knew him, “she knew all the constellations by name, all the galaxies,” his gaze never leaving the cosmos. “Sometimes I like to think that sheʻs one of these stars now, burning bright, watching over me every night.”

“She soundʻs incredible. I wish I could have met her”

He smiles, “I think you would have liked her.”

She turns her head, adjusting her arm to rest her head on her forearm, facing him. “Tell me more about her?”

He obliges. He tells the story of how he and Lyria first met, running into each other on their way to class, dropping all her books and supplies and bumping heads when they both reached down to pick them up. He shares of their first date, their first kiss.

She couldn't remember being tired but something about Rowanʻs voice soothed her into submission, her eyelids dropping with weight. Before she knew it she passed out, falling asleep right there on a deck chair, listening to her ex talk about his dead fiance.

When she finally awoke in the middle of the night, she was back in her bed, her comforter tucked into her sides. How did I make it back here? She didnʻt have the energy to investigate her questions, the night claimed her once again and she drifted off one last time.

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

All Hands on Deck taglist: bolded tags aren't taggable, lmk what I can do

@smalltddygothgf

@booksbqueen

@underworldboxers

@live-the-fangirl-life

@islabyrnex

@kathi2599

@booknerdproblems

@rowaelinismyotp

#all hands on deck #rowaelin #aelin galythinius #rowan whitethorn #throne of glass #throne of glass fanfic #tog #manon blackbeak #manorian #dorian havilliard #fenrys moonbeam #elide x lorcan #aedion x lysandra #cruise

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