#his little sit-down on the edge of the stage for a chat!

[springgirlshowers]

Tell Your Lucky One

Pairing: Joost Klein x GN!Reader (no prns used!)

CW: crying, just emotional angsty shit

WC: 832

A/N: lil angsty song fic, listen to Beach Baby by Bon Iver if you haven’t 🙏🏻🙏🏻 this has been in my drafts for a hot min so here you go! ignore how i used the same prompt i did in my last fic 😭😭

“Liefje, you know these dates were planned months ago.” Joost sighed, rolling his suitcase by the couch while you waited in the bedroom, sitting on the edge of the bed.

“I know, I just didn’t know the time was gonna pass so quick.”

“It’ll pass quickly when I’m gone too. I’ll be back home before you know it.” He said, entering the doorway. Joost sat down next to you,

“Two months.” You whispered, trying to convince yourself it wouldn’t be that long.

“Teuns gonna pick me up tonight and then I’ll have to get going.” You purposely didn’t ask what specific time he was leaving, you didn’t want to. You knew if he was leaving at a certain time you’d spend the whole night dreading the hour.

The sun was already setting, casting a golden glow on his face.

“I’ll text you and video chat every night, whenever I can. Maybe, I’ll even call you on stage.” He teased, tickling the side of your waist.

“There’s a smile!” He grinned when you squirmed away and giggled a bit.

You shuffled closer, throwing your legs over his lap, wrapping your arms around his neck and laying your head on his shoulder.

You stayed there for a little, silent while Joost rubbed your back. Joost felt a few drops hit his shirt, he craned his neck to look at you.

“Hey, don’t cry liefje.” He cupped your face, wiping away the tears.

“I’m sorry.” You said, sniffling. “I’m just gonna miss you so much.” You didn’t mean to say it through a sob. Joost made a sympathetic noise.

His heart broke, he desperately wanted to bring you along, but he really couldn’t bring any more people on this tour and you had your own responsibilities to take care of.

“The two months will go by so fast you won’t even realize.” He tried to give you a smile.

You felt stupid crying over this, feeling like a child again, sitting in his lap and crying over a dropped lollipop.

You turned your face to the side, trying to hide it from him.

“Hey, look at me. I wanna see you.” You shook your head.

“I don’t look pretty when I cry, my face gets all pink and blotchy.” You said through a sad laugh. He brought his fingers under your chin, pulling your gaze back to him.

“I love your face, even if it’s all pink and blotchy.” He kissed the tip of your nose, you smiled.

You maneuvered yourself off of him, going back to your original spot next to him. Sitting in silence once again.

“Can you do one favor for me?” You looked at your hands, too nervous to look at him.

“Ja, ja of course.” He tried to look in your eyes.

“Just don’t lock the door when you go, I don’t want to hear you leaving.” You said softly.

Joost wanted to refuse and tell you how it was a risk. But you lived in a quiet and safe area.

And if it helped keep him from breaking your heart any more, he would do it for you.

“Okay.” He said softly, pressing a kiss to your temple. It hurt how he noticed the way you didn’t lean into the kiss like you always would. You only sat there silent, staring at your fidgeting hands.

“Will you just lay with me for a little bit?” You finally looked at him, lip pouting a tiny amount. He let out a hum of agreement.

You both moved to the top of the bed, shuffling under the sheets. His chest pressed against your back, holding onto your waist so tightly.

You grabbed one of his hands, intertwining your fingers, and holding his and your hand against your chest.

Trying desperately to keep any more tears from escaping, you shut your eyes.

Staying there, so comfortable and so tired. You eventually drifted off into sleep, you didn’t mean to.

Joost didn’t wake you, knowing you didn’t want to see him leave. Once 8PM arrived, Joost carefully removed his arms from you. Walking around the bed, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead and tucking the sheets over you. So gentle to not wake you up, only making you stir a bit.

He did as you asked, closing the door as quietly as he could, not locking it before he stepped down the stairs.

You woke up later than you expected, it was nearly ten by the time you turned over and your eyes fluttered open. Instead of being met with Joosts warm body, it was only the cold empty sheets next to you.

You slowly got up and out the bed, going into the living room as you rubbed your eyes of sleep. His suitcase and bags gone.

Sitting down on the couch, you took in the moonlight peeking through the blinds and the sad quietness of the apartment. Hoping these two months would go by as quick as he said they would.

[lemoncrushh]

Saturday Night

Summary: Harry needs comforting after his performance on SNL.

Warnings: None, lots of fluff and emotions

Word Count: 1639

A/N: One shot written in 2017 after Harry's appearance on SNL. I believe this was a request. Written in first person, but the woman's name is not given.

He was nervous.

He didn't want me or anyone else to know he was, but I could tell. And who wouldn't be? It was his first performance in over a year, and his first ever as a solo artist. I would have been nothing but a ball of nerves if it were me. He'd paced back and forth in the green room, spreading his fingers out as far as they would go, bringing them back into a fist over and over again, repeating the cycle each time he'd make it to the other end of the room and turn around on his heels.

I'd sat quietly on the sofa, nibbling on the display of fruit and crackers that sat in the middle of the coffee table. I was nervous too, but I said nothing unless it was to reply to a question, giving him the most space I possibly could. I'd asked him earlier if he would rather I took a seat in the audience, but he assured me he wanted me backstage, waiting for his return. Though he never expressed why exactly, I took it to mean he wanted me to be there for him, for him to see my face and perhaps share an embrace after he'd walked off stage, and I took comfort in that.

I'd watched his first performance on the monitor in the green room, sitting on the edge of my seat, my hands tucked underneath my thighs as I bit my bottom lip. By the end of the song, I'd felt my eyes well up, quickly wiping them away with the back of my hand before he saw. I could tell as soon as he walked in that he was less than pleased with himself. He'd missed a couple of notes, his voice raspier than usual from all the practicing, and once he'd even had to drop a word at the end of the phrase due to lack of air. I knew he had to be mentally scolding himself. But I'd thought it was flawless. He'd done it. He was Harry Styles, rockstar.

He didn't say a word to me as I rose from the couch and our eyes met. Instead, I saw his chest rise and fall with a deep breath before he removed his suit jacket and discarded it on a nearby chair.

I'd watched the rest of the show in the same spot, my gaze again meeting Harry's whenever he reemerged, but quickly faltering. I felt a tenseness in my muscles, a sourness in my stomach, wanting badly for him to tell me how he was feeling. But I knew better. He'd tell me when it was all over, and he could finally take a step away from it all and get out of his head. During the skits, he was his usual charismatic self, and I could tell he was having a good time. But I knew that during his second song, he was again in his head. Not that that was always a bad thing. Just as before, he was flawless, at least to me and probably ninety-nine percent of his fans. Though he seemed a little more relaxed than he had been during the first song, his nerves remained apparent. I wanted to hold him, to tell him how proud I was of him - remind him how incredible he was.

This time when he came into the room, I sensed a lighter air around him, a calmness. I let out a breath and smiled at him, to which he returned with a thumbs up, making me feel a little more at ease. However, he still said nothing, only rolling down his sleeves and grabbing his jacket to put back on. I bit my lip as I watched him on the screen one final time, to bow and blow kisses to the audience as Jimmy thanked him and the rest of the cast and crew. He looked genuinely happy, and that filled my heart with joy and pride.

I stuck around for a while after the show, allowing Harry to hug everyone and say goodbye. I could tell they all adored him, as it should be. I stood by his side while he chatted lightly with people, feeling his hand sometimes squeeze mine. I'd give his a squeeze back, our own little silent conversation. I could feel the tension dissipate from his body little by little as the evening progressed into early morning, though I knew eventually there would be a discussion with actual words. For the time being, I was content in letting him enjoy his moment, the friendly banter with the cast members serving him temporary distraction.

By the time we arrived at our hotel, Harry opting out of the cast party that followed, I could tell he was exhausted, though itching to finally talk. I sat on the edge of the bed, removing my shoes as I watched him, his back to me while he unbuttoned his shirt.

"You were amazing," I declared.

I saw his head turn slightly, though he didn't look at me.

"Coulda been better," he muttered with a shrug, shaking out of his shirt and tossing it on the floor.

I sighed as I rose from the bed, carrying my shoes to my suitcase.

"I don't think so," I argued. "It was perfect to me."

"Mm not to me," he huffed, pulling down his trousers. "I fucked up."

I stood frozen as I watched him cross to the bed and lie down, his arm over his eyes.

"I think you're a little hard on yourself," I said. "Everyone loved it."

"I didn't love it."

"Harry..." I murmured, climbing onto the bed next to him. "It was live television. You were bound to be nervous."

When he didn't reply right away, I worried that I'd said the wrong thing. I laid down beside him, watching his bare chest rise and fall. I wanted so badly to make him feel better.

"I'm really proud of you," I whispered.

Harry dropped his arm and blinked as he stared at the ceiling.

"You did exactly what you set out to do," I continued. "On your terms. Your rules. Your music. That's like every musician's dream. You're living it."

Turning his head finally to look at me, I saw his green eyes glisten.

"You liked it?" he asked, his voice scratchy.

"I loved it, baby," I replied. "And so did your fans. You have to know that, right? Everyone is rooting for you. We're on your side. A couple little glitches mean nothing. In fact, if anything, they made you more likable. It was so raw and real."

"It just sounded better in rehearsal," Harry muttered.

I tried my best to hold in a chuckle.

"You're such a perfectionist," I grinned. "But that's one of the things I like most about you. You keep pushing yourself because you know you can do it. That's what makes you great. That push...that drive...it's appealing."

Harry's expression softened as he sighed, his gaze returning to the ceiling.

"I'm just mad that I let my nerves get the better of me."

"It happens," I said. "But it didn't ruin the performance. It was spectacular."

I caught the corner of his mouth wiggle slightly. "Thanks, baby."

I scooted closer to him, placing my hand on his chest. I was relieved when he covered my hand with his and gave it a squeeze.

"You know how wonderful you are, right?" I asked rhetorically. "I envy you. Even though you might have been nervous tonight, you're the most fearless person I know. You just exude sheer talent, it's in your blood. I'm constantly hearing how kind and charming you are, and I'm so grateful I can attest to that because I see it with my own eyes. At least half the planet is crazy about you, and the other half just saw the show tonight and are gonna be talking about it for weeks."

I saw Harry's eyes blink faster at my words and he squeezed my hand tighter.

"I'm not saying all of this just to make you feel better," I stated. "I mean, I want you to feel better. But I'm saying it because it's true."

I pressed my lips to his cheek then, kissing a trail to the tiny freckles on his cheekbone and up to his temple.

"I'm so proud of you," I whispered again in his ear. "So proud."

With one last kiss, I released him and rolled onto my back. But within seconds, Harry followed, laying his head on my chest. He wound his arms around me, nearly taking my breath away. I smiled to myself as I heard him hum, the vibration tickling my skin from the inside. I let my fingers comb his hair as he continued to breathe and hum gently to the rhythm of my heartbeat. We laid there like that for several minutes until I thought he might be asleep.

"I love you," he spoke, making me jump.

"What?"

I wasn't sure I heard him correctly. Although I'd known for a while that I was in love with him, neither of us had confessed our feelings for the other. Raising his head, Harry looked at me and crawled up my body so that he hovered over me. I stared into his eyes with anticipation until he closed them softly and lowered his mouth to mine. He kissed me passionately, like he had many times before, but somehow also differently.

"I love you," he repeated.

"Harry..." I murmured, pulling him back to me for another kiss. And another.

"I..." I stumbled between kisses. "I love you, too."

Harry grinned, pressing his lips to my forehead, then the bridge of my nose.

"I know," he said, before kissing my lips once more.

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[butdaddyilovehim-hs]

Spells of Fate

Summary: Y/N keeps having mysterious dizzy spells and Harry can't help but be increasingly worried

Based on this ask :)

Warnings: fluff, protective H

Word Count: 1.2k

The first time it happens, it catches Y/N off guard.

“H… babe can you slow down? I just need a minute.” Y/N breathes heavily, steading herself on a nearby bench as Harry quickly jogs back to her. 

“Love, you alright? You’re looking pretty pale.” He presses a cool palm against her forehead and notes how clammy she is, despite only having been jogging for a few minutes. 

“I don’t… I’m just feeling really dizzy. I think I need to sit down.”

“Ok, ok, I’ve got you. Have some water; Let’s rest for a bit and then we can start walking home. Good thing we didn’t make it far hey?” He jokes, attempting to pull a smile from his girlfriend. 

“I’m so sorry bubs, I know you wanted to run today. I’ll be ok, go on without me and I’ll meet you at home.” Y/N smiles weakly at him, urging him to keep going. Harry looks at her like she’s grown three heads.

“Not a chance, are you crazy? I’d never leave you, especially when you’re not feeling well. Can I take you to the hospital? Do I need to do something?” 

Y/N almost giggles at the sight of her boyfriend so anxious. He’s running his fingers through his hair, his hands twitching nervously as though he’s itching to do something. 

Come on, up. Do you need me to carry you or are you alright to walk?”

Y/N rolls her eyes at his overprotective nature.

“You really would carry me if I asked wouldn’t you.”

“Absolutely.” 

The second time, Y/N can feel it coming on.

This time she’s able to hide it better. Or so she thinks. 

It’s been a few days since the first incident and Harry’s about to go on stage. She’s laughing and chatting to Sarah when the wave of lightheadedness rushes through her again. Y/N grips onto the couch as subtly as she can, excusing herself quickly to grab some water. She thinks she’s managed to go unnoticed but it’s only a few moments later that Harry is by her side. 

“Y/N, my love. What’s the matter?”

“Harry you have a show to get to.”

“Not important darling, need to make sure you’re ok. You dizzy again?”

Y/N just nods, letting herself sink into Harry’s embrace. 

“I want you to stay back here tonight and look after yourself ok. Don’t come out for the show, I don’t want anything to happen to you.”

“Harry of course I’m coming out for the show. Now you need to go, and I’ll be right behind you. Just need some more water and I’ll be good.”

“Y/N.” Harry looks at her sternly. He’s worried. She knows he is, but Y/N is determined to not let whatever is going on with her ruin his show. 

“Harry. Love. I’m ok. Go on.” She presses a soft kiss to his lips, pushing him gently out the door of the bathroom. He grumbles as he goes, muttering something about how stubborn she is because he “just wants to take care of her.”

The third time is the worst one. 

She’s in the friends and family section, dancing around with Anne, screaming the lyrics to Daylight with Gemma. Y/N doesn’t feel completely better but she’s ignoring it to have fun. Harry is on edge tonight and she can feel it by the way he keeps glancing over to her in concern. 

“I’m fine!” She mouths, offering him a thumbs up. He scans her face for any sign of distress before nodding and blowing a kiss, moving to the other side of the stage. The concert is loud, and Y/N can feel herself getting warmer. 

Harry is doing his speech before Matilda and suddenly there are little dark spots in her vision. She can faintly hear Anne calling her name before everything fades to black and she falls to the ground.

Harry watches her faint from his view on the stage and his heart sinks. He’s about to stop the show and rush into the crowd to check on Y/N, but out of the corner of his eye he sees Jeff organising a stretcher to move her backstage. 

“Stay on stage H. We’ll take care of her I promise. Finish the show.” Harry hears through his earpiece. 

So he does, not wanting to disappoint the fans who’ve travelled so far to watch him play. It’s the longest 25 minutes of his life, finishing Kiwi with a half hearted whale before absolutely legging it backstage.

“Where is she? Where’s my girlfriend? I need to know where she is.” He’s tense and on edge as he searches the rooms backstage, finding Y/N and his mum in a room adjacent to his dressing room. Anne sends a comforting smile to her son before leaving to give the couple some privacy. 

Y/N slowly regains consciousness, her head throbbing and her body aching. She blinks, trying to make sense of her surroundings. It takes a moment for the blurred shapes and colors to sharpen into focus.

"Y/N, you're awake," a comforting voice says, and she turns her head to see Harry sitting beside her, his worried eyes locked onto her.

"What happened?" Y/N croaks, her voice barely above a whisper.

"You fainted during the show," Harry replies, his voice laced with concern. "They brought you back here.”

Y/N tries to sit up but immediately regrets it as dizziness washes over her. Harry gently pushes her back down.

"Easy there, love," he says softly. "We called a doctor. They're on their way.”

Y/N nods weakly, her heart pounding in her chest. She can't believe she let this happen again, especially during one of Harry's concerts.

"I'm so sorry," she murmurs, her eyes filling with tears.

Harry leans closer, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Hey, don't be sorry. This isn't your fault. We'll figure out what's going on.”

As they wait for the doctor, Harry keeps a protective arm around Y/N, soothing her with gentle words and reassuring touches. When the doctor arrives and begins to examine her, Harry never leaves her side.

“Well Miss Y/L/N, the mysterious cause of the fainting spells has been solved. You’re pregnant. Only about 8 weeks along but that would be the cause of the dizziness. Congratulations you two.”

Harry is silent and Y/N takes this as a bad sign. She’s consumed by her own shock but Harry’s reaction has her frightened. 

“Harry,” she starts weakly, “I know this isn’t what we planned and I totally understand if-”

Harry holds her face in her hands cutting her off.

"Darling, we're going to have a baby," he whispers, his voice filled with wonder.

“You… you’re ok with this?”

“Of course I’m ok with this. I mean I didn’t expect it to be this soon but I can’t wait to have a family with you my love. Fuck. I’m going to be a dad.” His voice is filled with excitement and slight nervousness and Y/N’s eyes fill with happy tears. 

Harry can't help but press a loving kiss to Y/N's forehead, his voice filled with affection as he murmurs, "You're going to be an amazing mum.”

Y/N looks up at him with teary eyes, her heart overflowing with love. "And you're going to be the best dad.”

Tags: @lukesaprince @harryspirate @walkingintheheartbreaksatellite @lilyrmason12 @styleslover-19944 @stylesfever @kathb59 @indierockgirrll @bxbyysstuff @gills-lounge @lomlhstyles @opheliaofficial07 @stylesmoonlight12 @babyiamperfectforyou @velvetballaspark @macy-tpwk @mema10 @jerseygirlinca @daphnesutton @rafaaoli

[daydreams-after-dark]

PLS I NEED A FIC WHERE BIG DICK HAN IS TIED UP AND EDGED FOR HOURS BY M!READER UNTIL HE SHAKES AND WHINES 🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴🥴

"h-hyung, p-please, I'm begging, I need to- ah-!" (Edged again) "Please h-hyung, it really hurts, it hurts" then he cries then you edge him for another hour 😩😩

Edge and ruin his damn orgasm atleast 20 times and he will literally cry and beg and shake just to cum

(in my Dom era, yes I like being both so I read both XDDDDDDDD)

So, after a little chat behind the scenes, @chuuchuu1224 is happy for me write this as a Minsung piece 😃 I don’t think I’ve ever written them by themselves before 🤔 �� anyway we’re going classic Minsung with a needy Ji and a domming Min.

Hope you like it 😘 x. Sorsha

“M-min…p-please…” whined Jisung. “Need to cum… please…please let me…baby, please!”

“Shh! What did I say about your whining, Hmm?” Minho said coldly. “Just shut up and take your punishment.”

“I’m s-sorry, hyung!” He sobbed.

Jisung had been tied to bed for 3 hours now, and he was almost at breaking point. He looked a sight. He was completely naked, sweating, his big delicious cock swollen, angry and leaking, resting against his taut abs. Tears running down his cheeks.

Minho thought he looked perfect being this helpless. That’s why he has really taken his time to tease torment his lover. Just like he himself had been tortured all week by Jisung.

For the past six days he’d been teasing Minho, avoiding his touch and ignoring his glances, flirting with Hyunjin. Grr. It’d been driving him fucking crazy. Cock tease. “I promise you’re gonna pay for this.” He’d told him the other night. He was met with an attitude of “what are ya gonna do about it?”

Well, now Jisung knew exactly what Minho was doing about it.

“You can’t do this to me!!! Aahhh p-please.” He scrunched his eyes as he sobbed loudly.

Minho hovered over Jisung’s cock, taking it in his hand and squeezing it slightly.

“Fuuuccckkk!!! H-Hyung… stop teasing… I’m gonna die!”

Minho licked the dribbling pre-cum from the tip. It was probably the fifteenth time he’d done so today. Edging poor Ji until he was almost there, then simply licking the precum away and leaving him writhing on the bed.

His balls were so tight and painful looking too. Minho wondered how he’d react if he squeezed them?

“Hyung!!!!” He sobbed. Minho smirked.

“Sungie. You need to listen very carefully. I’m going to untie you now. But only so you can roll onto your stomach. Then you’re going to be tied again. No funny business.”

Jisung whined. “O-okay…”

Minho repositioned Jisung so he was lying on his stomach, arms stretched and tied above his head. He immediately started grinding against the bedspread.

“Ahh… fuck!”’ Jisung squealed as a hard slap landed on his ass.

“No grinding.” Growled Minho.

He bit his lower lip as he caressed the curve of Jisung’s back, causing the boy to shudder, then parting his cheeks and nestling his face between them to lick his hole.

A low groan came from Jisung as Minho ate him out. He knew it would drive him absolutely crazy. But there was something that he knew would really torture his poor boyfriend. He slipped a finger into his hole. Just to the first knuckle. He gently thrust into him one, two, three times, then removed his finger entirely.

“Fuck you, Minho! When I’m not tied up I’m gonna fuck you so hard you won’t be able to sit for a week.” He growled, trying to look back at him.

So he was at the stage of throwing threats now? He’d already begged and bargained to no avail. Desperate, needy boy.

“I mean it. I’m gonna fuck you up—aaahhh. F-fuck.”

Minho couldn’t hold out any longer and laid himself on top of Jisung and pushed his cock into his tight ass.

“Min…fuck…fuck…I’m… fuck you’re deep. P-please…ngh…”

Three deep, precise thrusts from Minho, and Jisung came with his cock squished between his stomach and the mattress. He shook and convulsed underneath Minho, making him almost come too.

“Min….no…too… it’s too much!”

“Shut up. Don’t you fucking know how much I’ve wanted to be buried in your ass this week?” He panted as he snapped his hips.

“Hyung…I love you.” Whimpered Jisung into the matress.

Minho’s thrusts halted for just s moment as his heart burst inside his chest.

“I love you too, Sungie. But for now I need to be a good little cocksleeve for me and be quiet.”

@channieandhisgoonsquad @noellllslut @itsseohannbin @weareapackofstrays @kangnina @3rachasdomesticbanana @palindrome969 @xxkissesforchanniexx @fun-fanfics @wolfennracha

[bigfan-fanfic]

Star Shower (Batdad Pokemon Fanfic)

Can you do a fic where the batboys seeing batdad do a pokemon contest performance for the first time in real life? Batdad used to be a top pokemon coordinator and sorta quietly stopped being a coordinator because of Bruce disappearing and the whole family of vigilantes and having to take care Wanye Enterprise. Now that the batboys are adults and (mostly) stop vigilante-ing, batdad decided to re-debut.

Bruce, of course, leads the family down the red carpet.

He's so very proud of his husband. He has always felt a little guilty about the fact that you had to take an early retirement from your Coordinator career to run Wayne Enterprises and watch over the family after he came back.

But now you're back in full form, and the press is on fire, calling it "The Return of the King" and other such dramatic claims.

You were known for the powerful combination of your Lucario and Gardevoir - a glorious display of simple martial prowess combined with psychic illusions and effects.

But there's been a surprising development.

Instead of Lucario, you've registered with Gardevoir and Cubone.

The very same Cubone you raised from an egg.

People are intrigued, knowing you're bringing something completely new, but totally unable to keep from speculating.

"B, did you ever go to one of Pops' shows?" Dick asks. He, Bruce, Tim, and Barbara head down the carpet - Jason and Damian and the others have sought out a more discreet entrance.

"I did, once, before I left for training. It was... beautiful. He actually pulled me onstage and kissed me in public for the first time, after the performance. Honestly, I can't recall much about that show, but I remember the cologne he wore that night." Bruce sighs happily.

Tim rolls his eyes. "Some help you are. I still don't know what we're going to see tonight."

"I sent you a whole file of Contest performances last month to get you up to speed!" Barbara protests. "Do you... mute the group chat?"

"It's just not as fun now that it's... just a normal family chat."

Dick laughs. "I don't think we're that normal, Timmy."

They do a few short sound bites for the press, making it clear that tonight they are here for you. And backstage, Jason and Damian have come to give you good luck hugs.

"Awwww, my baby boys." You chuckle.

"Papa, are you sure you'll be alright that Brown and Cain and the Rows and Thomas won't-"

"Don't remind him of that!" Jason growls. "He doesn't need-"

"It'll be fine. Alfred's watching them all, and I don't blame them for avoiding the press. It doesn't mean they aren't with me." You smile. "Plus, I know Tim will be recording it for them."

Jason hugs you. "Go get em, Dad."

You smile softly, then look down to Damian. "Dami? You alright?"

Damian gives you a little shaky smile. "I suppose I'm just... excited, is all. To see you perform."

"Me too, kiddo. Go find your seats, okay? I want you to make sure you stick by your dad. You know he gets anxious when you're all out in public."

As they head back, you don the classic hat and tailored suit you were known for as a young Coordinator, adjusted and updated for the man you are now.

And you walk out on stage to thunderous applause from the audience - the loudest cheers from your family. The other Coordinators flourish on their entrance, throwing their Pokeballs into the air wildly, but you simply open your hands and let them exit. A little shy to debut, Cubone tries to hide behind you, but Gardevoir lifts the little thing up with psychic power into your arms for a quick cuddle, making the audience "awwww."

Eventually the show continues, each Coordinator doing their set, leaving you for last. Which definitely sets them on edge, you can tell.

But you're here because you wanna show the world that you didn't lose yourself all those years ago.

You start out cross-legged on the stage, sitting down. Cubone cuddles in your lap before tumbling out, seemingly eager to show you something.

The audience gives a little chuckle at the orchestrated adorable tumble.

Cubone withdraws a large bone and begins to slowly swing it around, twirling it like a baton. And when it tosses the bone into the air, it... lifts.

And then another, and another. Seven bones float in a large oval, continuing to revolve faster and faster as they spin across the stage.

The spotlight darkens, as light fractures behind you both - the stage becoming a prismatic field of light. Gardevoir appears, floating in the middle of the circle of spinning bones.

Cubone gives an excited cry and hurls a Bonemerang and one by one the bones break open in bursts of glitter powder, which swirl and swirl like a nebula forming into a planetary ring.

Gardevoir twirls in midair, the center of the nebula, and sends the shining rainbow powder running down to the stage-

-only for Cubone to use Icy Wind to freeze the powder in midair, making a beautiful mix of rainbow and snow, in an intricate swirl as Gardevoir manipulates the crystal formation.

As a grand finale, Gardevoir levitates Cubone into the center of a globe formed of ice and glitter, only for it to use Earth Power, bursting out in green and gold light, dissolving the ice and sending the glitter drifting like stardust across the audience.

There's a moment of stunned silence. And then in a great wave, the audience stands, and as they applaud, you see your husband practically glowing with pride and awe.

Of course, you win the Contest, and you hold your Cubone close in reward. The press calls it the greatest Contest Comeback of all time, but you're too busy watching your family gently praise your shy little Cubone and elegant Gardevoir.

And your husband never leaves your side the rest of the night.

[sweetiesicheng]

seungkwan - injury

word count : 702

-

the door slides open, "y/n!" seungkwan shouts and hurries towards you. "you okay?" he asks.

"huh? why are you here?" you ask him, knowing that his schedule is packed today.

"i'm supposed to be at a recording session, but i left when one of the managers texted the group chat," he explains and sets his bag down on a chair. "what happened?" he asks.

you sigh, "fell off the ladder when i was helping my sister," you shortly explain. "it's not that bad.”

"you're in a cast."

"okay, so it's a little bad."

seungkwan sits on the edge of the bed and holds your hand. he brushed some of your hair out of the way.

"how long are you out for?" he asks.

"long enough to miss rehearsals for the tour," you reply, staring at your injured leg.

seungkwan glances over at the cast and then back at you. he knows you're upset, but you're keeping yourself composed with him there.

"i can tell you're upset you know. you're not good at acting," seungkwan says and reaches over to pat your head.

"cause i can’t dance with you,” you reply, leaning towards him.

“hey, look at me,” he says to you. you look up at him. “even if you can’t dance, we’ll still find a way to make the best memories. besides, i’m dragging you on tour whether you like it or not,” he says and wraps an arm around you to hug you.

—

it's been a few days since you were discharged from the hospital. you have been spending a lot of time at home since you can't do much.

today, you decide to hang out at the company building to watch one of the rehearsals for the tour. you're friends with a lot of people who will be on tour too, so you won't be alone the entire time the guys are rehearsing.

"y/n, you're here?" dino asks as you enter the room with seungkwan.

"hi," you greet everyone present.

"sit over here," one of the dancers says, pushing a bag off of a chair. you go over to the chair and sit down.

"i got these," seungkwan says and takes your crutches. "don't dance," he says to you in almost a strict tones while pointing at you.

you pout but seungkwan kisses your forehead before putting his stuff down and starting to warmup with the others.

"has he been helping you?" one of your friends asks while stretching.

you nod, "yea, he's been helping a lot actually. i feel really bad. everyone is busy, and i probably ruined everything," you say before receiving a whack of the head, "ow!"

"you didn't ruin anything," one of your friends says. "everything will be fixed. maybe we can drag you on stage somehow," he says to you.

—

rehearsal continues going on and everyone runs through one of the bigger stages. all of the dancers are involved, so you sit by yourself.

you do the arm movements as the music plays, trying to keep yourself occupied so you aren't bored the whole time.

you watch everyone dance and start to get a bit sad about how you can't dance with everyone.

"y/n!"

you look around and see one of your friends pushing a chair with wheels on it towards you.

"come on, come on," he quickly speaks and gestures you to sit in the chair.

you get up and sit down on the chair. your friend starts pushing you across the room, and you have to hold onto the arms of the chair to brace yourself.

"too fast! too fast!" you shout as you make it across the room. the chair turns and someone else starts pushing you across the room again.

as the music continues, the dancers go back to dancing while you're in a random spot on the floor.

"y/n, what are you doing?" seungkwan asks, not even dancing to look at you.

"gotta be a part of the show somehow, right?" you reply. seungkwan smiles and laughs.

he leans in to give you a quick kiss before returning to dancing while you continue to be moved around and enjoying rehearsal despite not being able to dance.

[writingsfromhome]

Dos and Don’ts IV

A/N: hello my loves this final part to this fic completes the birth of one of my favourite fics I’ve written. Thank you for reading and enjoying it just as much—every like, comment, and dm meant the world <3

Parts: 1 / 2 / 3 / 4

—————————————————

We have an extra day in Barcelona and the team is buzzing to enjoy their nightlife since we could sleep all day tomorrow. I’d visited here while I was a uni student so I give some suggestions.

Harry’s a little on edge the whole time. Earlier today some headline from a musician Harry worked with was taken out of context and thus took the internet by storm. Now he was being flooded with people wanting to know his thoughts and feelings. It was a hot topic.

With a joint effort of me, Jeff, and Graham, we tried to keep the spotlight on his Barcelona show. Well my role was mostly to screen Harry from seeing any further discourse online.

The show itself was one of the loudest I’d been to—I was glad I had my own ear protection. The tense Harry falls away and he’s electric on stage. Even coming backstage he’s on a high; he hugs the crew and thanks everyone like he usually did at the end of shows and disappears into his dressing room with Jeff. They look like they’re talking intensely.

“So,” Sarah slides in beside me. “We noticed you’re a bit different coming back. What’s happened?”

I try to play dumb but the girls keep pushing.

“Me and my fiancé ended things,” I confess. They gasp, Claire’s eyes actually fill with tears.

“Shh!” I shush them. “Keep it on the down low please I don’t want anyone to know.”

“But y/n why are you even here!? Is it because of tour! I’m sure Harry could have rearranged things-“

“No no,” I appreciated their support but I didn’t want to hash things out. “It’s just…I think it was a long time coming. God, I don’t wanna cry. I’m good. For now. And I want to be on tour I need the distraction.”

“I get it,” they sympathize. “We’re gonna make you forget so hard tonight.”

“Okay but don’t,” I look around us to make sure there was nobody else around. “Please don’t tell Harry. Seriously please. I don’t want him to know especially. I don’t want him to treat me differently or something.”

“Lips are sealed.” Sarah zips her mouth. “But we can all tell you’re off. It’s hard not to practically living together these last couple months. If he asks we’ll say…”

“Just say she’s on a break?” Charlie suggests.

“Yeah,” I shrug. “Things are complicated, I’m on a break, whatever that’s fine.”

The girls lean towards me and envelop me in a hug. It reminds me of my friends I’d said goodbye to.

“Thanks,” I say through tears.

And the girls hold me to their promise.

After we get dressed for the night—I chose a corset-style top and trousers—we head out. The sun dips below the horizon and the old city is cast in a warm orange glow that could inspire anyone who set eyes on it. String lights come on and music plays from various doors; the city is alive.

We tease each other about looking so glam as we wander the narrow cobblestone streets. Aside from the shows we all wore sweats and tees.

Every place we pass sets my senses alight. We grab tapas from a place that smells irresistible and chat over each other about tonight’s wicked show. I continue avoiding Harry by sitting as far away from him as I can get.

As we wander off in search of the club I can’t help but feel a twinge at how incredibly romantic the moonlit streets felt.

The club is loud and alive, the noise levels even feel normal after the roar of the last few of Harry’s shows. My mood starts shooting up steadily as I drink in the energy around me.

We join the crowd and I give away my worries and my annoyances to enjoy the music. I feel it in my chest and for a blissful moment I’m grateful for my whole damn life despite everything.

“Cute guy!” Someone shouts in my ear.

Charlie nudges me to one of the guys dancing nearby. “Get distracted!”

I shake my head no.

“Do it!” She cheers. It barely travels to me. She grabs Claire’s hand and tugs her, letting her in on the plan and they goad me into going for it.

I motion a drink. I’d need another shot for the courage.

We trail back to the bar and do a round of shots, and they grin with thumbs up as I hesitantly enter the crowd again.

The dude they pointed out is tall and beautiful. Like beautiful not even handsome. I get stuck looking up at him in awe, he wasn’t really my type. A tad too pretty boy but when he notices me looking he smiles and I’m won over. I couldn’t deny a good smile.

“Hey!” He turns his body to me. At least I think he say hey.

“Hey!” I shout back.

“Que pasa?”

“What?!” I couldn’t hear a single thing. What did I expect.

He smiles and takes my hand that had been anxiously playing with the edge of my top. The other has a hand splint that I’d received in Madrid. Apparently I sprained my fingers.

The stranger wriggles both my hands to loosen them, raising his brow at the splint. I laugh.

He asks in my ear but I don’t understand. It sounds like a question, something bylar. When I scrunch my brows he laughs, “Dance! We dance!?”

“Dance!” I laugh. He was cute! “Yes! I want to dance with you!”

“Vamos,” he pulls me in. I understood that at least.

I used to do this in uni, I think. I should be able to do it again.

He teases me a little because I’m so tense. His hands knead down my back to my waist to get me to relax. It feels nice, being touched by a man that looks like he was carved from marble but filled with music.

I begin to find my rhythm and sway with him, eventually letting go completely. He compliments me as I start to move with him and pretty soon I’ve channeled my 20-year-old self. It feels pretty spectacular.

When his lips ghost my cheek I don’t protest. Right now, I felt good. Everything was on the back burner’s back burner and I felt grounded in this nighclub with this random stranger who was paying attention to me, just me. And it’s just us. And it’s just temporary. And I feel good.

When I turn around, my back to his chest, he moves my hair to the side and kisses down my neck. It felt good.

I run my hand up into his hair and he moves lower murmuring foreign words on my skin, our bodies still dancing in the same language, his hands still gripping my waist and my hips. I feel blissed out.

It ends in a split second.

“What are you doing?” Harry’s suddenly tugging me towards him. His mouth makes the words I just fill them in with his annoyingly bossy voice.

“Hey man,” the guy I’m dancing with tries to get in between us.

“What are you doing!?” I snatch my hand away from Harry.

Harry puts his hand on my partner’s chest and says something to him, maybe in Spanish. He looks at me with puppy dog eyes and I look at Harry. What had he said.

“What did you say?” I ask. I try to call back my dancing partner but he just salutes me with a smile and fades into the crowd. No wait, I’m being dragged away.

“Y/n what are you doing out there?”

“What am I doing?” I shout. “What are you?! I was having a nice time with that guy what did you say to him?”

He walks away, further back into the edges of the club. There’s a few people milling about with a number of them involved in heavy makeout sessions.

Harry turns to face me finally. “You’re engaged y/n, Claire and Sarah said things are complicated at home is that why you’re doing this?”

“What!” I throw my hands up, tears prick my eyes. What the fuck was his problem! Since when did he care? “Why do you care?! Yes, things are complicated and I was getting my mind off of said things—what is your issue? You want to drag me back here and remind me of how shitty things have been?”

“This isn’t the way,” Harry insists. “You don’t even know that guy!”

“Whatever I’m over this convo.”

I turn to leave but Harry grabs my hand, the one in the splint, and pulls me back.

“Sorry,” he lets go of the splint. Then picks it up again. “Look. I’m worried about you. This isn’t you, you’re not the girl that goes home with another guy when your fiancé is back at home! I just don’t want you making any regrets.”

“Oh is that it,” I step towards him so my hand isn’t so outstretched. He stands still but on my second step he inches back. “Since when did you get a high horse huh? Don’t tell me who I am and who I’m not. You barely know me! If I want to make decisions I regret I can do that. They’re mine to make.”

“No. Y/n, as mad as you are don’t go home with a stranger.”

“As if you don’t!” I scoff. “What’s your real agenda here? What’s going on?”

“Nothing!” He insists.

“Why do you suddenly care so much about my chastity?”

“It’s for your own good!”

He’s lying. I know he’s lying and I don’t know why he pulled me away from my beautiful Spanish dance partner but I was actually relaxing and now he’s put me right back into this crazed and tense headspace I kept finding myself in.

Fine, I decide. I could make him regret it.

“Really? You care about my morality that much?” I ask.

With my hand flat on his chest I’ve pushed him further into the wall behind him. He watches me with a guarded look.

But I want him unguarded, vulnerable. The same way he’s made me feel. I lean in, “Are you really worried about the technicalities of me cheating on my fiancé?”

I hover a half foot from his lips. Finally his eyes flicker down to my lips and I know I’ve got him.

I slide my hand up his chest and when my hand inches up the skin of his throat his eyes grow unguarded and heady with lust. He doesn’t push me away. He doesn’t say no.

Hypocrite.

I drop my hand.

“That’s what I thought Mr. Styles.”

I watch for a wonderful moment as the lust clears from his eyes and he realizes what happened. Shame, embarrassment, resignation, and then anger.

I spin on my heel and head away from him. He could deal with the consequences of his actions all on his own.

I’m half-afraid he’ll come after me but luckily I make it out of the club alone.

“He’s such a dick,” I say more to myself. Just to get it out because I’m pissed. “Who the fuck does he think he is!?”

My night is over. I just want to take this all off and forget about it. Maybe I can lock myself in my room and raid the mini-fridge, get drunk and cry myself to sleep. Those seemed like the best options right now.

I take an uber to the hotel. As I walk up to it I notice a weird crowd outside. For nearly 2am I wasn’t expecting this and my instincts kick in that this wasn’t normal. Especially when I notice all the camera straps.

“Excuse me,” I ask the front desk. “Why are there a bunch of paparazzi outside?”

“Is there?” The man behind the counter asks. “Sorry we will tell them to leave. Are you staying with us?”

“That’s a privacy concern out there, and a concern with your staff because they’re here. How do they know who’s staying here?!”

It seems to dawn on him I wasn’t just asking out of curiosity. He promises me he’ll get management. In the meantime I call Jeff and explain the situation. He starts to panic the way I hated, looking for something to blame. He calls Graham who sounds like he’s driving in nascar. It’s a very noisy and over-stimulating conversation.

“Call Harry!” Jeff orders. “Tell him he cannot go back to the hotel no matter what! Fucking vultures man!”

“Y/N,” Graham says in a calmer voice. “You need to go back to where Harry is with some sort of disguise. A hat or sunglasses. That sort of thing-“

“It’s night.”

“Yes night. No glasses. Book the closest hotel you can find. Tell his band they can come back, but to go through the back. They might get spotted but they’re trained on dodging questions. That will keep the vultures there waiting for Harry and we can pick you two up back to the airport tomorrow morning. Where’s after this?”

“Glasgow,” I bite my nail as I think. I had to call Harry asap. What if he was on his way back. “I gotta go now to call him though. Talk later.”

I hang up and call Harry. He picks up the second time.

I explain the situation and he reacts the same way as Jeff, swearing and cursing the papps. I tell him what I was going to do and tell him to go right back into the club. To pass on the word to the team even though I was going to send them a text.

I head up to my room and grab what fits in my bag. I didn’t have Harry’s room key so I decide he’d have to wear my hat and head back out. The vultures stay waiting, now just a few feet further away from the entrance.

I speak briefly to management—I figured Jeff could talk to them and give his classic earful.

On the drive I find a nearby hotel to the club and collect Harry to get him there. We’re too tense to talk when we meet up. Once inside again, I tell him to sit in the lounge while I go up to the desk.

Act above it all, I channel a rich bitch. We needed privacy and we needed nobody to know Harry was here.

“Hi I need a room.” I say.

“Of course, how many night will you be staying with us.”

I glance back to see where Harry sits. He’s in a wingback chair that’s mostly turned away and with his hair stuffed in the baseball cap you can hardly tell it’s him.

“Just a night. I need your best room please.”

“Absolutely,” the woman smiles and I feel bad for only giving a tight-lipped smile back. I wait as she clicks away, finally looking back to me with a slight frown. “So miss unfortunately we are very booked tonight. There are a couple events going on in the city making things very popular.”

“The best room will do. Preferably large.”

“Well,” she hesitates. “A lot of our larger rooms are taken um. I can offer you a bed with one king, it is a bit smaller because it’s by the elevators. I also have one with a queen that is tucked away in the corner with a better view.”

I wanted to be as far away from Harry as possible but by an elevator was asking for trouble.

“Well, I’d rather stay far away from noise so we’ll take the queen.”

“Is that just you or…” she glances at Harry.

“Yes. Two. We’ve had a rough day of travel he’s just resting.”

I hand over ID and my card, trying not to balk at the total. At least I’ll get reimbursed.

“Do you have any bags?” The concierge swoops in as I get the key card.

“No! No. Like I said, bad travel day. We just need somewhere to sleep and we’ll reunite with the bags once they arrive tomorrow.”

They leave us alone after that. I hoped it was because I’d been standoffish enough and not plain weird.

The elevator ride up to the 8th floor is stony and I spend the spare second to text Jeff and Graham the hotel’s address.

The room itself is pretty sub-par and the adrenaline of getting Harry here safely wears off.

I drop my bag by the door and pull out my toiletry bag.

“I don’t have clothes for you to change into, I didn’t have your room key.”

“Yeah. S’fine. I’ll just sleep shirtless unless that bothers you.”

We stare at each other for a tense moment.

“I’m fine with that, you’re the one with the high horse.”

After doing all this for him I wasn’t going to be easy to deal with if he wasn’t going to be easy to deal with.

He chooses to ignore me.

“How the fuck did they know I was staying there? We were under a-“

His phone rings and he answers. Sounds like Jeff.

I use the time to go to the bathroom and finally take off the makeup. I realize I should have grabbed my pjs from my bag too. I take my hair down and massage my scalp with my fingers, letting myself calm down despite the aggressive voices outside.

“Yeah whatever. Keep me updated.” I hear. Great. That was done with.

I leave the bathroom and Harry’s still pacing the floor.

“You’re gonna wear the carpet down if you keep doing that.”

He stops and looks at me, his eyes trail down my body.

“You didn’t bring yourself a change of clothes either?”

“You wish,” I head for my bag again and grab the tee and shorts. “I just forgot them out here.”

“Do you always have to be so snarky?”

Oh, so he wanted to fight. Good news for him, so did I.

“Depends. With you? When you’re being a dick? Yeah. I do.”

“It’s really quite unbecoming.”

“Is it?” I mock his accent. “It’s not proper for a lady to be snarky?”

“I don’t sound like that. You just never let anything go.” He continues.

“I never let anything go?” I repeat.

“Yeah! Ever!”

“What do you want me to let go?” I ask.

“Everything. You’re bothered by everything just let it all fucking go.”

“No like specifically what should I let go?” I turn on him and with each question I stalk towards him. “Being treated like trash by you? Being told I’m replaceable and unnecessary? Getting bossed around about who I can and can’t dance with because you suddenly decide to be the morality police!?”

“Jesus take it down a notch y/n.” We’re fuming as we square off. “I’m not your bloody fiancé.”

“And thank fuck you’re not!” I throw the clothes in my hand on the bed. “You’re my employer Mr. Styles and I’ve been nothing but a good fucking employee for the last year! I try to keep my patience and do everything I can to do my best! You’re the one always trying to blur lines! You’re the one always getting in my damn business when I don’t pay you to!”

With every accusation I poke my finger into his chest and it’s like literally pushing buttons. His face gets stonier and stonier until I’m sure he’s going to crack.

“You wanna know what your fucking issue is?” He swipes my hand away.

“Oh sure tell me, wise Harry Styles who definitely has no issues at all. Tell me.”

“This. This is your fucking issue,” he spits. “You’ve always got such a temper on you! I’m not blurring any bloody lines I check up on you and you get all offended over nothing!”

“Over nothing?” I ask. I laugh sarcastically and walk away from him. I was seeing red. “Over nothing?”

“Yes! I don’t do shite and suddenly you’re trying to bite my dick off.”

“You fucking wish,” I turn on him. “It’s crazy you don’t realize what an absolute jackass you are! We should be refunding all those fans who’ve come out to see you because the man they’re paying for is a fake! You’ve treated me like nothing and embarrassed me countless time-“

“Embarrassed you,” he scoffs.

“Yes!” I go on. “What do you call what you said on our way to Paris huh? You can be so cruel! So if I have a temper it’s justified because you’re one of the worst people I’ve met!”

“What did I say?”

“Are you kidding? You’re going to make me repeat it?” He was crazy. He was depraved and absolutely insane. Or he just hated me.

“I’m not playing a game just tell me!”

“You said I could have skipped the whole tour and nobody would notice.” I say the words that had looped through my head. And of course, he has the audacity to look surprised. “Thanks. A lot! It makes it even worse that you were so casual with your cruelt-“

“You need to stop being so sensitive,” he has the nerve to say. “Then maybe you can manage your temper.”

“I can manage my temper any time but you’re moody like a pre-pubescent teen and that looks to be a lifetime fucking problem!”

“What’s your fucking problem Y/n! What is your problem with me!? Why do you still work for me if you are this angry all the time!”

“I’m not this angry all the time, you just makes me this angry! And I hate you for it!”

“Then quit!”

“Maybe I will!” I had to. After tonight and this blowout I had to. How could I work for Harry like this.

“Great! Then you can take your problems with you.”

“Don’t gaslight me,” how dare he. “You’re not innocent in this! You create my problems and blame me for being this way.”

“Whatever y/n.”

“No.” I wasn’t letting him off the hook. I get in his face again. “Why did you stop me tonight? Why did you keep me from doing what I wanted tonight?”

“What? I told you I was looking out-“

“Bullshit!” I cut him off. “That’s a bullshit excuse, I want to know why!?”

I feel like I’m made of flames and in desperate need of a lobotomy. How could one guy make me this crazy. How could it all revolve around him.

“I was doing it for your own good! But clearly I understand why it’s so fucking complicated with your partner-“

“Don’t you dare talk about him,” I seethe. I was mad. Fuming. I want to get physical, I wish I could throttle him or at the very least access one of the pillows from across the room and smash it to the floor. I want him to see how angry I am because my words are twisted with every angle Harry could find. I wanted him to admit to something he’s been skirting for a long time. “Tell me.”

Harry stares at me with hate in his eyes and I know I have the same look. I wasn’t going to let him get away.

“You don’t even have the balls to admit it,” I poke. “Is this why you’re so hard-headed to anything I say? Because you can’t even admit something like this to yourself?”

“Just shut the fuck up y/n and stop being so mental.”

“I refuse to shut up. I want you to talk.”

His breathing gets faster and I watch him flex his hand. He was as angry as I was. Good.

“You’re a fraud. And I hate you.” I step into his space. Our bodies are a hair’s breadth away from each other’s. I want to show him how mad he makes me. I want to do something. I want him to admit this thing he’s been dancing around. It makes me so mad!

When he starts to shake his head at me I lose it. Instinct takes over where I want to physically show him how angry he was making me. I grab his face in my hands and push my mouth against his. I meet teeth.

But it doesn’t take long for him to respond. To correct the unadulterated anger with purpose.

He pushes back, kissing me harder whilst pushing me against the wall. I feel sandwiched, my chest crushed against his and I bite down on his lip trying to get back some control.

My hands are all over him, grabbing his shirt, running through his hair, pushing under his shirt to touch skin. Harry does the same, pulling at my hair and lifting me onto him.

Our tongues clash together, his hand grabs my ass, squeezing and moving up. His hands feel hot on my skin, his metal rings an icy contrast. Neither of us want to give up control. We keep fighting, just now with our bodies.

“Why can’t you ever just let it go,” he traces his teeth over my collarbone. It all feels too much.

In response I push him back, he stares at me for a heated second before we crash into each other again. We don't care where we are. All that mattered was here and showing the other who was in control. Who hated who the most.

Harry pulls away, his mouth a deep pink from our fight. His eyes are half lidded, his pupils dilated. I can tell he wants this but a part of him hesitates.

"We're doing this," I commit, not taking my eyes off his lips.

"I’m doing this," he growls and lifts me up, any hesitancy washed away. I wrap my legs around him, not thinking about anything but what I was going to do.

He whirls me around and deposits me onto the bed, and his body covers mine while his mouth attack my neck.

He wasn't gentle or slow, but then again, I didn't want him to be. I pull off his shirt, not wanting anything between us, not caring that my nails would leave marks down his back. Leaving something permanent on him sounded exactly what I needed.

I tug on his hair as his teeth come down on my chest. I feel heated as he swears, “Teasing me with this top all night was a fucking sin y/n.”

“Fuck off,” I gasp as he figures out the row of clasps at the front and the icy rings of his fingers presses against my sternum. I grit my teeth, “I didn’t wear this for you.”

His abs contract as he pushes himself back up, his eyes dark as his hands find the clasp on my trousers, undoing them with ease and tugging them off. His other hand comes back up to tilt my chin up.

“D’you really hate me?” He asks.

“Yes,” I respond with zero hesitation.

He moves his body, covering mine with his own again. My breath catches in my throat as he presses his lips to my neck, slowly moving down. He drives me crazy with anticipation and I wriggle up to keep up the pace but he holds me in place. I let out a moan as he kisses my inner thighs, his fingers gripping the tops of them. I'm squirming under his hold, the heat pooling inside of me.

“Do you hate me?” He asks again.

“Yes,” I cry, not wanting to relent to him.

“Good,” he says and that’s the last thing I remember.

The rest is a tangle of limbs, an out-of-body sensation, and seismic wave after wave coursing through my body. It’s unlike anything I’ve experienced before; the fury we felt with each other fuzes to the passion of the moment and it blitzes every damn thought out of my head.

Hours later, or maybe the whole night later—I don’t know but all I do know was that my body was spent and I was barely hanging on.

“I can’t,” I plant my hands on his shoulders and nearly pitch forward just from pausing. His hand splays on my back, keeping me in place as he turns us around.

“Okay?” He asks low.

I nod, grateful that he was taking over.

And after riding out what I know would be my last wave he rolls off of me, and we lay there just trying to catch our breaths.

After a few minutes, I sense him tilting towards me, his eyes on my face. When he stares for so long it becomes obvious, I look back at him.

His eyes are not the same ones that started this mess, they’re breezy meadows of green compared to the icy sea glass from before. But it’s not surprising. With each round and each minute we spent with other tonight, things had grown softer. Not gentle, but softer.

And as we look at each other with the awareness that the anger had bled into the threads of these tangled sheets a long time ago, we’re left with something neither of us want to distinguish. At least I don’t.

His gaze holds something too real for a place like this and I quickly look away and back at the ceiling. I feel his eyes on me a moment longer before he himself turns away to stare at the same ceiling.

“Y/N,” someone suddenly calls my name, tapping my cheeks with a gentle pat. I have to pull myself from the depths of wherever the fuck I just went to open my eyes and look up, at Harry. He looks concerned and asks me a question that I don’t register—I was truly out of it. I must have dozed off.

I push his hand away and grab the closest piece of clothing to wrap around myself in which ends up being a sheet. I take myself to the bathroom to clean up.

I hardly recognize the girl in the mirror. My eyes are blown out and my neck looks like it was rammed by a bull. I can hardly look at the rest of me. I would need to buy something high necked before we got picked up tomorrow morning and use all the concealer I had. I know I marked every inch of him I could find too.

I had never felt that level of passion with anyone. It was unnerving.

My knees collapse under me as I sit on the toilet and try to count the tiles on the opposite wall, just to come back to earth. To my body.

I sense a shadow under the door after I’m in there for a while, I watch it move from one side to the other and then move away. I wait longer, nearly falling asleep there before going back out.

The bed looks a right mess and most of the duvet is twisted to the side. I don’t bother with it, I use the sheet I’m wrapped in and crawl right into bed. Harry seems to have fallen asleep too but as I near sleep I feel the bed dip and the heavy weight of the duvet drapes over me.

I don’t have enough clarity or energy tonight to think about what any of this meant but I know I was right about leaving.

***

We return to London on a Wednesday morning and nearly kiss the ground. Harry was still playing two shows here but getting to go back home instead of a hotel room was enough to make us weep.

I didn’t really have a home to go back to. I’d been thinking about that a lot as the tour took us closer and closer to London. I had texted Gray yesterday and we agreed I could crash there until this weekend to get my stuff together.

London had a metaphorical grey fog over it in my mind. Nothing felt appealing about it and the only thing on my mind these days was home—my childhood home.

I already knew I was going to give in my resignation letter to Harry after tour but I had a 3 week period under contract. I don’t think I could afford a hotel for three weeks and staying with any of my friends is out of the question.

These thoughts kept me preoccupied.

It helped me not to think about that night though. I avoided Harry unless it was for work, returning to the solitude of my first few months working for him. He does the same: curt and avoidant. I know others notice but nobody dares to ask.

It was the most intense thing I’d done in my whole life and that was saying something. There was a way that Harry got under my skin that nobody else could. And it was hard to find a balance after the scales had shifted so far in that direction.

I felt like I had to block it out until I could have space to process it. And yet memories still seeped through when I was quiet for a moment too long or when he’d walk past me with the same cologne as that night and I’d catch a whiff. I was doubly sure this chapter had to close.

When I get back to the flat on Wednesday Gray has vanished as he promised. He told me he’d drop by that evening to talk. Surprisingly, I felt calm about it. I don’t know if it was getting all of that ferocious energy out that had been churning for months, but I feel level-headed and I appreciate the space to myself.

Gray texts me before he arrives. Like this wasn’t the flat he was now paying for alone.

I know what he wanted to talk about—we were all supposed to go to Harry’s last show at the o2 since I had tickets for everyone. Josie was stoked and based on the way she’s been texting me leading up to the day I don’t think she knew. Gray confirms it.

“So,” he rubs the back of his neck. He looked nice in a beanie and corduroy jacket. I wonder if any of the effort was for me, then vanish the thought.

“So,” I echo.

We stand awkwardly across from each other—him propping himself up behind the couch and me leaning against the dining table. Like we needed to get as much furniture between us. Like we hadn’t shared a bed a few weeks ago.

“We should sit?”

“Yeah,” he attempts a laugh and sits on the sofa. I choose the closest chair and turn it to face him. “Yeah. Um, I don’t know how you feel about Saturday. But I haven’t told Josie yet. I haven’t really told anyone.”

I nod, “Me too. Not really. People at work think we’re on a break.”

“Right. Good.” He says. “I’m not tryna lie to people but I don’t really want to get into it…”

“Yeah,” I agreed. “So Josie?”

“I’ll let her know once…once you move out?”

Move out. Of this flat. It’s been home for nearly 3 years.

Gray had surprised me with it when he found it—I had been broke and only been able to pitch in for utilities and groceries but he’d been gracious. He’d been supportive once. But I guess his support had boundaries too. I didn’t entirely blame him for that.

“Sounds good. Or later, maybe when she’s done her exams.”

He leans back on the couch, arms spread over the back and sighs as he studies me. “Yeah of course. I should’ve thought of that. You’re always good at that stuff. She’s gonna be gutted.”

I nod. Not sure what to say to that.

“So you’ll be out on Saturday yeah?” He asks after a while. It seemed both of us had a lot on our minds. But his question stings a little.

“Yep. I’m off for most of the week so I’ll just pack things up. Uhm, with Josie and whatnot I guess we’re still acting like a couple? Will that be weird?”

“Yeah. It will be but we’ve got no other option.”

“Right.” I respond. His voice grows an edge I’m not a fan of. “Well. Thanks for letting me stay here. If you need anything else I guess you can grab it now.”

I want to ask how he’s doing, who he’s staying with, and just hold his face one last time to really remember. But his cold apathy grows like frostbite over the room and creeps into my heart. I always thought where there was love there would always be love but I’m not as sure tonight.

I stay busy and when I can’t sleep at night; I map out a dream, an exit plan home. I write up my resignation letter, I look at flights and rentals and talk things out with my family, I cancel wedding and couple shit, and grieve a fair bit.

On Friday afternoon, my only formal shift this week, I head to Harry’s with an anxious weight in my chest and a buzz in my head from the hope. Hope that this chapter of my life could end soon, and I can head home and recuperate and plan out what my life was going to look like.

Harry’s on a call when I get in. He spares me a glance but I head to the office with my stack of mail. Today was mostly for some housekeeping/admin but I hope to avoid Harry for the most part like I’ve done since that night. My letter sits like a bar of gold in my bag.

I hear him move about the flat. I restock some pantry items, and we speak as little as possible. Going with him to his meeting was my final task for today so I decide it’s a good time to hand in my letter.

I find him sitting in the studio, tapping a pen against the table.

“Mr. Styles?”

“Hm?” He drags his eyes away from his screen to look at me.

“So we’re heading to your meeting in 10. Before then I just wanted to hand this in.”

The envelope stays outstretched in my hand and he eyes it, not taking it.

“What is that?”

“Can you just take it?” I shake it a little, like a bag of treats for a puppy.

His muscles move one inch every ten seconds, that’s how slow he is to sit up in his seat and finally take the letter from my hands. I almost let out a big sigh of relief. The process was finally in place.

“What is it?” He asks again, tearing the corner and down the side like he usually did.

I wait for him to unfold the thirds before answering, “my resignation letter.”

His eyes scan the sheet left to right right to left and when he looks up at me it’s hard to say what he’s thinking.

“Is this a joke?”

“No? Obviously not? I’m handing in my 3 weeks. I’ll also email a copy to Jeff and you.”

“Why are you doing this?” He stands, his tall frame rigid.

“Why? Because I’m…I’m quitting? I think I’ve learned everything I could here a-and it’s time to move on.”

By here I don’t mean working for Harry Styles and co but just here as in London. I’ve learned a fuck ton of life lessons here, and it was time to process them elsewhere.

“Is this to get back at me somehow? I don’t understand,” the papers crinkle in his fist as he grips it tighter. “Do you want a raise? Can we talk about this?”

“No.” I say and even though there’s so much more I could say I think that sums up my answer.

He looks puzzled, then annoyed. Just then my phone buzzes. The car was downstairs.

I grab my laptop and we head down. I was coming along to take minutes and then head home. In the car I reassure Harry,

“I plan on wrapping things up in the next three weeks and making sure everything is set up for an easy transition. I’ll leave continuity notes and reach out to people I regularly communicate with to break the news. The next couple months are pretty easy anyway coming out of tour and going on holiday so there should be plenty of time for the new PA, whoever your hire, to catch up.”

He doesn’t say a word. It reminds me of our first drive to the studio together. How naïve I was. How things changed.

He continues staring out the window, resting his face on his fist. I remember my teeth dragging over that jaw. I blink the image away; this was why I had to go.

When we get to Graham’s office Harry tells Jeff, “we don’t need minutes.”

Jeff looks over at me for answers and I shrug. I guess I came here for no reason but at least I had my laptop to work.

“Uh y/n please come i-“

“She’s fine working out there,” Harry cuts Graham off. Graham looks offended, his gaze drawing between Harry and I. Again, I shrug. I wasn’t leaving today I don’t know why he was acting like it.

For the next hour or so I sit at a spare cubicle and do just as I said in the car. I type out lists for upcoming interviews and studio days. I send emails for information to note for whoever the poor person was to replace me.

I had been keeping the Dos and Don’ts updated over the last year and it feels like a baby the way it came together with so much thought. I was almost sad to part with it.

Nobody tells me the meeting is over. The door simply opens and Harry breezes past.

“I’ll be in the car.” He mutters. Any faster and I would have to hold down the papers around me.

When he’s gone beyond sight, I turn back to the open door.

“What’s the matter with him?” I hear Graham asking inside.

“You keep pushing him,” Jeff responds with irritation. “That’s not his brand Graham.”

“Well that’s a different tune. Prior to this you were singing my praises with these new ideas.”

“I don’t know. Something’s been up with him for…a while-“

“Since that article isn’t it?” Graham references the Harry Styles slander when we were in Spain. Little did they know other things had also happened.

“We dealt with that article.”

Shit, I think. Has he been any different? I think I was keeping too much distance from him to notice.

“Y/n,” my name snaps me out of my thoughts.

“Mhm?” I’m beckoned to the meeting room. “Yes?”

“Find out what’s wrong with him. Or better yet just convince him to be a bit more alive at his last show tomorrow with his usual charm? He hasn’t been his full capacity the last few shows has he?”

Shit. “Um. Burnout?”

The two men look at each other. They make a face like that couldn’t possibly be why. I tell the men what they want to hear, that I’d try to find out and get him back to his charming self (yuck) before joining Harry in the car.

“Jeff and Graham aren’t all that happy with you,” I say when we start driving. Harry was giving me a lift home. “They’re insisting you do it right at your final tomorrow. Be your charming self.”

He grunts in response, head facing the window again. Was he allergic to look forward in the car or something?

“Are you coming?” He asks after a good ten minutes of silence.

“Tomorrow?”

“Mhm.”

“Yeah. I gave my extra tickets to…my fiance,” my brain fumbles my words as it remembers what he was and now is. And the lie I had to keep up. “And his sister and her friend.”

He just nods in acknowledgement, somehow stonier.

When the car pulls up to my familiar building I thank his driver and begin my shimmy out but Harry puts a hand to my knee to stop me. His touch sears right through my stockings and he must feel it too because he slides his hand back.

“Answer this,” he looks at me for the first time tonight. Wow, this really did feel like my first week on the job.

“Sure,” I reply.

“Is it because of that night?”

It’s the first time it’s been mentioned, and his gaze burns brighter than a forest fire. It’s mesmerizing and I can’t look away.

Wait, he wanted an answer.

“It’s because of a lot of things,” I answer truthfully.

He clenches his jaw. Leans back in his seat. The seatbelt reverses to hold him in place again and he’s no longer looking at me. I take that as my cue to go.

***

Josie bursts into the flat dressed to the nines in a groovy floral jumpsuit and boas in her hand. “Don’t worry. I have one for each of us.”

Her friend trails behind her in an equally 70s inspired look.

“That’s what you’re wearing?” Josie judges her brother’s hoodie and jeans. “You’re lowering the vibe Gray do better. Y/n? Why didn’t you brief him?”

“I did!” I eye Gray. “Don’t blame me.”

This was way more awkward than I thought. Or I really was not as good of an actress as I wished.

“What am I supposed to wear?” Gray asks. “I’m not wearing a jumpsuit.”

Josie rolls her eyes. “Y/n please drag him back and find a decent tee or something?”

“Yes ma’am,” I take Gray by the arm and take him back.

“This is kinda weird hey?” I whisper when we close the door.

“I don’t really like it either,” Gray scratches his head. “But it’s for the best.”

I nod and then louder announce, “Well it’s Jo’s night so find something a tad more retro?”

We end up with a red tee and find a belt to tie the look. Josie hugs her brother with thanks when she sees it.

I had on a pair of black bellbottoms paired with a blank tank. My hair was in spacebuns and Josie plucks a few boa feathers to accessorize my hair. It’s cute.

We head off and I have to make a conscious effort to remember my mannerisms with Gray before all this. I feel woozy while I slide my hand into his on the ride there, as Josie snaps our pics on her disposable, as she tells us to get one of us where Gray’s kissing my cheek and she’ll save it to show our kids. It makes me sick.

He keeps an arm on my waist as we walk. I want this night to be over so bad but every time I look Josie’s way I perk back up a little. I wanted her to enjoy this.

And she does. I’m sure she’s lost her voice by the end of the concert. At one point we drift away a little and breathe easier to drop the act but when she’s back Gray wraps his arms around me from behind and we act like a happy couple. Again, I felt sick.

Being in Gray’s arms held none of the spark it used to. I just feel awkward and sad.

At one point Harry looks my way, I don’t know how he spotted me in such a big crowd. It’s between songs and he looks at the group I’m with. I give a pathetic wave and he nods ever so slightly, his gaze sliding off soon after. Gray’s arm tightens around my shoulder and my heart gives a squeeze in response. I’m reminded: this era was ending.

The band told me to meet them backstage at the end, to join in on the final-show celebration. Josie and Gray would wait at a local pub and with the way Josie’s Instagram stories were glowing I could imagine her sitting there uploading it all.

“I couldn’t have done it without any of you,” I catch Harry saying as I slip behind stage with my pass. “I know I’ve not been the easiest to be with but you all sit in my heart. This is our Euro tour, concluded.”

Somebody pops bubbly and I congratulate the whole team as they drink. They insist on going out for proper drinks and I’m denied not going. They tell me to invite my guests to party with them and I know, based on where we were going, Josie was going to flip.

Juniper, a club that gets us all in on Harry’s face card, is opulent and lively on the inside. Josie is buzzing about with her friend—Gray had opted to go home, claiming he had early morning sessions. Josie didn’t think twice about him, but we pretended to go back and forth with a final warning from Gray to Josie to behave.

“He’s a broody one,” Charlie comments on Gray as we chatter while we get drinks. “Sister?”

“Yeah. Doesn’t know yet though so,” I put my finger to my lip.

“So no Barcelona dancing tonight?” Sarah teases. I laugh and tell them to keep me tamed. “We gotta do some shots with the team though where is everyone?”

We gaze around the room and manage to get everyone together. After one round of shots and another that Harry forced on all of us I feel the tension I’ve been carrying with me most days slide away.

We end up sticking together as a group and dance together, laughing and cheering each other on. Even Harry’s in a cheery mood—I suspect the alcohol. I catch him watching me at one point and when I raise my brow he takes my hand and spins me in a friendly twirl. I trip on my wide-legged pants and he catches me from behind. With my back to his chest I have the urge to turn around and kiss him and feel the peculiar comfort I had received from him before. That thought drives me away from him again. Despite the tight knit group there’s too much between us to even attempt being close.

I call it quits when Josie finds me and announces she was going home. I hug the newfound family I had made over the last few months one final goodbye, knowing I might never see them together like this again.

***

Jeff’s reaction to my news surprises me the most. He’s visibly upset and tries to sell me anything to stay. I tell him there was nothing to keep me at my job but I would rely on him for a good reference. I think it’s the first time he’s ever reassured me.

Between Harry and I it remains curt. Sometimes even edgy. I post my own job replacement and Jeff keeps me updated on potential candidates. By the time my last week rolls around I’m host to a roil of emotions.

The first week homeless, Charlie had let me crash on her couch and promised not to say a word to anyone. I didn’t want to overstay my welcome and so I had checked into a hotel and called it home for now.

I’m on my way back home to the hotel after being at Gray’s. We’d invited Josie over for dinner now that her exams were over and she’d been suspicious from the start.

We had told her the truth and she refused to believe it, hurt and betrayal in her eyes as she looked at me and realized she had been kept in the dark for the last week. I felt worse then, than I did when Gray and I called it quits.

I promised her a lunch together this week to talk more. Just because I was out of Gray’s life didn’t mean I had to be out of hers. I thought I could also tell her then that I was leaving to go back home.

On my second last day at work, Harry sends me on an errand near the end of the day. When I get back there’s a small group of friendly and familiar faces waiting to surprise me. I’m touched by the gesture, and I try to corner Harry to say thank you but it feels he avoids me at every chance, always in a larger crowd.

I finally catch him while I’m heading out of the bathroom and he’s heading down the hall.

“Oh hey,” I step in his way. He looks cornered. “I just wanted to say thanks for throwing this.”

“Yeah,” he gestures it was nothing. “It was Jeff’s idea.”

Ouch. I hide the sting. “Well. Thanks regardless.”

He nods, staying mute, but his eyes speak a thousand words—just none that I can read. They stay trained on me, communicating whatever.

Slowly the furrow between his brows eases and the sharp edges of his face give way to a softened expression. I’m scared to move in case I break the trance and don’t get to hear whatever his racing thoughts spit out. Just when it looks like he’s about to say something, a guest turns the corner up the hall.

“Anyone in the toilet?” It was Mitch. Damnit.

“Nope,” I step out of the way, inadvertently brushing Harry. A shiver runs up my spine and I try to act casual but he stiffens beside me. Was it that awful being around me, jeez.

I give up. If he wanted to continue staying moody, so be it. I leave to go back to the party and don’t look back.

My final days in London are hard. The same way I arrived, I go: alone and unsure of what’s ahead.

I always thought here was where I would stay forever. And maybe one day I would return but there was a little too much friction between me and the Capital.

I finish work on an unremarkable note after going through processes with the new hire, and dotting all of my i’s. Harry is nowhere to be seen and I’m gone before he gets back. I’m frustrated that he’s behaving this way but there’s also too much between us for the simple goodbye I yearn for.

I visit all of my old favourites, have one last drink at my old local pub somewhere in between Gray’s flat and Harry’s. I shed a lot of tears on my pilgrimage through the city’s veins. I promise the paved and cobblestone roads I would be back one day.

The walls of my lungs ease open on the flight home. Still, tears cascade down my face silently as the plane sleeps. Eventually I do too. When I wake the sky is filled with bright blinding sunrise, and American soil peeks out below me: I was finally home.

••••••••••••••••••••

Present (2 years on):

My heart flutters seeing Harry here, I chalk it up to anxiety. But it annoys me that despite all the distance and the growth, he still had an effect on me.

Harry’s head turns and before I can be smart about it our eyes lock. His eyebrows raise ever so slightly before his face falls into a nonchalant facade again. I don’t even want to know what my face looked like.

Then he gets the nerve to smirk, hang his head, and then grab his drink and walk towards me.

“If I had a cross I would be holding it up right now.” I have to shout a little so he hears me before he gets to me. He was an emotional vampire feeding on all of mine.

“Now why’s that?” He continues towards me. My emotions swirl through me. “I thought time heals all wounds. Why the unfriendly welcome Mrs. Duran?”

I grit my teeth at the name, he was still filled with poison. “Right, the timeless wisdom of clichés.”

“I like to think I’m pretty timeless.” He smiles.

“I’ve found that time may heal wounds, but scars make sure you never forget.”

“Well, scars aside, you look good,” he moves on and I feel like an idiot the way I was used to feeling around him.

“Of course I do.”

“What are you doing in London? Last I checked I was getting a reference check from America.”

I debate not answering him but I was trying to straddle the line between indifference and confidence. It was like walking a tightrope.

“I’m in London for a little while,” I give vaguely.

“Ah,” he smiles and damnit I forgot how handsome he could be. How handsome could then turn into seductive so quickly. I had to remember: Still a devil. “Are you looking for a new employer? Because I could be hiri-“

“No.” I cut him off. “I finally have a job I love so I’m good.”

Something flickers in his eyes but surprisingly he stays quiet.

“What are you doing here? At The Violinist?” I ask. I sort of wish I still had a drink in my hand, they feel awkward and clunky and I want to avoid playing with my hair. Gah. “Global star drinks alone at his local bar?”

He laughs but I can tell I hit a minor nerve. “Here I’m just a local. Always have been—it’s nice to be anonymous for a little bit.”

I roll my eyes. I didn’t believe that for a second. He loved his fame and everything that came with it.

Plus I used to come here all the time, I would’ve known if my employer was a local too. He was lying for some reason.

“Mr. Styles if there’s one thing I remember about you, you’d choose death over anonymity.”

“Firstly,” he leans in and I get a whiff of his usual cologne with a hint of malt. “A person can change a lot. So maybe you don’t know me as much as you think you do-“

“Oh I don’t think anyone can change that drastically in only a year-“

“You seemed to have.”

His words take mine out of my mouth. I hadn’t changed, not really. I’d always been this y/n but the further I got away from him the more reassured I had gotten being that y/n.

“And secondly,” he continues before I could think of a response. “You no longer work for me. Harry is fine.”

The smile he throws me is almost sweet if I didn’t know the cruelty that could hide underneath. I don’t return the smile, I only raise my brow and look back down at my phone. My cell service hasn’t gotten any better and I’d missed the wifi password.

I could connect to Harry’s wifi, ask him so that I could order an uber.

I’d rather van gogh my ear.

I weigh all my options and consider the last one again. I look up to see what Harry was doing in the silence and find him looking at me. A shiver runs up my spine as our eyes clash. So much history and words unspoken fall in between. A very specific night flashes through my mind. I wonder if it does him because he looks down first. Damn.

“So I’ve gotta get going,” I say.

“Let me buy you a drink.” He says at the same time.

He laughs awkwardly and repeats, “One drink?”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Why not?”

“We’re not drinking buddies.” I pull my purse to my chest, wanting to hop off this stool and run home if I need to. Put as much distance between myself and this man that was put on this earth to confuse me.

“Then what are we y/n?” He asks, his voice silky smooth as he leans in. The voice that whispered sweet nothings into my ear in my worst nightmares, nightmares of cotton sheets and heated limbs, of passion and shame.

“Ex-employer,” I point to him. I point to myself, “Ex-employee.”

“Exes have drinks together,” he grins full well knowing the double meaning.

“Never ends well,” I eye the door.

“Just as stubborn as I remember.”

“And you were saying people change?” I raise my brow.

He drops the smile and sighs, “I’m not gonna be able to convince ya am I?”

I shake my head. He should know that by now.

“Can I walk you out at least?”

I shrug, couldn’t hurt.

“What is this?” I ask as he opens the door for me.

“What?”

“This? Why are you trying to be so friendly?”

“I thought we could be friendly exes.”

And when did he get so cheeky.

“Something weird is going on,” I watch him stay in step with me as I walk up. With no service I was going to take the tube. “And I don’t like it.”

“Nothing weird is going on don’t get all paranoid on me.”

“Don’t call me paranoid! You never call a woman paranoid.”

“I thought that was conspiracy theorists?”

“Nooo. You’re being weird.”

"Alright, no need to get all Freudian on me. Just trying to be a decent human here."

I shake my head, somehow in our exchange my face had decided it was okay to smile. To forget what he put me through and remember instead that when things were good between us we actually got along.

Damnit. The devil knew how to play tricks. I wipe the smile off my face while he continues walking with me.

“So…what have you been up to?” He asks.

“Working, you know me.” I say after trying to figure out what his angle was but unable to find one.

“Oretta Smith I hear, how did you manage that?”

“I’m just that good Harry,” I say. His name is weird in my mouth. Sure I called him that in my head but I usually used Mr. Styles. I can tell he feels the same with his quick glance my way.

“How do you like that?”

“Yeah, she’s a great employer like I said. Very professional. Lots of flexibility.” Each praise is a knock to his ego. But it was all true, plus with Winnie joining the team I had a friend my age that felt great.

But there was also a darker side called burnout that I barely admitted to myself. Ever since we landed in London and I had time to orient my new self in a city that molded my old self, I felt the familiar singe of purposeless. But I keep it to myself of course.

“Great.” Harry responds curtly. “What about yourself? How’s your life, are you finally married?”

My instinct is to raise my defences and chew him out, he must know Gray and I were done what with me living in the States.

And yet, when I peer past the defences and take a long hard look at him I realize he is asking earnestly and without another angle.

We’re nearing the tube now. I hesitate in lying or telling the truth.

“We broke up,” I choose to confess. I peek at him and he looks surprised, even sorry.

“I didn’t know. Sorry.”

“I’d hope not,” I reply. “Otherwise you’d be an asshole calling me Mrs. Duran.”

He huffs an awkward laugh.

“Anyway this is me—

“I can give you a ride home—wherever that is right now?” He asks.

We’re stood in front of the glass doors. There’s not a lot of people this time of night. And as tempting as his offer was, the way he looks at me right now sends poisonous butterflies to my stomach and I think it’s best I get home for the big day tomorrow and not make any regrets.

“I’m not too far,” I lie. I point a thumb to the doors behind me. “I’m just gonna…”

“Yeah. Yeah right.” He’s awkward, which is a first. He clears his throat and stuffs his hand into his pocket. I watch him with a removed sort of curiosity. Eventually he coughs out his question. “How long are you in London for?”

“A few weeks,” I reply.

He finally meets my eyes again—and there goes my stomach. He was supposed to have zero effect on me, I was supposed to stay mad at him. Why was my body betraying me? Why did it continue to loop memories from that night and remind me of the things he whispered in the dark?

“A few weeks,” he murmurs back.

His gaze travels over my face openly, no longer holding back the barely-hidden expressions from before. Because I told him Gray and I weren’t a thing? Because I was entertaining whatever bullshit this was?

“Yep,” I nod. Awkward. Nervous. Cautious.

“My number’s the same,” his eyes snap back to mine. “If you want to go for that drink later.”

“Harry,” I try to break it to him another way. I wish I could just say I never want that drink. “I don’t think-“

“Don’t think,” he cuts me off. He laughs when I furrow my brows. “I mean, I’m right here for most of the next few weeks. When you feel like you want to have that drink just give me a call. Or text.”

Why, I want to ask him. Why, after all this time, after everything that happened? And it’s like he reads my mind in the silence.

“I know you left on a pretty poor note.” He shuffles his feet. “I know a lot of that was my fault. I apologize for that. Um, but I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and…you are missed. Even Jeff remembers you fondly. Which is saying something.”

This was some sort of prank. Or Harry had gotten so famous he now had a doppelgänger roaming the streets as him. It couldn’t be that Harry, my Harry, would say something so sentimental and so…genuine.

“So uh yeah, I would love to see you again while you’re in town.” He says when I don’t respond.

“Right.” I choke out.

He shrugs when I can’t bring myself to say anything more. “We do change, whether you believe it or not y/n.”

I swallow, hoping to lubricate my vocal cords and find my voice. “I-I really do have to go.”

Crestfallen, he nods. His hand comes up to touch my elbow. “Yeah ‘course. Just…think about it?”

I look down at his hand and he lets go, we stay in another bubble of silence. His eyes flicker down to my lips and I feel a wave of warmth as I try not to do the same.

“Goodnight,” I blurt and get to the other side of the glass doors. He watches me go.

On the escalator down I risk a glance back and he’s still there, watching until I’m out of sight. That ended incredibly awkward.

Leave it up to Harry to confuse me in coming back into my life. Damn him, he could never be consistent.

***

Waking up super early to catch the train out to Cambridge is so worth it because I get to watch Josie walk the stage and graduate with distinction wearing her famous smile that beams over the vast room.

Despite what happened with Gray and I, Josie and I have kept in touch steadily over the last year. It started as weekly facetimes which reduced down to monthly calls and have now become a steady stream of texts and memes swapped back and forth.

When she found out I’d be in London around her graduation dates she gave me no choice but to show up, sending me a ticket without asking.

I knew I’d see Gray, and a part of me was nervous and curious how that was going to go. But mostly I was grateful to still be in Josie’s life and spend time with her in person. She was the part of this life I missed most.

I’m sat somewhere in the middle of the room and Josie was smart enough not to seat me with the rest of her guests. But I know I would see everyone during photos and the dinner we were having later on. I try keep my focus on the ceremony however.

“Y/N!” Josie rushes towards me when she sees me after the ceremony. The group she departs from I recognize is a mix of her girl friends, her family, and a few others.

“Josie!” I return the same energy and she leaps into my arms. I squeeze her tight to me. “I’m soo proud of you my girl.”

We sway side to side, until we get enough hug.

“Look at you!” She exclaims when she leans back. “Your hair looks amazing and you are glowing. Please tell me you have a boy in your life.”

“No,” I laugh.

“A girl?” She asks hesitantly.

“No! I’m just…happy where I am right now! How about you look at you! You look phenomenal as per.”

“Oh thanks,” she takes the compliment and giggles. “I asked my dad to grad gift me a salon and spa visit so I am rejuvenated and blown out.”

“Aren’t you ever,” I touch a lock of her hair. “Congratulations.”

“Eek!” She squeals. “Finally finished this hellscape! I can’t wait to never write an exam again—ooh wait I want you to meet my boy…”

“So that’s why we’re actually glowing,” I tease as she tugs me towards the group. That definitely has Gray. My stomach drops the closer we get, he doesn’t seem to notice. He looks busy talking to one of Josie’s friends.

“Anyway,” she deposits me in front of a 6 foot something guy made of angles. “This is Jax. My boyfriend. We met during a Friendsgiving Myles threw last year.”

“Nice to meet you,” Jax smiles. “Y/N right?”

“Yes!”

“I was supposed to get around to that,” Josie huffs.

“Sorry she talked about you a lot when she found out you were coming. She was really excited.”

“Ugh,” she turns to me like she was embarrassed but her face is glowing. Josie was in looove.

“You two are so cute,” I tease which just makes Josie blush a little harder. “So are we getting any pictures?”

“Oh yeah,” Jax swivels his head. “Liliya has the good camera if you want to get-“

“Oh we can use our phones,” Josie cuts him off.

“No get the high res one—Liliya, camera?” Jax motions a shuttering action to the friend Gray was talking to. He’s so tall above the crowd that both look up at him and comply.

“Y/N,” Josie drags my arms back and takes me on the outskirt of the crowd. “I’m so sorry I never mentioned because I thought you wouldn’t come if I did tell you but you-“

“Y/N?”

Josie’s rushed whispers are cut short when Gray notices me and calls my name. He looks stupefied. I spare a glance to Josie and she’s paled.

She didn’t tell him.

“Hey,” I force a friendly tone. I was going to kill that girl.

“Did you all want a photo?” Josie’s friend Liliya shoulders her way back into the circle with the camera on a strap. She turns to Gray, “Babe?”

It’s an odd sensation, like all oxygen has left my lungs and they’re being squeezed as if tightened in a vice. Gray’s eyes drag away from me to his…girlfriend? Definitely not Josie’s friend.

It shakes me in the moment how much I realize I still cared, still carried a shred of hope for…something. And not consciously knowing this makes this moment feel a little like a slap in the face.

What did I think? I was going to leave this country for a year and people were going to pause where I last left them? Of course Gray’s moved on. Aside from the end he was a great partner and anybody would want that.

These thoughts race through my head in the few seconds Gray responds to his girlfriend and I look at Josie. She looks guilty as charged.

“I tried to tell you just now?” She whispers.

Deep breaths, I remind myself. You’re not the hot-headed y/n these people knew last. This day is not about you. It’s about Josie.

“It’s cool. Let’s get some photos,” I smile. “Don’t want to miss having them with you.”

She sighs but keeps her eyes on my face as we walk farther out.

“I am really sorry,” she whispers.

“Hey it’s alright,” I lie. This was the worst of it—Gray had moved on, had a great girlfriend, and I was living the life I wanted. No harm and no foul. “Honestly Jo I get it, you wanted me here reallllly bad.”

“I did!” She says. “But I’m also gonna kill Jax.”

I laugh and we straighten up when we realize the camera was already pointed at us. Josie flashes her degree and a few of her friends join the pictures too. We hustle back to Gray to see them and flipping back on the first few makes my breath catch in my throat. There’s one in particular where Josie is turned to me talking and my mouth is in a big grin because I’m laughing.

I catch eyes with Gray in an uncomfortably intimate second.

“Send me that one for sure wow Gray that’s a really good shot.”

“Oh wow,” his girlfriend peers over. “That’s a great candid.”

“Yeah,” I agree. I’d love a copy too. And of course that’s when Gray’s girlfriend notices me and introduces herself.

“I don’t think we’ve met—is that an American accent I detect?”

“It is,” I smile. “I’m Y/N.”

“Oh!” Two spots of pink appear on her face. It seems she’s heard of me. “Well it’s nice to meet you—nice that Josie invited you! I’m Liliya but Lily works too.”

“C’mon!” Josie interrupts the awkward by grabbing her brother’s arm and pushes him in the direction of where her friends are posing for photos. He takes some shots but Josie hates the look of them and gives the camera to Lily instead.

With just Gray and I left behind it grows very awkward.

“I thought Josie told everyone I would be-“ I say just as he says, “I didn’t realize you would be-“

We stop and chuckle awkwardly.

“Sorry,” I shake my head.

“No,” he shrugs. “It’s cool. It’s cool you’re here actually.”

“Okay,” is all I can say. Until the awkward silence stretches. “So…Liliya?”

“Yeah. Yeah, Liliya. You?”

I want to lie, but I shake my head. “No. Sorta needed the year to breathe a little.”

“Fair. How’s America?”

“Oh y’know, still super-sized and politically a guessing game.”

“Have you turned on our news while you’ve been down at all?” He raises a brow. I laugh because he was right. It was all a shitshow everywhere.

He asks me about my family as Josie jogs up to us.

“Okay, tell me the truth is my hair going flat?”

“No,” I look behind her where her friends are hovering over Lily and the camera going over their photos.

“Good. Where’s mum and dad?” Josie asks Gray. “Dad was just here 10 minutes ago he said he’d come by for—oh there’s mum! Look!”

We turn to where she points. Michelle—what I’ve always called Gray’s mom, spots her daughter at the same time and waves. She starts to walk towards us.

It’s nice to see her but I also feel a bit nervous; going cold turkey on relationships you only had because of an ex are always weird to come back to. Especially ones you were fond of.

“Mum! You’re missing all the pictures!” Josie says. “Where’ve you been!?”

“I just saw somebody I knew back from my first job as a librarian can you believe that?” Michelle says as she joins the group.

“Crazy. Well mum look who got to show up today! Isn’t that crazy too?”

Michelle looks at me and the bright smile that was intended for her daughter dies like a flower in overnight frost. The look wipes the anticipation off my face.

“Who?”

That one word shades the sun from the sky and brings forth a gust of western winds through the group.

“Mum,” Josie look between me, her mum, and Gray. She’s confused. “Y/N?”

“Hey Michelle,” I croak. Maybe my hair was too different for her to recognize me, or maybe she had early onset alzheimers. Surely this woman who I’ve had a better relationship with than her own son has wouldn’t be treating me like your worst frenemy at your high school reunion.

But Michelle looks right through me. I can’t explain how it feels, not in the moment. I’m gutted, and feel an unexplainable wave of sadness.

“Mum…” Josie sounds hurt and Gray finally decides to swoop in.

“Mum let’s check out the photos we took already. We gotta get some of the three of us.”

They walk away and I feel seven inches tall but I turn to Josie with a brave face and face her teary one.

“That was kind of awkward,” I downplay.

“Y/N I’m honestly so sorry I-,” Josie blinks rapidly.

“No it’s ok!”

“I don’t know why she acted like that-“

“Hey It’s natural for her to feel that way I’m alright don’t get upset-“

“It’s not alright though! That was such a…she never acts like that.”

It was true. Michelle was a free-spirit as she called herself. That’s why Gray had such a hard relationship with her; in his words, she was too emotional and ungrounded for him.

Yet apparently, she was able to find enough ground to stand on when it came to treating me like a nobody. I wonder if it’s because she heard Gray’s biased side of the story or she was hurt herself—still, the way she’s always talked about herself never struck me as someone who would believe a one-sided story. Or be a bitch to someone they previously called their daughter. It hurt like a mofo.

I didn’t want Josie to find out this way, here of all places, that her mom was just human after all. She idolized that woman.

So even though it hurt, I comfort her instead.

“She probably just feels betrayed by me leaving and stuff since we were close too. Imagine if Jax broke up with you and she gave him the cold shoulder—wouldn’t you feel justified?”

Josie scrunches her brows to think about the simplified story I’ve just fed her to feel better. I can tell it still doesn’t sit well with her but she nods in acceptance, “I guess.”

“Yeah, just forget it Josie. Plus you’ve got pictures to take so dry those eyes.”

“Shit I know,” she blinks some more. “I’m sorry! I didn’t mean to invite you here and twist the knife at every bloody turn.”

“Jo I’m honoured to get to be here and see all your hard work pay off. Don’t worry about anything else.”

“It’s unfair,” she says before she drifts to her group of friends. “I feel like nobody understands how…how understanding you are. But I’m really glad we’re still in touch. And you came for me.”

Her words bring tears to my eyes and I nod, afraid that talking would bring them forward. I watch her crash her group and start instructing photo coordination. I help hold things for people while they take photos and feel like a stranger outside the crowd. If it weren’t for Josie, I think I would have regretted coming here. I feel homesick and unwanted. A tough combo.

I was supposed to crash on someone’s couch tonight and do brunch with Josie tomorrow before going back to London but from the last half hour alone I know I’m going back to the city no matter how late it gets tonight. I think of the hotel room that was home right now, of how lonely that was going to feel to go back to too.

Home right now was in America, in the same time zone as my family, and comfortable in my shared apartment with one of my high school best friends who I reconnected with after going back home. I miss it so bad. And I feel like I’ve bitten into an unripe fruit coming back to the UK before I was ready apparently. My experience feels soured.

I shake off the doom and gloom when the party breaks. We were all going to meet at the restaurant at 6–my plan was to explore the university city and find a place to kill some time in. Maybe go outside to a park with lunch. Josie tries to convince me to join her and her friends for their mid-day celebration but I lie and tell her I had some work to do.

I call Winnie on my stroll through the city. I insist she update me on last night first, and she has more to tell—the guy had a yacht and he was inviting her to a party tonight. She tells me to join if I came back early and we cross our fingers that Oretta wouldn’t need her before then.

I originally called her to rant about Michelle and Gray but I don’t, I didn’t want to kill her vibe. So I scroll through my other contacts but don’t want to worry my mom and it was too early back home to reach anyone else.

My eyes catch on Harry’s name, he was at the top of my texts currently because he sent me a link this afternoon asking me for thoughts on it. I hadn’t opened it yet, I wasn’t sure what to think about this new persona he was wearing or that he thought yesterday’s run-in went okay enough to casually message me for my thoughts.

I remember the weird electricity of yesterday and shove my phone back into my pocket.

He genuinely wanted to have a drink? And talk??

I did enjoy having you around. You were excellent at your job and you are missed.

Was he trying to make up for his cruel words? But he also seemed a lot more mellow than before. Maybe that was just because I didn’t work for him. What did he want? And was I twisted for believing the new schtick?

Most curious of all was him at the pub in the first place. He was not a local there—that was a big lie.

I try to conjure up my previous hatred, calling him the Devil in my head. But it’s harder to do. Seeing him yesterday, he was just a man standing in front of a woman with a head full of cautionary tales and bad experiences.

Without warning images from that night come back and I feel my heart flutter. I shut them down just as quick. Not all bad, my body tries to remind me. I tell it to shut up.

I’ve barely stepped foot in this country again and already my mind was running circles around my heart. How exhausting.

***

I’m early to the restaurant, before anyone else apparently. As the hostess finds my name on her floor plan Josie comes in behind me with Jax.

“Oh! Y/n you’re early!” She seems flustered.

“Yeah I didn’t think I would be,” it was only a few minutes to 6.

We make small talk while we’re led to the table, Josie’s eyes keep darting to where our table might be.

“Sorry I was hoping to do this before you came,” she says when we get there. There are name cards along the 7 seats and she picks the one in front of me. “I’m just gonna move mum to my other side so it doesn’t get weird. Which means she’ll be closer to dad but…I think he’s bailing since his girlfriend doesn’t want to do this.”

Josie shrugs, I know how she feels about her dad’s girlfriend. She begins explaining the plans she has to do dinner with her dad later this week and the more she talks the more I can tell that she feels awkward. And I hate that it’s because of me. At one point Jax and I catch eyes and pass an awkward smile.

“Josefina Duran,” I walk up to her fiddling with the name tags. She stops talking immediately. I grip her shoulders. “Thanks.”

“Sorry,” she whispers. I wrap my arms around her and she melts into me.

“Stop apologizing.”

“Sorry. I can’t help it. It’s a disease.”

We let go with a laugh and she seems more stable. “This is going to be fine.”

Famous last words.

It’s definitely not fine and very awkward. Jax ends up sitting in front of me, and even though Liliya’s name tag was beside mine it’s suddenly swapped as they slide in and Gray sits beside me. I guess it might be too awkward for her but not awkward enough to fit someone we both dated between us.

I can sense Michelle’s pinched face as she notices us sitting beside each other and I feel badly for Josie the most as she tries to play the gracious host. At one point I sense Jax laying a hand on her arm and taking over, asking Michelle questions about her yoga and getting her talking.

“Did you need more?” Gray turns to me with the wine bottle, it’s the second thing he’s said to me tonight. Otherwise he mostly just watches me talk and leans back enough when others are talking so I can be involved.

“I’m okay,” I whisper. I didn’t want to draw any attention while Michelle was talking. She hadn’t said a peep to me, even when Josie tried to involve us both in a shared memory. She continued acting like I was Casper the ghost.

I can feel Lily’s eyes on us as Gray offers wine, of course they would be. No wonder Gray barely spoke to me all night. Fuck me, what was I doing here.

Jax is a sweetheart, asking me about my job and encouraging conversation between the both of us. I’m so happy for Josie that she found a partner like him.

By the time dinner is over I mostly want to cry. I feel spent. But I also feel like I crashed an intimate dinner and everyone’s polite enough not to mention it. Despite Josie, I do actually regret coming.

As we pay the bill and shuffle out, Josie grabs my arm.

“So I have two friends where you can crash at their place or Jax can sleep over at mine and you can sleep at his or-“

“I think I’m gonna head back to the city.”

Her face falls. But it’s like she knew I was going to say that.

“Sorry Jo. I think you should come to the city next week—maybe visit your brother? And while you’re down we’ll do brunch then. I’m mostly free while I’m here. I’m just pretty tired and have to help Winnie with something tomorrow.”

“Really?” She says in the smallest voice I’ve heard out of her. Salt to my wounds.

“Yeah, I’m sorry. I know we were looking forward to getting time together.”

She juts out her lip and I’m reminded of the girl I met when I first started dating Gray. How she’d taken to me so quickly. How the whole family had. How things could end up like this.

And suddenly I see the future laid out in front of me. After tonight it would be hard to keep this relationship going—Josie and I. She’s just seen her mom be an unreasonable bitch for the first time, I can tell she’s been trying to compensate all night but the cracks won’t go away. It’ll always be a sitting duck between us.

We might try to stay in touch, maybe I’d reach out if I was ever in London or if she ever visited the west coast. But this would fizzle out.

She was still young and naive enough that her mom hung the moon and stars; mom’s beliefs were gospel, her opinions were rulings, and she’d just delivered my ultimate sentence: I was a black sheep to the family. How could sweet Josie walk through a mess like that?

“I’m so proud of you,” I tell her as I fight tears. “Congratulations again and thank you for inviting me.”

“Thanks. And you don’t have to be so nice. I know it was kind of a shitty invite.”

“No,” I insist. “I loved being here. I don’t regret showing up for you. I can’t wait to hear what you get up to.”

“I’m going to make sure to make it to the city next week,” she squeezes my arm. “We’ll see each other soon.”

“Exactly,” I look over at the rest of the group, where her boyfriend waits for her. Her family. “And I really like Jax, so good on you for that.”

“He…” she twists her lips, swallowing what she was going to say before vomiting it out. “I always aspired to have a relationship like yours and Gray’s. I never wanted to settle for anything less so that’s…that’s why Jax.”

“Hm I think you made us the bar and you leapt over it babe,” I wrap my arms around her again. I ache with the loss of what we used to be.

“See you soon,” she says before she drags herself back to the group.

I stand off to the side, awkwardly ordering an Uber. The group begins to walk the opposite way waving bye to me. I breathe easier without the weight of them around.

As I tap my foot in anticipation of the ride to the station arriving, I feel a hand tap my shoulder.

“Y/n,” it’s Gray. “Hey I…I just wanted to say something before you left.”

“Oh. Hey yeah. Shoot.”

What was it with everyone wanting to say something to me.

“Uh…ok give me a minute,” he laughs in the way I know to mean he was feeling nervous. “I just sort of jogged back impulsively.”

“Yeah well you have,” I glance at my phone. “4 or so minutes.”

“Damn,” he ruffles his hair. “Alright. I think I just wanna say sorry.”

“Oh.” That was it. Everyone had something to say to me and the something was apparently sorry.

“Yeah I’m sorry. I…when we broke up I was so upset and caught up in my own head. I blamed you for everything. I think it only hit me when you just up and moved out of the country how things actually went down.”

I hadn’t told anyone but Josie that I was leaving.

“Yeah you were just like gone.” He continues. “I guess a part of me thought we’d get some space, maybe circle back later…”

“You really betrayed me,” I remind him.

But even I know what he means. He hurt me bad and it might be crazy stupid but on some level we were both aware we were in an ugly place and maybe with some space we might come back to the place that was good for us again. Maybe bump into each other one day, strike up a conversation, find there might still be a small amount of love left. Enough to water and grow again.

“I know,” he sighs. “I know. I hate that I hurt you like that. I regret…I actually don’t really hang out with that group of friends as much anymore. I sorta have myself to blame but I didn’t like who I was with them.”

I listen, letting him speak. It hurt too, knowing this was the Grayson I had fallen in love with. Kind and supportive, and now apparently he’s learned to communicate. Maybe that was a Lily thing.

“I guess,” he blows the air out of his cheeks. “I want to say I’m really truly sorry. I missed you a lot after you left. Nothing was the same and life was fucking hard. I wish things didn’t end the way they did and I stayed mature but I was just jealous and angry.”

I nod to acknowledge what he’s saying and watch him take a breath to continue.

“And I always appreciated how you never let us shake your relationship with my sister because she bloody loves you—I don’t think how mum treated you was right today but I never really understood her in the first place. I’m sorry about that.”

“Yeah,” is all I can manage without making it obvious how emotional this was all making me. How one year could make me feel like a completely different person. How this man I loved, and still love in some way, could stand in front of me talking about us as something in the past. Because we were. Long past.

My phone dings with a notification that my ride would be here. We glance down and out into the street.

“Anyway,” he swallows. “I just wanna apologize. And say I genuinely hope you find love y/n. Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are. I hope you can forgive me one day. And I hope you’re successful as hell in whatever you pour yourself into.”

“Thank you Gray,” I want to say I was sorry too. For what it was worth. But my car pulls to the curb.

I wave at the driver to let them know I’d ordered it and we walk the few feet to the back door.

I face Gray and open my mouth to say it. Say something more: how I appreciated his words, how I was sorry for how things ended too, how I hope he is happy. But nothing comes out of my mouth. I just stare at him, my eyes welling with tears instead.

Gray holds out his hand and I look down at it. I knew those hands well and it’s like walking into a place you used to frequent in the past and have memories rush towards you as you remember: those hands held me and wrapped around my own and comforted me, they made me food and stroked my hair, and carried my bags when they got too heavy. They once wore an engagement band I gifted, they once held a small box with a life-changing question I had said yes to.

Now it was just a hand.

I clasp it and he squeezes.

“I know,” he says, his eyes trained on my watery ones. He squeezes again and lets go.

I rush into the car, those two words nearly cracking me in half. I wave goodbye through the tinted window and feel a wave of despair that pulls me down into the depths of darkness.

Too much was happening at once.

My emotions spiral out of me and I feel alone in this foreign country; I needed comfort where none could be found.

I don’t mean to. Or maybe I do. But on the train back to London I text Harry: is it too early to cash in on the drink?

His response is immediate: no, I was waiting for this text last night

I smile, despite myself.

Can I come over? I text with shaking hands.

H: For drinks?

Y: For drinks

H: Ofc.

***

The taxi drops me in front of the familiar building. I feel an echo of anxiety pierce through me as I go through the familiar doors. I nod at the concierge, the night replacement was new and I’m grateful nobody can recognize me making this potentially stupid decision.

For a brief second I wonder if Harry had other plans tonight but decide not to overthink it. He’d invited me openly. And maybe I was making a decision based on sadness and loneliness and grief and needing to be wanted but I make it. And I would make it like a grown woman—ready to accept the consequences.

I didn’t want to go back to my lonely hotel room. I didn’t want to call anyone and talk about what just happened. I didn’t have words. My body was taking the beating, feeling everything under the sun and now bruised and battered for it. I just wanted my body to forget that. And there was only one person in this godforsaken city that could help.

I’m let up to the penthouse and I forgot it had a distinct smell, wood-like and something indescribable. Weird that it felt comforting.

“You made it,” Harry comes into view in a simple pair of shorts and a long-sleeved white tee pushed up to his elbows. It’s the sleeves that really do it.

“I did.”

I leave my bags beside the elevator next to the umbrella stand, keeping my eyes on him. He doesn’t take his off mine either. I’m glad he doesn’t. Now I know he knows we both said drinks but meant something more.

He reaches out for me before I even get to him, and I know I would think about that later. A lot. But right then in the middle of his entryway I wrap my arms around his neck and lean up on my toes to reach him too.

His lips are soft against mine and he tucks me into him, his hand splayed out on my lower back. It feels like a return to a lover, someone who knows you, like I would’ve thought seeing Gray again would feel. But it’s just Harry, and the thought of baseless familiarity freaks me out a little.

The next time I feel his lips they’re on my jaw and neck and down to the base of my throat. He murmurs my name as he makes his way down and my body reacts immediately. He takes me by the waist and backs me up against the nearest wall, and I have a feeling I might fall.

I had made the conscious decision to walk into the devil’s lair because it was the only place I could get what I needed.

My fingers dig into his shoulders. My body wants this. Every part of me wants to pull him close and hold him and never let go. I wanted all of it tonight.

But I am so tired.

I put a hand on his chest and press gently. I can feel the warmth of his skin, the firmness of his muscles and the beat of his heart as he pauses.

“Sorry, I should have started with a hello. That was too fast was it?” He whispers, looking me straight in the eyes.

I have a million answers, but nothing comes. He puts his hand over mine and I feel it as a shiver runs up my spine.

"Is this too fast?" he asks again, and I hear the worry in his voice.

I shake my head.

He gives a breathy laugh, "Then tell me."

"I think I-“

“Don’t,” he covers my mouth with a laugh. “Please please. Don’t think.”

I smile under his palm and he drops his hand, I can tell he’s proud of lightening the moment by the sheen in his eyes. The moment is tender in a way that takes me back.

He brushes back my hair and kisses my forehead. I close my eyes, breathing in his cologne.

“That’s not where I want to be kissed,” I tell him.

“Then where?” He plays along.

“Anywhere but there.”

He kisses my nose. “There?”

“Not there,” I open my eyes to look up at him. “I’ll have you know that was very snotty just an hour ago.”

He groans, “you really have a way of taking the desire out of a situation.”

But his brows furrow and he watches me even closer.

“I don’t want to talk about it,” I respond to his unasked question.

With that statement he takes a painful step back and I nearly slide down the wall without his support.

“What?” I ask.

“We should take that drink first.”

I feel the loss of his body pressed against mine, I realize miserably.

“What do you mean? I thought the drinks were just an excuse?” I ask.

He laughs a little, “Maybe tonight, but I really did want to have a drink with you. And talk.”

“Harry,” I groan. “I’m all out of talking tonight. Truly.”

“As much as I want to say forget talking and take you to bed I need to do this…just follow me,” he leads me and my flushed body through to the main living area which I was well familiar with but it’d gotten a facelift. I make commentary on the changes and he tells me more about it as he pulls a wine he wants out for us.

“I changed things around a little after you left,” he says as he hands me the wine glass. “I needed it. The change.”

“Oh.” Is all I can muster. I follow him to the sofa, tonight he doesn’t leave as much space between us but it still feels like a weird parallel to the night I landed in the hospital; a confrontation with Gray leading me to wine with Harry. “Look Harry I don’t know if I can do this.”

“Why not?”

“I…I’m at minimal capacity right now I just-“

“Just let me talk then.”

“Why does everyone want to talk!”

“I need to tell you what I should have said a long time ago and I want to apologize-“

“You already did-“

“Properly.”

I cross my arms and sigh.

“Y/n bloody hell I forgot how quickly you can get under my skin.”

“So this isn’t a great thing then.”

“Y/N,” he says my name like a warning and I want to comply. I roll my eyes and knock back my glass of wine, the buzz from the glass at dinner has long since worn away.

“Part of me wants to top you up but another part remembers what happened last time.” Harry eyes me.

“No I’m okay with just one glass. Drinking when I’m upset doesn’t end well.”

“Yeah…I don’t want you concussed on my watch again.”

“No we don’t want that,” we smile at each other, a soft and sentimental smile that gets the anxious stuttering of my heart to calm down a little. He just wanted to talk, so what?

But the anxious voice runs through the scenarios he might want to—his recent text, or something I did as his PA he wants to take up now. Gah.

“I really have missed having you around,” he says softly.

“Didn’t feel like you would with how you treated me.” I raise my brow.

“I know.” He pauses then mumbles something before talking to me directly. “You must have heard about the PA before you? Maybe from Riley?”

“Kind of.”

“Kind of?”

“Hmmm this feels like a trick question.” I say but he tells me he just wants to know what I knew. So I rip the bandaid off. “You had a fling with her.”

He hangs his head back over the seat of the sofa and sighs. “I knew that piece of…Riley makes me really mad when I think about him sometimes.”

“Does he?” I raise my brow. “I can think of someone else who makes me madder.”

“I know that’s supposed to be me. And I don’t know what to do about that except come clean right now.”

“And why is that?” I ask. “Coming clean? I came here just to get distracted in bed with you. I never thought I’d live to see the day where a guy like you wants to talk instead.”

“Y/N,” he says with such an intense look my way my stomach flips. “Trust me. I want to have you in my bed more than you do. But I told myself if that day ever somehow happened it would be after this.”

I shrug, let him continue. In reality his words make me weak and I can’t speak. Which kind of annoys me—why did he have such a strong pull over me? How did he so easily admit he’s thought about me, about having me in his bed!?

My heart flutters amongst other things.

I remember a brief conversation I had with my mom last year when she asked me why I wasn’t putting myself out there and dating again and I told her I just didn’t have the heart for it. She had said it seems I left my heart in London—my passion and my heart. Sitting here with Harry stirs something inside of me, scares me, and I want to distract that with more wine. But I manage to control myself.

“I was fairly new to the industry when I hired Riley and it was his second proper job or something so we were both a bit young and we ended up being friendlier than we should have.” Harry starts. “But he was great at his job and never gave me any issues. I stayed naïve that people in this industry would look out for my best interest-“

“That’s really naïve,” I can’t help but comment but he throws me a look and I zip my lips. “Sorry.”

“I was lucky that the first few relationships I built as I got my foot in the door were genuine but I realized too late that it wasn’t a norm. Everyone wanted a piece of me and they all wanted me to be someone else. Some angle. Shit hit the fan pretty quickly. So when I needed more help I decided to create a new role for Riley and hire a PA. She was seasoned and came highly recommended.”

I nod along to his story.

“Long story short, she started out good but she kept trying to get me alone and get me talking. And back then after being friends with my old PA I didn’t have the wisdom of setting boundaries—don’t give me that look.”

“What!” I raise my hands. “I’m just listening.”

“You’re judging me.”

“Just continue,” I encourage. I was judging a little.

“Anyway, where I thought we were just friendly she thought I—I dunno I was falling for her or something. And one night she was working late so she had dinner here. She kept refilling my drink I didn’t realize she wasn’t drinking as much. It’s not much of an excuse but by the time she came onto me I was pissed and it didn’t take much.”

He continues the story like it was nothing but his voice catches a little and he doesn’t look me in the eye. My insides grow colder. I want to reach inside of him and hold the old Harry, the naive one who didn’t know better.

“Please don’t feel bad for me,” he cuts my sympathy short. “I didn’t turn into a great person after that. Especially with how I treated you.”

“That’s right.” I pretend to be unaffected by his story like he wanted me to be. But it’s near impossible.

“So that’s how I decided it was best for me to play the asshole. I couldn’t fire her after that—it would look awful and she could report me and screw me over. But I could make working for me a nightmare and so I did. A few months later she quit.”

He sighs and takes a swig of his wine, “Then you came along and I thought ‘I should play the asshole from the get go.’ I had gotten good by then at compartmentalizing my personality in the industry.”

“Hmph,” I raise a brow. He has the decency to look embarrassed but he continues.

“But the more time we spent together the worse I felt. You were nothing like the previous PA. You were genuine and down-to-earth. Pretty fiery but I wouldn’t find that out until later,” he grins. I roll my eyes. “I tried to ease up a little but things kept happening to push me back into the asshole box.”

“But you were so snappy, and a dick.”

“I know. I didn’t know how to tell you you worked too hard without dropping the asshole act and making you feel even shittier.”

“What do you mean?”

“I had to be the villain in your story-“

“What?” What was he talking about?

“Yeah like, you were working all the time even though there were some times I told you to wrap it up for the day.”

I remembered that, thinking he was kicking me out.

“But you took the job so seriously. I appreciated everything you did but you were dogged at making sure you did the best at any cost.”

“What do you mean? At any cost?” I ask, a cold sensation running down my back.

“For example take that one time a few months in when I asked you to call me because you forgot to order wine. You bloody came all the way back to hand deliver it-“

“Yeah because you said to call you and you were gonna be pissed if I-“

“No, y/n,” he lays a hand between us. “I just wanted you to call to know where you usually ordered from so I could order that for myself. You weren’t in any trouble! But I could only blame myself for playing the hard asshole too well.”

I think about that night, Josie’s birthday party. How I left early and upset Gray. How I didn’t need to but I had been following the Dos and Dont’s list.

Shit, the lists. They were added onto by the last PA who, now I know, was having her life made into hell just so she would quit. Some of those lists were on an extreme I didn’t even have to follow. Fuck. That was on me.

My face must be a painting of regret because Harry apologizes again.

“I’m sorry but I didn’t want you to…I just felt like I had to play the villain so you could do what you had to do. So you could continue hating me and we could establish the clear boundary.”

“Right.” I have a bitter taste in my mouth.

“But I genuinely liked you, I thought you were funny and sensitive-“

“You don’t like my sensitivity.”

“I do. I just hated how angry you were-“

“Because of you.”

“I know. I created a monster, I’m Frankenstein.”

“Damn straight.” I agree and we pause a beat before laughing.

“Anyway,” he continues. “You were funny and sensitive and resilient, passionate and smart, and you cared so deeply. It was rare meeting people like you in this field. I wanted to wrap you in bubble wrap but I think I shattered you instead. I’m sorry for the way I just let my past colour your time here. I feel like you left because of me-“

“It was really a lot of reasons.”

“I know but I was part of that and I felt no good. After you left I was a miserable son of a bitch for a while. I couldn’t even enjoy my holiday because I kept thinking of you. I was miserable so I barely even said goodbye—I didn’t realize you were going to run away so far. But I also didn’t want to say goodbye because I was scared I would convince you to stay by spilling my truth.”

His words sit on my chest and they slowly sink down to my stomach. I don’t know what it meant, what he wanted me to do with this confession. It’s too much.

“Mostly,” he continues, shifting closer to me on the sofa. He lowers his voice, “Mostly I’m sorry about Barcelona.”

I flush at the mention of it. At the heat and passion from that night. His eyes roam my face.

“I’m not that guy. I should have treated you nicer, should have been the one to keep my patience.”

“I didn’t make it easy,” I admit.

“No,” he chuckles. “You really fucking did not.”

We smile.

“But you’re so much more than anger y/n. I could barely sleep that night, I kept regretting giving into the anger and not being slow and soft with you the way you deserve. I regret it all the time.”

His confession pulls the veil off my eyes and I see a sharper image of my past. Of everything. It all comes at once and I can’t sort through it in the moment but I know what I want to do.

I shuffle over until I’m up against Harry, I hold his face in mine and he cups my face in his hand.

“You drove me crazy,” I tell him. “Made my life hell.”

“I know. But you drove me crazy too. Nobody got under my skin like you did.”

“Same.”

His hand snakes down to my thigh and he nudges it over his lap so that I’m straddling his body. I feel vulnerable and scared—not the first time these emotions have coursed through me in this very room. But today I don’t feel powerless.

His lips are soft against my cheek, my jaw, down my neck. Unlike the first time he’s slow and deliberate like someone who’s waited so long to unwrap a cherished gift and can’t stand ripping even the gift wrap. He pushes my hair out of the way and trails his fingertips down the back of my neck.

“I’m glad you’re here,” he whispers in my ear. The more he talked the more nervous he was making me. I turn my head to capture his lips, run my fingers through his hair which is too short to really grasp. I missed his old hair.

We break apart for a breath and I can feel the tension. The desire to have him near clashing with the need to go slow. To savour this. Somehow we both feel it.

“We don’t have to do anything tonight,” Harry promises me, his finger trailing down my arm. “Just having you here is enough.”

Oh god. How did he know just the things to say. This man was way too suave. He really was the devil.

But I needed him. It’s scary to admit but I did. I wanted to be here, I really did. I needed to be in this moment with him. Fulfill some shut-out desire that had grown dusty in the corner of my heart.

“I want to do this.”

With a gentle kiss he gets us up and takes my hand. I feel myself being pulled through the living room and towards the bedroom. The sheets are cool, but not cold and when he crawls in beside me I forget that I had ever been anywhere else.

He’s attentive and deliberate and I’m buzzing with anticipation. I decide to pick up the pace, propping myself up to take off my blouse. I watch his throat bob up and down like he’s never seen me like this before even though he has. It’s endearing.

The way his hands fit in the curve of my waist makes it harder to breathe. He moves his hands up my torso and to the straps of my bra. He pauses, as if asking permission, and when I nod, he kisses me. He unhooks it and slowly slides it off my shoulders, eyes fixed on mine.

The intensity of his gaze is overwhelming.

I pull him close to kiss him again, and he pulls me under him so I can feel the full weight of him against me. This is what I needed. To be physically present and not stuck in the after tremors of the earthquakes of my past. Not that he wasn’t part of my past but this is different. A non-verbal agreement to just be present. I knew his ways with women, it could be a one-night thing and that’s what I needed.

But that’s why the moments of tenderness and adoration nearly take my breath away. I don’t know where to put these things.

He kisses down my shoulder while his hand trails down to my trousers. He hooks his finger into the belt loop and tugs gently, looking up at me for consent.

I nod.

He slowly takes them off, and when his fingers brush against my bare legs, my breath hitches.

It happens again when he presses his lips against my hip bone.

He stops for a moment, and I can almost see the cogs in his brain whirring.

He moves up to press his forehead against mine.

"I don't know how to do this right," he says quietly, and his eyes search mine.

“What do you mean?”

“This is always how I should have treated you,” he whispers. “I want you to know-“

“Harry,” I smooth out the lines on his forehead.

"No," he grabs my hand and kisses it. "I don't want you to feel like I don't care because I do. I don’t want to hurt you. I'm not good at saying these things. But I want you to know how much I value you. That I like you as a person. I respect you. I want you to be okay.”

“I-“ who was this Harry, seriously!? “I get it. I’m okay. I am.”

He smiles at me tentatively and my heart does a somersault.

I grab the back of his neck and pull him down, pressing my lips against his. I could taste the sweetness of the words he had said.

I tug at his shirt and it flies into the darkness of his bedroom. His skin is heated against mine.

It feels like an eternity before he finally reaches the band of my panties, and my heart thumps wildly.

"May I?" he looks up.

"Please," I whisper.

For the first time since I’ve met him he doesn’t make it about himself or what he needs. It’s almost intimidating how intense he is as he looks after me and it’s hard to reconcile this man with the man in my head. We’re of one mind and it’s like he knows everything I’ve been through in the last 24 hours; he just attends to my every need reminding me that I was here, right here, in his arms and in this body.

And it doesn’t go unnoticed.

“Are you staying the night?” He asks later with a final kiss to my shoulder.

“If that’s alright?” I ask. I didn’t want to be alone in a cold hotel room.

“I’d love nothing more.” He says earnestly.

Love. I brush the word away.

He warns me that he was a slug if I stayed and he’s not exaggerating, with his arm draped over me and tucked up against him he’s like a child with a plush. He falls asleep just as quickly.

I should too but can’t. I feel so intensely about this body laying beside me, I want to crawl inside of him, understand him, understand us and how this worked.

Or maybe I wanted to just understand me, and why I felt a piece of myself sliding back into place tonight. I had to be the most fucked up person in this city.

Instead of sleeping I lay awake thinking about everything and I can’t help it. I go over this morning—god it felt like weeks ago. Josie’s graduation. Josie. Gray. Even Michelle.

I feel slightly paralyzed by everything that transpired today—it truly felt like peering through a glass window into a life I used to have. I try to break open the glass, sort it all out.

On one side is me and everything I’ve done this whole year to move on from the crumbs of my life here in London. I don’t know why but I really did think that coming back I would be 100% untouchable by my past. I was an idiot for thinking that because I was bothered that Gray seemed to have a steady girlfriend. Why did I think anything would rekindle between us?

I dig deeper, did I even want that to happen? Or did I just want to prove to myself that I was the one Gray let get away because I was too scared to face the possibility that I was the one who let Gray get away.

But clearly something didn’t work with us, I think bitterly. A few months with his new girl and he found the balls to open up with me and communicate his grievances and his apologies.

Love that’s as fierce and loyal as you are, he had said. Was I too much for Gray? Is that why we were made to burn out? It hurt too that he had damaged all my relationships I made in my life here in London only to cut those same people out of his life immediately after I left. The more I think about it the angrier I feel.

And his mom, I still feel bruised by her acting like she didn’t even know me. It stokes the anger higher. Her own son has called her crazy on multiple occasions, I was always nothing but kind to her. Gray was the one who put the final nail in our coffin yet the woman who called me her daughter and claimed to love me had been cruel. Even in the face of getting along for Josie’s sake she had put her petty feelings in the forefront.

These people made me so angry.

How did I ever think I could rekindle anything with Gray? As much as I was to blame, I realize, Gray couldn’t even be kind in the end. Just because the year apart was good to him didn’t mean he would still be good for me.

I think about the man laying beside me, in a hypothetical situation if things got ugly I instinctively want to say he would be cruel too. But I have to push past the persona he claimed to have put up and think about the glimpses of the man I saw underneath. Something tells me he would be just as fiery in letting me know how he was feeling. But with his recent apologies I’m not as convinced he would go out of his way to hurt me again.

Even in the bar last night, I just assumed he called me Mrs. Duran to be cruel but he hadn’t known. Or when I had assumed at Josie’s birthday party I would be fired for forgetting wine because he was an asshole when really he just acted like one so I wouldn’t feel worse.

How many times had I judged people because of how skewed my own lens was? It’s a sobering reminder.

Josie’s face flashes through my mind and I tear up at knowing we were going to cut each other out. No matter how much we loved each other staying in touch at this rate was no longer sustainable. For her best interest.

I think of my younger brother back home, my older sister, our family of 5. When I went back home there was so much to catch up on and eventually, apologize for. I had missed out on so much of my family’s life because I believed I needed to leave to grow. Well, life sure handed me a lot of lessons but I needed to go back home to plant them and let me grow.

Harry stirs beside me, nuzzling my neck in his sleep. I feel myself go teary eyed for no reason.

I wondered if this was just a one-night thing. If we would see each other again while I was in London. Did I want to see him? My heart sings yes immediately.

Damn.

What was it about him that pushed my emotions to the highest highs and lowest lows. How did he know every button to push and every bruise to kiss. This had to be toxic, we couldn’t just take our great big baggage of a past and see each other casually while I was in London. It couldn’t be that easy.

What if it was, hope whispers. I squirm. Could I forgive Harry for everything he’d done?

“Y’sleeping?” Harry mumbles to my left. Shit.

“Yeah,” I say which invokes a throaty chuckle from him. I check the time, it was nearly 4. Double shit.

“Liar,” he tugs on my hips and I turn to face him. “Talk to me.”

I couldn’t. Half of my thought were about him. And how could I tell him I was thinking about my ex after spending the night with him. So I just shake my head.

“Please?” He brushes my cheek with his thumb. “You need to sleep.”

“I-“ I try to say I can’t but the words get stuck in my throat. The emotions of everything I’d been thinking in the last couple hours threaten to dislodge the words from my throat so I close my mouth. But it doesn’t work.

A sob bursts out of me and before I can reel it all in the floodgates swing open and it carries all the pent-up sorrow and confusion, grief and anguish I had bottled up.

Harry freezes for a moment, probably very confused to wake up and have me reacting this way. But he recovers and pulls me into his warm chest.

“What is going on in that head of yours love,” Harry murmurs. Love. I sob even harder.

He murmurs reassuring words whilst stroking my back and I cry an embarrassing amount in the same bed where just hours ago I was blissed beyond comprehension. Life moves fast.

Finally when I gain enough composure I lean away, covering my face because crying into him was one thing but seeing my ugly cry face was another.

“Here,” I feel his body move and then tissues pressed into my hand. I’m grateful for them but I wasn’t going to blow my nose here. I sit up and try to dry my nose. His hand reaches out and the tips of his fingers rest on my spine like he was tethering my lost body to him. Somehow even that is reassuring.

“Don’t go trying to kiss my nose this early on again,” I try to joke through a stuffy voice.

“I wouldn’t dare,” he tugs my arm a little and I fall back beside him. He holds me in both his arms and I watch in horror and affection as he kisses the tip of my nose.

“Stop being so nice,” I laugh and cry a little too.

“You’re actually complaining about me being nice?”

“No I just—I’m not used to it,” I press the tissue to my eyes again.

“Well get used to it,” he peels the hair off of my face and pushes it back. “I don’t want to be the one hurting you. I swear to never ever be the reason you cry like this to anyone.”

“Don’t say those sorts of things if you don’t mean it.”

“I do,” he caresses my face. “You’re breaking my heart y/n, I don’t know who hurt you but I never want to see you like this. Especially not because of me alright? I’m sorry if I ever-“

“Stop,” I put my hand to his mouth. Which is kind of gross since I just blew my nose but I’m pretty sure him kissing my snotty nose means he didn’t care.

“But-“ he says behind my hand.

“I’m embarrassed right now,” I admit.

“You have seen me in every compromising situation,” Harry says. “And we have been through too much together to be embarrassed right now.”

“Fine,” I sigh. “It is tiring.”

“Maybe you can finally sleep now that it’s…almost 5?”

“Sorry,” I sigh. “I hope you don’t have something early?”

“Nope,” he kisses the top of my head. “And even if I did it wouldn’t matter.”

So we both try to go back to bed and I manage to fall asleep, all of those tiring racing thoughts washed away by a good cry. I feel warm and cared for and vulnerable and protected. A stark change from how Harry has made me feel before. Maybe this was temporary or maybe this was the start of something new. I’m just taking it minute by minute while all I can think is Do I or Don’t I?

***

It’s my final week in London and if you’d asked me a couple weeks ago if I was looking forward to going back home I would have said without hesitation yes.

But that night at Harry’s and putting my past to rest brushes away an old and tired film I had been viewing the city with since I landed.

We had seen each other a couple times a week since—I’ve been cautious despite my body saying otherwise. There were many days I had been free but I had made up some excuse not to see him, I was scared of getting too attached and having to leave.

But I can’t deny how nice it was to be with Harry without any labels. Most of the time I went over to his, it was tricky going out somewhere too public and risking getting papped. Together we just talk about life and work, my life back in America and my relationship with my family, his life growing up and his relationship with stardom. We watch movies and listen to music and make jokes and I open up a little about what had been weighing on my mind that night.

Winnie teases me that I was lighter than she’s ever seen me, that London looked good on me. I tell her she’s crazy. But even Oretta admits it when Winnie brings it up to her.

Harry makes the effort to make up for how he acted until it’s not just words. I believe what he was saying. And I admit to my faults too.

We still get under each other’s skin.

The thing we argue about the most is an opportunity Harry tries to get me to sign off on. The link he texted me when I was in Cambridge was an upcoming single one of his friends was releasing and he wanted to get me to bid on executing a music video for it. I tell him he was nuts and that I had no experience, plus I had a job. But he persists. He thinks I should explore putting my creative skills to use and not just my organizational skills. The arguing continues.

I have a date with him tonight, at the same bar we bumped into each other that first night. I have a question I’d been meaning to ask him.

“You aren’t actually a regular here are you?” I ask when we’ve settled.

“Of course I am,” he says but I know he’s lying. I raise my brow and he looks everywhere but at me. “Fine. I’m not.”

“So how the hell did you end up here that night?”

“Coincidence.”

“Liar.”

“I’m an honest man.”

“Truth please?”

“You’re embarrassing me here let’s move on.”

“Nuh-uh,” I’m enjoying his bright cheeks and darting eyes. “Did you stalk me or something?”

“I…I knew this was a local spot for you. Or was.”

“Really? How?”

“You mentioned it a few times? And I dropped you off here once after work.”

He might’ve. I’d met many friends and especially Gray here. I motion for him to continue.

“I might’ve known you were in town, might’ve found out you were here and…”

“So you did stalk me,” I gasp. “Oh my god ladies and gents he is obsessed.”

“That’s a strong word.” He argues.

“You. Stalked. Me.”

“Oh fine, I’ll confess: I’m used to the stalkers and I thought it was high time I did some stalking and see what the fun was all about,” he joins in on making fun of himself.

“Someone get me a restraining order,” I say just as someone approaches our table with drinks. As soon as they leave we burst out laughing.

“So have you given the music video any more thought?” Harry asks as the evening continues.

“Can we not talk about this right now?” I ask.

“I just think you should give it serious thought. I know you want to go into PR, be somebody’s Graham, but you have a really good eye for this thing. Before you pursue what you think you want, try this out.”

“You’re one dude,” I say again. “Who believes I can do this. You want me to throw away the career I’ve worked on for years to dabble in this and potentially waste time instead of getting to where I want?”

“Firstly, if you love doing something it’s not time wasted. And secondly you only ever need just one person to believe in you, angel.”

His fingers brush mine on the table, the familiar electricity courses through me just through the small touch. And of course, his use of pet names always turned me to putty. I hated how malleable he made me.

“Consider it. Just write a proposal y/n, it’s not betraying Oretta or anything. I can talk to her if you want if they choose your idea.”

It was scary putting myself out there for something I didn’t believe in myself for. But my echoes of burnout grow towards the idea of doing something less demanding than being an assistant just like a sunflower to the sun. It basks in letting my creativity flow.

“I’ll think about it.”

“Not for too long,” he taps my fingers again. We were cautious about being too touchy in public, even in a place like this where people genuinely didn’t care who he was. “Proposal’s due at the end of next week.”

When I would be back home in America. Away from here. Him.

We hadn’t talked about it, if we would try to keep in touch. I can’t really imagine a long-distance thing with Harry. Not at this stage. Mostly we enjoyed being in each other’s company and I was scared forcing labels just because we would be apart would ruin this fragile thing.

“Fine.” He’d worn me down and I submit. “Fine I’ll get something in for you.”

He pulls back with a shocked expression. “Did I just convince the stubborn y/n y/l/n to do something she didn’t want to do?”

I scowl. “Don’t get used to it.”

“I won’t,” he laughs, waving his hands around him like he was fanning in an aroma. “I’m soaking this in though.”

“Whatever,” I say with a smile.

“You make me work hard,” he smiles back. “For everything y/n. That’s one of the things I l-I-that I really like about you.”

We ignore the near slip of something far too serious for what we had going. We move past it but it sets my heart racing.

“So this friend of yours,” I change the subject. “With the music video. Didn’t you guys have like, beef when you were on tour? All that article stuff?”

“You of all people should know not to believe what you see online. It was all manipulated and put out of context.”

“I know but you were all moody for all your shows afterwards. I remember Jeff and Graham complaining. I assumed the articles had worn you down a bit.”

He raises a brow like he’s waiting on me to figure something out.

“What?”

“Really? You think it was the artcles?”

“Well what else happened that-“

Oh god. Was I that stupid?

Of course it wasn’t the articles, it was me! Us.

A smile stretches over the contours of his face as realization dawns on mine, “Twice in a row I’ve got you today, I should buy a lottery ticket.”

“I’m off my game today is all, don’t get used to it.”

I can’t believe it. Not that I didn’t believe Harry after the last few weeks but I—that night—really meant that much to him that his feelings over it had affected the rest of his tour? I had affected his tour?

“Why didn’t you say anything if it was weighing on you so much? If I recall I tried to talk to you a couple times.” I ask.

“What could I say,” he snorts. “You were engaged and my loss of control was why you cheated. Then you were quitting and I knew if I said anything you might have stayed. I didn’t want to keep you where you didn’t want to be.”

His words tug at my heart. He really had thought up a storm.

“Harry,” I lean back. “Gray and I broke up before I joined you guys on tour again. We weren’t cheating.”

His forehead creases, “What?! But you were together at my London show. I thought you two broke up after you moved back home?”

“No,” I guess in the last few weeks I’d just mentioned we broke up a long time ago. He didn’t know any specifics. “We were fake-together because he hadn’t broken the news to his sister then. But that’s why I was all…y’know in Barcelona-“

“Fuck me,” he groans. “No wonder you thought I was an ass for pulling you away-“

“Well you were-“

“Yeah alright-“

“Why did you really pull me away though?”

“I…I was feeling a bit possessive.”

“What?”

I wasn’t expecting that to come out of his mouth. He smiles sheepishly, “I thought we already came to terms with that.”

My stomach does a few somersaults. Until tonight I don’t think I’ve really focused on the magnitude of how Harry felt back then. Parts of my mind were still remembering him as a prick just because it was easier to remember my side of things. But this spins things in a brighter light.

“I was just your assistant though.”

“Y/N,” he tilts his head to the side. “Did I not already tell you what I thought about you that night in my flat?”

“Yeah but-“

“I’d never met anyone like you, I really liked you. I couldn’t have you though and I had to push you away constantly. And that drove me a bit crazy sometimes.”

I let out a noisy breath, wondering if how he felt about me was just as intense now as it was then. A part of me knows it must be. Feelings like that didn’t fade. But here I was, barely knowing what it was I felt for him. All I knew was that it was nice when we were together.

Why me, I want to ask. But I hold back. It wasn’t a question I could ask my ex-employer current-lover part-time-asshole.

“Sorry,” he apologizes. “Was that a bit strong?”

“No,” I sigh again and he laughs. “Fine. A little. But it’s fine, I’m okay.”

“Okay,” he believes me. “So you broke off your engagement and didn’t tell anyone?”

“Kinda, we weren’t in a place we could come back from. We decided that mutually after things blew up. He didn’t even know I was leaving the country actually.”

Harry whistles. “You ran out on all of us.”

I scratch the side of my head, “Maybe?”

“Well I’ve enjoyed having you again, here.” He says with sincerity. “I’m really relieved to be able to get to say everything I wanted to your face.”

I agree. Neither of us mention I was leaving later in the week.

Even by the night before I’m leaving London we still hadn’t discussed a thing. But there’s a heaviness to us as we have dinner at his, as we pretend to watch a movie only to cuddle on the couch. We lay there facing each other and I trace his eyes, his nose, his wonderful mouth. It’s so odd to me that this was the same Harry Styles performing in sold out venues and on the walls of teenage bedrooms. That I got to have him in these quiet moments and be present.

I feel so grateful for this. That I didn’t have to carry around these draining stories within me anymore, that it felt like it happened to someone else. In a way even if nothing came from all this, I got closure. I was able to move on now.

I imagine my heart and it feels like when you take a stroll mid-March and realize nature was healing from winter’s blues. Warm and blooming the earth was growing again—my heart was growing stronger. Now the idea of a date or a partner didn’t seem so daunting and exhausting. I would never have guessed that it would take the man who almost broke me to come into my life again for me to see how to fit those pieces back in place again.

“I don’t know what I’m gonna do not having you in town anymore,” his lashes flutter as I run my hand through his hair. It was still shorter than I was used to but it had grown in the last three weeks.

“Oh you’ll be fine,” I say. “I’ve worked on your schedule before: meetings and studio sessions and photoshoots and interviews.”

“A busy life isn’t always a full one,” he whispers. And it’s the closest thing to a confession we were going to get to. I cover his mouth with mine and we indulge in each other one final time.

There is a symphony of unexpected but undeniable intimacy woven between the beats of our entwined hearts. I know I would probably never feel this way with anyone and I don’t think I’d want to. Being with Harry was passion. It was losing myself and finding myself at the same time. It was being vulnerable and guarded and cherished and known.

My flight out tomorrow is around noon but I can’t stay the night as I’d have to help Oretta in the morning to make sure everything gets to the airport in time. Harry walks me down to his lobby and we stand there for a few, just holding each other tight. He doesn’t ask me to stay and I don’t ask him to come.

“This isn’t goodbye y/n,” Harry says when we part. His hand rests on his heart. I know the feeling, mine aches so hard I want to press my hand to it just to tell it everything would be fine.

“No,” I shake my head. My eyes had been teary ever since he squeezed me to him. “We’ll talk soon.”

“You’ll be directing music videos soon.”

I roll my eyes, “I’m still working on the proposal.”

“I have a good feeling about it.”

“That makes one of us. But…thanks for believing in me.”

“Thanks for believing in me,” he whispers. “Even when you didn’t have to.”

I’m glad I did. The only time in my life not paying attention to the warning bells had paid off.

“I’ve been working with this new producer and he wants me to come out to a studio in Cotati?” Harry mentions. “How far is that from where you are? Are you still in m Burbank?”

“Burbank’s where my parents are,” I shake my head. I look up what he’s talking about and feel a thrill when it’s less than a couple hours. Still, I try to maintain neutrality. “A little over an hour?”

“Well,” he brushes my hair over my shoulder and keeps his eyes looking just over it. “Depending on what you’re doing—maybe if you’re free…we can see each other again?”

I would love that. My heart is bursting just thinking of getting to have him in the place I called home. Of this meaning something. Of him wanting to see me again.

“Of course if you have a boyfriend by then and he doesn’t want you to see me that’s…I mean, live your life and if it works out we-“

“Yes,” I cut him off. “Yeah. Let’s see but that sounds good.”

He meets my gaze and I laugh a little, he was nervous and that was rare.

“Good,” he smiles with. “Until next time.”

“Until next time,” I step into his arms and it’s a quick affair before he steps away. I turn to head out the door, shielding my eyes from him. Not wanting him to see that this was stupidly hard to say goodbye.

He waves me off and I head back to my hotel with a heavy heart. But I think about him asking to see me again. Who knows when that would be. And I know this wasn’t the end of our story.

***

I’m happy to land in SFO the following evening, happy to busy myself with Oretta’s business, happy to have Winnie chattering away. I spent parts of the flight I wasn’t sleeping working on my MV proposal and it awakens a familiar passion inside of me I’d been afraid I’d lost.

I send out a silent thanks to Harry for knowing what was good for me.

I think of Harry often, Gray even less until I don’t think of him at all. I dream of London weekly; I missed it this time around. And as life resumes again I anticipate the change I sense on the horizon.

So when life gives me lemons I stop asking Do I or Don’t I. If one thing the last year has taught me was I had to listen to my gut and look at the signs. I had to start asking what I wanted and go after it. Even though Harry and I barely talk, I remember the lessons he’s taught me.

I stop looking to others to make decisions. There’s no guidebook or lists to help me make my decisions either. I take deep breaths and I believe in myself.

I build a new life on the remains of my old. I don’t let it dictate what I did anymore, I simply leave it as the foundation to elevate me even higher. I reach for the sky with my feet planted firmly on the ground. And I grow with reckless abandon.

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TAGLIST: @boomitsallie1 @indierockgirrl @ndunad @jerseygirlinca @sunshinemoonsposts @ninasw0rld @love-letters-to-uranus @mayamonroem @sassamanda77 @harryspirate

🤍

Epilogue

[whimsicalpolitical]

you’re jealous that Matty got to kiss your boyfriend on stage and Ross doesn’t know why you’re giving him the silent treatment.

suggestive, not really smut, making out,

You couldn’t believe your eyes, you were on a balcony watching the concert enjoying every bit until Matty’s speech, which was also ok. But then he waved Ross over and they were heavily making out on stage, pulling each others hair and Ross’ hand on Matty’s back made you feel unwell.

The kiss ,which was more of a make out session, wasnt scripted. The Malaysian government canceled the The 1975's performance and they had to leave stage immediately.

You know it was all part of the act. It was something they did to rile up the crowd, to add an edge to the performance. But still, the flicker of jealousy eats at you. You feel foolish for letting it bother you, but the sting was real.

You see him, walking off the stage, laying down his bass.

You’re waiting for him even though you don’t really want to talk to him right now and when he spots you, his eyes are bright with adrenalin. He grins, the smile that usually melts your heart but tonight you turn away, pretending like you didn’t see him.

“Hey, you alright?” He asks, his voice laced with concern.

You shrug, “let’s just go,” you whisper, foot tapping the floor impatiently.

Ross gets the hint that you don’t want to talk right now but he sure is going to find out what’s bothering you. He guides you through the maze of hallways, the sounds of the concert still echoing in the background.

You join the rest of the band and crew in the lounge area, everyone buzzing with post-show excitement. You sit on the edge of a plush chair, your arms still crossed, and your gaze fixed on some random point on the wall.

Ross keeps glancing at you, his smile faltering slightly. He tries to engage with the others, laughing and joking, but his eyes keep drifting back to you. After a while, he has enough. He stands up, crossing the room with purposeful strides when he takes your hand.

“Think we need to have a little chat,” he says firmly, not waiting for your response as he pulls you up and out of the room. He leads you down another hallway to a small, dimly lit room with a couch. He closes the door behind you, the noise of the others muffled.

Ross raises an eyebrow when you’re still not looking at him, a playful smirk tugging at his lips. "Silent treatment, hm? What did I do?"

You let out a huff, finally looking at him. "Did you enjoy it?"

“What? Need more than that,” he’s clearly confused.

“Kissing Matty on stage,” you snap, the words spilling out before you can stop them. “Did you enjoy that?”

Ross’ eyes soften but a teasing smile spreads across his face. “Oh, darling, ‘s that’s what’s bothering you?”

You glare at him, trying to maintain your composure, “yes it is.”

He sits down, holding on to your hand and you don’t pull back, his fucking grin doing a number on you. He tugs you gently until you are standing between his knees, looking down at him.

“Jealous of Matty, are we?” He teases, his fingers lightly tracing circles on the back of your hand. “Never thought I’d see that day.”

“It’s not funny, Ross.”

"Oh, I think it is," he murmurs, his eyes sparkling with mischief. "Do you really think I’d rather kiss Matty than you?"

You bite your lip, not trusting yourself to speak without betraying how much his teasing is affecting you. He lifts your chin with his other hand, his thumb brushing lightly over your jawline.

"Look at me," he says softly, his voice low and compelling. "You have no reason to be jealous. You know that, right?"

“Do I? Cause you kissed him like you wanted him.”

Ross’s teasing smile softens, but the mischievous glint in his eyes remains. He pulls you down so you’re straddling his lap, his hands steadying you on either side of your waist.

"Love, come on now," he says, his voice a blend of tenderness and amusement. "It’s all for show. You know that."

You cross your arms over your chest, still trying to hold onto your annoyance. "It didn’t look like just a show."

He chuckles softly, his hands moving up to cradle your face. "What can I do to make it better, hm? How can I convince you?"

You try to maintain your stern expression, but the way he is looking at you, the way his hands moved to the small of your back, make it impossible. He tilts your chin up, his lips just a breath away from yours.

"You know it’s only you," he whispers, his voice sincere. "Always."

You lean in closer, your lips almost brushing his. "Kiss me with twice as much want and need as you kissed him."

His eyes darken with desire, and without another word, he closes the distance, capturing your lips in a kiss that’s anything but gentle. It’s filled with urgency, a raw intensity that makes your head spin. His hands move to your back, pulling you even closer as if he can’t get enough of you.

You respond with equal fervor, your fingers tangling in his hair as you deepen the kiss. The frustration and jealousy from earlier melt away, replaced by the familiar, all-consuming presence of him.

“The kiss didn’t only frustrate you?” His grip on your hips tightened, “turned you on, didn’t it.”

You don’t need to say anything, you let the roll of your hips against his say it.

The kisses you share are still slow, sensual, following the rise and fall your shared breathing, but this time he follows your lead, running his hands over your thighs, your hips, grabbing your ass and dragging it over the front of his jeans, where you can feel his bulge growing. You bite his lower lip, and your eyes are still closed but you can feel his smile.

“Thought so,” he breathes, his voice thick with amusement and desire. "You like seeing me kiss someone else, don’t you? Gets you all worked up."

"Shut up, Ross," you mumble, but the way your body reacts tells him everything he needs to know.

"You’re not as good at hiding it as you think, love," he teases, his hands kneading your flesh, pulling you even closer. "Your body gives you away."

You huff, trying to keep your composure. "You’re such an ass."

You’re rolling your hips once again, applying more pressure. There's not much separating your already drenched core from his erection, only his jeans and your underwear, your skirt already over your thighs, and you sigh from the delicious drag of your pussy over the soft material of his pants. 

His grin widens, his hands slipping under your shirt, fingertips brushing against your skin. "Now, what am I going to do with you, hmm? So worked up because ‘f a little kiss."

"Ross," you whisper, feeling your resolve crumbling under his touch.

"Yes, love?" he asks, his voice a seductive purr.

"Just shut up and kiss me," you demand, your hands gripping his shoulders.

He chuckles, a low, sexy sound that sends shivers down your spine. "As you wish."

His lips find yours again, the kiss fierce and demanding. His hands move over your body, exploring every curve, every dip, as if he's memorizing you all over again. You can feel his cock pressing against you, and it only fuels the fire burning inside you.

"God, you're so sexy when you're jealous," he groans, his lips trailing down your neck. "Makes me want you even more."

You double down your efforts, grinding on him in earnest now. Your kisses are faster now, but mostly you just pant and breathe into each other's mouths, moaning when you reach a particularly good spot. There's a growing wet patch in your panties, transfering to Ross’ bright jeans, and you can almost hear how wet you are. His hands only leave your hips to travel up into your loose t-shirt, grabbing your tits and pulling your nipples, just rough enough to make you whine into his lips.

His hands are making dents into your hips, and his lips are sucking and biting against your own. The feel of his calloused hands on yours and the wet kisses he was giving you was absolutely addicting. It makes your mind fuzz into warmth.

“Ross,” you whine, the friction of his crotch not enough anymore.

“Hm?” He asks, looking into your eyes, “what s’ it? Need more?”

You nod and he nods as well, trying to open his belt with you grinding on him. He is just about to pull your panties down when a loud banging noises scares you shitless and Matty’s suddenly in the room.

“There you are, oh-“ he puts his hand on his eyes, “keep it PG you horny fucks, hanns son is looking for you.”

He leaves the room very fast, your head falling onto Ross’ shoulder. He’s kissing your face softly, “m’sorry, love, I’ll make it up to you later.”

You groan in frustration, lifting your head to glare at him. "You always say that."

"And I always do, don’t I?" he replies, a teasing smile playing on his lips.

"Not the point," you grumble, shifting slightly in his lap. "You were just getting to the good part."

Ross chuckles, his hands still resting on your hips. "I know, I know. But you know we can’t ignore Matty, especially not when Hann’s kid is involved."

You huff, crossing your arms. "Doesn’t mean I have to like it."

He leans in, nuzzling your neck and planting soft kisses along your jawline. "Tell you what, we’ll finish this later. And I’ll make sure it’s even better."

"You better," you mutter, trying to stay mad but failing miserably as his lips work their magic.

He pulls back, grinning at your flushed face. "Promise. Now, let’s go before Matty decides to barge in again."

You slide off his lap, adjusting your clothes while he fixes his belt. As you make your way to the door, Ross grabs your hand, pulling you back for one last kiss.

“Are we a bit better now though?” he asks, his voice a low rumble, as he pulls back just enough to catch his breath.

You nod, unable to suppress a smile. "Much better."

"Good," he says, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "Because I don’t want you to ever doubt how much you mean to me."

[luvrodite]

I PICTURE IT SOFT, AND I ACHE JASON TODD (college!au)

↳ on being a wallflower, and the despair of the life you haven't lived

You’re silent in the car as Jason drives you home. It’s a little after eleven, and the streets are only beginning to fill up, traffic downtown stilted and loud with the roar of Saturday nightlife. Girls in short dresses run across the road, boys flanking them, hands shoved in jacket pockets and chatting casually. A car makes a turn that makes you absently wonder its legality. 

Red washes over you, blinks of yellow as the passing street lights spill into through the window. Your eyes unfocus, open and unseeing except of softened edges and hazy shapes. The blinker is a repetitive sound in the silence, an on and off clicking weaving in between your jagged breaths.

You can only see the ballerina in your mind, and your lips part as if to gather a breath but your throat tightens and you feel sick with wanting. Only hours ago, hadn’t you been sat in this seat, excited and unable to stop it from pouring forth? You’d talked Jason’s ear off, when the sun had only just become to come down, when the light had dappled through the oak leaves outside the restaurant and painted everything in whimsy shades of red and gold, sunlight cast onto cobblestone like a storybook town.

You’d walked side by side on the brick path, shoulders brushing every so often as you swayed into him, the tide pulled to the moon. You’d filtered into the theatre, whispering and stepping carefully into the row, warming at the proximity of his arm to yours. You’d bent your heads together and laughed quietly. 

How’d you end up here?

Jason takes a breath and it sounds muffled to your ears, only half filtering in through the buzzing in your head. “...you okay?”

You blink slowly, tipping your head. The ballerina turns in your mind, frozen under the stage lights in an eternal pirouette, arms held above her head. You think of her, so close you could reach out and touch the planes of her face.

Your fingers touch your own cheek, limbs leaden and clumsy. 

You think of the crowded theatre, jagged spots from the mirrorball cast over the crowd blanketed in dark crimson–the lights, or your own cuts opening over in the middle of the show? You’d felt like an open wound, sitting limply watching the figures spin across the stage, shimmering, radiant.

And at the centre of it, her.

You feel your face heat, shame and desire clouding your vision. She stands, spotlight cast on beautiful features, eyes glittering and cheeks flushed. A hand raised in a wave, hair falling straight in an umber curtain, plastic crown resting heavy upon a head meant to wear something realer. You hear her friends in the rows surrounding you, a cacophony of her name crowed from all across the theatre. 

Beautiful, beloved. 

The syllables echo in your head.

You’re in the car, and you’re back there, wallflower in a rickety theatre seat, just another face in a sea of hundreds all gazing at the most beautiful girl you’ve ever seen. Do you want to be her? Brilliant, bright and beautiful. Fearless and magnetic, and…everything. Or, you think, watching her blow a kiss to another girl in the crowd, is it her eyes on you that you long for?

You don’t know the answer, aching, squirming in your seat and wishing you’d never come at all. What is it about you, you wonder, what is the matter with you, deep-seated and unrelenting. 

So close you could reach out and touch her, yet light years away.

Fingers brush your face and you blink, realising the car has stopped. You turn to your classmate, whose eyes are far more serious than they ever have been, a frown knitting the junction between his brows. 

“You’re crying,” he murmurs. 

You reach up and your fingers come away wet, water gathering on your fingertip. 

“Oh,” you say, feeling your face grow warmer, mortified. “I’m sorry.”

He shakes his head, turning in his seat to face you fully. A warm hand comes to cradle your face and you screw your nose up in an effort to compose yourself. 

But the ballerina spins, and spins, and you see her frozen smile, pretty eyes unflinching under the spotlight. Water splashes onto Jason’s wrist and you hiccup, pressing your fingers to your mouth.

“Hey,” he whispers, thumb skimming beneath your eye. His touch leaves a trail of star bursts in its wake, blooming curls of heat igniting beneath your skin. A sob catches in your throat. “What’s wrong? Did something happen?”

You feel a little pathetic as you stare back at him, something wounded in your chest that feels to you as though it bleeds from you with every blink of your eyes. 

“I don’t know,” you murmur, through stuttered breaths, shaking your head. He remains steady, palms cradling you.

“That’s okay,” he assures. “It’s okay. Can you take a breath for me?”

You frown through your tears. “I am.”

He smiles wryly. “Humour me. Deep breath, just one.”

You do, inhaling deeply, and exhaling. He nods with the rise and fall of your chest. “That’s it. Take another one for me.”

He lets go of you to pick up the waterbottle in his cupholder, screwing open the lid and pressing it into your hands. The metal is cold, the water even colder and Jason is unfazed when you press your mouth to the lip of his bottle, a hand settling on the back of your neck comfortingly. 

“You wanna talk about it?” Jason asks, when all that’s left of your tears are the stains on your cheeks, your eyelashes wet. 

You look up and find his eyes on you, more green than blue in this light, watching, gauging. Don’t, you want to say, don’t look at me. What happens when you find something you don’t like?

“Not really,” you whisper. He doesn’t bat an eyelid, only nodding, like he’d expected as much. But he doesn’t withdraw, hand still on the back of your head like he might cuff a brother, so close your forehead risks bumping against his. You can smell the gum he’d been chewing on earlier, fading notes of spearmint in the air.

“That’s okay. We’ll stay here til you feel better,” he says easily. You take a breath in. 

You stay. 

Maybe one day, you think, looking at him. Maybe one day, the words will come easier to you. You think it may come sooner than you believe, if he continues to work his way through your defences, dismantling each brick so sweetly you believe it may not even be his hand they fall under, but yours. 

For now, you sit in the car, forehead pressed to your new friend’s, and counting his breaths til yours match.

author's note: the other day i stood on the side of a street while waiting for my bus and there was a boy sitting in a restaurant across the street, eating by himself. and i don't know why, but it made me ache a little bit, as i'm prone to do in the spring. so much of life lately has been spent people watching, always sitting on the bus at dusk and watching the glow of homes lit pass by, orange and blue, orange of hearths and hallways and restaurants. it's one of my favourite times to go home, just as everything begins to darken, but it also feels a little sad.

i think there's a lot of longing in being the watcher, a lot of loneliness in being the one to keep the records, in a sense. because if you are the watcher, who sees you? even if it's all you know, and it's something you're comfortable in, sometimes it creeps in, and you're struck with that feeling of reverting to a child once again when you see large groups of friends and people sharing a meal and girls holding hands. always on the outside, always passing by, never the one in the window. jersey boy! reader is a love letter to those parts of myself, i think, just as daddy's money was. i'm sorry for rambling, but i hope this bit of seriousness gives you guys a bit more of our reader.

[unactive-shroom]

hello! i hope you're doing well. for your Valentine's event, may I request nikolai lantsov with prompt #4? have a great day!

Prompt #4: Proposal ♡

“It seems like someone has a very important question to ask… and what better time to do it but on Valentine’s night?”

Character: Nikolai Lantsov. See Valentine's Event: HERE

You stood at the edge of the lake, watching the purple glow of dusk slowly swallowing the last of the early February sunshine. It had been thirteen months since Alina Starkov had left the Little Palace, and despite her offering for you to join her and Mal, you had remained by Nikolai’s side in Os Alta. Recently you’ve found yourself taking the long winding path through the trees to the Little Palace, reminiscing about the days you would spend together at the lake, chatting and feasting on blini or pelmeni stolen from the kitchen. A hand snuck around your waist. “I thought I’d find you here.” You smiled and sunk into Nikolai’s warm embrace, not realising the cold that had crept up on you. “I get that the Grand Palace is ugly on the outside and all that, but really, y/n, you’ll catch a chill if you keep coming down here without warm clothes” he said as he fussed over you, pulling a heavy velvet cloak around you. Once satisfied that you were warm, he turned his attention to the lake. The silence stretched between you two until Nikolai softly said ”You know we can visit them, right? Keramzin isn’t too far away. We could stay a few nights, bring some gifts, maybe. Or maybe they could come visit us, either.” You chuckled at that part. “I think Alina’s had enough of the palaces by now. Besides, isn’t it too risky for them to come here? They are supposedly dead, you know. And I think that people might start to get suspicious if the King of Ravka and his entourage start to regularly visit an orphange.” he hummed in agreement, tilting his head. “It’s okay, Nikolai. We did just see them, what, two months ago? I’m just being nostalgic, that’s all. Let’s head back to the Palace, It’s cold.” He took your arm in his, a look of feigned pain on his face. “Funny how you always seem to want to go back whenever I join you. Unrequited love is a terrible, terrible thing. Am’st I doomed to be alone forever-?” You let go of his arm and strode ahead of him, in no mood to put up with his antics. “Y/n, wait! I’m sorry, I’m sorry, let’s go warm up, please?”

A few hours later, whilst Nikolai was in some meeting, you found yourself in the concert hall. Empty, as always, but with a beautiful, sleek, black grand piano in the centre of the stage. Your footsteps echo, magnifying your pathway to the stage, announcing your presence as you pull out the piano stool, and as you played, you thought about how you had gotten here. Going from a high ranking army officer, experienced in intense and gruesome warfare, fighting alongside friends and seeing horrors unlike any other, to sitting here now, in a sleek and comfortable kefta, playing piano, and living in a palace. Of course, you were still a very active member of the army, and while politics held a greater position in your life than it had previously, you still had many army duties, one including tuition at the little palace. But recently, no doubt accredited to Nikolai, you had a lot of free time. “Mandatory resting periods for those involved in the war”, as he called it. And, not to mention, the whole country’s eye on you and Nikolai after a stablehand had leaked information about yours and Nikolai’s relationship. At this point, you were simply waiting for the day where acquiring a Ravkan Queen, a wife for Nikolai, was simply unavoidable, and the relationship was cut off. It made you sick to the depths of your very being, but you were determined to enjoy it while it lasted. It’s something that had always hung over the two of you, and at the beginning of your courtship you had discussed it in great detail, and you were adamant on the fact that when the time came for Nikolai to choose a wife, they would simply forget their relationship and move on with their lives. But it was getting increasingly difficult for both of you. You’d noticed that Nikolai had been closer to you recently, constantly there whenever you both had free time, or, pestering you at work, egging you on to leave work to go read with him in the library or take a walk around the palace grounds. And you had felt closer to him too, saving snippets of poetry for him in books you read, playing melodies for him on piano. These small, intimate moments meant everything to you, especially knowing that Nikolai had very little time left to spend with you before he was married off to some stranger.

Leaving the concert hall and heading back to your chambers, you heard voices in the hallway ahead of you - Nikolai and Zoya. “I just- I don’t know how to tell her, Zoya. How can I ask her-?” he sighed audibly, running a hand through his hair. He turned, and locked eyes on you. “Oh- Y/n!” The marble floor seemed to grow colder through your shoes as Zoya looked at him meaningfully. “I think you and Nikolai ought to take a quick walk around the Palace, Y/n. I’ll see you in the morning, your Majesty. Good night.”. As Zoya’s footsteps echoed down the hallway, you felt your heart fall to your stomach. This was it. Nikolai was going to tell you he had found a suitable bride and that it was no longer possible for this relationship to continue. You swallowed, and smiled at Nikolai, not wanting to draw this out any longer. “Shall we?”

You and Nikolai walked side by side through the moonlit gardens in utter silence, until finally, stopping at the glaringly white marble statue of some old king, you stopped. “Nikolai, I know what’s happening.” You whispered, turning your head away from him. “You do? Y/n, I-” You shook your head. “Don’t. I undertsand, Nikolai. You need to do what’s best for your country, I’ve always loved that about you. Just…before we part ways, I need to ask you for one last thing - and then I’ll be gone by morning, your majesty.” You turned to face him, a single tear betraying your determination to not cry, only to find Nikolai on one knee, a look of utter bewilderness on his face. You mirrored the look, not knowing what he was doing. “…why are you on the ground? Nikolai, you’ll ruin your clothes, and it’s far too cold to be-” You sniffled. “Y/n. Please let me talk. I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about, but you can’t leave now - and what’s this about us parting ways? I think you really misunderstood what I’m asking you.” Nikolai cleared his throat, suddenly looking nervous. “I… I know that our relationship hasn’t been under the best circumstances - first as Sturmhond, when I quite litterally held you captive on a boat for the state enemy and yet you fell for me, Saints knows how, and then when I proposed marriage to Alina… and now, having to keep our relationship secret…” He took a deep breath. “I know it’s been impossibly unfair on you. But please, y/n. Allow me this selfish idea - at least consider it - because I mean it when I say that you are my everything. You thrive in politics, the people love you, you have given incredible service to Ravka, you’ve fought wars - been through hell and back for this country, your beauty is unmatched even by the primal, eldest saints of the land - the sun and moon themselves are outshone by your radiance. When I imagine the ideal Queen for this country, the only person I can see fitting the role is you. Y/n L/n, would you allow me the honour of being your husband? Will you marry me?” In a complete and utter state of shock, you took a step back, incrediously shaking your head. “Me? But- but Grisha can’t- I have no title, no links to nobility - I’m an orphan from Keramzin! What will you get from marrying me?” Nikolai remained on one knee, looking directly at you. “What would I get from marrying the love of my life? Saints, y/n, I would get happiness. I would be able to go to sleep in the arms of the person I love, be able to count on her unwavering support that she’s shown me since day one, be able to wake up every morning and know that whatever happens today, I have the most incredible person by my side. I would be able to feel safety in my role as King, with an incredibly capable Queen by my side, beloved of the people and the crown itself, and know that I will not have to spend my life yearning for the woman I sent away so that I could marry for political values, as she would be in her rightful place by my side. I would do anything for you, y/n. But I just can’t bear the thought of you leaving me.”

At this point, your vision was blurry with tears, but you felt Nikolai take your hand. “Well, my love? What do you say?” You felt the tension in his gentle hold of your hand. “If you’re sure about this… then yes. I do. I will gladly marry you, Nikolai.” He beamed at you, standing up and wrapping you in his familiar, warm embrace. As he wiped the tears from your eyes, you giggled. “So does this mean that I get to call you Nikolai even when referring to you?” “You could always do that, my love.” “Yeah, but, if I did, I’d get funny looks. Oooh, can I give you nicknames now, too? How about Niko? LaiLai? Kolai? E-Kolai?” You gasped suddenly, startling Nikolai. “Oh, I have to tell Alina and Mal!” He smiled, then hummed thoughtfully. “Yeah, We’ll have to make a public address too. Then decide on the length of the engagement, do a tour, loads of boring court stuff - but it shouldn’t be too bad with you by my side. Now come along, it really is quite cold. How about we have a glass of brandy’s to celebrate? The one the Kerch ambassador sent awhile ago has been calling my name, but I simply hadn’t a good enough reason to break it out…”

A.n: Y’all the amount of Nikolai Requests I have in my inbox is INSANE. ALSO WHEN I WAS WRITING THIS I MIXED UP MAL AND MATHIAS?? so glad that I realised cause wtf. also I had to break up the last paragraph bc apparently tumblr has a limit of words u can have in one text block?? anyways. thanks for requesting, I hope you enjoyed &lt;3

[krnsluvvie]

love at first, love at second, love at last

veinticinco: finalmente, tuyx (wc: 2,2k)

SUMMARY: sae had chosen his career and that was shortly followed by his and y/n's separation. three years pass by and amongst all the lurking and stalking each other's socials, sae is suddenly found back in their hometown. old feelings are resurfaced, current ones are questioned and a whole load of future ones are found in a blur.

veinticuatro | masterlist |

Your results have come out and you were sitting cross-legged in your room, shaking with fear and anticipation. To say you've been on edge would only be an understatement; both Isagi and Kurona knew they would be getting dealt with the Devil reincarnated himself and thus, actively avoided you. You closed your eyes then as you rubbed your temples, seeing them turn around the corner, I can't really blame them. 

You keep opening and closing the laptop as if that would help you with your current predicament. It's been done with, what else do you have left? You either face it and take it like a real alpha that you are or you end up crying about it to your friends–as if they haven't been dealing with… everything you've served them. Willingly or unwillingly.

Your phone dings and you check the sender: Sae. With a silly smiley face.

After the grand revelation, you couldn't help but think about how repressive you were regarding your feelings. That explained your random outbursts and terrible mood swings. You really just had to come clean with it. To yourself.

how did you do?

The text is how it usually is. All lowercase, sounding anything but interested. You swallow down the lump that starts to create in your throat and start typing.

haven't checked them yet

You throw your phone back on the bed as you face your laptop. The worst thing is repeating a year. You mumble this under your breath while typing the website into the browser. It soon becomes a mantra–to redirect your mind elsewhere, to have your mind preoccupied.

The screen turns momentarily white after you finish logging in. Relief washes over you but it gets cut rather short when your face pales upon seeing the loading sign appear. Your eyes don't look away in time as they zero in on the percentage. You knew when you saw it but was curious to see the details. Maths got you real fucked up but hey, no more seeing any of that after all of this. 

You send an all-caps message into your group chat, announce it anywhere and everywhere possible.

congrats

Sae's message reads. You frown a little because looking back, you did freak out about this to him. Unpleasant memories flood your mind and your cheeks heat up. Right, it's just a graduation, why were you pissing yourself every time someone mentioned it? You physically cringe at just revisiting all of the instances.

You send him your thanks in the most nonchalant way possible (you ended up with a lame “thx”) but hey, if you truly squint, the communication has gotten better. The bare minimum is being barely met but you don't expect much from the Japan prodigy to begin with.

You get up and stretch a little before letting your body drop on the bed. You loosen your body and close your eyes. You were incredibly happy; it was beyond words.

━━━━━━━━━━━━

After the formal part ends, you get off the stage, meeting with your friends and family. Your parents look at you somewhat proudly and you give them a small smile–a little mocking as you could never forget their nagging and how “with this attitude, you will barely graduate”. It stung but you got over it quickly. The way their heads drop, you can tell that they might feel some regret, too. They point towards the exit and mumble “have fun”. You nod and get back to talking to your classmates, friends, teachers. This is a special day, after all.

“Would you look at that? You getting a diploma?” Isagi approaches you along with Kurona who's holding a small bouquet of various flowers. 

Kurona catches your gaze and you can feel the remark that threatens to leave his mouth but he holds himself back. “We are expecting you to do more for us.” And he hands it to you, all toothy.

You almost grab it. “I knew you guys would never stab me in the back.” The flowers look a little wilted but you don't expect much from a pair of football-obsessed high school freaks. 

“Thanks, you two. Don't worry too much–”

“Where's Y/N!” A voice resounds throughout the gymnasium. It's already teeming with sweaty bodies, loud, and someone has so much time on their hands that–

“Here you are!” 

There's Shidou standing before you, next to Isagi and Kurona. He's holding a box of chocolates with the most devious smile. You raise your eyebrow as you subconsciously grip the tube with your graduation certificate in it. No one dares speak a word. And you notice it isn't just you or your friends. The whole hall ceases all their activities, it becomes deafeningly silent that even a drop of a pin could be heard.

“Continue!” Shidou yells and the rest continues as if he was a person of authority. The look on his face is tell-tale enough. 

“I'm sure they have just never seen that ugly ass hair combo, my friend.” Oliver emerges from behind them and waves at you. You're frozen and rendered speechless. You blink once, twice. Why is everyone here? Everyone but … Sae?

“Don't call me that,” Shidou swats the hand from his shoulder and he fixes his look on you.

Your peripheral gaze locks on the two guys that you surely believed would never stab your back. Explain.

“I only invited Oliver, I don't know what he's doing here.”

“Yeah, my bad, it was me. Figured you'd want this to be more lively.”

You intake a sharp breath. Before you can stop yourself, you blurt out, “Why are you even here. Is this a substitution for Sae?”

The others look at you like you're the seventh wonder of the world. You would do the same in their shoes, let's be real. But for the sake of your dignity, you avoid their piercing gazes as you look around the gym. So spacious! And it fits so many people!

“Actually,” Shidou comes closer as he hands you the chocolates. “Yeah, we are. Sae-chan said he couldn't attend. But he said that he's so proud of you and that he misses–”

A new person enters the discussion as he kicks Shidou in the back of his knees.

“My bad.” Sae mumbles as he regards you with a nod. 

He's in all black, and has a cap that covers his face when he looks down.

“The fuck was that for?!”

“You're seriously not asking that, are you?” Oliver crosses his arms as he tries his best not to erupt in laughter. “Ahh, isn't it just so fun in here?”

“You guys are just loud.” you say. It feels as if it's been years since you last talked, your voice sounding raspy doesn't help it, either.

Oliver not so subtly ignores you as he says, “Sae drove us here. He got here late because he was trying to find a parking spot, isn't it right, Prodigy-chan?”

“I could have said that myself.” Sae deadpans.

You, Isagi and Kurona exchange glances. 

I'm sorry… Sowwy

Isagi puts his hands up in a prayer as if you'd accept his apology this way. You mouth, Buy Me a Congratulatory Meal And Then We're Even-all emphasized–and he has no choice but to reluctantly nod. A smile snakes its way onto your face.

Isagi also catches the way you keep throwing glances Sae's way and drags the rest to the side. Some of your classmates have recognized Oliver and came up to him to talk. 

Now it's just the two of you. 

The bustling and chaos around you does little to help you alleviate your mind. You knew there were a lot of things between you and him unsaid and this place, now, was a godsend opportunity.

“You got the chocolates?” Sae asks out of nowhere and you're almost forced to look at him. 

“Huh?” Huh? WEAK. “I don't know what you're talking about.” As you say this, Shidou comes sprinting towards you, the chocolate box already in shambles. “Sorry,” he says almost unapologetically as he points towards the crowd, enjoying your supposed chocolate.

“I guess not.” He takes the box from your hand and you both notice there's only one piece left. “You take it.” You blurt out.

Sae doesn't say anything as he indeed takes the last piece and pops it into his mouth. 

“Can I take a look at your diploma?” he asks out of the blue and for some reason you comply. You hand the tube to him and watch as he carefully takes the document into his calloused hands. You don't think you could stand there idly, doing nothing, anymore so to plan your escape, you scan the area and the best case scenario would be just… turning around, leaving him behind.

You had manners, though, and this childish game wasn't going to cut it anymore. As you turn to look at him and tell him you will go back to Isagi and Kurona, he grabs your shoulder and leans down. Sae uses the diploma to shield both of your faces as he slightly leans down and kisses you on the lips.

You feel something probing on your lips and your body reacts way faster than your mind and you let him in. His tongue swirls and that one piece of chocolate lands in your mouth.

He slowly pulls away but you latch onto him, not backing down. 

Your façade has been long debunked and you knew Sae was aware. Probably had been for some time now with how confidently he invited himself into your mouth.

You pull away and he looks at you amusingly. “What, want more?”

Your face is burning with crimson and you still have some half-decentness in you left that you cover your mouth with the back of your hand. What the fuck was that.

“Gahhh, that was tiring.” Shidou comes back, arms stretching over his head. 

“No one even knew you.” Oliver deadpans.

“I was literally the talk.”

“You were the guy that Itoshi Sae tossed to.”

“Multiple times, if you will.”

“You know what, nevermind.”

“Oh, you two.” Shidou changes the topic as swiftly as he usually does. “Why are you holding their grad certificate?”

“Was curious.” Sae's answer comes fast and almost calculated. He returns it to you.

“Okay.” Shidou eyes both of you. “The kids are going home 'cause practice, school, so it's just us left.”

Oliver adds, “We should go celebrate.”

“Why are you so red?” Shidou turns to you. “Did somethin' happen?”

“I am fine, you guys go ahead. I will go talk to my teachers before I leave.”

“I will go talk to them, too. Haven't updated them in a while.” Sae says.

Oliver and Shidou exchange fully knowing glances. “Alright, you know where you parked your car. We will wait there.. after we find it.”

Sae nods and the two of them leave with a mischievous glint in their eyes.

“You wanna tell me something?” Sae asks and it takes you a while to realize that he's talking to you.

“Me? I don't think so. Maybe you have something to tell me?” You say, inwardly cringing at how it ended up sounding despite all your nonexistent efforts. 

“Well, I'll go talk to them if you don't mind–”

“Sae,” you exhale. It feels like the more you call out to him, the more free you feel and the more true you're staying to yourself.

He turns to look at you and you hate being scrutinized over. Yet…you gather all your courage and say, unfiltered, “I like you.”

Sae's lips quirk in a small smile. A minute passes. Or maybe a second. You don't know because it feels too long until he responds.

“I know.”

You raise your eyebrows. “Actually–”

Sae chuckles and gets closer and you actively notice you don't mind it. At all. “I like you, too. I have for a while. A long while.”

You look at him and you notice that he's really grown now. He wasn't the boy you once dated and…  almost loved. Though, the personality stayed the same still, but you believe it is a part of the Itoshi appeal.

His hair is longer, his features got sharper and you can only hope that you feeling he has gotten mellower is also right.

“I don't think I ever stopped.”

Your heart starts beating faster. It accelerates with every passing second and you feel like passing out. You also never thought you'd find yourself near him again, let alone like him and be in each other's proximity. Just like before. 

“Aren't you such a romantic?” Your voice comes out meek. But you know that it isn't any sign of weakness.

“Let's go talk to the teachers,” you lay out your hand to him, “I'm sure they missed seeing their favorite sports player.”

He scoffs but takes your hand nonetheless.

That in itself was an answer you both wanted. Neither of you was a fan of words and it manifested itself in this form of a relationship. In the end, words never conveyed as much as actions did.

They truly never did.

a/n: FUCKING FINALLY!!!! i cant say im totally happy with how i managed the series and how it flowed overall (severe burnout from the constant posting in the beginning (sprinkle some life things that contributed to the plot that i call my life) that i had to sit down and breathe). thank you to everyone who stuck around despite everything, im eternally grateful. if you have any questions, send an ask and ill answer!! until then <3!!!

tag list: @kiopanxp @funtuki @silly-ez @asteroskoniiii @keijiqahara @pikibee @tamimemo @kaitfae @biaonww @y-sabell-a @kaiserkisser @winterpein @bloombb @yyoichisgirl @rifran

[sequinsmile-x]

Glissade

(glis·​sade) Noun. A gliding step in ballet

She was grateful that her mother showed up for the kids, but she couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. That she didn’t feel jealous that Elizabeth could do for her grandchildren what she’d never been able to do for her. It made her ache. Made her feel like the little girl she’d once been, standing in a room a little too similar to this one, waiting for her mother to arrive. 

-x-

Hi friends,

This was literally inspired by a tiktok I saw of a little girl smiling when she saw her mum in the crowd at a recital. Of course, it couldn't just be straight up fluff...so the mommy issues got involved.

I feel like everyone should know that @cloudlessly-light massively encouraged this as she sat on my couch this weekend haha

As always, please let me know what you think!

-x-

Words: 3.1k

Warnings: None

Read over on Ao3, or below the cut

April 1976

She peeks through the curtain separating the stage from the audience. She presses her lips together as she desperately looks for a familiar face in the sea of parents sitting and chatting as they wait for the dance recital to start. The sick feeling deep in her stomach she’d been feeling all afternoon gets worse as she doesn’t see her mom - an empty seat where she should be standing out in the crowd. 

“Emily, sweetie,” Mrs Stockton says, her hand on Emily’s back as she crouches next to her. Emily turns to look at her, her eyebrows furrowing as her tummy ache worsens, “We need to get started.”

Emily swallows thickly, her eyes burning as her vision goes blurry, tears she knew her mom would be mad at her for gathering at her lashline, “But my Mommy isn’t here yet.” 

She said she’d come. Emily had asked her every day for the last week if she would be here and she’d said yes, she’d promised that she’d come. 

“Your Mommy called,” Mrs Stockton says, her smile kind as she tucks some of Emily’s hair behind her ear, a stray strand having escaped the tight bun she’d put it in for her when she arrived, “She got caught up with work. She said Mr Wright, your driver, will pick you up when we’re done.” 

It takes a second for her teacher's words to sink in, and her chest feels tight, the rolling in her stomach all morning rushing upwards and for a moment she thinks she’s going to be sick. She swallows it back down, not wanting to throw up in front of her classmates, their whispers to each other as they watch Mrs Stockton talk to her loud despite how she tries to ignore them. 

“But…she promised.” 

Mrs Stockton sighs sympathetically, “I know she did sweetie,” she says, “I’m sorry.” 

Emily nods and wipes a tear from her cheek as it falls, knowing what her mom would say if she was here. She’d tell her she shouldn’t cry, that Prentiss’s were strong - whatever that meant. She’d only ever seen her mom cry once, although she was sure she hadn’t seen her. It was just after Emily had seen her dad for the last time a few months ago. She’d had a nightmare and tried to find her mom and eventually sought her out in her office. She’d stopped when she was in the doorway, her fist still lifted to knock, because she always had to knock, when she heard crying. 

She’d walked back to her room, her favourite stuffed animal still hanging from her hand, and decided to look after herself. Something that she thinks she’ll have to start doing a lot more of. 

“Okay,” Emily says, forcing a smile, one she’d always been told looked exactly like her mother’s, “I’m ready.” 

___

“We’re late.” 

Aaron has to stop himself from sighing, well aware that his wife was on edge and that anything was liable to push her over it. Ever since they’d woken up that morning she’d been anxious, a tension in her shoulders visible from the second she’d climbed out of bed. It was something only their children could bring out in her, a constant fear that she was letting them down forever lingering under her skin. She would practically vibrate with it, doubt in her abilities as a mother never far away. He hated that she doubted herself, that she couldn’t see what he could. That she was the centre of their children’s worlds. That Jack, Violet and Benjamin all sought her out at any given opportunity, never tiring of the unrelenting love she has for them.

He briefly looks at her hands, at the way she twists her rings around her finger - a nervous habit that had long since replaced picking at her cuticles, and he feels his heart ache for her. He swallows the sigh, covering it by clearing his throat, and he reaches over the centre console to squeeze Emily’s thigh, smiling when she immediately places her hand over his, linking their fingers together as she tries to draw comfort from him. 

“We’re not late, sweetheart,” he assures her, raising their joint hands to kiss her knuckles before he lets go of her hand to place it back on the steering wheel, “We’ll be there before it starts.” 

She hums absentmindedly and looks over her shoulder to the back of the car, her anxiety slipping away for a moment as she watches Benjamin in his car seat. His tiny hands and one of his feet visible from where he’s facing the back of the car - the 10-month-old’s love of taking his shoes off at any given opportunity well known. She reaches back and touches his hand, smiling when he starts to babble and wraps his fist around one of her fingers. 

“You excited to watch your sister dance, sweet boy?” She asks, her smile getting wider when his babbling gets louder, “Me too,” she says before she turns back to face the front of the car, her hand back in her lap. She feels her stomach twist when she checks her watch again, the minutes slipping by far too quickly for her liking, “She has to know we’re there, Aaron. It’s her first dance recital.” 

Violet had been excited about it for weeks. She’d talked non-stop about the recital, practising at any given opportunity, her brows furrowed together as she tried to remember the routine her dance teacher had taught her. She’d reminded them that morning before they left for work and they’d promised they’d be there, that she’d be able to see them in the crowd, and she’d smiled so widely just the memory of it made Emily ache. 

“We’re almost there, Em,” he says, briefly looking at her before he’s focusing on the road again, “Just another couple of minutes.” 

She huffs out a breath and rests her head back against the headrest, closing her eyes for a second as she tries to centre herself, “I know you probably think I’m being ridiculous-”

“Never,” he replies sincerely, forcing a smile to pass across her face as she shakes her head at him, looking at him through the side of her eyes before she carries on.

“But my mom never came to this kind of thing. And…I just want to do better,” she smiles sadly at him, avoiding his eye contact by looking in the back of the car again, her eyes fixed on Benjamin as he works to take off his other shoe, “I never want them to know how it feels to not have us in the room with them, you know?” 

Not for the first time, and he knows not for the last, irritation aimed at his mother-in-law licks through him, his grip on the steering wheel tightening ever so slightly. He knew most, if not all, of Emily’s insecurity about being a mother, came from what her relationship with Elizabeth looked like. She’d told him once, shortly after they found out Violet was a girl, that she was worried she wouldn’t be any good at raising a daughter. She’d stared at her lap, tears burning in her eyes as she quietly admitted to him she was convinced that something was missing in her, that her own mother’s lack of a maternal nature was genetic. A cycle she was sure she’d never be able to escape. 

He wished he could have shown her then where she was now, how she was their 4-year-old’s favourite person in the entire world. How Violet would beam the second she’d see Emily, her smile wide as she’d run over to her and fling herself into her arms. 

“I know,” he replies reaching for her hand and squeezing it again, “We are doing better,” he assures her, “Did your mom ever confirm if she was coming today?” 

Emily laughs humourlessly and shakes her head, relief washing over her as they finally pull into the school’s parking lot, “No. I didn’t tell Vi that I invited her, that way she can’t be disappointed if she doesn’t show up,” she says, barely waiting for him to turn off the car’s engine before she’s out of it, rounding the car to get Benjamin. She smiles widely at him as she opens the door and unbuckles him, “There’s my sweet barefoot boy.” 

She presses several kisses on his cheek as she lifts him into her arms, the giggle he releases one of her favourite sounds in the world. She kisses him one more time before she hands him over to Aaron, her smile impossibly wider at the sight of them together.

“Mom!” 

She turns just in time to see Jack running towards her, his arms out-stretched as he hugs her, “Hi honey,” she replies, smiling at Jessica as she walks towards them, “Have you been here long?” 

“We just got here,” Jessica says, “You guys made good time.”

Aaron chokes on a laugh, the sound breaking free from his chest before he can stop it, and Emily turns to look at him, her eyes narrowed as she points at him.

“Not a word.” 

Aaron smiles and nods, exchanging an amused look with Jessica before he nods towards the school, “We should go in. Find some seats.” 

Emily hums and wraps her arm around Jack’s shoulders, squeezing him closer as they walk in tandem. He’s telling her about his day, enthusiastically filling her in about what he’d learned at school and the fun he and his friends had at recess, when she spots a familiar face in the school hall, leaving her frozen in place. 

“Mother?” 

Elizabeth smiles and stands up from her seat in the front row, waving them over to the empty seats next to her, “Emily, Aaron - I saved you all some seats.” 

Emily falters a little bit, rooted to the spot until she feels the warmth of Aaron’s chest against her back and Benjamin’s tiny fingers tangling in her hair. She clears her throat and walks over to her mother, casting a glance over her shoulder at her husband, grateful for the assurance she felt whenever he was near.

“Mother, hi,” she says, leaning in to stamp a kiss against her mother’s cheek as she hugs her, “I didn’t realise you were coming.” 

She scoffs as she briefly hugs Emily before she pulls Jack into a hug, “I wouldn’t miss this for the world,” she says, as if it’s obvious, as if she doesn’t have a track record of missing this exact kind of thing, “I got here early so we could sit in the front row.” 

Emily nods, her lips pressed tightly together as she clears her throat, pushing the hurt and repressed anger she’d been hiding for years down into her gut, “Well, I know Vi will appreciate it.” 

“Will everyone please take their seats, we are about to begin.” 

The teacher’s voice cuts across any other conversation, and after a rushed greeting between Elizabeth, Jessica and Aaron they all take their seats. Emily sits with Jack on one side of her and Aaron on the other, Benjamin pressed between the two of them, his fingers tangled in her shirt even though he’s still in Aaron’s arms. She can feel her mother’s gaze burning into her side. The sensation was achingly familiar and she does her best to ignore it. 

She was grateful that her mother showed up for the kids, but she couldn’t pretend it didn’t hurt. That she didn’t feel jealous that Elizabeth could do for her grandchildren what she’d never been able to do for her. It made her ache. Made her feel like the little girl she’d once been, standing in a room a little too similar to this one, waiting for her mother to arrive. 

Everyone applauds when the kids walk out on stage, all nervous and some of them slightly unsteady on their feet. Emily immediately spots Violet and she can see just how anxious her little girl is, her teeth sinking into her lower lip as she looks at the crowd clearly seeking her out. It’s obvious the moment Violet spots her. Her face lights up, her shoulders loosen as she immediately relaxes, her smile wide as she waves at Emily. 

Emily waves back, pride and love overwhelming her as she blows out a shaky breath, tears she doesn’t entirely understand making her vision blur. She jumps slightly when Aaron places his hand on her leg and she looks up at him, her smile soft as their eyes meet and she sees the same proud tears shining right back at her.

___

“Okay, sweet girl,” Emily says, tucking Violet’s bedding around her, “It’s time to go to sleep.”

Violet smiles sleepily at her, her usual attempts at fighting bedtime nowhere to be found, “Today was fun.”

Emily hums and runs her fingers through Violet’s hair, “It was nice, huh?” She says, “You did so good baby.” 

“Thanks, Mommy.” 

She stands up and kisses Violet’s forehead, “You’re welcome,” she kisses her forehead again, “You get some sleep, okay? You know where Daddy and I are if you need us.” 

She nods and wraps her arms around her favourite toy, “Love you, Mama.”

“Love you too, Vi,” she replies, taking a moment to watch her from the doorway before she switches out the light and steps out into the hallway. She jumps when she almost immediately walks into Elizabeth, her hand over her heart as she gasps, “Jesus, Mother. What are you doing up here?” 

“Jack asked me to put him to bed,” she replies, her arms crossed over her chest, “I don’t get a chance to do it often so I said I would. Where’s Aaron?” 

“He’s on Benny duty tonight,” Emily says as she starts to walk towards the stairs, “He doesn’t like to fall asleep alone so Aaron will be there for a while,” she smiles when her mother laughs politely, “Thank you for coming today - and for staying for dinner. I know it meant a lot to Vi.” 

“Of course I came,” Elizabeth nods as they head into the kitchen and Emily goes to the fridge to get out some wine, “She’s my granddaughter.” 

Emily scoffs, unable to stop herself, her nerves shot after a long day. She was so happy for Violet that she had so many people in her life, that they’d filled half a row and been sat right there as she danced slightly out of beat with the music, but she was also jealous. Jealous that she’d never had anyone - not even one person sitting there to cheer her along. It felt wrong and made her feel like the worst mother in the world, but she couldn’t help it. It felt like a rock low and heavy in her belly, forcing her to say something she’d usually keep to herself.

“Well, I’m your daughter,” she says, shaking her head as she pours wine into two glasses, “And it never stopped you from missing my recitals.” 

Elizabeth gasps, a brief moment where her usual mask of never being affected by anything slips, “Emily.” 

She sighs, her eyes closed as she presses her palms against the kitchen counter, the cool marble of it resetting her brain, somehow making her feel worse. Her mother had never been what she’d needed, what she’d wanted, but she knew she loved her. That sometimes made it worse, made the indifference she occasionally felt from the person who should love her the most hurt even more, but she knew Elizabeth had done her best. Even though it had never been enough.

“Mom, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t-”

“No, Emily. I’m sorry,” Elizabeth says, her smile tight as she cuts over her. Emily frowns, her eyebrows knitting together as she stumbles over her words for a second, the apology from Elizabeth the last thing she’d expected. 

“Wh…what?” 

“I saw the look on Violet’s face when she spotted you in the crowd,” Elizabeth says, her arms crossed over her chest, “She lit up,” her smile turns sad, “We’ve never had that and I know thats my fault. I should have…” she clears her throat, “If I could go back I’d make some different choices. It’s why I’m doing my best to make different ones now.” 

Emily stares at her, her mouth hanging open ever so slightly as she tries to figure out how to respond. It didn’t fix or change anything. It didn’t undo the years of hurt and resentment, how they had led her to make so many choices she couldn’t unmake, but it was something. An acknowledgement she hadn’t realised she’d needed, and one she certainly never thought she’d get. 

“Thank you,” she says, not sure what else she could say, “That’s…thank you.” 

The moment ends as quickly as it began when Aaron walks into the room, “He finally fell asleep.” 

“Good,” Emily says, turning to look at him, “I’m glad.” 

“I’m going to go sit down,” Elizabeth says, smiling softly at Emily as she picks up her glass of wine, and if she didn’t know any better, if it wasn’t entirely out of character for her mother, Emily would be sure she was purposefully giving her a moment with her husband, “I’ll see you in a minute.”

Emily nods and watches her go, her throat tight as she stands frozen in place. She only moves when Aaron places a hand on her shoulder, his eyebrows pulled together in concern when she looks up at him.

“You okay, sweetheart?” 

She blows out a breath and shrugs, “I don’t know.” 

He wraps his arms around her and tugs her into a hug. She presses herself against him, her face against his neck as she settles into him, into the comfort he always provided. 

“Want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head, “Not yet.” 

“Okay,” he replies, kissing the top of her head and rubbing a comforting hand up and down her back. He changes the subject, well aware that whatever he’d walked in on was something she’d need to process herself before she spoke to him about it, “Vi did so good today.” 

She smiles so widely he can feel it against his neck and she nods, “Yeah,” she replies, leaning back to look up at him, “She’s amazing.” 

He stamps a kiss against her lips and cups the back of her head, holding her in place so he can rest his forehead against hers, “Just like her mom.” 

-x-

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[vlance]

♪Heart to Heart♪

(Prologue)

-summary- Y/N is the 5th member of Aespa and is going to be collaborating with Le Sserafim’s Yunjin and Chaewon for a special stage. She is excited to be able to perform with two people she's been looking forward to meeting but also has the worst case of gay panic ever so when she's around two pretty women she can't help but develop a little crush on both of them.

-warnings- swearing, kms and kys jokes, inappropriate jokes, mentions of sex

Hearing the rushed footsteps of someone approaching mine and Ningning’s room wasn’t the first thing I was expecting when I woke up on my day off today. The door to the room burst open and there is our leader herself standing there. “Karina” I lifted my head up and look at the said girl standing in the doorway. “Have you read the group chat” she looks at me with the biggest grin on her face.

“With the way you are smiling at me I don’t know if I wanna look” I gave her a look of skepticism. “It’s not that bad you’re gonna like it I think” she just keeps giving me the biggest grin I have ever seen in my life. “Okay I’ll look but stop giving me that face you look like that one meme of Dreamcatcher Sua sunbaenim as pennywise” her smiles drops and she gives me an offended look as I can hear Giselle laughing from the other room.

She rolled her eyes and left the room as I picked up my phone from the nightstand. I opened it to see thirty unread messages and a missed call from our manager. I called my manager back because I was too lazy and tired to read it the messages in the chat.

“Hello Y/N”

“Yeah hi what is Jimin unnie telling me I should call you back on” I sat up and rubbed my eyes.

“Oh yeah right…we were just talking about a special stage you’re gonna be having at music bank”

“Not again I literally embarrassed myself so fucking hard last time” I groan and sit on the edge of my bed.

“You looked so cute though with your puppy eyes staring at Taeyeon” She gave a small laugh.

“Can you blame me…I had the biggest case of gay face ever I forgot to sing my line and mumbled pretty into my mic for the whole studio to hear” She proceeds to laugh and me while I sit there listening to her.

“Who is it with anyway”

“Le Sserafim’s Chaewon and Yunjin” I hear the names of the two girls I’ll be doing a special stage with and pause.

“Y/N…..Y/N” She calls out my name but I’m too much in shock to even respond. I looked over to the signed album I practically got on my knees and begged for when Jimin unnie and Ningning went on Euncahe’s Star Diary. I remembered watching produce 48 and being the biggest fan of Chaewon and Yunjin.

I got so sad when Yunjin was eliminated. I have a bunch of old IZ*ONE albums and photocards that Giselle always jokes that the only reason I became a kpop idol was to one day meet them.

“Y/N” she practically yells in my ear.

“H-huh…yeah?” I blink out of the daze I was in.

“God you’re so gay…as I was saying you’re gonna be going to hybe next week to meet and figure out what songs to preform and other things like that okay”

“Yup…hear you loud and clear” I’m practically already sweating from nerves.

“Okay” She hangs up the phone and I slowly bring the phone down to my lap. I sat there for a second then grabbed my pillow and proceeded to scream into it. I stopped screaming after a bit and had the biggest shit eating grin of my and face started jumping around.

“Ha Minjeong owes me 10 bucks” Giselle said while scrolling on her phone. “Why” Ningning looks up from her phone to look at Giselle and Jimin on the opposite couch. “Because I bet that Y/N would scream into her pillow and start jumping around and Minjeong said that Y/N would start crying” I looked over at Ningning and she start laughing cause she can hear Y/N yelling.

“It’s not my fault I thought she would cry because remember that one time she started crying when she met Irene Sunbae and thought she was so pretty and called her mommy straight to her face without thinking” Minjeong stated and Ningning started dying on the floor from laughter and I could hear Jimin unnie next to me laughing.

“Y/N is such a homosexual I swear” I laughed to myself and went back on my phone.

-Note- well the first thing that will officially post I’m excited and nervous cause this fic seems like it’s gonna be boring by just the prologue idk if I’m satisfied but yeah let’s see how this goes.

[jaelaxies]

𝐩𝐫𝐟𝐜𝐭

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

fluff; wc: 726.

Jay x fem reader!; Band au!; Guitarist Jay au!; Bassist reader!; College au!; tw: some mild cursing.

Song recommendation: Gorgeous —Taylor Swift (reputation)

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Ever since I knew him, he always had me on edge. I could never decipher that flirty smile and those damned dimples; 99% of the time, I was bewitched by him and his demeanor, just like everyone else. Jay just had this aura about him, that made him fit in, made everyone fall under this imaginary spellbound that was so strong that even I, a skeptic of it, fell for. It put me in quite the dilemma dare I say. Being in a band with him just made everything feel like I was starring in some dramatic, coming of age, romantic kind of cliché movie.

Of course, Jay was charming by his looks: he had beautiful golden kissed tan skin, sharp jawline and matching features but what attracted people the most was his smile. Even I was trapped in the same cage. But even so...

There were things about Jay that people seemed to take for granted; like his kindness, the dimples when he laughed hard about some shitty joke that anyone would make or the way his soul just seemed to belong on stage. He was born a performer, when he was on stage or practicing: he was as passionate as if it was a real deal. I admired him from afar, wondering how people couldn’t take all of those things as perfection.

And in one afternoon rehearsal, I think I got my answer.

—Do you know that your brain automatically reads things even if they are spelled incorrectly? — Said Heeseung as he was adjusting the mic, just testing the sound but really the question was directed at whoever paid him attention.

—Just like how Jay is “prfct”

Sunoo replied while writing it on the board and nudging said man while doing so. I finally looked up at started listening more attentively to what they were chatting about; almost immediately our eyes met each other and for one reason I cannot decipher right now, I just locked my gaze with his, again, wondering what his next move could be. I always wanted to test him and I didn’t know why.

—No one is perfect. — I said, while tilting my head a little; trying my best to not sound rude while still looking at him. For the first time, I could sense curiosity slippering through his orbs like a ray of lightning— If we all settled out for perfection, we would all settle for an incredibly stupid and unreachable goal.

For a split second, the room fell silent and then I saw the most unexpected reaction from the guys. Sunoo and Heeseung were smiling and nodding and… so was Jay, but the way he had a full grin on his face and was scratching his neck, who was slightly red in tone, was completely out of character for him.

—What? — I said, almost wanting to apologize if I ruined the mood or spoke harshly without really thinking about his feelings.

—It’s because I knew you would say that. It's the way you are...— Jay said, getting out of the grip that Sunoo had on him and walked to where I was, sitting right next to me; far away enough from me to count his lashes and notice a different spark in the way his eyes shone. — Perfect isn’t your thing, sweetheart.

He tilted his head, and I could see a slight blush forming on the tip of his ears but he was still smiling like he had just found a diamond in a pile of rocks. Again, I was holding my breath and my palms became sweaty; surely my face was flushed pink too. — That’s one of the reasons I like you.

I sat there speechless; for the first time, I got the unfamiliar sensation of roaming butterflies in my whole ribcage and dumbfounded, I looked down. Having my question finally answered by none other than myself.

Perfect wasn’t my thing because Jay was.

I didn’t set a standard for him like I had with everyone because at the end of the day I would always like this Jay; no matter how much questions I tried to ask myself I would always get the same answer: Perfect or not, it was Just Jay who I liked.

And smiling like an idiot there I sat, realizing that he had just reciprocated a feeling I didn’t even knew I had.

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･ﾟ✧*:･ﾟ✧✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:* 　　 *:･

OH BOY THE CONFIDENCE THE AURA IN THIS ERA BY JAY IS NO JOKE

also sorry if it felt too short i wanted to dust my keyboard first, jk i will try to make even better stories that's why im diving into different formats.

I had this idea in the back of my head for quite a bit after seeing the styling and the stages for sweet venom (certified platinum bop) but then moving out of town hit me like a truck and I was like oh well, but now:

we are officially back everyone!!!

 I would like to thank everyone who has been supporting my works and kindly liking them or just reblogging them, it makes me really happy and motivated; also, don’t be shy, if you wanna be moots just send an ask 🤍

My taglist is also open; you can request via ask to be added to the taglist of my masterlist or just any post I make!

As always, feedback is really appreciated and I’ll love if you could reblog or comment if you really liked this one!

With love, *°࿐Stella🤍

[yourtouchismidas]

ahh i need to read that now that you've mentioned it and put the idea in my head 😭

(i assume this ask is about me saying it would be cute if gigi appeared with denise on loose women)

okay so let's say it doesn't go out on TV but during one of the live tapings of the show, you and matty bring gigi to the set of loose women to watch denise and you''re in the audience with baby gigi who is about three years old. they are talking about being mum's and parenting etc and gigi, who has been watching quietly or playing on your iphone quietly, catches denise's eye when someone else is talking and she smiles at her. gigi immediately cries out like "nana!" but no one, except the people immediately around you guys, hear. you put your hand over gigi's mouth and whisper in her ear to be quiet and matty is trying to hold in laughter next to you. denise and the other's are chatting and aren't aware of what is going on. when you take your hand off gigi's mouth she says "nana!" again but quieter, to you, and points at her. and you're like "yeah gigi it's nana. she is working. you know how daddy works on the stage? this is her work." and she goes back to watching for a little bit.

after a while she starts bugging you to get down off your lap and stand up and you tell her to stay put and she starts whining so you let her stand up and hold on to your knees, rolling your eyes at matty to say "this was a bad idea" but his mum had asked them too and you couldn't say no, and you were all going to go out afterwards, the only time really to fit in family time before matty and his mum's work both took over again. so you'd agreed.

gigi seems to settle again, standing next to you and watching, so you let yourself go back to listening, getting involved in the show and then denise is laughing hard about something and gigi says "nana!" again but you can barely hear it over the audience laughing, but you feel her little grasp leave your knees and you're right by the aisle so she toddles out into it and starts walking down the stairs towards the stage and you're up and after her but it is too late, everyone has already noticed and denise has clocked her and one of the other women says "oh hey we've got a little visitor look," and the cameras pan to little gigi walking towards the stage with her arms held out to denise and denise says "oh it's my baby! it's my darling granddaughter." and goes to the edge of the stage to meet her and grab her into her arms, while gigi looks out at the audience dazed, and then rests her head on denise's shoulder and the whole audience erupts into awww noises, and laughter, and denise says "you want to sit with nana for a bit?" and gigi nods and so denise goes back to the bench and sits gigi on her lap while she looks at the other women and plays with the paper in front of them on the desks while denise says "yeah this is my eldest Matt's little one! miss gigi. say hi gigi!" and gigi waves at the audience and they all erupt again while you have your head in your hands nervous but laughing at the side of the stage. then they start talking about the wonders of being a grandparent and denise leans her head into gigi's curls and talks about how much of a blessing she is and how much she loves her and gigi yawns big which makes everyone laugh. then they need to move on with the show and so denise hands you gigi back and she lies in your arms, sleepy.

it never makes it to the live show because matty won't sign off on it, but a 1975 fan who was there posts about it on twitter and recounts the story, talking about how cute matty's little girl is.

[britt-kageryuu]

It's a bit of a unique stream this time. Mikey has only a video player open on the screen. On the Preview for what was about to play was a graphic of Leo halfway transformed into a human. A title card on the upper part of the screen reads 'The Little Turtle, a Little Mermaid parody, kinda.' There is also a countdown timer for when the video would start.

Chat is going nuts some shouting about getting popcorn, snacks, drinks, and emotional support plushies, or pets. All on the edge of their seats for what the story might reveal about the Turtles.

The countdown ends, the title card disappears and the video starts. With Mikey narrating the story. The visuals are like a drawn storybook with a group shot of the four turtles with Splinter. With their stage names pointing to who's who.

"Once upon a time, there was a small family who were once part of a prestigious clan, but because of a curse, that left them in their current forms of four different species of turtles and a rat, they fled to find a relatively safe place for them to live."

The 'page' turns during the narration to a drawing of them in a clearing with a partially hidden repaired home with a large pond in the yard, and a smaller building with a 'Dee's Workshop Keepout!' Sign on the side. The page turns again.

A drawing of the four turtles sitting on the branches of a tall tree looking out over the village is shown, with another of Splinter warning them to be careful.

"They lived in hiding not too far from a large village that was always a point of curiosity for the young turtles, but their father warned them to be careful when getting close, for they could never be to sure how the humans would react to them."

The page turns to a drawing of Leo dressed in loose dark blue pants, and a dark blue hooded cloak peeking from behind a tree very close to the village.

"Though Blue the Slider kept sneaking closer to watch people, but mainly he would meet with a human friend, April, they made who would being them books, food they couldn't grow, and some toys, in exchange for medicine made from herbs only found deep in the forest where the human dared not go."

A drawing of Leo and April (dressed like a peasant) exchanging bags of miscellaneous items sticking out, while chatting about stuff. While standing in a dark alley between some buildings.

"Though one day on the way to the Village Blue spotted a group walking through the woods. A large man with gray hair wearing Armour, two woman one with red hair, the other with black, both wearing traveling clothes. But he focused on a young man with long white hair dressed in blue with a symbol on his back, and Dinosaur like reptile on his shoulders."

A drawing of humanized Gin, Chizu, Kitsune, and Usagi with Spot with Leo seen in the background in a tree watching is shown.

"Blue follows this group whenever he sees them in the woods, while staying far enough away so as not to be seen. Though one day the white haired young man was on his own, and was ambushed by apparent enemies, who knocked the man out. But before they could move, Blue attacked them, and sent them running."

A set of drawings matching the above narration were shown, along with one of Blue looking over Usagi with a slight blush on his face.

"After checking the young man over, Blue carries him back towards the village. During the walk the young man would kinda wake up, but can't clearly see who's helping him, and with no energy to talk, tried to focus on who this stranger was. But once they reached close to the village, Blue carefully places the man down, and quickly dissapeared from view."

Drawings of Leo carrying a human Usagi who is very confused, followed by Usagi on the ground outside the village with a shadow of Blue in the corner. Then a drawing of a confused Usagi mentioning the color blue.

"The man's friends run forward, and Blue learns his name is Usagi. Which confused Blue since that means Rabbit, but he sets that thought aside to head home, and talk to his brothers. Meanwhile Usagi still in a daze tries to inform his friends about his savior, but couldn't describe them past the color Blue of their clothes."

"When Blue gets home to tell his family what happened, they were a mix of excited, but cautious, reminding Blue he needs to be careful. He just laments on wanting to be human to be able to even just talk to this Usagi, only to be reminded that only much more powerful magic than their curse can even temporarily reverse it, but it's Stupidly rare, and the one being they do know who could help, their father forbid them from ever dealing with her."

Drawings of Leo talking about Usagi, and wanting to be human, followed with an angry Splinter warning against a Big Spider. Then a scheming Leo is shown.

"But Blue was now more determined to become human even for a little while, so he disobeyed his family, and tracked down this Mysterious Big Spider. He found her in a much deeper area of the woods than he's ever traveled alone. But he found her."

A drawing of a cave surrounded by huge webs is shown with Leo attempting to sneak in. Followed by a picture of Big Mama in spidery witch attire.

"The Big Spider, or Big Mama as she insists on being called, agreed to lend Blue a magic Broach that would turn him human, but make him unable to talk. And warned the magic would wear off in three days time. Blue asked what the catch was, highly suspicious that she would just give him this for nothing."

A drawing of a suspicious Leo looking between the Broach, and Big Mama is shown, before it shows Big Mama holding a contract.

"'Well you just need to sign this harmless contract, and know if you don't get a kiss from this crush of yours, you will be my servant for eternity.' Blue looked over the contract, and signed on the line. Big Mama again warned about the time limit, before Blue snatches the broach, and runs toward the village."

"His Brothers catch up to him right as he puts on the broach, and at least let Blue know they will help however they can, but hopes he knows what he's doing, while following behind towards the Village."

A drawing of Blue turning into a human with tan skin, long black hair with the lower half dyed blond pulled back with his bandana, splashes of different skin tones where his markings were. Thankfully he was still wearing his pants, and foot wraps.

"Once there Blue wandered for a bit trying to find Usagi, while his brothers hid in the shadows, and tracked down April for some help. They eventually find him and his friends at the healers house. Usagi at first is confused and suspicious, then takes note of the blues of Blues clothes, and asked if Blue was the one to save him. Blue nodded his head to confirm this."

A drawing of human Leo kneeling near Usagi, and his friends while giving Spot some skritches. Then them questioning Leo, only to have him motion that he's mute.

"After some questions, and having Usagi cleared to leave, the group decided to treat Blue for saving their friend. Usagi and Blue seem to grow close pretty quickly once they got Blue a something to write on. The Dorks. Sorry. Continuing!"

The next drawing is Raph, Mikey, and Donnie talking to April. And possible plans.

"Once the rest of the brothers track down April, they relay what they could of Blues contract, and needing a kiss from this Usagi, or be trapped serving the Spider. They plan out different ways to make this work, but aren't very confident it will work without Blues input."

The drawings switch to Usagis friend talking about Leo, and making some plans of their own.

"Usagis friends had a Similar set of ideas, though it might be a bit soon, they haven't seen their friend make a connection with someone this quickly, and over puns. The plans are put into action without the other group knowing, so things just keep going wrong. But Usagi and Blue still have fun, though not getting close to kissing."

A drawing of Human Leo and Usagi sitting next to eachother blushing, with their friend/family groups in the background looking at them in frustration.

"In the middle of day 2, Big Mama made an appearance to poke at Blue, and inform him there was a change in plans, and he had by the end of the day to finish his task, or become her servant. Usagi and his friends come across this, and attack Big Mama because she's a known witch and infamous for never sticking to her contracts."

A drawing of Big Mama tainting Leo, then getting attacked only to run, and Usagis group questioning Leo.

"Usagi questions Blue on why Big Mama was talking to him. Blue writes an abridged version of his family story, their cursed to not look human, he wanted to walk among humans, and befriend Usagi, at least at first, but Big Mama is the only one who can cover the curse even temporarily. Usagi asked what he needed to do to finish his part of the deal. Only for Blue to blush deeply, and Dee walks out of the woods with April to reveal said condition for the deal."

Drawings of the scene narrated above, but with a picture of both Usagi and Leo both blushing badly.

"Usagi agrees to give Blue a kiss to get him out of the deal, in exchange Blue would show how he really looked once the magic were off. Only for Big Mama and some of her minions to attack because she feels they aren't following the contract properly. Yes the hypocrisy is real."

The next minute is just cycling through drawings of this battle, only to be interrupted by Splinter showing up.

"The fighting is brought to a halt when Splinter appears, and yells at Big Mama to leave his boys, and their friends alone, and he would never get back together with her. Which confused many of those witnessing this. Big Mama begs Splinter to give her another chance, but he refuses, and sends her flying leaving Blues contract behind, her minions run away so as to not share the same fate."

Drawing of the scene narrated above, but includes Splitner smacking his Boys for messing with Big Mama. Then Usagi kissing Leo on the cheek.

"Usgai then gives Blue a kiss on the check, because it still counted to completing the contract. Though once the end of the day came, and the magic were off, including the not being able to talk. Usagi and his friends reveal their own secret. And transform themselves."

As drawing of Usagi, Gen, Chizu, and Kitsune transforming into their normal forms of a Rabbit, Rhino, Cat and Fox.

"The two groups work together to get the villagers to not care about their true forms, and after a long time Usagi and Blue eventually get married. The End."

And set of final drawings that end with Usagi and Leo's wedding, and The End.

The video screen is minimized, and Mikeys model in his paint splattered orange hoodie pops up, and Mask with some charms on the tails.

"Well? What did you think? I kinda lost the plot, and ended up rushing the ending, but what can you do when your attention doesn't want to stay focused on the story for very long." Mikey reads over some of the comments in chat then brings up an advertisement for prints of the various drawings that are now up in their merch store.

"Hope you all have a nice day Balemates, I'm ending the stream here, so see you next time. BYE!!!!"

End Stream.

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Masterpost

I had the idea for rewriting The Little Mermaid, but with the TMNT. I couldn't get very far, so I decided to make a parody that Mikey draws out then narrates over as a random side project. Yes the ending was rushed, because I took a break, and couldn't remember how I wanted the story to go, so rushed it is.